Tim Drake / Callie Noon (ex_thisismym190) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-12-24 09:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | barbara gordon, door: dc comics, oracle, red robin |
WHO: Barbara Gordon and Tim Drake
WHERE: The Clock Tower
WHEN: Pre-plot
WHAT: Babs and Tim meet and bond over not being the "right" versions
RATING: PG! Some angst.
STATUS: log; complete.
Over a month later and Tim still wasn't really sure what to do with himself. Time was a weird thing here. He spent much of it in the head of some cheerful hippie chick, and that was grating, but whenever he crossed into his world, he almost wished he didn't bother. This side was strange. It was the same and yet completely different. A lot of it felt familiar, like his house, which he decided to stay in when he came through. He kept a distance between himself and Wayne Manor, almost like he didn't feel like that was his home anymore. Maybe it wasn't. But he had his house. It hurt less than it used to, without his father around. Still adjusting to this new Gotham was a headache. He went on the streets, he went back to solving crimes, and he did it on his own mostly. Sure he'd reach out if he saw other people, but in general, Tim wasn't waiting around for orders anymore. Bruce didn't seem interested in giving them. This younger, less experienced Bruce, at least. It made it easier to not be Robin now. He couldn't be that Bruce's Robin even if he wanted to, it felt wrong. He hoped there came a day when most of this didn't feel wrong, but he doubted it. Dick remembered him, but they were at odds, slowly making up ground. Slowly. Jason and Damian remembered him, which was just freaking perfect, since he wished they didn't. Steph did, and she was dating the Riddler, so. Jesus. This really was upside down. There was no real reason for him to show up at the clock tower, other than he was in the area, and it felt natural. There were so many times he crashed on Babs' couch or ate Chinese with her while they talked about cases together. She was his cool older sister, in a way, and Tim hoped this version wouldn't mind putting up with him. Because he was tired and it was raining out, and he was still deciding if he wanted to go back to Drake Manor or through the door. He made a new uniform for himself, his Red Robin one got left behind, but it was basic black and dark red gear, nothing advanced just yet. He was dressed in normal wear for now, his clothes stuffed into a backpack, and he showed up at the bottom floor of the tower. Usually he would've broken in or used passwords, but this was a new Babs. He wasn't going to be rude enough to assume that was fine. Instead he stood down at the bottom and waved upward, knowing there were probably a few cameras on him. If Babs was around, she'd hopefully give him some sign it was all right to come up. Babs was around, staring at the monitor that was covering the foot of the clock tower. The face that stared back up at her was only familiar from her research. Tim Drake. Never heard of him. Oh she had read about him, pored through all her files about him and everyone her future self knew. Spoke to him a few times on the network, too. But this was still a stranger and, rain aside, she debated what to do. The door before Tim swung open with one push of a button. She had to give it to Oracle, this was a sweet setup. Upstairs she waited by the clock face, finding the view of the city nice when seen from something other than through a camera lens. Dressed a navy sweater, oversized and comfortable, and a pair of blue jeans, she almost felt guilty for not greeting him when she was dressed so casually. Almost. Gotham had no shortage of heroes ready to save the day and she refused to feel bad for not immediately going out. The night was still young. She could run out and play in the rain after. There was little sense in having him knock a second time and Babs had a cup of tea in her hand as she opened the door and waited patiently for her visitor. When he finally showed she gave him a smile, her shoulder on the doorframe as she leaned against it, red hair spilling down one shoulder from her low ponytail. “Hey, stranger,” she grinned. Well, it wasn’t wrong. She saved him from having to do the sad Charlie Brown walk back to an empty house, so Tim was grateful. He would've been surprised to see her in anything other than casual wear, considering how many late hours they spent in tights or sweats. This Babs didn't have those experiences though. He was used to being unknown now, so seeing her before might've hurt more. Now he was leaning more toward the 'any port in a storm' way of thinking. He knew logically that Babs was from earlier, meaning she hadn't been in the wheelchair yet. It was still a surprise to see her out of it. Tim was taller than her, but it was still a substantial difference from looking down at someone sitting. Otherwise she looked just like the woman he knew; younger, maybe, but that was about it. "Hey, stranger," he echoed with a return grin, taking no offense at the reminder they were strangers. If anything, her wry sense of humor was familiar. He adjusted the strap of his backpack and stepped out of his shoes to leave them in the hall. It was a learned gesture, not wanting to track water or dirt into her place. "I wasn't sure if you'd be up here. I didn't interrupt anything did I?" Babs being in casual wear didn't mean she wasn't busy. At least in his world she did most of her work at the computer, so jeans were work clothes. She watched him with a curious eye as he entered. She had seen photos and videos of him before but this was new. How unfortunate that there was another Robin taller than her. She dreaded how tall Jason had gotten, and she made a mental note to pay him a visit one day. For now she had Tim, and she closed the door behind them, shaking her head at the question. “Not yet, anyway. I figure the city can sit tight for a little bit. There are a million vigilantes out these days. They won’t miss one for a few hours.” A beat as she looked him over, dressed in all black, not too far from what either of them would wear when out on patrol. She offered him a faint smile. “Or miss two, for that matter.” She figured he knew something about that, coming to a world not only as a second time around but also finding that you didn’t quite fit in anymore. That the spaces they occupied weren’t really filled, but they also had been eventually moved beyond. “So,” Babs clapped her hands once before rubbing her palms together. “What brings you by? Want something to drink?” She started her way towards the kitchen while gesturing for him to put his bag down. “Tea’s still warm. I couldn’t help myself with the rain." Most of the Robins looked an alarmingly amount like one another. They could be mistaken for brothers, and often were, much to the chagrin of some of them. Tim was more lanky than the others, tall and thin, muscular of course they all were with how often they trained, but it seemed much more downplayed on him. He wouldn't have much trouble blending into a crowd, and it was a skill he used regularly on the streets. "It used to be a little more ... organized where we're from." It was one of the frustrating things he found here. Bruce didn't take command the same way he did back home, leaving a few holes in their otherwise well oiled machine. "We had our own territories and covered parts of the city in shifts." Gotham was watched over closely by the Batfamily, and they didn't need to run into each other as much that way. Not unless they wanted to give each other a hand or needed help. It worked well, but new vigilantes weren't exactly welcome to the area. He set the bag down when instructed and smiled at her. "Habit, I guess? And I wanted to meet you." Tim told her when they first talked that any version of her was one in a million. He meant that. Babs was the person all of them trusted without question, even Bruce. "I'd love some tea, thanks. So is the watch tower your hideout where you're from too?" He was inquisitive and curious, a natural detective. It was always an interesting topic of conversation: where (or when) people were from. Their lives were laid out for Babs to read up on, and she had spent countless hours going over everything that would happen (had happened, she kept reminding herself). It was still interesting to hear about it from sources other than Oracle’s files. “Must have been something,” she said lightly, a touch of awe creeping into her voice at the mental image. “We could break up the city as much as we needed where I came from, but there were only three of us, sometimes four. No complaints though.” Never those. Talk of the tower was met with a half shrug as she disappeared around a corner to the kitchen. She didn’t so much bat an eyelash anymore at the lowered sink and countertops, instead setting out towards the water, asking a quick, “What’s your poison? I’ve got it all” as she poured. “No watch tower where I’m from,” she replied, though she knew that he already guessed that from her answers, and the way she walked around the room. She had never met Tim but if she hadn’t read his file, she wouldn’t doubt he picked up a thing or two from Bruce. “But Dad’s not here so my usual place is nonexistent. Apparently I was here before and set up shop nicely. I figured it wouldn’t hurt too much to move right back in. Can’t beat the view and Cass didn’t complain.” Then again, her and the other woman kept missing each other enough that there hadn’t been much talk on the matter of her taking up house. “How about you?” She cast a glance in his direction as she set the kettle down. “Staying at the Manor?” It was what Robins tended to do, after all. "It was something. We used to joke about Bruce's anal-retentive attention to detail, but in some cases, it really came in handy." Or all cases. They liked to tease their mentor, because it was something they were allowed to do, and it was a gesture of affection for them. Their banter was one of the ways they communicated. "In the beginning it was just Dick and Bruce, but we all started piling in eventually. I keep thinking we should try to do more of it here." For Tim, the idea of not being that organized was strange. He picked up Bruce's love of balance and efficiency. It was frustrating to know how separated they all seemed to be, when it would be easier to have a common goal. "Peppermint. Decaf is fine, it's not one of those late nights for once." They used to have double shifts. When Tim was going to school and attempting to have a real life, he learned how to avoid sleep. Caffeine worked at first, but eventually it was sheer will power. He did have a natural eye for picking up on hints and clues around, but he tried to keep his observations to himself when it was being around an ally. "Another you here before, like me? I'm glad not to be the only one, I guess." There were a variety of reasons this whole situation sucked, but that was top of the list. He hated feeling responsible for something he didn't do. Tim shook his head and crossed arms against his chest, a natural defensive posture. "No, I'm staying in my house. It's not far from Wayne Manor." Far enough away that he could get space. Tim didn't exactly trust Jason and Damian yet, and they could go in and out of the cave as easily as anyone else. “Which? Teasing or scheduling?” That of course was teasing of her own but her mind was quietly working over the logistics of a schedule out there. It wasn’t too hard to contemplate, a series of schedules, people working in tandem. Nothing that would separate them from any other working force, like a band of cops. But these weren’t people she knew and how well they could stick to it, or get along with it, was anyone’s guess. “Feels like they have a system already. They just started without us.” The thought sounded more bitter aloud but it couldn’t be helped. She was displaced. She could run along the same rooftops and chase the same leads but in the end, this wasn’t her city anymore. And she wasn’t sure where her place was in it now that her shift was covered. She thought he might know something about that. “Worse, everyone wants the other me.” Well, maybe not everyone but it certainly felt that way. “They want who I’ll be, not who I am. They got the outdated model when they really need the upgrade.” By the time she was finished she was sighing, stopping in front of Tim as she handed him his peppermint decaf tea. “Close enough to be on hand but far enough so you don’t get underfoot? I can get behind that. How are you adjusting to…” Her free hand made a vague wave to their surroundings before raising her own mug of tea to her lips, “all of this.” "Both. I think we could all do with more teasing. Everything's so serious here." Tim remembered the good times. Well. Some of them. They did happen, he was pretty sure, they were just spaced out with all the rest. "We've always been … serious. But we were also a team. A team dedicated to poking fun at Bruce to see if the vein in his forehead would pop out. And justice." He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. It was drying fairly fast. His expression grew somber when she pointed out they started without them. He knew exactly what that felt like. "From what I've heard they don't really have much of an organized system, with or without us. People just do what they want." And he was sure some good came out of it, but it did seem like a few steps back in comparison to what they were used to. "I'm sorry if I added to that feeling," Tim said softly, taking the tea. He did wish his Babs was here, but he didn't think about how that would mean this one shouldn't be. Unless she wanted to not be there, the way he felt. "No one wanted the old me, I hear he was a real pain in the ass." It was surprising for him, mostly because he was usually the 'good' Robin. Until recently he went out of his way to be more obedient and trustworthy, since he was the one who begged Bruce for the job in the first place. He blew on the tea since it was hot. "I'm not adjusting well." She might not be his Babs, but she was a Babs, and he felt comfortable enough to be honest. "I don't like the way things are here." A team dedicated to poking fun and meting justice. It made her grin. She was a solo operative, still felt that way even as she tried on Oracle’s computers and shoes every once in a while. But when teams were put that way, she had a hard time dismissing them out right. “It doesn’t help that some of the bad guys I’ve known are on our side this time.” Riddler and Harley. It never failed to boggle her. “I’m not saying this Gotham’s that much better than our places back home, but it certainly takes some kind of strain off when the Rogues Gallery isn’t so full.” She waved off his apologies. “You didn’t mean it, kid. No one does.” She would’ve been a lot more pissed if they were but as it was, she was annoyed and irritated but she couldn’t take it out on any of them. Instead she withdrew, let them have their camaraderie and jokes and spoke occasional and didn’t interfere so far. It was working well enough, even if it kept her feeling disconnected. She gave a half shrug and sipped her tea. “I don’t think anyone’s an expert on adjusting well to finding themselves in alternate realities and replacing their predecessor,” she reminded him with a wry, half smile. “In fact I think by the end of it, we’ll be the experts.” No one else was taking this world too badly but then again, everyone else seemed to be on their first tour. It was all a matter of perspective. “But let’s hear it. What don’t you like. What would you change? Other than, and here’s a wild shot in the dark, more structure.” Oh it was just wistful thinking and talk, she knew. She wasn’t convinced this crowd was going to welcome any change, least of all from them. But there was no one else to admit these kinds of thoughts to than each other, and she figured maybe getting it off his chest would ease some of those adjusting problems. "That's new for me too. I haven't spoken to all of them yet, but ... yeah. It's an adjustment. One I'm not completely comfortable with." Tim tried to be open minded, and he trusted the judgment of Bruce and Dick. Steph, he wasn't too sure about at the moment, although he owed her enough he kept his mouth shut. "The Riddler's dating my ex-girlfriend. That's one I'd never see coming. If Dick started dating Harley, I'd just assume everyone here needs their heads examined." They all did at one point or another, with what they went through, but there were varying degrees. And dating someone who tried to kill all your friends, that was a head scratcher. "I wonder what happened to the other us. Did they cease to exist? Because they can't just ... go back to being us, otherwise we'd remember, you'd think." Tim was a detective. He liked facts. He liked things that made sense and could be broken down. Sometimes that just wasn't possible with the world they lived in. There were other worlds and superhumans and situations that defied logic. Here they were in yet another situation that he couldn't fit into a comfortable box. He smiled wryly at her reference to structure and shrugged a shoulder. "I'm obvious about that one. I was the third Robin, things were already a well oiled machine by then. I'm not used to feeling like we're in the black." Tim worked hard to set himself apart from the others, but he was glad at that point he had predecessors, because Bruce learned from them and trained him differently. "I think more communication in general? And ... well this is something that can't be replaced. But we were a family. Dysfunctional, yes, but real all the same." He sighed and drank his tea, pensively thinking it over for a few more seconds. "And considering what we're talking about here, it'd be great if people stopped holding us accountable for the things the other us did. Or expecting the same thing." “Yeeeeah,” Babs said, nodding with a wince. She had gathered a bit about Tim and Steph from Oracle’s files but, as they were both near strangers to her, it meant very little to her. Still, it was shocking to think that someone so integral to the Bat Family had started to date someone Babs was used to categorizing in the usual rogues gallery. Everyone was taking it in stride, some more than others, and Babs tried not to blink more than twice about it often. “Not that it helps any, or that it’s the same thing, but the second I got here, I had Catwoman telling me to check up after Dick. When everyone got so chummy with everyone else is beyond me,” she said with an exasperated shrug. Thoughts of their other selves had her staring down into her tea, solemn and silent. Where did their previous selves go? “Not really something I try to think about, mostly because I doubt there are any answers we can find.” She took a sip of her tea once more. “Probably back to where or when they came from. I like to think they haven’t been wiped from existence since we got here. Alternate universes have to keep existing long enough to return to.” She wouldn’t have minded returning to the one she came from, and the longing flickered across her face before she could stop it. She listened intently as he rattled off his changes, and nodded firmly as he brought up the last time. “Agreed. A fresh start is nice.” She had that mostly, the few moments of feeling unsteady and not up to snuff when pitted against the shadow of Oracle aside, but a cleaner slate for Tim wouldn’t be a bad thing. He seemed like a good kid and the other Tim’s work should have had no bearing on him. “Are we talking more communication in terms of patrol or in general on the network of devices we have?” She couldn’t deny that both would be helpful but she wouldn’t exactly say she was that up to casual chatter with everyone. At least more so than her occasional piping up. "I'm only slightly surprised about that. Selina stopped being one of our rogues awhile ago, she has her own area in Gotham she protects. She's not exactly a teammate, so open concern for us is new. Outside of what it'll mean for Bruce." Bruce and Selina were off and on involved with each other, a fact that was well known to the group, but Bruce never liked talking about it. Sometimes it was a subject they could tease him on. "She hasn't talked to me since I showed up. They do seem like they're all a unit, in a weird way, don't they? The people who have been here a long time. Even if they hate each other." It was alarming to walk into. Plus it wasn't better to feel like Dick was closer to Damian now. Salt in a festering wound. "Oh yeah, we've seen all kinds of strange alternate universes before. There's an endless amount of them." Tim wasn't a fan, not just because it was a head scratcher, but because an alternate version of Superboy killed his best friend, the real Kon. The worlds vying against each other for supremacy was never a good thing. He noticed the longing, and understood, oh how he understood. "I wish I could find a way out of here, to be honest, to go back to my world." He didn't like it here, and he didn't want to make it his home. "Both," he answered firmly. "Patrol would be top of the list, I'm sure we have plenty of cases we should be trying to get involved with. Who knows how much crime has gone under the radar because we don't have it together." More so than his world, he assumed. They were on the ball there, and very few things fell through the cracks. It was inevitable, but at least Tim was confident on the whole they had it together. Bruce was dead, but now Dick - and Damian - were on the job. "Scattered like this, I'm not sure how much good we're really doing. Or at least not as efficiently as we could." He wasn't sure what to do outside of bringing it up to Bruce and hoping this one eventually came through on it. He was still unsure of how to handle this version. "And I think talking casually on the network and devices is good for team building. It personalizes our attachments." After a pause he smiled. "That sounded cold and rational, but the banter was important." “Outside of Bruce,” Babs muttered with an amused little roll of her eyes. From where she came from, she had a feeling that was something in the works, somewhere behind the scenes. To know it progressed further than that never failed to make her smirk and sigh, in equal measure. “They’re a group all on their own, that much is obvious. Trying to find a place among them is…” They were going over the same ground again and she shook her head. It was strange, to know that the space you used to occupy was now, in a way, filled with someone who stood on the other side of the line. No one could take their place, hers or Tim’s, but there wasn’t exactly much room at the table anymore. That made two of them, longing for home, and she tossed him a fond smile over the rim of her mug. “They’re stuck with us. Or we with them,” she said with a bark of a laugh. “I’m sure if there was a way home someone would’ve found it by now. We live. We deal. It’s going to be life for a while.” Who knew how long a while would qualify for. She listened intently as he clarified his list, a small smirk tugging at her mouth. He was so thorough, it was amusing and fascinating. She often used to wonder about the boys Bruce mentored. The two she knew, she could see their own personalities shine through. But Tim was different in that she didn’t quite know him, and she marveled quietly at hearing years of training come through so easily. “Banter on both ends, got it.” She took a sip of her drink. “And if that doesn’t work?” If that didn’t meet his standard, really. “If they like what they’ve got now? Would you follow along here in Gotham? Stop? Or move on to somewhere else?” Tim smiled wryly in response and shrugged. "At least they didn't start up until after she went clean, so to speak." Selina was still a vigilante, and she wasn't on the side of the law, but she worked with them, not against them. He was pretty sure Bruce hadn't gone there until that changed between them, but none of them were sure about exactly when it started. Just that it did. "Trying to find a place among them is difficult, hopefully not impossible." Because he couldn't really see any other option. He could stay on Callie's side and never go back, he doubted anyone would miss him. But he didn't want to have an entire life inside the head of some random girl. "Yeah, people might be used to this place now, but I can't see them giving up easily at first. Not with how stubborn most of us are." It was difficult for Tim, seeing everyone just giving up. They fought each other and apparently the government, it made a JLA out of villains. But no one was trying to change their situation. That was beyond freaky for him. "Over a year, at least, probably two. I don't know exactly the date, but. Jesus this could be us for years." It was an alarming thought. Tim frowned at her questions and drank his tea, thinking it over. "I can't make them do anything. I can ask Bruce, they'll listen to him. I guess ... after that if no one listens, all I can do is claim a territory and do it alone." He laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound, it was brittle. This really was some sort of hell for him, all things considered. "It's not actually funny, but ... right before I came here, I broke off from everyone. I burned my brides. I wanted to go on my own. And now here I am, on my own, and all I want to do is go back to how it was." So it was karma, getting back at him somehow. He shook his head. "What do you want to do?" “Years,” she breathed with a low whistle. He wasn’t the only one alarmed at the thought. Existing on the fringes wasn’t ideal and the prospect of it extending for a while made her stomach fall just a bit. She had worked hard to find a place with Bruce and Dick and while she knew it was technically still there, re-carving it out didn’t sound like fun. “Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that.” That things would change or that they’d escape somehow. Babs wasn’t sure which was more plausible. She smiled ruefully as he spoke of his own universe, what he did there and how it mirrored back here. “It’s not like you knew you’d end up here. Don’t beat yourself up about it, kid. I always wondered what it might be like having a protege and apparently I had two.” She could only shrug as she drank down the last of her tea. “Not sure yet. I could take back my name or try to be the woman they want me to be here. I could take off. I hear I did pretty well for myself on the other coast.” Platinum Flats didn’t seem like a place she would have chosen for herself but Oracle had a few years over her. There had to be some appeal. “Besides, Green Arrow’s here on this side with the Justice League. One of them.” Saying it outloud was still a new, strange, and funny little feat, and she let her lips break into a more playful grin. “Who’s looking after Star City? Or anywhere else for that matter?” It wasn’t a plan. It wasn’t even remotely resembling a plan. But the way her smile quirked a little at the corner of her mouth, she wasn’t completely teasing. Nothing wrong with looking at all the options. At least the two of them seemed to have common ground. For the first time, Tim felt like he was actually connecting to someone else there. Dick and Steph were from his world, but there was huge gaps between them now, due to this place. He hoped he could make the ground up, because he wasn't willing to give them up, but it felt good to talk to someone who got it. He wasn't surprised it was Babs; she was always the best sounding board of the group. "I'm crossing my fingers. Leaning toward months at most." It was out of his hands. "No, this was definitely not where I thought I'd end up. I guess I took it for granted I'd eventually come back and pick things up." It was arrogant of him to assume that, with how he walked out on everyone, but for once Tim hadn't been really thinking too much. He was usually the calm one, not the temperamental Robin. Bruce was one loss too many, and it set him off. His eyebrows went up at her implication and he smiled. "New name, new city? No one says Gotham is all there is. I haven't gone anywhere else." He wasn't sure how that worked with the doors. He heard Metropolis was around at one point. The other cities had to exist. "If we're stuck here and we can't have what we did before ... I don't know, maybe it's a good idea to start over." That's what they told him to do. Start over. Move on from the past. Easy to say, less easy to do. "Hey if you do start the Birds of Prey, a Red Robin is a bird, just saying." (TAG) |