The angst of the Red Robin

chapter 5

Tim grunted in annoyance, wiping his hands on his jeans. He had checked everything, but the time pocket machine would just not turn on. He brushed a hand through his grimy hair. Jason snorted and leaned against the door frame.

"What's got your feathers ruffled, baby bird?" Tim groaned, and pushed himself off the wall.

"I've been at this for four days, and I can't get the stupid thing to turn on. I've checked, double checked, triple checked, and nothing!" He kicked the machine, hissing at the now growing pain in his foot. Jason deadpanned, walked over to the machine, inspected it for a minute, smirked, then picked up the main power chord with a chuckle. Tim snatched it from out of Jason's hand, and plugged it in without a second thought. The machine hummed to life, and Tim fell back in his chair with a sigh. Jason ruffled his hair.

"You did it, kid. Now promise me that you won't use it." Tim glared at him.

"Hell no! I made this thing from scrap! It will work! I just have to figure out where in time, Bruce is!" 

"You're not going alone to some space pocket!"

"Fuck you, don't tell me what to do, you overprotective asshole!" Jason huffed and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Tim rolled his eyes, and pulled his prepacked duffel bag out of the closet, grabbing his bo staff on the way. He grabbed his notebook, and flipped to the page he stared at every night.

"Alright Bruce, Earth-22 here I come." he muttered, pressed the button, and jumped through.

**********************************

"Alright. Look, little bird, I'm sorry. I just didn't want another- what the fuck? What the actual fuck!" The room was empty. Jason knows he didn't leave. He looked over at the chair the younger sat in just minutes before. He picked up the sticky note.

'Sorry, but I have to find him! Don't follow, it's too dangerous for the world's stability.  Love, Your Red Bird.' 

"That little fuck. He's gonna get it when I tell Alfred."

***********************************

Tim dropped to the ground, and looked around. He stood up, stumbling, and realized he was on a rooftop. A burning sensation filled his throat, and he hurled, over the rooftop. Tim wiped his mouth, and checked his wrist. He still had the watch to get back. He quickly slapped on a domino mask, but just stayed in his grey jeans and black tank top. He pulled out his grapple gun and shot it across, and jumped, swinging through the streets. He continued downtown, on his way to the manor, when his grapple line was cut short. He cursed, and quickly grabbed a building ledge.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my city?" a familiar gruff voice called out, across the roof. Tim tossed his bag over, and pulled himself over, taking a deep breath. He ripped off the mask, and stumbled, almost falling over the ledge.

"B-Bruce?" the man stiffened, and quickly advanced, pinning Tim to the ground.

"How do you know of that name?" Tim blew his hair out of his eyes, bright smile growing on his face.

"Oh my god I've found you! Bruce, it's me! Tim! Tim Drake!" The man in the batsuit pressed a batarang into the boy's neck.

"Who the hell are you, impersonating my son!" the bat groveled, pushing the batarang deeper, drawing blood. Tears welled up in Tim's eyes.

"D-Dad? W-What are you doing? W-What's going on?" The bat froze, and dropped the weapon like it burned him.

"Tim? What are you doing here? I-It isn't safe!" Bat yelled, backing off of Tim. Tim wiped his bleeding neck on his sleeve. "How did you even-?"