Prologue


Tim had conjured up Mount Justice in his mind so many times that he had the place practically memorized. That was a ridiculous idea, of course. Tim had never stepped foot into the grand halls of the teenage vigilante base, let alone known enough details to memorize it.

And yet, that did not stop him from imagining.

For countless nights, Tim had lain awake in his bed at Wayne Manor, constructing the hideout's corridors within his mind. Not even when sleep promised relief from his aching bruises or from the sheer exhaustion of Batman's relentless training was he able to will his eyes shut. Instead, he stared absently at his bedroom's blank ceiling in New Jersey with his mind hundreds of miles away along the Rhode Island coast.

He pictured chattering teenagers laughing together within the base's common rooms. Or better yet, those same teenagers all gathered in some missions room, suited up and heatedly debating task strategies. He imagined brightly lit halls, probably more modern than what he was accustomed to, considering that his life was spent surrounded by Gotham's gothic architecture. Mount Justice also certainly wouldn't have the shadows of gargoyles that chased Tim when he snooped around at night.

That would be a relief, Tim figured. He wasn't scared of the fearsome gargoyles, their mouths frozen into perpetual roars. Now at the ripe age of twelve, he was too old for that… But he couldn't deny that their pensive stares did tend to set his nerves on edge when he came upon one unexpectedly.

In reality, though, the interior of Mount Justice was darker than he imagined. There were no windows except for the few skylights that streamed light beams into the otherwise unnaturally lit hideout. It made sense, and Tim probably should have considered that in his imaginary construction. The base was supposed to be secret, and it wouldn't do any good to have massive windows that advertised what was hidden within. But the feeble attempt at secrecy struck Tim as slightly ironic, considering the mountain already stuck out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of Rhode Island's otherwise flat coastline.

The base was quieter than he'd imagined too. Only Tim and Bruce stood together in the hangar as the sound of the Zeta-tube's electric whirring winded down behind them. "Recognized, Batman and Guest," an automated feminine voice flittered over loudspeakers.

Bruce had warned Tim that the first time using a Zeta-tube would make his stomach feel a little achy. But there were already so many butterflies floating around in his gut that it probably didn't make much difference either way. Tim's head swiveled on his neck as he looked around for everyone, simultaneously eager and terrified to see any of the young heroes he'd read so much about.

"They're finishing up a mission," Batman's gruff voice spoke up as if reading Tim's thoughts. "They'll be filtering in soon."

While suited up, Bruce Wayne tended to discard his generally affable demeanor in favor of the stoic attitude that Batman was widely known for. Tim had grown well used to the dichotomy over the past dozen or so weeks. But he was no less intimidated whenever the white eyes of the Bat's cowl were directed at him.

Tim shivered, more from nerves than anything else. Batman didn't move, so Tim didn't move either, but his skin thrummed as he held himself at his mentor's side. His eyes darted through the hangar, taking everything in, longing to get a closer look, longing to touch.

"Batman," someone welcomed. From the far edge of the domed hangar, a door hissed shut behind a young Black man with light blond hair and pale green eyes that looked at the newcomers intently.

"Aqualad," Batman answered, speaking over Tim, who also whispered the hero's name (though with a bit more reverence.)

Tim was frozen on the spot, his eyes wide open like an owl as he watched the older boy approach. His heart thundered in his chest, disbelief coursing through him that he was actually standing before the real, live Aqualad. Tim had followed the Young Justice team for so long, absorbing every bit of media featuring them that he could get his little hands on. That obsession, of course, included the team's de facto leader, who'd been raised in Atlantis before becoming Aquaman's protégé and eventually the chosen leader of the Young Justice squad.

He nearly blushed when Aqualad's eyes drifted to him. "Who have you brought with you today, sir?" he asked of Batman, clasping his hands behind his back.

Batman reached down and pressed his hand between Tim's shoulder blades, gently pushing him forward. Tim took an unsure step and grabbed his hands behind his back, echoing Aqualad's stance. He dropped his hands back to his side immediately when he realized how awkward the posture felt on him, a cheap imitation of the hero's.

Totally unaware of Tim's inner turmoil, Batman spoke above him, "This is Timothy Drake. He's in my care and will begin training with The Team once his basic training with me concludes. He's proven himself to be more than ready."

Tim's blush deepened as he preened at Batman's praise.

Batman had doubted him at first. He hadn't been too sure of the young boy who'd cornered him in his office, demanding to join his crusade. And in retrospect, Tim couldn't blame him. Their introduction to each other had been rather unorthodox and a divergence from Batman's regular mode of recruitment. But Bruce had given him a chance, and Tim had honored that gift by quickly proving his worth.

He'd already trained for the position of Robin long before he all but demanded to join the team. So, by the time he started his official training, he admittedly had a bit of a head start. But it was simply a testament to all the grueling work he'd dedicated his young life to.

And now he was finally here.

Aqualad's eyebrow quirked up. "Oh?" he asked, looking down at Tim with renewed interest. "Pardon my inquiry, sir, but I wonder if the others are aware of this arrangement?"

There was something hidden in his question. Something being left unsaid. Tim looked between the two men curiously. Batman was hard to decipher, his cowl obscuring half of his features, but Aqualad was unmasked as always, and in his expression, Tim saw something close to... worry.

Bruce grunted and gave Tim another firm nudge, "Go," he said, "Take a look around."

Tim knew a dismissal when he heard one. He ached to stay and listen to the rest of the conversation, knowing that it pertained to him, but reluctantly nodded. He didn't want to give Batman any reason to rethink taking him under his literal and metaphorical wing.

Misinterpreting Tim's hesitation for shyness, Aqualad squatted at eye level with Tim and smiled kindly. "You will find the common room through those doors and down the hallway to the left. I assure you the others will be eager to meet you, Tim."

It wasn't until Tim was at the far end of the hangar that Batman and Aqualad resumed their conversation. Tim lingered, straining his ears to focus on their hushed voices, feigning interest in the training mat in the center of the room. A group of punching bags shaped like muscular men stared him down meanly.

"I spoke with Dick this morning and asked him not to tell Jason until I could introduce them personally. This changes nothing. We will create a new role for Tim." At Aqualad's answering silence, Batman continued, "You have a concern you wish to air, Kaldur'ahm?"

Aqualad sighed, "Forgive me, sir, but I fear today might not be the best of days to have this conversation."

Batman's voice went all business in an instant, "The mission? What happened?"

"For all intents and purposes, the mission was a success. We located the hideout and apprehended the scientists who'd been crafting a serum that fused human DNA with animals to enhance superhuman abilities—" Aqualad paused, hesitating.

"And?" Batman asked impatiently. He probably knew all this already. Tim had seen him dole out dozens of missions to The Team virtually, and it was no surprise that he'd been the orchestrator for this one as well. Tim made his way over to a massive sphere at the far end of the hangar that looked rather like a pill bug. Though turned away, he was no less focused on the conversation.

To his credit, Aqualad didn't cower at Bruce's daunting tone, "And in our sweep of the building, we came across two children of one of the scientists. They weren't used for testing the serum, to our knowledge. But they were in a particularly neglected state, and that is putting it mildly," his voice was clinical, but Tim could hear an undercurrent of concern. "I believe it struck a nerve. Jason. He- he just shut down, sir."

Batman answered with a short "Hn," at which point Tim quickly glanced over his shoulder at his mentor. Batman stood straight, his arms crossed over his chest. His mouth was dipped in a deep scowl. "I will speak to him," he said.

Aqualad frowned but didn't say anything more on the matter. Their conversation shifted towards discussing mission logistics. Growing bored, Tim walked out of the hangar.

Aqualad told him that the common room was to the left, but as Tim neared the door, he found himself hesitating. Sweat gathered in his palms.

Inside the room, he heard tittering voices combined with boisterous laughter. Tim pressed close to the doorframe, peering through the slightly open crack of the sliding door.

There they were. So many faces that Tim recognized, so many faces that he had long dreamed of meeting.

Miss Martian, wearing civies with auburn hair pulled into a wet ponytail, sat on a countertop; her head rested on Superboy's shoulder. Both were listening in on a conversation being had on the jarringly green couches that occupied the center room. On one couch, Artemis sat with her legs propped up over the armchair. She batted away Kid Flash, who zipped around her in a clearly taunting play for her attention. Artemis was scowling, but her eyes glittered with obvious affection. Rocket and Zatanna sat together on another couch, both laughing at Kid Flash's antics before feigning seriousness at Artemis's answering scowl in their direction.

Dick Grayson was among them, and Tim's breath nearly stopped. Dick Grayson sat on the back of one of the couches. His head was tucked into his chest, his shoulders shaking in unmistakable laughter, though he kept glancing at another door along the back wall as if he were waiting for someone.

Tim stumbled backward when Dick's attention turned to the door where he hid. Though he was sure that the crack had been small enough and he hadn't been seen, he pressed his back against the wall out of sight.

His reaction confused him. Tim had never been shy… at least until that moment. In fact, Tim was used to being the center of attention. He was popular in his social circles, often lauded for his smarts, or his athletics, or his… money. The last of which Tim never felt was a fair assessment of his attributes, considering that money belonged to his parents.

Tim's parents also often paraded him around at their home parties and boasted his achievements to their distinguished peers. They flaunted him the same way they flaunted the rare artifacts they brought home from their many archaeological digs. At least, unlike those treasures, Tim had the benefit of not being contained within a protective glass box. Though perhaps that said something of his parent's priorities as well…

Tim never complained about those parties. In fact, he'd grown rather fond of them because they were the only occasion when his parents voiced their praise of his accomplishments.

But suddenly, those accomplishments felt so small in the presence of literal heroes. Who cared if Tim did well in school if he was pitted against credentials that included literally saving the world? Becoming very self-conscious, Tim turned away from the door and scurried down the twisting corridor. His breathing only returned to normal until long after the voices disappeared behind him.

Once far enough away that he was sure no one would be coming after him, he slowed his pace. He brushed his fingers along the natural stone walls between the creases of the sediment layers. Methodically he deconstructed what he'd imagined Mount Justice to be and committed every new detail to memory.

He briefly explored the showers and locker rooms, obviously recently used based on the suits thrown around the benches. He pressed his nose against the door window to the mission room. The door was unfortunately locked, but inside a glowing projector rained eerie blue light over a circular table. He bypassed doors that obviously led to private bedrooms; his curiosity did not extend that far. And he did not wish for his first impression made to the team to be that of a creep who snooped around their rooms.

Finally, Tim came upon a descending staircase. He turned back to the hallway that he'd just come down. Bruce was probably looking for him. But when he heard water below, he couldn't deny himself one quick peek before turning back.

The staircase was long and winding. Little rivulets of water trickled down the walls between the rock crevices before disappearing into the cracks where stairs met the wall. His steps felt loud against the impossible quiet.

At the bottom of the staircase, Tim's steps stuttered to a stop, and his foot hesitated on the landing.

The staircase opened to a large underground grotto. Tim hadn't been wrong when he heard water at the top of the stairs. Sure enough, most of the room was taken up by a large shallow pond, only broken up by two landings separated by a wooden bridge.

But it was who was sitting on that bridge that made Tim pause.

A boy was there, with his knees pulled up loosely and his elbows draped atop them. Unlike the other vigilantes, he still wore his suit. And god, Tim would have recognized it anywhere. It was a mixture of crimson, black, and gold, only distinguishable from his predecessor's uniform by the golden clasp at his neck and the italicized R on his chest.

Tim had heard a lot about Jason Todd, who'd beaten him to the punch in becoming the next Robin. Robin 2.0 was a frequent topic of conversation within Wayne Manor and even within Gotham city. On local news channels, Batman's new protégé was often characterized as a troublemaker. He was criticized for his brazenness or his mean cunning that contrasted starkly against the Robin that came before him. He was even a topic among Tim's parent's elite social circles, who were too proper to outright disparage the young boy but couldn't mask their grimaces or their shrewd eyes when he was named in conversation. Even while his identity was totally hidden, it was only too easy to tell that Jason wasn't… one of them.

There was a different sentiment among Gotham's lower class; the true Gothamites whom the city preferred to pretend didn't exist. Tim, who probably had far more freedom than appropriate for an eleven-year-old, curiously explored those sides of town. There, he often overheard conversations regarding Robin, opinions that weren't voiced on media channels.

While no one could deny that they were fond of the original Robin, Jason Todd won their hearts. He was the purest personification of the city, with its sharp edges and simmering rage that bubbled shallowly beneath the surface. He was the answer against the oppressive entities that smothered the common public.

Jason Todd was Gotham's son. And the people loved him for it.

But staring at the boy in front of him, Tim wasn't sure if he saw a troublemaker or a righteous anarchist. In fact, Jason Todd looked rather… human.

His white complexion was scuffed with dirt and soot smeared in some places, especially his eyes. He'd thrown off his domino mask and discarded it at his side. Bruised and dried bloody knuckles dangled over his knees, trembling.

And perhaps most surprising of all, Jason Todd was… crying. His eyes were rimmed with red splotches. The sharp angle of his jaw ground under his cheek, and his teeth were grit together in an open-mouthed clench. Snot gathered under his nose, which he wiped away angrily. Tears gathered slow and steady at the corners of his eyes before finally spilling over, marking fresh trails through the soot splotches that he had yet to wipe away.

Tim never imagined that he'd ever see a Robin cry. It felt… wrong somehow, too intimate, and Tim tried to smother the discomfort that pricked at his skin.

Jack Drake's repeated admonishment that "real men don't cry" floated from Tim's memories before he quickly trampled it down. Even at his young age, Tim knew his father was not the paragon of emotional regulation he claimed to be. It was always a startling discomfort when Tim noticed his father's biases trying to manifest as his own.

Jack Drake might have judged the boy before him, but Tim was not his father. And after silently reminding himself of that, he looked at the boy with new eyes.

To see someone, and not just anyone but Robin expressing his emotions so freely was… new to Tim. It was raw. It was powerful. It was… beautiful?

Suddenly, Jason jerked his head in Tim's direction. Tim flinched as he was pinned down by the boy's mean glare. "Hey you!" he shouted, "you think this is some field trip to the petting zoo or something? Get lost!" Jason sniffed his nose loudly and wiped again at his eyes. He turned his head so that Tim couldn't see his face.

Tim tilted forward and backward on his feet, his mind warring. He knew when he wasn't wanted, and it would be easy to turn back up those steps and go back to the common room as Aqualad had instructed… but for some reason, between facing a crowd of teenage heroes and the prickly boy in front of him, the latter seemed more appealing.

Tim found himself walking forward before he could talk himself out of it. Jason cringed at the sound of Tim's footsteps but didn't say anything as he neared the bridge.

Ah, Tim had calculated right then.

He settled across from the other boy, positioning his legs so he sat crisscrossed. His hands twiddled absently in his lap. For a while, they just sat together, not saying anything, and the quiet was only broken up between Jason's loud sniffles and quiet curses as he occasionally wiped at his eyes.

Tim studied him. He knew Jason was only roughly two years older, but christ, he seemed leagues ahead of him. He was bigger than Tim, probably bigger than what Tim would be once he reached Jason's age, and it slightly irked him that puberty had obviously treated Jason with far greater kindness than what it had shown Tim so far. His muscles were filled out in ways only fully grown bodies could achieve.

He was handsome too, which Tim observed in a purely objective way.

Tim was no stranger to the good looks department; he knew that. But underneath all the dirt and grime, Tim could tell that Jason was attractive in an effortless and hardened way, a Gotham way, and Tim envied him for that deeply.

Up close, Tim could see that Jason's eyes were a steely gray that resembled the stone used in the city's high rises. Jason's hair was also an inky black, much like Tim's own, but far messier. Unlike Tim's styled cut, Jason's hair fell in loose curls that framed his face, clumped together in some parts from dried sweat.

"Think you can manage to keep your eyes to yourself? Your stares wiggin me out." Jason snapped, the total weight of those cool eyes now directed wholly on Tim.

Tim didn't flinch, and he didn't avert his eyes either. He did shrug, though, which seemed to wring out a new creative curse from Jason's mouth.

"You're a piece of work, ya know that?" Jason ran his hands through his hair. "You some newbie on tour or something?"

"Something like that," Tim answered, speaking aloud for the first time since coming to Mount Justice. He didn't elaborate further; the echoes of Batman and Aqualad's conversation murmured warning in the back of his mind. For some reason, he didn't think Jason would take too kindly to the news that Tim was here at Batman's behest.

Tim felt Jason's appraisal as the older boy looked him up and down in a way that set Tim's nerves on edge. He wasn't sure why the sudden desire to be considered worthy suddenly felt so all-encompassing. He straightened his back in an effort to appear taller.

"And what," Jason continued, "You'd rather hang down here than be up with the rest of them?" He nodded his head upward, clearly referring to the other teenagers who were all decompressing from the mission together.

Tim just shrugged again, his words quiet, "It's lonely when I cry alone." He said the 'I' strategically as if directly referring to the other boy's tears would maybe spook him.

Whatever Jason had been about to say died before being spoken aloud. He quickly turned his head to the side, resting his temple on a closed fist. The rims of his eyes bloomed a fresh pink. "You're a freak, ya know that?" He mumbled, but the insult carried no bite.

Tim just smiled briefly, eliciting a groan from the other boy, who shook his head on his fist in exasperation. Tim thought he maybe hallucinated the upward quirk at the corner of Jason's lip, a ghost of an answering smile suddenly there and gone again.

Batman would undoubtedly be looking for him, but Tim made no effort to move, and neither did Jason. Together they sat in each other's quiet company, only shifting when Jason's runny nose finally lessened, and the red around his eyes faded over time. Finally, Jason stood and surprisingly outstretched his hand to Tim in an offering.

"You gotta name?" he asked.

Tim took Jason's hand.

"It's Tim," he answered. "Tim Drake."


A/N: Hello hello my little phantoms, and welcome to Part 2 "The Hood." Below I have shared a synopsis and I sincerely hope you enjoy! Send me your thoughts, I'd love to hear them!

Tim's disastrous mission with the league of shadows has followed him back to Gotham city. An unknown arms dealer is making an explosive debut within his hometown and it's up to Tim and his allies to put a stop to it. But all of this is made so much harder when Jason Todd, who has his own reasons for returning to the Gotham, enlists Tim's help for a common goal.. because for some reason, Tim's aware of Jason now, and parsing out what that means might just be his greatest challenge yet.

Tim's disastrous mission with the league of shadows has followed him back to Gotham city. An unknown arms dealer is making an explosive debut within his hometown and it's up to Tim and his allies to put a stop to it. But all of this is made so much harder when Jason Todd, who has his own reasons for returning to the Gotham, enlists Tim's help for a common goal.. because for some reason, Tim's aware of Jason now, and parsing out what that means might just be his greatest challenge yet.