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Tim had a treehouse. His dad had built it for him the summer he turned six, after he had read about the benefits of having one in a parenting magazine. He only subscribed to that magazine for three months before he lost interest. Tim had ‘helped’ him build it, which mainly involved sitting on a quilt on the grass reading instructions from the webpage, and jumping up to bring his father different tools.
It had been a good summer, and when his parents left for a dig that August, Tim still had his treehouse. It was built about 100 meters from the house, and almost hidden by the trees around it. It consisted of a ladder to get up, a small cabin, and a little deck around it. Tim brought old blankets out there, and hung up some of his photos. His nanny took him to a thrift store to find decorations (not that they’d ever tell Janet he had stepped foot in a thrift store), and he returned with a little solar powered lamp, a bat-shaped carpet, and two beanbag chairs. When Tim had tried to carry a second chair to the counter after his nanny picked up the first, she had given him a little side eye. They both knew he didn’t have any friends to hang out with him (the consequence of being six in a class of second graders) but Tim told her it was for his dad. Which was true.
But Tim’s dad had lost interest in the treehouse as soon as he was done, which was pretty common for his various projects. Janet said that was also his parenting style, but Tim didn’t know what that meant. As soon as Jack had returned home, Tim invited him to come up, and he waved him off, disinterested.
“Seriously Jack? Your son would like to spend time with you-”
“I’m busy , Janet-”
“What, so you’re not in the mood to be a father again? You only like him when it suits you-”
Tim had left the room after that. He hated it when people argued. And he had gone up to his treehouse. It really was great there. A little cramped, yeah, but cozy. Sometimes he brought his ipad to play music too, which made it even better.
As time moved on, Tim continued to update it: new pictures of the Bats (ones that he had taken), a stack of books, a ‘do not enter’ sign on his door. He’d seen a kid in a TV show put that on their tree house and thought it was a cool idea. Plus, then he could pretend there was no one in there because he didn’t want there to be.
So it may have been a fleeting interest for Jack, but for Tim, it was a big part of his life. He went up there to hide from his nanny, to hang out when he was bored, to ignore arguments, to get out of going to galas, and just whenever he felt like. It was his treehouse. Especially because no one else had ever been inside.
So obviously he had run there when he woke up in an unfamiliar room with a bunch of strangers staring at him.
Well- they weren’t exactly strangers . They were the Wayne family. The Bats. But not really? They looked older. Mr. Wayne had more lines on his face, Dick had longer hair- and Jason looked completely different! It barely even looked like him. He was super tall and had lots of muscles and white in his hair and a ton of scars. Tim had no idea how that could’ve possibly happened, because he had just seen Jason at school and he had looked normal!
So Tim panicked and jumped up. He recognized partway through his dash that he was in Wayne manor, and had adjusted course accordingly. He had only ever been in the areas available for galas, but he had the blueprints hidden in his room (don’t ask him how he got those), so he knew where the entrance was. He ducked under outstretched arms, and dodged between legs, and honestly it was a little embarrassing for the Bats. Sure, Tim practiced agility and stuff, but Batman seriously couldn’t catch a nine year old? Yikes.
Anyway, he had made it out the front door, and then made a mad dash not towards the road but towards the side of the property; when he reached that, he jumped the fence easily, and then he was in the woods that were on the outskirts of the Drake property. He could hear shouts behind him, but he was small enough that he could dodge between the trees and lose them in the half-mile it took to get to his treehouse.
He suspected the Waynes would probably knock on his front door to look for him first- that was easier and less creepy than chasing a kid into his backyard. Which raised the question- why were they chasing him? And why the hell had Tim woken up in their house. And why were they older?
Tim heaved himself up the ladder and onto the deck. He would think about all these questions when he was safely inside, he assured himself. But when he ducked through the little door, he froze. His treehouse looked different. Tim stared around, and began to rapidly clench and unclench his fists.
The books weren’t the ones he had left in here. The bat pictures were different, and there were photos of an older boy who looked familiar with the Waynes. There was a little cabinet/bedside table type thing that his lamp now stood on. And there was dust on the floor, as if no one had been there in a while. Which didn’t make sense because Tim was always in here. The last time was-
Tim felt a little faint, so he threw himself into his beanbag chair. The last time was when? Tim didn’t… he didn’t know. There was something wrong with his memory. Like he could remember seeing Jason at school a little bit ago, but he didn’t know when . He had no idea what day of the week it was, or what he had been doing all day. He couldn’t remember exactly how long it had been since he had seen his parents, or his nanny. There was just this… blankness, and Tim couldn’t track exactly how far back it went.
It was getting hard to breathe, and Tim could hear himself wheezing a bit. Okay, okay. He needed to pause, to get himself under control. To come at this like a detective. He forced air into his lungs, clenched and unclenched his fists, and tried to pick out five things he could see.
He didn’t know how long it was before he was calm enough to think again. His hands were still moving anxiously, but there was nothing he could do about that. Okay, first step: try and figure out ‘when’ he was. He looked down at his clothes. He was wearing a too-big Gotham University sweatshirt that pooled at his wrists. He also had pajama shorts, and a quick glance confirmed that the waistband was triple-knotted, and they were still a bit too big. All he had on his feet were socks, which he now noticed were filthy from running. His feet kinda hurt too.
But he didn’t recognize these clothes- they obviously weren’t his. Could he remember what he had eaten that day? No, not at all. He took another deep breath. Maybe- maybe he’d gotten hurt. In gym class or something, maybe he’d hit his head and gotten a concussion. If his parents were out of the country, the nurse wouldn’t have been able to call them, and maybe his nanny was indisposed for some reason and asked Bruce to get him. They were neighbors after all. And that was maybe a neighborly thing to do.
So that would make sense. If Tim had a concussion, no wonder he couldn’t remember certain stuff! The only problem with that was that Tim’s head didn’t hurt. Well maybe they had given him pain medication or something, Tim reasoned. Okay. He could work with that. Except– why did the Waynes look so weird? Jason was the most dramatic example, but Dick and Bruce were clearly older too. Actually, Tim hadn’t seen those two in a while, so maybe they just looked different. But that still didn’t explain Jason.
Jason should be thirteen right now, but the man he had seen was. Well. A man. Maybe eighteen, nineteen? Definitely not the kid Tim knew. Which a concussion could not explain. Could it be a rogue doing a poor impression of the Waynes? But then what would they want with Tim? Tim buried his head in his hands and let out a groan of frustration, because this didn’t make sense !
Apparently, he was louder than he had meant to be, because a moment later-
“Tim?” He lifted his head, then froze. That was… that was totally Mr. Wayne’s voice. Beneath his treehouse. Crap.
Abruptly, every lesson Janet ever taught him came rushing back through his head.
“It’s very important how you present yourself in society-”
“If you’re having an issue, you need to learn to deal with it discreetly-”
“The Drake name needs to be upheld-”
“Mr. Wayne is a very important man-”
Tim almost screamed. He absolutely could not let Bruce Wayne see him like this- no matter Tim’s working concussion theory. He needed to stay out of the Wayne’s hair, to not bother them, especially not when he was still so anxious and confused and fidgety-
Tim breathed in to prepare to politely dismiss the man, but what came out instead was: “Don’t come up!”
There was a brief silence as Tim rethought every choice he had ever made, and then Mr. Wayne spoke again.
“Tim, it’s alright. Can I please come talk to you?” Tim shook his head even though he knew Mr. Wayne couldn’t see him. He tried to think of how to respond more politely, but before he could, there was another voice.
“Let me try, B,” That was quiet, but then louder, “Timmy, can I come up? It’s Jason. From school?” And that was Jason, Tim could hear the kid he knew in the man’s voice.
He thought for a second, then decided that it was okay to see Jason maybe, even if he was a rogue. If Tim talked to him, maybe he could get a better idea of what their evil plan was. Also, if it really was Jason, he wasn’t a super important adult; he was a kid like Tim. They had even talked at school a couple times! And at galas! Even if… even if Jason looked weird and old now. And maybe evil. Tim clenched his hands in the front of his sweatshirt.
“Yeah, you can come up,” He responded. He worried for a second it was too quiet, but then he heard the sound of the man climbing the ladder. Tim continued to breathe deeply, staring at the door as he heard Jason climb onto the platform. There was a pause, and then a gentle knock on the door.
“Come in,” Tim said quietly. He had imagined that a few times. Having a friend to knock on the door and he could let them in. He never thought it’d be like this- this weird nightmare scene he was living in.
The door swung open slowly, and it was almost comical to see the large man hunched outside the door. He and Tim looked at each other for a moment, and then he smiled and crouched a little to get through the door. He shut the door behind him, then looked questioningly at the other beanbag. Tim’s breath caught for a moment before he nodded.
Jason collapsed into the chair and groaned dramatically. “I’m gonna be sore from chasing you around, kid,” Tim was too busy staring at the other person finally sitting in his second beanbag to say anything. After a moment, Jason glanced around. “This is a cool spot you got here,” He noted. Tim sat up a bit at that.
“You think?” He asked. Jason smiled a bit, and nodded. Tim felt something inside him ease a bit. Why would a rogue compliment his treehouse?
“Yeah, why’d you never mention it to me? I would’ve wanted to hang with you here,” Tim’s mouth opened in surprise. Jason would want to hang out with him? That would be so cool. Jason was so cool. The man was still looking around at the interior, and he reached over to open the top drawer of the little cabinet.
He opened his mouth, and then laughed quietly. There was a strong smell coming from the drawer, and Tim could kind of see what looked like a lighter and a plastic bag of something green before Jason closed it again. “That’s why you didn’t mention it,” He muttered quietly. Then he looked back at Tim, and before he could ask him what that meant, Jason’s face dipped into something more serious. He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed.
“What do you remember, bud?” He asked quietly. Tim’s mouth turned down. He was sure he had more questions than Jason, since the other kid- man- clearly had a better picture of what had happened than Tim. He answered anyway, shrugging.
“I don’t… I don’t know what happened, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t remember getting up for school this morning, or if it even was a school day. I don’t remember going to your house, and also-” He cut himself off, glancing at Jason. His brow was furrowed and he nodded at Tim to continue. “I don’t know why you look like that,” He gestured helplessly. Jason looked down at his hands, seemingly debating what to say.
“Okay,” He responded slowly. “That’s kind of what we were scared of.” Another pause while Jason thought. Tim shifted, clenching his hands in his sweatshirt again.
“What’s going on, Jason?” He asked quietly, trying not to let his anxiety creep into his voice. It didn’t really work though, because Jason was jerking his head to look at him, brow creased.
“I don’t, uh, know how to explain this to you easily. But while we were out last night-” Here he paused, and gave Tim an appraising look. But Tim could guess what he was talking about, and he didn’t want Jason to move around it in circles. He drew himself up, and looked Jason in the eye.
“I know your secret identities. That you all are the Bats. That you’re Robin,” Something flashed across Jason’s face too fast for Tim to catch it, and then he was chuckling again. He shook his head.
“God, you knew even then? You’ve always been smart, I guess,” It was quiet, and Tim didn’t really understand. Jason lifted his head and continued again.
“Yeah. While we were out as the bats last night, some sort of spell hit you. It made you… however old you are now.” He stared Tim down, a gentle expression on his face. Tim blue screened.
“Nine,” He answered, almost automatically. What Jason was saying made sense. Well, it made sense to anyone who grew up in Gotham. That would explain why everyone was older, and why Tim’s treehouse looked different. He squinted at the pictures on the wall. The familiar boy did actually look a lot like him if he thought about it.
“Okay. It made you nine. You were sixteen,” Tim thought back on what Jason had said before.
“You said… ‘we’ were out?” His voice trembled a little, a tiny bit of hope sneaking through. Jason caught it, and smiled again.
“Yeah Timbit. We were out,” He responded.
“I’m a bat?” Tim almost squeaked it.
“Yeah, you’re Robin,” Jason nodded. Tim grinned, and maybe he should be more concerned about the magic spell and his apparent seven years of missing time, but Jason just said he was Robin-
Tim paused. “Wait. If I’m Robin, who are you?” That same brief flash of some other emotion passed over Jason’s face.
“I, uh. Moved on. Became Red Hood,” Tim gasped a little.
“ Red Hood? That is such a cool name," he almost whispered. A bit of surprise passed over Jason’s face. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“You think?” He responded, an echo of Tim earlier. Tim nodded eagerly, then leaned back in his beanbag.
“Wow. That’s a lot to take in,” He stared up at the ceiling. Jason hummed. Tim sat up again, realizing maybe he should verify this. He gave Jason a firm look. “Prove it. Tell me something about myself that no one else would know,” Jason stared for a moment, then answered easily.
“You used to sleep with your favorite photo of Bruce and I in costume under your pillow,” Tim’s face flamed. That was absolutely true, and he had absolutely never told anyone that. He had thought he never would, but apparently future Tim was a traitor.
“Yeah whatever,” He mumbled, looking down. He was pretty sure Jason was smirking. He looked up again when something new occurred to him.
“If I’m Robin… does that make us brothers? Like you and Dick?” Jason stared at him for a moment, and then he nodded. His voice was a bit weak when he spoke, but Tim couldn’t really figure out why.
“Yeah Tim. We’re brothers,” Tim was practically vibrating in his seat.
“ Wow . I bet you’re the best big brother ever, Jason. Well, you and Dick. ‘Cause you’re both so cool, y’know? I bet we all have a lot of fun,” Tim trailed off a bit, because Jason was making a really weird face. It looked sad and happy and guilty, and his eyes looked kind of shiny. Tim didn’t know why he looked like that, but he really didn’t want the first person in his treehouse to cry . He quickly tried to change subjects.
“Hey, did you know you’re the first person up here? Unless future me took people up here,” He frowned, then shrugged. “Well I’m younger than him, so I’m counting you as the first person up here.” Jason shook himself a little, then swallowed.
“Yeah? Well, I’m honored,” His voice was a bit stronger. Tim grinned. Crisis averted. There was a slight pause, then Jason glanced at the door of the treehouse.
“B is probably waiting for us to come down,” He started. Tim instinctively shrunk down on himself. Even knowing what Jason had told him, he could still hear Janet in the back of his head telling him not to embarrass them. Jason frowned. “It’ll be okay, Tim. He just wants to fix this so you can get all your memories back and go back to being… well. Tim.”
Abruptly, the image of labs and needles and Bruce dressed as a mad scientist came to mind, which… sounded horrible to Tim. “Is it gonna hurt?” He asked quietly. Jason squinted at him, then sat back.
“He’s not gonna experiment on you, Timmy. He’s probably just gonna call Zatanna and ask for help.” Tim thought about that for a moment, then nodded. He kind of did want to go back to normal, if that meant he could be Robin .
“Okay,” He agreed. Jason heaved himself out of his chair and clapped a giant hand on Tim’s shoulder.
“That’s the spirit. I’ll go down first,” He offered. Tim nodded, and followed Jason out of the door. Before he knew it, he was planting his feet on solid ground, and once again clutching the front of his sweatshirt as he looked up at Bruce.
God the man was massive . And Tim knew logically that he and Jason were about the same size, but Bruce just seemed bigger. And scarier. Even though he was smiling down at Tim. He shifted on his feet, kinda ready to run away again rather than embarrass his mother.
“Mr. Wayne,” He started. Bruce furrowed his brow and opened his mouth, but then Dick was knocking into the man’s shoulder so he could be in Tim’s line of vision. Honestly the look in Dick’s eyes was kind of scary, but for a different reason. The reason being that it looked like Dick was going to grab-
Yeah okay, Dick just grabbed him and scooped him into the air. “Ugh, Tim, I forgot how little you used to be. I’m getting baby fever,” Tim pushed against Dick’s chest so he could lean back and look the man in the eye.
“”I’m nine ," he said, offended. Dick had a grin on his face like he had meant to bait him. Tim frowned, glancing over to Jason, who was currently speaking quietly to Bruce; probably updating him on the situation, Tim realized. When Bruce caught him looking, he smiled again. Tim tried to give him a polite smile back.
Dick set him down again, and Tim stepped back, trying to stand tall. Then all three men were looking down at him with various expressions. There was a beat of silence, then Jason cleared his throat. “Tim, why don’t we go back to the manor and play some Mario Kart while Bruce calls Zatanna. Brother stuff, you know,” Tim felt himself light up, not noticing how Bruce’s face had turned heartbreakingly fond as he looked at his middle son.
“Yes please,” Tim responded eagerly, barely remembering his manners. Dick fist pumped and Jason grinned. Bruce cleared his throat, then turned around and crouched down. Tim stared in confusion for a moment before Bruce glanced over his shoulder with a small smile.
“Hop on, chum. You do it all the time as Robin,” Dick and Jason did not mention how Tim absolutely was too big to do that at sixteen, and Tim apparently failed to see the holes in Bruce’s story. Instead, he allowed himself a small smile and wrapped his arms and legs around Bruce before being hoisted up in the air.
Bruce really was big, because Tim felt very high up. But he didn’t need to be scared; Bruce was warm and broad, and his hands were steady holding Tim up as they set off towards the manor. He was pretty sure he had never had a piggy back ride. Well, apparently he had as big Tim. He was also pretty sure he just heard Dick whisper “God, I think B wishes he could adopt him twice.”
He really couldn’t wait to get his memories back. Maybe, since Jason seemed to like it, they could hang out in his treehouse sometime. It was amazing that he finally had someone to share it with.