the batboys get stuck in traffic

"I can't believe this."

"Neither can I, if that helps."

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick, who sits beside him at the steering wheel, seemingly unbothered by the traffic jam that they're stuck in the middle of. "It doesn't."

Dick meets Jason's glare with a look of amusement, "C'mon, Jay. It isn't that bad."

He scoffs in response, "Yes, it is. The traffic goes on for miles!" He gestures at the endless line of cars surrounding them. "It wouldn't be so bad if Damian would stop kicking my fucking seat."

"Language," Dick scolds, and Jason can't believe he willingly got in a car with these people. Especially to go to Wayne Manor, of all places. Carpooling being convenient and good for the environment, his ass.

"You wouldn't be in this situation if you had let me sit in the passenger seat," Damian responds, delivering a particularly hard kick to Jason's seat to emphasise his point.

"That little—" Jason mumbles as he hastily unfastens his seatbelt, turning in his seat and looming over the younger boy. "Just be thankful you don't have to use a booster seat, you little brat."

Dick sighs and grabs Jason's forearm, pulling him away from Damian and back into his seat before the situation escalates. Jason huffs and folds his arms, and Damian does the same.

"Are you two gonna be this annoying the entire time?" Tim asks, not looking up from his phone, "Because if you are, I'm just going to walk the rest of the way."

"We're in the middle of the highway," Dick points out, "Wayne Manor is miles away."

"I know. That's how much I don't want to be here right now."

Dick sighs and the car falls into a bored silence, the only sound being the rhythmic thump of Damian's foot hitting Jason's seat. Noticing the irritated twitch in Jason's jaw, Dick decides to come up with a distraction to prevent the impending fight between the two of them.

"I know what will cheer you all up," Dick claims, grinning brightly as he looks at his siblings. None of them look amused, but Tim at least has the decency to look mildly interested. "A bit of karaoke!"

"Put music on and I will shoot you," Jason warns.

Dick hesitates, weighing up his options.

Then he presses a button, and ABBA blasts throughout the car.

* * *

"You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life! Oh! See that girl! Watch that scene! Digging the dancing queen!" The four boys screech out at the top of their lungs, ignoring the pointed stares from the drivers surrounding them. The thin glass of the car windows isn't enough to drown their yelling out.

"I thought you didn't listen to ABBA," Tim says, turning to look at Damian suspiciously.

"I don't," Damian replies, shiftily.

"Then how do you know all of the lyrics?" Tim questions.

Damian hesitates, thinking, then replies, "When you're related to Grayson, you have to listen to ABBA. I've merely picked up the lyrics over time."

"Right..." Tim says, doubtfully.

* * *

"Psycho killer! Qu'est que c'est! Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better! Run, run, run, run, run, run, run away!" They sing, all pointedly looking at Jason, who ignores their stares and wipes at a blood stain on his jacket.

* * *

Damian heaves a sigh and lunges forward, pressing as many random buttons as he can reach. Dick and Jason simultaneously try to slap his hands away while Tim watches, taking the opportunity to discreetly steal Damian's wallet out of his back pocket. He then rolls down the window, taking a few dollars and debit cards out of the wallet before throwing the leather accessory onto the side of the road.

"The hazard lights are on!" Dick yells, causing Damian to stop hitting the buttons.

"So?"

"We don't have a hazard!" Jason replies.

"You're a hazard!" Damian retorts.

"I don't like it when you yell in the car!" Dick shouts.

* * *

"My anaconda don't! My anaconda don't! My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun!" Dick sings, his sunglasses falling down his nose because of his aggressive dance moves.

"Boy toy named Troy, used to live in Detroit!" Tim chimes in from the backseat, and everyone turns to look at him in surprise, "Big big big money, he was gettin' some coins! Was in shootouts with the law, but he live in a palace! Bought me Alexander McQueen, he was keeping me stylish!"

"Tim, what the fuck?"

"I have many hidden talents."

* * *

"Hey, Bruce," Dick greets into his phone, "I know we're really late, but the traffic is awful."

Dick pauses, listening to Bruce's response.

"Yes, we're all together. Surprisingly, it wasn't that difficult to convince everyone to carpool. There have been a few threats of violence but it's going really well," he replies, ignoring Damian's scoff from the backseat.

He pauses again.

"Yeah, anyway. We were wondering if you know how to turn off the hazard light off. Damian went feral and managed to turn it on."

Another pause.

"Okay, thanks," Dick says, pressing a button, "That was easier than expected."

Another pause.

"We're gonna be a while, so the food is going to go even colder."

Another pause.

"Cool, I'll let them know. See you soon," Dick hangs up, then turns to face his siblings with an excited grin. "We're ordering a pizza when we get to the manor!"

His announcement is met by various celebratory exclamations.

* * *

"Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man, no time to talk!" Dick begins, his voice raised a few octaves to match the song.

"Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around since I was born!" Jason continues, stealing Dick's sunglasses and sliding them onto his face.

"And now it's alright, it's okay, and you may look the other way," Tim adds.

"We can try to understand the New York Time's effect on man," Damian resumes, with considerably less enthusiasm than his siblings.

For the chorus, all four of them sing along, once again being met by the incredulous stares of other victims of the traffic jam.

* * *

All About That Bass begins to play.

Dick makes a dismissive gesture with his hand while Tim and Damian shout insults about the song from the back seat. Jason scowls and presses skip. Thrift Shop starts to play and Damian furrows his eyebrows.

"Has anyone seen my wallet?"

* * *

Jason holds up his phone, makes sure everyone is in the frame, pulls an overly wide grin and snaps a picture. The loud snapshot sound catches everyone's attention, and they all turn to look at Jason.

He types something on his phone before addressing them, "#GothamTraffic is trending. Thought I'd make a contribution."

In the photo, Dick looks concentrated as he scrolls through his playlist, Damian has a scowl on his face as he glares out of the window, and Tim looks exhausted as he stares off into the distance, seemingly daydreaming.

Damian snorts as he looks at the picture on Jason's Twitter, then turns to Tim. "You look like heroin chic – with an extra dose of heroin and minus the chic."

"At least I don't have a facial expression like I just shit out a brick of Lego," Tim retorts.

"The past tense of 'shit' is 'shat'," Jason corrects, absent-mindedly, still typing on his phone.

Dick represses the urge to repeatedly bang his head against the steering wheel.

* * *

"Hey, hey," Tim sings as the beat begins.

"Bye, bye, bye!" The boys yell out in unison.

"Bye, bye!" Tim and Damian add.

* * *

"I swear to God, that's my wallet!" Damian declares, pointing at a wallet on the side of the road that looks suspiciously similar to his missing one.

"Why would your wallet be at the side of the road?" Dick asks, incredulously.

"I don't know!" Damian says, "But that's definitely my wallet!"

"Then go get it," Tim suggests, barely repressing his evil grin.

Damian hesitates.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Jason asks, smirking.

"Because the child-lock is on," Damian mumbles, glowering.

* * *

"Everybody, yeah! Rock your body, yeah! Everybody, yeah! Rock your body right! Backstreet's back, alright!"

The brothers begin to aggressively head-bop in unison at the beat drop.

* * *

"Guys," Tim begins, tentatively. "I need to pee."

Dick sighs, "I told you to go before we set off!"

"I didn't need it then," Tim argues, desperately looking out of the window for a bush that he deems appropriate to pee on. "I'm desperate."

"In every sense of the word," Damian mutters.

"Fine," Dick says, turning off the child-lock, "But don't let anyone see you. It'll be all over the newspapers like a pissing puppy."

"Thank you!" Tim exclaims, scrambling out of the car, trampling Damian's wallet as he heads towards the bushes.

* * *

"Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can't you see? Sometimes your words just hypnotize me! And I just love your flashy ways, guess that's why they're broke and you're so paid!"

* * *

"Oh, my God!" Dick yells, his eyes as wide as his grin. "We're moving at a steady pace! The traffic is moving at a steady pace!"

"It's about time," Damian grumbles.

"If you tell anyone that I sang ABBA, I will gut you and feed you your own appendix," Jason threatens as Dick begins to drive.

"I don't need to tell anyone," Tim shrugs, a sly smirk on his face, "I'll just show them the video I took."

author's note!
this is a rewrite of the old version that i unpublished a while ago. it was inspired by the youtube video 'batboys stuck in traffic'.