"So, what do we do now?"

That really was the key question. What do they do now? They had no idea why this happened nor any clue who did it. "Maybe I didn't de-age," Robin suggested. "Older me and younger me might've just switched places." He put his fingers out in front of him, crossing them over to illustrate his point. 

"We can test for residual time energy. Until then, nobody says anything about Older Dick. I'm not in the mood for a paradox," Tim replied. They nodded, agreeing that none of them wanted one of those on their hands. He went to the med bay and returned with a swap and a needle. He got a sample of both saliva and blood from the boy. The second needed some coaxing and Bruce ended up doing it because he didn't trust "a stranger" to do it. Tim kept quiet on that comment stinging. After all, he really was a stranger to this version of his brother and it wasn't said with malice. 

"How long will it take to get the results back?" Robin inquired.

"About half an hour. How about we go explain the situation to Alfred? Maybe he'll give you a cookie for being so brave with the needle," Bruce offered. The younger nodded with a smile, one that seemed to be near unshakeable. His other sons withheld laughs at the slight baby tone he was doing. "He's nine, get lost," he barked at them to keep them quiet. 

"But we didn't even-"

"I can tell," he argued. He swiftly carried Robin upstairs and hoped the sight of the young boy didn't give his butler a heart attack. It would be rather anti-climatic if Alfred survived through everything he had only to go by a heart attack from seeing a mini version of pseudo grandchildren.

"I think his protective dadsona is kicking in," Jason commented once they were sure Bruce was upstairs. He didn't fancy a scolding glare.

"Then for our sake, I hope we can send him back to where he came from. Though, if his theory is right, wouldn't Bruce suddenly remember meeting an older version of Dick?" Tim thought aloud. He could already feel the headache of time travel coming on. 

"He said he appeared without his suit, surely time travel wouldn't put him in the Nightwing suit?" Damian offered. This time travel theory wasn't adding up but if it didn't add up then what did happen to their brother? People don't just turn into children willy-nilly; even in Gotham. Either way, they were in for a lot of work.

Bruce put down Robin and told him to wait around the corner until he said to come out. It was better to ease Alfred into what had happened to him rather than just show up with a nine-year-old like nothing was wrong with the situation. The boy nodded and waited patiently whilst his mentor went into the kitchen. Alfred looked up from the washing bowl and raised an eyebrow at the face Bruce was pulling. "I know that expression. What's happened now? Don't tell me Master Damian brought a knife trick or treating," he greeted, peeling off his marigold gloves. Bruce chuckled nervously. 

"No no, Jason frisked him at the door. It's Dick," he began. He looked back to the doorway where he could see Robin rocking on his heels in boredom. He forgot how easy it was for him to grow bored.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's nine."

"I know he may act immature when he's excited but saying he's nine isn't going to do much about his behaviour. You should be happy he still feels comfortable to express how young at heart he is," he responded. Bruce groaned in exasperation.

"No, he's literally nine."

"Master Bruce, whatever has he done to get you so worked up?"

"Dick, come here," he called. When the nine-year-old came into the room, Alfred's eyes went wide. He stared at him, then at Bruce then at him again, lingering on the impossible person standing in his kitchen. 

"He's nine." Bruce fought the temptation to roll his eyes since he had been saying just that and nodded. Robin looked Alfred up and down, scanning for differences. Aside from more grey hairs and wrinkles, he didn't look that different. He was sure the suit was the exact same or at least a replica. He was supposed to be twenty-six so he guessed it had to be a replica otherwise it would be older than he was. There was a small amount of comfort that came from seeing at least one person that hadn't changed drastically. 

"Hi Alfie," he greeted. As the shock wore off, the butler smiled and knelt down. He put a hand on Robin's face as though to check that he was indeed real. 

"Remarkable. How in the world did this happen?" he asked, getting a closer look. It really was the real deal. 

"Our main theory is time travel, we're just waiting on the tests to confirm it," the boy answered. Alfred stood up with a hum. He shouldn't be shocked by the shenanigans his boys got up to by now. At least two of them had risen from the dead. 

"Well then, if you've come seventeen years into the future you must be hungry," he said getting a bright grin. He chuckled and pulled down the cookie jar, handing it over to Robin. He seized it and chomped on it happily. He hadn't noticed just how hungry he was. Maybe that was a side effect of time travel. He'd tell his version of Bruce all about it when he got back so they could make a file on it in the League's databases. "How long will it take until we know for certain he's from the past?" Alfred inquired.

"It'll be twenty minutes now. Then we need to borrow the time machine from the League. That'll be fun."

"Still not besties with the League then?" Robin asked.

"It's complicated," Bruce responded. He didn't have the heart to tell him about all the secrecy that lead them to the point where they are today. Robin had always been so close with them, treating them as aunties and uncles, and he might not understand what he did and why he did it. Plus the possibility of creating a paradox. Robin cackled at the cryptic response, all too familiar with it. 

"That's what you always say Mr I work alone," he teased.

Thirty minutes of chatter went by until the remaining brothers finally entered the room. They looked particularly awkward which couldn't be a good sign combined with the ten-minute extra waiting time. "What took you so long?" Robin asked. He'd situated himself on the counter to save everyone's backs from constantly having to either bend down or pick him up to talk to him. He also had a small bowl of celery and carrot sticks since he was still hungry and Alfred refused to give him any more sugar. He remembered the side effects well and he was too old for that. 

"I wanted to run some extra tests," Tim replied. "It seems he's not from the past. There's no residual energy. So then I did a quick toxicology and there's nothing in his system either. On all grounds, he's just a kid and nothing more." Robin dropped his carrot stick and gaped at them.

"But if I'm not from the past, then there's no way to get me back to normal," he stated. "I'll have to relive everything! Are there new League members? They called my suit Nightwing, why is it called Nightwing? Am I Nightwing? Why am I Nightwing? I must've met other people, who else don't I know about? I'm going to have to finish school all over again!" Bruce put his hand on his shoulder, silently telling him to calm down. He caught the breath he didn't know he lost and took a deep breath. 

"Our theory may have changed but we'll find a way to get you back to normal. If not, it's not the end of the world," Bruce assured him. Maybe he could do better now that he had the practice. 

"Yeah, I can have your apartment," Jason offered.

"But what about my friends? Wait, do I have a partner? Am I married?"

"You kinda slept around-," Jason said before Tim elbowed him in the ribs with a glare to keep quiet. He rolled his eyes and folded his arms with a pout. "You're single right now," he corrected.

"So I just live in an apartment alone and then patrol at night? Awesome!" They looked at one another. It wasn't really all that awesome but if he thought so they weren't going to change his mind. Keeping things positive was probably better than telling him the harsh reality that his social life was restricted greatly by his lifestyle and he can't date anyone who isn't a hero otherwise they'll think he's cheating on them or isn't interested in a relationship. 

"What do we do now?" Damian asked. He didn't fancy the idea of sharing his Robin title but it was certainly looking like that. He didn't have any backup hero names or an idea for a new suit.

"We should find where I got de-aged. All I have to do is retrace my steps and look for clues," Robin suggested.

"We should split up and look for intel. Whoever did this has access to technology that'll be bragged about," Bruce announced. "Jason take Bludhaven, Tim take downtown Gotham, Damian uptown. You're with me, Dick."

"I can retrace my steps on my own. You should check Bludhaven with Jason," the younger insisted. 

"You're not going alone. Whoever did this wanted you vulnerable. I'm not risking your safety like that."

"But B I'm perfectly fine on my own!"

"I've already told you the plan and we're sticking to it," he argued.

"I'm a man in a child's body, you can't tell me what to do," he pouted, folding his arms angrily.

"Actually, you're technically a nine-year-old. Science says so," Tim pointed out. The younger rolled his eyes and jumped off the counter with a groan. His pout was heavy set on his features but the effect didn't really hit home considering he was the embodiment of adorableness wrapped up in a bunch of cute. 

"I don't miss this," Bruce muttered before kneeling down to the boy's eye level. Towering over him would only make him feel like he had less of a choice over the matter. Of course, he had no choice over it but Bruce had to make him think he did so there wasn't a blow-up about it. "You've just jumped over ten years into the future. You might feel like you've got it all on lock but you're still coming to terms with things. One thing might throw you off and then I could lose you. I'm not letting you put yourself in danger," he explained. Robin looked to the floor, still frustrated. He was always fine on his own. He got out of there on his own, found his suit on his own and would've found Bruce on his own if Jason and Damian hadn't come along. It was so annoying not being trusted to be responsible for himself. "Dick, I've raised you once, I know how to do it again. And how to do it better." He raised his son's chin so his eyes would be dragged from the floor to his own. "I wouldn't make you unless I thought it was right. You know that."

"Okay but I get to stay up later to make up for it," he bargained. Bruce rolled his eyes. 

"Alright but only because you have no school."

"Yay!"

"Remind me to ask how he gets Bruce to do that," Jason whispered to his brothers.

"What're we? Your notepad? Remind yourself, Todd."

Robin looked around the inside of the Batmobile. It looked different but so did a lot of things so he wasn't too surprised. "You got a lot of updates," he commented, looking at the new bright lights on the dashboard. Batman nodded awkwardly. Maybe he should've used an older model to make him feel more at home. 

"Yeah, I suppose I did. Had to adapt to new technology," he replied. Robin hummed, putting on his seatbelt and sitting back. The whole of Gotham probably changed. God, would anything be the same now? "Things aren't going to be easy and I'm a little rusty but we'll be okay," Batman assured him after seeing the discontent look on his face. He smiled, hoping he was right. "Where do you remember being last?"

"I was on Oak Street. Might've been a side street there." Batman typed the address in and set off, maintaining auto-pilot. He didn't trust Robin not to do something that would take his eyes off the road. It happened way too much when he was this young and he didn't doubt it would be that way again. "Can I ask about future me since it won't cause a paradox?" Robin inquired. The trip would take thirty minutes so they had to fill it up somehow. 

"Sure, yep," the older responded. He begged whoever was up there not to get an awkward question. 

"So why is the grumpy one called Robin and I'm called Nightwing?" Batman chuckled at the description of his youngest. Well, he wasn't his youngest anymore. 

"Well, when you got older, you moved out and decided you didn't want to be called Robin anymore after Jason was given the name too. You wanted to be your own hero. You took on the name Nightwing and since there wasn't a Robin anymore and Tim wanted it once I fostered him, the name Robin was passed on," he explained.

"Oh did they do the same as me?" He nodded. "Huh, I'm a real trendsetter then."

"Very much so," Batman replied, smirking to himself. Later he might tell him about the teams he began that still continue today. 

"Where do I go on patrol?"

"Bludhaven. You moved there and found your own trouble. I get to see you once or twice a week, depending on how busy you are," he explained.

"I sound pretty cool. I guess it's nice I know I get that far," Robin said. Then he paused and sighed to himself. "But, if I stay like this, all that is gone. I might not do as well the second time around." Batman silently panicked as he tried to remember what to do. Then he realised there wasn't a section of this in the parent handbook he was tapping into. If there was a section, he sure didn't read it. Who would read that? He doubted that your adult offspring turning back into a child was a regular occurrence for everyone. "You're trying to remember what you read on Dadnet aren't you?" Robin asked. He wore a brighter smile, almost laughing.

"Parenting for idiots terror tots to terrifying tweens actually. How did you know?"

"I can practically hear the gears working overtime in your head."

"Like I said, I'm rusty." Robin scoffed.

"No way! You did that when I really was nine," he jeered. Although he was enjoying seeing him smile, Batman didn't miss him poking fun. Most of the time people did it behind his back and even those who did it to his face didn't stick around long enough to find out what he'd do to them over it. He held back the temptation to send a glare his way and forced out a chuckle. Maybe he'd let his ego grow too big over the years. Robin always knew when to cut him down to size and when to stare at him like he was a God among people but not seeing him every day must've lessened his effect. Right now, he didn't have the time to delve into that eventual self-deprecating rabbit hole. He had to find out who did this and why. He doubted it was purely for the fun of it. Gotham didn't work like that. There was something sinister in everything that happened there. "Can we go for ice cream after this?" Robin asked suddenly. He shook his head.

"You're already staying up an hour later than usual, I wouldn't push your luck."

The Batmobile slowed down as they got to Oak Street before parking up in the nearest spot. They jumped out and Robin began retracing his steps. He ran from the third side street so he should start there. Once he got to the right street, he pointed to the Nightwing suit that had long since been discarded. Batman grabbed his hand and they walked down the alley. He didn't want the younger wandering off because he heard something suspicious. They were investigating not on patrol. "Looks like whoever was here isn't anymore," Robin commented, looking around. Even though it did look deserted, Batman daren't put his guard down. Someone could be hiding around the corner, ready to jump out when they least expected it. 

"Do you remember anything else?" he inquired. Robin concentrated hard. There might've been a man holding a gun there. He looked shocked. Like he didn't intend for something to happen. He lowered it and Robin pelted it away. He wasn't chased. At the time he didn't question it. He thought this was a case of mistaken identity. Then he realised he was in his boxers and things got very confusing. Before seeing the man holding the gun, he couldn't think of anything. He cringed, getting a sharp pain in his head, then opened his eyes. 

"Just a man with a gun. I don't think he knew what was going to happen. Now I think about it the gun didn't look familiar. Nothing I've seen but that was years ago," he explained. 

"Description?"

"Hispanic male, early to mid-twenties, brown eyes and a tattoo of a J under his left eye," he recited. He tried to think harder but that only brought back the sharp pain. "Sorry, that's all I got."

"Is something wrong? You keep wincing."

"It's just trying to think before I was standing here is painful. Guess my brain is all confused with what's going on," Robin suggested. He didn't know if that theory was the right one but it would do for now. All this thinking was too much effort for one day. "I'll be okay though. We should check for that gun. Maybe it'll have some clues. You should tell the others the description too." Batman nodded and pressed his comm unit to connect to the others then gave them the description. Maybe that would drum up some new leads.

Unfortunately, this was Halloween night and the side street was well travelled by eager trick or treaters so any evidence was pretty much gone. They cut their losses after three hours of searching that side street and the areas around it for a discarded weapon. "Let's head back. I can check the CCTV from home," Batman announced, checking the time with a frown. It was getting later and Robin's extra hour of staying up was nearly over. If he didn't have a wind-down time before bed he wouldn't get to sleep for another hour. Then if he was tired he'd be ratty in the morning and if he was ratty in the morning he'd feel moody in the afternoon. Batman could already feel the stress of looking after a small child depending on him coming back and crashing over him like a tsunami. 

"May as well. Those other guys should come home too so we can mush all our evidence together," Robin suggested.

"Let's give them another hour. We could do with as much evidence as we can."

"But I'll be in bed by then and won't know. C'mon B, they've worked hard all night!" he insisted. Batman sighed. He couldn't blame him for being desperate to know what was going on. Plus, he doubted he'd get much sleep with this on his mind. Those puppy eyes Robin was giving him only made it harder to say no. 

"Alright, alright. Just get in the car."

"Thank you, B!"