Behind the Screens || Tim & Jason

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Tim didn’t much care for the silence that followed his questions. The prolonged hesitation, the assumed thoughts that could fester in no time at all— the boy had learned not to trust those types of silence. He supposed maybe Red Hood had been caught off guard by the recognition, had stalled for time, as if he hadn’t thought of the phone originally and was embarrassed but no—

“Still dead.”

Still. That meant he had already tried calling before. Letting out an exaggerated huff that sounded absolutely ridiculous to his own ears through the filter on his mask, the young teen put aside any thoughts of chastising Dick until a later date. He shouldn’t be surprised really, that three years out of contact, and they reunite through what Tim can only assume is the older teen’s own rashness mixed with a side of some of Gotham’s most impressive vigilante’s. 

“How do you know him?”

That was a question Tim didn’t quite know how to answer as he continued to weed through the information in front of him. Another way, there had to be a faster way to find Dick and while he thought about that, he considered his answer as well, always the multitasked. We lived on the streets together during the occupation? He saved my life and maybe I saved his too? He’s like a brother to me?

None of those things seemed to do justice at explaining and all those things risked his identity. Giving even a little to a man like the red hood was dangerous to himself and right now, that identity was all he had. Besides, if Hood confronted Dick about it later, the other teen was prone to give him away unless he knew Tim’s identity needed to be protected. But he hasn’t spoken to the other in so long, how would Dick possibly know. Unless— well, he supposed maybe Dick had forgotten their codes, it had gotten them out of much worse situations before, it was at least worth a try now.

“He used to do the thinking for both of us.” He stated matter-of-factly. No intonation, no hesitation, and he hoped, no room for further questioning. It was a code, sure, but the hacker didn’t feel as if he was lying either.

He had been a scrawny twelve year old, sheltered with a weak immune system. But Dick… Well the boy always seemed to know the solution and was quick to take care of both of them, especially when Tim was in over his head. Which in all fairness to Dick, was always. The younger teen felt guilty, he owed Dick, and even after the older teen disappeared suddenly, Tim couldn’t quite find it in himself to be mad. So he’d been with Red Hood all this time, huh? Briefly he realized, they were killers. So did that mean Dick..?

Shaking the thought from his head, Tim didn’t think about it, focusing on setting up the facial recognition system instead. It didn’t take much time, but finding a modern reference to program in as comparison took a bit longer. Dick’s school files were too old, Tim didn’t trust his own memory to program a specific coding and he doubted hacking into Red Hood’s base with the assassin poised over his shoulder would be a very good idea. Hating himself for how long it was taking him to come up with a solution, Tim twisted in his seat, the large leather chair following the forty five degree arc as the hacker used the adjacent computer to pull up another program. Red Stone security was a company known to be associated with Hood and maybe if this man visited the company, Dick would too.

Eyes focused, Tim let his fingers do the thinking, pulling down the company’s firewalls and pulling up the employee and customer files instead. If the Red Hood had used Dick’s full name while remaining secretive about his own identity, chances were his protégé didn’t hide in civilian life. From there, it didn’t take long to find Dick’s information complete with identification photo.  With a quick, relieved breath, the young hacker transferred it into the proper software, beginning the search through Gotham.

Smart. That’s what the girl was. And, knowing Dick’s penchant for making unfortunate friends, probably hideous. Jay knew enough about the crowds Dick ran with to have formed a track record. Sorry Kid, your friends are weird. There was the kid with the green hair, the girl with the bracelets, and that ginger boy who couldn’t seem to sit still. All distinctly off.

Her answer betrayed a certain reverence, as if the bond that connected his pupil and this hacker was something sacred. Dick had never spoken about her before; then again, Dick didn’t talk to Jason about much in the way of social life. He’d learned long ago that Jason didn’t overly care about Dick’s habits, so long as he showed up on time for lessons and worked hard.

Odd, to see someone your pupil was obviously intimate with up close. Odder still that Jason knew nothing of the girl. He hadn’t even heard that Bruce had a new member of his zoo, let alone one so young and fresh. The League had called new acolytes “nqaij”, which roughly translated into “meat”. Talia had enjoyed informing the wide eyed children that their lives were no longer their own, that who they were to become was not their own identity any more. Idly, Jason wondered if Bruce had any such indoctrination rules.

Without moving a muscle, the Red Hood watched as the girl opened up Redstone Security’s firewalls like they were made of paper, digging around in files that could cause World War 3, if leaked. It’s a good thing all Hood business is off the books. Does Ilya know how easily the system is broken? This is embarrassing.

She had found what she was looking for, however-a file on Dick-and left the security system just as she found it. Relieved, Jason let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding. She uploaded the picture into the facial recognition software he’d noticed earlier, and sat back.

There was no telling how long the search would take, and even Jason was curious enough to talk to the girl. So, as the computer churned, he spoke.

“What do they call you around here, anyway? Batling? Fruit Bat? Count Chocula?” He knew the choices weren’t right, but they had made him smile. Who knew, maybe this one had a sense of humor. It was bound to happen eventually, right?