Archive of Our Own

Dick Grayson was on a mission, one that required a keen eye and the ability to carry heavy boxes up and down flights of stairs so Alfred didn't have to.

The team, consisting of Tim, Damian, Steph, Duke and himself, had been called upon by Bruce to help relocate some old junk in the manor to the many group homes and orphanages of Gotham. He had said it would both be a good way to clean up the manor's attic and give to the good cause that was the children of Gotham. Dick had easily agreed with the plan, especially as it so conveniently landed on his bi-weekly trip back to Gotham. The rest of the family that came along for this cleaning day were on a scale of eagerness that wavered with each person. Stephanie was glad to help after a bribe of $50 bucks.

When asked if the Bat would help with the heavy lifting, he insisted it would be more efficient to just supervise after the sprained leg he had gained last night on patrol. Dick felt this was unfair, especially after seeing him drag Damian in with the rest of the group not a moment after the declaration, but held his tongue; he'd just give him grief about it later.

So that's how Dick ended up scrounging around the large Wayne Manor attic with his search team of 4. The group was fanned out in all corners, moving back and forth to put items in boxes for moving.

The whole space was a treasure trove of old belongings and furniture. Old shelves held trinkets, books, and a strangely large amount of justice league merch covered in dust. Boxes were piled up high enough to almost touch the low, sloped ceiling. The only light source was the large, circular window in the front of the room. It filtered out yellow-ish light through the dirty window.

"This is ridiculous," Damian scowled, rummaging through a large pile of old T-shirts. He pulled one out to inspect its fabric. "You'd think father would just buy new materials instead of making us dig for old ones."

"Doesn't that just defeat the purpose of reusing?" Duke replied, picking through the pile himself. He pulled out an old Gotham University tank top that was mostly tattered with holes and grimaced.

"Yes, but it'd be less tedious on our end of it."

Damien folded the shirt up neatly. He tossed it with deliberate ease so it landed perfectly on top of the other clothes in the moving box, only for another shirt to land squarely on top of it, clearly unfolded and disheveled. Damian frowned, head snapping up with narrowed eyes.

"Drake! at least try for a little decorum? The clothes will wrinkle!"

Tim stood across the open space, arms posed still as if he made a basketball shot. shrugging as an amused smirk pulled at his lips, he turned to Stephanie smugly.

"Told you I could make it."

Steph, sat on the large bureau pressed against the wall, merely shoved Tim's face away with a snort. Tim replied with an undignified yelp.

"Lucky shot."

Duke laughed, tossing his ratty tank top to Tim.

"Try making that one into the garbage can."

Damian's head swiveled. "Don't enable them!"

Tim caught the tank top with his face, but quickly recovered with a grumble of determination. Now eyeing the bin across the littered floor, he lined up his shot with an exaggerated flair of his wrist, then threw it across the room. it arced, peaked near the ceiling, then landed on Dick's head as he emerged from behind a shelf by the bin. He met Tim's eyes with an unimpressed look.

"dude! That was gonna go in!" Tim complained.

"Uh, I think you meant 'Gee, sorry for hitting you in the face, Dick!'" Dick supplied. He adjusted the box in arms so he could grab the tank top and promptly throw it back, making it the third thing to hit Tim in the face in the last minute.

"Did you find anything else to donate?" Duke asked, biting back his amused smile.

"Yeah, a couple things actually." Dick placed the new box of things down on the ground next to the others. "Some old DVDs, Halloween decorations, books- can someone text Jason and ask if he wants any?"

Stephanie pushed off the bureau and pulled out her phone.

"On it, I already sent him a picture of a Wonder woman mug he'd want." She crouched down by the boxes and started sifting through the novels.

"Are we done yet? I refuse to look through more clutter." Damian crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at Dick impatiently. Dick ruffled his hair his reply.

"We should have enough, we just gotta bring the boxes we do have down the car."

"Let's hurry, then. The longer we stay up here, the more dust I'll be hacking up for the rest of the week." Stephanie stood, taking the box up with her. Duke nodded, picking up another from the pile.

"Yeah, no wonder Alfred didn't wanna come up here, he'd have a heart attack."

Tim, who had now walked over the garbage to throw away the tank top like a normal person, scooted past his brothers to pick up the last box with one hand, the other scrolling through his phone.

"speaking of, Bruce texted. Said Alfred made lasagna for dinner."

The group of older teens went deafly silent as the announcement was made. Everyone glanced around tensely, before Steph bulldozed her way through to the door, followed quickly by Duke and Tim.

"Move it, people, move it!"

"I'm getting the first piece!"

"Duke! quit hitting me!"

Damian, never to be outdone, followed hastily, catching up with the group easily without a box in hand.

"Stop, you heathens! That piece is mine!"

The rumble of bodies pushing and shoving out the door made the floor tremble. A small container on the shelf rattled and fell to the ground, easily forgotten by the stampede now making their way down the stairs. Dick lunged, moving to the doorway to call down.

"Careful with the boxes!" He doubted his warning was heard over the horde of yelling and laughing, but it felt better to say something anyway.

Dick sighed, fondness etched into the soft smile playing at his lips, and turned back to the container that fell; lid popped off and its materials sprawled across the floor. He crouched down, picking up what seemed to be video tapes and the couple of other things that tumbled out.

Huh, interesting.

Over all his years in the manor, Dick had never used any video cameras, let alone watch tapes like these. Maybe Bruce had some home movies with his own parents? It would explain why they had been untouched and unmentioned up in the attic for who knew how long.

Curiosity and a tender heart made him look at the titles crudely scribbled with a marker on the side. Something about these lost cartridges of film made him think about the memories probably recorded in each tape, moments forgotten in the lofty spaces of the attic.

The titles didn't give much up about the contents of the tapes either. They were all relatively the same; the acronym YJU with a smile face or some doodle drawn by it, each with a number going from 1 to 5.

This just peaked his curiosity even more. He took in the other trinkets that fell out; A guitar pick, blue, yellow and red nail polish, some county fair tickets from a few years ago in a town he didn't recognize, and a small plastic baggy with star beads and string in it- a broken bracelet.

what did these all have in common? Were they forgotten up here on purpose? And who in the family had these belonged to? Dick's detective brain was turning, and his nosy older brother instincts were in full force. It was memorabilia, definitely, some memories held in physical form. He could count more than a couple people who had lived in this house who were sentimental enough to keep stuff like this.

Before he could dig a little deeper, Tim's echoing voice came from the stairs below.

"Dick! Are you coming or what?"

Dick hurried, putting the tapes and mysterious trinkets back into the container then popping back on the lid. Standing, he looked at the empty space on the shelf, intending to put it back, but faltered. He didn't wanna leave these things to collect dust for another 5 years, plus those video tapes seemed interesting, maybe they held the answers to this mysterious box of memories.

He tucked the Box under his arm and rushed his way out the attic door and down the stairs.

"Coming!"

after a couple flights, he saw Tim waiting down at the bottom. He was leaning back against a sideboard, that permanent frown of suspicion pulling his lips down. His eyes caught the box in Dick's hands before he hid it behind his back. Tim raised an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

Dick smiled innocently, meeting his brother at the bottom of the stairs with a shrug.

"What's what?"

"That box, behind you're back."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Timbo."

Dick didn't want his little mystery solved by world renowned detective Tim before him! It would take all the fun out of snooping. He'd show it to him after he watched the tapes.

"But it's right there."

"nothing's there, bud."

" Yes there is! It's right-" Tim groaned, shaking his head. "Whatever, just hurry up before all the food's gone. Steph's already threatened twice for the first piece."

"Understandably so, Alfred's Lasagna is nothing to joke about."

Tim's lip twitched, breaking that annoyed facade for just a moment. He eyed Dick suspiciously one last time before turning on his heel to head back to the kitchen. Dick took this opportunity to take the container and shove it into the drawer of the nearby sideboard. He'd come back for it later tonight.

"Just hurry up, Dickbird, I'm hungry."

Dick's head whipped around at that name, an offended gasp coming with. He rushed over to follow Tim down the hall.

"Dickbird?! Did Jason tell you to call me that?"

That earned a laugh from Tim, bumping his shoulder against Dick's.

"He said you didn't like it."

"I don't! At least I expect it from Jason, but you?" Dick sighed, head hung in exaggerated anguish. "Just say you hate me."

"I will if you don't hurry. Up."

Dick hurried up, pushing Tim and running past him in the Kitchen. Tim followed, trying to step on the back of his brother's shoes. Start with dinner, Dick thought, then he'd solve his little mystery.

-

Dinner and clean up went by quickly. There had been plenty of food to go around for the group attending despite the many warnings there wouldn't be. Bruce had asked how clean up had gone, and each member of the search time had promptly given their explanation of success. Cass had appeared at some point during eating, sitting with Steph while she kept trying to steal some of Tim's food, Damian was sneaking pieces of pasta under the table for Titus, Alfred pretended not to notice, and Duke and Dick were having an argument about how efficient a sponge could be in a fight. Over all, a nice dinner before the lengthy focus of patrol.

Dick, after helping clean up and putting away the dishes, had found the perfect time for his little watch party before needing to get ready. He had about half an hour before everyone would have to start suiting up, it gave him a window of downtime before anyone would come looking to tell him to prepare himself. He had been scheming this plan since halfway through dinner.

Now, it was time to put it into action.

With everyone scattering across the Manor for their last couple minutes of free time, Dick made his escape. He traced his steps back down the hall where he had left the container. Finding the side table, he pulled the drawer open and was thankful to find his prize was right where he left it. Just as he was taking it out, trying not to look suspicious, a soft thump drew his attention to the stairs.

On the last step, sat Alfred the cat, staring intently. Dick froze, he was caught in the act. Glancing left and right, Dick scrutinized the cat.

"You didn't see anything."

The feline meowed.

Dick nodded. They had come to an agreement.

He took the container and hurried it off, away from the scene of the crime and to a place of privacy where he could figure out his mystery in peace. His first thought was the living room; it had an old enough TV he could use for the tapes to work. Then, he thought better of it. There were probably some sort of family members lounging there before patrol, it would be too crowded.

His qualm was solved when he almost walked past it. The lounge's open door lay waiting, empty and to his right. Dick glanced around, seeing no one lay waiting in surprise, then made his way through. he closed the door as he walked in, spotting the TV in the darkened corner. Dick set up on the ground in front of it, legs crossed underneath him.

The contents of the container were laid on the floor again, tapes lined up in order and other knickknacks beside them. It was always a good idea to start from the beginning, so Dick grabbed the first videotape labeled "YJU #1" and popped it into the tape player. After a couple trail button pushes, the TV flickered on. Dick scooted closer, his detective gears turning with an eager curiosity.

Once the static settled, he was met with a camera shake and the view of bright red sneakers on a concrete ground. A voice, mid sentence, cut in.

"-It working now?" The voice was young, vaguely familiar though muffled by the poor quality of the old camera.

The camera shook again, spinning until all Dick could see was one big, chartreuse colored eye. It flicked around a second, then dick could see the smiling twinkle in their gaze.

"Guys I got it to work!"

Dick knows he's heard that voice before, somewhere at some point. Now it's gonna irritate him if he doesn't remember.

luckily, he doesn't have to rack his brain over it much longer. Another voice chimes in, farther away on the recording.

"Why are you filming on that ancient artifact, Bart? I thought you had a phone."

Bart? Bart Allen? Impulse, kid flash, speedster Bart? Dick hadn't seen that kid in forever, it felt like. He had been one of Tim's friends when they had founded Young Justice. At least the annoyance of not knowing who it was is gone, but it raised more questions. What's Bart doing on his TV?

The camera zoomed out to reveal what he had already known. Bart, blazing eyes, a wild mess of hair and a younger face, was smiling to the other voice off screen, clearly moving closer the way the lens bumped up and down. Dick could see a star drawn on his cheek, eyeliner around the waterlines of his eyes; smudged on purpose or not, he couldn't tell.

"The footage will be cooler this way! It'll look all vintage, and be great for the documentary they make once we're famous."

The camera flipped again, revealing the second face to be another familiar sight. Superboy, or Conner Kent (or Kon-el) stood in view of the camera. The Kryptonian was rocking his old leather jacket and sunglasses, though now the lenses were star shaped, and his hair was all spiked up like a rock star. It was probably related to the guitar strung across his torso with a strap. He looked younger too, laughing at Bart's antics with a shake of his head.

"Alright. Go crazy, man."

Dick was baffled. Two heroes he had known, and were surprisingly not related to, were on some videotapes up in the Wayne Manor attic. It didn't make any sense for them to plant these items here, what would be the reason? and what are these tapes for? Dick thought a little harder, remembering Young Justice, the team these two had been on. If this tape was for Young Justice, it would mean the box full of their stuff belonged to one person from that team that had lived here before, that person being-

"I don't think the goal is to be famous. it's supposed to be a one time thing."

The camera swirled quick enough to give whiplash, leaving Tim Drake in view of the Camera. That voice Dick could recognize anywhere, past or present. Only this Tim, much like everyone else in the tape, looked a lot younger, probably 14. Chronic baby face didn't really do him any favors. His hair was spiked up like Kon's, but it was shaped more like a Mohawk. Tim had eyeliner, and he wore a ripped up band shirt that looked a size too big.

A couple things tugged at Dick's chest at once seeing his baby brother look like an opener for green Day; one was the overbearing nostalgic flair for Little Tim, the other was the befuddlement at a situation that just seemed to get weirder and weirder. Dick was determined for answers

Walking in next after Tim was yet another member of the young Justice crew, Cassie Sandsmark, Wonder Girl. She looked just as decked out in rock star attire as the others; Hair in high pigtails, a jean jacket with patches and pins, and under her shorts were some colorful tights. She looked more confident in this get-up then Tim; her eyes meeting the camera's lens and waving. Bart continued his conversation with Tim.

"That's what you say now, but just wait- showbiz will be calling your name by the end of the night."

Tim's faced cringed.

"Don't call it showbiz."

"Come on, Tim, Bart might be right." Cassie cut in, leaning over Tim's shoulder.

"About showbiz?"

"No, about this! The band stuff! Who says it has to be a one time thing?"

Add that sentence to the list of things that caught Dick's interest in this video. Was this what this video tape had been? Had Tim actually been in a band? Tilting his head, Dick took in the setting a bit more. It was dim, but faint lights could be seen filtering in from behind Kon, brick walls and some sort of electrical board spoke to a backstage area, and, if Dick listened hard enough, he could hear the familiar rumble of a crowd not that far away.

No way.

"It's a mission, that should make it a one time thing." Tim persisted, arms crossing over his chest. Kon, who didn't look all that convinced, reached over to poke at Tim's spiked hair.

"Correction: we're the distraction. Greta and Cissie are handling the mission part, we just get to rock out."

Tim swatted Kon's hand away, eyes narrowed in the clone's direction.

"A distraction is still a part of the mission, Kon."

"I mean if you really think about it-"

"Regardless if it's a mission or not," Cassie intervened between the teen's two butting heads."We'll put our best out there. Who knows, we may even have some fun."

"I'll make sure of it!" Bart's voice sounded off from behind the camera. Cassie looked past with a grin that probably matched the one Bart was wearing. Tim looked at Kon, tentatively skeptical, and Kon looked a Tim, more determined than ever to be a rock star. One sighed, the other grinned, but they both looked to Bart with a nod of appease.

Bart made an excited sound and put his fist out into the space between the four.

"Young, Just Us?"

Cassie was first, then Kon and Tim. All together, their hands in a circle, each wrist wore a Bracelet. Star beads with their respective colors. Dick broke from his focus on the screen, eyes going to the plastic bag of broken bracelet and string. That one was Tim's, a friendship bracelet. The voices from the screen echoed back in a chorus of voices.

"Young, Just Us!"

The hands went up with a jumble of laughs and a half-groans at the obvious band name. Dick looked back up in time to see the camera pan to the 4 of them together, Bart holding the camera like a selfie and pointing to the camera as the rest looked into the lens.

"Remember this, world! Next you see us, we're gonna be famous!"

"Yeah, and remember how stupid Tim looks with a Mohawk!" Kon added.

"You basically have the same hair as me!" Tim gawked.

Another voice came out from beyond the camera. all the kid's heads swiveled in the direction of the noise and cheers.

"Is that our cue?" Tim questioned.

"Shit, my bass!" Cassie scrambled out of frame, probably to go find the instrument she needed to perform. Bart's camera shook as everyone scurried to get to their places.

"Let's Rock and Roll!" Kon's voice could be heard through the commotion.

"Dude, you're so corny." Tim sighed.

The last thing on this tape was Bart's face, half in frame as he gathered what looked to be drumsticks from the floor.

"Stay tuned, future viewers, this is gonna be the part of the documentary where they cut to a killer performance of us, and then a montage of our first tour. If the director wants my spark notes on how it's gonna go-"

Bart, come on!"

"Coming!" He grinned one last time at the camera. "Bye guys, see you soon-"

The camera cut to black and the tape player ejected from the display, Leaving Dick staring at his reflection in the dark surface of the Television. He was stunned, absolutely shocked in the face of this new discovery. His little brother had been in a band, even if only temporarily, and he had no idea! Tim didn't even seem like the type of kid to be in a band.

Something like this made Dick's mind twist. Had Tim just hidden this from him and the others really well, or had Dick just been oblivious about Tim's activities? How long had he been in the band? Why hadn't he been invited to a concert?

even with his mystery solved, Dick felt he had more questions then actual answers. Reaching over to grab the ejected tape, Dick lined it back up with the others to weigh out his options. Of course, he could always ask Tim about his rock star past, but how much would he actually tell him about? Tim had always been private, and must've had a reason to stash memories away in the attic for who knows how long, so getting him to elaborate on something like this might be more challenging than usual.

Then again, Dick is nothing if not persistent.

Decided, the next tape in line goes into the tape player. Dick does the same button smashing he did before until footage is playing on the TV again. He'll remember how to turn it on next time, for now, he settles into the next video.

This time, instead of sneakers as an opening shot, Dick got the view of a truck bed. More specifically, dick saw the backs of the familiar figures of Kon and Cassie sitting on the tailgate, leaning into each other as if looking at something, and the backdrop of some sort of fair ahead of them. Over Cassie's head Dick could see the top of a Ferris wheel with the sun starting to set. Warm colors painted the sky and kid's laughter could be heard in the far distance. All things considered, it was a pleasant sight.

The camera, after a second or two of stillness, jostled in the hands of whoever was holding it. That who was Bart, figured out only after he turned the camera around to face him. He had more casual clothes on now, a red baseball cap, navy sweater combo, and a blinding grin already pulling at his mouth.

"hi again, audience! This is tape 2 for the Young, Just Us early years collection." Bart held up two fingers to emphasize his title. Reaching forward, the boy seemed to prop up the camera on his knees so he could talk with both of his hands. When settled, he continued.

"So! Recap: It's been 3 days since our first show. We rocked it, of course, and Cissie and Greta's mission was a success! only one car had been hit with a boulder, and the guy had insurance. Easy win."

Dick didn't know if he was relieved or not to hear no elaboration on the bolder thing.

"We even did so well, that we booked another gig already! Some lady in the audience needed a last minute band to fill out a town's concert series. we said yes, obviously. Rob says we agreed only to keep our cover as a band, but no one believes him, and now… we're here!"

Bart spun the camera around again. He zoomed in past Kon and Cassie's heads to get a view of the fair in the background. Kon caught sight of the camera, looked over his shoulder, and smiled back. He attempted to wave but Cassie caught his hand before he could, bringing it back down to a safer angle.

"Hold your hands still, they gotta dry!" Kon huffed but sat still. Cassie turned her head, finding Bart and his camera.

"Bart, It's your turn after Kon. What colors do you want your nails?" She picked up a couple of nail polish bottles from her side and held them out for the boy to see. Bart pondered.

"Uhh, all of them?"

Cassie nodded and turned back to a begrudged Kryptonian. While watching, Dick's hand found one of the nail polish bottles lined up with the rest of the evidence, thumb rubbing over the smooth texture. Bart kept on talking.

"Anyway, we were able to bring our instruments and other tech stuff with this truck here, from the Kent's farm." Tilting the camera, Bart patted the outside of the truck bed, it's paint old and chipping but still a vibrant red.

"Pa Kent said we could use it as long as we didn't put any dents in it, so Thank you Ma and Pa kent! we'll put you in the special thanks part of the end credits."

Once again, Dick heard an undignified sound from behind the camera.

"hey, I'm the one who got the truck. and asked!" Kon voiced his upset at being neglected in the thanking portion of the documentary. Bart called back.

"Yeah, but it's Ma Kent and Pa Kent's truck."

"I'm a Kent!"

"You're not Ma or Pa, though"

Cassie snorted from a bit farther away.

"Yeah, you're not Ma or Pa, Kon."

Kon made an exasperated sound in return.

"I'm not appreciated by you people."

Cassie laughed again. She started talking to Conner again but it was muffled by the maneuvering of the camera again. Bart came into view, but he held the camera close to his mouth so he could whisper into the lens.

"And before any of our guardians or parents get upset that we were out in the middle of no where without telling anyone, I'd like to reassure that we are being supervised."

Next thing Dick knew, the camera was being picked up and moved again. With The framing in mind, Bart must've been halfway out of the truck bed, holding the camera out to get video evidence of supervision. In said frame, Dick could see the right side of the truck from the back, a new view of grass and what seemed to be a makeshift parking lot for the fair, and another young looking Tim talking to the hero, Red Tornado.

Tim was in casual attire, like everyone else had been, but he was focused. He held a clipboard in hand, glancing between it and the Android that would've been listening intently if they were alive. All things considered, they looked pretty engaged.

"We got good ol' Red Tornado here for damage control! they're also the only one here who could drive and look legal doing it." Bart's voice came through, bright and proud for having thought of being prepared. Dick was sure Red Tornado was responsible, but they didn't know how much it counted if no one knew these super teens had been there in the first place.

Tim, having heard Bart's voice From the truck, glanced up to see Bart and the camera he held. His lips twitched in mirth, offering a quick wave in his direction. Dick could only assume the speedster was waving enthusiastically back, for when the lens started bobbing up and down again, Red Tornado's head swiveled owl-like, their hand rising to point at him. Their robotic voice followed.

"Careful, Bart."

Bart responded with a prompted, "huh?" before he and the camera went tumbling down to the grass a couple feet below. A couple winces of sympathy, even one from Dick himself, could be heard through the rustle of the lens.

He was left with a view of the sky, still vibrant and painted with the sun's setting colors. Tim hurried over, coming into the frame again to look down at Bart. He tucked the clipboard underneath his arm, and offered a hand to pull his friend up. In the quick movement, Dick could catch a glimpse of Tim's hands, specifically his red and green nails.

"You okay, dude?" He asked, pulling Bart up into the view with him, seen from the ground. The boy in question offered a grunt back, but gave a thumbs up.

"yep, all good. thanks."

"No problem." Tim's eyes drew back down, finding the camera still laid on the ground. He bent down, putting it back up and holding it so only Bart's bottom half was in frame.

"You're recording again?" He asked, fixing the view so Bart could be seen. The change of topic made Bart light up again, smiling brightly with a nod. The hand on his head quickly went to his hip along with the other.

"Yep! We gotta keep the audience up to date. I've already reassured them about our adult supervision situation." Bart sounded wholly proud of his planning abilities. Tim paused.

"Right.. you're gonna tell this 'audience' that we, a group of random teenagers, some of whom don't legally exist, are being supervised by an Android superhero, and you don't think that'll blow our cover as vigilantes?"

Bart took a moment to take in his plan from a new perspective, hand coming up to his chin in deep thought.

"I mean.. when you put it like that it sounds bad-"

"What way were you putting it that it sounded good??"

"But we can just cut any incriminating footage! I'll refrain from any hero talk too. We're still in the early years, anyway, we got a lot more filming to go if we want a good documentary."

Tim sounded like he was either biting back a sigh or a smile. "You really want this documentary, huh?"

Bart's face fell into something deathly serious.

"More than anything in the world."

Before Tim could ask any more questions about that, Kon's voice called out from the truck. He and Cassie were rounding around the tailgate, the boy in question dragging his feet in exaggerated anguish.

"Tiimm! Can we go to the fair yet? I'm dying of hunger, boredom, and the smell of fair foods is not helping!"

Bart seemed to be snapped from whatever serious moment he had as seamlessly as he slipped into it at the mention of going down to the fair grounds. He gasped and nodded, shaking Kon's shoulder in agreement.

"oh! yeah! yeah! we should go! Have you finished your safety checklist yet?"

Dick could hear the frown in Tim's voice even through the camera. "Well, yeah I have, but I haven't finished updating red tornado on the amp setups-"

Cassie scoffed, waving him off flippantly. "Tornado's fine, man. You've gone over what a sound check is with them, like, 5 times already."

"Exactly! " Kon exclaimed, "And the longer we take here the less time we have actually enjoying the fair before the show! we gotta get to know our venue, right? be prepared?"

"I do like being prepared.." Tim contemplated.

"it's settled, then! I'll go wait in line for some tickets. Tim, I'm using your credit card." In a blur of color, and what looked like a glitch on screen, Bart was off and away to get fair tickets.

"I give him about a minute till he gets bored in line and comes back." Cassie comments.

"90 seconds," Kon counters. "5 bucks?" They shake hands, then both cross their arms in assumed victory. Tim sighs.

"Let's just get ready to go. I want to be able to move everything safely to the stage when we need to."

The camera's perspective shifted, blurred edges spreading as Tim moved.

"Red Tornado, can you stay and watch the truck?"

The Android in question reached out for the camera as Tim handed them it, adjusting it with the steadiest grip yet so you could see the entirety of Tim's face, clear and focused. The sight of baby Tim again made Dick smile.

"Of course, Tim. I'll stay here and rust while you kids enjoy yourselves."

"You need to work on your sarcasm."

"Just be safe. Stay away from fun houses. They are deceptive." You could almost hear the sigh in their voice.

Tim chuckled. backing away with a nod.

"You got it. Thanks Red."

the duo of Kon and Cassie were finishing getting ready, Kon throwing on a leather jacket that, admittedly, did not have the house of El crest on the back. Must be his incognito Jacket. Cassie herself had a flannel and baseball cap.

The scene and their voices were softer, due to the distance between the camera and the group. Something Dick noticed, or more felt, was how light the atmosphere was. The fading sun made the grass and everything around it look golden. The old quality lead to a nostalgic feeling around the video, even if it couldn't have been more than a couple years ago. screams and music from the fair so far away, the laughter from Cassie and Tim after Kon cracked some joke. it spoke to Dick. Meant something. Something he couldn't fully place for his little brother.

Dick had seen him laugh before. He's made him laugh before, not even an hour ago tonight. But it still felt different. Maybe it was seeing a little Tim, or that it was him joking around with his friends like a kid his age should've been doing more of. Or maybe it was, now that everyone's older, those big bursts of joy and laughter come few and far between for Tim, who has since been more reserved with his emotions.

The Family had gotten closer, of course. Started communicating and talking, much to everyone's relief. Any emotional moments made between him and his family were unspoken now. Subtle yet still felt. Vulnerability, trauma, and age did that, he supposed. Connection and familiarity made it easier for the softer things to blossom freely.

Still, he missed that bubbling laugh from Tim. The type of thing he couldn't repress, despite all the eye rolls and sighs of exasperation. Dick remembered all the times Tim would come over to his Blüdhaven apartment and they would spend hours doing whatever they felt like. Missions turned into sleepovers then weekend trips, Bruce would have to sometimes bargain with Tim to get him to return to Gotham within a reasonable time. It always ended with another visit being planned for soon, anyway.

When was the last time they had that?

Dick couldn't linger on his lack of brotherly sleepovers for long- a flash of navy and red appeared once again. The trio cheered at his arrival, Though Kon did seem to half groan while he pulled 5 bucks out of pocket and slipped it to Cassie. She took it with a smug smile.

They regrouped, dispersed their tickets, surprisingly not stolen, and were seemingly ready to go. They almost started walking before Tim glanced back at the camera, pausing. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted back.

"Red! Did you turn off the camera?"

A creak of metal was heard, along with a subtle shift in the lens's angle. Bart joined in the yelling.

"Press the top button!"

No, TOP button not the side-"

"the big red one with a power symbol!"

it took a couple tries for the hero to compute.

"Hold it down for three seconds. Three second-"

The film cut to black and the tape was spit from the recorder. It left Dick in a sudden dark and quiet that felt starkly different from the noise of the camera.

His hands were moving before he could registered it. The quiet lingered for no longer than 10 seconds before Dick was replacing one tape with another. He, fortunately, did remember the order of buttons that needed to be pressed this time, and the tape was playing with far less abuse towards its player. Progress!

Maybe Dick was pushing his luck here. It was a miracle that no one had walked in yet, especially when in a family that had a hard time minding their business. He wondered, briefly, how much longer he had until it was time to suit up and patrol; Babs would personally kick his ass if he was late without an excuse again.

But, once again, it was pushed away by curiosity. There seemed to be so much more to learn about his brother through these tapes. Stuff that reminded Dick of a different Tim. One, he was now realizing, he hadn't reminisced on long enough.

Besides, the video was already playing by the time his short lived hesitation came to mind.

Much like the first tape he watched, this tape opened with a lot of movement. It was dark as well, only broken up by short flashes of colorful lights on the pavement that rushed by. Dick could hear a crowd; a big one if the volume of them said anything. Besides that, he could hear short, huffs of breaths from whoever was carrying the camera. grumbles followed along with it.

"'Go grab the camera,' my ass.. could've been back already if I could fly but noo.." The voice, Dick could now name as Kon by the familiar tone, was disgruntled to say the least. It also sounded like he didn't know the recorder was turned on by the way it was being held and how the Kryptonian was talking.

Dick frowned. Maybe this tape was a mistake; some extra footage they forgot to delete.

It kept playing, though. The camera was spinning around, now giving the lens a view of Kon, walking out of what looked to be a parking lot; again, hard to tell in the dim and flashing lights environment.

Kon looked different than his last appearance and more like his first; Studded leather jacket and hair spiked up like punk. His sunglasses were now red hearts and he had a lip piercing, which Dick couldn't fathom how or when he got in between the last tape and this one. He looked up at the lens, one hand fixing his hair before his expression changed.

"Wait, the red light means it's on..?"

The camera got closer to his scrutinizing eye. After a moment, he hummed, returning the lens up to its angled position. He grinned and winked to the camera.

"Well I guess I'll narrate this section; how did the imp start it?" Clearing his throat, Kon pointed at Dick and started his spiel.

"What up, Audience? So, big recap: It's been about.. three and a half weeks since I last saw Bart film on this thing. We were on our first day of the tour, right? I don't know, it's been crazy recently."

3 Weeks? The tour?? It felt like any added information Dick was getting tonight only threw him for a farther loop. The band must've been something professional if they were going on tour. How long were they away from home? How did nobody notice?

"We have been taking plenty photos on our phones though, we'll show you guys when we get back."

The camera came back down again, cropping it so it was just the top half of Kon's face and the night sky behind him.

"Anyway, to explain; after that one show, we found out it was actually a traveling fair. We committed to one performance, but now we technically have to keep touring with them until the fair season is over. A lot of logistics and fine prints I don't wanna get into, but point is: we get an excuse to keep rocking out."

Huh. So it wasn't an actual tour. That relieved Dick to some degree, made him think he didn't completely gloss over Tim's triple life back then.

Despite that, it was still a concern in itself that nobody seemed to know that these kids were gone for a literal month back then. How did no one notice?

"I'm surprised Tim has let us go on for so long, but if you ask me, I think he's enjoying it as much as the rest of us. I mean, look at the crowd!" Kon turns the camera to see a large stage in the distance, an even larger crowd spread out in front of it. Lights were flashing in beat with whatever music was playing before the show, something with a heavy bass that could be from where Kon was.

"We've become popular, it's wild! I wonder how long until superman hears of us from Metro-"

"Oh my God, is that Conner Kent!?" A voice screams from afar. The camera whips around, revealing what Dick could only describe as a mob of fans. Another screamed, pointing a finger at the boy. Others chimed in with unruly enthusiasm.

"It is, it is!!"

"Holy shit, I'm your biggest fan!"

"Sign my face!"

The group moved like a pack, like a wall speeding in his direction. Kon cursed, camera swaying as he high-tailed it to the backstage door.

"Uh, no photos right now, sorry!" He called back. his hair bobbed up and down along with the night sky until his hand found the door. With the resounding strength to not rip it off it's hinges, the door swung open and closed quick enough to get Kon in and keep the groupies out. The slam of the door was followed by the sounds of pounding and muffled yells.

Kon sighed, heavy and relieved. After a moment to catch his breath, he lifts the camera back up, half his face in part of the frame, the other filled by the gray door. He grimaced to the lens.

"Okay, bad example. But most of the fans are normal. Mostly. Maybe we can invest in security."

Kon didn't speak to the camera for a while after that. He leaned back against the door for a couple more moments until he started moving again. He flew up a concrete staircase of a couple flights now that he wasn't surrounded by the masses. Dick could tell because of how much smoother the camera movement was.

When he did get to the top of the stairs, the muffled sound of music and voices came from a door. Without much hesitation, Kon pushed it open to reveal a different scene.

They were backstage to a stage again, but this time it was much more busy. People were buzzing around, wearing black and headsets as they moved things and fiddled with all kinds of tech. There was a large soundboard, a woman standing with a clipboard talking to Bart, who looked much like his first appearance in these tapes, and a large curtain to the far left, spewing light from the cracks of fabric. Everything was upgraded and up-scaled from before, Dick was impressed.

"Bart! I got your camera!" Kon yelled to the speedster across the stage. In return, Bart's head swiveled at break neck speed, his mouth forming in a gasp the camera couldn't pick up. Dick blinked, and Bart was bolting towards the camera, incredibly fast even without using super speed. Another second and Bart was cradling the camera to his face.

"My baby!!" He cried. "I'm so sorry I abandoned you, I'll never forget you again!"

Kon cleared his throat, a disgruntled tone once again peeking through.

"Your welcome, by the way. I was chased down by the wolves to bring that to you."

"Shush, errand boy, I'm having a moment."

Kon groaned. "I'm gonna go get my guitar."

The camera drifted a little away from Bart's face, maneuvering it so Dick could see backstage again. Everything was still bustling as the speedster maneuvered through a group of techies. Tucked by the wall, there was Cassie loitering in her stage clothes and a Bass strapped around her waist. Next to her stood a very ridged and very red tornado-y shaped man with a big sun hat, sunglasses, and Hawaiian t-shirt. They looked so out of place when surrounded by the dark walls and clothes of the other people around, Dick really hoped this wasn't supposed to be a disguise and was just a super weird looking tech manager.

"Mr. RT! Kon found the camera!" Bart shouted, rushing up to the Android.

Of course it was a disguise.

Bart made it to the duo, Cassie glancing up with a smile and Red tornado tipping their hat like a cowboy.

"Where's Tim?" Bart asked.

Cassie nodded her head to the left, the camera followed like it was looking itself.

"On call with his Dad. He said 'family stuff' so I'm not gonna pry."

A little distance away, Dick could see the back of Tim standing by an amp, phone pressed to his ear. Dick didn't know what to make of that; the Drakes were a complicated family, so he could only assume that a conversation they were having over call instead of text must be important.

Bart, being himself, started to walk over to Tim with.

"I will. he's gonna be all angsty tonight if he doesn't talk about it, you know?"

Cassie's laugh of agreement could be heard as Bart made his way over to the boy wonder. Luckily, the camera was still in his hands, so Dick could see Tim's expression under the rock star getup as he turned around. His brows were knit together and he was biting his cheek. It was a familiar face that Tim still did when he was thinking about something too hard- a habit he never broke. Dick recognized those habits anywhere.

Bart was close enough in range to catch the end of Tim's conversation when he got over to him. Tim ran hand through his hair.

"-Yeah, uh huh.. I know, Dad… Okay, bye, love you too." Tim ended the call quickly, staring down at his phone for a moment before catching Bart only a couple feet away. His expression softened, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hey Bart. Found your camera?" He gestured towards the lens.

"Mhm! Kon brought it up. Who was that?"

"Just my Dad. Secured myself another sleepover excuse, so I'll be good with my parents for another week." His tone didn't give away any relief or excitement about the news. it didn't really give anything, actually.

"Oo, that's good! Can't believe they agreed again. That's like the 3rd week in a row, right?"

"Yup, 3rd week," Tim's voice felt stagnant, eyes advertising the lens. The change in atmosphere was felt through the video, and Dick couldn't help but tense alongside them.

Bart, ever the observant, settled into the short pause Tim put out with a soft hum of understanding- than recovered just as quickly.

"Well, at least all the extra time you've had has been put into practicing your song for tonight."

Tim nodded, distracted for just a moment before something caught his attention. He made a weird face, looking at Bart with a cocked eyebrow. Dick felt compelled to copy it in his own surprise. Tim had a song? Didn't he have multiple with the band already?

"Tonight? like- My song, tonight?"

"what? Are you not prepared?"

"Of course I am! But-"

"Then you'll be great!" Dick could hear the cheeky grin behind his words while Tim's face morphed into shock. "I think Cassie planted your guitar on stage left, so you know where to find it."

"Bart-" Tim looked around frantically before leaning down, squeezing his phone tightly.

"I haven't performed it to a crowd before, WE haven't performed it to a crowd before! This could royally suck."

"We don't know until we try, right?" Tim's face pinched into clear exasperation. Bart pushed forward.

"Tim, dude, you're gonna kill it. I know it, Cassie and Kon know it, the crowds gonna know it- so you have to know it too, okay?"

The frustration in Tim's face drained a fraction, leaving him only anxious in the face of Bart's speech. A long pause made the moment sincere; heartwarming even through the screen. Dick leaned closer, taking in Tim's expression and waiting with him, until he sighed. The smallest, touched smile came across his face.

"Okay." He whispered. Tim pushed himself back up to stand straight, more confident. "Thanks Bart. You ain't half bad, you know that?"

Bart's beaming expression could be felt even without seeing him, his laugh breaking the tension like the sun breaking through the clouds.

"Of course I do, I'm me." The camera shook, and Bart started walking back to the group. "Come on, I got one more thing to do before the show starts."

The duo rushed over to the rest of the group, Superboy now by the wall to complete the loitering trio. Bart and the camera be-lined to Red tornado, who in turn craned their head down to listen to him.

"Okay RT, I got a job for you tonight."

"Can I take this hat hat off to do it?"

"Nope!" The camera jostled while it was handed from one to the other. "I need you to film this show for us. Do you mind going down to the pit and recording?"

"I'm assuming I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"uh.. I'll give you nuts and bolts?"

Red Tornado sounded as appalled as they could. "Why would I want those?"

"You're an Android? I thought they ate nuts and bolts."

"I don't. We don't. You're pushing harmful stereotypes. I've taught you better than that, Bartholomew."

"Red! please! You can pick music next time we are on the road, whatever you want, just pleeaassee!!"

The red tornado took the camera, holding it eye level to Bart's puppy dog eyes and pleading hands. A beat. The android made a sound close to a sigh, and Bart's expression broke with a lottery winning smile in an instant.

"Yes! Thank you RT, you absolutely rock!"

"I know. Now where did you want me to go?"

Bart gave them instructions on how to get down to the crowd and was set off on his adventure. They followed the same path Kon took to get up to the stage, hurrying down a spiral of stairs and coming out to a clearing of grass and parking lot, the stage and crowd all pushed to the left. Dick inched closer to the tape player and forwarded the video through all the walking the android was doing to get through the lines and people.

As he sped through the footage, he noticed something. there were a lot of people at this concert, filling the pit and still a decent amount filed in lines waiting to get in. The news must've gathered that a band was performing for this fair as it traveled, and a pretty good one at that with how excited the crowd was. It really did remind Dick of those band documentaries about their early years, the slow grow of a cult following before they got big. How far off was this group before they could've gotten actually famous?

Dick stopped speeding up the video when Red Tornado found a spot with a good view of the stage, concert lights dimming to signal the show was about to start. The crowd spoke in hushed voices, anticipation growing with each moment. Even Dick felt that twisty, excited feeling in his stomach at finally being able to see the band preform.

Finally, a cheer rippled through the crowd, and Cassie was seen walking out from backstage. She wore a big grin and her yellow bass strapped around her body. Then Bart, infectious energy flowing as he bounced on after her and onto the drum set, spinning his sticks idly. Kon and Tim came on together. Kon was eating up the attention and hyping up the crowd as he took his red guitar to a spot in front of his mic, Cassie to his right with one of her own splitting center. Though Tim was a little more collected, he was smiling as big as the others, waving to the crowd and settling behind a green keyboard.

Cassie leaned in close to her mic, holding it close with one hand.

"How's it going, Fawcett City!?" Her shout came out across the speaker, earning the crowd's cheer. Dick marveled at her stage presence, her confidence blooming even on stage in front of such a crowd.

Cassie chuckled, head ducking as she checked her bass. "Good to hear. We're Young, Just Us, and we're so glad to be playing for you guys tonight; you're in for a fun time."

Another ripple of cheers. Cassie glanced at Kon, who nodded with grin, Bart, who gave a big thumbs up, and Tim, who smiled with an acknowledging head tilt. She turned back to the mic.

"Lets get it started then. Sing along if you know the words."

Bart shouted from the back while clicking his sticks a faint '1, 2, 3, 4!' and the speakers exploded with Kon's guitar. A quick pattern of chords before Bart started keeping time as the intro. It didn't take long for the song to ramp up, Dick finally recognizing the opening of Paramore's Ignorance pouring through their instruments, along with the added part of Tim's keyboard. It added something unique to their rendition of the song. Cassie leaned into the Mic while picking the bass.

"If I'm a bad person, you don't like me

well I guess I'll make my own way,

It's a circle, I mean cycle,

I cant excite you anymore"

The crowd ruptured as they recognized the song, already bouncing and singing along with the music. Dick let out a breathless laugh of disbelief, hearing these kids perform a song; and do it so well! The energy even through the slightly distorted recording was electric, and he could clearly see how much fun the group was having. Cassie and Kon bounced off of each other up in front, leaning close to sing the chorus together.

"Well you treat me just like

Another stranger, well,

its nice to meet you, sir

I guess I'll go,

I best be on my way out"

Bart hammered into his drums like it was what he was made to do, mouthing along as Cassie took lead with each lyric. Tim was focused, yet clearly enamored with his friends, as he glanced up between chords with a big grin on his face. Show lights illuminated their figures like it was a movie, and Dick didn't even realize the song was over until Cassie stopped singing and the people screamed and bravo-ed.

The group heaved big grins and said their thank you's, reaching for the waters they brought out on stage with them before saying a couple words in-between. it was so professional, like they had been born to do this. They certainly looked like it.

A handful more songs went by; most sung by Cassie but a couple by Kon, who fared pretty well in the vocal category himself. Songs like Pretty Fly (For A White Guy) by The Offspring, Spiderwebs By No Doubt, Cruel To Be Kind By Letters To Cleo; All songs that spoke to the group like it were their anthems. Bart got pretty fired up for Lump By The Presidents Of The United States of America, and Tim was bobbing along a bit more to My Own Worst Enemy By Lit. Each track as if off their own playlists.

Dick felt more than impressed by these kids; he was proud. He should've seen a show, he wanted to see a show! The whole family would've been more that excited to go. He could practically see Bruce's 'proud Dad face' while watching his son playing music he particularly liked. How had they never heard of this side of Timmy Before?

Another round of huge applause broke through the audience after they finished another song. Cassie took a long swing of water before smiling into her mic again. She spoke again once the crowd quieted.

"Thank you guys, thank you! Y'all have been more then amazing tonight, and since we're coming up on our last song, we decided to give you a treat!"

The crowd, although disappointed the show was ending (so was Dick) were excited for the surprise, and cheered for the announcement.

"May I proudly present, our pianist's first song on vocals: Alvin Draper!"

The crowd Erupted with support, and Tim approached Cassie's mic with a dark green guitar and an almost bashful smile. Still, he stood tall, waving and smiling as Kon shook his shoulder playfully.

Dick almost laughed at the use of Tim's alter ego, but also knew it was the safest bet when it came to him having such a public identity as a Wayne and a Drake. It was pretty lucky too their band's get-up was so far off from Tim Drake's public appearances too.

Tim cleared his throat before he spoke into the mic. The whole crowd seemed to go silent to emphasizes they new development in the band.

"Hey everyone. Thanks for sticking it out to the end- have you been having fun so far?" The audience whooped and cheered, Dick was almost compelled to as well. Tim laughed and nodded.

"Perfect! that's awesome." He looked out to the crowd and his gaze narrowed on the camera and Red Tornado. He smiled, something personal and reassured. Dick knows it was probably just Tim finding someone familiar in a crowd of strangers, but he couldn't help but feel it was for him. As if he was looking through the Lens and smiling at his big brother. Dick, smiled back.

"Anyway," Tim focuses back on the crowd. "I picked out a new song I've always wanted to play. I really like it, and I hope you guys do too. Thank you."

The crowd went silent with baited breath, and Tim closed his eyes with a sharp breath, holding onto that moment before he started singing.

"Do you have the time,

to listen to me whine?

About nothing and everything all at once."

His guitar and voice flowed out into the quiet as he owned the space with the beginning of Basket Case By Greenday. Dick had never heard his brother sing before, he didn't know he could, but was blown away with what he heard. His tone was clear and true as he sang, he could even hear the driving cadence of his public speaking voice. It had the audience on a hook.

"Sometimes I give myself the creeps,

Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me,

It all keeps heading up,

I think I'm cracking up."

Bart's drums came in like a cannon as the song ramped up, along with Kon's own guitar and Cassie's bass. The crowd followed suit, dissolving into cheers when the beat dropped and the music was in full swing. Tim opened his eyes and beamed at the positive reaction, never faltering in his singing or guitar while Kon was on backup, the group moving as one.

Dick was in awe. The excitement on Tim's face was everything. He nodded along with his own song, grinning and glancing at Cassie and Kon who shared in his excitement. That was the look Dick had been missing from Tim: His exuberance, his passion. It made him smile so broadly; filling with pride for his little brother.

"Gasping to control,

So I better hold on,"

The music and performance filled Dick's senses, Mind twirling and thinking of ideas and questions he could ask Tim about. Could he even ask Tim about this? would he dignify Dick's queries with a response or was there a reason he kept everything about this part of himself in a box on in the attic? Out of sight, out of mind, as Bruce would say.

"What are you watching??"

A voice broke him out of his spiral.

Dick screamed something a little too high pitch and all but punched the tape player to eject the tape, video clicking off with static. Dick looked over his shoulder, realizing the rather strange position he had been found in by a very baffled-looking Jason leaning against the doorframe. He was in his red hood getup, the helmet resting between his hip and forearm as he took in Dick sitting scarily close to the screen of the old TV.

"What are you doing here?!" Dick asked, tone accusing as if he was the one who caught Jason doing something weird.

"The cat wanted to get in." Jason shrugged, gesturing down. Dick's eyes followed, meeting Alfred the cat's intense gaze a couple feet away from him.

"You traitor." Dick hissed, betrayed by his own blood.

Alfred meowed back, clearly smug. Dick frowned in betrayal. Traitor.

Jason started back, unimpressed. "Is this where you've been? what are you doing?"

Dick looked up again, expression falling as he tried to gather his excuse.

"Uh.. Would you believe me if i said Jersey Shore?"

Jason's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Hell no."

"okay, uuhm..'"

Jason grumbled something incoherent, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

"Whatever man, I don't even wanna know."

Dick nodded. "It'd be hard to explain anyway."

Jason pushed off the doorway with a grunt, turning away to throw his last words over his shoulder.

"Bruce was looking for you since, y'know, patrol was supposed to start 20 minutes ago."

"What!?" Dick looked around for a clock, couldn't find one, and settled on scrambling to stand up with a string of curses. Before he could get very far, however, he was met head-first with a flying suit. More specifically, his suit.

Dick tugged it off, looking down at the sleek fabric in his hands. Jason's cackle made him look up, finding a shit eating grin sitting well on his lips.

"Dude, I'm joking,"

It was Dick's turn to look unimpressed, even when his shoulders relaxed with relief. He gave a sarcastic smile before shoving Jason's shoulder and ducking out of the room.

"Hah. Hah. Very funny."

Jason's grin didn't falter as he lagged behind.

"It was just 5."

Dick started sprinting down the hall, followed by an echo of Jason cracking up.

"Fuck you!"

-

Gotham was colder tonight than it had been in a while. Its buildings and skyline were the same, only now edged with a bite of frost or the occasional sprinkle of snow. Especially on one of the taller buildings of the city, the group of vigilantes hung close together before they needed to be dispersed; like a large flock of birds stationed on a wire.

Dick rubbed his hands together, rolling on the balls of his feet as Batman was going over tonight's routes. Dick should be listening to his own, or he should be learning how to actually stay warm instead of rubbing his gloved hands together like it worked. He really should be focused on anything else, but instead, he was focused on Young Just Us.

He needed to know more, to ask Tim every question under the sun about his double- triple? -life. Better yet; he wanted to know if it could ever happen again; the excitement and passion that came from Young Justice performing, from Tim performing. It was a side of his brother that he never knew, but he was gonna get the chance too. Or at least, he was gonna try.

Dick glanced in Tim's direction a couple times already, as if trying to tell him telepathically he knew what Tim knew. Tim, who was leaning against his staff with all the grace of a bored college student, didn't seem to be catching his brainwaves. He'd ask Oracle about mind communication later. For now, Dick just had to find a way to talk to Tim without making it seem suspicious; Tim would clam up automatically about his personal life if approached the wrong way. Dick just had to be subtle about it; calm and collected.

Just then, Dick caught the tail end of Bruce's pre-mission lecture. He turned to face the rest of the group after brooding the instruction into the night. Like a shadow, he straightened, eyes sweeping the group and taking in the head count of the 6 total there, Duke went home to sleep for his shift in the day.

"-and it'd be good to spread out tonight. Even if it's quiet, we'll pick off the smaller scuffles we come across." Bruce paused for the chorus of agreement, then nodded stiffly. "Are any of you moving in pairs?"

Dick almost gasped, his chance perfectly set! dick's hand shot up like he was being asked to volunteer in a magic show.

"I'm with Tim!"

yeah, Dick thought. real subtle.

All the heads turned like owls, startled by the outburst. Tim himself squinted, unsure if he was more baffled or concerned he was the one being called out. Dick froze in the silence, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Damian crossed his arms and scoffed before Dick could try and explain.

"Impossible, Richard. I'm already going with Drake, we decided before leaving."

Snapping out of his confusion, Tim nodded, straightening his posture from his pole only to place one hand on his hip.

"Yeah, we were gonna see if that Japanese place on 15th Street gave discounts."

"I checked last week. "Cass piped in. "They don't."

"really? damn."

Richard stepped closer with an innocent smile, reaching to wrap an arm around Tim's shoulder, pulling him closer. Tim gave a skeptical frown, but didn't pull away.

"Well then I guess you're good! I'll take Tim. you can partner up with Jason."

Damian's white eyes narrowed, reading the suspicious behavior with an open scowl. He reached out too, taking Tim's arm and pulling him back.

"I do not want, Jason. I already planned with Tim."

" What's wrong with Jason??" Jason called from the side. Steph patted his shoulder sympathetically.

Dick tried again, Pulling Tim closer, who made a sound equivalent to a grumble. He looked down at his babiest brother, eyes pleading.

"pleassee, Dami. it's important. I'll owe you one."

Damian's expression held strong, eyes narrowing impossibly smaller. He looked at Tim, who shrugged helplessly. He glanced in Bruce's direction, looking for support. Bruce, who hadn't said a word yet, gave his best 'dad' stare he could through the cowl; a clear look that told them to hurry it up. Finally, Damian kissed his teeth, relinquishing his hold on the other Robin's arm. He spun around with a flare of his cape.

"Come on, Todd." He grunted, already pushing off the side with a grapple in his hand, swinging away.

Jason followed with a sigh. "Love ya too, bud." He grappled away after the other.

Bruce grunted, watching his sons head out with no other discernible expression other than a sliver of confusion. He looked to the four remaining, clearing his throat.

"uh.. we'll just meet back at the cave then. Stay safe." He pulled a hand out of his cloak, then grappled away into the night.

Dick turned to look at Cass and Steph, both standing scarily still and observant. Dick could feel the skepticism in their gaze- though Steph's eyes were more twinkling with mirth than anything. After a long pause of the duos staring at each other, Stephanie raised her hand.

"So would if I wanted to work with Tim tonight?-"

Dick grabbed Tim by the back of his cape, dragging him to the other edge of the building.

"We're leaving."

Dick could hear them laughing as he dragged Tim off the roof. Two grapples sped off from their falling figures until they hooked on a nearby building's roof, swinging them safely to the next.

Predictably, Tim waited till they had gone a little while swinging until he started to question Dick.

"So.. You gonna tell me what all that was about?"

Dick soared next to Tim, letting go of his own line at the right time to grin back then fire his next one.

"Can't I just want to spend time with you?"

Tim copied his swing movements, but glared back, unbelieving to the core.

'No. Not like this at least. I thought you of all people would be happy Damian and I were partnering up."

Dick sniffled at the thought, quickly nodding.

"Oh I was, trust me. Hurt me to my core to pull you two apart after all your growth."

"Then why did you?"

Dick let go and dropped down onto a building below, rolling to catch his fall and springing back up. Tim followed suit, landing right next to him with a puzzled brow.

To his own surprise, Dick hesitated. When he looked down at Tim's analytical eye, he found it hard to find the right words. Shifting on his feet, his scratched his jaw in thought. He just had to stay subtle..

"Tim… You know you can talk to me, right? about anything."

Tim's face seemed to stone, jaw tightening and brows furrowed like they did when things got real.

"That sounds serious." He grunted.

Wrong choice of words. Dick waved his hands. "No, No! It's not like that, nothing bad. I mean like.. Interests, passions!"

Tim's posture relaxed at the reassurance, though his expression was still confused. he nodded, but thought for a moment, hand under his chin and wind ruffling his hair.

"I tell you about my photography," Tim said. "and my skateboarding. I took you to that coffee shop across from my Skate park, like, a month ago."

Dick did remember that. He almost broke his hip after saving some kid's board that rolled across the street. But he wasn't thinking about that, and obviously Tim wasn't understanding what he was trying to put down.

He sighed, putting his hands together in front of his face before pushing them out.

"Yes, and those muffins were lovely, but I'm talking like… things you did when you were, a uh.."

"Punk." Tim supplied.

Dick almost beamed, eyes widening. "Huh?"

Tim was looking down, into the alleyway the building sat by. He pointed.

"there's a bunch of punks down there."

Dick blinked, stepping closer to the edge. Sure enough, there was a group of thugs down there, cornering a Grandma and a little boy.

"Oh. It wasn't.. yeah we should probably handle that."

Tim nodded, pulling his staff from his back and popping it out.

"It's like it's our job or something."

The duo dropped down from the roof like spiders, though Tim landed first behind the group with an intentional thud. The group of muggers all seemed to turn look back in sync. Tim addressed the situation; 2 civilians, 5 thugs, 2 had switch blades and 1 a bat. it was hard not to laugh at the cartoony-ness in their appearances.

"Picking on the elderly? God, how cliche can you get?"

The one closest to Tim bristled, tightening his grip on the bat before charging at him. Tim blocked the swing with his staff, pushing the thug back enough to sweep a leg underneath him.

Before the rest of the group could team up on him, Dick landed on the dumpster behind the old lady and the boy in a crouch.

"Hey, let's not judge too hard. Everyone's gotta start somewhere, right?'"

Dick launched off the dumpster, leaping into the air with a flip and landing a kick to one's face. They tumbled to the group with a groan.

"Of course, they gotta stop somewhere, too."

He looked back to the civilians, expression softened to his usual Nightwing charm. "You two okay?"

The boy nodded in awe, holding onto his grandma tightly who looked more than a little shaken. He was a brave kid, putting himself in front of her in the face of something dangerous.

"Nightwing!" Tim called in time for Dick to look back around. Another thug came in, running into Dick with a full tackle, Knife at the ready. Dick caught the brunt of his force and was pushed a foot back with a grunt, angling his stomach away from the outward pointed weapon.

"Hey man, take it easy! This ain't a mosh pit." Dick was reminded right then. oh right, Young Just Us.

With a big breath, he moved one hand that was holding back knife guy number one to his hand with the switchblade, prying it up so it wasn't in major artery stabbing distance. Then, he brought up his right knee to his gut, making the goon double over. He jumped over that guy to help Tim with the two flanking him.

"Anyway, like I was saying, you really can talk to me about anything."

Tim groaned, swinging his Bo staff into one thug and kicking another in the chest over to Dick.

"Really? You wanna do this now??"

"I'm Serious!" Dick promised, Dodging a punch while trying to make eye contact with Tim. "If there's anything you wanna get off your chest, or trust me with, I'm here! Because I'll already know!"

Tim turned, trying to kick his thug down while he slashed his box cutter around. He glanced back at Dick with utter confusion.

"What do you know?!"

Dick grumbled something stressed, moving until he was back to back with Tim. After tazing his own thug with the escrima stick, Dick spun around, taking Tim by the shoulders to turn him around and keep him there. Tim looked at him, along with the equally confused alley, until Dick blurted out;

"I just ... I know what you are!!"

Everyone paused; Grandma gasped, the groans from the incapacitated grunts on the ground stopped, even the last standing thug, stared at Dick like like he'd grown a second head. Dick himself froze, hearing how bad that came out.

Tim looked practically appalled, the whites of his mask stretched wide.

"..WHAT!?"

"dude.." Knife guy number one gaped, staring from his crumpled spot on the pavement."Did you just.. out Red Robin?"

Dick's head swiveled hard, shaking his head trying to explain. "No! no, that did not come out right!"

The thug behind Tim had the absolute gall to speak in a disappointed tone. "damn, Nightwing, I…I didn't know you were like that.."

Dick swiveled again, moving past the still stunned Tim to reassure a criminal of all people. "I'm not! I couldn't be! I-I love the homosexuals!"

Grandma gasped again, the little boy next to her shook his head. Dick really couldn't catch a break tonight.

Tim broke out of his stunned state as Dick went over to reassure the family he wasn't homophobic, quietly calibrating a plan. A half a second passed, then the air was sliced, a Bird-a-rang moving across half the alleyway and pinning the last thug to the wall, to the surprise of everyone.

Dick looked back as Tim cleared his throat, regaining the group's attention. He stepped forward, putting a hand a Dick's shoulder reassuringly.

"Nightwing.. I'll walk these two back, why don't you call the cops?"

Even if his tone was professional, everything in Tim's expression said to stop talking. Dick didn't have to be a genius to figure out the look behind his mask. They'd definitely talk about that later.

Dick sighed and nodded, letting the two civilians pass so Tim could lead them out. "Yeah, 'll call them.. because I stand by every minority in Gotham city!"

He called out that last part as they were leaving. He saw the small sigh Tim let out through his teeth and the concerned looks from grandma and the boy before they rounded the corner. Dick wasn't ready for the 'Nightwing is a homophobe' allegations that would most definitely be floating around after tonight, but he still moved, grappling up the wall and back out into the night.

About a half an hour passed before Tim met up with Dick again. He came back to the building the whole family had gathered on before dispersing, just tall enough in the Gotham skyline where it was out of the way of civilians and perfect for conversations deemed more personal. It was above Old Gotham as well, less neon lights and more gargoyles, but as private and peaceful you could get when perusing the skyscrapers.

Dick was sat on the edge, one leg dangling off the side as he stared down at his home city's twinkling lights. The quiet zip of a grappling hook was all the tell he needed of Tim's arrival before he plopped down next to him with a heavy sigh, drawing one knee up to his chest while the other draped over the side like Dick's, a mirror to one another.

A surprisingly tense moment passed, one Dick didn't know what to do with. Was Tim really upset with him? annoyed? Dick spared a glance in his direction, though he couldn't read much from the bad angle. What he did see, however, was Tim reaching up and pressing the side of his mask. Tim turned off his comms.

While Dick took the hint and turned off his own, he was reminded that they had been on all night, and Bab's had probably heard all of that excruciating miscommunication during the scuffle. He groaned internally, now faced with allegations and blackmail, Dick was on a roll of subtly tonight.

"So.." Tim finally spoke, voice subdued as silence stretched. Dick held his breath.

"…You know I'm gay, huh?" Tim glanced at Dick, a smug smile replacing his stony expression in a split of a second.

Dick let out external groan, though relieved Tim didn't sound at all upset. He shoved him lightly, running a hand down his face.

"Shut up, I didn't mean to say it like that and you know it. Now all of Gotham's gonna think I'm secretly bigoted."

"I mean, the evidence is stacked against you." Tim supplied. Dick shoved him again and they laughed. The tension fizzled out and left only the type of comfort only Tim and Dick had. Tim shifted though, cheek pressed against his knee and whited out eyes looking up at his brother, expecting.

"What..do you know then? you've been acting strange all night, you clearly got something to tell me."

Dick froze carefully, meeting Tim's ever observant eyes. He probably should've just come out and asked instead of dancing around it for the sake of Tim coming to him willingly. The thought hurt Dick a little more than it should've, knowing Tim had either hid or not even bothered to show Dick something he was obviously passionate about so many years ago. Tim was private, wasn't he? He kept a lot of things to himself, now more than ever. Maybe Tim had never wanted to bring it up.

Or maybe Dick hadn't even bothered to ask.

He sighed. He shouldn't dwell on old misunderstandings when what he should be doing is right in front of him. All he wanted was to not scare Tim away, but it seemed he'd have to try a different tactic all together. One he was definitely more affiliated with.

"I should've just asked you about it after dinner." He shook his head, smile tugging on his lips even with the twist in his stomach.

"I know…. that you're a Rock Star."

Tim made a face, brows scrunching as he tried to place his words.

"What?"

Dick breathed.

"Young, Just Us?"

Another silence passed, but Dick could see the moment it clicked in Tim's expression. The slack of his tensed jaw, the raise of his eyebrows that almost touched his hair line. He raised his head, opened his mouth, then closed it. Even if Dick had miscalculated his approach in telling Tim, he could recognize his expressions anywhere. The way he paused and took in whatever information he had been given before asking questions was given away by his far away look and the lip worried between his teeth. That particular habit became so bad that Dick had forced him to start using ChapStick so his lips would stop bleeding in colder months.

"..The one with the comma..?"

Tim turned his head, looking back at Dick. He words were hushed, careful, like it was a secret about to pass. To him, it probably was.

Dick sighed, then smiled awkwardly, nodding his head slow.

"The one with the comma." He repeated.

If Tim was calm and calculating before, it was thrown out the window for the sake of answers. he turned, facing Dick with an incredulous expression.

"How did you find out??"

"I found a box full of tapes and trinkets when we were up in the attic earlier." Dick confessed, running a hand through his hair as he laid the truth out. "I didn't know who's they were until I started watching the tapes after dinner, and then it all kinda fell into place."

It stretched again, the silence of putting the pieces together. Dick was almost sure Tim would give him something complicated; a hushed, maybe detached explanation to why they were kept hidden, or how actually that band had seen sinister, evil things disguised as concerts or the fun of childhood, just like half the other things he'd been apart of in his vigilante years. Every part he refused to talk about.

And, to Tim's credit, he did. He gave something so incredibly complicated.

He gave Dick laughter.

It startled small, but soon Tim was practically in hysterics. Dick stared in muted confusion as Tim broke into a full blown cackle; bright faced and shoulders shaking from the motion. The confession seemed to tickle him so much that one hand reached to hold his stomach. Dick didn't find it nearly as hilarious, he looked downright concerned.

"What- What is it?? did I say something wrong?"

Tim, still laughing, shook his head quickly. His hand found dick's shoulder in a reassuring squeeze, and he composed himself enough to just smile humorously.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, just-" He breathed again, glancing from Dick to the skyline with a look that was almost reminiscent.

"You just caught me off guard. I haven't thought about YJU in… a while." Tim's voice dipped in a way that seemed he was only now coming to that realization himself. He shifted, letting both legs dangle off the building and leaning back on his hands so he faced the city.

Dick's shoulders dropped in relief, nodding. He didn't seem upset at all, at least not in the way Dick expected. No walls put up, no redirecting of questions or glares that spoke a thousand words. Just Tim, who seemed deep in thought about his rock band already. Dick took it as an opportunity to ask about it himself. He copied his brother's posture.

"A while, huh?"

Tim nodded. "Mhm. about.. 5 years?"

Dick held in a breath. 5 years ago. Has it really been that long? He remembered how little Tim seemed in the video, how taken aback he was seeing that little kid's face again. Looking at the young man in front of him now, the brilliant, kind, and endlessly impressive hero he had become, it couldn't be clearer how much time had passed. It hurt his heart just a little.

"5 years.." He repeated, voice drifting in the crisp breeze. Dick's head raced with the questions he had been preparing all night. Now, it was hard to find his voice at all.

"Were you hiding it in the attic for any specific reason?" Dick mustered, taking in Tim's profile for any shift in his expression. "You've never mentioned it before, so I just thought.."

Tim's lips tightened in thought with the slightest twitch in his jaw. Dick picked up on the hesitation.

"I wasn't trying to hide it," Tim's voice lowered, grounding the conversation into something more personal in its solidarity. "I just never thought to bring it up."

Dick's brow knitted together, an almost incredulous expression twitching on his lips. he leaned in, shoulder nudging Tim's.

"You never thought of it? Timbo, please. How do you never mention something like that?"

Tim gave a startled shrug, avoiding Dick's attempt at eye contact. "It was for a mission, Dick. You're making it sound like it was a huge deal."

Dick practically scoffed at that. "It looked like it was! You were practically the second coming of Greenday."

Tim gave his own scoff in return, a wry smile breaking through his nonchalant facade. "What was i supposed to say? 'Hey Bruce and Dick, my newly appointed employer and mentor! Wanna come see me play keys in this sick rock band I'm in?? It's with all the other teen heroes you don't like!'"

"Yes!" A smile of Dick's own came across as he exclaimed, though it was more gobsmacked at Tim's oblivious attitude. "Bruce would've bought out the entire front row if you asked us to come, even then."

Tim's face pulled into something more sheepish, not wanting to acknowledge how correct the statement probably was. It wouldn't have been out of the ordinary, Dick thought; Bruce always tried to support his family when it came to hobbies and interests, how would Tim's music be any different?

Still, Tim looked reluctant to reply, eyes falling to the streets below again.

"Well I didn't know that before. I was still new to Robin, still figuring out my place with Bruce." Dick knew a lot about that, too. It wasn't as hostile as most assumed, but Tim's early relationship with Bruce started with a lot of apprehension for each other. Bruce was terrified of bringing another kid into an early grave, and Tim was too stubborn to leave Bruce alone in his own self sabotaging ways without at least trying to do something about it. Evidently, Tim succeeded. The attempted distance Bruce tried to put between the two crumbled after Tim found his way past it and into their dad's heart, but the tension had existed. Apparently, it had to have existed long enough for that type of hesitation to grow in Tim's psyche.

In Dick's opinion, Bruce saw Tim as family the moment he started training with him; Tim had just been impressively bad at picking up on how much Bruce cared about him until it was blatantly spelled out.

"Besides," Tim continued, glossing over Dick's train of thought and the ability to bring up the last topic. "I didn't really have the opportunity to bring it up. When we had gotten back from 'touring' we were all thrown into so many missions, there Jason came back and we were dealing with all that, and then Dad…" He sighed, trailing off. The implication was enough. "I just couldn't find a good time too."

It was an unfortunate thing. Any chance Tim would've had of telling anyone about his part-time rock career were overturned by different priorities and dangers; it's kinda hard to talk about your interests with someone when the world was ending. Dick nodded in understanding.

A breath of quiet passed between the two, letting the vigilantes settle with the conclusion Dick had been looking for. Tim kept his eyes to the streets, probably trying to ignore the empathetic glances Dick had spared him. Dick still couldn't get the thought out of his head that he could've known about this sooner; supported his brother better. Not just through the bad, but through the good as well.

Maybe those thoughts were tied to other places of regret, and maybe there were different ways he had failed to notice or repair before. But maybe…

Maybe there was a way to do that now.

"Could you tell me about it now?"

Tim froze, like that was the last thing he had expected Dick to ask. He looked up at Dick with the whites of his eyes like saucers. Dick's lip twitched with familiar affection.

"You want to know? Tim murmured, every inch of his expression surprised by Dick's curiosity. Another hint of how genuine Tim could be. Dick nodded eagerly in response, not strong enough to keep his smile off his lips.

"Of course! I wouldn't have asked you about it if I didn't."

"even when it was like, 5 years ago?"

Dick bumped his shoulder against Tim's expression soft and inviting. "Especially when it was 5 years ago. I'm sorry you never got the chance to share this before, but I'm here to listen now. I want to listen now, if you're comfortable with sharing, that is."

Tim stared for a long while, taking in the offer, the apology, everything Dick was offering. Before Dick could get too worried and ask if he went into shock, He saw one of the warmest expressions he could remember. Infectious and kind; Tim Drake's smile.

"yeah-..yeah! thanks Dick, I.. I'd love to tell you about it. what do you wanna know?"

Dick beamed back. Mission accomplished. With a groan for his aging knees, he pushed himself to stand on the edge of the roof. He held a hand out for Tim to hoist himself up.

"Let's head back to the manor, first. I Wanna show you the tapes and other things I found."

Tim nodded, smile barely tampered as he grabbed his grapple from his belt.

"Sounds fine to me; You think B will be okay with us ditching?"

Dick brushed that off with a wave of his hand, the other moving up to turn his comms back on.

"Nah, I'll get O to excuse it."

Barbara, now tuned into the conversation, was quick to take notice of their arrival back into the channels and assumed need for excuses.

"What am I excusing? " Her quizzical tone crackled through Dick's earpiece. Tim took notice and turned his own back on. "also what are you doing? it's been radio silence for the past 15 minutes from the both of you knuckleheads."

Dick laughed, turning around to walk away from the edge of the building. "Brotherly bonding." He filled in, much to the mild exasperation of the hero on the other side. He turned around, grabbing his own grapple stick from his back.

"In fact; we've just had a breakthrough! Mind if we take the rest of the night to evaluate that?"

"Congratulations; can't you evaluate that in the field?"

"Not to the best of our ability, no." Tim snickered, backing up himself and tapping something into his wrist watch.

"B's gonna be in a mood for the rest of the night when he finds out." Bab's tone gradually became more amused.

"Oh, I think he'll learn to forgive us. I'll make him a card."

A pause for dramatic effect stretched between the city noise and breezy skies. Finally, a long suffering sigh came from the other side of his comms. Dick smiled triumphantly, already thanking her.

"I expect teamwork to be through the roof tomorrow if you need to bond that much." She spoke over Tim's laughing and Dick's gratitude.

"Thank you, Babs. You are a queen among women."

"Yeah, yeah," She laughed. the sound of a keyboard typing already filling the space. "Just deal with that museum robbery about a block away before you guys sign off."

Dick made a confused face and glanced and Tim who shrugged in equal confusion.

"Uhh.. what Museum robbery?"

As if the universe was laughing as well, The sound of glass breaking and an alarm going off was heard off in the distance, sharp and wailing. Dick sighed and Babs laughed along with the universe.

Tim groan was more amused than anything, cracking his neck in preparation. "No rest for the wicked." Babs hummed in agreement.

"Okay- stop robbery, then brotherly bonding." Dick stretched his arm across his chest, then shifted his weight into a running position.

"Appreciate the flexibility." Babs fit in one last quip before Red Robin and Nightwing got back to work. With a running start, the brothers pushed off the side of the Gothic Gotham building with grapples at the ready and whoops of joy. With the rush of air and the weightless feeling of swinging through the night, Dick had a feeling this Rocker's story was turning around for the better, a story he had no intention on missing out on.