AN: Title is not-so-subtly inspired by Bon Jovi's "Who Says You Can't Go Home?"

I cannot pretend I know the DC universe well. What I tried to do here was overlay what I know about the Batman timeline with that of the Teen Titans cartoon. So…this is set in a time where Tim Drake has yet to appeal to Dick Grayson about returning to Batman's side as Robin. But that is happening. Soon. In the Teen Titans show, Dick Grayson is obviously not Nightwing yet, but I figure he will find the perfect reason to finally become Nightwing once Tim Drake becomes Robin.

Red X, of course, is Jason Todd, who has yet to become Red Hood. He's on that path, though, undoubtedly. He was killed in a bomb explosion, no thanks to the Joker, and was brought back to life via Lazarus Pit. I like to think he was "experimenting" as Red X before settling into his Red Hood identity.

Dick Grayson has left Batman's side because Bruce wanted Dick to stop being Robin after the Joker shot and injured him. Dick said, "nuh-uh, Robin is me and I am Robin" and peaced out to find his own path outside of Bruce's influence (which is how we find him in the Titans origin episode). Bruce and Dick's relationship is a bit rocky because of this.

All that being said, I guess this is AU? I don't know. All I know is that I fell in love with Dick Grayson through Young Justice, and because I found SO many opportunities for Bat-fam feels in Teen Titans (because Batman/Gotham is mentioned maybe TWICE in the whole show?), this was born.

Part One

The phone was ringing.

Again.

Beast Boy grimaced and eyed the phone with disdain. If Robin was going to insist they keep a civilian landline when they had a perfectly fine, state-of-the-art communication system in their living room, the very least he could do was answer the damn thing when it rang. Or maybe even allow someone else to answer it, if disconnecting it wasn't an option.

Robin, however, had taken one brief look at the caller ID that morning, and, rolling his eyes, put the phone back in its dock.

"Who is it?" Cyborg had grunted carelessly as he cracked open an energy drink and flopped down on the couch. He sounded like a zombie. In fact, Beast Boy felt like a zombie, and the others certainly looked the part, too.

The past week and a half had been hellish, no thanks to Red X's sudden and random aspiration to become a gang boss. The thief's motivations for organizing the leaders of Jump City's most prominent drug rings were still a mystery to them, even after Robin's obsessive detective work. How Red X had managed to get as far as he did in such a short amount of time was an even greater mystery to Beast Boy, one that captivated him much of the week.

It still intrigued him, truth be told, if only because the whole situation offered fodder for several…theories Beast Boy had.

But that was neither here nor there.

Regardless of the whys and hows, the Titans had jumped into the mission headfirst, and it had taken them multiple late nights to research, infiltrate, and then bust the entire operation. It had taken several more to ensure it all stayed busted, and in the end, though it obviously pained him to do so, Robin had to call off the search for Red X, who'd slipped away during one commotion or another, as though made of shadow.

(Needless to say, the mission had taken its toll, and motivation and patience were hard to come by in Titans Tower that day.)

"Who could it be?" Raven had asked in a bland voice.

"The police are most befuddled after recent events," Starfire had said. "Do they not have…their fill of hands?"

"Hands full," Cyborg had corrected. "I bet they wish they had more hands right about now. Anyway, if it was the JCPD, they'd contact us through the main comm."

"Perhaps it's just a prank call," Beast Boy had suggested through a yawn, lifting his head from his folded arms. "It wouldn't be the first time."

(None of them would put it past Kid Flash or Speedy to try to get the better of Robin. They reveled in the challenge.)

"Don't worry about it, guys," Robin had said with surprising levity and cheer. "It's no one important. Just ignore it."

Despite his light tone, he had still somehow managed to diffuse all further questions. Perks of being a Bat. Or a leader. Whichever. The others had shrugged, and that had been the end of that.

Or so Beast Boy had thought.

The caller—and it must have been the same caller—was persistent and only became more persistent as the afternoon ticked on.

"Let it ring," Robin had reminded them.

Even the distraction of mind-numbing video games couldn't prevent Cyborg and Beast Boy from beginning to give each other exasperated looks whenever the phone rang, each of them wondering who would crack and disobey their leader's orders first. When sheer laziness won out, they eventually turned a pleading gaze to the others, but Raven had long since retreated to her room. Starfire was also out of the running: she flitted around the kitchen without a care in the world, humming along to the phone's ringtone as she prepared some ghastly Tamaranean casserole that smelled like rotten eggs and garlic. Robin himself couldn't be bothered. He had withdrawn into his own little world, the wide desk before him illuminated by no less than three computer screens and littered with reports detailing their recent mission. The guy had an uncanny ability to block all extraneous noise when he was focused, and Beast Boy envied him that.

The ear-grating jingle ceased, and for a moment, Beast Boy stared at the phone on the counter, waiting for the inevitable. When silence reigned for a full thirty seconds, he sighed in relief.

"'nother round, BB?" Cyborg asked, gesturing to the screen with his Wii controller.

Beast Boy took a gulp of his Red Bull and smacked his lips. "You're on, Rust-Bucket!"

"Ohhhhh-ho-ho. Those are fighting words, Grass Stain! You're going down now!"

Sensing an opportunity to up the stakes, Beast Boy grinned. "You wanna bet a large Choco-Choco milkshake on tha—are you freakin' kidding me!?"

The caller had dared to dial their number again.

With a growl, Beast Boy turned and half-morphed into a falcon as he sprang over the end of the couch, swiftly gliding up to the phone and transforming back to swipe it from its dock. He pushed the answer button with far more force than necessary.

"Alright, dude," Beast Boy said into the receiver. "I don't care who you are, but you need to stop calling, like, every two minutes." That was an exaggeration, but even still: this guy was being the definition of obnoxious. "We've had a rough few days, and a moment of peace would be appreciated. Try again tomorrow."

"…I beg your par—?"

Beast Boy hung up, unable to muster the energy to feel guilty about the affronted tone on the other end. When he faced the room again, Cyborg was smirking at him. "I knew you'd cave first," he said.

Throwing a glance at Robin, who was still in muttering to himself and frowning at some code on one of his computer screens, Beast Boy sighed. "Seriously, though," he grumbled. "Who does this guy think he is, anyway?"

Cyborg grunted in response, and after Beast Boy settled back on the couch, they bickered over characters and maps before finally starting a game.

Beast Boy didn't waste time once the clock started. Cyborg's charge-first-ask-questions-never approach always managed to bite him in the ass, leaving him open to long-range attacks, and he took full advantage, using Link's boomerang to stun his opponent. While Donkey Kong was "recovering," Link rushed him, rolling to slash with his sword from behind.

Too. Easy.

Cyborg snarled and barely had time to retaliate with a Spinning Kong attack before the screen went inexplicably black.

The boys blinked in astonishment before screeching wordlessly, indignant that their Brawl would be interrupted like—

The Titans emblem flashed on screen, in green. It pulsed gently, the ringing tone far kinder on the ears than that of the landline.

"…green?" Beast Boy asked aloud, in surprise.

After getting hacked (again), their communications system, recently redesigned by Cyborg and Robin in collaboration with the best and brightest minds of the Justice League, was only accessible to super important individuals who'd been entrusted a super special security code. The law enforcement officials and workers of Jump City had clearance to call, as did the Titans' allies, who ranged from the Titans East to the Green Lantern Corps. Codes scrambled and updated at random, and calls were filtered and categorized accordingly.

Most callers were well aware that the Tower's system was meant to be used for debriefings, information-gathering, emergencies, and requests for backup. Superhero-y things, obviously. As such, Beast Boy was far more familiar with yellow, orange, and red priority calls.

Green, though? Priority green was a rarity: it was like the equivalent of a personal Skype call, one that required a secure and safe line for the sake of keeping secret identities and other sensitive information…well, secret.

Beast Boy's stomach knotted as a dark, terrifying suspicion took root in his mind. Had someone in Doom Patrol…?

Heart racing, Beast Boy exchanged a look with Cyborg, who looked both intrigued and concerned. After clearing his throat, Beast Boy anxiously ordered, "Computer, answer."

Tense as a coiled spring, he waited for the call to connect, and because he expected a video feed to pop up, it took several seconds for him to realize the caller had elected to forgo video and was waiting for a response. "Um…hello?" he said belatedly.

"Good day," came a prim voice. For a glorious moment, Beast Boy was flooded with relief—thank the stars it wasn't Mento—but upon recognizing the British accent, his gut rolled again, dipping into a free-fall.

This was the guy he'd just hung up on. No doubt about it. There was an unmistakable note of disapproval and irony in the man's voice that was hard to forget, one that made Beast Boy feel like…like Gar again, a boy he'd long since left behind in Africa, a boy who would take in every stray he found and one who would wrestle with the dogs in the mud and who always got underfoot whenever his parents were working.

There was a sudden crash, and Beast Boy whipped around to see Robin standing, his chair overturned on the floor. His face drained of blood, and he stared at the screen with a look of dawning horror.

The caller did not wait for the frozen Titans to exchange any pleasantries. "I hope you can assist me, Master Beast Boy."

…Master?! And hey, hang on, this guy knew his voice well enough to identify him by name? Who the fu…?

"Who calls?" Starfire asked, floating over from the kitchen.

"And how…um…can we help?" Cyborg added.

"Ah. Good day. I am in search of Master Ro—"

Robin hissed a curse under his breath, and he launched himself across the room, scrambling over the back of the couch and nearly hurtling face-first into the coffee table in his haste. Beast Boy's jaw dropped, and he stared in utter disbelief. Robin was grace incarnate. He did not simply trip.

What in the world…?

"Hey-eyyyyy, A," Robin drawled, an innocent and sheepish smile—no, that couldn't be right! Robin, one half of the Dynamic Duo, protégé of the Batman and leader of Titans West, sheepish!? No, Beast Boy must be hallucinating.

He turned to Cyborg to see if he was seeing what he was seeing, and judging by the amused and baffled expression on his face, Beast Boy wasn't alone. Starfire hovered behind them, watching Robin with a cocked head.

"I hope that wasn't a crash I just heard, Master Robin."

"Ahh, no, of course not," Robin lied smoothly, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.

Who…Who was this person, even? No, who were either of these people? The person before him wasn't the Robin Beast Boy knew. And this rando British guy calling out of nowhere? What was going on?

Each of the Titans had their reasons for keeping their pasts to themselves, and Robin was no exception. Robin, however, was the first of them, the first young hero, and as such, he was world-famous. Because he was so well-known, there were parts of his past he couldn't even attempt to hide, but that made him that much more protective of the stuff that was still private.

The Titans had learned early on not to so much as mention Batman or Gotham within Robin's earshot. Doing so resulted in a dark glare that sent shivers down the spine. Beast Boy had assumed the moment he met Robin that the Boy Wonder had not left on the best of terms with Batman, and, in his attempt to strike out on his own, wanted as few reminders of his partner—and of those he left behind—as possible.

Beast Boy wasn't so dumb that he couldn't figure out that much: "A" was obviously someone Robin knew well, from before. From Gotham.

But that didn't explain why "A" would call now, of all times. Or why Robin was acting so weird.

Taking another look at Robin's face, Beast Boy amended that thought to 'weirder than normal.'

"What is going on?!" Beast Boy mouthed at Cyborg.

The older teen shook his head, a slow smirk growing on his face.

"Hm. And I suppose you haven't misplaced your mobile either?" A was saying.

"My mobi—? Oh." Robin's face went blank, clearly panicked as he struggled to remember where he put his cell phone. "Um…I haven't misplaced it. It's just not on me right now. I was working on something."

"And your landline?"

"I…uh…I saw the Gotham area code and immediately thought it was Babs, you know…and after the last call, I kinda just…"

"I see."

Robin shuffled, and Beast Boy suddenly realized what was going on here.

Robin was getting chewed out.

That…that was both insanely amusing and just…downright insane.

Beast Boy watched with fascination as Robin's face drained of its remaining color. "Why are you calling, A? Is…Is everyone okay? Has anyone…?" he asked, a strange accent slipping into his voice as he babbled. "Is Babs…B…?"

"Oh, no, Master Robin. The reason for my call isn't quite so dire."

Robin slumped in relief, and with weak humor, he teased, "Considering the amount of times you called today, I would have thought it was very dire."

"Well, if you called home every once and awhile, you would be a bit more 'in-the-know,' as they say," A chastised. "And I wouldn't give you such a fright when I try to get in touch with you out of concern for your well-being."

"Savaaaaaaage," Cyborg chuckled.

Beast Boy had never agreed more, but he wasn't about to voice that aloud. Robin's mood had done a complete one-eighty. The Boy Wonder shut down, his once guileless, endearing expression becoming shadowed and dangerously guarded in the blink of an eye.

This Robin, Beast Boy was far more familiar with, and he wondered if perhaps…he had just met the boy under the mask for the first time.

Despite said mask, Beast Boy knew Robin was suddenly hyperaware of the others' presence in the room. "What's going on?" he asked suspiciously. "Did he put you up to this?"

"…You do me a disservice, my boy," A sighed, sounding both disapproving and, if Beast Boy wasn't mistaken, sad. "I only meant to check in and commend you and the other Titans on a job well done."

The tension in Robin's shoulders loosened, and he sounded guilty when he said, "Oh."

"Oh, indeed. Jump City made it onto the Gotham news this morning. There was some footage of the team, and what I saw was most impressive. I'm proud of you, Master Robin, and I'm not the only one."

Beast Boy's eyes widened as Robin brightened, his entire being alight with joy. He'd never seen Robin so happy, and it was that kind of blinding and addictive sort of happiness, the type that made you happy simply by standing in its vicinity. In the blink of an eye, however, Robin seemed to come back to himself just as a grin threatened to break across his cheeks: his reaction to the praise was smothered by a wry expression, much like a thick storm cloud would stifle the sun's light. "It would be nice if he would say it every once and awhile," Robin muttered under his breath. "To my face."

If A noticed the swing in Robin's mood, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he teased, "…even if you will send me to an early grave if you continue to ignore your mobile."

Some of Robin's gloominess dissipated. A smile touched his lips, warm and genuine, soft even, and he said, "I'll work on it, A. Promise."

"Hm. Masters Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Miss Starfire, I hope you're taking note of his promise. I will leave it to you to ensure he keeps it."

Robin's face flushed as he spluttered, and Cyborg's grin broadened. "You can certainly count on us, A!"

"Oh, yes!" Starfire chimed in. "I have been wondering if Robin was still having the contact with his k'norfkae." Her wide green eyes full of empathy, she bowed her head. "It saddens me to learn he hasn't."

"K'norfkae," Robin repeated dully. "How is it," he grumbled at the massive screen, "that you manage to twist everyone around your little finger within moments of meeting them, A?"

"I can't say I know what you're referring to, Master Robin."

Beast Boy snorted, eliciting a half-hearted glare from Robin.

"Alright," Robin said, "if you're done embarrassing me in front of my friends, I'll just—"

"Not so fast, young man. I know you all must be quite fatigued after the week you've had…" Beast Boy winced at the reminder of his rudeness earlier, his shoulders creeping to his ears. "…but I couldn't help but notice…"

Again, Robin became closed off. "What?" he asked, a little defensively.

"You've lost weight, Master Robin."

Robin's face was priceless. Cyborg started chortling, and he wasn't quite fast enough to stifle his amusement. Contagious things, giggles. Beast Boy couldn't help but join in, his laughter only becoming harder to control as it occurred to him that, of all the things he had seen since joining the Teen Titans, this conversation had to be one of the most absurd.

Robin obviously didn't find it all that funny. "Are…are you kidding me, A?" Robin deadpanned, ignoring Cyborg and Beast Boy as they fed off the hysterics of the other. "You called us to lecture me about my eating habits? Really?"

"I never 'kid' about your health, and do not presume I have forgotten exactly what you're like when you get involved in a case. When was the last time you had a proper meal?"

Beast Boy side-eyed the stack of Chef Boyardee cans and pizza boxes on the kitchen counter, waiting to be recycled. The trash can nearby overflowed with burger wrappers, Styrofoam cups, and cheap ramen and macaroni packets. Damning evidence of their lifestyle was scattered everywhere, and Beast Boy was almost happy the video feed was off, otherwise he was positive A would go off on all of them.

But, yeah, thinking about it now, Beast Boy couldn't remember the last time he saw Robin eat. Most of the food they'd left out for him had been left untouched. Or picked at.

He knew because he and Cyborg usually shared the leftovers.

It was clear Robin didn't remember either. "I've been eating," he muttered in a petulant tone. He sounded like a child, and Beast Boy swallowed a giggle before he could be on the receiving end of a Bat-glare.

"Alright. If that is the case, then when was the last time you had anything remotely resembling a vegetable?"

"I…ah…"

A sighed. "As I thought. I'm shipping the lot of you some homemade meals. Today."

…Homemade meals? What?

Sometimes, the older Titans would cook. Breakfast-for-dinner was a fan favorite courtesy of Cyborg. Raven was a surprisingly good baker, and the one and only time Robin cooked…wow, the guy could whip up a mean potato and veggie stew. And Star? Well, she was the only one who could tolerate the nasty stuff she made.

The days of crime-fighting, report-writing, and training made it difficult to find the time or motivation to prepare full meals, so they fended for themselves, usually. The thought of a real meal—and a homemade one, at that—made nostalgia swell and settle over him, and Beast Boy saw Gar again in his mind's eye, seated at a tiny table, steam rising from the plate before him, a sense of family and love cocooning him in comfort and warmth.

Beast Boy wrenched himself from the memory, the warmth dissipating into the smoke of reality. A sharp pang, radiating through his entire chest, took his breath away, and he shook his head. His family was gone, he reminded himself. The Titans were the only family he had left, unconventional as they were.

Yet this stranger had somehow managed to make him feel…

"Who are you?" Beast Boy whispered.

He didn't have to ask. Not really. He knew.

Yeah, he knew.

Star overheard him, and she placed a kind hand on his shoulder as Robin argued, "A, I can't ask you to—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Master Robin," A scolded. "You're all growing teenagers. You need proper, balanced meals in order to maintain your strength."

"But don't you have enough to do without—?"

A spoke over Robin again. "The meals I send you won't be fresh, per se, but after a bit of heating, even frozen meals will surely be preferable to the rubbish you've no doubt been ingesting."

"Best not argue with him, Robin," Cyborg teased, his eyes dancing. "I certainly wouldn't if I were you. Thank you, A."

Beast Boy echoed Cyborg numbly as Starfire spun in the air, her smile dazzling. "Yes, we give many thanks!" she agreed. "I am most keen to try this 'homemade meals.' Tell me, does it contain meats and cheeses?"

Chuckling, A said, "That it can, Miss Starfire."

Starfire beamed happily, and Robin's gaze swept his team for a moment before he sighed and said, "Do you guys mind if I have the room?"

Cyborg was the first to stand. "Of course, man."

"Oh, we must say goodbye?" Starfire asked. Without waiting for a response, she addressed the screen. "It was a most glorious honor to meet one of Robin's k'norfka! Until we speak again!"

"What she said," Cyborg said. "And thank you again."

As the other two left, Cyborg guffawing as he went, Beast Boy found himself lingering, taking his time to clear the coffee table of his Red Bull cans and potato chip bags.

"Beast Boy," Robin said, eyes darting to the door and back.

"Yeah, I know," he said, shoulders slumping. "I'm going, I'm going." Swallowing, he faced the screen. "A, I'm…I'm sorry for how I answered the phone earlier."

"There is nothing to apologize for. If anything, I am the one who must apologize. I was overzealous, wasn't I?"

Beast Boy couldn't help but smile. "Just a little bit."

"A lot a bit," Robin corrected playfully. "Wow, Beast Boy, what did you do? I don't think I've heard A apologize for anything before. Between him and Batman, I—" He suddenly cut himself off, his smile twisting into a grimace. "Never mind. Will you tell the others I'll come get them when I'm done in here?"

"Sure."

Beast Boy turned to follow Cyborg and Star out the door, only to be halted in his tracks again by A, who said, "Please send my regards to the others as well. I don't believe I expressed how nice it was to finally meet them."

"Gotcha."

"Thank you, Master Garfield."

Beast Boy froze, inhaling sharply enough that he began to choke on spit. His eyes flicked to Robin, who had taken a seat on the couch. The Boy Wonder's head was bowed as he massaged the bridge of his nose, the picture of someone whose most recent dose of caffeine was beginning to wear off.

Which…wasn't exactly the reaction Beast Boy would expect after his given name had just been used aloud, considering he'd never shared it with the others before. And considering how hush-hush Robin was about his own identity.

That could only mean one thing: Robin already knew his name. He probably already knew his whole freaking sob story. Beast Boy wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that, and he tried to process it logically. Any betrayed feelings he had were soon replaced by minor irritation at himself because duh, he was Robin. He was trained by one of the world's best detectives, and if Robin knew Beast Boy's identity, it wasn't too far of a stretch to assume he probably knew everyone's secret I.D.

And by everyone, Beast Boy knew that meant everyone. All the heroes in the biz.

The Dynamic Duo thrived off information, especially the secret kind. It was their currency, and it was their passport. If A was family—because he couldn't be anything else to Robin—then he was undoubtedly privy to the same information they were. He was trusted, respected…loved. And not only by Robin himself but by Batman too, probably.

Beast Boy knew full well that Batman and Robin didn't often let others into their personal lives. A already having a place there? That fact alone was the most telling of them all.

And if A was going out of his way to look after the Titans and praise them for their work…if he wasn't above using a little parental power to make Star smile; to foster Cyborg's big-bro teasing tendencies; to coax the true Robin out from his mask…

…And to maybe even elicit old, long-forgotten memories of what it meant to feel human again…

…Then what could Beast Boy possibly hope to offer but a little trust, respect, and admiration in return?

"…I prefer Gar, actually."

Gar could hear the smile in A's voice. "A fine nickname, Master Gar."