Chapter Text
Dick led the way through Gotham, cutting down an alley a few blocks from the docks. Red Robin and Black Bat followed without question, scaling up the building and sprinting. It was familiar yet different, a slanted type of Deja Vu. It was Dick, smaller, but he carried the same ease. He led them like it was second nature. Tim ignored the swooping feeling in his chest. He remembered his days in the Robin uniform. He doesn’t remember being that sure of himself. Envy burned and seared his insides. He didn’t have the same presence; even now, after years of experience, he felt less.
Dick signaled them to stop, dragging Tim out of his thoughts. “There,” he pointed to a building across the street, “I’ll go; you wait here.”
“No,” Cass demanded, startling both Tim and Dick.
“You can’t be seen.” Dick countered.
Cass folded her arms across her chest; the unspoken challenge was loud and clear. It was the same stance Dick took when playing the oldest sibling card. With a start, Tim realized Cass was technically the oldest.
Dick huffed, “The Joker isn’t going to let it slide. He will kill them and then you.” He matched her stance with crossed arms. It was a far toss from his older version's level of intimidation.
Tim took a half step back, confident Cass would handle the situation.
Cass cocked her head in response. A few moments passed then Dick sighed. “Fine,” Dick shrugged, and Tim would swear he was rolling his eyes at them from under the mask. “I’ll go first, draw in an audience like usual. You two take overhead. Knock out anyone on the roof and wait for my signal.”
Cass nodded in agreement, but Tim was reluctant. “What’s the signal?”
A smirk crept across Dick’s face, “You’ll know it when the time comes.” He didn’t wait for the others to agree; jumping off the roof, a high-pitched cackle echoed down the street, followed by the muffled sounds of yelling.
Groups of henchmen scurried around the warehouse in a controlled panic. Some put away the last of the film equipment, while others marched around in a loose patrol. There was one exception to the air of panic. From the edge of Joker’s set was a free-sitting full-fledged kitchen, including a restaurant-grade stovetop. A henchman, wearing an apron and chef hat, pulled out a cake tin from one of the ovens with a satisfied hum.
Batman, Red Hood, and the current Robin were pinned up in the background. They were wrapped in chains and suspended on hooks like prized fishing trophies. All three were still unconscious.
Robin dropped from the ceiling, twisting elegantly until the last moment to pull his grapple gun. His momentum slowed to land in a graceful roll. He finished with his arms raised, bowing to the shocked henchmen.
The Joker paused mid-pour, leaning back in his chair with a vicious sneer. “Get him.”
The henchmen were fast, but Robin was faster. Dick moved like liquid, ducking under their weapons and using their strengths against them. They were eager, swinging without caution; he set them up, hitting each other as Dick danced around them. With a few men left, Dick dropped a smoke bomb; there were a few seconds of yells of surprise followed by silence. The smoke cleared, revealing Dick perched on a pile of bodies. He backflipped, folding into a deep bow upon landing, facing the tea party like a jester to the king.
Harley jumped up, clapping wildly. The Joker raised a hand for silence, pulling a walkie-talkie from under the table. “Encore,” He said.
The words were followed by the roar of an engine. A truck -a standard bad guy - crashed through the back garage door. The driver, mouth open in a war cry, shifted to horror as they crashed into the first Robin. The body rolled up the windshield with a sickening thud. Two henchmen poured from the car, the one from the passenger seat chanting, “Oh god.” The driver hunched over, throwing up.
The room went silent - aside from the panicking henchmen. Harley was frozen mid-clap. The Joker had a slow-growing frown.
From above, Tim audibly gasped, his heart clenching in his chest. Cass gripped his arm painfully, undoubtedly bruising. Tim tried to pull himself free, the whirlwind of dread, regret, and guilt flushing his face and clouding his vision.
"Plan," Cass whispered, urgent and pleading. Her frown was uncertain, sending doubt through Tim. He shook his head, trying to clear away the vision below.
"Plan," she said again. Cass shook him, physically pulling him to the window.
The body started to dissolve like sand. The particles sparkled and faded to nothing. The vomiting henchman turned tail and sprinted out of the room. The chanting henchman fainted.
"How?" Tim whispered, marveling at the technology. His mind rewound through the fight. The smoke, he realized, was the switch. The double was a modified version of the training simulation tech.
A clapping interrupted the scene, startling a violent reaction from Harley and the Joker. Dick batted the butter knife away, smirking from his seat at the tea table. There was another pause; then, the two rogues broke out into applause. Dick smirked, offering a slight bow without leaving his seat.
“That is what I’m talking about!” The Joker cheered. He grabbed a spoon from the table and whipped around to check it at Batman, “you taking notes, Batsy?”. It bounced off the unconscious man’s chest and to the floor with a clang. Joker didn’t seem to care, shoving his chair away, sending it crashing to the floor, and starting to pace. “The theatrics,” the Joker preened, “The trickery! The trauma!” he kissed his fingers in perfection.
Robin ignored the rant, helping himself to a finger sandwich and shooting Harley a bright smile. “Hi’ya Harley.” He chirped.
The woman offered a smile back, “Evenin’ Boy Wonder.”
“Come,” Joker interrupted, “Sit. Sit.” He jumped back to his seat and clapped his hands twice in quick succession. He waited, slightly crouched for someone to push in his chair. He snarled, glaring around the room. “Where are -” The Joker cut himself off when his eyes landed on the pile of his unconscious henchmen. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Good help is so hard to find.” He sighed, fixing his chair. “Of course you know that,” He continued to Robin. “You’re imposters,” he waved a hand towards Red Hood and Robin on the wall, “have really dropped the ball. Disappointing, all of them.”
Dick hummed non-committal.
The Joker either didn't notice or didn't care. “You give them one job and any equipment they may need, and they still aren’t able to kill a single person. I know better; I should have just gone with the professional the first time. You know how it is,” He grabbed a scone from the selection, pausing long enough to realize his butter knife was now on Robin’s side of the table and instead dumping an entire jar of red jelly on the top with a shake.” try to cut costs and now I’ll pay more than double for someone to do it right.”
“It’s taking away from our party budget,” Harley advised Robin with a grim frown.
The Joker nodded in agreement, waving his pastry around. Globs of jelly went flying, speckling everything that looked more like blood than something edible.“Don’t even get me started,” he moaned, jumping into his explanation without prompting. “We’ve had to reschedule. It was going to be a surprise, with fireworks and games. Ozzy was going to host at the Iceberg Lounge. But now he’s all pissy because we canceled in the 24-hour window.”
Tim and Cass exchanged looks from above, her hand still holding his arm. Tim nodded to the window but stilled when Cass shook her head. Dick was going to give them a signal; they had to trust him.
“There were going to be snacks. I was going to make your favorite pie, and Crain even agreed to make his famous dip.” The Joker huffed, throwing his half-eaten scone at the table and spraying the others with crumbs and jelly.
“We’ll reschedule, puddin’.” Harley offered, patting the man on the arm with a too-bright smile.
“Of course, of course.” Joker waved her away. “We’re not here to listen to me,” He turned his full attention to Dick, “Tell me, how are you doin’ kiddo? Talk to your Uncle J.”
“I’m a kid. Again. Apparently.” Dick deadpanned.
"You're welcome," Joker offered with a toothy smile. "Tea?" He waved a hand at the lukewarm tea cups.
It was a test. They all knew it, even without the daring smile.
Dick didn’t even hesitate, leaning over to take Joker's cup. He paused, adding a few sugar cubes, and took a sip.
The Joker’s smile spread, breaking off into an echoing laugh. “Miles above the others and still so much to learn.” He grabbed the cup in front of Harley and drained it in one gulp. There was a tense moment of silence. The triumph disappeared from his face; the smile faded to something closer to satisfaction and approval. “Well, play-”
Harley snatched the butter dish out just seconds before Joker hit the deck. She did nothing for the fork stuck in the man’s face, dangerously close to his eye. Dick didn’t bat an eye, instead sipping his tea with his pinky out as taught by Alfred.
“You can come out now,” Dick yelled, trading Harley the butter for a plate of miniature cakes.
Cass and Tim dropped from the ceiling, the rest of the bats shuffling from their places on the wall.
“How’s all this-” Harley waved a finger at the other heroes, “going?” She asked Dick with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s so bad.” Dick groaned, ignoring the cries of indignation from the peanut gallery. “I'm missing years - a decade- of my life. Batman is trying to be all secretive.”
“Because that always works,” Harley snorted.
“Right!” Dick cried in agreement, “And I don’t even know the others. They keep looking at me like they expect something but still seem surprised when I do anything. There’s so much baggage, invisible baggage, ghost baggage.”
A vine slithered across the floor during his rant, slipping through the shadows. It ran up his chair until perched over his head. Red Hood cried out too late; branches crossed his path. The vine above Dick patted him on the head in a ‘there-there’ type of motion. Dick raised his hand, his fingers running along the plant before it slid back down and away.
Dick paused mid-rant, cocking an eyebrow at the currently older hero, then back to Harley. “See what I mean,” he waved a hand at the others. “It’s like they think I would be dumb enough to ignore my surroundings.”
“Hey, you little shi-” Jason scowled from under his helmet, pulling a bat-a-rang from his belt to chop at the blockade. Robin pulled his sword, moving to help.
“Ivy has been there for like five minutes.” Dick continued with a pointed look.
“Hello, petal,” the woman in question called, stalking into view while twiddling her fingers in a wave. She sat on the arm of Harley’s chair. The other woman wrapped an arm around her waist with a sweet smile.
Dicks eyes darted between breaking out in a huge smile. "I knew it." He stated.
Ivy rolled her eyes while Harley giggled.
"This is everything I could find," Ivy said, pulling a flash drive from the cleavage of her suit.
Dick caught it, then dropped it on the table with a bright blush creeping down his neck.
Harley cooed at him, reaching to pinch his cheeks, only to be slapped away. “You are so cute. Oh, I-”
Ivy placed a hand over Harley’s mouth, pulling back when the blond licked her hand with a wink. Ivy continued, "I might be able to do more if I had a blood sample-"
A few yells of decline interrupted from the back wall. Ivy huffed in response.
“Do you see what I am dealing with?” Dick demanded, at the two women, ignoring the others.
Harley laughed; at least Ivy had the decency to hide her smile behind her hand.
“I’m going to have to go through puberty again,” Dick stressed, “I don’t remember the first time, but I doubt I want to do it again.”
A crash interrupted him; a figure in purple with blond hair dropped from the skylight, landing in a ready stance.
“Like, who the Hell is this?” Dick demanded, throwing his hands up in defeat. He slumped across the table, pushing plates over the edge with little care.
Steph hesitated, glancing between the tea table and the assembled Bat Family.
“Language,” Harley scolded playfully, flicking Dick's ear.
Dick perked up, lifting his head just enough to shoot the woman an unimpressed look. It drew a snort from Ivy.
Batman moved forward before anyone else could. “Robin,” he growled in warning.
Dick shot up again, rim-rod straight and alert. He scowled at the other hero.
Ivy sighed, "That’s our queue. You know how to contact us." She said, dragging Harley up by the hand. "Stop by if you need to get away from them."
"We'll make a cake and watch heist movies," Harley cried, clapping excitedly. "We'll call in Selina and point out all the flaws." Harley paused long enough to place a bright red kiss on Dicks cheek and kick the Joker’s chair to send him crashing to the floor. "You'll take out the trash, won't you kid?" She asked.
Dick hummed in agreement, still staring down Bruce in a mix of the battle of wills and silent conversation.
The bats watched the women flee out a back door in a rain of colored smoke—the doorway sealed in a crisscross of vines.
“Robin,” Bruce warned, putting the attention back on the first Robin.
"Where the hell did you get a flower crown?" Jason demanded.
Dick shrugged with a smirk that gave everything away. A vine retreated through the shadows, and down the drain, it came through.