Chapter 7
Tim stroked a hand down his new green suit, hanging neatly in his closet. The fabric was like water under his fingertips and with a few modifications from Alfred, it seemed made for his body. He had never owned something so beautiful.
“We’re going to be late for patrol,” Harry stood in his bedroom doorway.
Tim tore his hand away from the suit.
“I’m coming.” He followed Harry down into the Batcave. Jason, Dick and Bruce were already fully dressed. Tim hurried into his black spandex and domino mask, jumping in the back seat. While, Bruce discussed tonight’s patrol route, Tim drew out his phone and scanned the police database.
There was a report on Kinsey’s arrest last night. He hadn’t been formally charged with anything yet but it was reassuring to see that he had been denied bail. Scrolling down recent arrests and criminal reports, Tim noticed more assaults and murders linked to gang violence than was typical in Gotham. Given the normal amount of gang-related deaths each night, that was saying something. He recognised a few names amongst the accused and injured.
“CC?” Tim looked up from his phone at Bruce. “I assume you will be interviewing Miss Norwell?”
Tim hid a smirk. He could just picture Amelia’s face if she knew Batman had called her Miss Norwell.
“We’ll patrol close to Crime Alley,” Bruce said, “keep to the rooves and if you need assistance, we’ll come straight there.”
“Copy that,” Harry said.
Bruce skidded around the corner and parked the Batmobile. Tim hopped out, holding the door open for Harry. Promising Bruce that they’d be careful, Tim and Harry shimmered up a fire escape. They jumped between the rooftops, landing on top of Amelia’s apartment. He lowered himself onto Amelia’s rickety balcony and knocked.
“Jesus Christ!” Tim heard something crash down in Amelia’s apartment. The window opened and Amelia stuck her head out, glaring at Tim. “Warn me next time. I almost thought I was about to be robbed until I saw how tiny you were.”
Tim huffed a little indignantly.
“Sorry Amy,” Harry jumped down onto the balcony next to Tim.
“Just get in here,” Amelia unlocked the many padlocks on the balcony door. She pulled Harry and Tim inside. Tim was immediately assaulted by a pair of arms being flung around him.
“Little!” Tim recognised Ruby’s voice though all he could see was a face full of blonde curls. “You are never doing that again.” Ruby punctuated each word by hitting Tim softly on the shoulder. “And don’t try and sneak away.” She pulled back and glared at Harry. “Get in here.” Harry was drawn into an octopus hug that would rivel Dick’s. “I missed you.”
“Nice look,” Mel was leaning against Amy’s chipped kitchen counter. Her eyes trailed over Tim and Harry’s new Kevlar suits. “Beats your old hoodies.”
“I liked those hoddies,” Tim’s protests were muffled by Ruby who still refused to let him go.
“They were falling to pieces,” Mel scoffed. She slunk forward and ruffled Tim’s hair. “Did Batman kidnap ya?”
Ruby pulled back a little. “I will beat up Batman for you, don’t think I won’t.”
“You don’t need to beat up anyone,” Tim detangled himself from Ruby and stood up. “We went to boarding school, I can’t say more than that.”
“And you couldn’t have told us?” Tim saw Mel’s almost permanent smirk fade. Guilt made Tim’s chest tightened. He’d been so distracted with magic castles, three headed dogs and two faced teachers, he hadn’t even thought to contact Ruby and Mel.
“Hey, we don’t blame ya, Little,” Ruby said, “We know ya wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye if you could’ve.” She put her hands on her hips and glared down at Tim. “But I swear if you do it again, we will hunt you down and kidnap ya.”
“You wouldn’t be the first,” Tim muttered.
“Stop crowding them,” Amelia had left the room at some point and came back with four mugs of hot chocolate. They clustered around the kitchen table. Tim clasped the hot chocolate in his hands, absorbing the warmth. Mel perched on Ruby’s chair, sipping from her mug like it was a glass of champagne.
“You look healthier,” Mel said.
“And taller?” Harry asked hopefully.
“You’ll always be little ta me,” Ruby grinned.
“We should get around to what you wanted to tell us,” Tim turned to Amelia. As much as he wanted to catch up with Mel and Ruby, he had read enough detective novels to know that you should never just tell someone you’ve got some top secret information and leave. You might as well hold up a neon sign daring someone to murder you.
“I’ll get it,” Amelia stood. She bent down and pried up a floorboard, grabbing out a box from beneath it. “You’d think someone as high up as Kinsey would have half a brain.” She emptied the contents of the box on the table. Photographed spilled everywhere.
“When we fought,” Amelia, shuffled through the photographs, “he’d send these to me. It didn’t matter where I stayed, I’d wake to one of these shoved under doors or between cracks in windows. Reckon he was trying to show me what I was missing or he just wanted to prove he could find me.”
Tim picked up a photograph and saw Kinsey in some sort of unusually clean warehouse, holding an automatic rifle in each hand. He looked like he was trying to be a cover model in some shitty, gang themed calendar. Sorting through the other photos, he noticed that they all featured Kinsey, usually holding a gun, drugs or stacks of cash. It was pathetic.
In one photo, Tom noticed something in the background. It was a table ladened down with notebooks and loose paper. He leaned closer, his nose almost touching the photo. With the right software, he could enhance these images.
“I thought if anyone could find some use for them it would be the little Detective,” Amelia said, “otherwise I planned ta burn them.”
“Don’t,” Tim shoved the photos into his camera bag. “I don’t know how much use they’ll be but I doubt Black Mask will be pleased to know someone used his warehouses as photo studios.”
“CC, Shadow, report.” Tim raised a hand to the comm in his ear.
“Do you have to go?” Mel asked.
Tim nodded reluctantly. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You better,” Ruby insisted, “and not just to talk about crime. I’ll bring out the good China.”
“And I’ll bring the scones,” Mel smirked.
“Try and stay outta trouble,” Amelia stared at Harry and Tim seriously, “Black Mask isn’t worth gettin’ hurt over. Just be careful.”
“We always are, Miss Norwell,” Harry looked up honestly.
“You little-,” Amelia tried to grab Harry but he spun away giggling. She stuck her tongue out at Harry and turned to Tim. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Amelia unlatched the balcony door and swung it open. “Ill see you…”
CRACK!
A sound like a firework going over exploded close enough to make Tim’s ears ring. He instinctively raised an invisible shield around Amelia, Harry and himself. There was tinkly of metal on metal and Tim looked down to see a flattened bullet case resting on the balcony floor.
“Get back inside!” Tim poured magic into the shield, trying to shove Amelia into the relative safety of her apartment. He’s never cast a shiel so large before. His knees shook under the strain as there was another explosion. The whole balcony creaked and Tim felt his shield fracture. He stared out across the street to a neighbouring apartment block. Through the shadows, he could just make out a man dressed in all black and pointing a gun right at him.
“Get back!” Tim insisted but Amelia seemed frozen, eyes fixed on the bullet case.
“We have to go!” Harry voice rose over Tim’s internal panic. “We’re too exposed here.”
“The panic button,” Tim ground out, “get Bat-.”
Tim saw a tiny figure drop down on the armed man. There was a flash of metal and he heard a guttural shriek. The man clutched at his now bleeding hands, devoid of both a gun and if Tim was right, a few of his fingers.
Tim watched the tiny figure skitter back up onto the neighbouring balcony roof and there was the thwack of a grappling hook, striking the wall right above them. Before Tim could do anything, the little figure had swung across the gap and landed beside him.
“I knew it,” Damian said, staring from Tim to the gun cases on the ground, “grandfather was right.” His green eyes met Tim’s, wide and full of awe. “Magic is real.”