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The BAU team was on their way to their latest case, they had just finished their inflight case discussion. Everyone got comfy for the remainder of the flight. Reid walked into to washroom. And walked right out.
“Umm guys?” He said nervously. “There is someone in there.”
“What?”
“Who?”
“I think it’s that young CEO, Tim Drake-Wayne?” Reid said uncertainly. He was sure about who it was, eidetic memory and all, but he couldn’t think of a possible reason for him to be asleep in their plane’s bathroom sink.
“I got this guys, don’t worry!” Special Agent Richard Grayson said cheerfully. He was relatively new to the team, and pretty quiet about personal things. As a result, they didn’t know much about him, just that he has a complicated family, and is from Gotham. At first his Gotham origins were of great interest to everyone in the FBI, no one had left that city and joined the FBI for at least two decades, and no one would talk about what happened to the that last person. It took some time for the interest to die down, but eventually people started to realize he was just another person. Sure he was often hugged by shadows, and he was unnaturally pale, but as time went on, people got use to the odd shadows, and he started to get a tan.
His new team was still trying to get use to him. Since he naturally spent more time with them than other agents, he sometimes let disturbing things slip. Like that time he mentioned a case reminded him of his sixth, no seventh kidnapping, or that time he saw a mutilated body and casually remarked it looked a lot like one of the bodies he found when he was 12 years old.
He also had some less disturbing quirks, like the fact he tried to get people to call him Dick. They were able to convince him to let them call him Grayson or Gray since the whole team mostly used last names, but it was amusing when he tried to convince other people that he really did want to be called Dick.
He was certainly an odd person, so it wasn’t too surprising when he walked into the bathroom, saying “Timmy, oh Timmy” in a singsong voice, with an unnaturally large smile on his face.
He returned with an arm around Tim Drake-Wayne. “Everyone, I would like you met my little brother Timmy! Timmy, this is my new team!”
Timmy was clearly not awake, but he grumbled some kind of greeting and waved politely. He looked a lot different than the well groomed, shark like business man the media portrayed. He was slouched over, leaning on Gray, his hair was sporting a bed head look, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he was unnaturally pale.
Hotch cleared his throat. “What is Timmy doing on this plane?”
Timmy stole Reid’s coffee and downed it in two gulps.
“My coffee...” Reid pouted. Morgan patted him on the shoulder consolingly.
Looking more awake, Timmy smiled, “That was a good cup of coffee man! Call me Tim. I’m here to see my brother, been a while.”
“It’s good to spend time with family, but this isn’t really the right time and place. Maybe call next time. How did you even get in here?”
“I was gonna to call, but my phone got eaten by Killer Croc and I haven’t replaced it yet.” Tim completely ignored the question of how he got on the plane. To tell the truth, he wasn’t entirely sure himself, he was pretty sleep deprived.
Tim and Gray sat on the couch for a bit, conversing about mostly mundane things, but with some odd and disturbing comments mixed it which the rest of the team decided to ignore for their sanity. They also decided to ignore Tim’s existence.
Some time later Tim got up and stretched. He looked at left wrist(his watch was on his right), and announced it was time for him to go. He didn’t want to be late for a meeting. Before anyone could register what was happening, he walked over to the locked door, open it with about as much difficulty as a perfectly ordinary, unlocked door, and walked out. Before anyone could react, Gray looked up from his phone, walked over and closed the door, then sat back down.
Everyone looked at each other in shock. “You all saw what I just saw, right?” JJ asked. Heads nodded in agreement.
“Gray?” Rossi asked. “Does your brother have a parachute?”
“Huh?” He looked up from his phone. “No, I don’t think so, why do you ask?”
“He just walked out of the plane.”
“True. Don’t worry about it.”
“Is he a meta?” Prentis asked.
“Nope. Only got one meta in the family.”
“How can you be sure he’s fine?”
“Timmy funds the Justice League, they wouldn’t let him die.”
As the team pondered the possible benefits of funding a superhero team, Gray looked back at the conversation he was having on his phone:
Blue Nephew: you busy?
Uncle farm boy: not particularly, why?
Blue Nephew: pretty sure Timmy is going to jump out of a plane
Uncle farm boy: ‘sigh’ I’ll be there
Blue Nephew: thanks uncle supes, you’re the best!
Blue Nephew: let me know when you’ve got him
Uncle farm boy: I got him, and he won’t even be late for his meeting. Is he using me for speedy transport?
Blue Nephew: I know nothing