Reverse BatFam Trash

De-aged Robin

-This one goes out to you, @imustbealoner-

Ages

Damian - 18

Tim - 15

Jason - 13 

Barbra - 12

Dick - 9 (Turned 2)

"...Come again?" Damian asked into his phone. Bruce had called him  from his cowl's earpiece, just at the end of  his Programming 12 class. He outside the school, still on campus, striding down the hill to his next class.  
Odd, it almost sounded as if his father had said 'de-aged'.

"That is what I said." The voice growled over the phone. "I don't know exactly what happened, but he was inspecting some samples of the formula we were looking for, I heard two of the viles crack, and the next thing I know." He sighed deeply.

"I'm in school, I need to go to class." Damian said. "I've already had eight absences this term."

"I-" He sighed again. "I know. But get back to the manor quickly after school."

The bell rang out sharply, but Damian was already storming down the hall to his next class.
"Class has started." The line went dead.
Damian had hung up

Bruce let out a third dramatic sigh, and pulled off his cowl.
All this because the middleschool had a pro-D day; Alfred just happened to be out of town, and Bruce had no option then to take his youngest half-way across the world to pursue a potential lead. 
Too bad the lead was real.

He paced over to the first-aid counter, which was permanently set up thanks to his dangerous children.
Robin -well, the tiny form in the Robin suit, was hooked up to a heart monitor. Thankfully, all his vitals were steady and as they should be; as they should be for a three-year-old child.
He was asleep, which was concerning as he'd been blacked out for nearly two hours since the incident. He'd been asleep the whole trip home; curled up on his father's lap.
However, his sleep was relieving because Bruce didn't know how he'd handle a scared-three-year-old. Would he even know who he was, would he know of anything that'd happened since he was a toddler?

At least the pro-D day was on a Friday- Wait, the middle school was out...
In an instant, Bruce had dialed the landline of the Gordon household. Nothing. Next (Though reluctantly) he called the cell.

"Commissioner Jim Gordon."

"Hi, Jim, I know I said I couldn't take Barbra today, but my meeting got rescheduled, I can take her for the rest of the day, and any more time you need over the weekend."

The commissioner expressed immense relieved, and organized for one of his less-insanely-busy officers to drop her off. 

Bruce ended the call and looked back at Dick, lying there in his far-too-big costume. To his relief (and mild anxiety) he saw the boy's eyelashes fluttering, like he was in a light sleep. Gently, in a way only a parent could manage, he disconnected the monitor so that the boy was merely sleeping on the hard, flat surface. 
He didn't want to leave his son, but had to change and hurry to the door to let Barbra in.

"Thanks Bruce, I was SOO Bored!" She pushed  hair from her pale, freckled face. 
"What's up?" She seemed to sense the strange dynamic in the air as soon as she stepped inside and kicked off her shoes.

"Come with me." He beckoned her towards the clock."I'll explain as we go."

As soon as the table came into sight, Barbra let out a squeal, hopping and sprinting to the table.

"Don't be loud."

"Sorry." Barbra whispered, standing on her toes so she could get a better look over the tall counter. She let out another, quieter squeal. "He's so tiny!" She whispered. "Has he woken up yet?"