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Damian knows a lot of things about himself. He knows he is Robin - the best Robin that there has ever been, if you asked him. He knows that all of his family loves him dearly and that most of them would quite literally strangle him if they could. It’s a fact that doesn’t bother him much - the if they could didn’t just mean societal pressures. Damian is quite confident that if one of his more deranged siblings, such as Todd or Drake, attempted any such assassination of their younger brother… Well, he had proven that he wasn’t that easy to get rid of. He’d come back from the dead once already, and he would be damned if he ever let Todd upstage him in something as simple as resurrection. 

The other thing that Damian knows is that sometimes his father gets into what he would describe as a dangerous headspace. It usually occurs when one of his siblings (or himself, on a rare occasion) does something that could be described as stupid and almost gets themselves killed. This time, the culprit was Grayson, and while Damian did agree with his father about Grayson’s recklessness, he didn’t agree with the fact that it had landed Robin on the bench. 

Damian wasn’t technically benched, by normal standards. His father hadn’t necessarily grounded him, or even given him orders to stay at home. But every time Damian got down to the Cave to head out on patrol with the man, he was either already gone, or he gave Damian some sort of excuse not to take him with him. A few times, Batman himself hadn’t even gone out, working instead on the computer. Damian had offered to help with that, too, but his father only gave him something that seemed superficial. It irks him. He knows deep down it isn’t because his father doesn’t trust him. He knows he’s earned that trust, and his father isn’t someone to just throw trust away once it’s earned. Heaven knows that’s part of why Todd is still around. 

Tonight, though, is especially frustrating. Damian was already in his suit, but between slipping into the locker to change and coming back out, his father had booked it into the Batmobile, and it was now speeding down the tunnel out of the cave. Damian growls and throws his mask on the ground. “Damnit!” 

“You know, you really shouldn’t swear so much,” Drake hums, coming down the stairs. He was much less concerned with Batman leaving Robin behind - he didn’t have to be supervised on patrol, unlike Damian. It’s something else that irks Damian. His brothers are all allowed to fight crime on their own. He was only four and a half years younger than Drake, and Damian knows for a fact that three years ago Drake had been allowed to patrol alone. 

Drake’s comment also irks him. He was thirteen years old. He could swear if he wanted to. He throws a bat-a-rang at Drake, hitting the coffee mug that had been in his hand. The hot liquid splashes over Drake as the mug shatters into pieces. “Damnit, Damian!” Drake hisses, shaking the coffee off of his shirt.

“You really shouldn’t swear so much, Drake,” Damian huffs cooly. He picks his mask up off the ground, and glances at the tunnel where the Batmobile had disappeared down. Drake frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything as he grabs a towel to wipe up the mess. Damian goes over to the stairs unhappily. “I am going to call Kent and ask if I may see Jon.”

“Hey, grab me another mug of coffee!” Drake calls up after him. Damian has no such intentions. It was eight at night, Drake could have coffee in the morning like a rational person. He really should be taking better care for his health. It was beginning to get concerning, honestly. 

Instead, Damian pulls out his phone, calling up Clark Kent. The man picks up the phone on the first ring. “Hello, Damian.”

“May I speak to Jon?” Damian asks, and he can hear a small sigh as Kent most likely gets out of whatever chair he’d been sitting in.

“Yes, you may.”

“Damian?” Jon’s voice takes over on the phone, sounding just as excited as the boy usually is. 

“Hello, Jon,” Damian plops down on his bed with a small frown. “You should ask your father if you can come over. Mine has abandoned me once again, and I have nothing else to do.”

“Well, I still have a report I need to finish for class, but I can ask.”

“Bring it with you,” Damian shrugs. “Perhaps I could assist with it.”

“Man, you must be really bored.”

“Grayson is injured and Father keeps going on patrol without me,” Damian grumbles unhappily. Jon sighs heavily, and the phone is mostly quiet for a moment, likely due to Jon asking his parent’s permission to come to Gotham. 

“Dad says I can go as long as we stay at your house,” Jon hums. “I’ll be there soon!” 

“Wonderful,” Damian hangs up without another word, flopping back onto the bed. He couldn’t wait for Jon to finally be allowed to have his own phone. Then he could just text him, and this wouldn’t be such a hassle. He almost thinks he might be more excited for Jon to get his own phone than Jon actually is. Damian had even offered to buy one for him, but Kent had told him it was not a matter of buying one, but that him and his wife had both agreed that Jon would not get a phone until he was thirteen. Unfortunately, that means that Damian has a good two years to wait. 

Jon knocks on his window, snapping Damian out of his thoughts. He has a cheerful grin, waving at him. Damian goes over and opens it for him, and Jon lands softly on the ground. It doesn’t take long before he has an arm slung over Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging him. “Hey Damian!”

“Hello, Jon,” Damian pretends to be annoyed. He isn’t, not really. Jon’s presence has begun to be something he has grown used to, and, dare he say, fond of. 

“So. What do you want to do?” Jon tilts his head to the side. He has his typical Superboy jacket on, which is good. Damian glances around, squinting. He has learned that he has to be careful with his words. It was almost guaranteed that Kent would be listening. 

“I was thinking that we would play a board game. Monopoly, perhaps?” Damian hums, and Jon’s eyes light up a bit. 

“Yeah, okay! Are you going to be the dog? I’m assuming you want to be the dog.”

Damian nods in an affirmative, and then he really does get the board game out. It would be best to actually play the board game for a bit, to erase any suspicions. Both from Kent, and quite possibly from Pennyworth. The old man also had a knack for knowing when Damian was plotting something. Damian would almost believe that he, too, was actually Kryptonian, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d seen Pennyworth holding up Kryptonite without so much as a flinch. Still, he is convinced there is something going on with that man.

Nevertheless, an hour later, and Damian is staring contemplatively at the Monopoly board in front of him. It’s nine thirty on a Friday evening, though, and after not getting any action in the field for over a week, he’s beginning to feel restless. He glances at the door to his room before he gets up and grabs a notebook. Jon’s head tilts to the side as he watches him. “What are you doing?”

“I want to figure out my finances,” Damian says out loud, but then he writes on the paper, holding it up to Jon. I do not want your father to be listening in. 

Jon seems to get it, and then holds out a hand for the notebook, which Damian easily passes him, along with the pen. Jon scribbles something out and then passes the notebook back to him. I knew you didn’t want to just sit in here and play Monopoly. Jon has surprisingly neat handwriting, although Damian supposes that maybe it shouldn’t be that surprising considering he was the son of two prized journalists. It was neat, but not the intricate cursive of Damian’s own handwriting. 

Would you like to go on a mission with me? Damian writes out, and he isn’t surprised when Jon vigorously nods his head. Wonderful. I am going to go downstairs and tell Pennyworth that I have forgotten Titus’ walk and say that I should do it now. You will slip out the window. Once I am outside, you can pick me up and we will go.

Go where? Jon writes back with a small, confused frown. Damian sighs, trying to think of something besides just out . He thinks back to the line of cases his father had been working on just the other day, and then he smirks. He knows just what they’ll do. 

There was a new player in Gotham not long ago. Father didn’t bother looking into it much, because it was just a thief and he had more pressing matters. However, I think we should look into it, since Father clearly has given up on it. 

“Isn’t Se-” Jon cuts himself off, realizing he’s supposed to be writing. He holds out his hand for the pen again. Isn’t Selina a thief? 

Yes, but she isn’t an unknown. We know Kyle’s intentions. We have yet to figure out this mystery man’s. 

Jon shrugs and stands up. “Mkayyyyy, it looks like I win.”

“Preposterous,” Damian looks at the board, shaking his head. Jon hadn’t even been close to winning, what was he playing at? Then Damian pauses and rips out the notebook paper. He quickly writes burn it on the back and then tosses it to Jon, who blinks and then doesn’t hesitate to incinerate the page. Having a friend with laser vision was useful. “You did not win.”

“Oh, whatever. Let’s just watch a movie,” Jon hums. “Ooooh, we should watch one in the Cave!”

Now Damian got it. The Cave is the perfect cover up. It’s sound proofed, so Kent will likely assume they’re in there. At least, that was the hope. If Kent really wanted to, Damian had no doubts the man would be able to pinpoint them again. Jon had explained to him once that it wasn’t quite that simple though, that unless his father knew their actual location or they were saying something that specifically picked them out of a crowd, it would be difficult. Still, if he really wanted to, he could do it.

Damian shakes his head, and then heads downstairs to enact their plan. “I will meet you there, Jon. I must take Titus outside first. Pick a movie and I will be there shortly.”

“Any movie I want?” Jon has a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Damian simply huffs and rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, Jon. Whichever movie. I do not care.”

Jon chuckles, and Damian heads downstairs. He finds Pennyworth quickly. “Pennyworth, I have forgotten to take Titus on his daily walk. I am going to take him now, if that is alright.”

“It is a bit late, don’t you think?” Pennyworth lifts an eyebrow at him. 

“Pennyworth, do you think so low of my talents that you think I will have issues with defending myself should an issue arise?” Damian lifts one of his own eyebrows back at him challengingly. Pennyworth sighs, as if deciding the argument isn’t worth it. 

“Very well, Master Damian, but do be careful, won’t you?”

“Of course, Pennyworth. I will be careful.”

***

Alfred knew something was off the second that he saw Titus sniffing around the study. He wasn’t sniffing at the clock in particular, just sniffing around. It was something the dog did occasionally, especially if Damian is gone. And Alfred knew Damian was gone, but the issue was, he’d said that he was going to take Titus with him. 

The man opens the stairway that leads into the Batcave, going down. He has a sinking suspicion that he’ll find the Robin suit missing when he gets down, and he’s proven right. Tim is sitting at the computer, slumped over and asleep. Alfred sighs and goes over to shake his shoulder. “Master Tim?”

Tim has a bit of drool forming at the edge of his mouth as he looks blearily up at Alfred. “Heh?” 

“Have you seen Master Damian? I am afraid he has run off on his own again.”

Tim blinks and then turns to look back at where the suit was most definitely missing, suddenly more alert. “I saw him when I first came down. He broke my coffee mug, by the way. I dunno, he did seem pretty mad that Bruce left him behind again.”

“I see,” Alfred sighs. “I suppose I shall contact Master Bruce and let him know of the situation.”

“Myeah, okay. I’ll ask Babs to keep an eye out,” Tim shrugs, going back to whatever it was he had been working on at the computer.

“Thank you. And Master Tim, do try and get into bed at a decent hour tonight. Heaven knows you need the rest,” Alfred sighs tiredly. He does his best with this family, he really does. Somehow, though, even though they weren’t biologically related, the gene that told most human beings to take care of their health seemed to have skipped every single member of the household. Except for, perhaps most surprisingly, Master Jason, who had the lack of self preservation replaced with some frankly horrible luck. 

“I’ll go to bed as soon as I finish this, I promise,” Tim hums, his eyes not leaving the screen as he opens another file. Alfred sighs. That was precisely what he was afraid of. Finishing this , no matter what the ‘this’ was, typically lasted anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Still, he doesn’t comment on it. Tim was eighteen, and technically an adult. If he chose to stay up too late and it causes him problems, at this point, it’s his own fault. 

“Let me know if you hear anything from Master Damian,” Alfred turns to leave the Batcave with a small frown. His mustache twitches a bit. He can just tell that Damian is up to something. He doesn’t know what that something is, but he has a feeling it isn’t anything good. Perhaps it might be wise to tell Bruce about the situation.

***

Jon yelps as he dodges the bright yellow blast that had been heading for his face. It hits a lamp post behind him, and the thing seems to pop out of existence. He looks back at the man who had shot the blast at him, eyes wide. “Holy cow, that was close!” 

“Focus, Superboy,” Damian growls from the ground. 

Suffice to say, things were definitely spiraling out of control. It turns out that the robbery was done by some sort of sorcerer, which looking back on it, might have been the reason that it hadn’t been too big of a priority. Jon doesn’t know much about Batman, but he does know that the guy isn’t exactly great up against magic. Neither was Superman. It was one of the few things the two heroes could usually agree on - magic sucks.

It’s a bit late to turn back now though. 

Jon is about to hit the guy when he sees another yellow bolt. This one is heading straight for Damian. He dodges, of courses, but the beam catches onto his cape. The next thing Jon knows, his best friend has completely disappeared. He freezes in a horrified shock. “Robin?”

He doesn’t even register the yellow bolt that comes for him next. He can’t move. He can no longer hear the steady heartbeat of Damian. The bolt hits and he screams out in pain. It hurts , his blood feels like it’s on fire. He rips at his arm as if that’s going to somehow be able to do something to help, and he opens his eyes. It’s a swirl of pinks and purples around him, and he has the oddest sensation of both flying and staying completely still at the same time. He hears something that sounds like a piece of paper being torn in half and then-

Well, and then he’s floating in the sky and everything feels… Normal. He blinks a few times in surprise, looking down at his hands. The pain was completely gone. His hands were still there. He looks down at himself. His jeans have rips in them, but those had been there before anyway. He wiggles his toes experimentally. Those were still there. 

Jon pauses as he looks down further. 

Damian is floundering inside of a dumpster. He finally grips the edge of it with a tight grip, pulling himself up. The look on his face is absolutely malicious. Jon is almost positive that he’ll have to hold his friend back from taking any lethal measures against the guy. 

That makes Jon pause though. Where was the guy? He was nowhere to be seen. In fact, they were most certainly no longer in Gotham. That puts a quizzical look on Jon’s face. He flies a bit higher with a small frown. The skyline is full of huge, tall buildings, but it’s smaller than Metropolis or Gotham. Too big to be Star or Central. He doesn’t recognize the skyline he’s seeing either, which means it’s unlikely that whatever city they’re in is one he’s flown through before. He frowns more. He’s flown through a lot of cities with his dad. 

“Hey, Robin?” Jon slowly floats back down, then pulls away a rotten banana peel that had gotten stuck to Damian’s cape. He lands softly on the gravel with a soft crunch , and then sucks in a breath. “I think we lost the guy.”

“Impossible! We were only down for a moment, he cannot have gotten far-” Damian pauses after taking a few steps, apparently reaching the same conclusion Jon had about no longer being in Gotham. Even though Damian likely can’t see much of where they are, Jon figures he would know the alleyways of Gotham like the back of his own hand. It certainly seems like it every time they’re together, at least. 

“I don’t know where we are,” Jon supplies helpfully. He pauses for a moment, listening. He can hear a lot - he can always hear a lot. He hears the ocean not too far away, and he can hear hundreds if not thousands of people bustling through the city. There’s a lot of conversations going on at once, and it’s difficult to focus on just one, but he picks up on quite a few distinct phrases. “We’re on the East coast,” He informs Damian with absolute certainty. That was good. They weren’t too terribly far from Gotham or Metropolis. “I think we’re in New York. I don’t know which city, but I’m hearing a lot of people say stuff about New York.”

“Diabolical,” Damian spits out, glaring hard as he starts walking. He stops, narrowing his eyes back at Jon. “Get us back to Gotham.”

“You have to ask me, Damian,” Jon crosses his arms. 

“Fine. Will you take us to Gotham?” Damian frowns at him. Jon stares back at him expectantly, slowly lifting an eyebrow. Damian lets out an insufferable sigh. “Please?”

“Of course I will, Damian! Thank you for asking so politely,” Jon puffs out his chest, and then snatches Damian as he flies up into the air. He starts flying in the direction of Gotham, but as he gets closer to the City, he starts slowing down in confusion. Or rather, as he gets closer to where the city should be. The island that was just off the coast of New Jersey was entirely missing . It wasn’t a small island, either. Gotham City was massive, and for the entire plot of land it was built upon to just be gone was… Well, it was concerning. “Um… Robin?”

“I thought we were going to Gotham,” Damian frowns. 

“This is where Gotham should be!” Jon raises his voice a bit more than he might have needed to, but… Well, he was starting to get freaked out. Besides, there’s no way he wants Damian to try and pin the blame on him for this. It isn’t his fault that the entire city had suddenly disappeared. 

Damian is silent for a long moment. “I would normally never suggest this,” He looks back at Jon with a serious frown. “But I would call your father.”

Jon nods sharply, having no qualms with that. “SUPERMAN!!!!” He shouts as loudly as he possibly can. He frowns when his dad doesn’t immediately show up. He always shows up immediately. Always. 

“That normally works,” Damian notes uselessly, crossing his arms with a hard scowl as he leans against the brick wall. He hums and taps his comm link that was in his ear. “Batman, this is Robin. Code 776 Alpha.”

Jon has no idea what Code 776 Alpha means, but he has a suspicion that it’s just Damian’s fancy way of saying “I’m lost.” Maybe he would ask Kon about it later - he was always much better at getting information out of Tim than Jon ever was about getting information out of Damian. 

Damian’s scowl deepens when he narrows his eyes. Jon can definitely tell that the kid was raised by assassins just by the glint in his eye. “All I am receiving is static,” He dully informs.

“What does that mean?” Jon’s suddenly worried. Sneaking out on patrol didn’t usually result in him getting into too much trouble. It was usually a stern lecture from his mom, and maybe he would be grounded for a night or two, or gain some extra chores. But this was way worse than having to do the dishes when it’s not his turn. This was concerning . “Do you think we’re in another dimension again?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jon,” Damian rolls his eyes. “Obviously this is Earth.”

“I said dimension , not planet,” Jon grumbles, crossing his arms. 

“The last other dimension we were in was most certainly not Earth-like,” Damian shrugs, and Jon decides to drop it. There were plenty of other things that could explain why Gotham  was gone. Of course, Jon can’t think of any, but he’s sure there’s other things. 

“It was just a thought,” Jon plays off with a heavy sigh, looking around. “What do we do now though?”

“If we cannot get into contact with either of our parents, then I suggest we investigate further as to what happened,” Damian hums, already beginning to walk. Jon blinks and follows behind him, thinking that’s probably a smart idea. He pauses though, stopping in his tracks. 

“...FUCK!” He suddenly shouts, at the top of his lungs. The word echoes through the alleyway, the soundwave bouncing from wall to wall. Jon squeezes his eyes shut tightly as he waits for his dad to fly right over and give him the biggest chewing out of his life. He’d probably be forced to eat soap - and he really, genuinely can eat soap, cursed alien biology. He peaks an eye open when nothing happens and he pouts a bit. “I thought for sure that would work.”

“You thought swearing would bring your father here?” Damian lifts a judgemental eyebrow at him, and Jon lightly shoves him. 

“Oh shut up. It was worth a try.”

Damian doesn’t seem to believe so based on the look he gives him, but he doesn’t make another comment. He pulls out a device from his pocket and begins messing with it, but Jon doesn’t pay it much attention beyond that. He’s learned that Damian’s gadgets, while they might look cool at first, were generally uninteresting. Instead, he kicks a pop can that had missed the garbage can, being careful not to let it get too far away. It lands about ten feet in front of them, and then Jon kicks it again once they’ve caught up, repeating the pattern. He finally looks over at Damian after kicking the can about twenty times, realizing he has no idea where they’re going. “What are you doing?”

“I am attempting to find my father’s satellite signal,” Damian huffs. “It is still not showing up.”

“Well, Gotham itself isn't showing up either. Maybe it’s not there,” He stops at the look that Damian’s giving him, and back pedals a bit. “I mean, maybe we’re somewhere else. I’m sure Gotham and the satellite are still there , we just can’t see or reach it.”

“Hm,” Damian says simply, which Jon takes to mean “You’re right and I don’t want to admit it.”

“If we assume we cannot get into contact with anybody ,” Jon scratches his chin in thought, squinting. This was hard. “...Well, I guess we could… Uh…”

“We should ensure our survival as a top priority,” Damian says after a moment, and Jon blinks in surprise. 

“Are we in danger?”

“Not immediate, that we know of at least,” Damian frowns. “But if we cannot get into contact with anyone, then we must assume we are entirely alone. Which means we must secure shelter, water, and food before it becomes something we need desperately and cannot find.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just… Get home?” Jon gives him a quizzical look, but Damian shakes his head. 

“We do not know how long that will take. I have a feeling it will be at least a day though, and you are useless when you have not had your eight hours of sleep. We will begin a quest for shelter first.”

Jon’s not sure if he feels appreciative or insulted, but he shrugs it off. “We could just ask somebody.”

“Ask someone?” Damian gives him a confused look.

“I mean, yeah? We’re two kids, I bet there’s someone who’d take pity on us and let us stay with them for a few days until we can figure everything out.”

“Jon, you are far too innocent and trusting. There are two likely scenarios that would play out with that tactic. One, we find a reasonable adult and they call child protective services, or two, we find the sort of adult we would not want to stay with for any amount of time.”

Jon blinks at him, and then rubs his chin again. “But what if it’s a hero?”

“A hero?” Damian lifts an eyebrow slowly in disbelief, his voice almost mocking. Jon tries not to take it to heart. Sometimes it’s just Damian’s voice - he usually isn’t trying to be condescending. 

Usually. 

Jon stands his ground though. “Yeah! A hero would believe us if we said we needed a place to stay, and they’d probably be able to help! And they might even be able to give us ideas on what’s going on!” 

Damian hums. “Perhaps… Are there any heroes here?”

Jon shrugs. “Probably. Doesn’t hurt to check, at least.”

“I suppose we could spare enough time to go to the library,” Damian sighs. “Once we figure out where one is, of course.”

“We could ask someo-”

“No. I will find it,” Damian puffs out his chest, and Jon sighs heavily. It was asking a lot of Damian to be willing to accept help from a hero, he supposes. He’s not too surprised Damian would be insistent on finding the library on his own. Jon just follows him along. It wouldn’t do him any good to try scouting ahead either - Damian would get frustrated if he felt like he wasn’t doing enough to help in this situation, and Jon figures he may as well avoid that. 

The library that they do eventually find is nice, but there’s just one problem. It’s still dark out, and they’d forgotten a very crucial thing: libraries close at night. Damian grits his teeth as he pulls uselessly at the door like it’ll somehow budge. It would if Jon tries it, but he has enough problems without adding destruction of public property and breaking and entering onto that list. 

“I could fly around and just see if I spot anybody?” Jon suggests with a small shrug. “What time even is it?”

Damian pauses and goes to check his watch. “Assuming the time has not changed since Gotham, it is one forty three.”

“Already?” Jon blinks. He supposes they’d left at nine thirty or so, and they had been walking around quite a bit in search of the library. Still, it felt earlier than that to him. Maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t tired yet. Damian nods sharply and plops down heavily on the steps. 

Jon pauses though, hearing the screech of tires just ahead of them. He blinks, realizing some kid had wandered into the road, and he hears a frantic mother calling “Dennis!” Jon flies forward, time seeming to slow down around him as he races to catch the kid, but he realizes there’s another figure already on the case. A red arm reaches out and has the kid, and Jon freezes in surprise. That ends up causing the truck that had been about to hit the kid to slam right into Jon instead. He stumbles with the impact, but is relatively unharmed. He panics though, looking over at the driver. The airbag had gone off, but Jon can still hear him breathing and cursing inside the car. He lets out a breath of relief. At least no one had gotten hurt. 

Jon feels his arm being gently pulled out of the mess that had once been the truck’s front engine and hood, and he blinks up to see a red and blue masked figure with wide white lenses looking down at him. “Hey, kid, are you okay?” 

Jon nods slowly, getting to his feet easily. The masked figure has his arms held out, as if he’s just waiting for Jon to fall so he can catch him. “Yeah, I’m alright,” Jon finally answers him, grabbing his cape and shaking it out. He glances back at the massive dent in the car and winces a bit in sympathy. He hopes the guy’s got insurance. 

“... How are you alright?” The masked guy seems to also be looking at the dent. He puts a worried hand to Jon’s head, pulling his face around as if he’s looking for a scratch or something. Jon doesn’t blame him too much. 

“I’m Superboy,” Jon answers, then sucks in a breath. “Are you a superhero?”

“Um. Well… I’m trying to be,” The man clears his throat, and Jon squints at him. That seems like a very superheroey answer to give. Plus he’s wearing red and blue, those are also very superheroey colors. 

“Can me and Robin stay with you for a little bit? We’re trying to figure out how to get home and we don’t have a place to stay,” Jon knows it’s blunt, but he has no idea how else he would ask this guy. He seems utterly stunned at the question. 

“Um, what-”

“Hey!” The guy from the truck has finally managed to get out of it, slamming the car door shut hard . “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing! You wrecked my damn truck!”

The masked guy spins on him quickly. “I wrecked your truck? You nearly hit that kid over there, and you did hit this one! You’re lucky he isn’t hurt!”

Yeah. Definitely a hero, Jon decides. He just has that attitude. Jon looks over and sees Damian just staring at him from the library steps, not looking overly impressed. Jon grins at him as he waves him over, and Damian starts walking with a long suffering sigh. 

Jon taps the masked guy on the shoulder before he snatches his hand and starts leading him out of the middle of the street. “He already called the cops, and it looks like the mom is staying behind, I think they’ll be able to figure everything out. Come on.”

Masked guy blinks down at him again. “I’d just like to state for the record that I did not agree to anything.” 

“I know,” Jon hums. “We’ll talk about it when there’s nobody around to listen.”

Damian ends up right behind the guy. “Who are you?”

The masked man jumps, spinning around with his hand over his chest. He sucks in a heavy breath and then points right at Damian’s face. “Don’t do that!”

“Careful, he bites,” Jon jokes, letting out a short chuckle. 

“I asked you a question,” Damian’s facial expression doesn’t change, his eyes narrowed with the slightest frown. “Who are you?”

“I’m… Spider-Man? Better question, who are you?” The newly dubbed Spider-Man looks between the two of them with a squint that makes the lenses of his mask shrink down into almost slits. Jon tilts his head, wondering what sort of face he’s making underneath that mask, and then he realizes he doesn’t really have to wonder, and so he looks. He snorts a bit. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, just a regular, average looking guy that just so happens to be squinting. Actually, Jon tilts his head. He looks younger than he was expecting too. Like Kon’s age kind of young. Well, Kon’s physical appearance age, that is. Jon’s fairly sure this guy isn’t legitimately seven years old. 

“I am Robin. This is my associate, Superboy,” Damian clears his throat. “We are in the wrong city, and I have the situation handled, but as Superboy has told you, we will need a place to stay for a few days. You just so happen to be the first person we have run into that might be suitable.”

Spider-Man stares at them for a very, very long time. “...How old are you?”

“I’m eleven!” Jon volunteers easily with a hum. “He’s thirteen.”

“And a half,” Damian makes sure to add with a glare. Of course he would add the half, Jon rolls his eyes. It was just such a Damian thing to do. Spider-Man looks between them, seemingly beyond perplexed by the situation. 

“What even is my life,” Jon hears him mutter under his breath. “Ummmm, listen, I’m flattered by the fact that you’d choose me , but I don’t exactly have space for, um, kids.”

Damian lifts an eyebrow at him. “I am not a child.”

“Right, right. You’re a teenager,” Spider-Man waves a hand dismissively. 

“Do you know of somewhere we can stay then?” Jon asks, looking up at the man with wide blue eyes. “We’re really seriously lost.”

“...I could help you guys figure out how to get home?” 

“I can handle that much,” Damian huffs determinedly, puffing out his chest a bit. “I just need to test a few theories.”

Jon rolls his eyes and looks back up at Spider-Man again. “It doesn’t have to be your house . My dad’s place is made out of ice in Antarctica and Robin usually lives in a cave. We’re not really picky, we just don’t know where to look.”

“I do not live in a Cave ,” Damian frowns at him, offended. Jon shrugs. 

“Robin does.”

Damian doesn’t say anything to that. It was a sound argument. Spider-Man is quiet for a long moment before he lets out a very long and tired sigh. “Fine, I… Think I know of a place. Come on.”

Jon grins, giving Damian a smug look as they start following the masked man. He knew this was a good plan.

***

Alfred knew something was off the second that he saw Titus sniffing around the study. He wasn’t sniffing at the clock in particular, just sniffing around. It was something the dog did occasionally, especially if Damian is gone. And Alfred knew Damian was gone, but the issue was, he’d said that he was going to take Titus with him. 

The man opens the stairway that leads into the Batcave, going down. He has a sinking suspicion that he’ll find the Robin suit missing when he gets down, and he’s proven right. Tim is sitting at the computer, slumped over and asleep. Alfred sighs and goes over to shake his shoulder. “Master Tim?”

Tim has a bit of drool forming at the edge of his mouth as he looks blearily up at Alfred. “Heh?” 

“Have you seen Master Damian? I am afraid he has run off on his own again.”

Tim blinks and then turns to look back at where the suit was most definitely missing, suddenly more alert. “I saw him when I first came down. He broke my coffee mug, by the way. I dunno, he did seem pretty mad that Bruce left him behind again.”

“I see,” Alfred sighs. “I suppose I shall contact Master Bruce and let him know of the situation.”

“Myeah, okay. I’ll ask Babs to keep an eye out,” Tim shrugs, going back to whatever it was he had been working on at the computer.

“Thank you. And Master Tim, do try and get into bed at a decent hour tonight. Heaven knows you need the rest,” Alfred sighs tiredly. He does his best with this family, he really does. Somehow, though, even though they weren’t biologically related, the gene that told most human beings to take care of their health seemed to have skipped every single member of the household. Except for, perhaps most surprisingly, Master Jason, who had the lack of self preservation replaced with some frankly horrible luck. 

“I’ll go to bed as soon as I finish this, I promise,” Tim hums, his eyes not leaving the screen as he opens another file. Alfred sighs. That was precisely what he was afraid of. Finishing this , no matter what the ‘this’ was, typically lasted anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Still, he doesn’t comment on it. Tim was eighteen, and technically an adult. If he chose to stay up too late and it causes him problems, at this point, it’s his own fault. 

“Let me know if you hear anything from Master Damian,” Alfred turns to leave the Batcave with a small frown. His mustache twitches a bit. He can just tell that Damian is up to something. He doesn’t know what that something is, but he has a feeling it isn’t anything good. Perhaps it might be wise to tell Bruce about the situation.

Chapter Text

Peter has never been more confused in his entire life. He’s not really sure what to think, in all honesty. The two kids that are now trailing behind him were weirding him out. The shorter one with the mask was setting off his spider sense , and even worse, the smiley taller one was setting it off more. He can see swords with the short one, and he’s fairly certain those pockets he has all over are hiding things, but what’s more concerning is the tall lanky kid that doesn’t seem to have anything on him at all. All he has is a jacket and jeans, what could he possibly be hiding that’s setting him off so badly? 

He thinks back to the incident with the car, frowning hard. The kid wasn’t even slightly scratched. With the dent left in the car, it just makes no sense whatsoever. There was definitely something up with them. Besides, what kind of kid just walks up to a weirdo in a mask and asks if they can stay at their house? 

Actually, Peter rescinds that statement. He has a feeling that there’s a number of kids that absolutely would do that. Not smart kids, but there has to be balance in society, and that means that there are a few lightbulbs that just aren’t as bright. 

Still, it was doing nothing but prove to him that there was something up with these kids. And on one hand, he kind of wants to figure out what. On the other hand though… It’s just after two AM on a Saturday, he’s been patrolling almost all day, and he’s tired . 

Peter glances behind him, unfortunately not surprised to find out that the two kids are still behind him. He sucks in a breath, knowing that once he arrives, he’s going to have to swing off quickly lest he be shot. He makes a corner, then stops right in front of the police station. It’s just his luck that there’s a few cops outside. Perfect. He cups his hands to his face. “YO DONUT LOVERS!! I HAVE A COUPLE OF KIDS HERE FOR YOU!!!” 

The officers immediately have their attention on him, and as predicted, they’re already pulling out their guns as they run over. “It’s Spider-Man!” one of them shouts, while the other adds to the statement with “He’s kidnapping!”

Peter rolls his eyes, not bothering to try and understand why the police would ever think that he would be stupid enough to bring the kids to the police station if he’d kidnapped them. He shoots off a web, giving the two a solute before he swings back around the corner and out of sight. Does he feel a little bit bad for leaving the two kids to the police? Yeah. But whatever was going on, it was probably best left to some professionals. They’d be able to help the kids find their parents, and confiscate whatever the short one had gotten a hold of, possibly even be able to track down whoever had given weapons to a thirteen year old. It was all for the best, really. 

That’s what Peter thinks, up until he’s face to face with Smiles. He yelps, twisting his body out of the way so he won’t crash into him. He grips onto the wall closest to him, spinning around to look at the kid. He was… Floating, and the smile he’d had on his face earlier had vanished, reminding Peter of a kicked puppy. His arms are folded over his chest and the cape billows behind him in the wind. “I thought you said you’d help us.”

“I- Uh- What are you-” Peter knows he’s gaping, but come on. What’s he supposed to do when there’s a child literally floating in front of you?

“Why’d you take us to the police station?” The kid pouts at him, looking absolutely betrayed. Great. Now Peter feels like the bad guy. 

“Listen, I’m going to be real honest, I- kinda thought you were nuts,” Peter puts his hands up. He still kind of thinks they’re nuts. But also, the kid was floating. Maybe Peter’s going nuts. 

“I don’t see how you could think that those incompetent fools would be able to do anything in this sort of situation,” There’s a voice from just above Peter, and he yelps as the one with the sword is up there. How did he get up there so fast? How had Peter not noticed him? 

“We’re really not trying to cause you any trouble,” The boy floats a bit closer, and Peter frowns at the kid suspiciously. “We really do just need a place to crash while we figure everything out. Besides, I’m sure our dads will come looking for us.”

“Your… Dads. Right,” Peter frowns a bit more, glancing between the two boys. He hopes whatever is going on with Floaty isn’t genetic, because he… Doesn’t want to deal with that. He glances around the area with a small frown, and then, he’s hit with an ingenious idea. There’s a hotel just a few blocks down that’s currently under construction after one of the Avenger’s more devastating battles, and so the whole place is shut down. But the rooms on the upper levels should still be fine. They did say they only need a few days. “Fine, fine. I have a real place you can probably stay for a little while.”

Because there was no way in Hell he was taking these kids anywhere near Aunt May. 

This time, Peter just shoots a web and swings off. He figures if the kid can fly, he can keep up. He presses his lips together tightly in thought on the way. What was he supposed to do? He doesn’t trust these kids in the slightest. Something in his gut is saying that there’s something off about the situation. Maybe they’re secretly bad guys in disguise as kids to pull on Peter’s heartstrings. Or worse, they were being manipulated by some bad guys and it’s all some sort of trap, in which case… Well, maybe it would be good for Peter to stick around? He might be able to help them get away from such people. They did seem like good kids. Or at least, the floating one does. He’s not so sure about Sir Scowls-a-Lot. 

They arrive at the hotel, and Peter carefully peaks into one of the rooms. It looks clean, and like it’s been undamaged. His spider-sense isn’t saying “building imminent to falling over”. Good enough for him. He carefully pulls the window open - it doesn’t lock, not this high up. He glances over at Smiles. “Alright, hop in.”

“...A hotel room?” The boy lifts an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. 

“Listen, do you want a place to stay, or not,” Peter huffs. 

“We’ll take it, we’ll take it,” He puts his hands up in surrender. He pauses for a moment before he flies down, grabbing the short one and bringing him back up, entering the hotel room. Peter hesitates before he decides to climb in himself, surveying the room. He decides to check the sink, making sure it has running water. It does. He lets out a small breath of relief. He didn’t want to deal with that. He looks back over at the boys. 

“Running water, shelter, I think you guys should be alright here,” He hums, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, what did you two say your names were again?”

“I’m Superboy, and he’s Robin,” The taller one crosses his arms. Superboy, Peter takes a mental note to himself. Should be easy enough to remember. Superboy’s got the S on his chest, and Robin’s got the R. Easy. 

“Right right right,” Peter nods. He sucks in a breath. “...Do you guys want pizza?” 

“Yeah!” Superboy grins immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Only if you ensure to get veggie. I am a vegetarian,” Robin declares, narrowing his eyes at Peter. Didn’t that kid know how to relax? Jeez. 

Peter pulls out his phone and nods. “Yeah, alright. And you?”

“Oh, I’ll eat anything.”

“Including the box,” Robin says with a flat tone.

“That was one time!” Superboy complains with a pout. Peter blinks at him.

“You really ate the box?” He questions, lifting an eyebrow. Although after all he’s seen today, he’s inclined to believe that. 

“He is Kryptonian. You would be surprised with what they’re willing to put in their mouths.”

“I’ll pretend I know what that means.”

“I’m an alien,” Superboy supplies, crossing his arms. He turns faintly pink after a moment. “Well, uh. Half alien. My mom’s human. She’s kinda scary, honestly.”

“Your mother is not nearly as intimidating as mine,” Robin puffs up his chest.

“Your mom kills people.”

“Precisely.”

Peter blinks again at the children. They were strange. Very strange indeed. And he’s starting to get a little bit concerned. “...How about a true vegetarian pizza? Yeah?” 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Superboy gives him a nod before he turns back to Robin again. “Do you have extra clothes in your belt?”

“Why would I have extra clothing in my belt,” Robin gives the poor kid the flattest look Peter’s ever seen, and that’s saying something. 

“I dunno, you have shark repellent, why wouldn’t you have clothes in there!” Superboy throws his hands up before he flops backwards onto the hotel bed. 

“...I can go get you guys some clothes,” Peter offers before he can really think it through, but he does feel bad for these kids, even if they set off his spidey sense, and even if they are extremely weird. 

“Really?” Superboy’s wide blue eyes are trained on him, and gah , why does it feel like he’s staring directly into Peter’s soul? He’s wearing a mask. They shouldn’t do that. 

“Yeah, really,” Peter sighs heavily, wondering what he’s ever done wrong in his life to deserve this. He’s not a qualified babysitter. He’s barely sixteen, and he’s never really been good with kids. He’d watched the neighbors kids once a few months ago, and that had just been for a few hours in an emergency situation. He’d barely survived. 

These were two lost kids that he’d be stuck with for who knows how long. One of which has powers, and he’s not even sure what his powers exactly are . He’d gotten hit by a car without getting so much as a scrape, and he could fly, that’s about all that Peter could gather so far. But his spidey sense is buzzing at the base of his skull, saying “hey that kid could do some damage if you’re not careful.” He doesn’t want to find out what sort of damage. 

The other kid, Robin… Well, that’s a whole other can of worms. 

Still… “You’re going to have to stay here,” Peter warns them. “And I mean it. I can’t help you if you disappear. So no disappearing.”

Superboy nods, and then he lets out a wide yawn. “Myeah, okay.”

Peter sighs, thinking for a moment. He doesn’t want to have a pizza man deliver to the abandoned hotel anyway. “Alright, I’ll come back with some clothes and pizza, sound good?”

Superboy’s eyes are already closed. “Mhm.”

Robin watches Peter silently, though his eyes never seem to leave him. He gives Peter a curt nod without saying anything, and Peter takes that as his cue to leap out the window, suppressing the urge to let out a shiver. That kid gave him the creeps, and he wasn’t sure exactly how to explain it. He just did . 

Peter decides to call in the pizza order over the phone as he swings, heading back to his house. There was one nice thing about the fact that his aunt never got rid of any of his old clothes, and that was the fact that he still has a box somewhere in the attic that should have at least something that’ll fit both of the kids. 

Peter rummages through boxes for a few minutes before he peaks out the window that faces the street, seeing the pizza man pull up. He sucks in a breath and bolts down the latter and down to the first flight of stairs. He doesn’t want Aunt May to see that he’s ordered pizza when she has some delicious-smelling breakfast casserole in the oven. 

Speaking of which, what is he going to tell Aunt May? “Sorry, I’ll be gone a few days unexpectedly because I’m babysitting some weird and possibly dangerous children?” He didn’t think so. 

Although… How unbelievable would it be if he told Aunt May someone was having him watch their kids? Peter squints a bit in thought as he hands the pizza man the necessary cash, trading it for the savory smells of the two pizzas in his hands. Would that work? 

Peter heads back into the house, carefully slipping up the stairs. He sets the pizza in his room before he starts down the stairs. Aunt May was over at the kitchen table, doing the crossword that’s in the newspaper. She glances up at Peter with a warm smile, tapping her pencil against the tabletop. “There you are, Peter. The casserole is almost done, just about two more minutes.”

Peter nods. “Um, do you think I can take that to go today? I uh… Well, someone at school has this babysitting gig that they have going on, but they’re going out of town, and I kind of sort of… Agreed to cover for them.”

Aunt May blinks a few times at him in surprise. “Oh. Well I suppose… I didn’t take you as someone who’d be interested in babysitting.”

“They were kind of desperate,” Peter rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, glad that she wasn’t questioning it too much. “But um, I’m sorry I didn’t ask ahead of time. I sort of said yes before I had really thought it through.”

“Well, I think that’s very kind of you,” Aunt May hums. “You know where to find the tupperware. How long are you going to be gone?”

“Um, I don’t actually know,” Peter presses his lips together. “Their… Dad was going to fill me in when I get there? I just told him I was free all weekend.” 

“Alright, well, call me before you leave, or if you’re going to be out past ten,” Aunt May pauses briefly before she looks up at Peter with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Or if you need any help.”

“They’re thirteen and eleven…”

“All I’m saying is you don’t have much experience, that’s all,” Aunt May chuckles, going back to her crossword right as the oven beeps. “Oh, Peter, can you take that out?”

“Of course, Aunt May,” Peter sighs a bit, grabbing an oven mitt and taking out Aunt May’s beautifully crafted casserole. “I’m going to go up and grab some stuff while this cools down.”

He assumes that Aunt May nods in acknowledgement, but he doesn’t look, already going back up the stairs. He gets to the attic and restarts his search, going through any box that happens to be labeled “Peter”. He finds a bunch of clothes at long last, letting out a breath of relief. He pulls out a few, trying to remember how big the kids were before he gives up and decides he’ll just take the whole box. He frowns at his name written in large black letters across the top. He’s pretty sure that’s his own handwriting from when he’d been younger - it was much too sloppy to be Aunt May’s or… Or Uncle Ben’s. He carefully tears the flap that had the name off of the box and throws it aside, putting the box under one arm as he heads back to his bedroom where he’d stashed the pizzas. He sets them in the box too, for convenience sake. 

Peter gets his tupperware casserole for himself and gives Aunt May a quick kiss on the cheek before he goes up again, changing into the Spider-Man suit before he grabs the box and heads out, making his way across town again. 

The kids are both, thankfully , in the same hotel room he’d left them in. He breathes out a deep sigh of relief. He’d been half convinced that they wouldn’t listen to him and he’d have gone through all the trouble of getting the clothes for nothing. Another, smaller, part of him dreads the fact that they’re still here, because that means this isn’t some sort of fever dream and that Peter really has found himself in charge of two very strange and dangerous kids. 

“Um. I have clothes, and I have pizza,” Peter carefully pulls the pizza boxes out first, and then slides the box of clothes over towards Superboy, who picks up the first shirt off the top and tilts his head. “I wasn’t sure what would fit you, so I just grabbed the whole box. Hopefully there’s something that’ll work for both of you.”

“I think it’ll be okay,” Superboy hums, digging through the box some more. He finds the pajamas section quickly, pulling out a couple of options and looking through them with serious consideration. He finally decides on Peter’s old spaceship pajamas that he’d loved when he’d been younger and had been devastated at growing out of. The memory comes back very suddenly and Peter blinks a few times. He’d forgotten about those pajamas up until now. 

Robin looks through the option that Superboy has left him with, grimacing. He eventually decides on some plain blue ones, picking them up slowly as if he’s not too pleased with any of his options. Peter can’t help but feel a bit insulted, because he knows they’re nothing fancy, but the kid could at least pretend to be grateful. 

Superboy comes out of the bathroom with the spaceship pajamas on, and Peter blinks. He hadn’t even seen him go in there. He has to admit, they make the kid look cute. He’s got the soft pink cheeks and those innocent blue eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that Peter’s spider-sense has still not relented in giving him that faint “this kid is extremely dangerous” buzz, he’d definitely believe that he was just a regular kid. 

Robin is not the same. He puts the pajamas on and refuses to take off the mask, and just keeps glaring at Peter as if this whole ordeal is somehow his fault. 

“Are you really gonna sleep in the mask?” Superboy frowns a bit at Robin, crossing his arms. 

“My identity cannot be compromised,” Robin huffs, looking back at Peter. Rude . 

“I don’t think he’s gonna tell anybody,” Superboy sighs, taking a slice of pizza. He sits on the edge of the bed, staring out the window. Peter peaks over too. The sun was still in the process of rising as morning light floods across the city, making it officially Saturday morning. Peter has not slept at all, and he’s beginning to accept the fact that he probably won’t be getting any sleep for a little while. Not until this whole mess has been sorted out, at least. 

Robin looks skeptically at Peter for a long moment before he pulls out some sort of odd-looking blade. He points it at him, scowling. “I am swearing you to secrecy. Should you tell anyone about this, I will make it my personal mission to filet you as if you were a salmon that’s half off at the supermarket.”

“...Message received,” Peter blinks at him. That was… Oddly specific. And terrifying. 

Robin huffs, putting the blade away. Where the blade actually goes is beyond Peter, but it’s out of sight. The boy slowly pulls off the mask, and the scowl is suddenly much less scary and more… Well, he wouldn’t say adorable , but definitely less menacing. 

“Alright, well,” Peter clears his throat, pulling out his tupperware and deciding he’d better make sure he eats May’s breakfast casserole before he helps the kids eat some of that pizza. “Which one of you guys wants to let me know what’s actually going on here?”

They both start talking at once, and Peter sucks in a slow, relatively even breath. It’s going to be a long day, he can already tell. He was so unprepared for this.

Chapter Text

Damian lets Jon tell most of the story, interjecting now and again when he feels the need to, but Jon is an honest and unbiased story-teller, a trait he’d likely gotten from his reporter parents. 

“And now we’re here,” Jon ends with a hum, frowning a bit. “ I think we’re in another dimension. Robin isn’t convinced though.”

“I still say we need more evidence before we can come to that conclusion,” Damian huffs, crossing his arms. 

“Everyone we’ve ever known has completely disappeared. Is that not evidence enough?”

“It could be time travel gone wrong,” Damian grumbles. “We don’t know for sure .” 

“Usually that would involve us breaking the timeline. You don’t just wake up in another timeline without having been involved somehow,” Jon counters, shaking his head. “I think it’s gotta be another dimension. We’ve just gotta figure out a way back.”

“When we do get back, I am going to rip out that thief’s entrails and use them as fertilizer in the garden for this headache he has caused.”

“That’s violent,” One of the lenses on Spider-Man’s mask rises up, as if he’s lifting an eyebrow, the mask half rolled up as he takes a bite of the breakfast casserole he’s almost finished with.

“Don’t worry, he’s not serious. Rob gave up killing years ago.”

Damian nods sharply. “My brother would be incredibly disappointed if I killed again.”

“Aren’t you like thirteen?” Spider-Man squints at him. “You gave up killing years ago? How does that work?”

“He was raised by assassins,” Jon interjects. 

“Correct. My mother raised me to be the very best. I have killed hundreds,” Damian says without a hint of emotion to his words. It was a darker part of his past, and while he isn’t necessarily proud of it as he used to be, it is still his truth. Something he can look back on to prove how far he’s come since. “I swore never to kill again when I was ten and began living with my father. He has very strict rules against the behavior.”

“I… Yeah, I’d hope so,” Spider-Man stares at him for a long moment. He shakes his head. “Not the point. Another dimension though? You’re sure?”

Jon answers yes at the same time that Damian answers no. They both give each other light glares. 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense!” Jon throws his hands into the air. 

“Perhaps, but we cannot be positive . It could be something else.”

Jon groans, flopping back against the bed behind him. “Can we just go to bed and think about this tomorrow?” 

“You’re going to sleep while it is daylight?” Damian lifts an eyebrow. Sure, it isn’t entirely uncommon behavior for Damian himself, but he knows Jon is almost always up with the sunrise. He’s always assumed it was just a part of being kryptonian - they received their powers from the sunlight, after all, it would make sense that they would want to be out in it as much as possible. 

“I’m tired ,” Jon complains. “It’s been a really long night.”

“I agree with him,” Spider-Man hums. “We should all get some sleep and then figure this out in a couple of hours when we’ve got clear heads.”

“Very well,” Damian frowns. 

“I’ll go in the room next door,” Spider-Man says after a moment, standing up. “So you guys can have your own beds. You can… Come and wake me up if you need anything though.”

Damian figures it’s more for the fact that he doesn’t want either of them to attempt to peek under the mask than anything, but he supposes he can’t blame the man. Although it was futile. He’d guess that Jon’s already peeked under there. Damian won’t complain though. He’d much prefer to have his own bed than have to share one with Jon. “Very well.” 

“Right. Um, goodnight. Or I guess… Goodmorning,” Spider-Man hums, stepping out of the room. 

Damian immediately turns to Jon. “I cannot believe you have entrusted our safety to that man.”

“Hey, he got us a place to stay, didn’t he?” Jon hums, climbing into the covers. “And he got us pizza and clothes. I like him, he’s really nice.”

“I would hardly consider this clothing.”

“Don’t be rude. He didn’t have to get us anything .”

Damian huffs and pulls the blankets back before he climbs into his own bed. “I still say we could have figured this whole situation out ourselves.”

“You cannot be serious,” Jon groans, dramatically pulling his sheets over his head. He peeks over them after a moment, his blue eyes reflecting the light coming in from the rising sun. “I don’t know if he’ll actually be able to help us get home or not,” He admits, “But… I don’t want to be alone in another dimension, and he seems nice. I trust him.”

“You would not be alone ,” Damian scoffs, insulted. 

“I know you’re here, I just meant that there’s… You know, no parents to call for backup if we need it, or older brothers, or…,” Jon pulls the covers back over his head, likely to keep the sun out of his face while he attempts to sleep. “At least Spider-Man knows this world, and I don’t think he’ll try to hurt us or anything.”

“You trust too easily,” Damian grumbles, but he doesn’t actually have much of an argument for that. Jon does have a point - there’s no fathers or older brothers (or sisters) to call. And… They didn’t know this world. It pains Damian to admit it, though. The thought that his family was so far out of reach wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. 

Instead of saying anything more, though, Damian closes his eyes and wills himself to get some sleep. It had been a long night, after all, and it was some much needed rest. 

He’s awoken a few hours later when Jon shakes his shoulder. He gives the boy a glare as he slowly sits up, rubbing the remains of his nap from his eyes. “What is it, Jon?” He grumbles, frowning at him. 

“Do you have any soap?” Jon asks him with a small frown. 

“What?”

“There’s no soap in the bathroom.”

It takes Damian a moment to realize that Jon has just shaken him with his unwashed hands. He recoils a bit, leaning over to try and get to his belt that he’d stashed in the nightstand. “Wait a moment,” He grumbles, searching his pockets before he tosses the small fresh bar to Jon, who disappears back into the bathroom. 

Damian decides he’ll get first pick of the clothes that Spider-Man had brought over this time, going over to the box. He sifts through with a small frown. None of the items were something that Damian would really choose for himself, although he does find a white button-up shirt in the mix. He puts that on, and then finds a pair of darker blue jeans to go with it. He looks over at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. It’s perhaps not his best outfit, but it will have to do. 

Jon comes back and blinks at him before he walks over to the box, going through it himself. “What do you think I should wear?” He hums, pulling up a couple of different t-shirts and taking a moment to read through the cheesy text. Damian shrugs, not really giving much of an answer, and Jon finally settles on a red shirt with a dinosaur wearing glasses that says “Smartasaures Rex” underneath it. 

“Smartasaures Rex?” Damian lifts an eyebrow. 

“What? I think it’s funny.”

“There is no such thing as a Smartasaures Rex, ” Damian huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I know. It’s not supposed to be accurate,” Jon starts heading for the door. “I’m gonna go find Spidey.”

Damian’s face sours a bit, but he doesn’t complain, following behind Jon. 

They find Spider-Man asleep in his suit, the foot sticking out from underneath the messed up blankets. His mask was still on, but it had gone askew, only really covering half of his face. Jon trots straight up to him, shaking his shoulder exactly as he’d done with Damian a few minutes ago. 

Spider-Man shoots up, sucking in a panicked breath. It takes him a few moments to notice Jon and Damian standing there before slowly relaxing, bringing a hand up to fix his mask back into place. “Um. Good Morning.”

“Evening,” Damian corrects, glancing out the window. “Judging by the sun’s position, I would say around five.”

“Uh… Right,” Spider-Man blinks at him. He pulls the blankets off of him and stands up, going over to the window. “Um, well…”

“I’m hungry,” Jon interrupts, folding his arms over his chest. “And I wanna go outside while the sun is still out.”

“Yes, Superboy does need his daily sunlight or he becomes incredibly weak.”

“I don’t become incredibly weak,” Jon protests. Damian simply lifts an eyebrow. “Not incredibly ,” he grumbles, shoulders dropping a bit. 

“On a normal day, you have almost limitless strength. After three days of being cooped up inside, you become… Droopy.”

“Are you a plant or something?” Spider-Man cuts them off. 

“Do I look green?” Jon pouts at him. “I’m not a plant. Robin, tell him I’m not a plant.”

“Superboy is not a plant,” Damian allows. “Plants have distinctly different cells than that of a human, or in this case a kryptonian. While Superboy’s kryptonian cells have a capacity to absorb ultraviolet rays, they do not have the cell wall that a plant cell would contain.”

“That was a ridiculously long explanation,” Jon huffs.

“You are not happy being called a plant, and you are unhappy when I clear up the misconception,” Damian grumbles. “In either case, we demand to go outside.”

Spider-Man presses his lips together tightly as he looks at them. “If you two are going to go dressed like that, I’m going to have to take off my mask…”

“I’ve already seen your face anyway,” Jon shrugs.

“What?” Spider-Man pauses, suddenly looking incredibly on edge. Damian lightly kicks Jon with his foot, although the boy looks entirely unperturbed. 

“Sorry. X-ray vision, the masks are kinda useless to me.”

Spider-Man stares. “Are you serious?”

“...Yeah.”

“Just how many powers do you have?”

“A disturbing amount,” Damian says before Jon gets the chance. “It is a good thing he does not have the brain to use them.”

“Hey!”

Damian just gives him a smirk, but Spider-Man holds up a hand. “Please, no fighting. I can’t take any more of this today. I can’t.”

“I will do my best,” Damian allows with a heavy sigh, folding his arms over his chest. “And do not be concerned with your identity. Superboy and I are adept at keeping them a secret.”

“...I think if he’s going to go out in public with us, he can know our real names,” Jon hums. “Besides, it’s another dimension. I doubt he’s going to be able to do much with it.”

“It might be another-”

“Oh can it, Damian,” Jon huffs. He looks up at Spider-Man. “His real name is Damian, by the way. Damian Wayne. And I’m Jonathan Kent, but you can call me Jon.”

Spider-Man is quiet for a long moment before he slowly peels the mask away, revealing a young face, brown eyes, and short brown hair. He looks uncertain, his eyes going between Damian and Jon. “It’s not just me you’d be hurting if you told anyone,” He says carefully. 

“We are well aware,” Damian has his usual frown. “As we have said, Spider-Man, we are not particularly new to this.”

“Right, right. Um. My real name is Peter Parker. It’s… Nice to meet you?” He says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Wonderful, Parker. Now let us gain sustenance,” Damian spins around, heading straight for the door. 

“Ah, wait, guys, I need to get dressed!” Peter calls after him, although he is ignored.

Chapter Text

Bruce curses the fact that he has to go to this stupid, pointless budget report. His son is missing, along with Jon, and instead of doing anything about it, he has to listen to one of his board members go on and on about annual expenses and profit growth. He’d tried his best to get out of it, but Lucious had said that the board would really appreciate seeing their CEO there, and Alfred had told him it would be alright, that the rest of them would keep looking while he went to the meeting. 

He’s barely been able to focus on anything at all though, feeling the guilt in his shoulders. He knows what sort of trouble Damian and Jon are capable of getting themselves into. He should have been keeping a better eye on them, he should have known that benching Damian would lead to him sneaking off. 

The meeting doesn’t end soon enough, and Bruce lets out a breath as he pulls out his phone, calling Clark before he’s even left the office. “Clark? Any sign of them?”

“None,” Clark reports back, sounding worried himself. “Bruce, I’ve circled the globe three times, I can’t hear them, I’ve been to where Damian’s tracker was last seen, there’s no trace of them.”

Bruce waits until he’s alone in the elevator. “There’s no sign of kryptonite being used, is there?”

“Not that I could tell,” Clark breathes out. “But then again, that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any.”

“Have you checked for any unbalanced electrons? Kryptonite is radioactive, if it was used there would be discrepancies nearby.”

“ How am I supposed to check for unbalanced electrons?” Clark huffs, sounding exhausted. “That’s not exactly one of my superpowers, you know.”

“Hn. I have a scanner, I’ll check as soon as I can,” Bruce frowns hard, his brows creasing. Damian alone, he might be a bit more concerned, but he did have Jon with him. Jon would not be an easy target for someone to abduct, especially without any kryptonite. 

In fact, the two of them likely being together does put Bruce at ease a bit. Damian was impulsive and arrogant, but Jon would hopefully be able to balance that with his humble attitude and manners, and while Jon was half kryptonian, he didn’t have much training in using those powers to his advantage. Damian, on the other hand, had been training since birth (as he reminds everyone at every opportunity). 

None of it stops Bruce from worrying. 

Alfred is already waiting at the front of the building with the car, and Bruce slides into the backseat, loosening his tie. It felt restraining. He longs for his mask, to go out and find whoever had stolen his son from him and demand they bring him back with as much force as it takes. 

Regret makes its way into Bruce’s head as he sits in silence. He’d handled Damian’s sudden arrival into his life so terribly . The guilt of genuinely wishing Talia would come and take the boy back washes through his shoulders, placing a heavy burden on them. His bond with Damian had lately been strengthening, but as he sits he wonders if he’s told his boy how proud he is of him enough.

“There haven’t been any updates, have there?” Bruce finally asks, unable to help himself. His brow pressed tightly together as he looks towards Alfred, holding his breath tightly as he waits for some sort of good news. 

“Believe me, if there had been, it would have been the first thing I would have told you when you entered the car,” Alfred sighs heavily, shaking his head in a negative. A hard frown finds its way onto Bruce’s face. 

“Hn.”

“Everyone is doing the best that they can,” Alfred insists, as if Bruce would have any doubt. He knows Dick is especially worried, having driven straight up from Bludhaven the second Bruce called to ask if Damian was there. The rest of the bats were helping just as much, Barbara and Tim tirelessly searching through security cameras, Jason and Cass going undercover to see if any criminals made a boast about capturing Robin and Superboy, Duke and Stephanie were attempting to follow Damian and Jon’s trail.

Bruce knows the supers are doing just as much, Clark, Kon, and Kara flying all over and keeping their eyes and ears peeled for even the barest hint of them. 

The fact remains that, so far, there’s been no sign of them. Bruce doesn’t understand how they could still be on Earth and not be-

The thought hits Bruce like a shock of ice water being splashed in his face. Bruce suddenly sits up straight. “What if they aren’t on Earth?”

Alfred glances back at him, although Bruce can see the frown forming on his face through the rear view mirror. “I do suppose that would be just the sort of trouble Master Damian would find himself in,” The man sighs heavily, shaking his head a bit. 

“It would make sense, given what we know,” Bruce insists. “Clark can’t hear them, Damian’s tracker signal was lost in Gotham without any apparent signs of a struggle, Jon’s powers wouldn’t necessarily keep him from being…”

“Abducted by aliens? Alfred lifts an eyebrow. 

“Well, perhaps… Or perhaps it’s something similar to the zeta beams. Adam Strange did mention that the first few times he was taken to Raan were completely by accident.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to look into it, I suppose,” Alfred hums. He sounds nonchalant about the whole situation, but Bruce knows the old man well enough to see the lines of worry on his face, the way his brows are pinched and his hands are clutching the steering wheel a bit tighter than usual. 

“I’ll call Cyborg, he might be the best suited to finding evidence of something like that.”

Bruce just hopes that he’s right, and not wasting precious time, but something in his gut is telling him that he was on the right track. He just has to find out where they’ve gone. 

Peter walks with Damian and Jon through the streets of New York, trying not to show on his face just how much he was absolutely freaking out. For one thing, he can’t believe he’s just revealed his identity to a couple of middle schoolers. For another, the longer he spends with these kids, the more helpless he feels in this situation. They both want to get home, but Peter really doesn’t know how he’s going to manage to do that. He’s not exactly a dimensional expert or anything, and besides, isn’t it like trying to find a needle in a haystack? 

At least they aren’t bad kids. Jon is especially polite, although he seems to have a hard time not using his powers. Peter watched Damian pull him down from floating on more than one occasion, and he’d also witnessed the kid casually lifting up a dumpster when a quarter fell out of pocket and rolled underneath it. It was stressing Peter out . He doesn’t know how to tell the kid about how if anyone sees him, he’ll be mistaken for a mutant, and he also doesn’t know how to explain to him that there’s a lot of prejudice against mutants here. 

Damian, while a bit more prickly and sometimes outright rude, does seem to take the fact that he is out of the mask quite seriously. It stressed Peter out for an entirely different reason, because without the mask on the kid just seems so normal . He has a perfectly plastered smile on his face, and he walks smoothly with his hands in his pockets. If Peter were passing by him on the street, he’d never give the kid a second glance. That isn’t the part that stresses Peter out though. It’s the fact that it makes him realize that literally anyone could potentially be an extremely skilled assassin, and Peter would never be able to tell the difference. Just the mere thought of it makes him shiver. 

The third thing that makes him stressed out is the fact that babysitting is just so goddamn hard. They’ve been walking for half an hour, and they still cannot agree on anywhere to eat. Anywhere Jon suggests, Damian counters with some sort of dietary complaint or another, and anywhere Damian suggests Peter quickly has to shut down because it’s well out of his budget. Finally, Peter stops at the sidewalk, puts his hands on his hips, and frowns at the two of them. “That’s it . If you two can’t figure it out, we’re getting hotdogs at the next stand we see and you aren’t going to complain.”

Damian, of course, complains anyway. “I cannot eat hotdogs , I am vegetarian!” 

Peter groans, putting his face into his hands. “Of course you are. Alright, you know what? Taco Bell. They’ve got something for everybody.”

“Okay!” Jon hums easily. Damian opens his mouth to protest before he clamps his mouth shut and just scowls, crossing his arms. It’s not a complaint, so Peter will take it. He just can’t stand this indecision any longer. 

“Soooooo,” Peter asks after they make it a block, looking at the two boys who were now being uncharacteristically quiet. “You’re both… Superheroes?”

“I am a vigilante,” Damian is quick to correct, glancing up at him. “I do not have any superhuman abilities. As I told you earlier, I have been training since birth to become an optimal assassin.”

“Right, yeah,” Peter presses his lips together. “I got that part, but I don’t see where that leads to… Becoming a vigilante.”

“Oh. Father is a vigilante, I was training to be an assassin when I lived with Mother. She left me in Gotham to live with him, and… Well, I have lived with him ever since.”

Peter nods slowly, thinking that was probably for the best, all things considered. Damian takes that as a sign to continue. “I first became Robin when my brother, Grayson, was made Batman while father was presumed to be dead. When father came back, I resumed the role even though Grayson went back to being Nightwing.”

“Your brother? There’s more of you?”

Jon beats Damian to answering that question. “Oh, Batman’s known for adopting all the time. Don’t you have like, nine siblings?”

“Tt. No. I have four brothers and a sister.”

Jon shrugs. “Feels like nine. I’ve only got, like, one brother, and he doesn’t even live in my apartment, he lives on the farm with grandma and grandpa.”

“...And he has the same powers as you?” Peter asks, trying not to sound too alarmed at the idea. He does not want a bunch of protective, angry kids coming after him, especially not if they can absolutely beat his ass. 

“Well, only sorta. He’s a clone of my dad, technically, but Lex threw in some of his own DNA to help fill in the blocks or something like that, so he’s not exactly… The same. It’s kinda weird though, because technically we’re both half human, but I have the exact same powers as dad, and Kon doesn’t.”

“Right,” Peter stares for a moment. The explanation was complicated enough that he was already regretting that he’d bothered to ask. 

“He’s not so bad though,” Jon hums. “He’s actually a really cool older brother. One time he tried to teach me how to play guitar. I broke all the strings, but it was still nice that he tried to teach me.”

“I wish he would leave my house,” Damian grumbles.

“Right,” Peter says again, looking between them. The more he learns about them, the more confused he ends up being. He really hopes there’s a way to get them back to wherever they come from, because Peter does not want to end up as their babysitter indefinitely. He’s pretty sure he’d get premature gray hair. “Anyway. Taco Bell, right over here.”

Jon’s nose wrinkles the second they step into the fast food lobby, and Peter finds himself chuckling a little bit at the reaction. Alright, sue him, the kids were kind of cute. Not cute enough that Peter wants to be stuck with them forever, but he can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face. He goes to the self ordering screen. “You guys can get whatever you want as long as it’s not over like fifteen bucks.”

Jon is first to curiously look through the menu. He ends up getting three regular tacos and a drink, and then steps aside so that Damian can order. Damian takes a significantly longer time, looking through every option with a scrutinizing gaze. He complains about several items, to which Peter’s patient reply is ‘it’s a cheap fast food place’ , or some other variation of the words. He finally, finally , settles on getting a quesadilla.

Peter quickly gets his usual order, a craving’s box, because it was cheap and easy. He pays, takes the receipt, and then finds a spot to sit while they wait for the food to be ready. 

“You know, I’ve never had Taco Bell before,” Jon hums as he sits down, his bright blue eyes looking around the establishment with interest. 

“Really? They’re like, everywhere,” Peter hums. 

“Well, we have different superheroes, maybe we have different restaurants too,” Jon shrugs. Peter squints for a moment. He’s never thought about that before. The possibility that there were worlds without Taco Bell seems obvious now, but it was still a sad thought to consider. Was there a Taco Bell equivalent in all worlds, at least? 

Peter’s thoughts are interrupted when a teenaged cashier calls the order number, and he hops to his feet. Jon’s faster than him though, eyes lighting up with excitement as he heads over to grab the trays. He brings them back over with a triumphant glint in his eyes, carefully plopping down. He doesn’t hesitate to take one of his tacos, carefully unwrapping it and taking a large bite. 

Damian is much more dignified, taking out his quesadilla at a slower pace. Peter looks between the two of them before he cautiously grabs his craving’s box. 

“You know, my dad said that one time, he got shot while he was eating salad,” Jon hums casually. Peter’s head swivels over to him. 

“He what?”

“Relax, he’s bulletproof. That’s not the funny part of the story,” Jon takes another large bite of his taco, legs kicking and back and forth, not quite long enough to reach the ground from where he’s sitting in the chair. “The bullets fell in his salad, but dad had to pretend he didn’t notice. So he just ate the bullets and pretended they weren’t there.”

“Oh,” Peter blinks a few times, not really sure what else to say to that. 

“Now he eats metal on purpose sometimes.”

“I remember when you were at my house and ate a fork on accident,” Damian points out, lifting an eyebrow at him. 

“I wasn’t paying attention!” Jon sighs heavily. 

“Precisely.”

“How do you eat a fork on accident?” Peter cuts in, morbidly curious as he studies the two kids. 

“I have super strength, Peter,” Jon says, as if that explains everything. Peter frowns slightly, glancing around at all of the other people in the restaurant. Were any of them secretly listening in on their conversation? 

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this here,” Peter mutters quietly. Maybe he was just paranoid, but the idea that someone might hear them… 

“We’re a couple of kids,” Jon hums. “They don’t believe anything we say anyways.”

Peter blinks at him a few times, but he shakes his head a tiny bit. “I don’t know… You hear about mutant kids disappearing all the time.”

Damian glances over and gives a sharp nod. “I agree with Parker. One can never be too cautious. You never know who is listening.”

“But…” Jon frowns a bit, looking between them. He finally sighs. “Okay.”

Peter feels a bit bad. He hasn’t seen the poor kid look so dejected, but it’s really in his best interest not to be so open, at least not here. 

“We are not in Kansas anymore,” Damian folds his arms over his chest as he gives Jon a sharp look. Peter can’t help but snort. 

“I guess we both have Wizard of Oz, at least.”

“...What?” Damian frowns at him. 

Peter pauses. “You know… The looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore line?” 

“I used to live in Kansas,” Jon blinks at him. Peter’s shoulders deflate a bit. 

“Ah. Nevermind then,” He looks to his empty craving’s box. “Let’s head out. I don’t know much about your uh… Situation , but I have a few ideas of some people we can ask.”

Both boys nod as they get up, Jon taking the wrappers and putting them on the tray before he puts it in the garbage. Damian looks up at Peter, his eyes sharp as he studies him. “Alright then. Lead the way.”

Chapter Text