So I'm alive! I haven't given up by a long shot, and I actually have the chapter after next totally finished. I really want to get as far as I can before the show starts up again. So sorry for the inordinately long wait. Not much farther before we return to Timelines #2 and #3, which will be told in tandem, so THEY'LL go fast. Fun times!

Obviously, Season 2 has changed a ton of stuff, but I'll have to stick to the decisions I've already made - namely that Jason and Tim are older than Dick by a couple of years. There's one other change I'm going to make, and that's that in Timeline #2, Wally didn't actually meet Bart. I literally only have to delete a "yet" and one other line to make this happen, but it gives me a solution to what I like to call my "effing Bart problem."

And Now the Kingdom Comes

The Story So Far: Nightwing went back in time to save the team from danger during a Yukon mission in April of 2011 to confiscate an energy crystal that could power a dangerous ray gun.

He witnessed "himself" help the when he was Robin several years before. However, although Nightwing did his best to recreate the circumstances of the mission when he was there, things did not go as planned. After the mission ended, he decided to go visit to Wally. During his visit, he inadvertently revealed his identity and the fact that he's a time traveller.

He also discusses some of the theories he has about how the time travel may work, and suggests that there are actually multiple time lines created when anyone time travels. He suspects that there was at least one timeline that occurred before his timeline as Robin, since there would need to be a reason for the Nightwing he saw to travel back in time. He thinks that things must have been really bad in this timeline to justify something as dangerous and extreme as time travel.

He also reveals one other sliver of the future: he and Wally are together, and Wally dies.

Hoping not to change or mess up the timeline any more, he doesn't divulge any more concrete information. He returns to the future - which may or may not exist, since he's changed the past.

Once he steps into the light of the time travelling portal, the story recounts that first "really bad" timeline - Timeline #1.

In Timeline #1, all of the team was killed during the Yukon mission except for Dick, and the Light later used the energy crystal to destroy The Watchtower and kill half the League. In a world robbed of half its heroes, members of the Light have divided and conquered the Earth, and chaos reigns - particularly in Gotham. Since the mission, Dick has become increasingly unstable, suffering blackouts under stress in which he hallucinates that his friends are still alive.

Dick woke up on the roof of Wally West's house on the anniversary of Wally and the team's deaths. He had a horrible wound in his side, but on his way home, he slipped into Wally's room and took a picture of he and his best friend.

In the last chapter, Dick's frustrated at being excluded from the missions his friends are on, but is feeling better, so he accepts it. However, when Jason throws away his latest monstrosity of an experimental costume, Dick's attracted to the blue that covered his arms and shoulders. When he takes it up to his room to tailor it, he gets a visit from an old friend and some sewing lessons. Dick's recovering but still deeply depressed, so a few months later, ghost!Wally tries to cheer Dick up by taking him to the circus where he inadvertently forces Dick to face some old, deep fears, as well as feelings for Wally, much to the speedster's surprise.

The good news to end good news, though, is that when Babs finally chases him down at the circus, she says that Bruce is letting him back on a mission. He's been working on it ever since ...

Timeline #1 (Robin #1)
Eight Months Later
July 28th, 2013
Gotham City, CT
The Chicken or The Egg

Dick pretended to wobble on his pink stilettos as he navigated the thrumming club floor, a drink in each hand. Technicolor spotlights bathed the dancers in a hallucinogenic palette on the floors Penguin's hottest new nightclub, The Chicken or the Egg.

Months and months of covert recon since the night of the circus put Dick on this dance floor, elbowing his way through the hot crowd in a turquoise mini and sparkly silver shirt. He glanced back in Babs's direction behind the bar where she'd made each of his martinis: one dry and one very, very wet … in that it had no gin at all. That was his, of course.

The dry one? That was for Two-Face's second in command: Tally Man.

Honestly, Dick should have been the one behind the bar dispensing drinks instead of Babs while she played girlfriend. It was easier to get in with the club crowd as girls, of course, and Dick was the only other one on the team still young enough to really rock a mini, but he was supposed to be back up. The plan had been for her to work her way up the ranks of skeezy dudes in Two-Face's inner circles as a moll, so to speak, gaining the trust of the henchmen until they dropped a nugget of info on a strange tech smuggling ring that had infiltrated Gotham lately.

Emphasis on the strange.

In Bolivia, Batman had busted what he thought was a drug ring making its way to Gotham through Two-Face's connections, but the merchandise was anything but.

Because everything they smuggled was completely legal.

Overclocked desktops for gaming, LCD monitors … really, really high end computers. Parts for ultra-powerful guns … paintball guns. MRI equipment.

But the sheer volume would have attracted attention and so, apparently, secrecy was paramount, and Batman thought it highly suspect. Dick was inclined to agree. Otherwise, honestly, Gotham had been quiet. Too quiet.

Legal tech smuggling seemed to be the only game in town.

But that left plenty of time for them to cozy up to Two-Face's gang. In an unfortunate mix-up, though, one night the creepy Tally Man decided he preferred tall, dark-haired, rather androgynous girls over cute little redheads. Dick wasn't thrilled, but he wasn't one to turn down a case. Or a performance.

So here he was.

One particularly sloshed patron tripped over his girlfriend's feet and tumbled backwards into Dick; the acrobat instinctually dodged, drinks juggled upright.

He didn't spill a drop.

"Heeey, gurl nice save," shouted another of the drunk's friends, letting his gaze slide down Dick, over his giant tinted sunglasses, silver sequined tank, to the turquoise mini-skirt that just covered his ass.

Crap. Right. He was supposed to be drunk. The brunet tittered and shook his head, the bangs on his wig falling over his eyes.

"J-just lucky I guess." He reached up to brush his bangs away and, pretending to forget the drink in his hand, let it slosh out of the glass all over the guy at his feet. "Whoops!"

"What the hell? Watch it, bitch," the sloppy blonde slurred as he lurched to his feet.

The friend laughed, pushed the blond back into the throng, and threw an arm around Dick's shoulders. "No worries, baby, he had it coming." He drew in close. His breath smelled like cheap beer; his red silk shirt like cigarettes. "I think the thing I have coming is you. What do you say?"

Ugh. Dick batted his eyelashes and did his best to refrain from sneering. "Well, I'm not sure my date would appreciate that much."

The skeezy guy's gaze followed the incline of his head toward a darkened corner of the club where three overly well-dressed gentleman leaned over a table, whispering conspiratorially. One in a tall black top hat caught Dick's eye across the room, and he winked back. The clubber went a little pale - the three men were easily recognizable as Two-Face's inner circle, and the the one in the formal robes and hat was Two-Face's second in command and sharp-shooter: Tally Man.

Red shirt's hands flew up defensively, gingerly pushing Dick away. "Y-yeah babe, nice seeing you. Give your sweetie my regards."

"Will do," Dick giggled as he navigated the throng again in the direction of the small booth. He discreetly caught Babs's eye as he passed the bar: she sent him a saucy wink and air kiss … and then noticed the missing drink. An eyebrow raised in warning reminded him to check the one remaining drink in his hand. He took a sip. He'd spilled the alcoholic one. As he turned back toward the bar to replace the drink, though, one of Tally Man bodyguard's cut him off.

"Hey, Tally Man wants you back. The Big Boss is coming, and he's gonna show you off. I'll make sure you get back there without any interference," he growled in the direction that the clubber had run in.

"But our drin -"

"No worries, sweetie, you seem plenty liquid, and so we'll just give that one to the man," he grinned as he plucked the drink from the brunet's hand and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Crapcrapcrap. He couldn't give Tally Man the virgin martini Babs had secretly made for him.

"'Kay," he giggled again to mask his anxiety and stumbled back to the table with the guard. Maybe if he pretended to be drunk enough he could just blame it on not paying attention. In front of … the Boss.

Everything Dick had told him this was big. They'd been working forever to get where they were in Two-Face's mysterious smuggling ring, and he was about to blow it because he couldn't hold his liquor.

Two-Face had already joined the table by the time they returned, and Tally Man's flamboyant purple robes shifted to reveal his signature silver revolvers at his hips.

"Ahhh, there she is," Tally Man's toothy grin glittered in the strobe lights. "Told you she was pretty, didn't I?" He wrapped one long, gloved hand around Dick's waist and dragged him unceremoniously into his lap.

Two-Face narrowed his eyes and grunted noncommittally. "Where'd you dig up this one?"

"Oh, you know," Tally Man leared as he ran one thumb over the handle of his infamous silver revolver and the other through Dick's hair. "Here and there."

Two-Face snorted. "Well, which is it? Can't conduct business if I don't know."

Tally Man shifted uncomfortably. "She's clean," he said quietly. "Look, she brought you a drink."

Dick swallowed as Tally Man pushed the virgin martini toward Two-Face.

"Hmm," he mumbled as he took a sip and frowned. "Is this on your tab?" he asked the hitman.

"Of course."

"They're skimping on the alcohol," Two-Face growled, the left side of his face contorting with anger. "Who made this?"

"I - I don't -" Tally Man stuttered, glaring at Dick.

"I don't remember," the brunet interrupted, slurring his sentence. Please, please buy that I'm that sloshed.

"It was the redhead, Boss," the guard interrupted, cocking his head toward Babs. "She's new."

"Well," Tally Man grinned while he unsnapped one of his guns from his shiney silver holsters. "Would you like me to fire her?"

Dick's palms went slick with cold-sweat, and his fingers inched toward his large, chunky fake diamond earring. He didn't want to risk detection of the comm's signal, but …

Two-Face hummed quietly, rolling his quarter through the top of his fingers. "Okay." He balanced the coin on his thumb and forefinger.

Dick wasn't going to give Babs a fifty-fifty chance of getting out of there and twisted the base of his earring. Babs's head snapped in his direction as the coin spun through the air and landed … smooth face up.

The acrobat breathed a sigh of relief, and he flipped off the SOS.

"I think a suspension is in order."

What?

Two-Face nodded in Tally Man's direction, and the hitman grinned as he pulled the trigger. The few seconds warning was all Babs needed, though, to duck as the bullets shattered the bottles above her head. The music screeched to a halt and the dancers stared at the leaking, broken bottles. Tally Man chuckled as a soaked, pale Babs peeked above the bar. The other girls clustered around her protectively and led her away, presumably to the break room. After a few moments, the club beat started up again, everyone shrugged and returned to dancing.

Dick stared after her in shock, and Two-Face glared at him. "What's the matter with you, girly?"

"Huh?" the brunet went back to fiddling with the earring anxiously. "S-sorry, I just never …" he lied, his voice maybe half-an-octave higher than it even should be, "I mean I …"

"If this one can't stand the heat," Two-Face glared at Tally Man, "get her out of the kitchen."

Tally Man's eyebrows pinched in annoyance. "Yeah, of course. Why don't you go get us some better drinks while the big boys talk, hmm?" He pushed Dick off his lap. "And take your time."

Crap.

He stumbled a little, unsteady on his feet for real this time as the bouncer led him back toward the bar. Crap, crap crap. He subtly ripped off the earring with the comm and dropped it at the base of the table before following the bouncer. With some luck - a lot of luck - it would catch at least snippets of their conversation.

Well, maybe if I come back with drinks I can at least pick up the comm before they kick me out for good.

The bar was unmanned, though - probably the other bartenders weren't interested in getting shot. He glanced back over his shoulder. No hope of even lip reading the goons at the table; the writhing mass of dancers completely obscured the table.

Crap again.

The brunet flopped onto a barstool, head in hands, and groaned.

"Hey there, bangs," a voice drawled behind him, "bad night? Maybe I can make it better."

"Look, jerk," Dick growled. "I'm really not in the mood for -"

But the last half of his sentence dropped away as he spun around and met green eyes, red hair, and a quirky smirk.

Wally.

It felt like an eternity since the circus. Dick was starting to think he'd really gotten over his ... that Wally wasn't coming back. The speedster slouched casually against the bar, sleeves on a fitted dark blue button down rolled to his elbows, ankles crossed at the bottom of black jeans that were maybe a little too fitted for his own good. His smile widened for a tick at Dick's shocked face, but his expression faded to serious as he glanced at Two-Face's table.

"You're supposed to be over there, aren't you?"

The acrobat sighed and pinched his nose. Now may not be the best time to hang out with his imaginary best friend. "Yeah."

Wally reached over the bar, snatched up a toothpick and skewered an olive. "Kind of short-staffed, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Dick was pretty sure that he wasn't actually referencing the bar that night, but the tiny reconnaissance team they had. It was supposed to be a slow night at the club, and Tim and Jason and Bruce had stayed home, trying to piece together the puzzle of another tech delivery they'd intercepted that day. At least Jason wasn't there to give him crap about how great he looked in heels.

The redhead pursed his lips, contemplating the olive before popping it into his mouth. "I want you to slap me."

"... what?"

Wally put on a leer, leaning into Dick's space like he was coming onto him. "I want you to slap me and then cry for good measure, okay?"

The dissonance between Wally's directions and the skeezy tone of his voice was deeply confusing.

"Run to the back bathrooms and lock the door but climb out the window, up the fire escape, over the roof to the other side of the building, and meet me by the delivery boxes. Bananas and stuff. Your performance should buy us some time."

Wally was whispering now, pink lips almost against his ear. He was frozen to the spot, Wally's breath hot against his skin, and he could feel his face start to flush.

"Got that … babe?" the redhead tacked on. Dick nodded dumbly.

A beat passed.

"Uh … you have to back away first, dude."

Right.

This is totally crazy, what are you doing, Grayson?

But Dick put on his best indignant face and pushed Wally aside, putting just enough room in between them to crack him hard across the cheek. He put maybe a little too much anger, a little too much frustration into it, because Wally reeled. He ignored the stumbling speedster, though, spun on his heels and stalked away towards the bathroom in the back, hands at his eyes like he was trying to subtly wipe away tears. There were a couple of girls doing make-up at the sink, in the tiny, dingy bathroom, but they were smaller than him, so -

"Get out, sluts," he sobbed hysterically, leaning over the free sink, turning on the water to actually smudge his make-up a little. A good old fashioned tantrum should scare them away long enough for him to get out the window.

"... wha-?" one girl slurred.

"Get out! Get out, get out!" The leggy brunet used his height and to his best advantage, towering over them, mascara running.

They stared dumbfounded for a second, but the plump blond finally said, "Come on, Chaz says he can hook us up with some blow now anyway."

The tan one elbowed him hard at the bottom of his ribs as she made her way out the door: "Christ, what's your problem, bitch."

As soon as the door swung shut behind them, Dick snapped the lock, opened the tiny basement window and wound his way outside. When the he dropped gingerly down from the fire-escape ladder, Wally was leaning against the corner of the building

"Heels are hell," he griped. "How do girls do it? I wish summer Uggs were still in style."

The speedster snorted. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah." Dick adjusted his shimmering silver tank. Wally hmmed thoughtfully without taking his eyes off the alley he faced behind the building. The soft beat of the dance music filtered through the walls into the alley.

"So. What's up?"

"Not really sure," he spun to face his friend. "Well, that's not true. I have an idea, but things haven't always panned out the way I thought, so."

"Care to elaborate?"

Wally's reply was cut off by the sound of the back door into the alleyway rattling open. "Yes! Here they are. You have to see where they go -"

Dick peeked forward and spotted a small group of Two-Face's thugs coming out the club door. "How did you -"

"Dude, covertly," Wally hissed, trying to tug the acrobat back into the shadows and around the corner of the building. But one pearlescent heel caught in a crack in the pavement, and he stumbled back against the wall facing the alleyway, and it was too late, because the crew was just moving into their line of sight, and the brunet had the air knocked out of him as the speedster pinned him against the brick wall, and, covering him as best he could, kissed him.

Oh.

Tally Man's bouncer gave a low, appreciative whistle as they went by.

Dick did his best to keep one eye on them as they made their way down toward the warehouses – god Wally's lips were warm - around the docks - and his tongue was really talented - behind the – he shuddered and just as he was about to moan into his best friend's mouth, Wally broke away and turned around: "Are they gone? You see where they went?"

He nodded as he watched the last one disappear into the warehouse closest to the club: "Warehouse 4A …"

The redhead grinned. "Perfect."

"What … why?" The brunet wasn't just talking about the warehouse. His lips still stung in the best way from the last couple of minutes.

"I, ah, just made your life a lot easier," Wally stumbled over his words. "Trust me? I'm sorry – that was purely, uh, professional … "

The speedster still hadn't moved his hands from the small of Dick's back, and the acrobat finally noticed that he had his fingers curled into the redhead's hair. He couldn't take his eyes off his lips, red and a little swollen and so beautif–

"To opportunities lost," the brunet heard himself whisper, and he pressed his back against the rough brick wall again, dragging the redhead with him. Wally followed eagerly with a slight gasp of surprise and a light, needy moan. Dick sucked his tongue into his mouth, soft and wet and insistent; when he nipped on it, Wally growled against his lips and ran a hand firmly over his ass and down the back of his thigh; the acrobat groaned low, ignoring the grit of the brick as he tossed his head back against the wall; the speedster surged into him harder, scraping his nails down the pantyhose to his knees – was it bad he hoped Wally would leave runs? – and now his mouth and teeth were on his neck, sucking on his pulse point and it shouldn't feel like - like heaven and – oh boy –

Dick pushed him away. "I, uh … th-this isn't right."

Wally's eyelids drifted closed over his emerald irises. "Right."

The Gotham summer was stifling, but the air that flowed over him as Wally backed away felt horribly chill. The speedster awkwardly adjusted Dick's skirt in the back and straightened his own button down.

"No no, it's not …" Dick sighed and chewed on his lower lip guiltily. "I, ah … Babs and I kind of … maybe …"

"Oh," Wally's eyes widened. "Oh."

"... yeah. It's not … 100% or anything, but ..."

"Nono," the redhead shook his head vehemently. "No. I - I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"- no, this is on me. And I mean," Dick shook his head like he was readjusting reality, "th-that's sort of beside the point because, really, I don't even know if you're, uhm - and, anyway, at the circus, I wasn't sure -"

"Y-yeah, that's … that's ... healthy," Wally's voice cracked a little and he looked studiously at his shoes. "We – you – should get back inside," he mumbled, grabbing Dick's hand and pulling him toward the door. He leaned on it and paused, holding it open to the beat and the lights. "Go on."

The younger adjusted his skirt one more time and stepped past him, glancing toward Tally Man's table. The hitman hadn't been in the group with the bouncer, but it was empty. "I think the coast is clear."

Wally stood awkwardly just inside the door while Dick snuck back to the table and picked up the earring. He turned with a smile to Wally, shooting him a thumbs up - the redhead frowned into the distance and jerked his head: the bouncer was back with the rest of Tally Man's goons.

The redhead caught his wrist when Dick fell into the fold of the dancers and dragged him to the back by one of the enormous speakers. The music cut out for some announcements for last call from the DJ - someone was brave enough to man the bars again, it seemed.

"Hey, just hang out around here until they go again, okay?"

Dick just nodded, hiding awkwardly behind the speaker, "I think we're okay. They don't seem to care where I went. Capricious jerk," he said grinning a little, fastening the earring back to his ear. "Hopefully we'll get what we need on this."

"Yeah," Wally hmmed, cocking his head like he was listening to something. "Hey, I - I think I'm gonna leave again in a bit." His freckled cheeks were still flushed, maybe from embarrassment, maybe more - maybe both. "Soooo … since we should blend in and all, I was wondering if I could get a dance before I do? "

The brunet raised one eyebrow. " … really. Since when can you dance?"

Wally's lips twitched. "They have the best teachers in heaven."

The deafening techo picked up again, and Dick shrugged, shouting: "Well, if we stay back here, I guess it wouldn't hurt."

The wrinkle in Wally's brow relaxed as he put his hands on the back of Dick's sequined silver shirt and pulled close without touching, leaning back and giving them just enough room to step side to side with the beat. He grinned and snaked his torso smoothly and slowly back and forth, backing up and putting a hand on Dick's shoulder and spinning him to switch sides.

Huh.

Wally went down a little as the song hit a long note, and he guided Dick's hand over and around his head, walking the brunet in a half circle and twisting around to meet him. The acrobat fell into step with him effortlessly with the readhead; it wasn't hard to follow his lead at all, actually.

This wasn't exactly the funky chicken he'd expected.

Wally backed away again, rolling his shoulders in half time, clearly enjoying Dick's impressed expression before glancing over his shoulder. His smile faded as he stared at the crew whispering among themselves across the room, and a pained look crossed his features. He pulled Dick closer, leaning into his ear.

"Hey. So what have you heard about the case, Robs?"

He sighed. "Not that much, actually. Mostly acronyms - ah, the B delivery, that's been mentioned a lot, … the need for "speed," which we think is a big drug ring coming around? Hopefully the comm will -"

Wally's face tightened for a moment, and he grabbed Dick's hand, turning him inward so that his back was to the redhead's chest and his arms crossed over his silver shirt.

"Robin," he whispered so softly that Dick could barely hear him even though his lips were brushing the shell of his ear, "I want you to listen to me very carefully. Anything about that B delivery is your priority. Anything they say about FTLN or a QE matrix, take really close notes, you got it? That's the important stuff -"

The speedster's voice started to buzz in Dick's ear, distorting a little. "Wally - are - are you vibrating?"

"Shh, I don't have much time -" Wally hissed, "and anything, ANYTHING, you hear about speedsters, you drop whatever you're doing and chase that lead down like your life depends on it, okay?"

"Speedsters -" Dick's heart thudded in his chest, "Does it have anything to do you with you?" he whispered.

He could feel Wally smile with a small rueful sigh against his hair. "No. I wouldn't be of much use here. I'm very dead, Dick."

The younger twisted around with a panicked look on his face, "But then how …?"

The redhead dropped Dick's hands and gently ran his now thrumming fingers through his soft black hair, pushing it behind his ear. "Love the bangs, by the way."

The fake earring beeped in the acrobat's hand, and he shivered while he hesitantly tore his eyes away from Wally's.

"Yes, come in?"

"Do you read?" It was Babs. "I'm behind the DJ stage. Batman's been waiting for you; we were supposed to rendezvous the next building over if we got separated. I've been trying to find you for fifteen minutes."

Aw, dammit.

He craned his neck over the crowd and past the DJ and spotted Babs, leaning against a wall, now in a different dress and a blond wig.

"Sorry, I've been … following a lead on the delivery spot for B, I think."

That was true enough. Talking to sources … etc.

Speaking of sources, Dick turned back toward Wally: "I think that's my cue, KF …"

But the speedster was gone, even though the only way out from behind the speaker was in Dick's direction.

His voice choked a little as he turned back towards Babs. "I-I'll be right there."

And Dick disappeared through the throng himself.