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Dick stared at the ingredients that commandeered his kitchen table for a moment, feeling more than a little overwhelmed, before he looked back at the recipe again. He owed Jason for the other day with Damian, and his younger brother, the little shit, had handed him this recipe card and told him to make it for him, whenever. And that whenever just so happen to be today.
Jason wanted him to make mac and cheese, and not one of those easy to make ones made from a box like Kraft's mac and cheese. No, he wanted this specific one with different cheese ratios and breadcrumbs on top. There was a bag of panko breadcrumbs that Jason insisted he use for this recipe, instead of 'normal' breadcrumbs
So here he was on a Thursday night, with four different kinds of cheese, a carton of full fat milk, nutmeg, flour, butter, pasta and more. He had almost grabbed the big shelled pasta but he personally hated those, so grabbed the medium sized macaroni elbow ones instead. If he was going to make this recipe, he was at least gonna pick things he liked too.
The recipe was easy enough to follow, thankfully. He was sure to pay Lucky the cheese tax, and had to fry the breadcrumbs twice because he accidentally burnt the first batch by looking away for just one second. No, he was not distracted while throwing little slices of cheese for Lucky to catch mid-air. Shut up.
After the burnt breadcrumbs were discarded and a new batch was nicely toasted, Dick made sure to put all his focus on following the recipe. The serving size was enough for four people, so it was good enough for the both of them.
He was finished melting the cheeses and had dumped the already cooked medium sized pasta into the sauce when his apartment door slammed opened with a loud bang. Dick rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, as if he didn't hear the jangle of keys before the slam. He had given Jason a key that night he saw Dick's seizure attack, just in case anything happened again. He was one step away from listing Jason as his primary person of contact in case of a medical emergency, but that wasn't actually needed since Alfred had it covered. It used to be Bruce but after everything, Dick couldn't leave that be.
The last time Bruce was in charge of him after a medical issue, he was forced to leave everyone he loved and was left abandoned in enemy territory with no allies.
Mr. Malone... Can I come home? Please?
"Yo, Dickface! Smells good in here!"
He laughed, shaking his head, "Yeah. I can't believe that. The different cheeses themselves were funky smelling! How could they make something together that smell this good?"
Jason put down a small paper bag on the coffee table, where they'd be eating dinner actually. He flopped down on the couch, patting his knee which had Lucky happily bounding over, laying his head on his brother's knee. The younger man ruffled the dog's soft ears with glee. There was a steady rhythm of hard thumps against the coffee table's sturdy legs.
"That's the magic of cooking! Something we both can appreciate at least," he shuddered jokingly. They both knew how horrible Tim and Cass were in the kitchen, but they at least had some inkling of hope to improve, unlike Bruce. He had a life time ban for a reason.
Dick took out two big bowls and cutlery from the cupboard, and he got Jason to leave Lucky to come over to grab them. The dog looked a little upset at the loss of attention, but he went to his dog bed in the corner to work on his meaty bone.
It was quick work to set up dinner at the coffee table, and soon both brothers had a bowl of hot mac and cheese with fancy breadcrumbs on top.
"Man, I'm glad it worked out this well," Jason laughed, clearly enjoying the dish.
Dick shoved his shoulder, "You ass. The recipe was simple enough!"
"Well, yeah, that's one of the reasons I made you make it. The other was so that I didn't have to go out looking at all those different cheeses," he made a face, offended and disgusted at the idea of browsing the cheese section, of all things.
Dick laughed loudly, shoving Jason again because what kind of reasoning was that? Honestly! But his younger brother barely moved at his pushing which prompted Dick to groan, "it's impossible to move you."
"O'course, I'm all muscle, baby," he smirked, even flexing his free arm to show off his guns.
"No, it's cause you're so fat!"
There was a loud offended gasp, "You take that back! If anyone here is fucking fat, it's you!"
Their bowls were thankfully already on the table when they wrestled on the couch, elbows banging loudly on the coffee table or on the wooden floors. There was cussing and more grappling and flailing limbs before Dick managed to wedge Jason underneath him, Jay's arms crossed infront of his chest.
"Yield, Jaybird."
"No, never!" He wiggled to no success.
"Come on Jay, take it back and I won't lick your nose."
His eyes widened, "You wouldn't dare!"
Dick's answer was to lean forward and focus very deliberately and very intensely on Jason's nose. The younger man tried to buck up from underneath but Dick held firm. He was drawing closer and Jason-
"Okay, fine! Yeesh, I yield!" He couldn't risk it. No way was he going to have Dickface's spit on his face, much less his nose! Disgusting! "Now getoff!"
His older brother cackled, rolling off of him and Jason breathed a sigh of relief. He pushed himself off the floor, watching as Dick cleared up their bowls and the leftover mac and cheese.
Jason noted that Dick looked a little better, less harried and pale compared to the last time they'd seen each other. The dog was chilling out on his pillow, tail wagging sedately. It was a enough nice night. Kind of like before Dick's fake death. Sure, Bruce was 'dead' at the time, but their bond as brothers had flourished in his absence. Speaking of...
"How're things between you and Timberly?" Jason couldn't help but ask.
And the carefree moment was gone. There was a clatter of dishes in the sink and Dick had stiffened up.
"I still haven't seen him. And he doesn't respond to my texts."
"Oh, right. He's still upset with all that," he waved his hand, dismissively.
"All that?"
"You know," Jason tried not to grow angry, but it was hard, "you faking your death and letting us believe you were dead the whole time?"
Dick came back to the living room, a bottle of beer - the brand he liked, nice - was passed to Jason while the man himself had a simple soda pop. Right, no more alcohol for Dickie boy because of his meds.
"I don't know what to say anymore. He won't even let me explain."
"What is there to explain? You did what you did." It was so much more. A Robin just didn't do that to another Robin.
Dick sighed even harder, leaning back on the couch in defeat. Jason took a pull from his beer, savouring the taste on his tongue.
"That's the thing. I didn't actually fake my death. I did die, even if it was just for a few minutes."
Jason snapped to look at Dick, his eyes wide and his stomach heavy. Excuse me?
"What the fuck, Dickie? You actually died died?"
There was a small flash of a sardonic smile before his older brother shrugged his shoulders, looking so much older than his twenty-seven years. He looked tired, and small, so unlike his usual self. "Heart stopped and everything for 3 minutes. There was a chance that I'd stay dead but better just me than everyone else I guess."
"Where was Batman in all this?"
"Right there, watching."
"Fuck."
"Yeah... and it's not like I wanted to stay dead but by the time I woke up, I'd missed the funeral and Bruce decided I had to go on an undercover mission."
"But why not tell us?" Jason was absolutely shocked, eyes wide and face pale as he tried to process everything.
"I don't know, to sell the lie better? You know how paranoid he can be and he thought enemies would be watching and he needed to make sure the grief looked real... it's just horrible that he decided that it needed to feel real for it to look the part too," Dick said, eyes far away and his finger was tapping the half empty can.
Jason couldn't believe his ears but a part of him could believe it. He could see how this plan came to be but, what the fuck? How could Bruce do that to his own family?
"You should tell Tim," Jason said suddenly. He couldn't be the only one to know this. "You should tell the whole family, Dick."
But Dick was already shaking his head, his eyes focused back on Jason. "It's fine, no one else needs to know."
"So why tell me?" Jason asked, his throat dry.
There was a pause, Dick watched him for a moment. "Because you're the only brother I can trust with this. I'm already... sick and you're the only one in our family that knows that. I want you to know that I do trust you, even with this."
"And also because I hate Bruce?"
"Do you really?"
Jason scowled at him and Dick gave a small and brief smile.
"The others can't know because then it'll ruin their relationship with B, and I can't do that. I don't want to be the reason that our family falls apart because I died for only 3 minutes."
"Holy fuck, Dick, that's not a good enough reason."
"It is for me. Now, just drop it."
"Come on, Dick, seriously? You really did die and that makes all the difference."
"Please."
Dick was back to fiddling with his soda pop and Jason didn't like this one bit. "Alright fine, but know that I'm not happy about all this. This big thing and your seizures. At least tell them the second thing."
"Hmm, maybe later."
Jason huffed, sitting down beside Dick on the couch, knocking his knee against the other man's thigh. "Sure, later you say. Call me for anything, Big bird."
"Yes, Jason." Dick agreed easily. The shit.
"Make sure I'm your number one on speed dial."
"You already are."
"Doesn't matter if it's as Nightwing or Dick Grayson or Richie Wayne, I'll pick up."
"Of course, Jay."
"Any time of day."
Dick shoved an elbow into his side, grinning. "I know, Little Wing. Thank you."