Chapter Text
Location: Unknown
Date: Unknown
Time: Unknown
Wrong.
Everything about this...was wrong.
The first thing he saw when he came to were people. People flitting about a large space, dressed in colorful and outlandish costumes as they moved from stand to stand; people with families talking, and laughing, and smiling; people taking photos with each other, despite being complete and utter strangers that’d met only moments before.
It would have been a laughably normal sight if it wasn’t so blatantly
wrong.
One, last Jason remembered, it had been night. The bright, unnaturally blue sky showing clearly through the glass roof contradicted that, and glaringly so.
Two, going off of the sky, he was not anywhere near Gotham. To have a sky this clear he’d have to be somewhere like Metropolis, since Gotham’s air was so laden with pollutants and chemicals that the brown haze was as much a part of the city as the Batsignal.
Three, he was alone, yet in costume. Robin never went out alone in broad daylight, because that would only be slightly less effective than screaming, “COME AND GET ME” at every villain within a 20 mile radius.
And lastly, four, he had no idea how he got here, wherever ‘here’ even was. No recollection of being attacked or dragged against his will, no lingering feeling of pain or drugs to suggest he’d been caught unawares.
No, it was as if he’d blinked, and in that moment, everything around him changed.
To say he was disoriented would be an understatement, but this wasn’t something completely out of his line of work either. He could very well be under the effect of a drug right now while Batman fought whatever villain put him in this state. Or hell, he could even be dreaming. Dreams didn’t always make sense, and sometimes Jason didn’t remember how he entered the dream in the first place.
However, neither of those options felt particularly sound. The room around him was too detailed, too alive. It stunk of body odor and was uncomfortably warm. It was too vivid for a dream, at least compared to the dreams he usually had.
Which only left him with that growing feeling of wrongness.
“Robin?”
He felt himself turn at the familiar name—he was in uniform, after all—and found himself face to face with a girl dressed like Harley Quinn. Sorta.
She was obviously much younger than the real Harley, a preteen probably, and her costume was off. It wasn’t the familiar red and black, but instead a brighter combination of red and blue. There were other differences in clothing, with her usual eyeburning jumpsuit replaced with just some spiffed up street clothes, but that was superficial. Harley rarely had her mind made up anyways.
Still, he couldn’t help but freeze as he took her in. The not-Harley had a pleasant, sane smile on her face, and she held up a large, blue smartphone with a built-in camera the size of a quarter. “Do you mind if we can take a picture? Your cosplay is really, really good.”
...Cosplay?
Cosplay?
“Shit, I mean...sure?” His mouth went on autopilot while his mind blanked entirely. The not-Harley lit up and pranced over to his side, holding up her phone towards the both of them. “Say Batman!”
He was so, so confused, but thankfully his body was willing to just go along while he processed things. It made a cheerful, almost-but-not-quite-Dick Grayson smile, posed the way he’d been taught for Bruce’s dumb galas, and parroted the thematic parody of “Cheese!”. That seemed to be enough to satiate not-Harley, and she walked off without a hitch, leaving him to his own devices once more.
On one hand, that was good, because he wasn’t really up for a fight with a mini-Harley. On the other hand, what the actual fuck?
Jason tapped his earpiece, trying to connect to Batman or to Alfred or to anyone who could help him that wasn’t a potentially corrupt cop (which were almost all of them, by the way). Superman, maybe? With his super hearing, he wouldn’t have an issue finding Jason, but it felt silly just to call him away from whatever he was doing because he was shaken up by a Harley admirer.
The main channel he used to talk to Batman was completely silent, and so was the one connecting to Agent A. Regardless, he still tried them both, knowing it’d be foolish not to.
“Hello? B? You there?”
Nothing. He changed the frequency.
“Agent A? You listening?”
Nope.
A weight formed at the bottom of his stomach. Maybe the main channel? He rarely used it unless Nightwing was involved, but it was still worth a try.
“Hey, is anyone listening? It’s me, Robin.”
There was a silence, and with the pattern he’d experienced before, Jason thought that he was going to have the same results. Thankfully, he was proven wrong only seconds later.
“Todd?” The voice was young and somewhat accented—Middle Eastern, maybe Arab? Either way, it was young, confused, and sounded almost offended by Jason’s sheer existence. Not to mention that he said Jason’s civilian name.
Well, fuck.
This was an interesting, if not probably dangerous, development. Weighing his options, Jason eventually decided to reply, figuring that information was more important. “Who’re you?”
There were so many more questions he wanted to ask, like how the kid knew who he was or why he was even on this channel, but he had to go slow. He had to be methodical and explore everything first without risking scaring off the target, just as Batman taught him.
“Tt. Your stupidity and lack of tact are as maladroit as always.”
A hot flash of anger rose within him as the boy just brushed him off like every other rich asshole in Gotham, but as quickly as it’d formed, Jason put it out. He couldn’t let some snot-nosed kid get to him when he’d survived everything else.
He walked over to a more secluded part of the building, near what looked to be one of many exits, and leaned against the wall. Once he was sure no one was listening, he took a deep breath before talking. “That wasn’t an answer, so allow me to ask again. Who are you?”
For a moment, silence.
“...I do not have time for such poor attempts at humor. Now, explain to me what exactly you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done? Look, kid, can you just let me talk to Nightwing? I really don’t have time for this.”
Jason watched as a couple of kids dressed as fairies ran past him, and he felt as out of place as when he’d first arrived at the Manor. Halloween was months away, and even then, nobody in Gotham really followed the tradition of trick-or-treating. It was too easy to be mugged, kidnapped, or a victim of Scarecrow. Maybe this was a costume party? But the venue was huge, and there being multiple vendors wasn’t fitting for that kind of occasion.
“Nightwing isn’t here,” the boy all but growled. “Todd, I suggest you end whatever game you’re playing before I make you regret it. Where am I and what did you do to me?”
Jason sighed heavily as it became glaringly clear they were going nowhere. “I don’t know, and I didn’t do anything. I just woke up in this stupid-ass building filled with people in costumes, met and interacted with a Harley Quinn lookalike, and have been talking in circles with some fucking kid who somehow got ahold of Nightwing’s comm but won’t tell me their name. There, game ended.”
He tensed as a man dressed as a mall cop walked by, but all that happened is that they met eyes, leaving Jason feeling stupid for overreacting. It wasn’t stupid, since Batman and Robin weren’t exactly loved by the police, but he had a feeling that wasn’t his body’s reasoning.
“Todd, describe to me exactly what you see right now and what you are wearing. Talking like this in broad daylight is both cumbersome and unnecessarily suspicious.”
“Quit it with the Todd thing, my name’s Robin right now. I’m wearin’ my costume and everything. As for where I am…”
Jason straighted, back still against the wall, and looked around him for anything that resembled an identifiable landmark. While the comm boy wasn’t exactly kind or trustworthy, Jason figured that if he was a threat, it was one he could manage to fight off or subdue if he needed to.
“I’m in a corner, near one of the exits. To my left, there’s a drink vending machine and some bathrooms. The stands in front of me are mostly unremarkable, except for one that has a tall banner that reads ‘TREATS’ in bright red letters with a yellow background. It smells a bit like sugar around here as well, like cotton candy.”
He didn’t grow up with cotton candy, and he didn’t really like the taste when Alfred had been teaching him how to make much better sugary desserts that didn’t burn his throat when he ate them, but Dick had been addicted when he dragged Jason to a town fair held outside of Gotham one time. It was a nice day trip, even if it was a little awkward since they barely knew each other at the time.
“That was an apt enough description. Stay put, I will meet with you shortly.”
He rolled his eyes. “You have no right to tell me what to do. I can go wherever I want.” Jason wouldn’t, but he had to make it clear that he could.
“You—”
The voice was cut off, and the feeling of dread from before spread over Jason like Mr. Freeze’s frost.
“Shit, are you alright? Did something happen? Hey!” He pushed himself off the wall, scanning the crowds before him for a boy who could possibly be in danger. A boy in uniform.
A red and gold robot, a girl in a revealing, vaguely asian costume, a few teens in regular clothes…
No kid.
“Kid, you there?!” He tapped his comm again, hoping he’d just temporarily lost connection.
“Silence.” The boy’s voice hissed from the other side, more annoyed than frightened. Jason obliged, even if he didn’t want to. He couldn’t just disobey the kid’s wishes and find him if he didn’t even know what the kid looked like.
Anxious, he just stood there, muscles tense and eyes alert. He felt his utility belt and, other than a few less batarangs than usual, everything within its many pockets for any number of situations was there. He didn’t know if it would be enough.
Eventually, the silence was broken.
The voice didn’t belong to the boy, but another equally as young. It was a captivating, almost entrancing type of voice, one that just made you want to trust and believe in its speaker.
Jason couldn’t forget that voice when he’d heard it for so long.
“Who are you?”
It was Dick Grayson.
“Nightwing, it’s me, Robin. Do you have a kid with you?”
“Todd, please cease with your drivel momentarily.” The boy was back, so at least Jason knew he was with Dick. That was good. Dick was good with people, and he was good at identifying threats. If Nightwing allowed someone to use his comm, he trusted them.
There was a bit more static on the other end of the comm, most likely from the boy and Nightwing talking. He allowed himself to relax a bit more and rested against the wall once again, keeping an eye out for the classic black and blue suit the acrobat wore. Or even just Dick Grayson’s obnoxiously bright smile. Either would be identifiable.
“We have reached the ‘TREATS’ stand. You said you were in the corner nearby wearing your uniform, correct?”
“Yeah. I don’t see Nightwing though, not yet.”
A pause.
“That is because he isn’t dressed as Nightwing.”
Okay, so likely in some tight-fitting t-shirt with some decal on it. Not a big deal.
Why was the boy’s tone so careful?
“I’m sensing a ‘but’, so spit it out,” he said tiredly. This odd insistence on not giving Jason any information to work with was getting annoying, and his exhaustion from the day before was catching up quickly. It’d been nearly 4 AM before he arrived here.
But the boy didn’t give an answer. He didn’t need to.
Emerging from the side of the “TREATS” stand, dressed in red, green, yellow, and black, were two more Robins. The two of them met Jason’s eyes, and unlike the rest of the costumes here that were clearly theatrical or fake, the metal of the Robin insignia on their chest gleamed with authenticity.
“...Fuck.”
-0-
To his credit, Jason didn’t scream, or yell, or do anything to attract attention. He desperately hoped this was just a hallucination or drug-induced dream, because otherwise, if this was real, it left him with only a few possibilities. None of them were particularly savory.
“As uncouth as that was, it wasn’t completely unwarranted,” the shorter, not-Dick Robin commented dryly with a frown. “I suppose you’re Todd, correct?”
He nodded, slowly. Normally he would have enforced the ‘no real names while on duty’ rule, but with all three of them in roughly the same uniform, it made sense to have that kind of distinction. Besides, any listeners could believe his first name was Todd and be done with it. “You two?”
Little Dick looked like he wanted to answer, but the other Robin cut him off with a sharp shake of the head. “If we are to divulge identities fully, it will be out of costume. For now, address him as R1,” he pointed at Little Dick, “yourself as R2, and myself as R5.”
Jason really wanted to ask what happened to R3 and R4, but didn’t. Instead, he just sighed with resignation. “Time travel, alternate universe, both, or neither?”
“I suspect it’s either time travel or both, seeing as neither of you are the adults I’m familiar with,” R5 sniffed. “However, without knowing how exactly we came to be here, it cannot be certain.”
Little Dick eyed both of them, having not said a word to Jason’s face since looking like...that. “The best course of action would be first to understand our environment and assess the situation. Afterwards, we can branch out by finding more allies and create a plan to handle the situation at hand. Make sense?”
Damn, even as a kid Dick was a good leader.
“Yeah, it makes sense. However, walking around in real Robin gear, even in a place like this, isn’t a good idea. It's just asking for attention. I say we try to find a clothing stall ASAP and secure some civvies, since there are plenty of people that aren’t in costumes walking around as well,” Jason added thoughtfully.
Both Dick and R5 nodded in agreement. God, it was weird to see Dick so young, and to see a kid he didn’t know in the Robin colors. It hurt a little, to know this kid would eventually replace him, but it actually hurt more to know that there were at least three after him, at least according to R5. How old was he in R5’s future? What did he do? Why did he give up Robin?
A dozen questions danced tauntingly in his mind, but he kept them filed away for when the time was right to ask them. Dick was right, they had better priorities right now.
“So it's settled? We search for some proper clothes, grab some bags to shove the Robin suits in for now, then get a grasp on the situation and go from there. If anyone approaches you asking if you’re Robin, just say you’re cosplaying.”
R5 pulled a face.
“Cosplaying.”
He said it as if Jason had just suggested instead he eat a pile of horse shit.
“I know it sounds stupid, but the Harley-look alike from earlier instantly assumed that was the reason for my costume. So if someone asks while we’re dressed like this, just pretend that you’re some fanboy of Robin. Let them do the talking, and maybe you’ll even get some info out that’s useful.”
Jason didn’t know why he was leading. Dick was the natural leader, not him.
R5 scowled, but didn’t object. Instead, he pulled out a neat fold of cash from one of the pockets of his utility belt. If used correctly, it could last them a decent while, but Jason hoped it wouldn’t come down to that. He definitely couldn’t risk the money being wasted;, it was just too precious of a resource in an unknown setting.
Luckily, R5 seemed to understand this. He separated two bills from the small stack and handed one to Dick and one to Jason. A neat, brand new $20. Perfect.
“I trust R2 to not waste money, as he is rather prudent when it comes to budgeting. However,” R5 frowned at Dick, “You not so quite. Before you start defending your honor or fighting my accusation by claiming I do not know you, note that particular assumption would be entirely false. That is why you two shall shop and scout out our situation while I shall search for any other Robins.”
Dick didn’t look offended, to his credit. He looked amused, actually. “Alright, I’ll trust in that statement for now. Plus, it makes sense why you’re the one scouting out any others.”
Because he knows of the Robins after me but before himself. He’s closer to the future . Jason’s brain filled in.
“Yeah. Worst case, we use the comms and meet somewhere outside on a rooftop. But so far, I don’t see any sign of danger. So we should get moving before fate has a chance to enact Murphy’s Law upon us,” Jason half-joked. “Come on Rob, let’s go.”
Without allowing Dick a chance to protest or R5 to slip in another wordy insult, Jason pulled the first Robin into the crowds.
-0-
“So, time travel?”
Honestly, in Jason’s not-so-professional opinion, Dick was handling this way better than he had any right to. The younger version of Nightwing was just as sharp in intellect and willing to cooperate, a pleasant breath of air compared to when Jason had to deal with Batman’s paranoia. Not to mention he was actually willing to speak, to joke , with Jason.
The two of them had already been stopped by three more costumed teens and adults for photos, although none of their costumes were as recognizable as the fake Harley’s. They’d posed, “acted” like they were the first two Robins, and flashed smiles for the cameras. Odd for being in a Robin costume, but nothing new for a ward or member of the Wayne family.
Now, Jason and Dick were ambling about the crowds, t-shirts and tote bags secured, but not anything resembling pants or good shoes. The t-shirts had been free after Jason answered some basic trivia regarding the Brontë sisters and had the logo of the company emblazoned on the front, but they were free and that was good enough for Jason. The tote bags, from the same company, had been purchased for a dollar each.
“Yeah, I think so,” Jason finally answered, looking away from a pair of socks he’d been mulling over buying. They had some cute cartoonish cats on them, but it was too expensive for Jason’s liking. He set them back and continued browsing the stand. “It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’s happened in this biz. Especially after you listen to some of the stories from the Justice League or any other group.”
Dick laughed a bit at that. He looked about Jason’s age, but it was hard to tell with the mask, and especially hard when he knew what Dick would look like when he was older. Still, he couldn’t be near an adult yet, not with that physique. “Fair. Hey, what do you think of these?”
They were black sweatpants with some logo on the side, probably meant for women. Jason located the price tag and took a look at it.
He nearly gagged at the price. “No way.”
“Alright. I knew it was a stretch, but they were also the first pair of pants I’ve seen here all day.” Dick set the sweatpants back with a frown, clearly annoyed at the price and unluckiness of his find.
Jason shared the sentiment, especially with how tired he was feeling. The exhaustion was catching up with him, and while he wasn’t cranky, he wasn’t in the best mood either. “Maybe we should ask around a bit. See if there’s even a lost and found we can search.”
“I can’t believe the hardest thing I’ve done after time traveling is look for a pair of pants,” Dick joked. “But yeah, I agree. Let’s go.”
They left the temporary shop and waded through the crowds once more, looking for someone who looked like an employee. Weirdly enough, when they did spot a staff member, a boy and girl both dressed as Robin were already talking to them. Well, at least this solidified the cosplaying claim, if a girl was dressed up like one of them.
Jason shot a look at Dick, who was just staring at the two of them. He didn’t look offended or annoyed like Jason would’ve expected, just a touch confused.
“Creative liberties go a long way.”
“Yep.”
“I like her headband though. It’s cute.”
Whatever had caused Dick to be bitter at Jason for becoming Robin hadn’t happened yet, if they were going with the time travel theory. It was...confusing. Different. Jason wasn’t sure what to do with something this weird, and so he decided to ignore it entirely.
They stood back and pretended to be interested in some poster with an anime girl on it, waiting for the cosplayers to leave. They could have just waited behind the kids like normal people, but he didn’t want to have to pretend to be a fanboy of himself with an actual fanboy. That would just be weird and possibly narcissistic. It left a bad taste in his mouth.
Thankfully, fake Robin and Robinette eventually left, walking off towards the exit. Jason watched to see if anyone else was going to approach the staff member, and when no one did, made his move.
It was a woman, tall, imposing, and sturdily built with dark brown hair and tanned skin. She looked like she could possibly be hispanic, and the name “REYES” on her badge only added to this theory. Reyes looked tired, but not unapproachable, lifting her head and smiling as the two of them came closer.
“Hello. Can I help you two?”
Dick nodded, and Jason let him take the lead. He had always been the more social, more friendly Robin. Not to say Jason was unfriendly or anti-social, but Dick just had this magic when it came to talking to strangers.
“Mhm! My brother and I—”
That took Jason by surprise, but he didn’t show it. Brother was a good cover, especially when they both shared several physical similarities like the black hair and blue eyes, but still. Dick being welcoming of Jason’s presence was just another strange unknown he decided to ignore for now.
“—were wondering if you knew about any places that sold regular clothes here. We were in the changing room and putting on our Robin cosplays when this guy just took our clothes and ran. And we don’t really want to walk home dressed like this in public, it’d be kinda embarrassing.”
Damn, he was good. The lie itself wasn’t super believable, but Dick sold it like he was not just the victim of the heinous crime, but also that Reyes was there to witness it.
Jason played along, joining in completely. “Not to mention lame. You convinced me to dress up like Robin because I’m not tall enough to be Batman and you couldn’t think of any other character. If any of my friends see me dressed like this I will literally die.”
Was it unoriginal to make fun of himself while undercover? Yes. But was it ineffective? Absolutely not.
Reyes looked sympathetic, but not overly alarmed by the mention of stolen clothes. Downplaying that part of the story was key, because he didn’t want to start anything that would draw too much attention.
“I’m sorry to hear that. To my knowledge, all the stuff you’re gonna find here will be overpriced merch, which I’ll be more than happy to direct you to if you want to spend your money on it. However, I suspect you don’t want to blow all your allowance on emergency clothes, right?”
They both nodded, playing along. “Right.”
Reyes smiled thoughtfully, then waved them over as she started walking. “We’re prepared for things like this. Since this convention center holds a lot of events regularly, we have a well-established lost and found. If the owner of something doesn’t claim it within a month, we put the clothes into storage and send everything else off for donation.”
She pulled out a key and inserted it into the handle of a wooden door marked “STAFF”. “We’ll charge you a dollar per article of clothing, but that’s about it. Feel free to look around, and if you need to change, just close the door. I’ll be out here, alright? I won’t leave until you’re done.”
Her kindness and empathy was a little bit suspicious, but it also checked out. The closet was lined with metal racks holding different bins marked with tape labels. It was small, too small to hold a trap, and the door was thin enough that if they screamed for help, people would hear them. If they had to, Jason suspected his combined strength with Dick’s could even knock down the door if needed.
“Thank you so much!” Dick beamed. “R, I’m gonna look around first. Mind waiting out here?”
Keep watch, more or less. Just in case.
“Yeah, I don’t care. Just don’t take forever.” Jason leaned against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest. Reyes mirrored him on the other side of the door while Dick entered and shut the door.
There was a beat, a moment of silence between them. Jason hesitated in asking Reyes any questions that would, while incredibly useful to him, be suspicious to anyone else. But if he worded things right, it could work…
“So, when does the Con officially end? These things last multiple days, right?” Jason didn’t actually know much about conventions, but he figured out bits and pieces from info he’d overheard over the years.
Reyes bobbed her head. “Yep. This one ends on the 3rd, on Sunday. That’s usually when we have the least amount of people, believe it or not.”
“Really? Why?”
“Well,” she started, “today is when all the freelance creators have everything in stock. They aren’t sold out yet, and that means people get first dibs on things that they want. By the third day, a lot of things are either sold out. Still, that doesn’t mean people can’t have fun, since a lot of professionals know how to pace themselves over the course of ComicCon.”
Oh, yes. This was great. Unintentional or not, Reyes was giving him a really good amount of information. The con lasted three days, the end was on Sunday, the 3rd (month was unknown, still), and today was the start of the con, meaning it was Friday, the 1st.
Time travel was sounding more and more like the answer, especially when last he’d checked, it was Monday, March 8th.
“Do you ever want to join in? I mean, like, dress up and walk around?”
Reyes stared off into the crowds, and for a moment Jason wondered if she’d heard him. But eventually, she shook her head. “It’s cool to see what people make, and some of this stuff looks genuinely cool, but it’s not my thing.”
It looked like she could say more, but Dick opened the door before she could decide to continue. In his arms, he had a bundle of colorful clothing, the shirts from earlier, and three pairs of sneakers.
“I guessed your size,” Dick said simply as he tossed Jason a pair of red sweatpants, the t-shirt, and some worn black sneakers. “Wanna try it on?”
Jason was gonna ask why Dick was still in costume, but the answer was obvious. No risking even the possibility of people knowing their real identities.
Jason looked at the clothes momentarily, hit with a wave of memories of times when he had gone thrift shopping with his mom before Bruce found him. “Sure.”
He slipped into the closet and shut the door, making sure it was locked. He’d normally check for bugs or cameras as well, but if Dick trusted the closet, so did he.
Off came the suit, and on went the clothes. The shirt was starchy from being so new, and still smelled slightly like a factory. The pants were soft and warm, and while they were baggy, it wasn’t uncomfortably so. And the sneakers would fit great with a pair of socks, though he could do without if needed.
All in all, Dick did a great job. Jason returned to the costume, folded the civvies for later, and unlocked the door. “You guessed correctly.”
Dick smiled. It wasn’t the bright smile Nightwing wore whenever he was with the Titans or Alfred, or a blank, complacent smile he’d wear at galas when talking to the guests Bruce invited. It was a smile that said he was proud of himself for choosing correctly, and nothing else. Self-satisfaction.
He deserved it. After knowing Jason for less than an hour, he’d been able to choose clothes that fit him, and that Jason liked, instead of the bright yellow pants in Dick’s arms that Jason suspected were for the acrobat himself.
Jason handed Reyes a $10 from their allowance (he didn’t have enough ones for the actual $9 that they owed) with a grateful smile. “Thank you so, so much for understanding.”
She waved a hand. “Psht, it’s nothing. Like I said, this isn’t the first time its happened, and it certainly won’t be the last. Do you two need any help on anything else?”
Dick shared a look with Jason. “Is there?”
There was, plenty, but like before, they couldn’t really ask without breaking cover and drawing suspicion.
“No, there isn’t. Thank you so much, ma’am.” They had to change and find R5 sooner rather than later.
Reyes, satisfied by the finality of his statement, nodded and walked off to go help someone else after locking the closet. Jason and Dick, armed with clothes for themselves and R5, were left to find a bathroom to change in. There’d been one over by where Jason had initially met R5 and Dick, but trying to walk back would probably be more effort than needed. Instead, they’d just have to walk along the perimeter.
“She was nice,” Dick hummed, eyes watching for the universal bathroom signs.
Jason agreed. She was nice, and it was honestly refreshing talking to people with no ulterior motives or murderous urges while in costume. “I figured out some stuff from her as well. Apparently, it’s Friday the 1st today. Couldn’t ask the month or year, but she gave away the day for free.”
“Friday the 1st…” Dick muttered, processing the information. “That could be October. Actually, not very far in the past if I’m correct.”
Jason stared. “How do you know that off the top of your head?”
“Some basic counting. Anyways, you’re from the future, right? Does it align with anything you know?”
Jason mulled it over as he headed towards a bathroom close by. Dick implied he was from summer, and Jason surmised knowing exactly how old Dick was would probably be a good idea, but the keystone in unraveling all of this was the year and month. “It was March 8th for me, and that’d mean the 1st of March would fall on a Sunday. So no, nothing matches for me either.”
He opened the door to the bathroom and held it open for Dick, waiting for him to enter one of the stalls before he let go of the door and entered one himself.
“Looking for a poster or book could work.”
“Publication date?” Jason gently placed his equipment away from where it had the risk of falling into the toilet. “And recent events. It works, especially since newspapers aren’t really as common as before.”
“Yeah. Both are likely to be at an event like this. We just need to look for it.” Dick’s voice floated from over the stalls.
Jason, having completely removed what he could from his costume, placed it in the tote bag before switching to his civvies. “And find R5. He said he was looking for information, so maybe he already knows what we don’t.”
Jason wanted to be more specific, but anyone could be listening in.
“Probably. He’s likely still on the comms, so we can just call him over after this.”
The sound of a door opening lined up with the moving source of Dick’s voice. Jason tugged on his sneakers, checked to make sure he didn’t leave anything out of the bag, then grabbed it as he exited the stall.
Dick turned, and Jason couldn’t help but let out a soft “woah”.
He looked even younger than Jason thought. Without the domino mask and bright colors (well, he still was wearing fucking bright yellow pants, but the shirt and shoes were achromatic), Dick looked like just some kid.
Dick obviously was having similar thoughts as he looked Jason over. Their eyes locked, blue on blue, and they shared a grin.
“Jason Todd. Nice to meet cha, Goldie.” He held out his hand for a handshake.
Dick took it after a moment's hesitation (probably because of Jason’s nickname), gripping it tightly. “Richard Grayson, but please, call me Dick.”
Jason shook his head with a laugh. “You know if you didn’t want to attract attention you’d use a modern nickname. Like Rick.”
“Yeah, but that’s too boring, don’t you think?” The acrobat rolled his eyes, but it was with a smile. He offered silently to hold Jason’s bag, but a simple shake of the head was enough to deter the first Robin.
“Whatever you say, Dick head .”
“Very original. I’ve never heard that one before.”
The two of them walked out of the bathroom, ready for whatever came next.