About three years ago

-TD-

Gotham City

He gaped up at the massive house in front of him, his mind still unable to comprehend how huge it was. Frankly, he didn't think he ever would, despite having previously lived in a mansion. The old mansion just wasn't as big as Bruce Wayne's.

Seriously! How could the billionaire playboy stand living there? There were only two other people living there, not including Dick Grayson, who'd moved to Blϋdhaven a while back so he could train to be a cop. Poor Alfred Pennyworth must have a field day cleaning the entire Manor. He shuddered when he tried to imagine the old man cleaning every nook and cranny of the place.

And that wasn't even including the backyard, front yard, the garage, and any other place that he wasn't currently thinking of. He shuddered at the mere thought of spending all day sweeping, dusting, and cleaning.

Alfred's voice startled him from his thoughts, and he turned his head, eyes wide and his mouth still agape. "Master Tim, it is time to head inside. Master Bruce is waiting to meet you in the main hall before I show you to your new room."

"I… Uh… Right…" Tim said stupidly. He didn't like the phrase 'new room.' He wanted his father back. Something stung at his eyes and he slammed them shut, refusing to be caught crying by the paparazzi outside of Wayne Manor. He could practically imagine the headlines that would follow. 'New Wayne ward hesitant to meet his adoptive father. Is Wayne verbally abusing the new ward?'

When the stinging went away, he opened his eyes again and carefully stepped out of the car, his small legs slow to move. Tim swallowed hard and tried to ignore the flashes from cameras and shouts of questions sent at him. He almost sighed in relief when Alfred reappeared by his side with his luggage. He clung to the Butler like a dog to its owner, eager to be offered a chance to be saved from the people surrounding them and the car.

They walked forward together. Alfred raised an irritated eyebrow at the crowd in front of them, and they stepped to the side, no one willing to anger the old man. Tim tried to stare at the bags in the butler's hands as a way to ignore the people, but winced back when the sunlight reflected off the metal locks and into his eyes. He chose instead to stuff his hands in his pockets and match his steps along with Alfred's.

After what felt like hours, but in reality was only thirty seconds, the pair entered the front door of Wayne manor. Tim exhaled a long breath that he hadn't been aware of holding. His jaw fell once more at the paintings mounted along the walls and the giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling above.

He turned to ask Alfred a question, but was stunned to find that the butler was nowhere in sight. "What… Where…?"

"Welcome to your new home, Timothy." Tim turned to the doorway behind him and had to crane his neck to look Bruce Wayne in the eyes.

"I prefer Tim," he grumbled. My parents called me Timothy.

A small smile graced Bruce's face. "Of course, Tim. Alfred is placing your bags in your room. He'll be back shortly to show you the way. In the meantime, you and I should get to know each other a little more."

Tim couldn't help but narrow his eyes a little in thought. Barely a minute here and he already felt as if something were off… he was hiding something behind that smile… "Where're the others?" he asked sheepishly.

Bruce raised a brow as if slightly surprised that that was the first thing the young boy would be asking. "Jason has been confined to his room for the morning. His teachers informed me that he hasn't been completing his homework, so that's what he is doing as of this moment." A slight pause ensued. Bruce was well aware that Tim was waiting for information of Dick's whereabouts, but Bruce knew that the boy knew exactly where he was.

"I'm hungry." Tim's stomach grumbled as if to prove his point. He glanced uneasily at his belly and then back at Bruce. "I didn't have a chance to eat breakfast yet."

His lips thinned. "I'll see about getting Alfred to make you something to eat." He pulled a hand out of his pocket and looked at the clock. He took a few more steps into the room and moved to the left. "He should be back here any second now."

"Did I hear Master Tim say he's hungry?" Alfred's voice sounded moments before he appeared exactly where Bruce had been a few moments ago.

Bruce nodded."Make him some breakfast, please. I have some business to attend to." He walked until he was right in front of Tim. Putting a hand on top of the boy's head, he ruffled it. Bruce then proceeded to grab a coat off of its hanger and put it on. He paused when his hand was on the handle of the door. "And don't worry about the press," he added as an afterthought. He flashed a reassuring smile to Tim. "I'll take care of them." And then he was gone, a small blow of the February cold entering the house and making Tim shudder.

"The dining room is this way, Master Tim." He turned and followed Alfred through the house.

One right, two lefts, and then they were in what he could only assume to be a dining room to fit twenty people. He vaguely recognized the room from the party Bruce Wayne had hosted. He sighed at the mere thought. His eyes welled and this time he allowed two tears to roll down his cheeks. "Dad…" he whispered to no one.

He wasn't even aware of Alfred standing in front of him until the man put his hands on Tim's shoulders in his version of a hug. Alfred kneeled down and stared Tim straight in the eyes. "Master Bruce is terribly sorry for what happened to your father," Alfred promised. "If he would have known that the Joker and his assailants were going to break into the Manor to catch attention, he would not have had the party. Master Bruce is doing everything he can to find out who it was, and he will bring him, or her, to justice."

Tim sighed and rubbed his left hand across his face. "I know… it's just… I miss him."

"And you are much stronger than many young boys your age," Alfred insisted. "Now, I do hope you enjoy pancakes. Master Jason loves them, and he still needs to eat as well."

Tim sniffled a little and rubbed at his eyes once more. "Yeah… pancakes are fine." Alfred walked away and left Tim to his thoughts.

Sighing, Tim sat at a seat at the far end of the table and away from all the doorways. It gave him a good view of both entrances without him having to turn his head to look from one to the other. He was already getting tired of being snuck up on and suddenly being left behind… that reminded him a lot of the Batman… rumor has it that he scares Gordon every time the Batsignal is turned on…

He crossed his arms and planted them on the table before resting his head on his arm. He was pretty sure he knew who the Batman was… all he needed was psychical proof and then he'd know for sure. Tim let out a humorless chuckle. Yeah, so says every single person in Gotham. What makes you think that you're any different? Of course he was having an argument with himself. One hundred percent natural, right? Totally not concerning in the slightest. Not at all.

Then again, most people didn't have to return to a room and find their father dead on the floor…

"Dad? I have to go to the bathroom… no, I don't need an escort… Mr. Wayne said it's just down the hall… this place is so huge and these hallways are so long…" BANG "Dad? Dad, where are you? Oh my –DAD? DAD, PLEASE! Wake up… please wake up… Mr. Wayne, why isn't he waking up… Please, PLEASE wake him up… DAD!"

Tim involuntarily shuddered at the memory of him sobbing over his father's body and he closed his eyes for a long moment, refusing to allow himself to cry. He'd cried enough over the past month. Now it was time to figure out which of Joker's goons murdered his father. Whoever was, Tim mentally swore to make them pay.

All he needed were the files and reports on that night… something of which both the police and the Batman would have, and if his calculations were correct… which he was almost positive that they were…

He was always solving problems, like when his friend James from school hid his things and told him that he had to figure out where they'd been put. That had only taken him all of five minutes to figure out.

Tim closed his eyes once more while he continued to wait for food, mentally wondering when, or if, Jason was going to come down and eat. He highly doubted that Alfred allowed people to eat anywhere else in the house, much less their own rooms. It'd take forever to clean up any mess.

The delicious smell of pancakes drove Tim from his thoughts and he felt his mouth water at the smell. He could almost taste it. It smelled of blueberries and overall pure heaven. He hadn't had pancakes in so long… He could only imagine what Alfred's would taste like. He almost drooled at the thought. Blueberry pancakes were probably one of the greatest breakfast inventions ever.

"Who are you," a voice commanded, startling Tim out of his thoughts. He internally punched himself for allowing himself to be snuck up of again. Honestly!

He blinked a few quick times and swallowed. "I'm, uh, I'm Ti-"

"I know who you are," Jason interrupted, the annoyance evident on his face. "I meant, what are you doing here?"

Tim couldn't help but frown. Surly Jason Todd had been informed that he was going to be living here? "Uh… Bruce is taking me in," he visibly winced, "because of the party."

Jason clenched his jaw and Tim could've sworn that he saw the older boy's eye twitch. Jason moved to stand right next to him and when Tim turned, Jason roughly jabbed a finger at his chest. "Well listen here, punk. Just because you live here now doesn't mean I have to like you." He curled his lip. "Especially not some replacement!"

Tim flinched at the harshness of Jason's voice and the way he said 'replacement.' It sounded full of venom and almost as if he wished he were allowed to wring Tim's scrawny little neck.

"Master Jason! Where are your manors, young man?" Alfred's voice brought instant comfort to Tim. Jason's eyes widened and he was quick to dart away from the younger and chose a seat as far away from Tim as he could get. He was about to sit down when Alfred scolded him once more. "That is no way to make Master Tim feel at home!"

Jason hung his head and walked back towards Tim with a muffled, "Sorry, Alfred."

"I should certainly hope so."

Meanwhile, Tim gaped at the steaming pancakes on the plates in Alfred's arms. He didn't even notice when Jason sat down two seats away from him.

"Will Bruce be joining us?" Jason asked.

Tim was slightly surprised that Jason had actually bothered to ask. From what he heard, Jason and Bruce weren't seen as often by the public than he had with Dick when he was young. Maybe Bruce just wanted to shield Jason, a boy he'd essentially found on the street, from the sudden attention. But Jason had been taken in a year ago. Even so, the slight glimmer of hope in Jason's voice indicated that they did not see each other very often. That or he had something important he wanted to talk to Bruce about.

Alfred's gaze flickered to Tim for a split second, not that the young boy noticed between his gawking. "I am afraid not. Master Bruce had to take care of some business, as he said." The two swapped a meaningful glance before Alfred finally set the plates on the table.

Steam floated into the air and Tim refrained from just stuffing the food into his mouth. Alfred surely would not appreciate that. Besides, there wasn't any syrup on it. He glanced up and was about to ask for some, but Alfred beat him to it. "Would either of you like any toppings, sirs?"

Jason requested whipped cream and maple syrup. Tim quickly asked for the same. That earned him a harsh glare from Jason, leaving him confused. He couldn't understand why Jason seemed to hate him. They didn't even know each other!

"Let's make one thing clear, replacement," Jason hissed as soon as Alfred was gone. "I don't know you, and I don't want to know you. Capisce?" Tim could only nod in response.

After a long, awkward silence and two finished pancakes later, Alfred was ready to show Tim to his room. "And just where do you think you're going?" he called after Jason, who'd been halfway out the door.

Jason froze and slowly turned around. "I'm going to finish my homework," he reassured the suspicious butler.

Alfred gave another meaningful look to Jason that Tim wished he could read. "I'm pleased to know," he commented dryly. "Perhaps you should show Master Tim to his room."

Jason's eyes grew ten times their normal size. "But Alfred-"

"I will have no complaining of the sort. It seems that Master Bruce needs help deciding on what to eat at Olive Garden and has requested my assistance."

With a resigned sigh, Jason turned his attention to Tim a jerked his head to the side to indicate for him to follow. While they walked down the too quiet hallways of Wayne Manor, Tim stared at his feet rather than look at his surroundings.

A sick feeling settled in his stomach and Tim forced his gaze up. He let out a startled yelp and darted backwards, not even noticing when he collapsed onto his knees. Bile rose in the back of his throat but he forcibly swallowed it back down. He refused to puke and look weak in front of Jason, even if tears were already falling from his face.

"Can we please go a different way?" he begged.

Jason squatted down next to him and uneasily placed his hand on the younger's back. He attempted to rub soothing circles on Tim's back, but it didn't help in the slightest; their less than pleasant first meeting took away from what was supposed to be a calming gesture.

"Shit, kid. I'm sorry," Jason murmured in his ear. "I didn't mean to bring you this way. It's just that I always walk this way… we'll take a different path. Come on, let's get you up- okay, let's not puke, okay?"

Tim simply nodded and allowed Jason to grab his arm and slip it over his shoulder. If his stomach weren't so knotted he would've been mortally embarrassed when he was picked up bridal style and carried down the hallway. His mind screamed at him to turn away from the room, but his body refused to cooperate and his eyes continued to stare blankly at the room from where his head rested on Jason's shoulder. All he could see in his mind's eye was the bloodied body of his father while he crouched over top of it, screaming bloody murder and pressing his hands frantically over a wound that just refused to stop bleeding.

Jason on the other hand, felt extremely guilty, despite the rude first encounter. He just didn't like the fact that he'd barely lived in the manor for a year and he was already being replaced. Dick Grayson had lived there for six years before Jason even came along! Seriously! Was he that disliked by Bruce that he was being replaced as soon as possible?

If he was being honest with himself, it wasn't Tim that he was actually mad at, but Bruce himself. He was starting to understand why Dick left… at least, he thought he understood. He'd luckily at school at the time when it'd happened. He'd never been so grateful to be at school before that day. Much less grateful that Dick had been recovering in bed from a wound received as Robin.

He would've shuddered at the thought if he weren't speed walking with an eleven year old kid in his arms in hopes of getting him to his room before potential projectile vomit would ruin his clothes. He'd never hear the end of it from Alfred.

Speaking of Alfred, he wondered what the butler was actually up to. He would never dare to question the old man out loud out of fear of being scolded for intruding upon privacy. Jason would much rather spend five hours in a room with the Joker with his hands tied behind his back than to face the wrath of Alfred Pennyworth. He didn't believe anything to be scarier. Not even the infamous bat glare. Or even the Batman in general.

Jason was soon met with a flight of stairs and he scaled them as fast as he possibly could. He tried to ignore the way that Tim's little head bounced against his shoulder and refused to turn his head to look at him. He didn't want possibly stare into vacant eyes.

"Just a little further," he grunted out. Tim didn't verbally respond, but he could almost swear that he felt the arm strewn across his other shoulder pressed harder against him. Jason tightened his own grip in return.

He took another left and practically kicked down the door a little ways down the hallway and just across from his own room. The room was desolate besides the bed, dresser, closet, nightstand, and luggage sitting on the bed. A trash can sat in the corner and Jason carefully put Tim down next to it in case the boy puked.

Rather than do what Jason thought he'd do, Tim turned to him and have a weak smile that didn't have the desired effect due to the blurry eyes and red marks indicating that he'd been silently crying on the trip up.

He sighed and crouched down so that they were eye level. "Look… I'm really sorry, kid. I didn't mean to… it was just the fastest way here and…" he trailed off, not wanting to hurt the boy more by saying that he'd taken the path quickest to getting him away from him.

"I get it," Tim said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "You don't like me. You don't have to pretend to try to get along with me. I'm unwanted, I get it."

And his irritation returned in a heartbeat. "You know what? Whatever. I tried being nice. But apparently you think that's just me faking it," he snapped.

Tim opened his mouth to reply, but Jason abruptly turned around and strode out, slamming the door closed on his way.

Now it was his turn to sigh. Left all alone, Tim pushed himself to his feet and walked over to his bed and sat down. Grabbing his bag and placing it on his lap, Tim opened it.

He took out the photo that was sitting on top and set the frame against the nightstand. "I miss you," he whispered, his thumb stroking the glass and picture of him and his parents. A choked sob escaped him and he didn't hear footsteps hesitantly walking away from his door.

Tim groaned and shifted in his bed for what he could only guess to be the fiftieth time. Try as much as he could, his mind just refused to let him sleep despite the exhaustion pulsing through his body.

He felt like he'd done everything possible to fall asleep. Clenching and unclenching his fingers and toes, counting sheep, meditating, and just blocking everything out around him, yet here he was, still awake and desperately wanting to sleep!

Tim rolled over once more and pulled the covers down over his head. Blue eyes opened just enough to make out four digits on an alarm clock set up on the nightstand. He groaned for the second time in five minutes. 11:38. He'd been laying in bed trying to sleep for over an hour and a half. That apparently wasn't working.

With great reluctance, Tim pried himself from the bed sheets and struggled to his feet. He smacked his lips together a few times and crept over to his door.

Using his memory of the tour that Alfred had actually given him earlier that day (Jason disappeared to who-knows-where), Tim walked down the hallways of Wayne Manor as quietly as he could. He soon found himself one room away from the front door when he paused in his tracks. Voices echoed down the hall to him.

"- heavens, Master Dick! It is good to see you, but what brings you here at this hour, sir?"

A light chuckle. "Sorry Alfie," the man –Dick– apologized. "I finally finished that project I told you about last week. Drove straight here as soon as I finished." Tim could practically hear the shrug in Dick's voice. "Figured you'd be up here for awhile yet. Couldn't resist saying hello to my best friend."

Tim frowned. 'Up here?' As far as Tim was aware, there was no basement inside the Manor. That meant one of two things. Either Alfred didn't complete the tour, which Tim seriously doubted because the butler seemed to know and remember everything, or…

Alfred was not pleased with the answer. "How many times have we discussed answering the question, Master Dick?"

"Alright, alright! I need to talk to Bruce, okay? I just… wanted to speak to you first."

"Master Bruce is down in his study. If you wish to talk, I request you go now, sir."

"Thanks, Alfie."

And then a set of feet began walking in the opposite direction. He almost didn't hear the quieter set of feet until the figure of Alfred appeared in front of him. He gulped and glanced up to see the butler gazing down at him with a raised eyebrow. He gaped in awkward surprise until he regained some of his composure. Alfred remained silent, seemingly waiting for Tim to speak.

"I-I couldn't sleep. I came down here to see if Bruce was awake," he lied, heart racing. At Alfred's disbelieving and judgmental look, Tim scrambled through his mind in search for a distraction. "Was that Dick I heard you talking to? I didn't hear what was said of course! Just the rebounds off the walls. It sounded like him. "

Alfred still wasn't convinced, but let the discussion drop anyway. He dipped his head. "Indeed, sir."

"Do you know where he went?" Tim inwardly groaned to himself. Why did he have to sound like an overexcited fan boy that'd just met his or her role model?

"I should believe the Master is in what he deemed 'the family room,'" Alfred replied. "He seems to have taken a preference to see a happy face before conversing with Master Bruce."

Tim blinked, surprised that he'd received a legitimate answer from the butler and not a cryptic one, much like Jason when questioned on where he'd gone to at nine o'clock. "Uh… thanks. I'm just… gonna… just gonna go talk to him for a bit," he said sheepishly.

Alfred stepped away, giving Tim room to hunt down the acrobat, and he took off, his suspicions on high alert and warning him that he was about to miss something important. Memory took over, and he recalled Alfred showing him a room with a painting of the Flying Grayson's hanging on the wall and a grandfather clock against the far wall from the door. He hesitated outside the room.

He could only assume that was the correct room. After all, what other room could the butler be referring to? He was going to wait and see if Dick would walk out after a few minutes, but the swoosh of air being expelled had him enter the room. Tim's eyes were instantly drawn to the old grandfather clock and saw the minute hand move backward to read 2:30.

Tim's eyes widened, his jaw dropping in surprise. Had he expected this? Completely. Then again, it was one thing to suspect that Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy was Batman, but it was another to find an entrance to the Batcave.

Glancing behind himself to make sure that Alfred wasn't going to appear at any given moment, Tim placed suddenly sweaty hands on the clock. He closed his eyes and remembered all the photos of both Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd, and the different sets of the Dynamic Duo with two different Robins he'd had hidden in his nightstand back at home, as well as the information he looked up on them. He opened his eyes after a minute and the corner of his lips curved up into a smirk.

He changed the clock to read 10:27. The grandfather clock moved to the side to reveal a dark, empty passage. Tim stepped through without a moment's hesitation, his adrenaline the only thing preventing him from hightailing it away from his chance to prove himself right.

Present day

-TD-

Gotham City, 7:36

Tim smirked and waved as the bell rang. A horrified expression appeared on his friend's face and it took almost all of Tim's willpower to not burst out laughing as Blaze took the final three steps to enter the classroom. He was late to class.

"And what," Tim's homeroom and first period math teacher, Mrs. Davis started, "is the excuse today, Mr. Glacken?"

Blaze tugged on his shirt collar, his face still horrified. "My locker wouldn't open! I swear!"

An eyebrow rose. The teacher stood up from her desk and stared down Blaze. She gestured to the many books stacked in his hands. "You seem to have your supplies with you, do you not?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"You're late to class for the second time already this semester, Mr. Glacken. Make sure it doesn't happen again. I'd hate to have to have another talk with your parents." She picked up a stack of papers off of her desk. She thumbed through them and began counting out packets. Tim estimated that she put three back on the desk. Without looking up, she said, "Have a seat, Blaze."

Blaze sat down next to Tim. Tim tried not to look at the red hue on Blaze's cheeks, and instead gestured to the stack now on his desk. "Did you finish the chemistry homework from last night?"

"Barely," Blaze breathed out. He fiddled his thumbs before looking at Tim, his expression dead serious. "I was up until three this morning on it, so I better get at least a ninety-five on it! If I don't, I swear you'll never see me again. My dad made it perfectly clear that he wants me to have a ninety in chem by the end of the marking period. I calculated it, and if I get that ninety-five, I'll be at a ninety-two by the end of the day."

"Today you will be taking a test. Separate your desks and get out a sheet of graphing paper. This is math class; you're expected to draw graphs as some point, so quit grumbling and get over it. You aren't three year olds that cry when they don't get what they want. You're high school students, even if some of you shouldn't be in this class yet, so I expect you to act like the mature young adults you're expected to be. As always, take your time and show your work or you will not receive all points possible."

Tim ducked his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Dude, stoichiometry isn't even hard. It's just like basic math!"

"That's easy for you to say!" Blaze paused to tug his desk a foot away. "You're a genius when it comes to anything math related."

At that moment, a packet was slammed onto his desk, making Tim jump. He looked up into the irritated eyes of Mrs. Davis. She glanced at the watch on her wrist. "Get started boys; you have forty minutes to turn it in."

"Right, Mrs. Davis," he said in a rush.

It was no wonder everyone was terrified of the woman; she never accepted a student's excuse and always acted as if she never even wanted to be a teacher in the first place. Tim could be completely rude by thinking that Mrs. Davis was on a never ending period, but he hated stereotyping, especially considering many girls he knew didn't even change behavior ever. Granted, he didn't know if they'd gotten it for the first time, nor did he want to know (it was none of his business. Barbara never acted differently, and it was just awkward thinking about for Tim.

That didn't mean he wasn't looking at any girls though. At fourteen years old, he knew he'd be expected to soon take on the playboy act like Bruce. Either way, there were a few girls he genuinely found attractive. However, there was only one girl he actually liked, and she was probably at Happy Harbor at the moment.

Tim glanced up at the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes. Tim wasn't concerned in the slightest. Algebra two was his best subject last semester, and all of the lessons were very easy. Honestly, Tim thought he should've been placed in trigonometry and pre calculus, but Bruce had argued that he was already one grade ahead. Still, everyone knew that he didn't belong in alg two. It just simply wasn't on his level of expertise when it came to math.

He huffed and propped his head up with his palm. He stared at the test, his lips tugging into a frown as he read through the questions on the first page. Tim wrote his name down at the top of the paper and began writing down answers.

The worst part was that Tim had to show his work. He was content with doing it all in his head! Besides, he rarely even had to use a calculator, so he didn't see the problem with not writing down work. He flipped the page and smirked. Finally!

"Write the equation of the quadratic using the points: (3,20) (-1,-4) (-5,4)"

Tim loved these types of questions. They actually provided a little bit of a challenge for Tim because he had to be super careful to make sure he didn't mess up anything. If he did, he'd have to go back and figure out where he went wrong or start over again. He quickly set up his equations of:

20=9a+3b+c

-4=a-b+c

4=25a-5b+c

From there, Tim combined the first equation with the second and the first and third. As a final answer, Tim had: y=+4x-1

The rest of the page contained three more of those questions, all of which Tim happily answered. The third page moved onto a whole new topic.

Tim finished the paper with fifteen minutes to spare, and he wasn't the last person to finish. In fact, he was the second person to turn in the paper (he didn't feel like being the first). That may or may not have meant he sat there pretending to be checking his answers for a couple of minutes.

On the bright side, the spare time gave him the time to allow his thoughts to stray. He hadn't really been getting much time for that lately because of his duties as Robin, a teammate, and his school responsibilities. Ironically, school seemed to be the only place where he'd have spare time. Almost all his time at the manor was spent in the batcave studying mock crime scenes to enhance his detective skills, training with his bo staff, and trying to hunt down the Joker before he could cause harm to the city.

He scowled and subconsciously clenched his hand into a fist. He was starting to get sick of Gotham's villains getting out of Arkham essentially whenever they wanted. Even more so that that meant Tim had to shuffle himself between two completely separate battles. He found it ridiculous that Bruce refused to allow metas into his city (unless it was a team villain and Bruce didn't trust Tim to handle it on his own, like Clayface), although Tim did understand it. They were among the few vigilantes/heroes in the cape community that didn't have any powers. That meant they had to work three times as hard to prove that they belonged. Well, at least Tim did. Being fourteen and among the youngest on the team didn't help his case.

That also meant he wasn't used or needed as much as the other members. With all the alien villains appearing, nonmetas were being shoved to the sideline because they didn't have powers to protect themselves. Sure, there was the fiasco a while back when Jason put Tim in charge of gamma squad, but that'd been completely accidental. If they'd have known beforehand, he probably would have been put on another squad instead. The only good thing that came out for Tim was that Blue Beetle and L'gann knew that he could handle himself and lead a group.

… and he and Jason got along for a whole two days before the arguments started back up, even if they'd never admit to enjoying being on the same page.

Which lead to the Red Hood. It was among the few things that Tim couldn't figure out. No name, no face to recognize… nothing. There was no way he could've just disappeared; he had to be somewhere out there, but where? And what was with his strange obsession with Tim? Thankfully Bruce was on another planet. Otherwise Robin probably would have been retired. Dang Bruce and his freakish paranoia.

The sound of the bell ringing made Tim jump in his seat. Had he really just zoned out for fifteen minutes? He shook his head and put his desk back where it belonged next to Blaze's. the older boy was smirking at him.

"What?"

Blaze laughed and they picked up their folders and books. "Dude, you were out like a light! I don't even want to know what the heck you were possibly thinking about that had you so out of it. It was as if you were staring straight through the floor and out into the depths of space."

Tim scoffed. "You say that as if you've never spaced out before! Besides, who says I wasn't thinking about that one hundred percent I'm going to get and the eighty you'll get on that chem paper?"

"Hey! Not fair you little…" he broke off and stared at a group of girls several feet in front of them. He pursed his lips and glanced down at Tim, an evil look crossing his face. Dread filled Tim's body but it was too late. Blaze grabbed Tim's arm and swung him into the middle of the group. "Hey, girls! Timmy boy here wants to talk to you. Says there's one of you he wants to ask out on a date."

Tim's face flushed a bright red as many sets of eyes stared at him. "I'm terribly sorry about this," he rushed, "but Blaze has it all wrong. So sorry for the interruption… um… I have to get to class."

Tim squeezed out of the circle without another word, his face still bright red. He quickly caught up to Blaze and roughly elbowed him in the side. "Not. Cool. Not cool at all."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't taunt me about my chem grade," Blaze teased back.

Lunch was a nice break from the morning. Tim liked his schedule for this reason. His morning classes consisted of math, civics and economics, English, and gym. And then came lunch. After lunch, Tim had French, chemistry, and psychology. It was a nice little break from everything considering he enjoyed all his classes, and they were practically divided into the thought process of more work in the morning, little work in the afternoon. That meant he usually had a bit of free time, and therefore could usually finish any homework given in the morning with his spare time.

"… Tim!"

Tim started and looked up a Blaze. He realized he must've been asked something, and he had no clue what. He stupidly said, "Huh?"

Blaze eyed him critically. "You gonna eat your sandwich or what? Did Alfred not make it the way you like?"

Tim became irritated. While he understood that Blaze was just trying to get him to talk, it was well known among his group of friends that sometimes he'd go days without talking. They made a silent agreement to just leave Tim to his thing whenever that happened and welcome him back when he started talking again.

So why was Blaze talking to him now?

… oh.

Oh.

It was because they talked earlier. Tim would only talk if called on in class whenever he went on his silent episodes. And those were usually not very often, only happening when Batman and Robin would have trouble finding a villain. Tim would spend his time thinking of all logical places they could possibly be.

"Yeah," he mumbled, taking a bite to prove his point. His friends gave his skeptical looks while he chewed.

Blaze swapped glances with James. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, is everything alright? You're acting a little strange," James added. "Is everything all good at home?"

James was a nice person. He was usually the first to notice if something was wrong with one of the members of their ragtag group of friends. While he wasn't considered very smart, or, at least not on any of the other's level, he just knew whenever something was up. That was his superpower.

Each friend has their own little skill they consider a special power. Blaze is the teaser and can tell when someone has a crush, James knows whenever something is wrong, Tim just knows things he shouldn't possibly be able to know, and Jessica can make anyone laugh if she set her mind to it.

"Yeah, everything's great," Tim reassured with a smile. "Alfred's still as sassy as ever," he added as an afterthought.

James was always asking about Alfred as if he expected the butler to die sometime soon. If Tim had to place any bets on who would live the longest in all of Gotham, he'd put his money on Alfred.

James and Blaze stood up. "We're gonna head to the bathroom really quick."

"Both of you?"

"A man's got to do what a man's got to do."

Jessica spoke for the first time. "And what about girls?"

That left everyone quiet for a solid thirty seconds before Jessica broke from her irritated look into n amused one. She laughed and Tim joined her. They ignored the looks they were getting from other tables.

"Go before you pee yourselves," Tim said, still laughing. Both boys flushed a red hue and left the room. Tim turned his blue eyes to Jess. "Thanks for the save. I already have Alfred's voice in my head half the day. I don't need it any more being asked to tell a story about a time he roasted me or Bruce."

Jess was a small girl with brown hair braided in the back. She had green eyes and her voice was smooth as honey. She was smarter than Tim when it came to French and civics. It was crazy how she made it seem so easy in remembering terms such as filibuster. Jess's voice was like heaven when she spoke French because she practically took on an accent and her words flowed together smoothly. If Tim didn't have his eyes on another girl, he probably wouldn't mind the prospect of dating Jess.

She put a hand on top of his, drawing him back to the present. He glanced down and then back up to see her face now dead serious and lacking the amusement she'd previously held. "I know that is not what's bothering you."

Tim sighed, using the few seconds of stalling that gave him to think of something to say that would convince Jess that he was telling the truth. He unconsciously slid his hand out from underneath hers. "Jason and I haven't been getting along very well lately." Okay. Only a half lie. Sure, they've never truly gotten along together and usually put up a good front in front of the media and the Team, but the fact that they couldn't get along did genuinely trouble Tim. Why was it that even after all the time Tim spent meditating daily that Jason got under his skin so easily and riled him up?

Jess furrowed her brows. "Have you done anything to provoke him? Or has he done anything to provoke you?"

He let out an emotionless chuckle. "Besides being our regular selves? No. I think…" He trailed off, unsure if he should say what he was going to. She gave him a reassuring nod. "I think that I somehow made him think that I replaced him. He didn't get much time to walk around and get all the attention from the media before I came along and became the new focus."

"Is that why he moved to Blϋdhaven?"she asked, her head tilted slightly to the side and a strand of hair gliding across her face.

Tim nodded slowly. Liar.

Two sets of hands landed on his shoulders and Tim's face instantly morphed into a cocky smirk. Blaze and James sat back down. His smirk grew and became genuine. He rested his hands behind his head. "You two jealous that I got a better grade than you on that math test?"

James's jaw dropped. "I haven't even had math class yet, Tim!" he spluttered. "You don't know how well I'll do!"

"Alright, fine," Tim conceded with a fake frown. Then his smirk reappeared. "I predict I'll get a ninety nine. Blaze will get a ninety. Jess will get a ninety five. And you, James, will have an eighty three."

The following day, he was proven right when they got their tests back, much to James's dismay.

AN: The flashback ended up being a lot longer than I intended, especially in comparison to the length of the present day part. So sorry about that if you find it strange; it was entirely accidental. That just seemed like a good place to stop and save a scene for next chapter. Umm, anyways, did you enjoy the casualness of this as a little break from the drama going on with all the other characters?

Who's your favorite character? Which characters do you like? Which do you not like? What would you like to see happen in future chapters? And what do you think is up with Jason?