So uh. Hi. Okay so, ngl I totally forgot to ya know. Post the new chapter on here and Wattpad when I updated it on AO3. My bad! Anyway we're getting to the start of episode 3. Yes I need to start the next chapter, no I don't know when that's going to happen. I apologize. Warning, this contains spoilers for Batman Beyond The Call Part 1 and 2. I hope you'll enjoy The chapter!

"Are you sure there's still no signs of Speedy?" Terry asked for Dick.

Sitting on Bruce's desk, he fiddled with a pen. The one Bruce was using actually.

Was he interrupting any important paperwork? Probably. But from the looks of it, the old man wasn't doing much anyway.

Blue eyes locked onto blue eyes. Bruce had that calculating look in them. That look of thinking. Of debating. Terry knew this deep within his soul. He guessed that this is what most Bruces do.

"Well," the man started as he pluck the pen from smaller fingers, "we might have a lead."

Now that grabbed both boy's attention.

"What do you mean by 'might?'"

Again, that calculating look in his eyes. Was the information he had something that Dick wouldn't like? Terry probably wouldn't like it either.

"We think he's still working, as there have been reports of criminals being taken down by 'Speedy without Green Arrow', but we haven't fully tracked him down to any specific place."

"Did he take anything of his when he left?" Dick had filled Terry in that Roy was living with Oliver. "Any personal items besides ya know." He then mimed the bow and arrow.

Bruce just sighed. "No."

Man, did the old man look tired.

'Remind me to force Bruce to take a nap.' Terry thought to Dick. Absentmindedly he began to tap a random tune on the desk.

'Only if we get Alfred to help us.' Dick thought back with exasperation. 'Trust me when I say that doing it all alone is pretty much a losing battle.'

Mentally Terry snorted. 'Don't I know it.'

Old man Bruce Wayne is cranky Bruce Wayne. And tired Bruce Wayne is hell.

"But," the subject of the secret conversation broke the train of thought, "we think we might have an idea where he would be tonight."

If the sentence from earlier grabbed the boy's attention, this certainly yanked it.

"Really? Where?"

"That," Bruce said with that tone of voice Terry never quite liked, "is classified."

Some sort of weird scoff snort mangled itself out of 'his' throat.

"Bruce!" He cried out, hands being thrown into the air. He narrowly missed the desk lamp in his haste. "Come on! You gotta tell me where he is!"

Frustration from two boys mingled as they watched the richest man in Gotham lean back. Slightly scarred fingers steepled just beneath the nose. They stared down each other for a mere moment.

"No."

"Gah!" Terry shouted, jumping off the desk, "why not!"

He quickly turned around to face the man. Who in turn still had that look in his eyes.

Bruce was hiding something. Terry just didn't know what. "We're debating on if we should contact him or not." The man finally settled on.

Furrowing 'his' eyebrows, Terry tilted 'his' head. "What do you mean?"

"We're not sure how exactly he would react to the news." Bruce spoke slowly. Deliberately. "And we're not sure what he would do as a result. I understand that Roy felt… betrayed, and is angry as a result of what had happened on July fourth."

Terry scoffed freely at that. "Yeah no kidding." He then ran fingers through 'his' hair. "His world would be rocked. If we managed to give him the news." He added that last bit.

'To find out your uncle has been living a life with fake memories…' Terry thought, shaking 'his' head.

'Kinda makes you wonder how long Jim and Roy actually knew each other.' Dick thought back. 'I mean, if Jim knew Roy since he was a kid-'

'Wait.' Terry interrupted. He put a hand to 'his' chin. 'You said Jim knew Roy since he was a kid?'

He could feel Dick's hesitation. 'Yeah… why?'

'If Jim's memories, practically all of them, were fake, then wouldn't that mean the memories of when he knew Roy as a kid were fake too?'

A moment of silence… was realization a feeling? Was it something like horror?

'Then if Roy said he knew Jim as a kid, then how would the memories match up.' Something like denial bubbled up between their connection. 'Wait wait wait. Bruce said that our Jim might not be the real Jim. So maybe they gave him the real Jim's memories?'

Oh he was going to hate having to entertain this thought. 'Or,' Terry began slowly, 'like Bruce said, there never was a Jim Harper.'

Shock rippled through.

'But-'

'That means someone tampered with Roy's memories too.' Terry had to say it. He had to. He hated it.

'But why would they do that?' Dick asked.

That. He didn't know. The only thing that was anything like this was…

Terry sharply inhaled.

'Did I ever tell you how I met Superman and became a member of the Justice League?' He suddenly asked, inner voice automatically going down to his usual Batman register. He knew he didn't tell the younger boy. But it needed to be asked.

'No?'

'Superman approached me to join the league. Later he told me he wanted me to investigate the members of the league. Joining it was just a guise.'

'Why?'

'Because it was suspected that there was a traitor in the league. Micron, a member, got attacked and was in critical condition. Nearly got killed. More attempts on the others lives confirmed the suspicions. Later on we even thought Warhawk was really dead.'

'But you said thought. Warhawk's still alive?'

'Yes. And when Bruce and I went to investigate…'

'What? What was it?'

'We found out that it was Superman that did it.'

'WHAT?!'

Terry winced at the shout.

"Dick?"

Startled, Terry glanced up to Bruce. The man was staring at him. His hands were in a more lax clasped state while his, very minute facial expressions, showed a bit of curiosity.

"Uh," 'his' voice cracked. Heat rose up as he cleared 'his' throat. "Yeah Bruce?"

The man stared at him a little longer. Thinking. Always thinking.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked. It surprised Terry how soft it sounded.

Should he tell him?

Terry was an outsider with an outsider's perspective…

"I'm… wondering if any memories of Roy's match up with Jim's…" Terry began slowly. "And if… if somehow they, whoever they are, Cadmus or whatever, we're able to do this with Jim… if they were able to do it to Roy. Mind control him or something. Memory alteration. That stuff."

'Terry…' Dick's voice sounded desperate.

Terry stared at Bruce straight in the eyes. "If Jim was able to be like this for years, who knows how long they were able to do something similar with Roy."

Ever so slightly, almost gravely, did Bruce nod. "Then you understand why we have to be careful when contacting him?"

'His' shoulders drooped down. "In case any of 'them' are still in contact with Roy."

"Yes."

It felt terribly cold in Bruce's office.

"It's best that we take care of it. Okay Dick?"

All was silent… and then… "okay."

'Why?' Dick thought. He didn't need to elaborate for Terry to understand.

'Because we found out that Superman was being controlled. By an alien named Starro for five years Dick. Five years. And nobody noticed until we went to confront him on being the traitor.'

Bruce stood up from his chair. He made his way close to Terry, and set a hand onto 'his' shoulder. "We'll find a way to get everything sorted. And when that's done we can help Roy in any way we can."

Sincerity was written all over the man's face. It was so… so… open.

Leaning into the touch, Terry said, softly, "Okay."

Then the man gave him a small smile. So much like and unlike the ones Terry has come to know from another time. Another universe.

Slowly, over the past few days, Bruce had been doing quite a bit to… hang out? Bond with? Something like that, with Dick. Going to the concert the week prior had seemingly broke the ice. During his days in charge of the body, Terry was learning how to act around Bruce.

But he doesn't think he could ever, ever, get used to seeing Bruce this… open.

He obviously haven't gone through what his Bruce has gone through… not with Tim and-

Wait.

Tim. Tim, Tim, Tim Tim Tim Tim Tim.

TIM.

It had to be a coincidence.

But the Tim here… no. Definitely a coincidence. There's no way little stalker kid Tim was little street orphan Tim Drake. The Robin who got his wings clipped.

He… was not going to think about that now. He needed to sort of focus on Roy. And if on the slight chance that little Tim was in fact the same Tim Drake then Terry would have to do his damn best to make sure the Joker never gets his grubby hands on the kid.

Although it didn't help that Tim didn't really talk about himself yesterday when Dick made the boys try putting on gauzes on each other. In fact Tim was only focused on the lesson and doing it right. If anything they learned that Jason has a bit of brotherly instincts himself.

"Dick?" Bruce asked again.

"Hm?" He focused back over to that youthful face. "Yeah. I'm just still thinking. Can't help but be worried you know?"

Bruce… smiled a wider smile at him and nodded.

Now Terry knows that Bruce Wayne smiles. He was given all sorts of smiles since he first met the man. Well, the man he worked under. This Bruce Wayne's smiles we're more frequent. And usually they happened when Dick was in charge. Mainly due to Terry not really interacting with Bruce.

But god it felt weird. And the man still had his hand on 'his' shoulder.

"So." Terry said, suddenly. "Since you guys are doing that, I'm going to-"

"Interact with your team tomorrow." Bruce interrupted.

"I-" Terry blinked rapidly. "What?"

Bruce smirked. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you haven't gone to them since we gave you our answer."

Blood rushed up. Heat flared.

Whoops.

'Aw man!' Dick moaned. 'I knew we were forgetting something!'

He managed to bring out a sheepish smile. "If I said I forgot would you believe me?"

Amusement was apparent as Bruce hummed. "I suppose I could."

Relief flooded both boys at that. "So tomorrow?" He asked.

Bruce nodded. "I thought I might as well give you the heads up. Now run along, I need to do some paperwork."

Bruce? Actually doing paperwork? Terry laughed out loud at that. "Sure, don't have too much fun without me."

Slipping out of Bruce's hold, Terry escaped the office. As he ran he couldn't help but remember when he first found Mr. Wayne actually doing his role as CEO.

Holding a freshly brewed cup of tea, Terry knocked on the rich dark doors.

"Come in." The grumble came through, muffled by the thickness of the doors itself.

The teen smiled. Opening the door, he peaked in.

There, in the middle of an organized mess, with glasses on his face, was Bruce Wayne in all his glory.

Whistling, he fully let himself in. "Do my eyes deceive me? The all mighty Bruce Wayne using a pair of readers? Or do you call them cheaters?"

The old man just looked at him.

Ignoring the look, as he can tell how much he was annoying his boss, Terry walked closer to the desk. He quickly looked around for a coaster.

Heaven forbid that there would be any staining on the wood.

Finding one, he set the mug down.

Looking up from the cup, he saw Bruce look at him with a single raised eyebrow.

"Tea?" The man asked.

"Thought you can use a break." Terry smirked, gesturing his head to the huge pile of paper Bruce has yet to get to. He didn't even bother with the mountain that Bruce managed to get through before Terry even knew what was happening.

It took awhile for him to get to the Manor. Possibly even longer to find Bruce. The man hadn't responded much other than to play with Ace.

Terry made tea.

"Hn."

He just snickered.

"I'll have to finish this as soon as I can." Bruce suddenly said. "Now that Paxton is in prison, I have my company back."

"And lemme guess. This paperwork is needed for you to get back on your throne. Right?"

That infamous shark sharp smirk was thrown his way. "Not exactly."

He watched as Bruce slowly sank down into his plush chair. It was… surprising to see the man do this. How he let his bones wind down. Let his shoulders sag. A familiar look crossed over Bruce's face. Something that looked vulnerable.

Something that made him look his age.

"Some of this is actually paperwork that I haven't touched in years. Things that deserve to finally be read and be decided if they're still relevant or not."

Mr. Wayne took his glasses off. It was incredible to watch the old man rub his eyes. It was a very humanizing thing to see.

Terry knew Bruce was human just like everyone else.

It just felt like the man was larger than life sometimes.

These rare moments help him remember that Bruce was no spring chicken anymore.

"Sounds fun." Terry said, not really knowing what else to say.

"Not really." Bruce said as he put the glasses back on. "Now you said you made tea?"

He smiled at this. "Yep!" A quick gesture to the mug. "First time I made this blend. Lemme know what you think."

Again, an eyebrow rose.

A moment passed.

Bruce finally took the cup. He stared at its contents for another moment before he sniffed it.

Terry's confidence sure was growing.

Sip.

"Where did you get this?" Bruce sharply turned his gaze to his assistant. Terry wasn't surprised by the scowl that appeared.

Time to come clean. "A recipe I found. Bruce, you know I've been finding Alfred's recipes to try out."

"This is the first time you actually gave me anything of his."

It was true.

"Well," he began, "there's only so many people who I can try the recipes on. I'd figured I'd make you my guinea pig this time 'round."

The scowl never left.

"So?" Terry prompted. "What do you think."

Time really liked to crawl around the two.

"I think," Bruce said before taking another sip, "that Alfred would think this would be adequate."

Score!

Terry beamed at that.

"Although I appreciate the break, Alfred would probably scold you for trying to take me away from my paperwork." Bruce said, setting the mug back down.

"Oh?" Terry smirked. "Did you try to procrastinate your paperwork a lot?"

Bruce smirked back. "I suppose you could say that."

Shaking his head from the memory, Terry skidded to Dick's room.

He needed to get ready for the kids.

Tim fell down to the ground with an 'oof.' His chest rose and fell quickly. He looked flushed.

"Damn, you lasted longer than I thought." Jason spoke Terry's and Dick's thoughts.

Today was all about endurance. Well, for Tim it was. Jason was memorizing a book Terry had found about self defense.

The plan was that as Tim ran around the park, Jason would read what the book had. And depending how far he got when Tim came back, he would read all that aloud to Tim. It would be something good and informative for Tim to listen to as he cooled down from the run.

The book was rather thick. Tim came back at the end of chapter five.

They expected him to be back at chapter two.

'I think we underestimated him.' Dick thought. 'Although you'd think we shouldn't since he's ya know, a little stalker kid.'

Terry visibly frowned. Reaching down, he grabbed Tim's water bottle. It wasn't as ice cold as it used to be. If Tim kept this up they might have to start bringing energy drinks.

'Or maybe he's pushing himself.' Terry thought back. 'I know I did that plenty of times. I'm sure you did too.'

'Ya know,' Dick told him as he squatted down next to the kid, 'I'm wondering if you can genuinely read my mind.'

Mentally Terry snorted. Arms reached for Tim's head and back. God he looked so tiny. 'Considering we can feel each other's emotions and this how we talk to each other, I wouldn't be surprised.'

"Open your mouth." He instructed.

Tim cracked his eyes open. Fatigue was evident, but those blue eyes were as sharp and focused as ever.

Quick glance to the bottle and Tim immediately went to reach for it-

Terry quickly yanked it out of Tim's range. "Ah, but don't drink it too fast."

Tim goaned.

"You didn't let me finish-"

'More like you didn't even start in the first place-'

"-I don't want you to drink it all. Gotta save some for later. Savor it ya know?"

"Basically he doesn't want you to drink too much water and then puke because it's too much for your stomach." Jason supplied.

It wouldn't be all that surprising if Jason was rolling his eyes.

Tim nodded as Terry brought the bottle back to him. With his help, Tim sat up to drink properly. He flipped the lid.

Small sips.

Good.

When he was done, Terry took the water bottle away. It felt pretty heavy still. It was nice to know that Tim had listened to him about being careful, but at the same time he worried.

Keeping a hold of the water bottle, Terry picked Tim up. "Okay kid, story time."

Tim, of course, sputtered.

"I-I can walk!" He argued.

"I know." Terry cheerily replied.

Only a few steps were needed to bring Tim over to where Jason sat underneath a tree. It wasn't much trouble. Kid felt lighter than the water bottle.

Which wasn't good for various reasons.

Okay maybe Terry was exaggerating, but the point still stood.

'We are so going to feed him.' Terry thought. Tim, somehow, subtly pouted as Jason patted him on the head once he was seated down onto the grass.

The teen sat Tim's bottle down next to the tiny boy. "I want you to sip on it while Jason reads to you okay?"

'I'm pretty sure nine year olds are supposed be heavier than however he weighs.' Dick mumbled.

"Yeah okay." Tim mumbled.

Soft snickers filled the air. Even though Jason was teasing the boy, Terry could see he was worried. It was comforting to see.

'Nine year olds are supposed to be around what? Sixty four pounds?' Thought Terry, recalling how Matt boasted how much he weighed on the scale they (for some odd reason) had in their bathroom. Slowly he walked a little bit away, leaning on another tree. Watching the two interact. 'Tim could be forty five pounds wet.'

'Are we sure Tim's nine?' Dick asked incredibly.

'If he is then either he's just tiny for his age or something isn't right at his home. If he isn't then he's probably thinks lying about his age might help him somehow.'

The mental scoff alone was enough for him to want to make one physically. 'Is it bad for me to hope it's the first option?'

'Nope.' Terry popped his 'p.'

Although, he wondered if the house could be fixed faster.

But for now, Terry let himself watch the two boys get along swimmingly.