Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1. The Coffee

Jason was patient. He could play the long game, even if it took months, the end result was going to be worth the wait. Soon enough, the new little Robin would be tucking tail and running for the hills, leaving Batman completely Robinless.

Like he should've been after the previous one’s death. After Jason’s death.

There was a plan, of course, a really good plan. A plan that called upon Jason’s best acting skills. That, speaking of which…

From the kitchen table, Jason waved cheerfully at Alfred as he passed.

He hated lying to Alfred, but it wasn’t like he could tell him the truth about what he was up to. So, once the butler was out of sight and earshot, Jason darted up. In a flash, the remaining coffee in the pot was poured down the drain, and Jason was sitting innocently back in his seat.

It was only a matter of time now. 

And, like clockwork, not five minutes later, the Replacement came stumbling into the kitchen. He yawned, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

Jason smiled at him, his true intention hidden behind a mask.

“Morning, Timbo!” he called out.

Replacement barely acknowledged him, mumbling incoherently in response as he made his way towards the coffee pot. It took him a second, staring at the pot like he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing, before he realized there was no coffee left for him.

“Sorry about that kid, looks like we're out.” Smirking, Jason breathed in Replacement's frustration at his conundrum.

That’s right, Replacement, that’s right. They’re starting to forget about you now that I’m here. No coffee left for-

“Oh, well, that’s fine. I’ll just have to brew some more, I suppose.”

Jason’s inner monologue was interrupted when his Replacement opened the cabinet above his head. Sighing, he pulled out a new bag of coffee grounds and started making his own pot.

Biting his cheeks to keep from scowling, Jason forced himself to stay focused. He couldn’t believe this revelation. Okay, so he knew it wasn’t that hard to do, but Replacement was a pampered little brat! What business did he have knowing how to make his own coffee, huh? 

Mentally shaking himself, Jason decided to move on. He would just have to make some adjustments to his plan, that was all.

I’m not done yet, Replacement. Just you wait.

The next morning, after Alfred was gone, Jason started again. 

The coffee pot was emptied in the sink and this time, now knowing what he knew, Jason changed the place of the coffee bag to the highest shelf he could reach.

He chuckled to himself as he sat back down.

Ha! There’s no way in hell Replacement can get to the coffee this time.

As though only a simple thought could summon him, the Replacement shuffled into the kitchen, dark bags under his eyes.

“Morning, Timbit!” Jason greeted, mockingly chipper.

“Hey, Jay,”  Replacement yawned back.

He stared at the empty pot as he spoke, tilting his head in confusion. Blinking a couple times, he opened the cabinet, slowly lifting his chin upwards. Once his eyes found the bag of coffee, Replacement frowned.

Oh dear, Replacement! Jason monologued sarcastically. Whatever will you do now?

What Replacement actually did almost gave Jason a heart attack, when out of seemingly nowhere, he started climbing the counter. In fuzzy socks.

Considering getting the kid hurt on his watch was NOT part of his plan, Jason found himself running to grab him before he could slip and crack his head open.

“Dude, no!” Jason scolded him, putting him down safely on the ground. “Here, let me get that for you,” he managed to say without grinding his teeth.

I’m not done yet…

Reaching up for the bag, as Jason brought it down he ‘accidentally’ let it slip from his grip and coffee grounds spilled onto the floor, some of it raining all over Replacement too.

“Aw, shit, sorry about that, Timmy,” he apologized.

He watched with anticipation for the brat to throw a fit. He waited long. He waited hard. But after staring at the mess, Replacement patted his shoulder.

“That’s okay, Jason. I’m gonna go get a broom,” he said.

A broom?  A cleaning broom? Abort! Alfred is gonna kill me if I let him make a bigger mess.

“Man, I’m really sorry about that, kid. How about I help you?”

Jason couldn’t stop his right eye from twitching, when his obviously moronic Replacement wrapped his arms around his middle in a light hug.

“Thanks, Jay, you’re the best!”

Okay, so he knew better now. His plan would need some more tweaking, but everything was fine.

Don’t think you’ve won, Replacement. I’m not done yet.

Finally, Jason’s move was going to go flawlessly. He’d adapted from his previous mistakes and this time he was sure nothing could possibly go wrong.

The exact moment Alfred was out of the kitchen, he got to finding the perfect hiding stop for the coffee. Once he was sure there was no possible way Replacement could find it, Jason went to pour out the liquid in the pot.

“Master Jason… What are you doing?”

Oh. Fuuuuuuuck.

Jason was standing incriminatingly over the sink, the coffee still spilling out the pot and down the drain. 

Alfred gave him an unimpressed look. His eyebrows were raised as he studied him.

Slowly, Jason put the pot back down on the sink, his brain short circuiting, trying to find the right excuse.

“I was- Well, you see- What happened was- I, uh- I,” Jason spluttered hopelessly.

Right at that moment, the Replacement walked into the room. Jason heard him before he saw him.

“Good morning everybody! Wonderful weather we’re having, am I right?”

Jason flipped around, completely unprepared for how he should react when caught in the act… Only to find Timothy Fucking Drake sipping ice-coffee through a colorful straw, out of a giant plastic cup. He glanced between Jason and Alfred with enthusiastic blue eyes, fueled heavily by caffeine.

“What?” Replacement had the nerve to ask. Noticing where they were both staring, he looked at his cup. “Oh, this? Yeah, I woke up early this morning, and I thought to myself: I’m in the mood for Dunkin' Donuts today! So I headed down there for some good old ice-coffee.”

“But- But-” Jason opened and closed his mouth, incredulous. “But how did you get there?”

“What do you mean?” Replacement blinked, puzzled. “I took my bike.” Walking past him, he patted Jason’s chest. “You know how to ride a bike? We should go together sometime, if you want.”

Slurping the last of his coffee, Jason’s obnoxiously oblivious Replacement went to the sink to wash out his cup. Then headed back for the door, waving on his way out.

“I’m gonna go recycle this. See you later!”

Glaring after him, Jason almost missed the sound of Alfred clearing his throat.

“Master Jason, I am still awaiting your explanation.”

Fine. You’ve inadvertently won this round, Replacement. But I’ve still got plenty of moves left to make on the board. I’m still in the game and you’re going down!

“...You see, Alfie, what happened was, I thought I saw this fly, right? So, it was flying around and…”

Jason was patient. Very patient.

Soon enough, he’d be pushing that stupid pretender out of the nest. Bruce and Dick, and even Alfred, would be none the wiser about what really caused their baby birdie to fly the coop. 

Chapter Text

2. The Homework

Curled up on his favorite couch in the library, Jason waited for his prey to make his appearance. 

Operation ‘Make Replacement Feel Like He’s Being Pushed Out’ might have started off on the wrong foot, but Jason was going to make amends for that. For this step, there was no way Robin could escape him. It was fool proof. Literally. 

Some seconds off cue, his Replacement entered the library, carrying his backpack, stuffed with textbooks, notebooks and worksheets. He sat down heavily on the sofa opposite Jason, setting his things down to get a start on his homework. 

The moment he saw Replacement’s face twitch into a frown, Jason shot up from his couch to lean over his shoulder. A sheet of math problems stared right back at him. 

“Oh man, semester finals coming up soon, huh? Doing some extra studying?” He asked, masking his true intentions flawlessly with synthetic empathy. Jason ruffled his hair. “I hated Algebra when I was in 8th grade.”

Slowly, Replacement looked up at him in awe. “You did? Really?”

“Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe, but I’ve always been more of a humanities kinda guy,” Jason nodded solemnly. “Hey,” he added, matter of factly, “how about I help you?”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Tim opened his eyes wide, looking like a little baby bird. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

And for an actual minute there, Jason almost felt really bad for what he was about to do, but he wasn’t going to go around having regrets now.

“You’re not a bother.” Jason smiled at him, ruffling his hair a second time. “I swear, by the time I’m done with you, Bruce will have something to say about your grades.”

Yeah, something to say with his angry voice. Like: ‘Clearly you’re spending too much time as Robin, your grades are slipping.’ If he’s like every other Robin before him, it’s gonna drive to crazy decision making.

Replacement gave in a sort of unsure smile in return. “Wow, this is so nice of you Jason. Thanks!”

“Yeah, no problem kid. So, what you do here is…”

Jason went on to miss-explain fractions, percentages and how to plot graphs. Then came a long string of completely inaccurate history facts, followed with promises to help with Physics and English tomorrow. Jason was honestly a little surprised how early kids were learning some of these subject materials, but then again, it had been a while since he’d been in school anyway. 

“Thanks for all your help today, Jason,” Ti- Replacement said, wrapping him in a hug. 

“Sure thing, Re- Tim ,” Jason caught himself quickly. “We should head down to eat dinner now, right? I can’t wait for Alfred’s chicken, can you?”

Replacement blinked. And Jason was almost convinced that he knew , until Replacement broke out into an even brighter grin.

“Oh yeah, I really love Alfred’s chicken. It’s never dry, and I’ve got no idea how he does it. Like, even the breast is so perfectly moist and salted.”

“I know! He’s like a food magician!”

Jason breathed. Tim had absolutely no clue about the storm coming his way.

Well, he will eventually, as planned. He just won’t be able to prove it.

The next day, Jason sat on the sofa from before, his knees bouncing impatiently. Replacement was late.

Okay, so technically they hadn’t agreed on a time, but the kid kept a schedule. Well, not a literal one, but he followed a sort of system which Jason had caught on to.

Like just the thought of him summoned him into the room, Replacement stuck his head through the library door.

“Jay!” he exclaimed in excitement, walking over to him, smiling very brightly. “You’re here!” 

“Yeah, of course, Tim-Tam.” Jason forcibly grinned back, slightly confused. “I told you I was gonna help you study today.”

“I know,” Replacement sighed, sitting next to him and setting his books down. “I just- I was worried maybe you forgot- or- or maybe I was asking too many questions yesterday…” 

He stared at his feet, and perhaps Jason’s brain was playing tricks on him, but he swore the kid was on the verge of tears.

“What? Of course not!” he assured him quickly, something weird pulling at his stomach. “I’m supposed to be helping you, which means if you have questions, I’m supposed to answer them, get it?”

Those blue eyes seemed to stare deep into Jason’s soul, like one move could make or break it, forcing him to keep from instinctively swallowing down his nerves.

Replacement nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

Once English came around, Jason started to question his commitment to his plan. Was he capable of creating another ignorant kid, who kept misinterpreting the literary masterpiece that is Their Eyes Were Watching God? Could he really do that to Zora Neale Hurston? Could he?

Fortunately, his excuse to teach the book right came in the form of Dick. As long as he was here, he’d get caught telling him lies, so he had to do it right.

“Hey, you guys, what’re you up to over here?” Dick flashed a classic Grayson smile.

If Jason didn’t know him any better, he’d say that was jealousy he saw behind his ex-older brother’s happy-go-lucky expression. Excited at the chance to prove to Dick he was the better brother, Jason snaked a hand out, tucking Replacement into his side.

“I’m helping Timbit study Their Eyes Were Watching God,” he told him smugly.

Dick broke his smile to pout, crossing his arms. “You’re cuddling without me?” Sighing dramatically he dropped himself on Tim’s other side, pressing his face against Jason’s shoulder.

“Dickhead, no! Get off!” Jason hissed, trying to shove him away.

But this was Dick, and the harder Jason pushed, the stronger Dick clung. They struggled for a while, until Replacement finally managed to squeeze out from between them, ditching Jason to be completely covered in the first Robin.

“Well, thanks, Jason,” Replacement said, picking up his stuff. “But I think I can cover this one myself. So…” He winked mischievously. “I think I’ll leave you guys to your cuddle session.”

Damn it, Dick!

Jason growled at him once Replacement was gone. Dick just laughed at him.

“That was really nice of you to help him study, Little Wing,” Dick whispered, settling down. “Tim doesn’t usually let people do that.”

“He doesn’t?” Jason raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Dick shrugged. “Probably because he thinks he can’t ask for help… For a while, I thought you might not like him, but I’m really glad you guys are getting along.”

Jason held back a snarl, clenching his jaw. “Yeah?”

“I wish I’d been a better brother to you from the start.” Dick looked up at him. “It wasn’t even you I was angry at, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t…” He hid his face into Jason’s sweatshirt. “I’m so happy you’re home.”

Awkwardly, Jason patted his head. An unnamed feeling chewed at his heart, but the little green that remained scared it away.

No turning back now. No regrets. No more Robins.

“I’m glad I’m home too, Big Bird.”

A couple days later, Jason played with the last few peas on his plate.

Almost all of dinner had passed, yet Bruce hadn’t mentioned the Replacement’s grades. Actually, Bruce hadn’t spoken a single word. He was making an intense brooding face. The kind where he was preparing something to say to his kids. 

What’s so bad he hasn’t started with the lecture? Jason worried, stabbing four peas at once. I couldn’t’ve made him fail that bad, right? ...Right?

“Tim.”

After what felt like an eternity, Bruce finally made some sort of eye-contact with Replacement, clearing his throat.

“I saw your report card earlier,” he started. 

Jason could feel the blood beginning to hammer in his ears with anticipation for this very moment. 

“...I've been a little worried your nightlife might be affecting your grades…”

Jason gripped his fork, glancing between them.

“... So I was, well, I was surprised when I noticed…”

Jason held his breath. 

“...That you got straight A’s,” Bruce finished, like he was 'the quiet kid' doing his big class presentation.

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me!

Jason wasn’t sure which was more likely to happen; that  he might burst a blood vessel or snap his fork in half. 

“Oh, wow, seriously?” Dick patted Tim’s shoulder, his eyebrows raised with an impressed look. “I mean, we’ve just had one of the busiest months, that’s really impressive…” And then he just had to look at Jason. “Hey, wasn’t Jason helping you study or something.”

Oh shit. Crap. Too soon. Too soon! I’m so screwed!

“Tim, I thought you told me you prepped for your finals last week?” Bruce questioned, clearly puzzled. “Because you always like working ahead?”

“Yeah, he was helping me look over the review materials for next semester.” Replacement turned his tiny, honest smile to Jason. “I do like knowing what we’re learning beforehand.”

The temptation to face palm was so irresistible, Jason almost took it. Because he assumed his Replacement was studying for the final, but the kid never actually said that’s what he was doing. 

All his theories were confirmed at that moment, no questions asked. Timothy Drake was a naïve nerd. His rich ass wouldn’t survive a day in Crime Alley without the suit.

Managing an innocent smirk, Jason nodded along. 

“He’ll be very prepared for next semester. Nobody’ll see it coming.”

You might've escaped unscathed this time, Replacement. But believe me. I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.

Chapter Text

3. The Responsibility 

"Remember." Bruce’s words, as he ducked into the Batmobile, rang in Jason’s ears now. "I know you're not used to it yet, but I trust you, Jaylad. I trust that you can watch out for your brother while we're gone."

"And, for goodness sake, Master Jason, " Alfred snipped from the seat beside him, "please do not forget to pick up Master Timothy from school today."

"Sure thing, Alf. How could I possibly forget?"

School had just let out and Jason was sitting on his bike across the street, watching intently as the kids poured out of the building. He smirked when a familiar face exited through the doors, looking down the line of chauffeurs and occasional parents there to pick up their kids in expensive cars.

Sorry, little birdie, no Alfred today… Nobody here but me.

He watched his Replacement’s face morph into confusion as he checked, and double checked, making sure he hadn’t missed the familiar sleek, black limo. When he was completely certain it wasn’t there, he pulled out his phone.

Jason reached into his pocket to get his own cellphone. Soon, he’d be receiving a text asking where he was, once the kid found out Alfred was off-planet. All going according to plan.

For the next three days, unbeknownst to Replacement, yet, Jason had been assigned to babysitting duty. Which, in other words, translated to: the perfect alone time to torment his Replacement. It was Wednesday today, so he had until late Friday night, when Dick arrived, to finally get it to dawn on the kid Jason was purposely messing him up.

He checked his phone.

Any minute now. Any minute.

Replacement must’ve texted Alfred by now, asking where he was. Alfred would tell him he was out of town, but lucky Jason came for him in one of Bruce’s sports cars. Or so he’d been told to do. When the Replacement still couldn’t find him, Alfred was supposed to text Jason, so then Jason wouldn’t answer, claiming later that his phone died. And sure, he could have called him over, but he was still legally dead and not supposed to draw attention to himself.

Frowning, Jason looked up from his phone, back to where Replace was standing. Except he wasn’t there. 

He could feel his fingers clenching as he stared to picture the kid getting kidnapped right under his nose. A horrible feeling squeezed Jason’s stomach, a pressure building up against his back, knocking the air out of his lungs. Actually, in a weird way, it felt almost real. Like a pair of boney arms were wrapping around him.

“Uh, Jason, are we going or what?”

Jason barely managed to bite back his scream, when his brain finally caught up with him, and he realized Tim was sitting on his bike.

Where- How did he- When did he get here?

“Repl-! Tim, uh, dude, I was just about to text you,” he covered himself quickly. “How’d you find me?”

“Huh,” Replacement blinked at him. “Well, I saw you from across the street. I was texting with Alfred, and he told me you were in one of Bruce’s cars, but knowing you, I figured you’d take your bike instead."

Jason mentally cursed himself. His own predictability foiled him!

“Oh, hah,” Jason chuckled uncomfortably. “Figures. So you know I’m in charge the rest of the week, then?”

“Yup.” Replacement popped the ‘p’, pressing his face into Jason's back again. “Only until Dick gets here,” he added mischievously. “Are we going home now?”

“Right, hang on tight.”

Driving back to the manor, Jason took note. Tomorrow, he needed to do the unexpected.

The next afternoon, twenty minutes after the bell, Jason rolled up to the school in one of Bruce’s cars. He parked in the back of the parking lot, checking out the entrance to see if he could spot the Replacement. The heavy rain was not making it very easy.

Squinting, Jason finally spotted him, standing around in the pouring rain, talking with what was probably a group of his friends. 

Some friends.

Jason snorted, the others were huddled under a pair of umbrellas, while Ti- Replacement was getting completely soaked. Grumbling to himself in frustration, he honked his horn. Loudly. Because he didn’t need Bruce and Alfred lecturing him about getting his ‘little brother’ sick on his watch.

He honked the horn again, glaring through the window, even though he was sure Replacement, or anybody, could see his face through the rain. At least, through the foggy glass, he managed to make out Replacement waving to his friends and running over to the car.

The door opened and the kid flopped onto the seat next to Jason, dripping everywhere . Reaching into the back for a towel, Jason threw it over his  head and started patting him dry.

“You shouldn’t leave a guy waiting like that, Timborino,” he said, knowing perfectly well he was the one who was late.

Replacement had the nerve to snort, ripping the towel away from him.

“Geez, sorry about that, Jay. But you won’t have to worry about that tomorrow.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m going to a party tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about picking me up or anything,” Replacement said with a shrug. “...Is that cool?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Jason answered, starting the car. “Just you and a couple friends?”

He shuddered at the mere thought of some awkward party, chock full of tiny teens sipping sodas, and some soccer mom enthusiastically offering them cookies.

“Yeah…” Replacement stared out the window. “Just a couple friends. We’ll just be hanging out or something.”

Hey, what’s the harm? Jason figured. More me time, more plotting time.

The following night, Jason was so engulfed in baking a second batch of cookies, he almost missed the sound of Dick entering the Manor.

“I’m home!” Dick hollered, bursting into the kitchen, smiling broadly. “Hey, Jaybird,” he said, coming up behind Jason, “baking cookies?”

“Yeah- Hey!” Jason slapped Dick’s grabbing hand away. “No touching, they’re still cooling!”

“Aw man,” Dick pouted, wrapping an arm over his shoulder. “Where’s Tim?”

“Oh, at some party,” Jason said, shrugging him off. He paused when he noticed Dick frowning at him. “What?”

“Where?”

“Where what?”

“Where is this party?” Dick pressed, crossing his arms.

“Probably some other kid’s house, I don’t know, Dickface.” 

Jason opened the oven door, shoving a new sheet of cookies in.

“Okay, but is there adult supervision?”

“I mean, I would assume so,” Jason huffed, rolling his eyes, leaning against the counter.

Though I doubt any parent would find it fun to watch their kids playing video games.

“You assume so, Jason?” Dick snapped incredulously. “Did you ask? Did you even give him a curfew? How is he getting home?”

“Geez, man, what’s with the pole up your ass?” Jason asked defensively. “I’m not some weird helicopter parent. He’s 14 hanging out with a couple friends, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“He’s-” Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “You’re telling me, Tim is at a party you don’t even know the location of, with friends and no evidence of adult supervision, out at…” He glanced at the kitchen clock. “Almost eleven? Jason, put two and two together. 15-year-old plus party with friends. What's he doing right now, Jason?”

Jason opened and closed his mouth, his brain short-circuiting.

15 = High School. Party + High School = High School Party. High School Party + 'Hanging Out or Something' =  …

“Oh my God, he's playing beer pong!” Jason gasped, clutching the edge of the counter for dear life. “He’s making out with girls that are too old for him! He’s surrounded by strangers that are gonna peer-pressure him into doing drugs! Dick!”

“I’m texting Babs to get his location right now,” Dick said, tapping furiously on his phone. “Jason, I just can’t believe how irresponsible you are.”

“I didn’t know , okay, Dickhead?” Jason hissed back, bouncing his leg impatiently as they waited for Barbara’s answer.

“I’m so telling on you,” Dick threatened, checking his phone. “If Tim’s drunk as a skunk… Oh, thank fuck , she managed to track him. Come on.”

Guiltily, Jason followed after him.

Damn it, I should’ve known better.

Half an hour later, Dick and Jason were stopped in front of a low, brick building, where adults and teens were clearly seen walking in. Most were dressed in more casual expensive suits and dresses, while the rare few were in very expensive attire. They were all flooding in through what looked like a back door, or even possibly a bar.

Honestly, Jason couldn’t put it past rich parents to do this with their kids, like for some sort of odd 'take your kid out drinking' right of passage tradition.

“What is this place?” Jason growled.

“I don’t know,” Dick grunted back, “but there’s nowhere to park around here.”

“Okay,” Jason said, unbuckling his seatbelt, “you drive around the block, and I’ll go in and get the kid.”

“...Fine,” Dick sighed begrudgingly. “Just don’t draw too much attention, got it?”

“Sure thing, Big Bird.” Jason patted his shoulder before getting out of the car.

Following a family through the entrance, Jason refused to feel underdressed in his leather jacket and biker pants. He looked around. 

He was in some kind of large basement room built like a maze, with glossy wood floors and white walls. There were photographs hanging on one side, and framed paintings on the other. And there, a couple feet away, was Timothy Drake, in his nice suit, a champagne flute in hand.

Jason walked quickly over to him, prying the glass out of his unsuspecting fingers.

Replacement frowned up at him.

“Jason,” he whispered. “What are you doing here? You’re legally dead , what if somebody recognizes you?”

“Fuck that, Replace- Tim ,” he corrected himself, not even caring at this point. “What are you doing drinking champagne at some cultist party for Gotham’s elite? Do you have any idea how worried Dick and I have been?”

Replacement stared at him blankly. Then tilted his head in confusion.

“That’s sparkling cider.”

Jason looked into the glass and took a suspicious sip.

Oh. So it is .

“And,” Replacement continued, “this isn't a cult… or a party, either. It’s an art show.”

Blinking, Jason took a moment to take a second look around.

“What.”

“The winners of the school’s art competition got a place at this gallery,” Replacement explained, sighing.

“Oh.” Jason relaxed, running a hand down his face. “We kept imagining all the worst case scenarios… And this whole time you were just at some friend’s art showing.”

“Yeah, sorry, that’s my bad” Replacement breathed softly. “I guess it’s pretty late now, isn’t it? Is Dick waiting outside for us?”

“Right, we better get out of here before he does something crazy.”

Ditching the champagne flute, Jason ushered the kid out the door, and to the street to wait for Dick to come back. Glancing down at him, for a split second, he thought Replacement just shook with a sob. Then he realized how cold it was, and figured the small movement was a shiver. Taking off his jacket, he put it over his shoulders.

“Cold night, huh?” he mentioned awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Replacement answered dully.

Dick’s car stopped in front of them and Jason opened the back door, stuffing the Replacement in, before moving to the front.

“What happened?” Dick demanded to know. “Tim, are you okay? Are you drunk? ”

“No, Dick, I’m not,” Replacement snorted, rolling his eyes. “Jason just saved me from accidentally having my first taste of champagne,” he told him sarcastically, looking over at Jason.

“Wait, seriously?” Dick gasped.

“No, I’m kidding, Dick, geez,” Replacement huffed with exasperation. “It was just some stupid nerd event or whatever.”

Settling himself in his seat, Jason tuned out the rest of the conversation, an interesting twist in his plan formulating in his head.

Alright, seems like it's time to step up my game.

Chapter Text

4. The Set-Up

The game was really on now. In preparation for what was to come, Jason had been escalating what he'd been doing within the Manor walls.  What some might call 'harmless pranks', Jason weaponized into 'drive Replacement out’ tools. 

Replacing the regular coffee for decaf? Done. Secretly replacing his fluffy pillows for hard, flat ones? Check. Locking the door to the bathroom while he was showering? Double check. Timothy Drake wouldn't be sleeping like a baby any time soon.

So maybe that third one was a little unnecessary, but how the kid got out of there, Jason could never be sure. Regardless, even if Replacement didn’t understand what was happening, it was all a distraction, a façade. A smoke curtain for the real move, one he’d been preparing in the background.

Almost ready, just a little bit more.

Reorganize this. Delete that. Massaging his knuckles, Jason pulled away from the Bat-Computer. He frowned, narrowing his eyes. Carefully, he looked over his work, making sure everything was perfect. Even the smallest discrepancy could be (not literally) fatal. 

After a while, Jason cracked a wicked grin.

Ok. Yeah, I think this is it.

The night before Jason’s ‘big game changer’ was supposed to be put into action, he woke up to a scream.

That in itself was normal, after all his own screams of terror woke him on a regular basis. Except Jason was awake right now, and a second scream rang in his ears.

Jason frowned. Bruce was plagued by nightmares on occasion, but he and Alfred were out late at a gala. So that obviously ruled out Alfred too, though that wouldn’t make sense in the first place. Which only left one option.

Begrudgingly dragging himself out of bed, not entirely sure what motivated him, Jason walked down the hall. Stopping at Replacement’s door, he didn’t even bother nocking. He just let himself in with a yawn.

Okay, Replacement, what’s up now?

Peering inside, his face pinched into a frown. The kid was curled up in a little ball, shaking like a leaf.

“Timmy? You okay now, bud?” Jason asked, coming closer.

A pair of teary blue eyes stared up at him, unseeing. Instincts, probably Robin’s or something, brought Jason to his side as Tim- Replacement sobbed.

“Hey, hey, shh,” he shushed him. “It’s just me, Timmy, I won’t hurt you.”

“J-Jason?” Replacement whispered hoarsely. 

Jason almost felt guilty for how tired and sleep-deprived he looked, but brushed it off, wiping Replacement’s tears away.

“Hey, wanna tell me what happened?” he encouraged him. 

For a second, the Replacement hesitated, biting his lip. Then he quietly leaned into the touch.

“It’s nothing… I’m just really glad you're here…” he trailed off with a shuddering breath. “I- I- I don’t want to go, Jason. Please.”

Replacement’s boney arms wrapped around Jason’s middle, as he hid his face in his neck. 

“Please, don’t make me go, Jason.”

Holding the back of his neck, Jason pet his head. “You’re not going anywhere.” Even though he didn't really mean it, Jason repeated himself.

Sorry, I know you don’t understand, but you have to .

His Replacement needed to leave, because nothing could be worse than dying a Robin… And Batman didn’t deserve any more little birds. So Jason wouldn’t let him keep this one.

Which is why, as he rubbed Replacement’s arms, whispering reassurance, Jason refused to back down. His plan would continue in motion. He would convince the kid nobody cared, cutting him free.

I’m sorry, Tim, but tomorrow your suit will start to be stripped away.

It was a late Thursday night, Batman, Red Hood and Robin were on patrol. They were closing in on a hidden new shipment, some guns that they’d been tracking, a case Robin had been obsessing over. For a while. And that night, he’d received a tip that led them to a warehouse near the docks. 

Silently, on Batman’s signal, they dropped in.

For the first time since starting his plan, Lady Luck appeared to be on Jason’s side. To say he was feeling giddy was an understatement.

“North is clear,” Hood whispered, doing his best to hide his glee.

“South is clear,” Batman answered, his confusion coming off a bit over the comms. 

“I don’t understand…” Robin’s voice echoed throughout the warehouse, as he came into full view.

He approached the empty crates laying around, sticking his head inside. Rubbing the back of his neck, Replacement glanced all around, as Batman and Red Hood approached him.

“I don’t understand,” he repeated, getting a little pitchy with panic. “It’s supposed to be here. Fuck ,” Replacement ran a hand through his hair. “I swear, my intel was accurate, I have pictures and the tip from…”

Under the Hood Jason’s lips pulled up in triumph, but outwardly, he tilted his head questioningly. Batman stepped forward, putting a hand on Robin’s back, a prominent scowl on his face.

“...Okay,” he started slowly, “why don’t we head back to the Cave? We might just have to check for any errors-”

“No!” 

Jason had to admit, he thought the kid had quite the balls to yell at Batman. And pulling shit like that never ended well.

“Robin, you’re stressed. You’re not thinking clearly. Head home for the night-” 

…Uh, oh, Robin. Batman can’t trust you anymore. 

“There wasn’t anything wrong with my info! I’ve been working on this forever ,” Replacement hissed. “I- It was-” He cut himself off, opening and closing his mouth. “I can’t… But…”

If his Replacement wasn’t wearing a mask, Jason got the feeling his eye would be twitching. In a very calculated movement, Robin turned in his direction. His nostrils flared. His teeth clenched. It took a whole minute for his jaw to open.

“You.”

Oh ho ho, just try convincing Dadbats I’m responsible. Too bad, Replacement. This is your little mess.

“Me?” Hood's mechanized voice masked him perfectly. “What did I do?”

Red Hood squared his shoulders in challenge. Robin looked like he was about to lunge. Batman was distracted looking between them.

“Huh, who would’ve guessed catching a bat and his birds in a trap would be this easy?”

Three heads snapped up, to where a couple of Black Masks guys were perched on a tower of wooden crates and loose boards. They sneered menacingly down at Batman, Robin and Hood. Jason snarled, but Batman put an arm out in front of him.

“What is this?” he growled.

“Uh, exactly what it sounds like. A trap,” one of the men laughed. He took a small device out of his pocket, waving it around. “Oh, and as of now? You have 3 minutes before this place blows up. Ciao!”

Vision tunneling, Jason gasped for air.

Not again. Please, not again.

A few feet away from behind Robin, the door started swinging shut. But Replacement was faster.

“Go, now!” he grunted over his shoulder, struggling with something working against him.

Batman yanked Jason back to himself, dragging him towards the exit. He panted, and it felt like Hood’s filters weren’t enough, Jason was going to suffocate . There was a horrible boom at his back, and Bruce was yelling.

“Robin!”

Jason whipped around to see a device imbedded in the hinges, preventing the door from opening again. Bruce pounded against the heavy metal anyway.

“Robin!”

“Go!” Jason barely heard Replacement- the kid- Tim call out to them. “Go, right now! I have to get out the same way they went! B, go!”

Not completely registering his surroundings, Jason felt Batman grab him once more and start running away from the warehouse. Somehow, his mental clock managed to keep ticking.

Ten.

He’s gonna die.

Nine.

I wanted him gone…

Eight.

But not like this.

Seven.

I messed up.

Six.

This is on me.

Five.

And now he's dead.

Four.

He’s just a kid-

Three.

Fuck.

Two.

He's my baby brother.

One.

Jason gripped Bruce’s bicep, as he shielded him with his body. Bile burned against his throat, truths and confessions eating him alive. Like the explosion would his replacement. Robin .

“Dad-”

KA-BOOM!

Hot lights flashed and Batman grunted, Red Hood yelped.

“Oh my God, oh my, God,” he repeated like a mantra, pushing Batman off of him.

Hood ran back towards the destruction, looking around desperately. Then, suddenly, when he almost gave in to the resignation, he spotted something floating in the harbor. Not thinking twice, Jason shrugged off his jacket and shoved it in Batman’s chest, plunging into the frigid waters.

No more dead Robins.

He took a deep breath when Tim's body started to sink, swimming down under, and grabbing him from behind. As fast as he could, holding his brother close, Jason swam them to shore. A strong pair of arms relieved him when he made it, lifting Tim away from him.

“Shh, it’s okay, let it out,” he heard Bruce assuring Tim, who was coughing up water, Jason's jacket draped around him.

Getting to his feet, Jason joined them. But as he stood over Tim’s small, so small , shivering form, he froze. This was his fault. Was it really his place to try and sooth Tim?

He swallowed. But Tim didn’t know anything of the things he’d been doing. He was a blockhead, oblivious, that practically meant Jason had a clean slate to make it up to him.

Yeah, I can fix this. I’m sorry, kid, but I’m going to make this better. I promise.

Jason ran a hand down Tim’s soaking back.

“It’s gonna be okay, Baby Bird.”

Stepping out of the Batmobile, Tim shook with every step. From anger or the cold? Tim was sure it was probably both.

“Tim, slow down,” Bruce called from behind him.

Ignoring him, Tim kept storming across the Cave. All he wanted was to curl up in his bed. Or just a bed. What he really wanted was to scream, but his throat hurt just a little too much for that.

“I told you, I’m fine,” he croaked, over his shoulder.

“You swallowed a lot of water, I just want to look you over, okay, chum?” Bruce offered.

Something inside of him snapped and Tim flipped around, marching right back to where Bruce and Jason were.

“Oh, I’ll give you something to look over,” he huffed, with dark, sarcastic mirth.

“What-”

Bruce found out ‘what’ before he could even finish his question. Because, with a sharp jab, Tim punched Jason square in the nose.

Chest heaving, he watched the thick blood drip onto the Cave floor.

Was that enough to feed his ravenous ire?

Fuck no.

Chapter Text

5. Tears

Tim was a Drake not stupid , thank you very much.

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne!”

Bruce’s voice rang in his ears, but Tim ignored him. Because God Fucking Damn It , Jason could mess with his coffee; Jason could try to trick him into failing school; Jason could drag him out of his own art show; he could freaking replace his pillows; and Tim could even tolerate his mini panic attack when he heard the bathroom door lock, only to realize it unlocked from the inside.

But interfering with his work as Robin?

You’re dead, Todd. D-E-A-D, dead! 

As Bruce walked over to him, Tim glared at Jason, left eye twitching. Oh, poor innocent Jason who could do no wrong. Who thought he could kick Tim out, when all he wanted was a home, where he had a job to do, where he’d already proved his worth.

So he wasn’t the original sweet Robin, or the one who made Batman laugh and cry. So what? After all these years, he’d earned his place. The one who put Batman’s pieces back together. That was him, and he’d be damned before he was sent back to that cold, dead museum of a manor he’d once called home.

Angelic Jason played the caring older brother, his torment going completely unnoticed by the rest of the Waynes. However, Tim was on to him from the start, from the first moment he saw the hate behind those green eyes. He wanted Tim to look like an idiot, making ‘false’ accusations and making Bruce think he was whining about Jason for attention.

Staring at Jason’s dripping nose, Tim felt nothing but catharsis mixed in with pure humiliation. 

Oh, Todd, Todd, Todd. You have no clue who you’re messing with.

He wasn’t about to drive Jason out, but that didn’t mean Tim’s revenge would be any less sweeter.

“Tim,” Bruce said, stepping between him and his prodigal son. “Why would you do that?”

Tim looked slowly from Bruce, to Jason behind him, then back to Bruce. And took a hitched breath.

“I- I-” He sniffed pathetically. “He did this! He messed up my case! And my bed! I can’t sleep at night! And the coffee, Bruce, I don’t know what he did… but I think it’s poisoned,” he ended in a whisper, gripping his hair.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, inhaling heavily. Tim was 100% aware how melodramatic he sounded.

“Tim, calm down. Jason didn’t mess up your case. You were led on a false trail, it was trap set by-”

“He hates me and he did it on purpose! Jason wants to kill me! ” Tim spat, letting his lower lip wobble.

“What?” Jason finally unfroze from his shock, shaking his head. “No, Tim, I swear I wasn’t trying to-”

“You see, he admits it!” Tim yelled at Bruce, stumbling backwards, almost accidentally falling over. “I can’t-” He blinked rapidly. “I can’t believe I ever thought of you as a-” Tim took a shuddering breath, a single tear running down his cheek.

You thought you had game? Hello, Batman’s greatest weakness.

“...Tim…” Bruce pulled up the cowl, his face softening. “You’re upset right now-”

“...You’re on his side?” Two more tears.

“This isn’t about sides,” Bruce tried to say, visibly struggling to get a hold of the situation, failing miserably. 

“Yes, it is,” another, faster tear, “you don’t believe me because I’m not your real son!”

Tim ended with a hoarse shout, hyperventilating, full on crying now. Bruce reached for his cheek, but got his hand slapped away as Tim bolted for the stairs.

“Tim-”

“You’re not my dad !”

“Tim!”

Once he was safely alone in the study, Tim relaxed, wiping the couple tears that were genuine. He was counting on Jason’s plan working, he needed Bruce to believe Tim was making it up because he was upset. For once, he was taking a big chance on Dick’s dramatic event retellings. 

He could still picture his real big brother’s face, exhausted and somewhat accusatory. And all Tim had done was get kidnapped and proceed to tell his kidnappers he wasn’t really Bruce Wayne’s son. While Bruce was on the line. 

Tim managed to grin to himself as he made his way to the kitchen. He needed caffeine galore.

Let’s see how you like the room where the emotions happen.

The next afternoon, Tim was in the library going through some photos when he heard someone coming up behind him. Dick smiled, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, Baby Bird, whatcha got there?” He tried looking over his shoulder, but Tim blocked his pictures from view.

“It’s nothing!” he said quickly, flushing.

“It can’t be nothing ,” Dick’s smile broadened, his eyebrows quirking. “Come on, let me see. Please?”

Those puppy eyes almost got to Tim. Almost. 

“What are you doing here, don’t you still have work?” Tim asked, diverting.

Dick moved around the couch and plopped down beside him. “I took the day off.”

“Why?” Tim knew, but he stared up at Dick with his own doe-eyes anyway. 

“Because I missed you!” With that, Dick lunged for him, prying the pictures out of his hands. He took a  deep breath. “Tim, this is…”

“Not my best,” Tim mumbled, fiddling with his shirt.

“No, I love these! They're beautiful!” Dick proclaimed, beaming at him, holding up one of a Gotham sunset.

Tim snorted. “The ones I had in the art show were better-” He cut himself off, clamping his mouth shut.

Shit.

“...Show? What show?” Dick frowned at him, snaking an arm out to wrap around his shoulders.

“Show? No show,” Tim said quickly. “I don’t know anything about a show!” He resisted the urge to facepalm.

“Timmy.” Dick tucked Tim’s head under his chin. “What art show was this?”

“Okay, fine .” Sighing, Tim squirmed closer, not daring to look him in the eye. “Remember that party you picked me up from… The one I told you was just some nerd event?”

“Oh my God, Tim, why didn’t you say anything! I would have loved to see your work!” 

“It’s- It’s just, you were coming in late, and I didn’t want to bother you…”

“I’ll always make time for you,” Dick told him, brushing a hand through his hair. 

“I know,” Tim rolled his eyes, “but you’re already taking enough time off of work.”

“But why didn’t you say anything when-” Dick broke off, adjusting his hold. “Tim. Did Jason say something to you? Why didn’t you tell him about your show?”

“No- I- It’s-” Tim groaned. 

Damn it Dick. Why are you so perceptive?

“He didn’t say anything, I just didn’t think he’d ever want to… He doesn’t even…” He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. “He showed up and thought I was there for a friend. And I just… he’s got enough reason to hate me already anyways.”

The last part was mumbled into Dick’s shirt, and without meaning to, Tim started really crying. Hot tears poured down his face, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. He took small, shuddering breaths as Dick rubbed his back.

“Aw, Tim, ” he murmured. “Jason’s never hated you.”

“But he does . He does!” Tim insisted wetly, squeezing his eyes shut, hiding in his brother’s chest. “Jason hated me before he even met me. He wants to get rid of me.”

Fuck. Shut up, shut up. Stop talking already!

“It’s gonna be okay, Baby Bird.”

…But this is Dick. I can trust him, right?

“Tim, I’m so sorry.”

Tim froze, chilled to the bone. Because that was Jason’s voice, coming from behind him. Slowly, very slowly, he detached from Dick to turn around. Jason started up at him, kneeling down at the foot of the couch. 

He stared back at Dick, then Jason, then Dick again.

“You… tricked me?”

“Tim, no, that’s not what-!”

“Oh, my God, I am stupid…” he whispered. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, kid, you’re not-” Jason started.

“Oh, fuck you!” Tim cut him off with a furious hiss. “You know what?” He threw his pictures in his face. 

I was wrong. They all want me gone after all.

“I hate you! I wish I’d never met any of you!”

Watching Tim rush out of the room, Jason straightened back up, running a hand down his face. Which was a mistake, because his nose still hurt like hell.

“...Jason.” Dick turned to him, eyes narrowed. “An explanation would be appreciated. Considering I came here under the impression the problem was dear, old dad. Nobody said anything about you being the catalyst.”

Jason opened his mouth to call him a hypocrite. 

Except the only hypocrite here is me.

“Shit, Dick,” he moaned, sitting down next to him. “I messed up. Bad.”

Dick sighed, scooting closer to him. “You need some help?”

“Please?” Jason glanced over at him pleadingly.

“Hey, what are big brother’s for, huh?”

“Thanks, Big Bird.”

Chapter Text

6. The Brother

“Tim?”

Jason tapped on Tim’s door tentatively. He laid his full weight against the door, sliding down until his knees were in his chest. Under different circumstances, the dramatic part of him would have him knocking again, asking to build a snowman. But this wasn’t the time.

I should've known, why didn’t I see the mask he was hiding behind?

“Tim, can we talk? You can…” He swallowed. “You can stay in there, if it makes you feel safer. I promise I wasn’t trying to get you killed, I-”

A very unmanly squawk escaped him when the door swung open behind him, and Jason fell over. Flat on his back, he stared up into Tim’s red-rimmed, blue eyes. 

“I know that,” he said simply, shrugging. “Kinda figured that one after you stopped me from climbing the freaking counter.” His voice was smooth, with only a slight scratchy echo, like he hadn’t just been sobbing his eyes out.

“Oh,” Jason whispered.

“Yeah, oh ,” Tim snorted. “So you can cut the bullshit. You can say whatever it is you’ve been practicing.”

“Oh.”

Sitting up, Jason looked into Tim’s dark and dreary room. Tim stood at the door, hand gesturing for him to enter. Slowly he got to his feet, eyeing him warily, before centering himself in front of the bed, where Tim perched himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Jason started, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not asking you to forgive me, it’s- I-” he blinked, wetting lips as he tried to locate the words he had earlier. “Fuck it, I don’t know what I want! I wanted you to leave so you wouldn’t end up like me. But at the same time I was jealous, so I kept trying to make you miserable. But, but then, then the longer I was with you, the more I didn’t want you to go away. And I got conflicted with my stupid mission. And I kept telling myself it was about Bruce. That it was always about him… I kept telling myself it was because I died … I wondered if he even mourned me.”

His voice died in his throat as his chest heaved with fluttering breaths. Jason brought a hand up his face, finding it wet.

This isn’t supposed to be about me, why am I even crying?

“He missed you. He missed you so much. Bruce is your dad, and he loves you. ”

Jason looked up, staring at Tim, with his fingers curled in his blankets, watching him unblinkingly. 

“God, he hated me for the longest time.” Jason raised an eyebrow. “No, seriously,” Tim assured him, nodding. “B couldn’t stand seeing me in the suit.”

“But, he’s the one who-”

“Nope,” Tim interrupted him, popping the ‘p’. “I put myself in that suit. You’ve probably heard bits and pieces, but Batman got violent, you were dead and he wanted to…” He trailed off for a second. “The point is, I made myself Robin. He didn’t replace you, I did.”

Taking an awkward step forward, Jason lifted a hand, before letting it drop at his side. He bit his lip. Tim actually laughed, though bitterly, at his reaction.

“Seriously, how dumb do you think I am, that I can’t hear you cut yourself off before calling me ‘Replacement’?”

“Tim, I-” Jason sat down on the far end of his bed, watching him hesitantly. Tim moved back against the headrest.

“Don’t. Seriously? Don’t. Just finish what you wanted to say.”

“I never meant for you to get hurt-”

“Yes you did !” Tim huffed in exasperation, rubbing his cheeks to stop his tears from falling. “I don’t care if you didn’t mean to hurt me physically, you wanted to hurt me. And I, I don’t- You just had to hit where it hurts.”

Jason scooted a bit closer. “Kid-”

“And it hurts ,” Tim kept going, taking harsh, shuddering breaths. “It hurts because you acted like my brother, but you were just pretending. And it hurts because you wanted me to think nobody loved me. And it hurts so bad, because I’ve been selfish, because all I wanted was for someone to finally have even the smallest room to love me!”

He broke down, unable to keep his mask together as it crumpled hopelessly around him. Jason closed the distance between, his arms cramping awkwardly, unable to figure out what to do with themselves.

Quite the pair we make, huh?

“Shh, hey, no. You’re not selfish, not for wanting a family to love you. B loves you, I promise, Baby Bird. I mean, the guy loves all his kids, despite his obvious hoarding problem. But, I mean, have you seen the guy? He’s huge. His heart’s big enough to fit all the broken children he picks up. If something happened to you, to anyone, he’d be crushed-... Oh. Well, fuck.”

Jason couldn’t contain the snort that escaped him at his realization. A tiredness filled him, doubts of his ‘big mission’ threatening to swallow him whole. His arms wouldn’t move, but when had something so trivial ever stopped him? Instead, he tipped forward, burying his forehead on Tim’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I started us off on the wrong foot, but I care about you. I cared the whole time, subconsciously, without even realizing it. When you climbed up the freaking counter, I freaked out because I thought you were gonna fall and crack your head open.”

“ Wouldn’t’ve ,” he swore he heard Tim mutter.

“And that whole shit, trying to mess you up in school? That was petty. That was just me trying to get you benched.”

He felt the kid tense under him. “You tried to mess me up when you were tutoring me?” Tim gasped.

“Wait, you didn’t-” Jason’s head shot up to find Tim biting his lip, holding back a cackle. “Oh, come on you little shit, don’t scare me like that!”

Tim let out a snicker, smirking at him. “So worth it. I mean, dude, I’m not in 8th grade. I’m in high school. Way into high school. Like, grade skipping, 15 year old in 11th grade.”

“Yeah, well, in my defense, you’re tiny!” Jason groaned in embarrassment, his hands managing to unglue enough to plant themselves on his face. “I had like a dozen scenarios running through my head when Dick told me. Highschool parties are nuts, man… I wish I hadn’t ruined your art show, though.”

“You didn’t.” Tim blinked, looking away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go, you know, all things considered. And, I don’t know, my pictures have always felt kind of personal.” He let out a long sigh, carefully pulling Jason’s hands away. “I don’t forgive you. I can’t, because I can’t be sure if you’re being sincere with me, understand?” Jason nodded. “...But. But. Maybe one day I can show you some of my pictures?”

Arms finally finding their strength, Jason tugged Tim into a hug.

“I’d love that. I’m sorry I hurt you, that I kept trying to hurt you.”

"Okay, well, I don't mind pranks every once in a while. But if  you ever mess with my cases again, you're a dead man. Again."

Tim wrapped his arms around him, practically melting as Jason ran a hand down his back. Jason looked down at him.

“What, you really like hugs?”

“I don't know,” Tim mumbled, muffled against his shirt. “Everybody keeps telling me I’m touch starved, but I don’t know,” he said, shrugging against Jason, who was trying not to laugh.

“Okay, Timbo, well,” he moved to settle himself at Tim’s side. “I’m no Dick-”

“No, you’re just a dick,” Tim interrupted him seriously.

“Yes, I’m a dick,” Jason acknowledged. “But I don’t mind hugging it out for a while. If that’s okay with you?”

“Yup,” Tim said, snuggling up under his arm. “Can’t say I mind right now.”

“Well good, because you know, technically ,” Jason elbowed him gently in the ribs. “You’re still supposed to be on watch for secondary drowning.”

“Oh, come one,” Tim grumbled. “I’m fine .”

“Uh, no? You almost drowned, dumbass.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Not something I can just forget. Now that really freaked me out.”

“Big brother instincts,” Tim assured him, sagely. “Somewhere, very, very deep inside, you apparently have those.”

“Huh. Well, that figures.”

“I know, I feel so comforted by the fact.”

“Oh my God, you're such an ass!” Jason puffed, ruffling his hair. “Do you have any idea what I had to sit through last night? Do you?”

“Uh. Right. About that…”

It took a while. 16 hours, to be precise, before Bruce built up the courage to knock on Tim’s door. Well, to be even more precise, stand in front of his bedroom door, with knocking in mind. 

In the end, he settled for a quick knock, clearing his throat as he let himself in.

“Tim?”

To his surprise, he found two pairs of eyes staring up at him judgmentally. One green, the other blue. 

Tim was curled up against Jason’s side, who had a book in his lap. Jason raised a singular eyebrow, while Tim blinked at him innocently.

“ Yes , dad?” they asked in unison.

“Uh…” Bruce shuffled his feet uncomfortably, glancing from one son to the other. “You know what, I think I’ll just come back later.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jason grumbled, picking the book back up. 

He closed the door gently behind him, as he watched Tim close his eyes, listening.

“Everything good in there?” Dick asked, appearing at his shoulder.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said. “I think so.”