Archive of Our Own ^beta

There were a lot of things Jason Todd regretted. Some things are bigger than others, some more prominent. Some barely above peeves and some tragedy-bringing.

But in all of his nineteen years of two lives, he never once thought that he would regret bringing his library card with him while on a quick patrol.

It went something like this: Jason kept his old library card from before his death. Sue him, berate him for being lazy, whatever, but he did not want to go through the trouble of getting a new one. Plus, Jason Peter Todd-Wayne was legally dead. And no one actually looks at your library card, anyway. They just scan it and move on.

(Thank god for that.)

So he’d used it. Every Wednesday evening, the quietest and emptiest hours, he’d go back to his old spot at Gotham Library. He’d rent books every once in a while when he couldn’t finish them in the evening. As expected, no one even looked twice.

And if they did, well, you wouldn’t just point out that someone looks like the dead child of a billionaire, would you? Exactly.

One Wednesday, however, just as he was about to leave, there had been a threat to one of his protected errand boys; which just wouldn’t fly. So, with his library card still stored in his pocket, he grabbed his gear, cursed Roman Sionis, and ran out the door.

The actual threat, obviously, was no trouble at all. A threat here, a bullet there, and everyone was happy. Or dead.

He’d decided then, on the spot, that he might as well go on a short patrol. A quick route, since he was already in gear. That had been his grave mistake.

He’d jumped from roof to roof, looking down and dishing out bullets and threats as he saw fit. There was nothing major, there wasn’t really, since he’d taken over. He’d handled it.

With a few heaved breaths and guns securely back in their holsters, he walked back into his apartment and removed all his gear. With one futile glance at the clock and an acceptance that he’d have to order food, he’d thrown himself on his couch, none the wiser of his impending doom.

What he didn’t realise, as he slept that night, was that his undoing in the form of a small library card was now somewhere on some roof. Left to be found and picked up by anyone who could get up there.

The next Wednesday he went to grab his library card and find it missing. He searched his entire apartment to no avail and begrudgingly accepted that Todd Peters would have to make a return to acquire a new card.

He thought nothing more of it, then. The card was useless to anyone else. Identification of a dead man.

In hindsight, he should have thought more of it, considering the people he was currently trying to avoid were trained detectives.

Which brought him to his present situation. He stood at the entrance of Gotham Library, staring directly at a very expectant-looking and marginally pissed Richard fucking Grayson.

And to make matters worse, Dick was sitting in his spot. Jason’s favourite spot in the library, which Dick was very aware Jason loved.

Jason could pass it off as Dick being sentimental and reminiscent, guilty maybe. But Dick didn’t go to the library. He had no reason to be there unless it was directly connected to Jason’s recent property loss.

Cursing his own carelessness, he blended in with the shadows before Dick could notice that he had entered. He could’ve left, but he was slightly intrigued. What was Dick expecting, exactly?

Dick had no book in hand, nor seemed interested in picking any up. No, his eyes were darting back and forth between the two doors and multiple dozen windows. He was waiting for something. Or, more accurately, for someone.

Assuming Dick did actually have his library card, Jason would have originally thought that Dick was expecting an impostor. Someone who had been using his dead brother’s identity for something, even if that something was as harmless as renting books.

But Jason, to his chagrin, knew Dick better than that. Dick was tense and he was fidgeting with anything he could get his fingers on. There was a kind of scared aura radiating from the man. But Dick would never be frightened of anyone, really. Certainly not some person trying to impersonate Jason.

That was nervousness. It was subtle, but there. Dick was nervous about what he was going to encounter during the visit, and if Jason looked closer there was a shine of what looked to be hope in his gaze.

It was guarded but certainly present. He could imagine Goldie’s internal monologue;

‘People don’t come back from the dead!’ It would say. ‘But what if…?’

Jason almost felt bad for him.

Scratch that, he did kind of feel bad for him. Unlike Bruce, Dick hadn’t actually ever wronged Jason directly. Sure, they had their rough moments, and Dick wasn’t exactly nice to him during his Robin years, but they’d managed a tentative understanding.

What he didn’t expect was for Dick to remember Jason’s own tendencies as well as Jason remembered his.

Dick’s head snapped to him after he took a particularly risky step, gaze immediately locking on him.

“Oh fuck you, Goldie,” he hissed to himself as he was pinned in place by Dick’s eyes. It wasn’t long before those eyes narrowed and Dick waved him over. It seemed casual enough to anyone watching but Jason saw the warning in that gaze.

Run, it told him, I dare you. I will chase, and I will catch.

And the worst part was, Jason knew he could out run Dick.

But outrunning him was not the problem.

Dick had caught onto him. Had picked up a lead and followed it, and found what he had hoped to find. He knew there was something amiss concerning Jason, now. And Dick knowing something meant that Bruce either already knew too, or would know.

Even if Jason ran then and there, he would have the Bats on his tail no matter what.

His only remaining option was to bargain. With Dick Grayson. Screw his luck, honestly.

He stepped out of the shadows with a defeated sigh but a guarded stance. He saw Dick freeze for a moment, but only for a moment, before he composed himself. Mostly. Jason saw those tapping fingers.

Shoulders growing more and more tense with every step Jason took, he eventually made it to where Dick was sitting.

“What,” he seethed, holding eye contact, “do you want, Dickface?”

A week prior…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dick chanted, summarising how he felt pretty well. His chest felt tight and his hand shook as he entered his codes to the Batcave. His other one was gripped tight around a small plastic card, the edges beginning to hurt his hand even through his suit’s gloves.

There’s no way this was real. When he offered himself for tonight’s patrol, he was told it was a quiet night. This was not quiet.

He rushed into the Batcave, breaths coming out as more shallow pants. He didn’t even know what he was rushing for. What was he going to do? What would he look up? How would he do anything about this? How would he–

“Dick?” Tim asked and Dick was suddenly very aware he’d been frantically pacing around the Batcave. His head snapped to his younger brother, who was sitting at the Batcomputer. His expression told Dick that he’d been watching him for a good few moments before he’d actually decided to say something.

“Tim!” Dick called, walking up and standing over him. Tim looked at him with a half-curious and half-worried gaze but tilted his head, prompting Dick to keep going. Not that Dick needed it, he would keep going either way.

He shoved the card towards Tim with slight difficulty. Tim startled at the sudden motion but gently took the card out of Dick’s hand. Dick thought he unintentionally made a wounded noise, but Tim had no reaction, so perhaps he imagined that.

“Tim,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I need you to read the name on that card to me. Please.”

He was aware he sounded slightly hysterical but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Someone was running around using his brother’s old library card. Someone had access to the card in the first place. His little brother’s card. He thought he deserved some damn hysterics.

Tim shot him a confused look but obliged, flipping the card the right way up. His eyes glided over the words and Dick saw the moment he realised. Tim froze, his gaze snapping back up to Dick.

“Dick–”

“Tim,” Dick interrupted with a whisper, “out loud. Read the name out loud to me. Please.”

Call it paranoid, but Dick needed to know he wasn’t making this up. That he wasn’t stupidly hallucinating a name that wasn’t actually there.

Tim swallowed, his grip on the card tightening. “Jason Peter Todd-Wayne,” he read, with obvious difficulty. Dick let out a startled laugh as he straightened up. He ran a frantic hand through his hair. “Fuck. Fuck!”

Tim stared at him. “This is… Jason’s old library card,” he pointed out and Dick nodded, perhaps a bit too fast.

“Yes,” he confirmed before his expression darkened. “But I found it on a rooftop, Tim. A rooftop!”

“A rooftop,” Tim echoed, Dick inhaling sharply.

“Yes, Tim,” he snapped. “A rooftop. Were you not listening?”

Tim shrunk back slightly and Dick backtracked with a sigh. Tim didn’t deserve that, he hadn’t done anything. Dick was just panicking. And seething. And about to throw up, maybe. Dick was a lot of things.

“Sorry,” he said, “I’m a bit of a mess, right now.”

Tim huffed. “I can see that. So, a rooftop. It’s someone skilled, then. Someone who at least semi-regularly hangs out on rooftops. But what would they need Jason’s library card for?”

Dick nodded, grateful for Tim’s ability to recover quickly. “I don’t know, Tim,” he said, “I don’t know.”

“I can hack the library records,” Tim offered, Dick blinking at him. “Check when the card was last used. If this is a recent thing.”

Dick allowed himself to smile. “Please,” he said, “if you would.”

Tim nodded at him before spinning his chair and turning to face the computer. Dick took the time to take some deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. His mind was a mash of far too many emotions and thoughts for him to manage right now, but he had to find out the details first. He couldn’t do this, today.

A few beeps and keyboard clicks later, Tim called his name. Dick blinked a few times at it, realising he’d zoned out.

“Sorry,” he apologised again, shaking his head. Tim shrugged and gestured to the computer screen.

“It’s been used every Wednesday, consistently,” he explained, Dick squinting at the text. “Since about three months ago.”

Something inside Dick’s gut flared. Someone was actively using his dead brother’s identity, reasoning be damned. After all the trouble he and Bruce went through to gather all of Jason’s legal documents and identifications in one place to prevent this kind of fraud– it was a fucking library card.

He must have been really seething because Tim tapped his arm, zoning him back in again.

“So?” Tim asked, hesitant. “What now?”

Dick paused, curling and uncurling his fists.

“Now we corner this imposter,” he spat, eyes narrowing. He was about to continue, but a part of Tim’s sentence fully registered in his mind at that moment.

Every Wednesday, he’d said, consistently.

Jason had also always sneaked away to the library every Wednesday. He’d hide in one of the seats by a table in the corner and read for hours. He even skipped patrol for it once or twice. Bruce was angry before Dick had told him just what Jason was doing. Bruce hadn’t been happy, per se, but Dick saw the slightly fond look in his eyes. Jason got away with it, every time. It was one of his fonder memories of the younger boy, if not one of the only, from the time.

Dick banished the thought with a sharp inhale and a shake of his head. No. Absolutely not. He stomped on the tiny, tiny sliver of hope that was trying to worm its way out of his heart. He wouldn’t let himself hope like this, not again.

“Every Wednesday,” he whispered, Tim watching him carefully. “Looks like I have a trip to Gotham Library to make next week.”

Tim hummed. “Let me know how it goes.”

Dick nodded, ruffling Tim’s hair. “Will do. Thanks, Timmy.”

A week later…

Dick stared at Jason coolly for a long moment before the insane fucker grinned. His eyes, however, remained unyielding and guarded.

“It is you,” Dick breathed, breaking the eye contact to look Jason up and down. “You’ve gotten bigger.”

And Jason couldn’t help it, he caught a laugh with his hand.

“What the hell? That’s your main concern?” He asked, a bit incredulous. Honestly, he had been expecting Dick to break down the moment he spoke. Guess not.

Dick hummed, not answering the question. “I found your library card.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Jason replied, a hint of bitterness in his tone. He held out his hand. “Hand it over, I like usin’ that.”

Dick didn’t move, only studying Jason like he was an exhibit of some sort. It lasted for a lot more time than Jason would’ve liked, so he brought an end to it.

“Ya done starin’?” He asked with a sharp tilt of his head. “‘M not gonna fucking disappear.”

“Really?” Dick asked dryly, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not convinced you’re not a hallucination.”

Jason groaned, smacking Dick’s head. “Not.”

“I see,” Dick said with a nod at the seat across from him. “Wanna take a seat?”

Jason snorted. “What is this, an interrogation?”

Dick beamed at him. “No, more of a catch-up.”

Jason stared at him for a hot moment before he reluctantly sat down in the seat. Dick was still watching him with careful eyes.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Jason pointed out, gesturing vaguely. Dick shrugged.

“Oh no,” he said, “I’m absolutely losing my shit, but I can’t exactly do that in a public library, much less in a situation like this. I don’t even know what I’m dealing with. A clone? Dimension travel? I’m completely out of my depth, here.” He huffed a borderline hysterical laugh, running a quick hand through his hair. Upon closer inspection, Dick looked exhausted.

Jason hummed. “Not an impersonator? Time travel? Resurrection?”

Dick bit the corner of his lip. “Not the former, you’re definitely Jay.” Jason pretended like that didn’t send a pang through his heart. You’re definitely Jay. “And time travel isn’t exactly plausible since you’re older and supposed to be dead.”

He spat the last word out with a venom Jason had only heard directed at the worst of the worst or Bruce. There was a flash of dangerous heat in Dick’s eyes before it extinguished and he slumped back in the chair.

“Resurrection,” he mused with a sigh. “By what means?”

Jason shrugged with a slight frown. “By what means are clones and rifts in the dimensional universe made? How should I know?”

He did know. But he was not naive enough to spill every detail about those damned pits to Dick before he fully assessed the situation. He couldn’t risk Dick lashing out, either.

The corner of Dick’s lip quirked up and Jason hated the wave of warmth he felt from that.

“You look so different and yet you’ve hardly changed at all,” Dick said, something fond in his expression before it vanished. “But you won’t come back.”

It wasn’t a question. Jason didn’t take it as one.

“No,” he confirmed, “as long as that maniac is alive, there is no coming back.”

Dick frowned, a shadow of something falling over his eyes, but didn’t refute the statement. There was no question as to who Jason was referring to and Jason knew that Dick knew. So, instead, he said; “B loves you.”

A statement. A truth. A plea.

Jason chuckled, low and a bit sad. “Sure. But who is he really choosing, through his actions? Me, or the Joker?”

“If he knew–” Dick started but Jason cut him off.

“He will know,” he spat, “eventually. By my own means. That means you won’t be fuckin’ telling him anything.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Dick, who only looked at it in contemplation. There was a moment of tense silence as Dick’s scrutinizing gaze washed over him.

“Okay,” he said and Jason bluescreened.

“Okay?” Jason echoed, the word sounding foreign to his ears. “Okay? Just like that?”

Dick gave him a sad smile and a minute wave of his hand. “Just like that,” he confirmed, “if you say you will tell him by your means, then I trust you. I trust you, Jay.”

Jason gaped at him. There’s no way it’s that fucking easy.

“B won’t find out, I’ll make sure of it. But under one condition.”

There it was.

“Of course, of course, the terms and conditions,” Jason said sarcastically, groaning. Dick’s eyes flashed with a mischief Jason recognised a little bit too well.

“You have to meet me here,” Dick said, tapping the table between them. “Every Wednesday. Just so I can see you.”

Jason snorted. “Nice fuckin’ try, Goldie, but fuck no. Wednesdays are my alone time days. Shove it.”

Dick tilted his head. “Oh, I know. You always snuck away to the library on Wednesday evenings,” he said, “I just want to join you. I won’t talk if you don’t want to, but I’ll hang around.”

Jason mulled it over in his head. On one hand, Dick was definitely being a little fucking shit with the offer. He wanted to keep an eye on him, sure, but he was being annoying on purpose. This arrangement would likely backfire on one or both of them, sooner or later.

On the other hand, it wasn’t a terrible deal. Dick could be silent as a mouse if persuaded well enough, and his plan wouldn’t be completely jeopardised. Bruce wouldn’t find out and Dick’s stupid paranoia would be satiated.

Jason groaned. “Fine. Ya got a deal. But.” He held his hand out again, firmer this time. “Give me my damn card back, stealer.”

Dick beamed, fishing the card from inside his jacket pocket.

“You know, maybe you should’ve thought twice before leaving a card with Jason Peter Todd-Wayne etched onto it on a rooftop,” Dick said, amused, as he placed it in Jason’s hand.

Jason took it quickly, retracting his hand and pocketing the card himself. He gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “I didn’t fuckin’ leave it there on purpose, Dickwad.”

“You shouldn’t be carrying it at all!” Dick whisper-yelled, incredulous.

Jason snorted. “What? Worried ‘bout me?”

“Always, Little Wing,” Dick replied with a firm nod. “But seriously, it was a bit stupid.”

“Shut your trap. It’s a perfectly usable library card. Not my fault it decided to fall out.”

There was a few beats of oddly comfortable silence before Jason spoke again. Dick had implied it, but Jason needed to know.

“B doesn’t know,” he said and Dick shook his head.

“No,” he confirmed, then swallowed. “Tim does, but he’s trustworthy. He won’t tell.”

Jason felt a hot spike of anger, eyes immediately narrowing. He trusted his replacement about as far as he could throw him– which was actually quite far, but for the sake of the proverb, not very far.

“You told the kid but not the old man?” He asked, disbelieving. “Seriously?”

Dick had the audacity to look sheepish. “I was panicking, okay? And Tim saw me and asked what was wrong. I couldn’t lie to him. He helped me find you, really.”

“So I have him to blame for you interrupting my Wednesday?” Jason asked with a raised eyebrow. Dick shot him a glare.

“I said helped. Tim’s a good kid and he can keep a secret. Don’t worry about him.”

“Worried is the last thing I am about that kid,” Jason said, but it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears. By no means did he like the new catch, but that was still just another kid in a red, green and yellow suit. Sue him for feeling slightly worried about the kid’s overall safety.

By Dick’s tiny grin, he didn’t believe Jason either. Thankfully, he kept quiet, likely knowing what would’ve happened if he didn’t.

“Right, nice chat,” Jason said after a few moments, standing up. “But I’ve got places to be and so do you. Be a good little birdie and fly back to the nest, yeah?”

Dick’s next moves were almost comically fast. He shot up in his seat before standing up as well, rigid as a pole. Jason startled, tilting his head in question.

“Wait!” Dick called, then winced because of the volume. Then, quieter: “Can I hug you?”

Some tension leaked out of Jason’s startled frame and he rolled his eyes. “Really, Goldie?”

Dick just smiled at him, outstretching his arms slowly. Jason groaned.

“Fine. One hug. One hug.”

He didn’t have time to brace himself before Dick practically leapt at him, squeezing the ever-loving life out of Jason’s torso. Jason stumbled back slightly but managed to keep his balance, letting out a long sigh as he let his brother cling to him.

After a few long moments, Jason extracted himself from Dick’s grip. “‘Kay. See ya next week, then.”

He turned to leave, but Dick was in front of him again in an instant. Sneaky bitch. He blinked at the shorter man, unimpressed. “What, Dick?”

Dick stared at him for god knows how long before his eyes started pooling with tears. Nevertheless, he continued beaming at Jason, sad and watery.

“I’ve missed you, Jason,” he admitted and Jason’s breath hitched. “I really have. See you on Wednesday.”

He didn’t even give Jason a chance to reply before he was gone, vanished like the trained bat he was. Of course, if Jason paid close attention, he could hear the sounds of a window being pried open and see a flash of blue. But all of Jason’s attention was currently on Dick’s words.

“Damn you, Dick,” he said, fists clenching. “Damn you.”

Dick only felt slightly guilty as he walked back into the Cave after his meeting with Jason. Because it was Jason, wasn’t it? It was. It had to be. No one else could be that painfully familiar in their movements or their speech.

Still, he felt a bit sheepish as he placed the few strands of Jason’s hair he’d managed to nab at the end of their hug into the DNA reader of the Batcomputer. Honestly, he was shocked that Jason hadn’t noticed. Or maybe Jason had but didn’t point it out. To Dick, both options sounded oddly unbelievable.

He wrung his hands as the computer processed, one red bar chunk at a time. It’s not that he didn’t believe Jason or his gut– but he had to know for sure. He had to be sure. He could not handle false hope.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the results to come up. Dick almost sagged with relief as the Computer displayed, in flashing letters:

DNA MATCH. Sample / Jason Peter Todd [Robin II].

“Full of surprises, Little Wing,” he whispered, grinning like an idiot. “As always.”

He shook his head as he promptly deleted the results from the computer and took the strands of hair back. He loved B, he did, but Jay was placing a tentative trust in him and he was not going to ruin this second chance.

He spun on his heel, intending to go back up to the manor, only to come face-first with Tim near the staircase. He managed to repress a pathetic squeak.

“Hi,” Tim said innocently with a tilt of his head. “You seem chipper.”

Despite the initial shock, Dick beamed at him. “You would not believe why.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “I might. It is Jason, isn’t it? Using the card?”

Dick nodded happily, glad Tim figured it out as well. Then, Tim bowed his head and a frown settled across Dick’s face. “Tim? You okay?”

“You won’t, uh.” Tim shifted, hesitant. “Take Robin away now, will you?”

Dick frowned deeper. “What? No. Why would we do that?”

“Well,” Tim huffed, a bit impatient. “Jason’s back, right? So…” He trailed off but Dick understood what he was implying. So Jason can be Robin, again.

Dick felt a bit bad for laughing the next moment. That was ridiculous. But Tim’s eyes widened at him with a blend of confusion and hurt and his laughter abruptly cut off.  “Tim. Timmy. Baby bird. No, absolutely not. I highly doubt Jay even wants to be Robin, anymore. It’s yours.”

And he meant that. From his brief interaction with Jason earlier, it was clear his brother wanted nothing to do with Batman, let alone Robin. While Dick had no doubts that his younger brother loved the mantle while he had held it, he didn’t exactly seem eager to retrieve his former position.

“Right,” Tim replied, a bit confused, “what are you laughin’ at me for?”

Dick bit down on his lip, smiling. “Sorry. I just can’t believe you actually asked me that. I cannot imagine Jason running around in the Robin costume, now.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I like being Robin,” he admitted, “so I keep it?”

“You keep it,” Dick confirmed.

“Cool,” Tim said with a nod, brightening. “So, uh, how exactly is Jason back?”

Dick shrugged, allowing the change of subject. “I’m just as clueless as you, Tim. But… Jason didn’t seem sure, either,” he huffed, “granted, he mostly deflected the question, but still.”

“He knows something,” Tim finished, “I get it. Are you planning to look into it?”

Dick surprised even himself by shaking his head. He hadn’t even thought about it, really. Sue him, but he wasn’t particularly interested in researching his younger brother’s death and resurrection just to likely come up with nothing. If Jason wanted to tell him, he’d tell him one of the weeks himself. And if Jason truly didn’t know, then the chances of Dick finding out anything more were very slim.

He relayed these thoughts to Tim, who hummed in agreement. “I guess,” he said, “so, you’re meeting him every week?”

Dick smiled. “Every Wednesday, yeah. It’s an offer I made him in exchange for not telling B about this.”

Tim frowned slightly at that. “So we are keeping B in the dark.”

Dick nodded, only slightly sheepish. “Jason says he wants Bruce to find out on his terms,” he explained, “and he trusted me not to tell him until he does. Just as I’m trusting you not to, either.”

Tim bit his lip and Dick could see the gears turning in the boy’s head. “I can do that. But don’t you think B kind of… deserves to know?”

His voice was quiet and unsure, as if passing onto territory he wasn’t welcome on. It was the same form of careful delicacy Dick always saw on Bruce when his parents were brought up.

And Bruce did deserve to know. Dick knew he did. Dick had lost a brother when Jason died, yes, but Bruce had lost a son. Bruce had been objectively too late to save Jason. The guilt ripped him apart for months before Tim came along. Dick, despite being at odds with Bruce at the time, still witnessed it. If anyone deserved to know that Jason was alive, it was Bruce. But…

“I wouldn’t have agreed if Jay didn’t say he wanted to tell B on his own terms, eventually,” Dick said with a sharp inhale. “I promise. I think he just needs some time. And honestly, Tim? Time is something I have.”

He had plenty of time as long as Jason stayed. If Jason wanted to play the long game, Dick could provide. Even if it meant keeping their dad in the dark for the time being.

Tim swallowed hard but nodded. “Got it, no telling B.”

Dick grinned at him. “Thanks, Tim. You’re amazing.”

“Mhmm.”

Jason managed to meet Dick a total of three times before things went askew. Nothing grave, but Jason still would’ve rathered swallowing nails.

The three times themselves were alright, present circumstances considered.

During the first one, he’d asked for Jason’s phone number.

“You’re kiddin’ right?” Jason had replied. “No. Absolutely not.”

Dick frowned at him with a pout. “Why not? I wanna be able to contact you.”

Jason fixed him with a glare. “Don’t act dumb. I know the old man traces all your outgoing and incoming phone calls. I’m not that stupid, Dickwing– and neither are you.”

“What?” Dick said, scrunching his nose. “No, he doesn’t.”

Jason glared harder and Dick huffed in defeat. “Fine, yeah, he does. But Tim could get around that. C’mon, please?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Replacement can get around Bruce’s bugs?”

Dick smiled, radiating pride. “Of course. B may be stupidly paranoid but he could never outdo Tim on the tech front,” he replied, “it’s kind of fascinating.”

Jason clenched his jaw in thought. It was risky, extremely so, but these meetings themselves were already fucking risky. He also had a feeling that Dick would somehow weasel his number out of somewhere on God’s earth even if Jason didn’t give it to him.

He gave a frustrated sigh as he wrote a familiar string of numbers on a small piece of paper and handed it to his older brother.

“Memorise this, then burn it,” he said, clipped. “And I don’t trust that kid. If you have to contact me, use a fuckin’ burner. I know you have plenty.”

Despite the conditions, Dick visibly brightened, taking the paper happily. “Got it. Thank you.”

Jason waved his hand. “Fuck off.”

Their second scheduled meeting was quite uneventful. Jason had just dealt with quite a messy gang fight the night before and was exhausted as hell. He’d walked into the library and sat down in silence, ignoring Dick entirely in favour of his book.

Dick, to his credit, had stayed entirely silent, too. He had only tapped Jason’s knee once, tilting his head in obvious question: You okay?

Jason had just nodded slowly and gone back to his book. Dick didn’t bother him again, distracting himself with his phone for the rest of the evening. Jason didn’t voice it, but it was appreciated. Even as he left, Dick didn’t speak, only ruffling Jason’s hair before leaving the library.

During their third, Jason had been feeling fidgety as hell. He tapped his fingers on the table absentmindedly and struggled to flip the pages of his book far, far too many times. He just couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety, and he hated it. He had no reason to be anxious.

“What’s up with you?” Dick asked immediately after he arrived. And damn, was it that obvious?

“Yeah, kind of,” Dick replied with a curious smile and Jason realised he’d said that out loud. He sighed.

“You’re sure Bruce doesn’t know about this?” He asked, eyes narrowing at Dick, who frowned but nodded.

“I’m sure. He’s too obsessed with chasing that new crimelord,” he explained, far too nonchalant, “and Tim has kept completely silent. Why?”

Jason bit back a surprised laugh at Dick’s crimelord claim. At least his plan was working on the attention front.

“You’ve been leaving the house consistently to meet me, haven’t you?” He asked and Dick nodded in response. “And the self-proclaimed Greatest Detective won’t find that suspicious, you don’t think?”

Dick snorted. “I think you forget who you’re talking to,” he said, amused. “I’ve been dealing with B’s paranoid ass and sneaking out since I was nine. He doesn’t suspect a thing, I promise.”

And the odd thing was that Jason trusted him. Dick promising things was not uncommon, it was practically the older man’s favourite phrase. With how much he said it, sometimes it seemed like it was a throwaway set of words– a hoax. Something he couldn’t live up to.

And Dick knew how to get his way using words. He knew what to say to people to sway them in certain directions, he knew what to say to aggravate people, to please people. He’d do both and he’d get results. Jason had seen it first hand– sure, Dick could yell, but Dick knew how to make his words hurt you even when they seemed harmless to anyone else.

It was what made the vigilante in front of him terrifying. 

But it was still Dick. Even if his brain would scream at him to not trust his words, Jason would do it anyway. He couldn’t not trust Dick. Jason had felt a variety of negative emotions towards his brother– anger, hurt, bitterness, disappointment, jealousy– but never distrust. In a way, it was infuriating in itself.

“Whatever,” Jason grumbled, going back to reading. He shot one last glare over the top of the pages. “But if he finds out, I’m mauling your ass.”

“Leave my ass out of this,” Dick replied flippantly, “and you could try Little Wing. You could try.”

Jason made a few mocking noises before silence settled over them once again.

About an hour before their fourth meeting, Jason had received a text from an unknown number. Opening it curiously and scanning the contents, he huffed a laugh.

The text was obviously from Dick, signed off with a ‘-D’ and a ‘:P’.

There wasn’t much, just a few words informing Jason that he wouldn’t be able to make it to that evening’s meetup. The bastard didn’t even bother to explain why, just claiming that he’d be at the one next week and not to worry about him.

Like he expected Jason to be worried. Dumbass.

So, with that information, Jason headed to the library, content to enjoy one of his reading evenings without Dick in the opposite seat. He took his own one, adjusting himself to be comfortable and began reading.

There were a few moments within the first minutes when Jason expected Dick to jump out of nowhere, beaming like an absolute idiot or screaming: ‘Surprise! I’m here!’

But minutes ticked by and there was no sign of his older brother, so Jason accepted that Dick had been busy with something. Some actual peace and quiet for once, then.

Of course, he’d spoken too soon.

There was a sound of shuffling as someone took the spot across from him and Jason looked up to meet the blue eyes of his worst fucking nightmare. Anger spiked in his chest as his eyes narrowed.

Because there sat the replacement, dressed in a casual red hoodie and jeans. Like he wasn’t in danger of Jason slamming his head on the fucking desk.

“No,” he growled and Tim just blinked at him, startled.  “Get lost.”

But Tim didn’t make any move to leave, just pulling a tablet from the bag he’d brought with him. Jason’s glare rapidly turned suspicious and borderline murderous. There was no way the kid being here on the one night Dick was a fucking coincidence.

“Did Dick put you up to this?” He sneered. Tim shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I came on my own.”

What the fuck.

“And why did you do that?” Jason spat. “Don’t you have other shit to be doin’?”

Tim shrugged. “I wanted to meet you, but Dick wouldn’t let me. So I took matters into my own hands.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment, bemused, before the puzzle pieces clicked in his head. Clever little shit.

“You orchestrated this,” he stated bluntly and Tim’s expression shifted into something a bit proud. “You made Dick busy, somehow.”

“Maybe,” Tim replied vaguely, but his face said it all. Guilty, Jason thought, guilty as shit.

Jason took a deep sigh. While distracting Dick well enough to sneak away from him was admittedly kind of impressive, he still didn’t exactly feel like staying in Tim’s annoying presence. “Well, congratulations. We’ve met. Ya can leave, now.”

Tim spared him a glance before he continued just tapping away at his tablet. Jason swore his eye twitched. The nerve of this kid.

“Kid,” he said quietly, no room for arguing in his tone, “either you get up and fucking leave, or I put a bullet through your skull.”

Tim’s gaze snapped up to meet his and Jason felt almost sadistically proud at the flash of fear in those eyes. Even despite that, Tim seemed content to hold his ground. What the fuck were they feeding this kid? Anti-fear toxin?

“You could,” he said thoughtfully, “but you won’t.”

He sounded way too fucking sure about that. Granted, Jason didn’t actually have any of his guns on him, but he was a former bat. There were about as many knives hidden on his person as he had teeth and he had no doubts that Tim was also hiding weapons under that hoodie. His hand twitched towards his closest available one.

“And why not? I’m sure your dear Batman would love to know that another one of his birdies flew too close to the sun,” Jason challenged with a raised eyebrow. Tim gestured vaguely to their location.

“We’re in a public library,” he pointed out like Jason was an idiot. “Do you want to get arrested?”

Jason scoffed. “Bold of you to assume I’d let myself get arrested.”

Tim hummed, looking Jason up and down. “Sure, you could get away, but it’d cause you problems, would it not? You’re not wearing any kind of mask or anything.”

Jason wouldn’t admit it, but the kid had a point. Without his gear and his helmet, he was entirely vulnerable to being pinned by the police as anyone else in this goddamn library, even with his skill set. He’d also rather not get banned from his favourite place. Not to mention that he was legally dead and he wanted to stay that way. So, hurting the kid was out of the question.

“Nothing’s stopping you from leaving, though,” Tim said before Jason could gather his thoughts enough to reply.

Seriously? How naive did the kid think Jason was? He trusted Dick not to try to follow him back to any of his safehouses– they had that mutual kind of tentative trust. Jason would meet him and Dick wouldn’t try and interfere with him outside those meetings.

Tim, though? He didn’t trust him not to follow him for a second.

Jason fixed him with a deadpan stare. “You’re tryna tell me that if I walked out those doors, right now,” he said, pointing at the doors in question. “I would not get stalked by cameras and footsteps that think they’re sneaky?”

Tim shrugged. “You’re trained to avoid cameras.”

“And you’re trained to hack them.”

Tim just shrugged again and Jason held back a groan. Jesus fucking Christ. He threw his head back, leaning it on the headrest of the chair.

“Fine,” he hissed and Tim raised an eyebrow at him. “But if I hear a fuckin’ peep outta ya, only one of us is gonna be going home unharmed and it will not be you.”

The threat must’ve landed successfully because Tim nodded quickly, fingers fidgeting around his tablet. Jason shot him one last sharp glare and returned to his book.

To his begrudged credit, Tim did stay silent for almost the entire evening. Jason caught him staring at him multiple times before the kid’s gaze quickly snapped away and he went back to tapping shit into his tablet. But he didn’t speak, so Jason left it.

About ten minutes before Jason was planning to leave, the replacement managed to make his evening even fucking worse.

“You’re the Red Hood,” he said, completely out of left field and barely above a whisper. Jason’s gaze immediately snapped to him and the eyes he met were nervous but confident in their deduction. Where the fuck had the kid pulled that out from? He didn’t plan for the Bats to know his identity for at least another two months or so.

“And what,” Jason seethed, leaning forward, “gave you that idea, little bird?”

Tim flinched back minutely and swallowed.

“Same mannerisms,” he explained, turning his tablet around to face Jason. On it were a few photos and paused videos of him out as the Red Hood. Nothing concrete at all, if the lengths of the clips were anything to go by. This kid. “And same body shape, mostly. I wouldn’t have known for sure if I hadn’t come and see you today.”

“Interesting,” Jason drawled, “any other proof? Or are ya accusin’ me based off of some short clips?”

Tim frowned slightly. “I don’t need any more. Your reaction practically confirms it.”

Which was true enough. There was no point in denying it, not with the confidence that Tim had made his claim. He was convinced that he was correct and Jason could recognise stubbornness when it was right in front of him. Honestly, if the kid had figured it out, he was surprised Dick hadn’t brought it up.

“And you’re not denying it,” Tim added after a moment of silence.

Jason hummed, low and a bit gravelly. “No,” he agreed, “and what do you plan to do with this information, oh dear successor? Ya gonna go runnin’ to the big bad Bat?”

“B?” Tim asked like Jason could’ve meant anyone fucking else. “No. I promised Dick I wouldn’t tell him anything about you. And this falls under about you.”

Interesting. So Dick had sworn the kid to secrecy and Tim had followed through. Bruce must be slipping on his detective game.

“And Dickiebird himself? Ya gonna inform him?” Jason mused, tapping his fingers on the table. “I’m kind of surprised he doesn’t know himself.”

Tim shrugged. “Dick hasn’t been paying that much attention to the Red Hood. He must’ve been too occupied with, you know, his younger brother rising from the dead,” he said, a bit incredulous. He winced immediately after the words left his mouth.

Jason let out a surprised snort. “Aren’t you feisty?”

Tim shot him an exasperated glare. “I’m serious, Jason, I don’t think he’s talked about anything else with me for the past month.”

“So, you gonna tell him?” Jason asked again, ignoring Tim’s statement. “Crush his little hopes and dreams of having a good younger brother back?”

Tim stared at him for a moment. “Do you want me to?”

Jason froze, frowning. “What?”

Tim bit down on his lip but repeated the question nonetheless. “Do you want me to tell Dick?”

That was a surprise. Jason was under the impression that Tim was on Dick’s side here completely. Keeping secrets from Bruce was one thing, they’d all done it, once upon a time. But Dick?

“Does what I want matter, here?” He asked, incredulous. “Aren’t’cha supposed to be a loyal little bird?”

“It doesn’t, really,” Tim said honestly, answering his first question. “I would’ve told Dick anyway. I just wanted to see what you would say. And it hardly has anything to do with my loyalty. If Dick can hide shit from me, I can hide shit from him.”

Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at that, even if it lacked humour.

“You definitely have guts, kid,” he said with a taunting tilt of his head. “Go ahead. Dickhead would’ve figured it out on his own eventually, anyway. But.”

He paused, narrowing his eyes at Tim dangerously. The kid swallowed hard, maintaining eye contact despite the nervousness radiating off of him.

“If a little birdie tells me that Bruce knows, a different little birdie will be six feet under.”

Tim nodded sharply and Jason couldn’t deny that he was slightly impressed. Tim was obviously fucking terrified but had stood his ground the entire evening. There wasn’t a singular moment where the kid looked to have considered backing down from the interaction. Jason couldn’t tell if it was bravery or a crippling lack of self-preservation.

Knowing the history of the Robin mantle, probably the latter.

“So glad we have an understandin’,” he said, getting up to leave and flashing Tim a sharp grin. “Oh, and Tim?”

The kid straightened at the use of his name, raising an eyebrow.

“Next time, don’t go antagonising people who might want you dead. Especially in civvies.” He flashed one of his knives quickly before hiding it away in his jacket again. Any normal person would’ve missed the movement, but Tim was bat-trained. He had certainly seen it– confirmed by his rapid intake of breath.

“Unless they’re a rogue or a criminal you’re apprehending, of course,” Jason added after a second of thought. “Back-talking is part of the Robin charm. Just a tip.”

With that, he left the library, confident that he wouldn’t be followed or traced for the first time that entire evening.

Dick didn’t like to brag that much about how amazing of a detective he was, but even he could see that something was… off with Tim. Not wrong, per se, but off.

Bruce hadn’t pointed it out. Dick wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to bother Tim if he wasn’t actually doing anything harmful or if he just didn’t notice. He suspected the former.

That past week, Tim had been slightly quieter than usual– not usually cause for concern, since Tim had many quiet days– but he had been extra quiet. He avoided eye contact with Dick at least three times in that last week alone.

That was weird.

Dick never got to point it out, though, because Tim beat him to it. Dick had just been putting on his jacket to go out and meet Jay when his youngest brother approached him, a nervous expression painted on his face. Dick tilted his in question, curious as to what Tim needed.

Tim only shuffled on his feet, looking everywhere but Dick.

“Tim?” Dick prompted, firm but not forcing. “Do you need something?”

Tim bit his lip at being addressed but nodded. “Yeah, uh…”

He met Dick’s gaze and Dick smiled encouragingly. There wasn’t much Dick could think of that would make Tim this nervous to admit. Whatever Tim said, Dick was here to listen, and he tried his best to let that reflect in his expressions.

“I need to talk to you about something, uh, big,” Tim began and took a deep breath. “But I’m not sure how you’ll react.”

Dick softened, placing a gentle hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“Tim,” he said, “if it’s super important, and I’m assuming not bat-related, we can wait till later and get more comfortable when you tell me. You don’t have to push yourself to tell me if you’re not ready.”

He swayed his head a bit. “Plus, nothing you say could ever make me react in any terrible way you’re imagining. Even if it upsets me, I’ll get over it. You don’t have to worry about me being mad at you.”

Tim scowled slightly. “It’s not me I’m worried about, here.”

“Oh,” Dick said, eyes widening marginally. “Me?”

He huffed a small laugh. Tim worrying about him was definitely adorable, he decided. And yet, Tim had a look in his eyes that Dick couldn’t take all that lightly. Something was really troubling him, and it had to do with Dick’s feelings.

“And,” Tim continued, “I’d definitely feel much better if I told you now. Like, right now.”

Dick pursed his lips, retreating his hand and standing up straight. Yes, he had to meet Jason in a few minutes, but his brothers were equally as important. “Alright,” he said with a nod. “What is it?”

Tim swallowed, his hands fidgeting. His gaze was slightly clouded, like he was at war with himself over what to say. Dick waited patiently, head tilted and breathing steady. After a few moments, Tim’s expression cleared and then hardened with visible determination.

“Jason’s the Red Hood,” he said, clipped and quick. Almost like ripping a bandaid off. He immediately turned his gaze away from Dick, opting to stare holes into the floor instead.

Dick blinked. That’s it?

“Yeah,” he answered easily, some tension flowing out of him. “I know.”

The speed at which Tim’s head snapped up again was record-breaking.

“What?” He asked, eyebrows pinched. “What?”

Dick just hummed. Deducing Jason’s vigilante slash crimelord identity wasn’t hard, once they’d met in person. The Red Hood was experienced, according to their records. He was Jason’s height and build. From what Dick had seen, they’d had very similar movements, as well.

Further research told him that The Red Hood was protective of kids. If that didn’t scream Jay, he didn’t know what did.

Not to mention the library card being on a rooftop in the first place.

“What do you mean you know?” Tim asked again at Dick’s lack of answer. He seemed really hooked on that, huh?

“What? Did you think you were the only detective in the family, Timmy?” Dick said, allowing himself to be just a bit smug. Tim might’ve been smarter than him in a general sense but Dick was still a detective in his own right.

Tim frowned. “But,” he started, shaking his head. “You didn’t mention…?”

He trailed off and Dick snorted. “Why would I mention that? It’s not exactly a secret I’ll be shouting from the rooftops.”

Tim huffed, collecting himself. “So you know. And you’re… okay, with it?”

Dick bit his lip. Well, no, was his original thought. Jason was actively engaging with crime, actively killing people. Generally, that’d be mostly against Dick’s morals. Batman doesn’t kill, rang in his head. And Robin doesn’t, either. Seek justice, not vengeance.

But from what Dick was seeing– Jason was killing other criminals. He was killing the worst of the worst, even if it may be… unnecessary. He was defending kids. He was keeping the crime rate at an all-time low. And, well…

“I trust Jay,” he told Tim, crossing his arms. “His methods are… questionable, but arguing with him on them would be pointless. Jason works on an the end justifies the means kind of morality, he always has– for the most part. And the crime rate is lowering. He’s keeping himself and Crime Alley safe in the way he thinks is best.”

He sighed, shooting Tim a wry smile. “Maybe we can convince him to stop killing people at a later point, but not now. He won’t listen. Not to me, not to you, and certainly not to B.”

Tim was staring at him and had seemingly mirrored Dick’s position sometime in the last few minutes. His arms were crossed and he wore a thoughtful expression.

“So to answer your question,” Dick said, “no. I’m not okay with it. But I’m not not okay with it, either. I’m somewhere in that grey area.”

“Huh,” Tim said and Dick had a feeling he’d just given the younger boy a lot of food for thought. “Right. When did you figure it out?”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “That Jay was Red Hood? After our second meeting-ish. It was pretty obvious once the initial shock of him being there passed.”

Tim nodded, seeming to accept the answer. Dick nodded back before a curious frown took over his face. Hold on, now.

“Wait,” Dick said, catching Tim’s attention again. He narrowed his eyes at his brother. “How do you know about Jason?”

Tim smiled at him with a raised eyebrow. “I figured out all of your identities when I was nine. Is it really so hard to believe that I know this?”

His tone was nonchalant, almost perfect. If Dick was anyone else, Tim likely would’ve gotten away with that. But Dick knew better. He stayed quiet, only narrowing his eyes further.

Tim swallowed, smile turning sheepish. “So you know how you told me specifically not to go and meet Jason, last week?”

Dick’s eyes widened like saucers. Tim went to meet Jason. He trusted Jay, he did, but all his initial reactions towards Tim were not good. He trusted Jay enough to stay away from Tim in general, but Tim coming to him? Alone?

“You,” he said, disbelieving. His fist clenched, either from anger or stress. Maybe both. “You went to see Jason. Alone.”

“Yep,” Tim replied, popping the P like he didn’t just give Dick grey hairs prematurely.

“And you’re not hurt?” Dick asked, a bit cautious. Tim didn’t look hurt but he had the family habit of trying to hide injuries and brush them off.

“No,” Tim agreed, shaking his head. “He threatened me, multiple times, but no actual harm done.”

“He threatened you,” Dick repeated, not at all surprised. It wasn’t a question.

Tim nodded. “Yeah. The amount of knives that guy carries is scary. I carry hidden weapons too, obviously, but damn. Did he always do that?”

Dick let out a semi-surprised snort. “Hide knives on him? Oh yeah. Bruce gave out to him for it multiple times. You wouldn’t believe how many times I found a knife or two in his boots. I never actually saw him use the knives, though.”

His eyes narrowed at Tim again. “Don’t change the subject, though. What did you think of Jay?”

Tim tilted his head. “You’re not mad that I went to see him?”

Dick shrugged. “A bit. But it would be a bit hypocritical of me to give out to you for that kind of thing considering the amount of times I did it myself.” He snickered. “Plus, nothing went wrong, so, I don’t have much to be too mad about.”

Tim smiled at him. “He was different than I thought he’d be, to be honest,” he admitted.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Whenever you or B talked about Jason it was always about his strength but recklessness, his valour but impulsiveness. You made him sound brave but careless. Not in a bad way, of course!” He waved his hands around in a placating gesture. “But what I saw in that library was a scary literature nerd whose every move was surprisingly calculated. Yeah, he was a bit blunt and stubborn– but he picked his battles. He threatened effectively but conceded and bargained when threats didn’t work. I don’t know, it’s just…”

He took a deep breath as Dick tried to hold back a laugh at ‘scary literature nerd.’

“He didn’t seem real, before. He was just an example, something to learn from and not to repeat his mistakes. Now he’s much more real and it’s almost like whiplash. He’s a real person who is much more complex than just the words a good soldier.”

Dick winced at the mention of the wording of the display case. He’d never liked that, much. Nevertheless, a soft and proud smile wormed its way onto his face right after.

“I’m glad, baby bird,” he said, ruffling Tim’s hair, receiving a surprised and indigent squawk in return. “Thank you for not listening to B and I, for once. Jay needs that kind of humanisation more than anyone. You’re a good kid.”

“Hardly a kid,” Tim retorted but Dick just laughed. He went to turn and finally leave through the door, since he was already late to meet Jason. If he didn’t show up soon, Jason would get too excited about being rid of him two weeks in a row. He couldn’t have that. But a thought lit up in his mind and he focused on Tim again, beaming.

“Say, Tim,” he said, Tim looking at him from where he’d pulled out his phone and was tapping away at it. “Did you get along with Jason?”

Tim raised an eyebrow and made a ‘so-so’ gesture with his free hand. “Well, he didn’t like, do anything to me. But he didn’t seem thrilled by my presence, either. We mostly just sat in silence. When we did talk it was mostly just threats and sassy quips.”

Dick snorted, entirely unsurprised. He’d never thought about Tim and Jason having a conversation, he’d never had to– but he could imagine it very clearly. They were both, at their core, snarky and stubborn. What a match.

“Interesting,” he hummed and Tim had obviously sensed something amiss because his eyes narrowed. “And how would you feel about joining me, today?”

Tim almost dropped his phone. “Joining you? To see Jason?”

“Yeah,” Dick confirmed, “why not? He didn’t hurt you alone and he’ll hardly hurt you with me there. Both of my little brothers in the same place…”

He trailed off, his smile stretching wide. It’s all he could have ever wished for. He would have never thought it could be possible– that Tim and Jason would ever officially meet. But now it was possible. It had already happened.

Tim swallowed, glancing over his shoulder like something was going to jump out at him. He sighed. “Can I go grab my tablet?”

Dick beamed.

“Go for it, Timmers. I’ll get your coat and shoes ready. Don’t take too long, I’m probably already getting an earful about being late.” The last part was mostly grumbled to himself as Tim scurried off to snatch his device.

Jason took back every nice thing he’d thought about his older brother this past week. Every single thing.

“You’re kiddin’,” he said, glare bouncing between Dick and his tag-along. It was bad enough he had to deal with Tim last week– now both of them? “You cannot be serious.”

“Serious as a heart attack, Little Wing!” Dick replied, beaming and sitting in his chair. Jason saw Tim pull up a chair next to Dick out of the corner of his eye. The kid sat quietly, legs crossed and tablet already in his hands.

“So ya show up late,” Jason hissed, raising an eyebrow. “And you bring an uninvited guest. I thought you were supposed to be the Robin with manners.”

“Timmy’s not uninvited,” Dick retorted, smug. “I invited him.”

Jason glared. Dick smiled at him in a way that made him look extremely punchable. More than usual, anyway.

Tim’s head raised slightly and Jason’s gaze turned to him. The kid tensed slightly but gave a small nod in greeting. Jason rolled his eyes at him before looking back at Dick.

“Can I ask why you invited him?” He asked, sighing. “Babysitter not available or somethin’?”

“I’m seventeen,” Tim said from Dick’s left. Jason ignored him.

“Nah,” Dick denied, “I just wanted him to come along. After all, you’ve already met, so.”

So Dick had found out, then. A part of Jason wondered if Tim had spilled the beans on the whole crimelord thing yet. He’d guess no, considering he wasn’t presently getting an earful about morals and justice and vengeance.

“He knows,” Tim chimed, as if reading his mind. Jason’s gaze snapped to him again and he shrugged. “Not even from me. He knew before I told him.”

That took Jason off guard. Dick had known. Known before Tim, apparently. Which means he’d known for a while.

“Yeah?” Jason said, trying his best not to sound choked up. Dick was still smiling at him, the creepy bastard. “No earful about morals? Justice, or whatever?”

Dick shrugged. “Is there a point? I’m sure you heard the whole spiel multiple times already. You know it. And I know you. I know what you’re doing, I see your intentions. I don’t agree with your methods but I see the results. Will you stop?”

“No,” Jason said immediately. His methods were working, and they were working well. Bruce, his morals, and his codes could all go shove it.

Dick nodded, clearly expecting the response. “There you have it. I’m not bothering to start an argument that neither of us will win.”

Jason’s first responding thought was I would win. If I can continue my methods, I win by default.

But did he? If Dick wasn’t expecting to win in the first place, it wasn’t much of an argument.

“Well, ain’t you mature,” he teased, his voice just a bit shaky. “Growin’ out of those short-shorts, aren’t ya?”

Dick snorted. “Someone had to. Thank Tim for adding pants to the suit.”

Tim looked up at the mention of his name but looked back down when he wasn’t addressed again. Honestly, Jason had almost forgotten the kid was there. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

“But seriously,” Dick continued, leaning forward a bit. “I trust you, Jay, like I said before. I see who you’re killing. I see what you’re attempting. While I don’t agree, I won’t fight you on it. Best I can do is believe you’ll see the wrong in it yourself.”

“Good luck with that,” Jason replied, “I see no wrong in what I’m doing. B’s just a coward. I’m doing what he could never.”

He pointedly filed the fact that Dick continued to insist that he trusted Jason. Slightly naive trust, perhaps, but Jason couldn’t say it was misplaced. He had no intentions of hurting Dick, really.

Dick sighed. “We aren’t…”

“The justice system,” Jason finished, a bit exasperated. “We aren’t the jury or the law, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, you’re right. I’ve heard the spiel.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, “you have.”

“And I’m not gonna hear it again?”

“Not from me, no.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

The rest of the evening went relatively smoothly. Dick started idle chatter now and then as usual, sometimes turning to talk quietly to Tim. To his credit, Tim stayed quiet practically the entire time aside from when he was replying to Dick. Jason felt a pang of strange amusement at the fact that Dick hadn’t become any more bearable over the years. Still a chatterbox, still an annoyance to anyone in his general vicinity.

For the first time since he’d come back to Gotham, Jason felt strangely at ease. He shouldn’t, because these were technically still enemies. Technically. They were Batman’s allies, which automatically put them on the opposite side. The good side. The side that didn’t include him anymore.

But they weren’t Nightwing and Robin, right now. He wasn’t Red Hood right now. Batman wasn’t even in the equation.

In this place, between these books and shelves– he was Jason. Dick was just Dick, and Tim was just Tim.

No vigilantes in sight, just three brothers in a library.

If Dick was being honest, the whole thing went much better than he was expecting it to go. It’s not that he didn’t believe Tim’s account of what went down with Jason last week– but he was expecting a slightly more harsh reaction from his oldest younger brother.

Instead, Jason had just thrown out a complaint or two; but had otherwise had no direct issue with Tim’s presence. He supposed he owed part of that to Tim minding his own business, for once.

Tim also seemed much more at ease than he’d expected. He’d originally been kind of tense, but by the half hour mark he’d practically melted into his chair. Jason was similar. Despite the initial short outburst and tense conversation, he’d gotten absolved in his book quickly and shifted comfortably from time to time.

It was a strange sense of domesticity Dick didn’t expect, but certainly welcomed.

And perhaps Tim had been even more at ease than he’d realised because a few hours later Jason caught his attention with a quiet:

“Uh, Dickhead?”

Dick’s gaze lifted from where it was locked on his phone, expecting to meet Jay’s. Except he didn’t, because Jason was looking directly at Tim.

With a raised eyebrow Dick turned his head and was met with a rare sight– Tim had fallen asleep. Head gone limp on the headrest and tablet barely balanced in his lax grip, Tim looked strangely comfortable. Dick’s expression immediately softened and he huffed, a bit disbelieving.

At Jason’s head tilt, he explained: “Tim doesn’t usually just fall asleep. He’s very stubborn about staying awake, we’ve had to give him a sedative once or twice.”

“Huh,” Jason replied, eyebrows raising. “Well, he seems pretty out cold ‘ta me.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, that hint of genuine disbelief still present. “Unexpected, but if it lets him sleep…”

Jason hummed. “Sure, but the library’s closin’ soon. Maybe in like half?”

“An hour?” Dick asked and Jason grunted affirmative, slowly closing his book.

An idea came to Dick’s head just then. It was impulsive and possibly a bit stupid, but so were most of his decisions and yet he was still alive. Suggesting it had no direct consequences, really.

“Jay?” He asked, Jason looking up at him.

“What?”

He swallowed. “There’s a safehouse just down the road,” he said, a bit hesitant. Jason had narrowed his eyes but Dick continued. “How opposed are you to a sleepover?”

“Very,” Jason said immediately, looking at Dick like he’d grown an extra head. “You must be seriously outta your mind if you think I’m going anywhere near a bat safehouse.”

Dick bit his lip but waved a slightly dismissive hand anyway.

“I can disable the cameras, no problem,” he said but Jason just scowled deeper.

“Right, cause the old bat won’t find one of his safehouse cameras going offline suspicious at all,” he hissed, “not to mention that both his birdies won’t be home for the night. More than enough red flags, there, Dickface.”

Dick rolled his eyes. Not that they weren’t valid concerns, of course. They were all perfectly reasonable– if Dick wasn’t there and determined. He also bit back a rebuttal of you’re one of his birds too, Jay.

“B won’t pry as long as he knows we’re safe,” he claimed despite Jason’s growing disbelief and disdain. “If I tell him Tim just fell asleep near a safehouse and that I turned off the cameras to be petty he’ll be none the wiser.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. He’s the most paranoid guy I know, and I know myself.”

“Just trust me, Jay! Please? I’ll even take the fall if he does somehow catch us. You’ll be fine.”

Jason’s jaw visibly clenched as he glared at Dick.

“Who says I even wanna have a sleepover with you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got better shit to be doin’.”

“Maybe,” Dick conceded, “but I want you there. Let me be a good big brother, for once.”

Dick knew it was a low blow. Yes, he wanted to make it up to Jason for all the times he wasn’t the best as an older brother. Jason knew this. He’d been letting him appropriately. Dick appreciated it. But he would be having this sleepover, everything be damned.

Jason’s gaze turned to the side and Dick knew he’d won, somehow. He couldn’t help but smile lightly. Jay could threaten, kill or hurt as many people as he’d like– nothing could ever make his heart any smaller. Plucking at his heartstrings was terrifyingly easy, for better or for worse.

“Fine,” Jason hissed through his teeth, “but if Bruce finds out I was there I’m punching you in the face. And dislocating your fuckin’ kneecaps.”

Dick could only beam as he got up and moved in Tim’s direction to pick him up. “I’d expect no less.”

Jason groaned. “I’m already regretting this.”

The fact that Tim didn’t wake up when Dick picked him up was a miracle onto itself. If this was what the library did to his youngest brother then maybe they should start coming here together more often.

No more sedatives, he thought amusedly, just the library.

They made it to the safehouse without a hitch, Jason trailing behind Dick. Tim continued to be fast asleep in his arms, thankfully. Jason waited dutifully outside of camera range as Dick easily disabled them.

Once they were inside, Dick carefully placed Tim on the couch as Jason closed the door behind them. Dick smiled at him gratefully.

“Tea?” Jason asked and Dick straightened, slighly caught by surprise. Honestly, he was still partly shocked that Jay was actually there, having a sleepover with them.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, “thank you.”

Jason gave him one long and careful look before nodding and sliding into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Dick pulled out his phone and opened Bruce’s chat.

Dick (7:43pm): heads up, B

Dick (7:43pm): timmy fell asleep so i took him to the nearest safehouse

Dick (7:44pm): we’re having a mini sleepover :P

Dick (7:44pm): so don’t get grey hairs

His screen lit up with the notice that Bruce was typing barely a minute later. Of course.

B (7:46pm): Which safehouse?

B (7:46pm): Is Tim alright?

Dick rolled his eyes. He quickly walked over to Tim, taking a photo of the sleeping boy.

Dick (7:47pm): [image.png] he’s fine, just asleep. didn’t wanna wake him

Dick (7:47pm): and safehouse 14G

Dick (7:48pm): the one near the library :)

B (7:49pm): Why are the cameras turned off?

B (7:49pm): Using your hacking technique, no less.

Dick (7:50pm): cause i hacked them :P

B (7:50pm): Yes, that much I had figured.

B (7:51pm): And why did you hack them?

Dick (7:52pm): no batdads allowed at the birds-only sleepover ^-^

B (7:52pm): Dick…

Dick (7:52pm): cya tomorrow morning! ^o^

B (7:53pm): Just be safe.

Dick (7:53pm): will do!

Jason had at some point re-entered the room, and was now hovering near the couch with two steaming mugs in his hand. When Dick met his gaze he held one out and Dick took it happily.

He blew on it a few times before taking a careful sip, his eyes lighting up.

“Aw, you remember how I like my tea!” He chirped, glancing at Jay, who had taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch to where Tim was sleeping. “I knew you loved me.”

Jason raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Ya mean sickeningly sweet? I don’t know how your digestive system is still functioning.”

Dick shrugged, still smiling. “I’m an acrobat.”

“Not sure how that’s related.”

Dick rolled his eyes, taking his seat between his brothers. Tim was softly snoring next to him while Jason glanced at the phone still in his hand.

“Who were ya textin’?”

“B,” Dick answered easily as Jason scowled with a sip of his tea. “One photo of Tim and reassurances that we’re safe and boom. Nothing to be worried about.”

“Uh-huh,” Jason said, “so when he inevitably breaks down this door and tries to beat the shit out of me, you’ll protect me?”

Jay’s tone was practically dripping with sarcasm, but Dick still felt the need to answer.

“Yeah,” he said honestly, “he’d have no right to put his hands on you.”

“Yeah?” Jason said, a hint of surprise in his tone. His widened eyes didn’t do much to hide that, either. “I reckon he’d have some pretty solid grounds, actually.”

Dick shook his head. “No,” he said firmly, “not ever and certainly not with me here. He wouldn’t even have any grounds anyway, considering you’re in civvies.”

Jason wasn't even Red Hood, right now. This was just Jason.

“Also,” he added after a moment, ignoring Jason eyeing him critically. “You’re his son. Why would he even try?”

Jason shrugged, obviously a bit helpless. Dick sighed.

“Jay,” he said, garnering his brother’s attention. “B loves you. He loves all of us. In his own, fucked up, I-dress-as-an-overgrown-bat-at-night kind of way. But he does. You know this.”

Jason barked out a surprised laugh at the description but nodded nonetheless. Dick knew Jason knew that Bruce loved him. Loved them. On one hand, he couldn’t fathom why Jay didn’t want to see their father. Bruce was devastated by Jason’s death– he'd be overjoyed by his return. On the other, he very much got it. Bruce could be a bit much even on his best days and terrible on his worst. Not to mention, Jason had a lot of issues of his own to sort with him. Likely some that even Dick didn’t know about.

“Yeah. Thanks, by the way,” Jason said, and at Dick’s confused look added: “For not rattin’ me out. To Bruce.”

“Of course,” Dick replied easily, “no one’s going to rush you, Little Wing.”

Jason shot him a small smile and Dick took it as a huge win.

Jason wasn't sure how he got in this situation. Meeting Dick in the public library was one thing, but being in a bat safehouse, sitting next to two people he should definitely not be sitting next to was kind of toeing the line of safety.

It’d been almost an hour and Jason still hadn't figured out how he'd been convinced to accept this kind of offer.

Except, he knew exactly how. For all the months he'd been telling himself that no, he didn't care about Dick. He didn't want anything to do with the guy anymore, he couldn't face him again. Yet, he had folded pathetically easily as soon as Dick showed his ‘big brother’ card.

Because, damn it, for all intents and purposes– Dick was his big brother. There was a comically large, traitorous part of Jason that wanted nothing more than to bury himself in Dick’s arms. Arms that had always brought him a sense of pathetic security and safety. The arms of his older brother.

Jason might've been physically bigger than Dick, now– and wasn't that weird– but Dick could never be anything but big brother to him.

And for how foul his play to get Jason here was, Dick was trying, for fuck’s sake, and Jason could see it.

He hated that he could see it.

Yet there was something…

“Say,” Jason said and Dick looked up from where he was staring at the liquid in his cup. He smiled encouragingly and Jason could only swallow. He took a deep breath. Just rip it off. Like a bandaid.

“Why weren’t you at my funeral?”

The air in the room suddenly grew infinitely colder.

Dick’s eyes clouded over with something, and Jason would be kidding no one but himself if he said he didn’t recognise at least a part of that gaze as guilt mixed with anger. After a few long, excruciating moments, Dick sighed deeply.

“You know I was off-world when you died, right?” He said, glaring at his cup. Jason nodded, then realised Dick wasn’t looking at him.

“Yeah,” he answered verbally, voice rough. Dick had been off-world on a Titans mission when Jason died. Despite begging for Dick to come save him back in that warehouse, he never blamed Dick for not being there. It wasn’t his fault.

“B, um,” Dick choked out, obviously holding back tears. However, his tone screamed angry. Not sad or anything of that sort. The way he gripped his mug tighter only confirmed this. He took a shaky breath, blinking a few times. “I didn’t know you died until a solid week or two after the funeral.”

And if that didn’t make Jason’s world fucking spin. His grip on his own mug loosened from pure shock and he almost dropped the cup. What. What?

He wanted to scream. His mind urged him to scream until his throat was raw. To get answers. To demand why he hadn’t had a clue. To interrogate Dick until he spilled.

But… he already knew, didn’t he?

His eyes narrowed as Dick’s face melted into a sorrowful smile.

“Bruce, uh,” Dick spilt, “I don’t know why. He refrained from telling me about it while I was on the mission. I don’t even remember if he ever did tell me. I might have just found out when I got back. That part of my life is blurry. I don’t like remembering it.”

Rage boiled under Jason’s skin all over again. All this time, he thought that Dick just hadn’t bothered to come to his funeral, that he had other issues. That there were truly things more important than Jason’s measly funeral.

He should have known it was all on Bruce. Who had he ever tried to kid? Even if he and Dick didn’t get along as children, Dick would never. There were a lot of things Jason was unsure of when it came to his older brother, but it was his older brother.

He hadn’t realised just how tightly he started holding his cup until Dick’s cold touch upon his knuckles brought him back to the present. He blinked a few times, taking in the concern on Dick’s face.

“Of fucking course he didn’t tell you,” Jason spit, perhaps with a bit more force than he intended. Dick wasn’t the one he was mad at, after all. “Should’ve fucking expected this. Fuck.”

“Don’t… don’t entirely blame B,” Dick said, croaky and hesitant as he pulled away from Jason’s space again. Jason was about to protest, but Dick kept speaking. “He was grieving, Jay. We all were. Sure, I’m pissed at him for not telling me, but…”

He sighed. “You know how Bruce is. Why would he devastate me with those news while I was on a mission?”

Jason heard the unspoken elements of that sentence. Why would he willingly sabotage a mission? Even if it was about Dick’s younger brother’s literal death.

“I was to blame too,” Dick said, huffing a sad laugh, “if I hadn’t been off-world for so long in the first place…”

“Fuck that,” Jason shut down immediately, Dick turning to him with widened blue eyes. “It was not your fault that you were off-world. Get that shit outta your head or I’ll smack it out.”

Dick managed a surprised snicker. “Okay, Jay. I get it. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, shithead,” Jason immediately retorted, “‘s just a fact.”

Dick’s expression turned more sad once again and Jason would do anything to wipe it off his face. Fuck’s sake, Dick. Why are you so caring?

“I’m sorry,” Dick said and Jason almost punched him then and there. What the hell was this bastard apologising for? As if reading his mind, Dick continued: “For not being there. At your funeral. Even if it wasn’t… my fault. I would’ve been there a million times over, if I could.”

“I know,” Jason found himself saying. Dick pursed his lips and Jason could’ve sworn he saw those eyes grow bluer with tears. “I know, Dick. Don’t sweat it. I was just curious.”

Dick shook his head with a rueful smile. “You’re allowed to be upset Jaybird. Whatever I may say, I wasn’t there. And you’re allowed to be mad at me, for that.”

Jason wasn’t sure what Dick wasn’t understanding. Jason was upset at first, sure, because he was under the impression that Dick didn’t care enough to come to his funeral. But now? The only person left to be upset at in this situation was Bruce.

“I’m not,” Jason insisted, taking a sip of his tea. “Deal with it, Dickhead. I’m pissed at ya for a lot of things, but this ain’t one of ‘em. Can it.”

Dick huffed. “Alright, Jason. Okay.”

Definitely not okay, Jason knew. Dick would continue blaming himself for at least another eternity. He wasn’t exactly fooling anyone. But Jason couldn’t do anything about that, at least not now. Stupid martyr complex Robin default setting.

“Wait,” Dick says after a moment, eyebrows furrowing. “How did you know I wasn’t at your funeral?”

Jason shrugged. “Someone told me,” he explained, “probably ‘ta piss me off. And it worked, for a little bit. S’fine.”

It had been Talia who told him that. Talia told him a lot of things, her intentions as unknown as ever. From the Joker still being alive, to Tim Drake being the new Robin, to Dick not attending his funeral. She’d given all this to him in a neat little folder and left him to ponder his thoughts.

Dick didn’t seem completely satisfied with this answer but didn’t push. Jason should be grateful, but knowing Dick, he’d just bother Jason about it some time in the near future or wait until Jason spills the beans himself.

Jason only shrugged again in response to Dick’s staring before his brother finally looked away.

He and Dick sat in a comfortable silence for the following minutes, both sipping at their tea and occasionally making eye contact. Dick smiled at him a few times and Jason would be lying if his lip didn’t quirk up slightly in return.

The silence was eventually broken by Tim shifting and muttering some unintelligible babblings in his sleep. Dick and Jason had both barked surprised laughs at it, and Jason couldn’t deny the terribly pleasant feeling of home he got from the moment.

He shouldn’t, of course. He shouldn’t have even been there in the first place. Tim wasn’t even really his brother, right? And Dick was an enemy. An enemy that would need to be eliminated or taken off the board for his plan to work, sooner or later. But… was he really an enemy? Was Tim really just his replacement?

His eyes hovered over the sleeping teenager. Teenager.

Tim was seventeen. And if Jason’s calculations were correct, he was fourteen when he was made Robin.

Not all that different from you, his mind screamed at him. You’re more similar than you think.

Jason sighed loudly, throwing his head back and hitting the headrest. He pointedly ignored the questioning look Dick sent his way. After a few more minutes of silence, Dick got up.

“Well,” he said, reaching a hand out towards Jason and glancing at the empty cup in his hand. “I’ll put these in the sink and start making something to eat.”

Jason raised an eyebrow but gave Dick his cup almost instinctively. The expression and move screamed Alfred so loud that Jason got whiplash. His verbal response also felt automatic.

“I can do it, if you want,” he offered, half-scowling when he realised the familiarity of this conversation. By the wide smile making itself at home on Dick’s face, he noticed it too. However, upon closer inspection, Jason realised Dick wasn’t looking at him.

“No need,” Dick said, amused. Jason curiously followed his gaze to next to him, where– oh. Tim was still fast asleep but was now at least halfway sprawled out on Jason’s arm. How had Jason not noticed?

He tried to move his arm slightly and his question was immediately answered. Tim was extremely light. Concerningly light. No wonder Jason hadn’t noticed the extra weight on his side. He heard Dick huff.

“I don’t think you’re moving any time soon,” he said and Jason snorted.

“I could,” he replied, moving his arm around again. He could easily just pick Tim up with a single arm. “He’s not exactly heavy. Ya not feedin’ him enough or something?”

Dick shrugged, a bit helpless. “Alfred makes him eat, but he often forgets to eat anything himself. We’re working on it.” Jason hummed in a pensive reply.

“Anyways, you can’t move, Jay,” Dick said, starting to step out of the room and towards the kitchen. “Cat lap rules.”

“Huh?” Jason squawked, a bit indignant. “Ain’t that the one about not moving if a cat is asleep on your lap? The kid ain’t a cat and he’s not on my lap.”

“Eh,” Dick replied, making a ‘so-so’ gesture with his hand. “Whatever the case, you’re not moving and waking baby bird up.” He shot Jason one last glare to emphasise the point before sliding out of the room, leaving Jason alone with a sleeping teenager on his arm.

“What a dick,” Jason hissed to himself. “Leaving me on babysitting duty, honestly.”

To his immediate surprise, the sleeping bundle of Tim buzzed with a reply.

“Not babysittin’,” it slurred, “‘m not a kid.”

Jason blinked past his minute surprise and snorted. “Whatever ya say, kiddo. How long have you been awake?”

Tim moved away from him slowly and sleepily smacked his arm. Jason held back another snort. “You’re only two years older than me,” Tim complained, “and since just before Dick left. Not that long.”

Jason hummed. “Two years is still two years, Timmers. Don’t knock it ‘til ya try it.”

Tim made a confused noise as he rubbed as his eyes. “Huh? Try what? Aging?”

“Sure,” Jason said, “if that’s what you got from that.”

“You’re strange.” Tim scoffed, shame nowhere in sight. It seemed like such a drastic change from the scared kid Jason met a few days prior, but when he thought about it, it wasn’t really. Tim was snarky from the very start, when he wasn’t borderline shaking like a leaf.

“Watch it,” Jason growled and Tim jerked back a bit, clearly more awake now. “You gotta learn to watch your mouth, birdie.”

“Sorry,” Tim said, not sounding sorry at all. The sleepiness was rapidly seeping out of his voice as he shook his head. He blinked at Jason a few times before his face contorted into more of a frown and he tensed. “Wait. Where are we? Why was I sleeping on you?!”

“Why do you seem so offended by that? Ya were the one usin’ me as a pillow. I didn’t sign up for it,” Jason answered, a bit taken aback by the kid’s slow reaction time. Then again, they weren’t in the field, so he supposed he couldn’t blame Tim too much. “And we’re in one of the safehouses. Next ‘ta the library.”

“Oh,” Tim said eloquently and his shoulders dropped their tension. “Why?”

Jason groaned. “Take a wild guess, Tim. Shoot.”

Tim sighed. “Dick.”

“Hook, line and sinker. Maybe you’re not incapable after all.”

Tim just groaned as well, seemingly ignoring the jab. “Why are you here though?” He asked after a moment, eyeing Jason semi-critically. Jason shot him a confused look in return.

“I just told you, Dickiebird dragged me here,” he said, like Tim was an idiot. He should know as well as Jason that once Dick’s mind is set on something, there’s no changing it. Especially not if it came to family matters. Stubbornness was a common theme in that family.

“No, I got that part,” Tim snapped back at him, matching his tone as if Jason was the idiot. Jason held back a surprised snicker as more similar than you think ran through his head again. What a little shit.

“I’m wondering why you’re still here. I would’ve expected you to bolt the moment Dick turned his gaze away.”

Jason barked out a loud laugh. “First of all, bold of you to assume Dick fully turned away from me even once,” he said and watched Tim theatrically sigh. Nevertheless, he barrelled on. “Second, contrary to what you or the old man may think, I actually don’t have it in my cold, dead heart to hate Dick. If anything, you should be grovelling at his feet for keeping your ass safe from me.”

He was going to make a third point, about how he couldn’t have left anyway since Dick would hunt him down as soon as he heard the door– but Tim cut him off.

“B nor Dick think that,” he said and Jason’s eyes narrowed. Tim pursed his lip in thought before continuing. “In fact, everything I ever heard about you was told like legends. ‘Heart of gold and deeds of a soldier’ and all that.”

 And if that didn’t make Jason want to scream. He was not a story, not a legend. Not some cautionary tale. Right now was debatable, but he had been a person, damn it. A kid. A Robin.

Tim was watching him carefully, swallowing a few times as Jason’s thoughts hit him all at once like a truck on fucking fire. His fists clenched and unlenched repeatedly as he tried to organise them. He couldn’t snap at the kid, not now. But he needed to know more.

“Go on,” he hissed and Tim bit on his lip, unsure. Jason growled. “Go on. What else have our dear brother and father told you about good ol’ Jason Todd?”

He spit his own name out like venom, Tim reeling back with the sheer forcefulness of it. Nevertheless, he obliged with Jason’s request. His eyebrows pinched together as he started speaking, gaze pointedly landing everywhere except Jason.

“They love you. They respect you. They use your name like some kind of pedestal, something that could never be touched by the likes of them,” Tim said and Jason held back a scoff. “They speak of you with nothing less than pride. Everything from a good soldier, to an amazing son, to a worthy Robin.”

Tim’s explanation fell into a quieter note, his voice on the border of cracking. Jason swallowed, hard. An amazing son. A worthy Robin. Hilarious.

“But uh, you were also an example,” Tim ground out, starting to wring his hands. Jason took a sharp intake of breath and leaned a bit further back as a laugh bubbled out of the younger boy. “Did you know B trained me in every way possible just so I wouldn’t end up like you?”

Someone might as well have slapped Jason across the face.

“Wouldn’t end up like me, huh?” He said, incredulous. Tim’s hysterics calmed down and melted into more of a guilty scowl. Jason huffed a bittersweet laugh of his own. “No, no. Continue. What do you mean by that?”

“Even after he took me in, B kept me off the field for months,” Tim admitted, eyes flashing with an emotion Jason couldn’t quite pinpoint. “He trained me day and night so that I wouldn’t die on the field. You were like vague example of what… not to do.” Tim cringed as he added the last part, like it hurt to say.

He squeezed his eyes closed and kept talking, quickly. It reminded Jason of a bandaid being ripped off.

“Listen to orders, Tim,” he said, imitating Bruce. If the moment was less serious, Jason might have laughed. “Don’t be careless, Tim. Don’t go off on your own, Tim. Always have backup, Tim.” He huffed. “You were never mentioned by name, but I heard it. I saw it in Bruce’s eyes whenever he talked to me. Whenever he looked at that case.”

“Case?” Jason echoed. What case?

Tim froze like a deer in headlights. “You… haven’t been to the Cave.”

Jason stared at him blankly. “No shit, Replacement,” he sneered, “didn’t exactly have the time ‘ta pop in. My bad.”

“No that’s not–” Tim said before cutting himself off with a sharp inhale. “There’s a memorial for you. In the cave. It’s a case with your Robin suit in it.”

Jason didn’t even have time to process that before there was another sharp intake of breath– but not from Tim. Jason tensed as Tim’s gaze wandered to behind him, where Dick was definitely standing.

“Tim. You’re awake,” is all Dick said, Jason tensing even further at the distinct effort his brother made to avoid his voice cracking.

“Uh,” Tim said, eyes darting frantically between Jason and Dick. “Yeah. Hi.”

Dick took a few steps forward and sat down on the couch. Jason wanted to hate how Tim instinctively scooted a centimetre closer to him, but he couldn’t really blame him. Dick was acting scarily calm for how tense he seemed.

Neither Jason or Tim could do anything but blink at their brother owlishly.

“A reminder to never fail again,” Dick said, clearly quoting Bruce with the tone. “That’s what he told me when I demanded to know what the memorial was. I was furious with him, at the time. That wasn’t what a memorial was supposed to be for. But we were both grieving, and when was B ever any good with grief?”

He ran a frantic hand through his hair as he looked at Tim, then at Jason. “He had good intentions with it. But it is a bit…”

“Depressing,” Tim finished. Dick blinked at him.

“I was going to say daunting, but that works, too.”

Jason snorted. “Good to know I’m daunting even from beyond the grave.”

Dick’s gaze sharpened as it turned on him. “Not you. Never you.”

“Right,” Jason said, throat tightening. He forcefully cleared it. “So the old man just keeps the ol’ traffic pants in a case, huh? Tears and soot included an’ all?”

Dick frowned and stayed silent, but Tim answered quickly.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Ripped and tarnished. I guess a reminder makes sense…” He mumbled the last part mostly to himself, but due to the silence of the room the other occupants heard it anyway.

It was a lot to process, for Jason. Knowledge that Bruce did remember and honour him– but not him. Bruce missed and needed reminders of Robin. Jason was to Bruce nothing more than a worthy Robin. His memorial was his tarnished Robin suit. His deeds and mistakes as Robin were used as examples.

So where did Jason fit into all of this? Where did the scruffy street kid who tried to jack some tires fall into the equation? Where did his scrawny and stubborn attitude insert itself into this tragedy? Where did the so-called by the media charity case find itself?

But then again. He looked up at Dick and his careful, sorrowful smile. He glanced down at Tim, with his fidgeting hands and sassy demeanour.

Where did any of them find themselves, outside of being Robin?

And curse Dick for being so good at reading him because he immediately smiled wider.

“You can come see us anytime you want, Jay,” he said, absolutely no hesitation in his voice. “Bruce will not see you if you don’t want him to. He may be the best detective in the world, but there’s three of us. All trained by him.”

Jason swallowed. There’s three of us. Us.

He wanted to spit there is no ‘us’. It would be so easy to shatter Dick’s mood then and there.

“Or,” Dick continued, interrupting that entire train of thought, “we could visit you.”

Jason’s warm mood soured immediately. “I’m not telling you where I live, Dickface.”

Dick’s smile lowered very slightly. “I was more referring to the library,” he amended, then reached to ruffle Jason’s hair. Jason attempted to lean out of the way, but his position half-under Tim and in front of the armrest did not help. His hair got ruffled. “But we’ll get to your home eventually.”

Jason glared at him. “Keep dreaming.”

Dick smirked back. “I will.”

“Dickhead.”

“Little Wing.”

“Bitch.”

“Baby brother.”

“Idi– baby what?!”

Dick laughed. “You’re my baby brothers. Both of you.”

Tim groaned and attempted to hide behind Jason’s arm. God, how touch-starved was this kid?

“I understand Tim,” Jason said, ignoring Tim’s squawked protest, “but me? I’m a legal adult.”

Dick hummed. “Sure. Big and mighty nineteen-year-old,” he said, amused. “You and Tim are not that far apart in age at all. You’re both my baby brothers and that’s final.”

“Good for you, you’re old,” Tim said from where his face was buried in Jason’s forearm. Jason barked out a laugh at the way Dick’s eyes widened comically.

“Nevermind, I like this kid,” he said between laughed breaths as Dick started babbling protests (“I’m twenty-five. Twenty-five!”). He felt Tim smile into his arm.

“I’m glad you’re getting along,” Dick muttered with a pout, “but does it have to be at my expense?”

“‘Course,” Jason replied, smug. “Younger sibling privileges.”

 Jason realised his mistake the moment Dick grinned at him with the proudest and most obnoxious smile he’d ever seen.

“Younger sibling you say?” He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards Jason. “Middle child.”

He leaned even farther forward and Jason swore he heard Tim mutter, “oh no.”

Jason had no time to react to it before Dick threw himself at them, wrapping both of them in a tight hug. Tim squeaked as Jason groaned.

“This means nothing, Dickface.”

“Sure, Jay. Sure.”

He did not sound convinced in the slightest.