#robin is magic

Jaybin, after one of his first fights with Bruce: So you’re calling the old man “B”? Wing, with resignation: You know how much he cares about this whole secret identity thing, so I decided to get creative Jaybin: But he’s old… Wing: Look, B could stand for Bruce, B could stand for Batman, the thing is no one knows. Besides, he likes both black and yellow, so he’s kind of like a bee, right? Jaybin, still upset about something that happened earlier: The only B I see in him is “bitch” Wing, agreeing: Oh, that too. 100%

(“the weather warmer, he is colder”)

Ok but what if people actually did?

Au where Tim had like a week break from boarding school he didn’t told his parents about so he can go and have fun without supervision

Except half way there he started to feel lonely, like he is never with his parents and don’t have the distraction of school

So he tried to go and take some pics of the local vigilantes and where they seemed like in a brake just chilling on a roof he called out for Robin

Then he explained and Robin is all “huh?” And Tim is like “isn’t that your thing? You said it all the time I just wanted to test it”

So Robin is stuck taking care of this child and trying to cheer him, they end up talking and bonding and Robin considers changing his slogan to prevent this type of things again

They saw each other for a bit the rest of the week till this random child suddenly disappeared (went back to boarding school)

Summary: Jason steals a skateboard. He gives it to Tim. Dick is looking for his brothers.

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Jason didn’t mean to steal a brand-new skateboard.

It just kinda… happened.

The Outlaw mission was supposed to be simple—some arms dealers, a couple of explosions, maybe a car chase that maybe had multiple driving laws broken..

Nothing that warranted a -technically- stolen skateboard.

But there it was, tucked under his arm as he made his way back into his Gotham apartment at dawn, still wearing his gear.

He found it occupied.

Tim was perched on his kitchen counter like a baby gremlin. His laptop was open beside him, and there was an empty coffee cup near his foot.

Breaking into each other's places was pretty normal for the Bats. Jason's seemed to be a favorite of Tim's, though, to be fair, the little gremlin had been spending more time with the second-eldest brother than Dick ever since the whole Bruce-in-the-time-stream incident. 

Jason had tried to pretend that he wasn't worried about Tim during those days, and right after he'd come back. He'd failed.  

Jason sighed. “Hey there, little crow.”

Tim looked up, tired ice-blue eyes locking onto the skateboard. “...That for me?”

Jason blinked at him. Looked at the board. Looked back at Tim. “…Yeah, I guess.” Tim beamed, hopping off the counter, giving the elder a quick squeeze before grabbing it from his hands.

“Sick.” He flipped it over, inspecting the design. “Where’d you get it?” Jason dropped into a chair, rubbing his face. “Some idiot tried to hit me with it after grabbing it from a store.”

Tim paused. “And you stole it?”

“I confiscated it, little one,” Jason corrected. “Kept it 'cause I heard your old one broke. You can paint it, too. It’s a crime-fighting skateboard now.”

Tim snorted. “That makes it better.” He set the board down and stepped on it, testing the wheels. “Man, I missed my old one. I think this one's better quality though...”

Jason leaned back, watching as Tim carefully rolled back and forth in the middle of the kitchen. He still looked exhausted—probably hadn’t slept at all—but there was a small, genuine smile on his face.

One Jason hadn't seen for too long. 

Jason huffed. “You better not break your neck.”

Tim grinned that gremlin grin of his.. “No promises, big brother.”

~~~~~~

Dick was getting real tired of this.

Jason and Tim had a habit of disappearing together lately, and it was weird.

Not bad, necessarily—just weird. He was glad that his little brothers were bonding, though.

Jason barely tolerated anyone on some days, and Tim was usually off doing his own thing, but for some reason, the two of them had been hanging out a lot. And by "a lot," he meant they were practically glued together when they weren’t working solo. '.....Must be a middle child thing.'

Dick had checked all the usual places: the Manor, Jason’s apartment, the Cave—nothing. Even Bruce had no idea where they’d gone, which was just insulting.

Finally, after way too much searching, he decided to do what he probably should’ve done first.

He called them.

Jason didn’t pick up, obviously. But Tim? Tim answered after three rings.

"Yeah?"

"Where are you?" Dick asked.

A pause. Sounds of.. wheels on concrete? Then, in the background, Jason’s voice:

"TIM, DON’T—"

A loud crash. A yell. Tim started laughing. It was a nice sound to Dick. Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tim. Timmy. Where are you?" Tim, still laughing, finally answered, "Uh. Nowhere?" "Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne." "Okay, okay, jeez. We’re at the skatepark." 

Dick blinked. "The—what."

"The skate park," Tim repeated.

".....I thought your old skateboard broke? Dad was planning to order a new one-" "Someone on Jason's Outlaw mission tried attacking him with a completely new and unused skateboard from a shop, so he, um....... took -I mean confiscated- it."

Dick took a second to process that. Then he sighed. "Stay there."

Tim snickered. "Sure, sure.”

In the background, Jason’s voice rang out: "I swear to God, if you hit me with that—"

Another crash. Laughter.

Dick started moving faster.

Crazy little brothers.

~~~~~~

They were indeed fooling around at the skatepark. 

Jason apparently was right about his Robin being magic, because this was the first time Dick had seen Tim this happy in a while. 

Jason was watching Tim with a half-amused smirk, sitting on a bench with his legs stretched out, arms crossed over his chest.

But it wasn’t the usual teasing smirk. There was something almost... fond, about it.

Tim did a little trick—a kickflip, of all things—and landed it without falling. He pumped his fist into the air, whooping as if he’d just won an Olympic gold medal. Jason’s laugh, deep and warm, followed.

Tim was darting around the park, expertly flipping off ramps and pulling off tricks like he was born on a skateboard. He was laughing, his eyes bright, his whole posture loose in a way Dick hadn’t seen in months—maybe longer.

It was the kind of happiness that had been mostly missing since they lost Bruce, the kind of joy that wasn’t tainted by duty or trauma or guilt. Tim had always been self-sufficient, always the one who buried his emotions under layers of work and responsibility, but this? 

This was something Dick hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

Jason caught sight of him first, raising a brow. “What?”

Dick didn’t answer at first, just stood there watching Tim, who was now expertly riding up and down the halfpipe with the same reckless energy he usually reserved for casework or missions. There was no hesitation in him.

He looked… free. Happy.

“He's never done this, in a while,” Dick murmured, a little caught off-guard by the sight. “Not this much. Not this carefree.”

Jason grinned, just a little smug. “Yeah, well. Maybe I’m a good influence.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “You’re a bad influence.”

“No, I’m a wild influence. Timmy needs to learn how to just... be for once. Relax. Even Robin gets a break.” Jason’s voice softened, but there was a hint of pride behind his words. 

Dick’s heart squeezed. “It’s good to see him like this.”

Jason gave him a pointed look. “Face it, Dick, I can be a big brother, too.”

Dick swallowed, his gaze never leaving Tim, who had just pulled off another trick and was now heading their way, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes were sparkling, bright with something that wasn’t there the last time they’d all been in the same room.

“Yeah,” Dick muttered, a little embarrassed. “I know. Just didn't think he'd take to you that much, considering how scared of you he was after the whole Titans Tower thing.”

Jason shrugged a hint of guilt in his eyes. "Took a while. I had to coax him out of hiding a lot. Got easier once I realized how much of an affection-starved little $hi# he was."

Tim skidded to a stop in front of them, breathless but laughing, hair wild and messed up from the wind. “You should try it, Dick. You’d be amazing.”

Jason gave him an exaggerated side-eye. “Yeah, sure, Dick. I’m sure you’d look real graceful on a skateboard. He's a circus boy after all.”

Tim snickered and pushed Jason lightly. “As if you could do better.”

Jason grinned, his eyes lighting up with that familiar mischievous spark. He jumped up, grabbing one of the spare boards that workers left on the side for people still learning. “You wanna bet, baby-bird?”

Tim immediately sensed his impending doom and bolted, kicking off hard and zipping down the slope of the park’s concrete incline. Jason didn’t hesitate—he followed, fast and fluid, not bad for someone who usually worked with guns and explosives instead of tricks on wheels.

Dick stood there, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched the two of them go.

Tim yelped when he noticed Jason gaining on him and booked it, kicking off hard and shooting down the slope of the park’s concrete incline.

Jason followed, crowing and gaining on the younger..

And Dick—Dick had to take a second because wow.

Both of his brothers were actually having a bit of fun like this. Usually their fun involved speeding on the road, jumping off building and grappling in the last second, dangerous vigilante-fun stuff.

But still, Dick smiled, his heart swelling a little as Tim’s eyes shone. 

This was the kid who could hack into any system in minutes, this was the kid who could plan a mission like nobody else. This was the kid that had saved their family more than once.

But now, here he was—just a kid, a little out of breath and laughing because he was having fun, like the weight of the world wasn’t on his shoulders for a moment.

This was so weird.

Not bad, though. Not bad at all.

It was awesome, actually.

Just—he’d never seen Tim -or Jason- this happy in a while.

Tim didn’t look as tired or overworked or too-grown-up as usual. He looked happy, just a kid doing kid things.

Jason didn’t seem angry or closed off. Hell, nowadays he even seemed to be working things out with Bruce. Right now he was just a big brother. 

Dick hadn’t realized how much he needed to see that.

The younger Robins had always carried their scars, but this was a side of them that Dick had almost forgotten. Seeing them together like this—light, carefree, alive—was a reminder that maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward. Even after everything.

Tim totally nailed another trick (While escaping Jason’s clutches) and looked up at Dick, ice-blue eyes sparkling with the kind of joy he hadn’t seen in far too long. “C’mon, Dick, try it! I promise you won’t break anything. Well... maybe just your pride.”

Dick’s smile widened, though his heart still felt a little tight. “You’re lucky I love you, kid.”

Jason, glancing over his shoulder from a ramp, shot Dick a cocky grin. “Face it, Grayson, me and Tim are too good for you. We know more than the basics, even if you’re a circus boy. It’s fun.”

“In a minute,” Dick called back with a shake of his head, but the fondness in his voice couldn’t be missed.

Jason laughed, then pushed off with a smooth motion, zooming down the incline after Tim. The two of them weaved together in perfect synchrony, grinning like they didn’t have a care in the world.

It had been so long since he’d seen them like this.

....

Maybe Robins were magic.

Jason had been right about that all along.

Okay, I kinda ended up stumbling into another Batfam series idea...

Love the Baby Robins trope, but of course, if you actually think about it it is horrifying to have a twelve year old investigating serial killers in Gotham...

So currently I'm more or less coming up with Supernatural Batfam ideas to cancel out the child soldier angle of Robin.

I wanted a series idea where Bruce is actually doing the right thing - or at least, choosing the least damaging option - by making the kids Robins.

So, this one.

In Indian folklore, it is believed that those who die an unjust death can come back as Other.

Which flavor of Other can vary, going from vampiric ghosts to local gods.

The usual pattern in the lore is that, those who die unjust deaths - especially if they died young - come back vengeful, dangerous.

Deadly. Not just to the ones who wronged them, but to everyone. They are furious, destructive, lashing out at every living thing.

So when someone comes back like that, the local people begin to try and pacify them. Give them offerings. Pray to them. That goes on long enough, the Other becomes benevolent. Becomes a local guardian spirit instead of vengeful demon.

Basically you deal with a destructive Other by literally taming them with love.

Thinking about how this can fit Gotham Rogues.

A lot of them had tragic pasts. Pasts that could very well have killed them.

So the Rogues can be the vengeful Others. Jack Napier who died falling into that chemical vat, Harleen Quinzel killed by a trigger happy cop during an Arkham Breakout when she was trying to protect her patients, Harvey Dent dying after the acid attack, etc.

Batman starts out hunting the vengeful Others, wanting to lock them away forever (Arkham has special units which work better than normal cells would but not good enough), but his method of dealing with Others has to change when he sees the Graysons die.

Dick falls too. And unlike his parents, he won't move on, becoming an Other... on the way to becoming one of the vengeful Others, one of the demons.

Bruce can't lock a child away in Arkham - even an Other child.

So he and Alfred basically calls in every contact they have, trying to figure out some way to prevent the kid from turning into one of the haunters.

And finds out it is possible for an Other to become a guardian spirit, if enough positive emotions are directed their way. Love and worship.

Hence, Robin.

The Light of Gotham. Adorable, popular. Hero-worshipped.

Jason had been loud and spiteful. That was how Dick remembered him when he was angry. Jason hadn't listened, and he had been reckless. That was how Dick remembered his brother when he couldn't stomach the loss that carved a hole in his chest.

Jason had stolen Robin from Dick. That was how Dick remembered him when he dreamed of burning warehouses and laughter. Jason had taken Dick's legacy and taunted him- saying that he could take Robin back from his cold, dead hands.

Well, Dick didn't want Robin back anymore. He couldn't give less of a damn about the little gold cape in his hands.

Kneeling at the foot of a small grave, Dick wanted to dig through the dirt and place the cape back where it belonged. Robin is magic, you have to be brave for the magic to work.

Jason could keep Robin and all of its magic, he could have anything he wanted, he could take the very heart from Dick's chest as battered as it was...