So, Danny Gets A Job As A Repairman On The Watchtower! He's Liven His Best Life And Being The Definite

Tim is... not 100% sure why his entire family just broke into his Nest.

He's pretty sure it's because he hasn't been showing up for many patrols the last week or so. Maybe it's because he hasn't shown up for breakfast in a while. Maybe it's because he didn't show up for Family Dinner last night.

None of which is exactly or entirely his fault. He's been busy.

It's not his fault he fell into that alley and sprained his ankle. It's not his fault help found him before he could call for it.

It might be his fault that he didn't call for help anyway, but what was he supposed to do when a three and a half foot tall black-haired blue-eyed boy who looked shockingly like a smaller version of himself asked for his help taking down an organization that, turns out, was more illegal than being a Vigilante. And acting as a Vigilante was still pretty damn illegal.

It might also be his fault that he was currently blinking blearily up at a disapproving Batman, snickering Red Hood and Nightwing, and a Black Bat who was carding gentle fingers through the hair of said boy who was napping in his arms. No matter how old Danny said he was before, "just before," he was still currently in a body that needed naps. Intentions being as they were, he had wanted to get back to work, but tucking Danny in had quickly turned into a group nap when the younger didn't want to let go.

"Care to explain?" Batman grumbled, his mouth a fine line that betrayed how worried he'd been.

Tim tried to think of how to explain the last while of radio silence as he dove into research and learning how to take care of a toddler, decided that took way too much effort and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, and just grumbled back, "Nap time, B, go away."

Another de aged Dan and Ellie story or otherwise known as Crack

Pt 1 Pt2

If only Clark hadn't been busy tracking Luthor, he would have been able to save his nephew, his sons best friend.

Once again, Lex Luthor has sabotaged him. He didn't even need kryptonite to do it this time. After Lexs mental breakdown, he had apparently gone off the grid, and unsurprisingly, he wasn't able to hear anything from him. According to the snippets from Lexs staff he had apparently refused to answer to his name, started to hate it, and called his board a " bunch of idiotic bimbos who only appear to work so they could buy expensive cars and whores".

It's definitely a mental breakdown or a possession. Lex is doing something to damage his image? Unheard of. Possession didn't seem likely. What kind of person posseses a ceo just to insult his board and completely change their personality?

He had been investigating Lex's disappearance for the past month and a half and had only succeeded in not being around to stop his nephew from committing suicide.

Bruce had called out for him, but being halfway across the world he couldnt make it in time, Damian made it over the bridge and he had been searching for his body for the past 3 hours and he still couldn't find him.

He had never seen Dick so shaken before. Jason had barely been able to stop him from following his brother over the bridge. After he arrived on scence, Jason started to try to take his brother home.

"Find his body." He had told him before turning and wrangling Dick onto his bike

"Stop, Jay. I have to find him. Please... Uncle Clark, please. You have to bring him home. I have to... " He could hear Dick plead with them the whole way back to the cave.

He could only bring their bikes home.

They had now all retired to the cave. He was ignoring Alfred calling Steph and Cass in the other room. Ignoring their desperate denials and begging to be told it was a cruel prank. Ignoring Dick's full body sobs into Jason's arms, shaking them both. Ignoring Bruce's absent look and ignoring how similar Bruce and Jason's grief was.

Tim, luckily, hadn't broken his leg like what they originally had thought, only popped his knee out at such an angle it looked like it. Alfred had already reset it and listed his usual recovery despite Tim not even pretending to listen to it this time. Duke had already helped him upstairs, eyes red and swollen.

Finally the the tense silence came to an end.

"Did you find anything?" Bruce, one of his oldest and closest friends, asked, his voice calm and steady, his heart unwavering as ever but he knew better.

"I'm sorry."

"Search again."

Just as he was about to fly out again, the elevator opened.

"I found this in Damian's room." Tim hurriedly spoke he was already rushing past him on his crutches to the evidence processing, not even explaining what "this" even is.

"Tim. Explain." Bruce limply rushed past him following quickly.

Like father, like son.

"What is it?" He turned to look at Dick, he had tear stains but his eyes were dryer his mouth was set in a firm line but he was leaning heavily on his younger brother.

"Tim found something." He responded quietly, and he continued on following his friend.

They sat silently together while Tim and Bruce worked together without speaking like a well-oiled machine firm in it's objective.

He'd say Jason was as still as a corpse with his eyes glazed over unseeing, but the was far from an appropriate observation considering everything.

99% Match found. Partial fingerprints detected unknown. The computer had finally accounted after 15 minutes of silence.

He and Jason waited for Bruce and Tim to tell them instead of jumping like Dick did to get the first look. He doubted Jason could get up, Jason was strong so strong, but he was still so young.

They all were.

Especially Damian, despite all his headstrong confidence and borderline arrogance, he will still only fourteen.

Only fourteen years old and dead by suicide.

He still needed to tell Jon he was buying time by the well-timed expedition of him and Kon already off planst and galaxy on whatever Kon called "brotherly bonding with a little but of interplanetary fighting and toppling monarchies splashed in and maybe we'll catch a movie on the way home" they had joined some green lanterns to help rescue some new green lanterns who got in between a revolution on accident. He remembers researching for days before letting Jon go, but even just the name of the planet now escapes him.

It all seemed so trivial now.

He had seen what became of Dick and Bruce when Jason had died when Dick had been off-planet, and Bruce hadn't reached out to tell him. He just hoped Jon could forgive him.

"Clark. Where is Lex Luthor." Bruce demanded turning to finally look him in the eyes.

"I'm not sure. Lex went underground a month and half ago. Why? What does he have to do with this?" Clark asked carefully. He had to be careful not to set Bruce off.

" AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TELLING ME? Bruce's voice rose exponentially.

Too late, he couldn't help but think.

"His fingerprints are all over this goddamn envelope. Whatever was inside made Damian kill himself, and you're asking what does it matter!"

"How do we know?" Dick spoke softly, his eyes still glued to the results.

Everybody turned at the same time. Jason's head snapping so fast he winced.

"Know... Know what?" Tim asks him just as softly.

" How do we know Damian is.. is dead?" He spoke again, looking up to glance at them all.

" I know, Damian. He wouldn't just kill himself. He couldn't have. He showed no signs of ever even contemplating it. Not even... Damian would have told me.. Would have trusted me to help him. Lex must have taken him or.. or somehow lired him away." Dick spoke hurriedly or desperate but still completely convinced.

"Chum.."

"FUCK!" Jason exclaimed standing up and kicking his chair sending into the wall hard enough to crack the plastic. His hands shook like they were itching to wrap around someone's throat. They twitched and he ran his hands through his hair, his eyes were greener than ever and glowed so strong there seemed to be a small headlight in front of him almost.

He could be out there being tortured or worse! And we are just sitting here twiddling our thumbs like FUCKING BABIES!" His voice grew louder and louder until he was screaming into their faces.

"Jaylad-" Bruce started just by hearing that name he knew whatever Bruce was going to say was going to be the complete wrong thing.

"We are going to find him. No matter what it takes. I never gave up on Bruce, and i can't give up in my baby brother either." Tim spoke up, his voice unwavering his heartbeat never stuttering, not even once.

He risked a glance at Bruce. His old friends face was softer, looking at his sons, but his frown was determined, and he tilted his head in the way he always did when he wasn't going to give up.

They were going to bring him. They just have too.

---------

Crack

Boy, was Damian glad about this storm. He quickly realized that he couldn't use more than one of his powers at one time. He was able to make it to the coordinates of the apparent luxurious island Vlad was hiding out on.

He was expecting actual underground, not just some shell company bought island decked in lead and man-made waterfall galore.

He was absolutely soaking wet and shivering by the time he crashed onto the island. The storm just kept on thundering down on him, plastering his clothes and hair to his face in clumps. He better not get sick from this.

Cold fog escaped his throat, and he shivered even more.

"Daniel! Is that really you?" Lex fucking Luthor called out after he'd been laying exhausted and chilled to the bone in the grimy muddy sand for a few minutes.

"Hey, fruitloop." Was the first and last thing that he said before promptly passing out.

Poor Danny is just trying to do well at his job at WE! But annoyingly, they frown on him working late. Sent home, once again by well meaning security and still caught up in design thoughts, Danny gets hit by cuddle pollen.

Suddenly he must keep all the little liminals safe! They're so bitty! They don't even have full cores! He has to protect them! Goes eldritch horror and stuffs them in his plumage to carry around like those water birds.

Poor Batman is just so done.

Jason and Damian keep trying to escape. It does not work. Eventually they get this thing to the Cave and make it a nest to keep it there. Tim asleep before they mange, followed by Duke (look, it's late for him, okay?) and Steph.

When they wake up in the morning, in one big cuddle pile, there's a strange man among them and from the way it looks, and Damian isn't sure if he's got a new pet or if Father has a date.

That is absolutely beautiful. After the third or fourth time everyone can tell when Danny is possessing Tim. Eventually someone snaps and asks Danny why he keeps possessing Tim rather than just hanging out. They don't expect a real answer as Danny always gives vague half riddles but he's very tired and just sighs as he swirls his cup of coffee. He turns and looks Dick in the eyes as he replies, "because they can't track me as long as I'm in a host body. You don't have to worry about them finding this place. I teleport in and immediately possess Tim, it takes their instruments at least 45 seconds to even get a solid direction. I just need a few days until they calm down and I don't have to worry about being shot as much." He then looks away as he sips his coffee, having answered Dick's question yet raised so many more.

Anon marry me right now I love how this is going.

After a tad they manage to do a really fuckin freaky like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation for Danny and Tim where they can like talk back and fourth through Tim like a normal conversation. It’s really weird to look at because Tim’s body language and facial expressions half the time aren’t his own, but they get used to it. For now this is a compromise until the Bats can figure out who they are. There are people trying to track the Ghost King and even HE fears them?! What people could be so powerful and despise this ray of sunshine so much that they want to track him down the minute he appears on the mortal realm?!

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3,…

Danny: Robin, don’t do this!

Damian: How dare you tell me what to do. You are not my father!

~Danny’s last brain cell twitches~

~~~

Danny gets down on a knee with the ring box.

Bruce: Do I understand correctly? You need this performance so that in a dispute with my son you have the last word.

Danny: Absolutely. Our short-lived relationship will be as platonic as you want.

Bruce:

Danny: Please bear in mind I will fly to Thalia if you say no. Her father will obviously not mind having me as a relative. But what will Damian say if I give him a younger brother?

~~~

Danny: Damian, put your sword down.

Damian: I already told you are not m..

Bcuce: Show your father some respect, son.

Damian *sees The Ring of Rage on Bruce’s finger* 

Dick *falls off the chandelier and wheezes with nervous laughter*

Danny *in a panick*: Are you okay?

Dick: i’m sorry.so-so..dad.i mean Danny..dad hAghAha

~~~

Damian: Pennyworth, call the place where you ordered Jason’s memorial. I want to order a gravestone to remember the day I buried all respect for this family.

~~~

Jason: Alfred, Alfred, I can..

Alfred: Ask your father, my dear boy.

Jason is on his way to ask Bruce about expanding the family library.

Danny in the chair: Hey, Jason!

The route is automatically rebuilt.

Jason: Hey, daddy, can I kill the Joker? Danny: S-Sure?

~~~

Red Hood to Reporter: Daddy said it’s OK.

~~~

Danny: Don’t look at me like that! You know I can’t refuse children! Dani looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I’m ready to give her the moon. Bruce: We’re getting a divorce.

Tim  *is eavesdropping outside the door* , *was ready to ask Danny if Conner could move into his room*: Happiness was so close.

I just think

It’d be really neat if Danny looked more like Martha Wayne than Thomas Wayne.

LIKE

I love the Danny Fenton looks like Thomas Wayne or Danny Fenton is Thomas Wayne reincarnated — but the BEAUTY of Martha??

Of Alfred interacting for under five minutes with Danny, dabbing his eyes and going, “That is indeed Martha,” I WANT IT. I want Martha who was spunky and sassy and wanted to do good for her town the same way Danny wants to do good for Amity Park.

I want Martha who loved to take Bruce and the family out to star gaze because her baby had never seen the stars before, and the way his eyes light up like a mini galaxy takes her breathe away the same way that Danny feels when he turns his head up to the sky yearning for something he knew loved but doesn’t know what.

I want Martha who would literally find trouble in a paper bag because she can’t help her curiosity the same way Danny can’t help tripping over his own ghostly tail and making a mess of things before he figures things out.

I want Martha who would fight men who thought they held power, going absolutely feral from stress the same way Danny does when he’s tired of not being able to do his homework or pick up a vacuum against the wall to clean because ghosts.

I want Martha who loved the pearl necklace that Bruce had picked out for her birthday, and Danny reaches towards his neck and startles when his fingers only touch skin when he is certain there was something supposed to be there. I want Danny whose eyes linger on whites and pearls when he passes by open window stores in the mall, fingers itching to flick a nail against the smooth surfaces.

I want Martha who died bleeding underneath the hand of a gun, hoping to everything above that her boy would be safe, and Danny whose body burns at merely looking at the makeshift guns his parents create in the lab, his heart pounding desperately with a yearning to save there was someone she wanted to save the ghosts.

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5]

As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.

The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”

It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.

Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.

It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.

They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.

He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.

After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.

And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.

Well, usually, it’d be trash.

Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.

“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”

Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.

Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.

Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.

“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.

“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”

Danny waved vaguely.

“…What are you?”

“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.

“…”

Neither, apparently, was the answer.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”

“…I see.”

“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”

With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.

Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.

“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”

Batman nodded once, sharply.

“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.

——

Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.

And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.

When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”

“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.

“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”

Batman sighed. “What are you?”

Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.

“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”

Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.

“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”

——

Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf

Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)

Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)

Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)

——

Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*

——

Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:

Sea spirits

Sea vampires

How to parent supernatural kids

How to thank your sea child

Are shells a good gift?

Ocean conservation efforts

Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight

Sea spirits that cleans up beaches

Wayne corporation waste disposal

Companies that dump trash into the sea

*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*

What is “mean girls”

——

Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:

Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*

You know what seriously doesn't get played with enough?

In the grand, shared, doll set of Danny Phantom?

The cultural alienation.

Is Danny up to date on Human Memes? Did he see that movie? Hear about that celebrity drama? He lives here, amongst us, WITH us. But? Feels... half out of the loop.

And? He can't SHARE his passions with us.

Is he REALLY gonna show his new lecture buddy that hot new Kryptonian Sci-fi series he picked up from the Zone's nearest mega market bookstore? Invite a neighbor over for some sparkling ectoplasm laced soda and a binge of this cool Alien animated film from a long dead planet's artist guild? They're trying new mediums, apparently! Danny thinks it's pretty cool, he hopes they make more.

Oh, but maybe he can talk about games!

Except he switched to the technologically far more advanced Z-Held, years ago. They have literally billions of billions of options, since every game maker in their region of the Zone designs for it. Has for millennia.

....music?

Ghost speak either creeps people out or actually hurts to hear, if they listen too long. And "normal" music... feels so FLAT. Emotionless. Yeah, he'll LISTEN... smile and agree it sound nice. But it's... it's so bland? Less then bland.

He can't even share his food! It's a one way trip to ER! If not the morgue. Half his spices are FROM the Zone now. And Zone plants? Heeeeeella poisonous to humans. Tasty af to HIM, but... yeah. No sharing.

So like... what does that LEAVE him? Dance? Hobbies? Sam n Tucker he can share his REAL interests with, but... they went to different colleges. And protecting people isn't a hobby. It's more of a Gotta, you know? He ALSO can't join any space related clubs because now he knows WAY too much about Space.

Like "above civilian clearance, no one on this planet should know that" a lot.

He gets distracted. Too excited. He KNOWS himself.

He would totally ramble on about Space.

He's a Fenton, man. It's genetic.

So... he's lonely. Adrift. A sad, sad, semi-feral noodle of a man. And you know who would never let that stand? Who also wants to know what THE FUCK he's listen too, because it's both giving him a headache and creeping him out? Kon.

This dude reminds him of Tim. Complete with the feral energy and fluffy hair. *snaps pick* lol, bro, is you. ANYWAY, this guy? Apparently the source of the Kent family splitting migraines. That sound has been KILLING them. They need to get this guy better headphones. Aliens gotta stick together, you know? Time to go make friends.

*floats over in his shades n leather jacket* Sup~!

The first time Danny sees Dick Grayson he calls him Tata.

Danny, in his Ghost Zone travels, befriended the Flying Graysons. John and Mary like him so much, that it started as a joke, sort of.

"Ahhhhh, the son we never had! Welcome!"

"My little Robin's long lost little brother, come, come!"

And it morphed into him jokingly calling them Tata and Daj. Then it wasn't really a joke anymore.

Then the Observants inform him that as far as Ghost Law is concerned, they're his Ghost Guardians.

This means that Danny has two sets of parents; Jack and Maddie on the human side of things, and John and Mary on the ghost side of thing.

So when he sees Dick Grayson, who looks a lot like John, it just slips out.

This leads to a very awkward stare off in the middle of a coffee shop.

Danny has no idea how to explain himself.

"HOW DID HE FIND OUT?!" Bruce asked, calmly. (Batfamily Chronicles Microseries)

Young Tim getting the job as Robin in the best (confirmed canon) way possible. I honestly love that this happened in the comics, but as you can see, this is my headcanon and embellished. I did a rewrite of the original version of this.

Tim (13 at the time) chewed on a Pop-Tart he brought to Wayne Manor, along with a briefcase.

Alfred: Timothy Drake, Master Wayne and Grayson will be here in a second.

Tim ate his whole Pop-Tart and turned to see Dick and Bruce, mentally reminding himself to not freak out... That didn't work. 

Tim: OH MY GOD, YOU'RE DICK GRAYSON!

Tim rushes and hugs Dick, burying his head in the man’s stomach. 

Bruce: Um, why did you— 

Tim: Give me a few seconds, other guy.

Bruce: Other guy? Ouch.

Dick patted the kid on the head, confused but enjoying the appreciation.

Tim (elated): This is the greatest day of my life, and I haven’t even gotten to my proposal.

Dick (confused): Which is? 

Tim (clinging to the man’s body): That you, Dick Grayson, son of the Flying Graysons, are Nightwing, that you were the first, yes, first Robin, and that I’m hugging you! You smell like citrus fruit! 

Tim smiles.

Dick: Thanks, I use a special body wash— What the hell did you just say?

Bruce shook with rage as Alfred took a seat with a plate of cookies, ready to watch the spectacle. Tim stopped hugging his hero and bounced eagerly.

Tim: You’re Nightwing, who was also the first Robin, before Jason was brought in, and my hero, Dick Grayson of the Flying Graysons! This is awesome!

Dick (noticing Bruce glaring at him): Good joke, kid. I have no idea what you are talking about. 

Tim: Oh, don’t worry about Bruce; I know he's Batman too. 

Alfred: I'm elated to be witnessing this.

Alfred ate a cookie as Bruce’s expression turned from rage towards his oldest son to shock. 

Bruce: Hypothetically speaking, because you're not correct, what evidence would you have... child.

Bruce glared at Dick with the last word because of the fact there’s a young child who might have figured out their identities.

Tim: You want to see my evidence? Oh my God, I never thought I'd see this day coming! I've been holding onto this information for years!

Alfred chucklef.

Bruce (gritted teeth): For years?!

Tim (not noticing the obvious tension): Look at me; I gotta control myself. Fanboying like this. I’m so sorry! Let me get my proof ready. 

Tim opened his briefcase. Dick felt an intense glare from Bruce.

Tim: You know the first suit you had was gaudy, but it worked for you. You are so cool, Nightwing. 

Dick: I will tell Nightwing that, because he is not here… Bruce, please stop looking at me like that.

Bruce (whispering angrily): I will slap you like a pimp if we can't dispute the proof.

Dick (whispering): It could’ve been because of you.

Alfred (overhearing the two): No, it's not; he discussed what he found out before I got you two.

Dick took a few steps away from Bruce.

Dick: Hey, Tim, show us this disputable proof. 

Tim: You remembered my name! This is going well so far. Okay, let me get my first piece of evidence. To start, I have this picture I got at the circus, the one with the mother-flipping Dick Grayson! I’ve had it for a time, but kept it in pristine condition. This wasn't what clicked in my mind; I was young at the time. I wanted you to sign it.

Tim passed Dick the picture and a Sharpie pen. Dick signed it with his exact signature that he would use for a Nightwing autograph causing Bruce to throw his hands up angry, already seeing what's about to happen.

Tim: I’m a big fan of the Flying Graysons, which Dick Grayson was in. Then he got adopted by Bruce Wayne after his parents died— so sad. For a few years, I couldn’t connect it since I was so young and naive. 

Dick: How old are you now? 

Tim (excited): Thirteen! 

Bruce (in disbelief): You're… Thirteen? 

Bruce slowly turned to Dick.

Bruce: Thirteen?! 

Dick: He hasn’t proven anything yet.

Alfred kept chuckling as Bruce talked to Tim.

Bruce: Let’s pretend that I am Batman and... my soon-to-be-yelled-at son is Nightwing. How did you figure that out, young man? 

Tim: Oh my God, I love this part. Four years ago, I was in town, and Nightwing stopped a criminal, and while being his usual awesome self, he did this really cool, stupendous trick that I’d only ever seen when Dick Grayson was in the circus. I kind of put two and two together after that. And I'm not even kidding about that! I was able to figure out that you had two different Robins, that you are Batman, and that Jason Todd—may he rest in peace—also was adopted by Bruce Wayne, who had adopted Dick Grayson who moved to bludhaven where Nightwing, stay with me now, lives!

Tim drank his ginger tea from his thermos, parched after unveiling all the information he learned.

Bruce (deadpan): That was a lot to process. 

Dick (nervous): You said four years ago… Wow, is it time for my appointment—

Dick attempted to escape, but Bruce yanked him back by his ear. 

Bruce: No, no, no, you need to hear how this fan of yours figured it out. The fan that four years ago—meaning that he was freaking 9 years old—figured out how you are Nightwing and also were Robin, and about to be smacked!

Dick: I could stay a few minutes because that’s circumstantial. That doesn’t mean anything. Tons of kids know that move.

Tim and Alfred: No, they don’t.

Bruce: I’m actually going to beat your ass. That’s for later though; continue your theory, 13-year-old boy!

Alfred (intrigued): Keep going, child; you’re doing great.

Bruce growled at Alfred to stop talking, but Alfred shrugged with a smile.

Alfred: The young man shouldn't be afraid to tell you how he figured it out. Go easy on him; he's not the one that’s about to be in trouble. 

Tim (unaware of the tension): Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.

Dick: Oh Lord, he’s so sweet too. Um, I mean this is circumstantial evidence, debatable if we could even call it evidence… such a coincidence! No way would I be that awesome and attractive! Look at me; I’m wearing khakis. I can’t be Nightwing. I am not that strapping Casanova with amazing hair who rocked that first suit. Thank you for that compliment, by the way… Nightwing will like to hear that.

Tim (hugging Dick again): Aw, Nightwing, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I was a fan of both of you, and learning you’re the same person… I just love it!

Bruce (chuckling dryly): That’s going to benefit him in the next 5 minutes when I’m screaming in his ear.

Dick: I doubt he has any other proof. 

Tim: Wait, I’m not done yet. That’s how this picture returns to the play. When I met up with you as Nightwing two days after you stopped that criminal, I pretended to put myself in danger so you could save me. Then, when you did, I had you sign a page in my autograph book. You signed that and —I'll get to the picture itself.

Tim took out a small notebook from his briefcase and placed the photo on the table. Dick, Bruce, and Alfred examined the autographs. Dick futally attempted to sneak away but Bruce grabbed him by his arm and brought him back over.

Tim: It’s an exact match! Hm, last thing.

Tim removed the cap on the marker and scribbled a mask over young Dick Grayson’s eyes in the picture.

Tim: If you cover your eyes like this, it’s the exact same guy. That’s all. 

Alfred clapped like a man at the opera. Tim's smile beamed at the appreciation. Meanwhile, Bruce and Dick's eyes widened, but Bruce became incredibly angry.

Tim: I sat on this info for a few years after that. Then Jason Todd—may he rest in peace—died. So here I am at Wayne Manor, ready to be Robin. Do I have to tell my parents about this? I don’t mind—they travel a lot; they’re the best! That’s why I was just wondering if it’s okay to tell them. 

Bruce (chuckling, but in a manner hiding his rage): He’s not an orphan and doesn’t have a terrible home life. This is just great! A 13-year-old boy figured out YOU, not ME, are Nightwing! I told you… I told you!

Tim: You believe me? Please, believe me. I’ve done a lot of research. 

Bruce shook from the cuteness intelligence of the child.

Bruce: You are right!

Dick: God damn it, yeah, you’re right.

Tim: Yes! I did it! I cracked my first case! I can be the new Robin! I can be your brother! I’ve never had a brother! 

Tim hugged Dick Grayson, sobbing happily. Dick patted him on the head again, feeling Bruce’s glare.

Tim (blissfully ignorant about the tension): I have new designs and everything too. Because... I’m wearing pants in this. I need to stress that. I WILL be wearing pants.

Bruce: I hate to burn down this parade, but I’m still… adjusting to the fact my son is dead and not interested in any new Robins. 

Tim: Yeah, but please, Mr. Wayne. I can be a great sidekick.

Bruce: How come I get Mr. Wayne when you call him Nightwing at every turn?

Tim (looking at Nightwing with a smile): He’s my hero.

Dick (sniffling): I... can’t be here.

Dick runs off; Bruce chased after him then walked back to his office, gripping the man’s ear.

Dick: Ow, Bruce! I’m sorry! Ow! I’m sorry! I thought it was foolproof! Let me talk to— Ow!

Bruce Wayne shoved his son into the office, then slammed the door shut behind them.

Bruce: In all my years as a hero, you’ve talked to me about telling a woman I’m Batman, yet you, Mr. Let me wear an eye mask and do acrobatics, got I.D. by a child! I'm livid, but also amazed at how you did not LISTEN TO ME!

Dick pouted, holding his head down, but it wasn’t because of Jason’s death.

Bruce: Don't you do it. Don't you cry!

Dick bursted into tears, sobbing like a child.

Bruce: Nope, nope, not falling for it! This is your fault! You had to do the stupid circus tricks, which I told you not to do.

Dick (between sobs): The kid seems really... smart, and my costume… was a good design! 

Bruce: He figured out who you were when he was 9! He was in third or fourth grade when he figured out who you were! At least I only got Jason as Robin because he was stealing my tires!

Dick: Why are you yelling at me?! 

Bruce: I'm not yellin—

Bruce took a breath.

Bruce: I’m not yelling; I’m talking sternly because… I'm angry, and it happens to sound loud! 

Dick (whimpering): That's yelling!

Dick sobbed, covering his face. Bruce rolled his eyes. Alfred opened the door without knocking or asking to come in.

Alfred: You should look at his designs; they're pretty good and have pants. 

Dick: Mine was a cute design!

Bruce: No, it wasn't. Alfred, just feed the child or something while I deal with my idiot. 

Dick: Rude... Alfred, don’t leave.

Alfred closed the door, heading back to give Tim something to eat.

Bruce: I have to figure out something because I can't deal with another kid sidekick. It's not happening.

Dick (wiping his eyes): Because you miss Jason? 

Bruce didn't respond, deciding to leave the office and tell Tim to leave.

Dick: Wait, Bruce, don't talk to him!

Dick tackled Bruce to the ground and tossed him back into his office, slamming the door shut, leaving Dick in the hallway.

Dick: I will handle this. Especially I missed Jason's funeral after finding out he died.

Bruce (behind the closed door): I had to carry his dead body!

Dick: It's not a contest!

Dick headed to the kitchen, where Tim was coloring his suit design with a red colored pencil.

Dick: Hey… Tim, want to get... ice cream together and chat about possibly becoming Robin?

Tim (trying to remain calm): I would... I would like that very much. 

Tim dumped all his materials back into the leather briefcase, jumped out of his seat, and headed to the door. Dick sighed, pulling his car keys out of his pocket.

Dick: I'm never living this down. 

Alfred: Not at all. Be nice to the child though.

Dick groaned, then forced a smile and took Tim out for ice cream. Bruce was going to be cold towards Tim, but Dick saw the vigor in that kid's eyes. Plus, he was a fan of his, and he needed that kindness at the moment.

It took some convincing and Tim saving Bruce's life, but the caped crusader reluctantly took Tim Drake in as his third Robin. At the time he was doubtful where things would go. Tim saw the pain the Batman was burying, he saw the man was at a breaking point and would either break his kill rule or kill himself and Tim didn't want that to happen.

He may have been a huge fan of Nightwing, but he respected Batman enough to aid him not only as a sidekick, but a son/friend.

And the rest... is history.