{the loyal kitten}

-In some situations of supreme importance nothing approaches so near an omniscient intelligence as thesimple instinct of a faithful animal-

Living with Selina was a grace from god. It was home, and it felt like home, because it was warm and familiar and he was happy. Tim still wasn't sure how she'd managed to get his papers, but he was adopted by her a few months after he had arrived. Initially he had thought she'd just send him back to a foster home. When he had told her that, she'd been offended.

"After what they did to you?" Selina's bold green eyes were cloudy with rage. "No. Never again. From now on, you'll stay with me."

Tim had still been healing at that point, so he had stared up at her with big, bruised eyes. "Miss S… Are… are you sure…?"

"Of course," she said, studying his features. She smiled, and ruffled his hair. "Unless there's something I should know about. You're not actually Batman, are you, kitten? Because I don't think I could live with Batman."

He gave a soft giggle, and he shook his head, though he had to wonder about the woman's relationship with the Bat. I guess I'll find out, he thought. He did, and he remained unsurprised. He didn't really approve of Selina's ways of distracting Batman, but he found it all very amusing. As he grew up, so did his outlook. By the time he demanded to help Selina with her… job, he decided to start trying to emulate her. Well, not her… more charming tactics. Tim just wanted to learn how to be that flexible, to run and fight with the litheness of a cat.

She taught him without complaint. It was a little hard to grasp, but Tim had set his mind to it. And once he set his mind to something, there was no turning back. He would succeed. That was who he was. He had an undeniable lust for knowledge, and as time went on it only got worse. He had to know everything, and he had to know how to do everything. It was almost troublesome, but Selina thought it was cute.

Tim went to school, and he began to make friends. He was growing more comfortable in his own skin, which made him happy. He was less awkward now, and there was a genuine sense of contentment where he was. His nightly activities never dampened this— in fact, he felt livelier being where he was now. He felt safe, like nothing could touch him, and that was amazing.

His budding friendship with Blue Jay had been circumstantial. If Selina and Batman didn't have that weird… thing that they had, Tim was sure they'd never had been friends at all. But the boy was pretty cool, and he listened. He acted like any other kid, albeit a little more violent than Tim had expected. He had a short temper, and sometimes that caused him problems.

The kiss thing had been startling. The story Jason had told was even more so. The disturbing truth about the boy's past made too much sense, and too little sense at all. Tim had no idea how to deal with any of it. He was thirteen, and he was utterly confused about everything that was happening, and so he'd done the only thing he could do. He'd blurted it all to Selina. Immediately he'd felt terrible, and he pleaded with her not to tell anyone, because he'd promised not to tell, and he wanted to be a good friend, and Jason didn't deserve it.

"Kitten…" Selina took a deep breath, and she reached for him, her fingers running through his hair. He leaned into her touch, scooting closer as she smoothed his hair back. "There are some things that… need to be brought into the light. Not to everyone, just… the people that need to know. What happened was horrible, but I don't think—"

"You can't tell Batman," Tim said, staring up at her. "I promised him I wouldn't tell, so you have to promise me you won't either!"

Selina looked down at him, her lips parting into a gape. And then she pulled him very close, pressing her chin to his hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered. He broke away from her, staring up at her incredulously.

"I told you no," Tim said, his voice cracking pitifully. She watched him, and he just couldn't fathom why she didn't understand. "You're not telling him. I only told you because I couldn't keep it bottled up. Selina, please, you can't—"

"I have to," she sighed, running her fingers through her cropped black hair. "You… don't understand right now, but someday you will. If you ever have children, you'll get it."

"Selina, that's not an excuse!" He jumped to his feet, anger and betrayal prickling him like pins and needles. "You didn't see what he was like! This will totally mess him up, we can't do that to him. Batman… I don't trust him, Miss S, not with this."

Selina features were soft, and her eyes were like moss, dull green and sad looking. She reached up and took his hands, pulling him very close. "Then trust me," she urged him, bopping his chin up with the joint of her finger. She smiled warmly, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"I just… I want him to be okay," Tim whispered. He flushed, and looked away. "I mean, he was so messed up, Selina, so messed up. I didn't know… I had no idea what to do. It was horrible."

"I can imagine," she said, sighing a bit. "Now, the next time someone kisses you without you wanting them to—"

"Miss S," he whined, wincing as she tugged him back onto the couch, hugging him tight to her chest. His voice was muffled by her shoulder. "I'm not a baby, I can totally handle that stuff."

"Which is why you let the poor boy kiss you?" She ruffled his hair, and gave a short tsk. "I thought you said you didn't want him to."

"I don't want to talk about this!" he squeaked, pulling away from her only to bury his face in his hands. His face was burning from his embarrassment. Selina was giggling softly, but she gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"It's okay, kitten," she said. "Sexuality is something you have lots of time to explore. Just not now."

"What's wrong with now?" he asked confusedly, lowering his hands a little bit to expose his eyes.

"Too young," she yawned, stretching her limbs out. "No sex until they show you that video in school."

"What… video?" Tim blinked slowly. "Selina, I don't even think my school has sex ed."

"Then no sex for you," Selina said cheerily, clapping her hand against his head as she stood up.

"Yeah, okay, whatever," Tim grumbled, folding his arms across his chest and flushing. "I'm going to bed."

"You do that."

"Goodnight," he said, waving back to her.

"Have sweet, innocent dreams please," she cooed teasingly. Tim glared back at her, and he clamped his hands over his ears.

"I'm not listening to you!"

Between school and thieving, there wasn't much room for a social life. Tim managed to go out a bit on the weekends, but never for long. Selina often told him that it was okay to have a normal life, and he'd retorted that she couldn't talk. They avoided the topic for exactly that reason. Eventually Tim and Jason met up again, and it was incredibly awkward and confusing. Tim tried to make it be normal, but his thoughts trailed back to the kiss, and the feeling of Jason's tongue sliding against the roof of his mouth.

"I'm really, really sorry," Jason said, resting his elbows on his knees and bowing his head. "I wasn't thinking when I did that stuff. When I said that stuff…"

"I know," Tim said. "It's okay."

"Shut up," Jason groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You're not supposed to be nice about this. You're supposed to kick me, push me off a bridge, I don't care. Just don't act calm."

"I'm not that angry about a little kiss," Tim said, frowning. "Besides, you didn't know what you were doing. I can't be mad at you for that."

"That kiss wasn't exactly… little," Jason said, dropping his hands into his lap. "But hey, whatever, call it what you want."

"I'd probably call it sexual assault," Tim admitted. Jason blanched, and stared straight ahead, visibly flinching at his choice of words. That made Tim feel awful. "But it wasn't, because you weren't in your right state of mind. You'd never have done it if you knew what you were doing."

He nodded vacantly. "I'm surprised you're even talking to me," he said quietly. "If you had done it to me, I'd never want to see your face again."

"We're two very different people, Jay," Tim said.

Jason turned to look at Tim, and he gave him a meager smile. The boy was obviously exhausted, physically and emotionally, but still he smiled. "You've got that right, you little shit," he said, giving Tim a sharp shove. Tim could only laugh, and pray that their friendship was on the track to being mended.

It never got the chance. The incident happened not too long after, and when Selina told him, she'd gotten her news from the Gotham rumor mills, Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn. Not ultra reliable sources.

"Kitten," Selina said, biting her lip as he looked up from his homework. "Tim. Can you come here for a sec?"

Whenever she actually called him by his name, he knew there was trouble. He set down his pencil, moving slowly closer to her. "Miss S?" he asked confusedly. She reached over to him, her slender arms catching him around the shoulders, and she pulled him close. "What's… what's going on? Something's happened, I can tell."

"Tim…" Selina sighed, and she pulled away from him, her fingers winding around his own. "Blue Jay's dead."

The trickle of fear was nothing compared to the confusion that grabbed hold of him. He stared up at her, his eyes taking in the sincere sadness there, and he shook his head. "No," he said. "You're wrong."

She looked away, and he took a step back. "Where did you hear this?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest. "People say Batman's dead all the time. Doesn't make it true. Did they get a body?"

"No," she said. She closed her eyes, hugging her arms. "But Harley gets her info right from the Joker."

"They're both not people I would call trustworthy," Tim said, his eyes narrowing. "I don't believe it."

"Tim, it's all over Gotham," she said. "I wanted to… to talk to you before I called Bruce."

"So I could tell you you're wrong?" Tim folded his arms across his chest, giving her a stubborn scowl. Suddenly she was scowling right back, pointing at his face.

"Listen to me, there was an explosion. The Joker beat the poor boy senseless, and when he was done…" Selina reached out, squeezing Tim's shoulders to ease the tension. Fear was crawling through his stomach like worms. "Blue Jay is dead. But… that doesn't mean Jason Todd is."

"Selina…" Tim said, blinking up at her. She gave him a small smile, and reached for the phone. "What did the Joker… do exactly?" Tim wasn't surprised that Jason had gotten mixed up with the Joker. It happened. But never on this scale.

"Harley wasn't too specific, but…" She pressed her lips together as he motioned her to go on. "There was an explosion."

"And now everyone thinks he's dead," Tim said. He took a deep breath. "Doesn't mean he actually is. Call."

She did. It was Alfred who answered, and that left Tim feeling uneasy. "Gimme," Tim said, standing on his tip toes to reach the phone. Instead of giving the phone to him, she merely pressed the receiver between their cheeks, leaning close so she could hear Alfred speak as well.

"— understand your concern, Miss Kyle, but I simply cannot disclose any information," sighed the old butler. Tim shifted anxiously, exchanging a look with Selina. "It's a very delicate situation at the moment, you must understand."

"All I want to know is if he's alive," Selina said. Tim found himself nodded, his mind abuzz with horror and confusion.

"Master Jason is…" The man seemed to struggle with the words, and Tim grabbed Selina's hand. He didn't know if he wanted to hear it, and truth be told he was ready to run. "Alive, yes."

Tim exhaled, leaning his forehead against Selina's shoulder. She, however, didn't look so reassured. "I see," she said quietly. "I won't bother you anymore, Alfred, but… thank you."

"Of course, Miss Kyle."

Selina hung up before he even had a chance to finish speaking. She tossed the phone away, scowling ahead of her. Tim didn't understand why she was so angry. Jason was alive, so what was her problem? "What?" Tim asked her, his eyes widening. "He's not dead! This is a good thing!"

"Hun…" She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Just because he's not dead… Listen, just be prepared for the worst. It's best that way."

"Why are you so pessimistic?" Tim asked, his eyes going wide. "You can't be happy with good news!"

"This isn't good news, kitten," Selina said softly. "It's just news."

She had been right, as awful as it had been to admit it. Jason had not been okay. At all. By the time Alfred called them to tell them that Jason was no longer in critical condition, Blue Jay had been confirmed as dead. There was no going back to it, and Tim was left to puzzle out how the world could be so cruel. Life went on, and Tim was stumped on how to cope with that. It was an odd empty feeling, knowing his friend was locked in a slumber and may never awake.

Tim was allowed to visit Jason, finally, a month after Blue Jay had been pronounced dead. The hospital smelled like antiseptic and a plague, and it looked like a horror movie in the making. Too bright, too empty, and too many people who looked half dead. Even the staff appeared to be half through the veil, with cloudy eyes and dead voices.

Jason looked pretty much dead. The heart monitor at his side, and its unremitting beeping, were the only signs of life coming from the boy's limp body. He laid in the hospital bed, tubes feeding into his nose, mouth, arms, and chest. His face was half visible beneath the range of half-healed burns, myriad of cuts, and sallow bruises. His hair had been shaved, and there was a large bandage wrapped around his head, and extra padding around the incision they had made above his left ear. His arms were in casts, but they weren't plaster, because the burns had to be treated every few hours. He looked like a mummy, and it was horrifying.

His left leg was supported, bandaged, and set in a cast. His right leg was not there. It was cut off just above the knee, and the stump left behind was heavily bandaged. They had amputated it quickly, and left them all guessing on whether or not they'd take any more limbs. They were still debating on his right arm, which had been ravaged by flame. But Bruce Wayne refused to have anything else amputated.

Tim gave weekly visits, because he didn't want to run into anyone else Jason might know. Turned out he didn't have many visitors. Bruce didn't come by as often as Tim had thought, and so Alfred came daily in his place. Sometimes they ran into each other, but most of the time Tim was alone. One day, however, he walked into Jason's room and found a girl sitting at his bedside.

He immediately froze in the doorway, his eyes widening as the girl looked up at him. She was slender and pretty, in her early twenties if he had to guess. Her red hair was long and curly, bouncing around her shoulders and her cheeks as she cocked her head. She was sitting in a wheelchair, a book sitting open in her lap. Tim's mouth fell open, and he flushed.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping back. "I didn't realize there was someone else here."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why are you apologizing?" she asked, giving a little laugh. "He can have more than one visitor. Are you a friend from school?"

"Um," Tim said, glancing at the comatose boy. "No. My… mom introduced us."

"Your mom, huh?" The girl's eyes twinkled, and she jerked her chin at him. "Come in, I don't bite."

Tim shuffled in awkwardly, standing at the foot of Jason's bed as the girl looked him over once. "What are you reading?" Tim asked, hoping to ease the tension.

"Oh," she said, glancing down at the book. "God, uh, The Man Who Laughs." She held up the cover, and Tim winced. She smiled a little, and shrugged. "Jason was on a Victor Hugo kick."

"And you chose that?" Tim was actually angry with her. Of all the books in the world, that was the book she chose? "That's cruel."

"Jason was in the middle of reading it," the girl said, unfazed by his accusation. "He told me that it was a really interesting look on what makes a person a monster, and what makes them human."

"He never mentioned it," Tim said slowly, sitting down in the chair beside the girl. "I mean, I know he's been reading Victor Hugo stuff, he talked about that, but… really, that book…"

The girl studied his face, and she raised her head, her eyes narrowing a little. "Where exactly did you two meet, again?" she asked.

Tim felt her scrutiny. He stared at Jason, listening to the beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor, and the rasping of the breathing tubes. "My mom and Bruce Wayne have a thing," Tim said, never looking away from Jason's marred face. "We kind of just started hanging out while they were doing their thing."

The girl nodded, smiling brightly all of a sudden. "Tim," she said. He looked at her sharply, and she offered her hand. "I'm Barbara Gordon. I knew who you when you walked in, I was just curious. Do you go by Tim Kyle or Tim Drake?"

"Tim Drake," Tim said, staring at her wildly. "How did you…?"

"I make it my job to know this stuff," she said, shrugging. "Especially when it has to do with the Waynes."

"Oh," Tim said faintly. He gave a little wave. "Well, hi."

"Hi." She smiled, but her eyes were very sad. "Do you mind if I keep reading? I'm almost done with the chapter."

Tim stared at her, and then he looked to Jason's slumbering form. He nodded quickly, and her smile stretched wide. He wondered if she was truly happy, or if she was just smiling to make him feel more comfortable. Either way, it was working, and he smiled wanly back. She gripped the edges of the book, and she bowed her head, a stray red curl sliding against her cheek.

And she read. Her voice was very soft and sweet, like the sound of rain drizzling against windowpanes, and wind grazing through a forest of leaves. She had a natural lull to her, and nature seemed to glaze her. She spoke, and her very breath was a tender, but poignant sound, a wisp on the edge of silence and paper fluttering between fingers.

"Keep going," Tim said when she reached the end of the chapter. She looked up at him curiously, and he noted that her eyes were natural as well, pools of glittering water reflecting his pale face. "It's a good story."

"Yes," she agreed, looking back to Jason's face. The boy, marred and broken as he was, lived. And the sound of him sucking air through tubes was enough for them to know it was true. The beeping of his heart, and the rasping of his breath, served as a morose background to her soft voice. She kept reading.

"The smile of Fatality!" Barbara spoke with a mellifluous cadence. She seemed to like telling stories, and it was obvious by how she spoke. She liked reading to Jason, and Tim was jealous, because he'd never thought of it, and even if he tried now it could never live up to her standard. It occurred to him that she might do this often, but then, he only visited once a week. "Can anything more terrible be imagined? It is the last resource of the pitiless trier ofsouls in his proof of man. The tiger, lurking in destiny, caresses man with a velvet paw. Sinister preparation,hideous gentleness in the monster!"

She read to the end of that chapter, and Tim listened intently. The story was of a man who had a perpetual smile. That was the face on the cover— a man who looked eerily similar to the Joker. The story was not about any sort of Joker, though. It was just about a man whose appearance plagued him, helped him, and confused him. It was as far from the Joker as it could get, and yet, there was that chilly reminder every time Barbara adjusted the book, and the laughing face was bared.

"Do you like it?" Barbara asked, closing the book. Tim nodded eagerly, watching her smile. It looked genuine, but Tim couldn't be sure. Her eyes were tired, and she seemed to have a perpetual sort of sadness clinging to her. That made him sad too. "He has weird taste. I can never quite peg what he likes, you know?" She gave a little laugh, and Tim smiled. "Like, he loves horrible movies, like horror movies made on a 2,000 dollar budget, but he also likes really cheesy romcoms and, like, have you ever tried watching a Disney movie with him? He's a total sap."

"Treasure Planet?" Tim offered.

"He had to leave the room." Barbara grinned, her entire face lighting up. Tim grinned back at her, trying to contain a giggle.

"He likes a little bit of everything," Tim said, smiling over at the boy in the bed. "Probably the best way to like things."

"Well, Jason likes to experience everything." Barbara said slowly, leaning back.

"And he likes a lot of things."

"Very true," Barbara said. She was staring at Jason, and Tim could sense that she was growing upset. She looked at Tim sharply, and she rolled closer to him. "Hey, Tim, do you want to go to a really boring party?"

His eyes widened. "What?"

"Bruce has this stupid charity thing tonight, and I'm going with my dad, and you should come." She tilted her head, and offered him a hand. "I mean, you got anything better to do tonight?"

Truth be told, he had no plans for that night. And when he told Selina, she thought it was the perfect way to get inside a high security building. "That's my boy," she said, bopping his nose. "You get that Bat attracting thing from me."

"Miss S," he said, looking up at her dully. And he smirked. "I have no doubt in my mind that that is exactly where it came from."

Barbara ended up stopping him before he could steal the jewels, but Selina backed him up. "You're not going to try and stop her?" Tim asked as the redhead dragged him back to the party.

"I'm only responsible for you," she said, shrugging. She smirked at Bruce Wayne when his eyes landed on them. "Also, I like watching Bruce squirm."

Tim studied her pale face, and he gave a short laugh, leaning against the back of her wheelchair. "I like you, red," he said thoughtfully, meeting Bruce Wayne's gaze. Tim wanted him to know how bitter he was that the man neglected his visits to Jason's bedside. So he stared, and kept staring until Barbara laughed, tugging him down by the lapels of his jacket so she could his into his ear.

"I like you too, kit, but so help me if you try a stunt like this again while I'm around, your ass is mine to beat to kingdom come. Got it?"

He managed a nervous smile, and nodded slowly. He didn't doubt that she could do it, even with he wheelchair. Anyway, Tim and Barbara were fast friends. They had the same sense of humor, and they formed a bond over their coupled love of technology. In fact, as their friendship bloomed, Barbara took a new hero identity. The Oracle. And it was so cool, Tim even offered his services to her sometimes.

"You want to play hero?" Barbara asked, letting him into her clocktower for the first time.

Tim looked around, and he gave a meager shrug. "All my shows are on hiatus," he said, looking up at a particularly huge screen. "Gotta fill the time somehow, red."

"Ha ha." Barbara had chopped her hair quite short, and it bobbed around her ears in bouncy curly cues when she moved. "Cute, kit. Very cute. However, how can I trust you?"

"Uh," Tim said, his brows rising. "You let me into your secret lair. I'm thinking you trust me."

"Enough not to do anything to harm me," Barbara said, rolling closer to him. "But not enough to not betray me if it's between me and your mother."

Tim rolled his eyes, and he pointed at the computer. "Add me as a contact," he said. Barbara peered at him from behind her glasses, and he smiled gently. "I'm not all bad, red, and I can be pretty useful."

She watched him, her blue eyes trailing across his face. And then she smiled too. "Maybe," she said, wheeling around to her computer.

He ended up being called into the field not too long after, and his reputation became sort of muddy every since. Villains thought him to be a snitch, and heroes thought him to be a crook. He was both, and he didn't care. Selina defended him, and so did Barbara. It was a fine way to live, and as long as he didn't have to deal with Batman it was fine.

Tim's life was good. It was actually better than good, it was amazing. He had friends, and he had people who loved him, and he had a hobby that was insane and dangerous and stupid, and he loved it all so much he could hardly believe that it was real. It was a glorious thrill, and he was sort of drunk on it. He was morphing from a sad, nervous boy to something else entirely. The line between being Tim and being Catlad blurred fast, and suddenly he wasn't sure if they were even separate personas anymore.

He'd been working on a case for Barbara when he came across a thief. The thief was someone he and Selina had heard of, but never encountered. She was a slender girl, small in stature and her technique wasn't quite polished. She had been taught, but sloppily, and that hindered her. Tim noticed how she did things almost without thinking, relying on instinct instead of plans.

The Spoiler was always cloaked in a deep purple shroud, and it hung around her as she worked, shadowing her face. It rippled around her like silk as she moved, and when he got closer he saw that it wasn't silk, but it was glossy and sleek. And durable. He had to give her props for her taste in garb.

He pushed his goggles up, leaning against a column as she slunk out of the building, a rucksack on her back. He smiled, and he cocked his head. "You know, I've had my eye on that little statue for a while now," he called out to her. He watched her jump and whirl around to face him.

He saw her eyes in the darkness, gleaming white and challenging. "Oh," she said, pressing a hand to her chest. "Phew, it's just a cat."

"What?" Tim grinned, but it was more feral than just that. He bared his teeth at her, and it felt malicious. "Thought I was a big scary bat? Get your eyes checked, Spoiler."

That seemed to startle her. "You know me?" she asked, sounding confused. Then she sounded excited, and it was strange. "That's so cool! How'd you find out? I mean, I've never gotten caught before."

"Somehow," Tim murmured, folding his arms across his chest. "We like to know our competition."

"Oh," the girl said, blinking rapidly. He stared, shock hitting him hard as she pulled the backpack off by its thin strap, and she offered it out to him. The moonlight glistened on the shadowy contours of her purple cloak, and he face was nothing but an obscure smile, and bright eyes. "Here, you can have it if you want."

"Excuse me?" he asked, jolting up straight. Spoiler moved closer, still holding out the faded brown rucksack.

"You said you had your eye on it," she said, holding it out. "So take it, stupid."

"You are not seriously handing me a 40,000 dollar statue," he said, holding up his hands. What kind of trick is this?

"Hmm…" She tilted her head, and she gave a soft laugh. "Nah, you're right. Too easy." She pulled the bag closer to her chest, and she looked at it for a few moments. She snapped her fingers, and she pointed at him. "Okay, how about this? I'll give it to you if you… say…" She grinned, and jerked her arm out, the strap hanging from her wrist, and the bag swaying slightly. "Buy me a cup of coffee?"

"You're not for real," Tim said faintly. He was reaching for the bag, though, moving closer to her. "There's no way that's a fair trade."

"Fine," she said, shrugging. "In Paris."

He grasped the strap of the bag, and she slid her hand away. He unzipped the rucksack, only to make sure the statue was actually in there. "Coffee in Paris, huh?" he said, smirking. He looked up at her, and he shook his head in disbelief. "Why?"

"I've always wanted to go to Paris," she said. She smiled up at the sky, and she cocked her head. "And also, it's not bad to have friends in this business."

There was a truth to that statement that he couldn't help but agree with. He studied her, still never seeing her face, and he zipped up the bag, tossing it over his shoulder. "Give me your phone number," he said.

"Give me yours," she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

They ended up compromising in the end, and they parted with the girl warning him what would happen if he went back on his word. He swore he wouldn't. When all was said and done, he was left with a statue that he didn't know what to do with. In the end, he gave it to Selina.

But the girl never called. That was the odd thing. Tim tried not to think too much of it, but after a few weeks, he knew that something had to be wrong. A girl didn't just trade a 40,000 dollar statue for a date, and not take the date. It made no sense. So he tried calling her. At first the machine that picked up didn't bother him, because she could be elsewhere it was fine. He even learned her name.

"Hi, it's Steph!" the girl's sharp, bubbly voice reached through the phone striking a chord with him. "Totally sucks I can't answer right now, but hey, leave a message for me, kay? Thanks!"

But he kept getting her machine. And that terrified him.

"Selina," he said, staring at his phone somberly. "I know you have that rule where if they don't call first, they're not worth it, but I'm seriously freaking out right now."

Selina had been lounging in the living room, eating left over Chinese from the previous night. She glanced up at him, and offered up a spring roll, which he took after some contemplation. He sat down beside her, and she gave a sigh, which struck him as peculiar.

"Look," she said tenderly. "I know that you liked the girl—"

"It's not even that, Miss S!" He swung his head back and huffed. "I mean, not that I didn't like her, she was really cool, but like… she's missing, Selina. I know she is, and I have no idea what to do. This isn't my fault, is it?"

"I don't think so, kitten," she said, smoothing his hair back. "In this business, sometimes it's best to move around. Maybe something came up, and she had to run."

"I don't know." Tim pulled up his legs, pressing them tightly to his chest. "Maybe…"

"Don't stress about it, kitten," she said, swooping down to kiss his temple. He stared ahead at the television, and he felt a sinking sort of despair as he let his mind wander. The poor girl could be anywhere, and anything could be happening to her, and he felt like it was his fault.

The Spoiler ended up disappearing completely. Tim tried sleuthing for her, but by the time he looked through her apartment it had been cleaned out. He had no leads, no real knowledge of where the girl might be hiding. Hell, he didn't even know her last name. He was stuck, and he had to let it go. He asked Barbara to help him, but she had found nothing on The Spoiler. And so the world kept turning, and Tim was left with the gnawing guilt.

At seventeen, he'd left behind the gawky child who could never quite comprehend how Catwoman did things. He was now more her son than he'd ever been Janet and Jack Drake's, and that was something that had never quite struck him. He was very comfortable in his own skin, and he was happy to be where he was. He loved stealing, but he also loved helping people. Finding that odd medium was a bit difficult, but eventually he figured it out. He split his nights between working for Oracle, and working for Catwoman. Barbara had a list of the things he'd stolen, and they'd made a sort of deal. So long as Tim kept working for her, she wouldn't turn them in to the police. Which he thought was sweet, all things considering.

"Hey, red!" he called, letting himself into the clocktower. The expansive screens stretching upward and over, the sleek technology gleaming against the dim lights. Tim was reading a through the grocery list Barbara had texted to him, just to make sure he'd got everything. He had the plastic bag resting against his shoulder as he flicked down the list. "So I got you hot chocolate and mini marshmallows, because it's winter and everyone should—"

"Wow, O, you've got kids to do your stuff for you?" A voice chuckled softly, and Tim looked up. "Teach me your ways of persuasion, oh wise one!"

"Shut up, Wally," Barbara said, rolling forward to grab the bag from Tim. He blinked slowly, and stared at the group huddled around the main computer screen.

"Shit," Tim swore. "Titans."

The Titans didn't come to Gotham often, but Catlad had ran into them once when he had been fifteen. He'd almost ended up in jail, but Catwoman had saved his skin just in time. Now that he looked, he saw the boy who had almost caught him was in the group.

"And Teen Titans!" chirped a brunette boy, pushing through to the front and grinning broadly. Tim glanced at the red lightning bolt, and he sighed. Kid Flash. Right. He was going to have to make note of who was here, and warn Selina. The boy glanced around, and he frowned a little. "Well, some of us."

"Right," Tim said, looking through the group of them, trying to put names to faces.

Flash and Kid Flash were obvious. The boy who had nearly caught him last time he'd faced the group had an S shield emblazoned on his chest, so it wasn't too hard to figure him out. Superboy was watching him with a hint of distrust, and probably was realizing that he knew him. The others were a little tougher. There was a blonde girl with big blue eyes that was watching him with interest, and the more he looked at her attire, he realized that she had to be Wonder Girl. Those three were the youngest, the rest of the group being all adults. There was a scantily clad orange woman who was hovering very close to Barbara's right side, watching Tim curiously. Tim noted that her eyes were very bright, glowing green, and were utterly lacking irises or pupils. The solid glow was enough to unnerve him a little, but she had a sweet face, and her hair fell in unruly red ringlets that melted into a soft orange color.

There were other adults. Another woman stood at Barbara's left side, long faced and attentive. Her hair was shorter than the orange woman's, falling to her shoulders in tumbling black waves. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and her features were soft, except for her severely sharp cheekbones. She wore a glimmering black once-piece suit, a halter that seemed to hug her curves. A second skin, but less garish than what the Flashes wore. The man that was with them was dark skinned, his face half covered by sleek looking armor. He was a big man, and his armor made him look bulkier than he truly was. He was standing at the computer screen, not entirely concerned with Tim's presence.

"Everyone," Barbara said, setting the plastic bag on a table. "This is my friend Tim. Or, as you might know him, Catlad."

Sueprboy's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open in shock and confusion, and possibly anger. His brow furrowed as he was about to shout something, but the armored man beat him to it.

"Huh?" The large man's mechanical red eye was the first thing Tim saw, and he stared at him, realizing that the bulk was not armor. "Barb, I thought we were helping to protect the city from criminals!"

"Vic," Barbara said gently. "Calm down. All of you calm down. Tim's a thief, yes, but he's not evil. And as I said, he's my friend, and he helps me."

"But he's a thief," Superboy said, his blue eyes narrowed at Tim's face. Tim smiled sweetly back at him, folding his arms across his chest. "And it's kind of our job to, you know, catch thieves!"

"Red and I have a deal," Tim said, watching them all watch him. It was almost amusing how the tone had shifted. Even the Flash boys were watching him with distrust. "She ignores my criminal antics if I make up for it by giving a bit back to society. Like, parole. But more fun."

"You still steal though," Superboy pointed out, his voice brisk and bitter.

"I'm not Batman," Barbara said. "I won't send him to jail if he helps me."

"But that's—!"

"Quiet!" barked the woman with black hair. "This isn't why we're here."

"Yes!" agreed the orange woman, clasping her hands together and smiling. "We should welcome a friend of Barbara's as a friend of our own!"

"Aw," Tim said, smirking a little at the incredulous looks the woman received. "Thanks. So, who are you guys?"

"Oh!" The orange woman floated over to him, landing delicately on her feet, which were clad in boots that reached to her thighs. And I thought me and Selina over did the sex appeal thing, he thought, his brow raising. "I am called Koriand'r— Starfire, if it please."

"Oh, right." Tim blinked, recalling the girl's name. "Red's talked about you."

"Do you always call her 'red'?" Starfire asked, her green eyes big.

"Yeah." Tim glanced at Barbara who was watching with her arms folded. "She calls me kit. Like, kitten. Anyway, what's going on now?"

Barbara waved her hand quickly, introducing the rest of the crew. Cyborg and Troia were the ones he hadn't recognized. She went on quickly, ignoring any interjections. "This concerns you more than I expected it to," Barbara said, gesturing for him to follow her to the computer. "As you know, Batman's out of town."

"Oh yeah," Tim said, grimacing a little. "Crimes gone way up the last few days. If it makes you feel better, me and Miss S haven't done a job in a few weeks."

"I personally think you should quit," Barbara said. Tim rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to object, but she waved him off. "An argument for a different day, though. See, Batman is with the Justice League, and they're dealing with something huge. That's not my problem. My problem is, the increasing crime rate in Gotham just nearly cost Jason Todd his life." Barbara retrieved something from her desk, and she tossed it at him.

It was a kunai. Sleek, polished steel glinted in the dim light, and he weighed it in his palm, twirling it and testing the tip with the pad of his thumb. He sucked the bead of blood away, running his tongue over the puncture, and wincing a bit. He glanced up at Barbara, and he felt as if someone had just sucked all the fun out of the room very suddenly.

"I'm in," he said, gripping the handle of the kunai tightly. He felt a spike of fear and rage mingle inside him, a dance of confusion. "Tell me who the son of a bitch was."


Note: Wow, lots going on in this chapter! Barbara is reading The Man Who Laughs by Victor Hugo, which is where all the quotes for this story come from including the title. In Chapter 5, Jason was reading that book to Barbara in the hospital after she was shot. Also I introduced some Teen Titans? I'm not quite sure how it worked in the comics, but here there's basically like three branches of big name hero teams, Justice League, Titans, and Teen Titans. Why is this important? Because though Wally is the Flash in this story, Barry is still the Flash in the Justice League. And why did I make that decision? It was just easier for me personally, idk man.

Particular amount of cred to Victor Hugo for writing that dumb book, bc you know, without it we'd never have the Joker's beautiful appearance.