Fics like I’m holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night

Tim always carried pepper spray with him — always. Living in a city like Gotham, that was practically a given. It was especially necessary when one was ten years old and currently sneaking around in the shadows of the night. Something touched his shoulder, and on reflex, Tim pulls the trigger, before he can catch sight of green pixie boots. Oh no! “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Mister Robin, Sir! Are you all right?” “What the fu- I mean frick, kid?” — It’s almost eerie how much these nights mirror each other. Only this time Tim’s pepper spray is joined by a knife. But it’s not Robin he attacks this time, it’s a weird guy in a red helmet, and the spray can do nothing against that! Tim is sure he’s never seen helmet-guy before, so why does he know Tim’s name and insists on helping him out? Or: Tim goes out at night to take photos of the Bat’s. Twice, he meets Jason. Only once, is it Robin. But Jason’s suddenly two feet taller and wearing a red helmet. Something’s clearly wrong here.

Fics like I’m holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night

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