Chapter Text
Steph slammed the door to Tim’s room open, out of breath as if she'd taken all the manor steps two at a time, but with a huge, evil grin on her face that immediately had Tim pushing his chair away from his desk and giving her his whole attention. Last time Steph looked like this, she’d invited Tim to join her on an extremely successful and wildly hilarious prank campaign on Dick. Whatever she was about to say, Tim was already halfway on board.
“Tim,” she gasped, brandishing her phone. “It’s fucking genius.”
Tim held up a hand and she tossed her phone to him before bending over herself to catch her breath. He caught the phone easily and flipped it so he could read the screen.
Steph had found a YouTube video about haunted mansions. And someone had commented on that YouTube video:
Idk why but this makes me think about Wayne manor. I mean that place has to be haunted by Bruce Wayne’s parents… and just a few years ago there was that whole Jason Todd tragedy. Someone should do a seance or smth
“Oh Steph,” Tim breathed.
Her head popped up, eyes alight. “You see it, right? You see it?”
He saw it. He hated that he saw it, but he did. “Steph, B is going to kill us.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Yeah, but it’ll be so, so fucking worth it.”
Jason was in the second Steph said, “pretend to be dead,” and Dick jumped on at the words “prank the Internet.” Cass followed those two with a mischievous smile, and Damian trailed after the rest of them because he had “acquired a recent interest in the occult” and he “would be needed to ensure no one fumbled it.” Duke was on a mission but would be indoctrinated the second he got back.
Babs refused to be involved. Something about plausible deniability, as if such a thing existed in this family.
Out of everyone, Jason was the most enthusiastic. He threw himself into it with a fervor not even Tim anticipated. In hindsight, he probably should have known, since the entire concept sat right at the crossing of several of Jason’s deep loves: utilizing his excessive knowledge of theater, being the center of attention, and making people look like idiots.
But even Tim hadn’t anticipated Jason taking point on the operation.
“I wrote a script,” Jason said, passing out packets. Steph had this expression on her face like Christmas had come half a year early. When Jason’s back was turned, she caught Tim’s eye and mouthed, What the fuck?
He shook his head, amazed.
“It’s more of an outline than anything because I don’t trust you losers to memorize lines, but there are some key beats and everyone has particular character traits to emphasize. If we’re going to pull this off, we’re going to make it fucking tight. It will have plot. It will have flair. Timbit, I know you’re good with cameras. We’ll have to talk about angles. We will absolutely be doing multiple takes. I refuse to mess this shit up.”
Tim fought to keep a straight face. Across the room, Dick was hiding a laugh behind his hand. Cass wasn’t trying to hide hers, but her laugh was quiet, and also, it was Cass. She could get away with anything.
“Jayce,” Steph said, flipping through her packet. “This is the best thing I’ve ever read.”
Jason preened. “Thank you.”
Damian sniffed and put his copy of the script down. “Not bad, Todd. Although I do not understand why I must pretend to be a skeptic.”
“It’ll help sell it.”
“I’ll make a shot list tonight,” Tim volunteered. “We can video it next weekend. Duke will be here then too and he can mess with the lighting to make it super creepy.”
Silence fell. Everyone stared at Tim for so long he started to get uncomfortable with the attention. He shrank down in the armchair he was perched in.
“Tim. Timbelina,” Jason said. “Your mind is so big and so beautiful. How could I ever have tried to murder you? Where would we be now without you?”
A smile tugged at Tim's lips. “Together in hell, probably.”
“Hear hear,” Steph cheered. “Okay, I’m making a list of props we need according to the script. Does anyone know where to find an EMF meter? And we’ll need to rig it somehow. Damian—”
Damian nodded, resolute. “I will do the rigging. Perhaps I can convince Barbara to assist me, despite her request to remain uninvolved.”
“Cass,” Jason said, beckoning her over to him and Tim as Damian, Steph, and Dick dove into planning about the different props they’d need. Cass stepped over, light on her toes, and crouched down next to Tim’s armchair. Jason sat down crosslegged on the ground. “We’ll need your help with body language,” Jason explained. “The goal is to make it as believable as possible. Can you be our acting coach?”
She grinned and nodded. “I’ll watch practice. Give feedback.”
“Exactly.”
Cass patted Tim’s knee, widening her eyes at Jason. “Tim can do make up.”
That…wasn’t something Tim tried to advertise, but it was true. Jason shot him a curious glance and he explained, “I got some pretty bad bruises being Robin, and my parents…”
“Ah.” Jason nodded.
“Plus, you know.” Tim gestured at his face generally. “I don’t really sleep. Concealer does wonders at galas.”
Cass touched his knee again for attention and pointed at Jason. “Make him look creepy.”
A shit-eating grin spread over Jason’s face. “Fuck, you’re so right. Could you, Tim?”
Tim was already nodding. “Yeah. Steph should help, too, but I could do it, easy. We can raid B’s stash—he has some good stuff.”
Jason released an awestruck laugh. “God I love this family.”
The week of prep was agony. Not because of the prep work itself—no, that was a joy. Tim, Jason, and Duke (who got dragged into the plot against his will) spent hours walking all over the manor debating which rooms would be best to shoot in. They mapped out a route from Jason’s old room to the library in the East Wing for the filming. Tim spent an entire night planning angles, sitting on the carpeted floor of the hallway with his camera and trying to figure out how to hold it just right to catch the corner.
He and Steph watched several YouTube videos on special effects make up, cackling to each other and scribbling down ideas. Damian rigged the EMF meter. Several times, the siblings concocted really terrible excuses for each other when Bruce gave them suspicious looks.
Every night they piled up in the library to plan and practice, Cass giving them critiques on how to stand and where to look. Alfred, who definitely knew what was going on (it was Alfred), brought them cookies. Damian rigged a spirit box. Duke convinced Barbara to watch the video when they were done, just to give it a set of fresh eyes.
So in many respects, the week was awesome.
But every day dragged on and on. Tim wanted it to be the weekend already. He couldn’t wait.
And then finally, Friday arrived.
Dick texted the second he got off work and everyone ran straight to Jason’s room to finish setting things up, already laughing and talking over each other. They had forty-five minutes until Dick arrived and they were going to use every last bit of it. Jason sat on the end of his bed and Tim and Steph attacked his face with make up, artfully applying just enough that he looked vaguely ghostly without completely washing him out. It had to look realistic, after all. They were trying to be convincing—it wasn’t any fun otherwise.
They also put temporary dye in his skunk stripe, despite his protests. It was too distinctly different from Jason-of-the-past.
“I brought a bloody shirt and hoodie,” Jason said, opening the duffel bag he’d shown up with, and Tim and Steph bent over each other laughing.
“Of course you did,” Steph cackled. “Of course.”
“Is that sanitary?” Damian asked, nose wrinkled up.
“Absolutely not,” Jason said, pulling his shirt off and replacing it with a white tee covered in convincing splotches of rust brown. When Damian’s face twisted in rare concern, Jason softened and explained more seriously, “It’s fake blood, buddy. I’m not risking getting sick over something as stupid as this.”
Damian’s eyes widened a fraction before he reset his expression and sniffed, turning his head. “I knew that.”
Jason smirked as he stuffed his arms into the zip-up hoodie, which he’d artfully ripped up in several places. “Uh huh.”
“I was merely trying to assure you that your ruse would be effective,” Damian insisted.
Biting back a smile, Tim pulled his camera out from the case.
“Do not break her,” he said to Steph, passing it off. “I will never forgive you.”
Steph saluted. “Aye aye.”
As the only member of the Wayne family present who was not actually a part of the Wayne family, Steph had been demoted to camera operator. They’d all decided this was a great way to increase the cryptid nature of the whole situation—random girl films the Waynes as they do a ghost hunt in their own mansion. Tim had drilled all the shots into her every day for the past week. She was ready.
Dick rushed into the room in a flurry of movement, shucking off his sweatshirt. “If I was on duty right now I’d have to give myself several tickets for the traffic violations I committed to get here,” he said, throwing the sweatshirt into the corner. “Are we ready?”
Everyone looked at each other.
In the far corner of the room, Duke raised his hand and said, “I think you’re all crazy.”
Jason said, “Let’s do this thing.”
They ended up filming the video nine times before they managed to a) get through the whole thing without one of them breaking down laughing at any point and b) get Cass’s stamp of approval on everyone’s acting.
That ninth video, though. It was solid gold. As soon as they had the room to themselves, Cass watched it back over Steph’s shoulder with narrowed eyes. When the video was done she looked up at the library full of her tired, hopeful siblings. She beamed. “It’s good.”
The cheers could have woken the neighbors. And Bruce Wayne was rich. Those neighbors were over half a mile away.
Tim took his camera back and waited until the wee hours of the morning when both Bruce Wayne and Batman were fast asleep. Then he snuck down to the Batcave with it to edit the video on the big computers, where he could catch every detail.
Cass had been right. It was high art. It was possibly the greatest thing Tim had ever seen. His proudest accomplishment—and he’d done a lot to be proud of. This, though. This was really something.
Bruce was absolutely going to kill all of them the second he saw it, though. So the triumph would be short lived. Tim could already taste the lecture—and the PR disaster they were causing.
He threw himself into editing with gusto. There wasn’t much to do—the point of the video was to make it feel unplanned. Steph and Jason had practiced the timing to get it down to a science, making full use of the secret tunnels behind the walls. But Tim messed with the filters and the audio, trying not to snicker every time he got to the part where Damian was scanning a Jason-occupied hallway with a screaming EMF meter.
The Internet was going to freak out over this. Luckily, Jason had been planning his “rebirth” (his words, not Tim’s) for a few months now and promised they could make it official once the wake of chaos after the posting had died down a little. The ultimate Gotcha! moment.
At six in the morning, he was done. He sent the file off to Babs for a final check and grabbed his phone to text Steph.
Timberly
whose account are we posting this onQueen Steph
IS IT DONE OMG OMG
See I would suggest my account but idk I worry people would start connecting dots
Tim blinked at the quick response, checking the time again. Steph was usually dead to the world at this time, along with everyone else in the family. The adrenaline of the filming session must have kept her up.
Timberly
true
on the other hand it would be really funny
and b can’t get you in trouble like he can the rest of usQueen Steph
Don’t underestimate him lmao I already know we’re all going to be grounded
[Batman_Scolding_The_Second_Robin.gif]Timberly
akalkfjaskfdj where did you find that
send that to jason rnQueen Steph
It was just in the gif library lol
I already hear B now
“Until I know you can be responsible without the mask, I can’t know you’ll be responsible with it”Timberly
that is probably word for word exactly what he’s going to say
so are we posting it on yours thenQueen Steph
It’s either mine or yours, friend
B likes you, I think youd escape with your lifeTimberly
it can’t be me bc of wayne industries lol as much as i’d love to
the board would not be impressedQueen Steph
Oh right
Damn if only Jason had an old youtube account we could resurrectTimberly
steph
aklsjkdflfsd steph
ilysm
he totally had one
let me dm babs rqQueen Steph
Oh my god klfLKDSFLKJ the internet is going to think we’re all so insensitive
Texting jason as we speak
lmao we’re all getting disowned
Jason, of course, was ecstatic about the idea of them posting it on his childhood YouTube account. He, Duke, and Tim spent a few hours agonizing over the caption, Cass providing feedback over their shoulders.
Babs sent the video back to Tim with a note:
I edited the end a little to make the camera blur more. Otherwise it’s actually really good. If Bruce doesn’t kill you for it I hope he appreciates your vision.
That was a big if, but Tim hoped so, too.
Finally, after another week of talking it over and checking the video and discussing social media fallout, the group determined the video was ready to post. They called everyone in again on Friday night to do it together, all of them huddled around Tim’s laptop in his room, where hopefully Bruce wouldn’t come looking for them.
“I think we need to do a countdown,” Dick said. “From three.”
“Do I post it on one or after one?” Tim asked, finger hovering over the button.
“On.” Cass leaned her head over the screen, her hair falling in Tim’s way. Tim nudged her back so he could see.
“I can’t breathe,” Steph said, grinning from ear to ear.
“Do you need to be resuscitated?” Damian asked. She socked him in the arm without changing her delighted expression. “Ow. Last time I offer to save your life, Brown.”
“Three,” Duke said.
“Two,” the whole room chorused. “One.”
Tim pressed the button to post. The screen loaded. And loaded. And loaded.
“That was anticlimactic,” Jason remarked.
YouTube continued to load.
“It’ll get there,” Tim said.
Duke leaned in to look. “It says it’s going to take twenty minutes.”
“Dear God,” Dick said.
“Is it actually going to take that long?” Tim asked, twisting to check Duke’s expression. “We can’t sit here staring at it for twenty minutes. That’s a huge waste of time.”
Duke frowned. “Nah, it’ll be done in half a minute.”
“Oh.” Tim settled back to wait. “That’s all right, then.”
They waited the thirty seconds. Sure enough, the video slid through, and there it sat in all its glory on Jason’s old YouTube page, innocuously entitled “Is Wayne Manor Haunted By Jason Todd???”
Tim snorted, slapping a hand over his mouth. He’d laughed so much about this over the past two weeks it was almost concerning. The snort was too much for the rest of the room, though—everyone broke into laughter at once. Except Damian, who looked around at them like they were all idiots. Which they were.
“This is the best day of my life,” Steph wheezed. “Please, for the love of God send me the link so I can post it everywhere. B might kill us but I am going to die so happy.”
Tim copied the link and pasted it into the group chat. A couple pings sounded throughout the room as it went through, and Steph made an inhuman noise of excitement, already tapping through her phone to post the link on her many social media accounts.
“So I think we need to place some bets,” Jason said, “on how long we have until B finds out. Ten dollars each.”
Dick shrugged. “I don’t know, sometime tomorrow morning.”
“Two hours,” Damian said, getting up to leave.
Tim shook his head. “Ten minutes. Tops.” Cass pointed at him in agreement, seconding it.
“I’m with Damian,” Steph said.
“Same,” Jason said. “Duke?”
Duke sighed and said, “I bet he already knows.”