Patchwork Siblings, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Chapter 10 - In the Bats' Lair [rough draft]
That night, Batman and Nightwing patrol separately. "So, Charlie," Tim says, holding up his phone. "We can only pick one vigilante to follow tonight, either Batman or Nightwing. Not both. Which one do you want to stalk?"
Charlie throws himself into a fancy flip, which Tim takes as an answer.
Nightwing is still being boring, clearly hunting for someone or something rather than gliding along on his usual reactionary patrol. When he stops at one point to have a low conversation with seemingly no one, Tim finally finds out why.
"I know, Robin," Nightwing says soothingly into his comm. "But we gotta keep you safe, baby bird, okay? I promise we won't hurt your meta friend if he doesn't mean any harm, but we gotta at least check!" He listens to the response, then smiles. "I know. That's okay; I love you anyway, Robin. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
About half an hour later, Nightwing foils a pawn shop robbery and then gets involved in a high-speed chase. Charlie has trouble keeping up because Tim slows him down, but he also refuses to abandon Tim, carrying him along and hunkering down on top of a moving semi-trailer so that Tim can try to grab a few shots.
The wind blows in Tim's hair and the air is filled with the sound of police sirens, honking car horns, and gunfire and cursing from the criminals up ahead. Tim should be at least a little bit worried, but with Charlie crouching over him, shielding him and holding him steady, he feels like nothing dangerous can touch him. Speeding along on top of a semi in the thick of Gotham City at night, chasing after a Bat, Tim feels incredibly alive.
Once the criminals have been apprehended and Nightwing is no longer needed, he swings away to a quiet rooftop to take a breather. Charlie, pausing on a nearby rooftop, lets Tim down from his back and kisses the top of his head. "You will be safe while I go to investigate."
"Investigate what?" Tim wonders, but Charlie's already gone.
The meta alights on the roof where Nightwing is resting. As the vigilante leaps to his feet, Tim scrambles for his camera.
The two Dick Graysons stare at each other for a moment. "You're him, aren't you," Nightwing finally ventures. "The man who's been taking Jason Todd and Timothy Drake into the city."
"Hi, Dick!" Charlie says excitedly. "You're big now!"
"Wh-?"
Before Nightwing can voice his confusion, Charlie throws himself across the roof in a spectacular gymnastics routine. He finishes with a flourish, then looks at Nightwing expectantly.
Nightwing stares. Then he stretches a bit in an almost challenging way and launches into his own series of flips and tumbles.
The impromptu contest quickly escalates, with each Dick laughingly trying to outdo the other. Nightwing soon takes to the sky, grappling his way through the nearby rooftops and streetlights. Charlie has no line, but he uses his enhanced strength to fly as well, leaping from one target to another and gracefully spinning his body in between. He carefully circles back around, leading Nightwing after him, so as not to stray too far from his still-hidden boy. Tim, snapping photo after photo, is loving this.
At last, Nightwing collapses into a sprawl, panting. "All right, all right, you win," he laughs. "You're cheating, though; your meta stamina is better than mine."
Charlie peers at him for a minute. "It's over?"
"It's over," Nightwing agrees.
"Okay. I will go back to my Tim," Charlie says. "Thank you for the fun."
"Hey, wait-"
But Charlie is gone. Tim loses sight of him for several minutes, but then the sound of courteously whisper-faint scuffles alerts him. He hurries to the opposite end of the roof and looks over to see Charlie climbing up to him. "You ready to switch over to stalking Batman now?"
"Yes," Charlie says, pulling off his mask.
"I got some really great pictures of you guys. It's amazing to see you two together."
Charlie smiles.
"How can you be the same as Nightwing, but different at the same time?"
"Nightwing is Dick from Before," Charlie says cryptically. "Charlie is Dick from After. I'm glad he's still alive." After having explained exactly nothing, he scoops up Tim and carries him away.
o.o.o
Nightwing has finally tracked down his meta lookalike who's been creeping on Bristol children (or at least, he assumes so; the man stayed masked the whole time, but everything about him fits the description). Nightwing absolutely does not know what to make of the guy.
He's very skilled, that's certain, in a way that's comparable to Nightwing himself. Their little acrobatics contest was really fun but so random. Nightwing hoped to be able to fish for some information after building rapport, but the mystery lookalike ran off before he got the chance to start.
Oh well. Sometimes these things take a while; maybe he'll have better luck next time.
Nightwing is returning home, close to the cave entrance in the comparative wilderness of the vast Wayne Estate, when he senses that he's being watched. He spins the bike around into a stop, facing the direction he was coming from.
There is someone watching him, perched in a tree, not even trying to hide. His lookalike. "Hi," Nightwing says, his heart rate picking up a little. The stranger is unnervingly close to the Batcave's entrance.
The figure perks up. "Hi!" He gracefully swings down from the tree and approaches in a way that's both friendly and cautious.
"Did you follow me?" Nightwing asks.
"No. Tim knew where you'd be."
Nightwing stiffens. "Tim...Drake?"
"Yes."
"He- He knows where...my primary Gotham base is...?"
"Tim is very smart."
This is not good. "Why were you waiting for me?"
"Tim said I'm permitted to talk to you."
Nightwing blinks. "Is Tim your...boss?" The idea of a twelve-year-old ordering around a grown man is bizarre, but stranger things have happened in this crazy world.
"Tim is my master. He says he isn't, but he is. Charlie loves Tim."
This is getting weirder and weirder. "Who's Charlie?"
"Me!" the lookalike declares, pointing eagerly at himself. "I'm Charlie! Because you are Dick Before, and I am Dick After, and it felt better to have a different name because Charlie is not Dick or Talon anymore."
...Okay. Okaaaay. So the lookalike probably really is a version of Dick Grayson, and sometimes talks about himself in the third person. Nightwing is more weirded out by that than by anything else about Charlie. "Are you a clone? Or from an alternate universe?"
Charlie turns to call into the darkness, "Am I a clone or from an alternate universe?"
There's a muffled, surprisingly high-voiced exclamation. Charlie trots off into the darkness of the woods and soon comes back cradling Tim Drake in his arms. Tim stops squirming and freezes in an awkward position, looking like a cat that's been caught misbehaving. "This is my Tim that I love," Charlie announces, proudly presenting his armful of teenager.
"Hi," Nightwing says dryly.
"Hi," Tim responds with a weak wave.
"I think you have some explaining to do, Timothy Drake."
"I know," Tim mumbles.
o.o.o
As soon as they enter the cave, Charlie makes a squealing sound and runs to put his arms around Jason. Jason tries to push him away at first, but then pauses. Charlie nuzzles into Jason's hair as Jason slowly analyzes the situation. Jason finally puts his hand on Charlie's face and pushes. "Big T. 'Bout time."
"I love you, Jason!" Charlie declares, not seeming bothered by the nickname.
The hand on Charlie's face pats once. Then Jason drifts purposefully over to Tim and bumps into him. Tim shyly hugs him. Nightwing tries to get a hug in, too, but Jason squirms away. "Hey! Where's my hug?"
"No T," Jason informs him irritably. Then his face smooths out and he amiably bumps into Tim again.
"Meanie," Nightwing pouts, then shakes it off and collects various biological samples from a cooperative Charlie before striding over to the Batcomputer. "I'll call Batman home so you don't have to explain things more than once."
As they wait, Tim shyly accepts a hot drink from Mr. Pennyworth, who is very nice. He watches Charlie delightedly clamber around in the rigging that's been installed in the cave ceiling, often making poses directly above Jason, who wanders below.
"Hey, Jason," Tim tries at one point, "our friend actually changed his name. He's not Talon anymore; his name is Charlie now." He points up into the rigging.
After a long pause, Jason squints up at a curiously-watching Charlie. "Big...T."
"No, not T anymore." Tim points again. "Charlie. His name is Charlie."
Jason looks vague and frustrated at the same time. "Dick...not Dick T...Shar..." He pauses. "Three?"
"No - no, Jason, there's just two. Dick is one, and Charlie is two. Charlie used to be Talon, but he's not Talon anymore, he's Charlie now."
Jason makes an odd, angry spitting sound without actually spitting. "I want...T...!"
Charlie drops down beside them. "Jason!"
"Big T," Jason mumbles, glowering.
"Yes," Charlie agrees. "I'm Big T. And Charlie."
Jason relaxes and leans into him. Charlie puts his arms around him and squeezes, and Jason doesn't pull away.
"It doesn't bother you that he still calls you T?" Tim wants to make sure.
"Talon is bad," Charlie says. "Dick is gone. I am Charlie now. But I am Big T for Jason. Big T is good, too. Big T is free, and loves Jason, and doesn't kill people. Big T is not Talon."
"Oh," Tim says. He's not quite sure he understands, but Charlie seems to be okay with it, and that's the important part. "Okay. As long as you're fine with it."
"Yes, Tim."
After a moment where Charlie and Jason just stand there cuddling for a while and Tim feels awkward and bored, it occurs to him that he has something that Charlie might like to see. He taps at his phone for a minute, then says, "Hey, Charlie, I want to show you something."
Charlie shuffles over to him while still hugging Jason.
"Does this look familiar to you?" Tim asks, showing him a digital copy of one of his most treasured photos.
Charlie gasps almost soundlessly. "Dickie," he murmurs, fingertips reaching out to hover just over the image of himself as a boy. "Robin." The fingertips shift, still not quite touching. "Papa...Mama..."
"Yeah," Tim says softly. "This picture was taken when my parents took me to the circus a long time ago. The Flying Graysons were kind enough to pose for us."
Charlie tilts his head. "Dickie is holding a very small child."
"That's me," Tim mutters, blushing a bit in embarrassment. "When I was little. This photo is from a long time ago."
It takes Charlie a second. Then his eyes widen. "Baby Tim-Owl?!"
"I'm not an Owl!" Tim protests. "Not now and definitely not then! And I wasn't a baby, come on; I could walk by then."
Charlie looks no less delighted as he stares at Tim's toddler-self in the photo. Jason squirms out of the hug and wanders off. Charlie, forgetting to ask for permission, takes the phone with him back up into the rigging, and now Tim has nothing to do to pass the time. He starts taking a closer look at all the interesting things in the Batcave, warily keeping an eye on Nightwing as he does. Nightwing seems to be casually keeping an eye on him as well, but doesn't seem bothered by his snooping.
At last, the roar of the Batmobile echoes in the distance. Charlie hisses, drops down, collects his two boys, and squirrels them out of sight behind a cabinet.
"It's all right, Charlie, that's just my dad coming," Nightwing explains.
"Loud!" Charlie protests.
The car comes to a stop and Batman climbs out of it. He doesn't see any intruders, but he knows they're around somewhere. "Nightwing, why did you bring them here?" he growls.
"They were practically on our doorstep already, Batman, and they clearly know who we are. Thought it was better to invite them in than to make them break in."
"Where are they?"
"Charlie," Nightwing calls, "can you bring Tim out here, please?"
The process takes a while. Charlie keeps hiding his boys from Batman; when Tim insists on getting the ordeal over with and emerging from behind the cabinet, Charlie attempts to abscond with him into the rigging. Nightwing follows them up and chases them around for a bit. Charlie reluctantly comes down, deposits Tim in the big chair by the computer, stashes Jason under the console with a stack of books to persuade him to stay put, then perches like a bird of prey on the back of Tim's chair, glaring at Batman.
"Did you run a DNA test already?" Batman asks, unable to tear his eyes away from the meta. Charlie is not wearing his Talon mask, baring the discolored version of Dick Grayson's face.
"Yeah," Nightwing says, pointing at the test results on the screen. "He's me, plus some fun extra stuff the computer couldn't identify."
"Before you ask," Tim says, "I don't know where he came from or why he looks like Mr. Grayson."
"Please call me Dick," Nightwing says.
"Um, Dick. It's possible the, uh, Court of Owls were running some kind of twisted experiments. All I know is that he was trained to be an assassin against his will, he used to work for a cult that claims to run the city from the shadows, and he imprinted on me because he thought I was one of his bosses. I still have no idea why."
The Bats interrogate, managing to suss out a few more details from Tim. Charlie is highly uncooperative until Nightwing starts bribing him with candy, at which point Charlie becomes a lot more talkative but still doesn't make much sense.
"Buddy," Nightwing says in exasperation, "I would remember if I'd ever been split into two bodies. I might be your source material if you're a clone, or a version of you if there's time travel or alternate universes involved, but I'm not the 'Dick from before.' "
"Dickie was little and now he's big," Charlie remarks through a mouthful of Starburst.
Batman runs some basic tests, which Charlie has little objection to. As long as people don't bother the kids he's claimed, he doesn't seem to feel very threatened when he's the target of attention.
"Isn't that uncomfortable, Charlie?" Tim asks in concern when Batman shines a light right into Charlie's sensitive eyes.
"Yes, Tim," Charlie answers readily, even as he keeps his eyes open and unblinking.
Batman pauses. "Is the light too bright for you?"
"It won't kill me," Charlie assures him.
"His eyes are sensitive," Tim says. "He needs sunglasses during the day and even then, he can't handle being out in the sun for very long."
"...Hn," Batman grunts, and puts the light away.
Eventually, Tim and Charlie are allowed to go home. Charlie tries to pick up a sleeping Jason to take with them, but Batman firmly objects.
"Charlie, I told you," Tim says, "Jason belongs here with Mr. Wayne and Mr. Pennyworth and Dick. You have to leave him here, okay? We can visit him later."
"I love Jason," Charlie mourns, kissing him on the temple. Jason grumbles and goes limp in his arms like a cat that really doesn't want to be picked up.
"If you let go of Jason right now, I'll pet your hair for an extra five minutes when we get home," Tim coaxes.
Charlie makes a sad face, but finally releases Jason. He latches onto Tim instead and gets right into Batman's face. "Jason belongs to you but I belong to Tim," he announces. "Tim does not belong to you."
"...Take good care of Tim," Batman says.
Charlie blinks in surprise at the wording, then looks at Tim. "It's Charlie's job to take care of Tim!"
"Nope," Tim says quickly. He's not about to have a sheltered, freshly un-brainwashed ex-assassin calling the shots about what or when he eats or requiring him to be escorted wherever he goes or setting curfews for him. Tim already has parents, and Charlie is definitely not one of them. "No no no. We are...partners. Okay, Charlie? Tim and Charlie are partners."
"Partners. Partners...take care of each other." He looks to see what Tim makes of this.
"Yeah...yeah, I guess that's right," Tim agrees cautiously.
TBC
