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“And to your right, you may catch a glimpse of Amity Reef in all its natural splendor. Amity Reef has been a protected national park for over one hundred years, the pride and joy of our little town. It is home to a huge variety of different marine animals, including dolphins, jellyfish, and a healthy colony of sea turtles! We are also proud to boast one of the few coral reef systems that is actively growing in spite of worldwide climate change, which poses a threat to ecosystems…”
The tour guide’s sugar-coated voice continued on for some time, but Tim tuned it out in favour of leaning over the side of the boat, camera in hand. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before. Frankly, it was nothing Damian hadn’t heard before, but that wasn’t stopping his youngest brother from listening intently to the tour.
Amity Park was, Tim could safely say, one of the most boring places he’d ever been to. It was a nice coastal town, sure. Got a few tourist attractions here and there. The marine life was genuinely breathtaking. And there wasn’t much else. Crime, like in a lot of small towns, seemed essentially non-existent. The biggest criminal streak in the town was just one man’s crazed driving, and when you lived in Gotham, it’s hard to feel threatened by a normal civilian in a car.
“Dammit Bruce. Dammit Alfred,” he muttered. Honestly, Tim had no idea they meant when they essentially banished him and Damian here. He was not overworking himself. He was not behind on sleep. Probably. He took naps! Micronaps, in perhaps unconventional places, but naps are naps.
But noooo, they simply ‘disagreed’, and now here he was, stuck with Damian a million miles away from Gotham, forced to chaperone him on a tour.
“Pipe down, Drake. You are ruining the tour,” Damian snipped without even looking at him.
“Whatever you say, Damian. Not like we can just go to any number of places like this whenever we want or something.”
“Tut.”
To worsen the matter, Bruce explicitly forbade him from checking in on any of his friends and teams unless it was an absolute emergency. This time, even Barbara was in on it. He was truly trapped.
Damian startled, reaching into his backpack for a pen, jostling Tim beside him. At least one of them was having a good time. A pod of dolphins leapt above the surface, drawing the attention of the tour goers and Damian in turn. Beneath the sounds of the ooos and ahhs was the rapid scratching of pencil on paper. With little else to do, Tim held his camera up.
The lighting wasn’t great, and the dolphins were just a tad bit too fast to get a good frame of. He snapped a few cursory shots, but he doubted any of them would look good.
He glanced at his watch. 9.30. Just another half an hour before this was over. He could do this. He could survive this. He was Red Robin, for crying out loud! Tim suppressed a yawn, blinking rapidly.
Movement caught his attention. He glanced at his watch again. 9.35 already? Had he just taken a micronap? It wouldn’t have been the first time, but what had just woken him up? Damian’s sketch was still in its beginning stages. The tour guide was half-way through chattering about dolphin migration.
A blink. 9.37.
Tim’s back shot up straight. 8.38 now.
“Damian, how much time has passed?”
His brother gave him a long side-eye. “Are you truly that impatient to be rid of me, Drake? There is plenty of Damian-free ocean right there.”
“Shut it, brat. I’m serious. Something’s going on.”
“Tut.” Damian pulled himself away from his sketch, his expression deadpanned. “Such as what, Drake? Your watch going haywire?”
“Yes! No!” Tim whispered. “Something’s going on–” He stopped, and took a good luck at his brother. A couple stray hairs had decided to liberate themselves of Damian’s scalp, reaching skyward for freedom against their bonds. Tiny sparks danced along his pencil, at last jostling Damian out of his stupor.
“Forget that. Something is definitely happening,” Damian said.
No sooner than when he admitted it did the boat lurch violently. Screams rang out as the force jolted people off their feet and out of their seats, arms and legs scrambling for stability.
His bag was jostling. The camera bag violently jerked backward as if it had been grabbed. The strap strangled his throat. Tim gasped. He drew a pocket knife and slashed the rope.
Crackling arcs of teal electricity danced along the railing of the ship, shocking the unfortunate civilians gripping on to it for safety.
The ship sputtered and rocked, sending everybody to their feet. Tim grunted at the force that sent him collapsing over Damian’s chest.
“Gr… Drake, for the record, I am squarely blaming you for this.”
“Duly noted, Damian. We need backup.”
“Negative,” he whispered. “Already tried. There is an interference field preventing contact with the outside world.”
Well wasn’t that just swell? The one moment where they didn’t have their equipment and tools, they got attacked by some random supervillain out of nowhere, and they couldn’t even call for help.
The boat’s rocking paused for a precious second. Tim forced himself to his feet on the wobbly ground. “Everybody to the life boats!” he yelled. “Go, go, go!”
The crowd, for all their panic, at least moved quickly, especially when motivated by Damian’s voice. “What are you waiting for? To join the Titanic? Get moving!”
The arching electricity turned into a buzz in the air. All around them, phones, cameras, tablets and earbuds tore themselves out of bags and pockets, flying overboard as if possessed.
Couldn’t fight, not without exposing himself. Dammit. He grabbed the hand of a tripped-over elderly woman, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, ma’am. It’s not safe here!”
“Thank you, young man!” she said, rushing to the designated emergency exits.
But it was not to be. An arc of lightning jumped to the doors. His little brother was standing right at the threshold, escorting a small child through. “Damian!” he yelled.
The doors glowed in a blue, ethereal tint as the lightning overtook them. In less than a millisecond, they slammed close. Damian could only shield the girl as they slammed into his back. Tim heard a thick thud behind the closed doors, and the screams of the girl.
The lightning in the air turned to a fever pitch. A geyser exploded in the water beside the boat, radiating power.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! I must admit! You tourists displayed more survival instinct than I thought. But maybe you should have read another review or two before coming here!”
The boat turned silent, as if each person’s voice was being held by an invisible hand. The flying electronics coalesced around the geyser, sinking into the water and glowing unnaturally. Engines, gauges, pipes and wires tore themselves out of the deck and hull, tearing metal and splintering wood.
The water exploded, showering everyone in rain. In its place was an octopus-like robot. Its tentacles and skin were a patchwork mesh of phone screens and motherboards, tablets layered over one another, metal plating ripped straight out of the ship.
“My name is Technus! I am the master of all things electronic and beeping, and I thank you kindly for your contribution to my cause!”
Tim patted his pocket. Shit. His phone was gone, presumably assimilated into the technological Frankenstein’s monster before them. Who knows how long the encryption would hold up?
A rock hit the side of Technus’s face. His face, a huge electronic screen, squinted.
Shit.
Tim shoved the man who’d thrown the thing to the floor, keeping him out of sight. “What are you doing?! You think we can fight that guy?” he hissed.
The man scowled. “That freak stole my aFone Generation 18 Air Xs! That cost me–”
“He wasn’t going to attack us unprovoked,” Tim cut him off. “How much are all our lives going to cost?!”
“Who threw that? Who dares to stain the Great Technus’s beautiful metallic frame with a lowly rock!? Show yourself, and I may go lightly on you! I may simply sunder your soul and integrate it into my neural network! Well?! Any volunteers?”
The tech monster’s arms wrapped around the boat, jolting it dangerously. “Who was it?!” Technus shoved his face right up against the deck, looming over the onlookers.
“Stay down or else,” Tim threatened the man. He stood up straight and walked to the deck, front and centre.
“Mr Technus, sir!”
Technus, evidently not expecting someone to actually volunteer for cyber assimilation, blinked. “Who are you?”
Tim flashed a charming PR smile, extending an open hand. “I’m just an ordinary entrepreneur, and while I cannot offer you any people, I can give you something much, much more valuable.”
Technus squinted. “And just what can you possibly offer the Great Technus that he does not already have, puny human?”
“Opportunities! Connections! A chance to use your powers to change the world! After all, I happen to have an in with Wayne Enterprises.”
Tim dipped two fingers into his jacket pocket and tossed a sleek business card at Technus. He caught it in a net immediately, then levitated it in a blue aura, squinting at the writing.
“Timothy Drake-Wayne, you say? Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son?! The Bruce Wayne, owner of Wayne Enterprises?!”
Tim nodded. “That I am, and I can recognise talent when I see it. We at Wayne Enterprises have more access to resources, manpower, talent, connections and global reach than we know what to do with. And you can have access to all of those! Think of that, sir. Imagine how much your powers could change the world!”
“And what do you want out of this deal, Business Boy? There’s always a catch with your lot.”
“Only a few stipulations. For one, the return of the personal property of each person on this boat. For another, the vow to at least put a pause on any supervillain activity including but not limited to attempts at world domination. Finally, you will assist in returning everyone on this ship to safety.”
Technus hummed, his eyes narrowed into slits, his gaze focused entirely on Tim. The others on the boat waited and watched the exchange. Tim stood tall against his opponent.
“So, do we have a deal?”
Technus held an octopus arm to his metaphorical chin. “Hmmm….”
A slimy pressured squeezed his legs. Well, so much for negotiation. Tim’s stomach lurched and his vision blurred as the ground became a distant memory. The tentacle constricted around his entire body, binding arms and legs and squeezing his lungs like the world’s least funny whoopee cushion.
“S-stop this!” he whimpered. “You don’t want to do this, Technus!”
“Oh, but I do!” Technus’s voice boomed, his speakers right in front of Tim’s face. “You, little Timmy Drake, have gravely misunderestimated the situation! It is I, Technus, who holds all of the negotiating power! I could crush you like a grape right here and now, but I like your idea. If you are here, that means your phone must be within my magnificent body.”
Technus’s screen face flashed a maniacal grin. One of the many phones forming his body popped off of his armour, suspended by blue electricity. It was his.
“Ah, let’s have a look through your contacts, shall we?” Technus laughed.
“Stop!” Tim yelled. Screw hiding. He reached for his pocket knife, but the force on his limbs was too powerful, crushing any resistance. Fuck. “Kon! If you’re hearing this, I could really use an assist!” he shouted.
“Let’s see now… Just Us, The Bitch, The Bitch 2… You seem to have a lot of enemies on your contacts, Mr Drake. But this is the one I need!”
Tim grunted, struggling futilely. “You won’t get away with this, Technus! Just let me go, and we can go back to negotiating like adults!”
His phone sang Bruce’s ringtone out, deafening the crowd.
“Tim? How’s your vacation? Is Damian alright, chum?”
“I am afraid your children are a little… indisposed, Mr Wayne,” Technus said, cackling.
Immediately, Tim could hear the mask slip over Bruce’s voice. “What have you done to my children?”
“Oh, nothing good Mr Wayne. Nothing yet. I would like to propose a deal you won’t want to skip out on. You, my friend, simply hand over your entire company to me. And in exchange, I will deliver your children to you safe and unscathed. Do we have a deal?”
“Don’t do it Bruce!” Tim yelled. “He’s crazy!”
“Shut it!” Technus yelled. “I am Technus! I am the master of all things electronic and beeping, and I will take over the world! Ever since humanity pathetically waddled itself out of the sea, they have lived primitive, backwards existences. Nevermore! I shall be the one to enlighten them! I will enlighten the world!”
“And how exactly are you going to do that, Technus? Maybe you’ve been out of the l-loop, in terms of land politics, but there’s a few superheroes running around who don’t want the world to be taken over. Ever heard of the Justice League? Of Superman?”
“Tim, stop that!” Bruce shouted. Technus prompt muted the phone. Rude.
“Bah! Superman will be no match for my powers of technology! I will exploit his many weaknesses. No alien biology can hold a candle to my technological prowess! You think that this is my final form? Hardly! I shall upgrade from these rudimentary entertainment devices soon enough!”
Wow. This man really, really liked to monologue.
Come Bruce. Time’s ticking, and Tim wasn’t sure how long he could handle being squeezed like this.
“Ok, but like, what actually is your plan. Superman’s beaten Brainiac and Lex Luthor and all kinds of techie supervillains before. What makes you unique?”
“That is a good question, puny human! Brainiac and Lex Luthor are respectable scientists and evil overlords in their fields, but they lack a key advantage which I possess!”
“And the one thing you lack is a mute button, Technus!” a teenage boy’s voice yelled.
A brilliant blue beam shot from the water, encasing the tentacle holding Tim in ice. “Ghost boy?!” Technus shouted, eyes darting around wildly.
An icy, slimy sensation went over Tim’s body. In front of him, overlaid in front of a sky, a ghostly face appeared. “Sorry I’m late. Was dealing with a tail cramp. Let’s get you out of here.”
Tim gasped as everything turned liquid. His clothes, his skin and body washed away into a formless blue tide. His head spun and his vision fractured into a kaleidoscope of colour. He felt himself flow between the gaps of Technus’s coiled grip, splashing down on the deck.
And just as quickly as it happened, Tim was solid again, him and the boy.
The others screamed at his appearance, but to Tim, he was beautiful.
He was like nothing Tim had ever seen before. He was a skeleton encased in translucent scales with a tail like a fish. He was a teenage boy with a boyish grin and soft white hair. He was otherworldly and yet human in his little fidgets. “Are you ok?” the boy asked.
“You can’t fight that guy alone.”
He shrugged. “Bit too late to tell me that. You were pretty brave out there, but you can leave this to me now.”
“Wait, stop!”
The mer boy ignored his pleas and coiled his tail, leaping into the water.
Below and above the water, Technus and the boy exchanged blows, blasting each other with blue magic. The boy’s attacks froze and broke off parts of Technus’s body, while Technus channeled searing hot lightning through the water. Each time, the mer kid would leap into the air to dodge, gripping the tentacles and swinging on them like an Olympic gymnast.
A banging sound caught his eye. The once-shuttered doors had flung open, parted by a panting Damian. “What are you all waiting for?!” he yelled at the crowd transfixed by the battle. “This ship is still sinking, you idiots!”
A massive punch from the fish-tailed boy launched Technus’s body onto the boat, the force sending the whole vessel creaking and cracking. “Sorry about that!” he shouted.
“Let’s go, people!” Tim yelled, running for the exits. Technus roared and grabbed his opponent by the waist, slamming him against the deck. Tim shot one glance behind his shoulder and turned to the exits, ushering as many people forward as he could along with Damian and the stammering, shaking tour guide.
They located the life rafts and emergency supplies quickly, and everyone boarded. “Is everyone accounted for? Can you confirm your loved ones are with you?” Damian called out.
Tim’s eyes scanned the crowd, having already memorised the tour group’s faces (partly because of his training, partly out of boredom). 28, 29, 30…
“My baby!”
Shit.
“My baby isn’t here!” a middle-aged woman in a white sundress cried out. Her arms trembled as she pushed against the others. “Let me go back! He’s all alone there!”
He could’ve sworn everyone was accounted for. Had he missed someone. “Stay here!” he ordered them, especially Damian, who scowled at him. Ignoring his brother, he sprinted up the stairs.
Yip! Yip!
At the far end of the deck, a broken plank of wood had trapped a small dog underneath its weight. Meanwhile, the two sea creatures on it battled furiously, each sporting gouged out wounds along their bodies. Technus’s metallic shell had been slowly shattered and stripped away, revealing jelly fish-like tendrils, while long gashes in the translucent kid’s scales bled sluggish blue blood.
The deck had been reduced to ruins, a minefield of splinters and holes. Technus was in the way. His tentacles were firing blaster shot after blaster shot at his opponent.
One of them was getting dangerously close to the dog.
Tim jumped onto the railing and sprinted, balancing himself on the bar. But it was too damaged. Most of it had already been destroyed, broke off or twisted beyond recognition. With no other option he leapt into the air, grabbing onto the tentacle and forcing its attack sky-high.
At least were no witnesses. And from this vantage point he noticed a familiar phone case embedded on Technus’s head.
The tentacle whipped back, and it was all Tim could do to hold on. The force shifted violently and the floor rushed to meet his head.
Instead of sharp splinters, his body met softer scales. The mer boy had cushioned his fall, though not without pain. The impact sent both of them rolling on the deck, crashing against the railing.
Tim recovered first, standing up. “Fish guy! Do you see my phone?”
“Ow… The name’s Danny. Danny Fathom, and I can probably see it but it’s a little hard to tell them all apart.”
A two tentacles dove towards them, claws spinning menacingly. Fathom’s hands glowed blue, and he forced a huge ice wall between them, halting the attacks.
“The one with all the superhero stickers on his head!” Tim yelled. “Grab it and toss it to me!”
Fathom blinked at him once. Then his eyes widened, and his expression turned determined.
A third tentacle snaked around the wall, snapping its claws. “What are you planning, rich boy?!”
Tim stood his ground, arming himself with a stray piece of rebar. But Fathom was faster. With his tail acting as a spring he leapt over his wall. Technus swore, raising his arms in defense, but Fathom’s outreached arm melted into glowing water, seeping into the gaps of the octopus man’s defense. He ripped out Tim’s phone from Technus’s dome.
“Catch!”
Catching a phone had never felt better. From there, it was easy. The techno assimilation had granted Tim an easy backdoor into Technus’s system. All he had to do was unleash one of his pre-made viruses.
One button press to turn the phone on. Two swipes to get to the right page. One tap to open his directory, and four more to navigate. That was all it took to shut the robotic sea monster down.
Technus’s expression turned panicked. His tentacles charged up their beam attacks, but it was too late. One by one, the lights on his body faded, until only the main face was left.
“NOOOO! CURSE YOU, GHOST BOY AND RICH BOY! I WILL NOT FORg–”
Fathom’s fist planted itself into the screen, ending the rant before it could begin. Good thing too. Tim had heard enough evil monologues and foresworn revenge for one lifetime.
“Is it over?” He leaned on whatever remained of the wall, panting. “You seem familiar with him.”
Fathom shook his head. “Not yet.” He slid on his tail, pulling himself forward with one arm. He took the other arm away from the wound he’d been clutching and unclipped a strange cylindrical device from his belt. Before Tim could ask about its purpose, he opened it.
A brilliant flash of blue light enveloped the pile of phone and tablet husks, seeping deep into the cracks. A scream rang from the pile. Tim squared himself up for another fight, ready for what would come out.
Technus’s true body, the one not made of stolen tech, was a jelly fish man, and one evidently incandescent with rage. He yelled out swear after swear against both Fathom and Tim as the blue light from the cylinder trapped him and pulled him in. Fathom screwed the cap back on, and the screaming turned muffled.
Ah, peace and quiet. With the coast finally clear, Tim was able to cross the deck safely, and pull out the pup from the wreckage.
Miraculously, she was unharmed. Terrified, but nothing a quick treat and a warm touch couldn’t help.
Fathom turned to him. Now that he wasn’t in constant motion, Tim could practically trace out the exhaustion lines on the boy’s face, in spite of its translucency. “Thanks for the assist, man. Normally I have another friend to help fight Technus, but his superpower is drowning easily.”
Tim nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should be thanking you. You’re the one who saved my life, and everyone else onboard. You’re a pretty cool hero, Fathom.”
But Fathom didn’t gleam or preen up at the praise. Instead, he blushed, and his fins closed in on themselves. “I wish that was the case. I’m just a kid who screwed up. Anyway, I have to go.”
“Wait, you’re injured!” Fathom’s blood had already stained most of the deck, and more of it was still flowing. “There’s first aid kits on the ship!”
The boat was already sinking. Water had reached the deck. Fathom didn’t even need to slide around anymore, his tail submerging in the water.
Fathom flashed a strained smile. “I’ll be fine. I heal quickly, and it’s better if you’re not seen with me.”
“Why not?”
Azure light scorched Tim’s vision. Fathom screamed. A chunk of his side burned as a new hole penetrated the flesh. Tim turned around, facing a jumpsuited pair on speed boats.
Was that the maniac driver from earlier?!
“Stop right there, ghost boy! Your days of terrorising the innocent people of Amity Park are numbered!” the huge man in orange yelled through a megaphone.
“Surrender now so we can tear you apart molecule by molecule!” the woman screamed.
Tim felt sick, and it wasn’t sea sickness. “I’ll–”
Stop them, Tim would have said. But his words died on his tongue. Fathom had already left. The only trace of his presence was a glowing blue trail.
“Darnit! That opportunistic fiend! He was probably preying on these poor shipwrecked tourists,” the orange-suited man muttered.
Tim could have screamed. He wanted to yell, but the pup in his arms was scared enough.
“Young man!” The woman’s voice switched from having enough acid to kill an elephant to a suffocating motherly sweetness. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
~~
The Doctors Fenton, as he learned their names were, were famed siren hunters and researchers, looking for ways to protect the world from the fathom menace. All Tim saw were people the world needed to be protected from. They offered him a lift back to shore, and Tim really shouldn’t have agreed, because it turned out Jack’s propensity for reckless driving also translated to his skills with a speedboat. Impulse was more careful with passengers.
The Fenton parents got him a towel and a change of clothes at shore, and helped patch up some of his injuries from Technus.
“Fathom only showed up to save us from Technus,” Tim argued.
“Sweetie, I know things might appear that way,” Madeline Fenton began. Her tone was condescending, like Tim was just a kid and she was dumbing it down for him. “But sirens are an inherently territorial species. Even juveniles like Fathom fight tooth and nail with others to maintain their claims.”
“Right. Territorial,” Tim muttered.
“Anyway, the rest of the tour group should be arriving here soon,” Jack said as he hopped onto his speed boat. “Maddie and I will be patrolling the waters in case Fathom tries to make a second pass at them. While you’re here, Timmy-boy, you can be assured you’re under Fenton protection!”
Tim watched, dazed, as the pair rode off into the water. He was alone.
Bruce was going to flip about this. Damian was going to flip about this. Actually, Damian was probably already flipping about his peaceful dolphin-watching trip being interrupted with more hero shenanigans. Such was life.
And it was as Tim was gazing out into the water that he noticed a dark shape zipping underneath the surface. It vanished immediately after. A trick of the light, to most people.
He looked back to the growing shapes on the horizon, of rescue boats slowly approaching shore. He turned away, and ran along the beach towards the forest bordering it.
~~
He was right to follow his hunch. The odour of copper and blood turned stronger and stronger, along with that of brine and salt. Moving through the trees, Tim arrived at a small clearing near the shore where the woods gave way to blood-stained sand and gravel lapped at by the waves.
And at the end of the trail, there was heavy breathing, and muttered swears. He caught sight of a frayed tailfin before a bright blue light flared dangerously.
“Who’s there?” Fathom hissed, halfway between boy and monster. Gone was the snarky, confident edge. In its place lurked a cornered animal.
Tim held his hands up in surrender, slowly emerging from the bushes. “It’s me. Tim. You know, the guy whose phone you saved?”
Fathom looked in even worse shape than when he’d last saw him. Tim hadn’t known there was a way for translucent skin to get pale, but now he knew, and he wasn’t sure if he liked having that knowledge. A first aid kit lay open beside him, supplies haphazardly strewn about. The siren boy’s dark, sunken eyes widened, and a mask of nonchalance slipped over his lips.
“Just wish I could’ve saved all the other ones. Hopefully your phone’s in better shape than I am, amirite?” He coughed, clutching his side. “Not that I don’t appreciate the company, but normally I’m a little better dressed for visitors, you know?”
One of the scratches on Fathom’s arm had been covered up with a hastily-done bandage, loose and unskilled. Tim couldn’t help the grimace. “Your wound dressing sucks. Let me help.”
Fathom let a chirp of protest, but Tim was already sitting down beside him.
“Give me your arm,” he ordered. Fathom’s fins drooped and he resigned himself, offering his injured arm.
Tim opened up his own first aid kit, which he knew for a fact wasn’t contaminated, unlike the chaotic mess beside Fathom. He would question where a sea creature obtained a land first aid kit later.
Fathom’s scales truly covered every part of his body. Brushing against his palm, Tim felt thousands of tiny bumpy scales against his skin, coated in a thin layer of mucus. The mucus made wrapping the gauze challenging, and Tim had to wrap a few more loops of it than normal.
“I can heal pretty quick, you know. Most of these will be fine by morning,” Fathom protested weakly.
“You’re still being hunted. By morning is too slow to recover.”
Fathom’s lips pursed. His eyes avoided Tim’s.
“For the record, I think the Fentons are full of shit.”
Fathom shifted uncomfortably. “They’re not that bad. They’re just trying to do their best.”
What.
When his brain rebooted itself, he noticed he’d dropped the cotton swab he’d been disinfecting the gunshot wound with. Tim blinked rapidly.
“They shot you.”
Fathom shrugged. “Not like I died. This isn’t even the worst time they’ve shot me.”
Suddenly, Tim could start to see Bruce’s perspective a little more. “They told me you were a menace, a territorial beast. That’s bullshit. They were trying to kill you.”
The other boy continued to avert his gaze. His fins twitched anxiously. “It’s not that bad. They’re just doing their best. Sirens like me… humans are right to be afraid of us. We’re dangerous.”
“I’m not afraid.”
Fathom went silent. For the next minute, the only sounds between them were the occasional hiss of pain as Tim dabbed disinfectant at his wounds, wrapping them up as tight as he could.
“I’m not sure how long these will hold up in the water, but it’s better than nothing. How long can you stay on land?”
“T-that won’t be an issue. Why are you helping me?”
The way Fathom asked it, you would think helping injured people was a novel, scandalous act. “You helped me, didn’t you? I’d be a huge jerk if I just let you bleed out and die.”
“I wouldn’t have died. Healing factor, remember?”
Tim glared, but it seemed pushing wasn’t going to do anything. He still had more questions. With most of the wounds treated to, he packed up the kit, but he didn’t leave. “How long, Fathom?”
“What?” Fathom startled, jolting straight before wincing in pain at his jostled injuries. “What do you mean? I’ve been like this all my life! I–”
“You said it wasn’t your first fight with Technus. Are there others too? How long have you been acting as a hero?”
“I’m not a hero–”
Tim cut him off swiftly. “You’re like, in the top 99.99th percentile of heroic kids our age. You think most guys would tank that much damage and keep going, just to save people?”
Fathom pouted. “Firstly, weird that you know 99.99 percent of the teenage population, but sure. Secondly, who says I was saving people? Maybe I was just looking to blow off steam? Maybe I just wanted to engage in some misanthropic tech destruction. Howabout that?”
Wow. Was Tim always this annoying to Bruce? “If you were just going to blow off steam, you would’ve picked a weaker opponent, not one at the height of his power. And if your only priority was to destroy tech, you wouldn’t have saved me back then.”
Fathom bowed his head down, lips trembling. “I…”
And now, suddenly he felt bad. “I’m sorry. It’s just… you saved us all. I wanted to thank you. We should all be. I don’t know what’s going on in this town, how people seem to think you’re the bad guy, but you’re not. And it’s wrong.”
A glint of white peeked out of Fathom’s eye. It collected like a dew drop, dripping down his cheek, leaving a white, oily stain behind. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be reassuring his fellow hero, not making things worse.
“Thanks,” he whispered. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say you’re welcome, you dork,” Tim laughed. “So, how long have you been doing this?”
“Maybe six and a half months?” Fathom offered, his voice unsure.
What. What. What. What. What. What. What.
Tim looked around. “Do you have any help?”
“I have some human friends who help me fight sirens sometimes.”
“Human hero friends, right? Like, with superpowers and gadgets and stuff?”
Fathom blinked. “Does borrowed Fenton Tech count?”
Tim was going to have a conniption.