Cuckoo Bird 2

The stairs were that creepy, kinda futuristic design where they seemed to float in midair. Tim ran a nervous hand over the joint that connected the first step to the wall. It seemed secure, right? Right? He swallowed and lowered himself down on his butt, scooting from stair to stair. The metal was cold and weirdly textured, probably for grip.

If the entrance had been hidden, there might be a trap. What if it was meant to fall out from underneath an intruder when someone put weight in the wrong spot? His blanket cape stretched out above him. The pressure was weirdly comforting as he scooted all the way down. There were a lot of stairs. A normal flight of stairs had around 15 steps, right? This staircase had… Tim counted. 40 steps. That implied there were high ceilings in this place.

He got to the bottom with intense concentration and slightly shaky arms. Then he looked up and around.

The room was a huge semi circle. He saw the largest computer of his life, sleeping idly with blinking lights and no less than 7 screens. The room- the floor just stopped, didn’t it? The wall was really far away.

His breath was getting shuddery. Tim crept to the edge and had the air punched out of him by how huge the place was. 

He could see three lower levels, all in the same shape curving around the open space of the final level. It was dark, but light glinted off of smooth shapes that he was pretty sure was machinery. Holy heck, did he have access to a car? 

Huh. He squinted to see a staircase on the level below him. It was pretty far around the ring– that meant the staircase entry would be way to the left of where he’d entered, on the far side of the computer. What was on the other two floors? He was shaking like a chihuahua. There was so much to see. He had to bleed off some of the excitement or he was going to pass out.

Tim spun in a circle with his arms spread out, and screeched like an owl as the blanket cape billowed behind him. He took a minute to breathe heavily and jump up and down to try to work off his energy about how cool this was. He didn't know where to start! 

It was some kind of secret hideout. Tim all but vibrated from excitement. Holy cow! He ran from room to room, sliding in his socks and giggling madly. There were four secret floors below the apartment. There were motorcycles and yes, a car! There was a big computer! There was a huge workspace with lots of deconstructed tools and radios and things that he was definitely going to look at later. 

There was also a big open space with a padded floor, which was probably for exercise. He didn’t know what to do about that.

“This is a bat hideout,” Tim realized. He recognized the tech. He swallowed and reached out with a shaking hand to poke at a comm unit. 

He. He'd touched bat tech.

Tim burst into tears and pushed his hands against his face. This was so weird and incredible! Where was he? He knew this wasn't part of Wayne Manor. 

It was all too much. Tim wrapped himself up in his blanket cape and took a few minutes to calm down. 

Think, Tim. Why was he here? What was this place?

It was obviously some kind of bat affiliated place, but he couldn't think of anyone who could use it. Why would Batman move his secret tech from the manor, the most secure place to keep it?

Maybe Batman and Robin had body doubles. They could be secret friends who helped them out. …But wouldn't Tim have seen them? 

He had a sudden spark of fear that he might not know the difference between the real Batman and a part time Batman. 

“No!” Tim said to the empty room. He got up and whipped his blanket cape dramatically open. “I'd know!” 

It was time to investigate. There had to be some answers here.

There was a computer down here that Tim couldn't get into. He gave the password one try and then left it alone so he didn't accidentally lock the computer. He went through lockers and found costumes that didn't make sense.

There were five identical costumes made for a smallish man. They were red and black, and they came with a lot of strappy things.

There was one each of even weirder costumes- a totally black body sock thing and a purple girl outfit.

So. He could conclude that the guy who used this apartment occasionally had two female vigilantes work with him. Maybe he wasn't a total loser if he had friends who were girls. 

His first theory was that they were all new. They were an emerging hero team that Batman was sponsoring. Tim looked for evidence that backed that up, but everything seemed to go the other way. There was so much equipment being repaired or updated: wouldn't it all be new if they hadn't hit the streets yet? There were minor scratches on 3 of the identical boy outfits and on the shin guards of the purple outfit. 

Boo. 

“It doesn't make sense,” Tim muttered. “There's nowhere in Gotham they could be active that I wouldn't have heard of them.”

….he was still in Gotham, right? Huh.

How was he meant to check that? But maybe if he'd been taken to another city this could all make sense.

A phone started to ring upstairs. Tim stood stock still for a moment.

Then he remembered there had been a phone by the work tablet.

…It might be work! Tim ran upstairs and snatched up the phone. He saw TAM on the screen in the instant before he hit accept call.

“Hello!” He said, a little out of breath 

“Tim?” Said a new voice. It must be Tamara Fox, of inbox fame.

“That's me,” Tim helpfully said. He transferred the phone to his other ear.

There was an extremely dubious silence. “...You sound very small, Tim,” 

He wrinkled his nose. “I've noticed that,” he said. Everyone said that, even at school. It was so annoying. People didn't need to bring it up all the time.

“...Right. Do I need to call someone or do something?” Miss Tamara wondered aloud, obviously exhausted.

Tim hummed from the back of his throat. “No, it's handled,” he assured her. Janet was five foot four. Any day now, some of that largesse was going to trickle down to him. Also Jack Drake was six foot, but Tim looked more like his mom so far.

She laughed, but it sounded weird. “Your life is- these kinds of things only happen to you.”

“...ahuh,” Tim said, not really understanding what she was getting at. 

“I don't suppose - no, of course not,” Miss Tamara sighed. He could somehow hear her massaging away a headache.  “You won't be coming into the office for the foreseeable future, I suppose?”

Tim snorted. “It doesn't seem likely,” he agreed. Of course not. He was 10. 

“I'll handle it,” she said, exhausted and heroic. “Can you continue to be available online?”

“Oh, for sure,” Tim reassured her. “Send me whatever problem you have.”

It was a bit grandiose but it made her chuckle. Tim beamed at the sound. Ha. He had done that, he made a real adult laugh with a joke. “I'll count on that,” Miss Tamara said, and she had such a good facade that it sounded like she meant it.

Tim hung up, still grinning about his first successful phone call with a stranger.