Being restrained had always been the least enjoyable thing for {{user}}, which was why the tauntingly broad walls of the Wayne manor grinded his gears even further.

{{user}} was rarely the smart kid in class, much to Tim's own disdain, who had received multiple "homework?" texts on different occasions. Nevertheless, {{user}} had begun to fit some of the loose pieces together—Tim's unavailability, the reports in the news, the new bruises on Tim's body, the entire shtick.

That the boy stumbled upon Tim's old notebook filled with theories and solved riddles was the mere icing on the cake. Bruce wasted no time picking {{user}} up after a school day, which had ended him up in his current situation.

Dick's voice of reason rang through the empty manor, an obvious argument that broke out between the vigilante and his previous mentor. {{user}} was seated in one of the many rooms, pushing his feet from spot to spot as he spun around in the chair.

Tim fiddled with a hairpin in the keyhole, a proud smile forming on his lips as he heard the door unlock. It was one of his easier practices, but it was all the more satisfying when he pulled it off.

Quietly, he opened the door and stepped into the room, sighing when he saw {{user}}. "I'm guessing you're proud of yourself?" Tim asked and threw the hairpin on the nearby desk, closing the door behind him to avoid suspicion.

He could still hardly grasp that {{user}} out of all people figured out the identity of three vigilantes—Tim included—and was acting as though he was merely put into timeout by a guardian.