Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim looked carefully over the side of the building, a strong gust of wind caused his hair to whip widely around his face. Winter was just on the horizon, the familiar chill settling deep in Tim’s bones. Despite the chilly night, it was clear. The full moon illuminated spots that were usually shrouded in darkness. So, Tim took extra care to make sure to blend in with the shadows to keep out of sight of the goons down below in the alley.

He had been gathering intel about this new drug trafficking ring for the past two weeks or so as a way to keep himself busy while Bruce was busy off-world for a mission with the League. 

Tim preferred to stay busy. 

Technically, Tim wasn't even supposed to be out patrolling by himself and was supposed to have Nightwing with him if he went out. Ever since the Titans Tower incident, Tim wasn't allowed out by himself. Which, as frustrating and annoying as that was, Tim got it.

It would be a bad look on Batman if Tim got himself killed. 

But, Tim digresses. 

Point is, Dick lived in Bludhaven, a forty five minutes drive from inner city Gotham and even farther from the Manor. And if Tim was being honest with himself, he couldn't bring himself to even call Dick for emergencies, let alone for something as trivial as wanting to go on patrol. 

And besides, it was just gathering intel about drug traffickers. Tim could do this type of stuff when his eyes closed and both hands tied behind his back. 

So, going out solo just seemed to be the obvious option. 

Besides, there was no one to stop him anyways. Well, maybe except Alfred. But, what Alfred didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

It wasn't like his parents ever noticed his absence anyways. In fact, he can count on one hand the number of in person interactions he’d had with them in the past six months. And all of them were for galas and company events. Even then though, they didn’t really speak to him beyond barking instructions at him and telling him to stand up straighter. 

Mother despised when he slouched.

Not that Tim was shocked about that or anything. 

It’s just the way things were. 

Tim preferred to be left to his own devices anyway. He wasn’t some snot nosed brat who needed someone to take care of him. Granted, his parents had a housekeeper stop by weekly to drop off groceries and do basic upkeep on the house. But, beyond that, he was on his own. 

He was fine with it… mostly. 

But the fact of the matter was that Tim’s parents never noticed him unless he fucked up. 

There was never any mention of Tim being at the top of his class or praise for working his charms at galas in order to help seal partnerships for the company, or even more than a grunt of acknowledgement for his ‘Wayne Industries Internship’. To be fair though, that wasn't technically real. 

Perfection was the expectation, anything less was taken as defiance. 

And Tim is intimately familiar with what happens when he defies his parents. 

The sound of a truck backfiring snapped Tim out of his thoughts, his grip tightening on his staff unconsciously. 

“You’re late, asshole!” One of the lackeys shouted at the driver of the cargo truck who had parked at the base of the alleyway after a slow drive up. Luckily, Tim wasn't so high up that he could hear what was being said down below. As long as the wind cooperated, he shouldn't need to get any closer or plant a listening device.

“I had a tail that I needed to slip,” the other guy yelled back in a thick Gotham accent. 

Hm, a tail..? 

“Well, as long as you shook that tail,” the first guy sighed. “I won’t say anything to the big boss. But don’t you be late again.”

The driver scoffed. “Quit your whining and get your shit out of my truck! I have another stop to make.” 

The men went back and forth for a few minutes before several other guys came out and started unloading various bricks of what Tim assumed to be Heroin. 

There had been a recent rise in overdoses over the past couple months, particularly in chronic users. Most likely, someone was lacing the stuff with a stronger or more addictive additive. 

Batman had theorized that there was a new player in town that was supplying the stronger substance. But, he hadn't had time to investigate due to a string of crises that required his attention.

Thus, enter Tim stage right…. 

He hoped that Bruce would be pleased when he got back from off world. Maybe he would even tell Tim that he was proud of him. After all, he was doing this all by himself! Maybe Batman would finally start-

“All done here!” Someone called, followed by three loud raps on the metal doors of the cargo. “Where are you headed anyways?” 

“Gotta make a drop for Rolando,” The truck driver responded with a sigh

Rolando..? 

Tim mentally ran through all known criminals in the area, but was strangely drawing a blank. 

Why did that name sound familiar? 

Granted, going on thirty-two hours without sleep was probably hindering Tim’s cognitive abilities somewhat, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. 

“Geez man,” the first man said. “You getting mixed up with that shit?” 

“I gotta pay the bills somehow.”

“Yeah man but I have a kid,” the lackey said. “I don’t think I could get mixed up in that nasty business.” 

Then, it finally clicked for Tim. 

Rolando was the name of a child trafficker that had been trying to infiltrate his business into Gotham for some time now. But… Tim hasn't heard about him being active recently. 

So, something must have changed. 

Maybe…

“Yeah, the big bad Bat is out of town,” the driver explained. “So, he’s trying to move his cargo before he gets back from wherever he fucked off to.” 

Shit. 

Cargo meant kids. 

The driver was going to pick up a bunch of kids!

The two men said their final goodbyes before the truck started to drive back up the alleyway. Tim leapt to his feet, eyes darting between the truck and the warehouse where the blocks of heroin had been taken into. 

He shouldn't go after the truck alone… He knows Batman wouldn't approve. He should just gather the intel on the drugs like he planned. 

But… 

If Rolando was only making his move because Batman wasn't around, this could be the only chance to save these kids. 

Well, really, Tim only has one choice. 

He has to follow the truck.

With his mind made up, Tim quickly grappled down from the hidden ledge that he was on. He hit the ground in a practiced roll, quickly bugging the entrance to the warehouse, hoping to still gather something useful about the heroin deal, before quickly taking off after the truck. 

He grappled back up onto the roof, easily spotting the truck. It had just turned back onto the main road. He followed the truck for several blocks by rooftop, jumping and grappling between the ledges of the roof with practiced ease. At some point it had started to rain slightly, making the roofs slick and slippery.

Eventually, after several more blocks, the truck stopped at a nondescript old building. The man vacated the truck before going into a side entrance. Tim swung down a fire escape, and onto the roof of the building the man walked into. There didn't seem to be any windows that Tim could do recon from, so his only choice was to follow the driver inside. 

He hesitated. 

…

Maybe he should call Dick… 

…

Tim doesnt know how many guys are inside or what they are armed with. 

But… if he takes the time to wait, the kids could be gone by the time Nightwing could get here. 

Besides, Tim knew he couldn’t go whining to the adults when he was just a little nervous. 

He’s not a little kid anymore. 

Mother would be disgusted if she knew he let his own feelings get in the way of doing things the ‘right way’.

With his mind made up, Tim carefully made his way down to the street level before attaching a bug to the entrance and ducking into the building. It was dusty, and looked as if it had been abandoned for a while now. Tim wrinkled his nose at the smell of mold and mildew that hung in the air. 

It smelled like this building had been closed up for some time.

A thick layer of grime covered almost every surface. If this had been any other city, Tim had a feeling a place like this would have been torn down a long time ago. But, this was Gotham. So, Tim wasn't the least bit surprised that a run down place, a literal goldmine for crime, was still standing. 

Some light rustling broke Tim out of his thoughts, and he instinctively turned his staff toward the noise, ready to attack. 

A rat scurried across the ground in front of Tim, causing the boy to sag. 

Pull it together Timothy 

After turning down a series of long hallways, and running into a handful of deadends, Tim saw a light up head followed by the hush of a heated conversation.

He hesitated again.

…

Tim knew that he was all alone without backup and that he really should at least call Dick or Barabra or something .

But, he was this far in already.

So, against his better judgment, Tim began to silently make his way to the room at the end of the hall.

Or well, he would have if he didnt hear the tell tale sound of a gun being cocked directly behind his head.

“Got something here boss!” The man holding the gun to his head called. 

Shit.

Good going idiot.

This is what Tim gets for getting so caught up in his own head. 

“I’m talking with our buyer right now,” A voice, thick with an Italian accent, responded. “Deal with them how you see fit.”

 He heard another man respond, but Tim couldn't make out what they were saying. 

A buyer?!

Tim, despite the gun currently at his head, was glad he followed the truck. If there was already a buyer and they weren't just moving the kids, then this was more time sensitive than Tim had originally thought. 

Now, he just needed to find the kids. It would be a bit more difficult now that they were aware of his presence. 

The man roughly grabbed Tim’s cape, lowering the gun in the process, no doubt intending to haul him forward. But Tim, who had been waiting for an opening, had other ideas. 

Tim turned his body, hooking a leg behind the gunmans, and slammed the man down by his throat. 

He sensed movement behind him, and he turned, flinging three Batarangs out as he went. Two of them caught some additional thugs, while one embedded itself into the wall. A smoky mist released out of the Batarang, giving Tim the advantage. 

He snuck around, taking out the goons legs and knocking them out with his staff as he went. Tim knew this wasn't exactly ideal. Rolando knew he was here, and no doubt heard the commotion. So, he needed to find the kids and find them fast.  

With any luck, they are still somewhere in the building. Most likely they’re underground, below street level.

But he needed to move now.  

He turned down an opposite hallway, intending to search the outer rooms and lower levels for the kids. 

Unfortunately, in his haste, Tim didn’t see the final man come up behind him. 

Tim felt himself hit the ground before the pain in his head registered. Tim desperately tried to cling onto consciousness. 

“Boss, it’s Robin!” a voice called. “He’s one of them Bats!”

Tim felt himself fading fast despite his efforts to stay awake. 

Bruce is going to be so mad

—

Tim came to consciousness abruptly, coughing on water. 

Water dripped down his mask, thankfully still on, and soaked his suit. He coughed some more, his throat burning. Tim instantly became aware of his arms being pinned painfully behind his back. He struggled briefly, and his shoulders screamed in protest due to the thick metal cuffs around his wrists. 

Unfortunately, due to the thickness of the metal, the cuffs immobilized his fingers. And, without being able to use his fingers, Tim couldn't break out of the cuffs in this position. 

In other words, Tim was stuck.

To make matters even worse, his head was pounded painfully behind his eyes. 

He glanced around, gritting his teeth against the pain, noting the empty bucket and various goons in the room. 

Tim was so fucked. 

“Hello Robin,” a man that Tim guessed to be Rolando said, startling him into stillness. “I’ve heard alot about you Bats,” he added as he took a drag from a cigar. “But so far… I am unimpressed. ” 

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” Tim said instead. He could feel a vague panic starting to crawl up the back of his spine. The lackeys tightened their grip on his arms, no doubt leaving bruises. He flexed against the cuffs experimentally, desperately  trying to see if there was any kind of give. 

No dice. 

He was truly caught. 

And no one knew where he was. 

God, he’s really done it this time. 

How’s he going to face Bruce after this? Scratch that, how’s he going to get out of this? 

“There will be no pleasure for you in this meeting I am afraid,” Rolando sighed. “I cannot allow you to return to the Bat and tip him off.” 

“Would you believe me if I pinky promised that I would stay quiet?” Tim said, his mouth moving before he could think better of it. 

“Mind your tounge little bird,” One of the goons said, smacking him roughly in the mouth. The man’s ring caught on Tim’s lip, copper exploding on his tongue. 

That was definitely the sleep deprivation and possibly concussion talking. 

Rolando barked out a laugh. “You amuse me,” he said. “I’ll give you that.” He took another drag of his, no doubt expensive, cigar before strolling up to Tim. 

He struggled against the two beefy goons holding him, but it was no use. They had him pinned down. 

“Glad to be of use,” Tim responded. 

“Ah yes,” Rolando said. “I think you have a great many uses for me. You are very important to the Bat, No?” 

Oh great. 

They were going to try and Ransom Batman for him. 

As if this night couldn't get any more embarrassing for Tim. 

He did not want to imagine the look on Batman's face when he got the ransoms. 

He would be furious for sure and most likely bench Tim until further notice. 

“Not particularly,” Tim answered honestly, his voice a bit rough due to the coughing. “I’m just the sidekick.” 

Rolando narrowed his eyes. “You must be much more than that to the Bat.” 

Tim repressed a pained laugh as one of the men holding him yanked his hair back. He failed to suppress a hiss of pain though.

Tim’s heart clenched. 

Oh how he desperately wished that he was more to Batman than just Robin. 

 He suddenly became aware of hot sticky blood running down the back of his neck. 

His head wound must be bleeding. He’d almost forgotten about it.

“Batman doesn't pay ransom,” Tim insisted. Especially when the ransom wouldn't even be necessary if Tim wasn't so damn irresponsible. Back when Tim had first become Robin, Batman had actually left him to fight his way out of a situation just like this. 

A training exercise he'd called it. Which, in hindsight, made sense. And it wasn't like he wasn't there to step in if things got too dire. 

“So where does that leave us?” 

“A good question indeed,” Rolando admitted. “But, if the Bat won't pay your ransom as you claim, I’m sure someone would pay a good price for you.” 

“Listen,” Tim started, his words slurring slightly despite the fear that was rattling around in his chest. 

“Or maybe I could just take the mask off and see who you really are, Robin ,” Rolando mused aloud. “I’m sure you’re a very pretty boy underneath that mask.” Rolando surged forward, caressing Tim’s face. 

He tried to flinch back, but was held in place by the goons. He tried to subtly fight against the cuffs again.

“We could have lots of fun together, No?” 

Tim repressed a gag at the implication and his heart pounded painfully against his rib cage. Rolando got closer, taking a dramatic inhale. 

“There’s nothing like the scent of blood on fresh meat,” He mumbled lowly, giving Tim a husky look. “Wouldn't you agree, little one?” 

There really was no way this could get worse. 

Turns out Rolando had a bit of a thing for underage boys. 

Who would have thought? 

Certainly not Tim and his stuipd sleep deprived brain. 

It was almost too cliche to be true. 

“I got your money right here Rolando,” A new voice drawled as a figure emerged from the doorway at the back of the room. But, there was something oddly… familiar about them. 

“Go check it,” Rolando barked at one of his goons as he winked at Tim before backing away. 

“Ah, Replacement !”

No.

No.

Tim had one job. 

“You know each other?” Rolando asked, his eyes calculating. 

“Unfortunately.” 

Tim found himself struggling with renewed vigor against the men holding him, a panicked noise escaping his throat. 

Not again. Not again, please. No. Not again. 

Suddenly, the hands on him seemed to burn and he could almost feel broken glass and bullet wounds and-

And-

And-

And-

His breath came out in harsh pants as the Red Hood came into full view, the skylight in the room allowing the moon to illuminate him in his entirety. 

“What did I tell you about coming into my territory, Replacement..?” 

Bright Green eyes lit up the darkness. 

Cold terror flooded down the back of Tim’s neck. 

Tim always heard that you should never meet your heroes. 

Apparently , they would almost always disappoint you.

But, Tim always thought that his hero was the exception. 

Tim remembered a time when he would've been ecstatic to be in the presence of Jason Todd. But, that was before.  

Jason Todd, the version Tim admired at least, was dead. 

In his place was the Red Hood. 

And, if anyone knew anything about the Red Hood, it’s that he hated the newest Robin with every fiber of his being. 

These days, the very thought of having to be in his very presence would send Tim spiraling. Not that he would ever tell that to Dick, or God forbid Bruce . The pair wouldn't admit it, well Dick might actually, but they desperately wanted Jason to come back into the family. 

Both put up a front like they hated the Red Hood, but Tim is more perceptive than they give him credit for. 

But that’s okay.

Tim generally prefers when people underestimate him.

 He sees the way Bruce will stare at Jason’s robin costume, still on display in the Bat Cave of course, after a particularly rough patrol. He sees the way Dick looks at Jason’s old room, almost as if he is waiting for him to stroll out for some of Alfred’s waffles. And, most importantly, Tim see’s they don’t look at him. 

Tim knows that he is an afterthought. 

A replacement.  

He always has been. 

No one, not even his parents, ever wanted Tim; not as he is anyways. 

They want him as Robin or as the Drake Heir, or as the nerdy genius who skipped a few grades.

Never as Tim.

But hey, he couldn't really blame them. Tim didn't really want him as himself either.

At least Jason’s return proved what Tim always knew about himself;

He was replaceable and weak. 

And it stung just that much more because it was his childhood hero who had confirmed his worst fears. 

Turns out, you really shouldn’t meet your heroes.

But still, he’d  always thought that Jason would be the exception.

The incident at Titans Tower effectively took that belief out back and shot it in the head. Funnily enough, Tim is sure that his hero would have liked to do the same to him that night if he hadn't tried to-

“I was unaware that you and that Bats had… dealings.” Rolando mumbled around his cigar, effectively breaking Tim out his panicked thoughts. 

“The only thing I have when it comes to Bats, is the overwhelming desire to maim.” Red Hood responded as he strolled up. 

“It would be a shame to maim such a pretty face…” Rolando said with a sigh as he stepped up and caressed Tim’s damp face. He did his best to remain stiff. 

Hood shifted his stance, his hand going to his gun. 

Tim involuntarily jerked at the motion. 

‘Run little bird run,’

Tim needed to get out. 

He had to get out of here. 

“I know what you mean,” Hood said after a beat. His voice was low and deep. It set alarm bells off in Tim’s head. 

What…

Hood hated him.

There was no way.

In fact, what the hell was Hood doing here in the first place?! 

Child traffickers were perhaps the only thing he hated more than Tim. 

There’s no way he was in dealings with this guy. 

Hood was extremely protective of kids. Well.. Kids who weren't Tim that is. 

This.. This just didn't make sense. 

This has to be a ploy of some kind. 

Tim started to struggle again, his chest heaving as Hood’s words sunk over him. 

“You hate traffickers,” Tim found himself shouting as he struggled. He was rewarded by another smack, this time across the cheek. 

Hood turned to him, eyes blazing green again. 

He seemed to be appraising Tim, the silence stretching on for what felt like decades.

The sight made Tim freeze in fear. 

“Are you so sure about that?” Hood responded with a cock of his head and the unholstering of his gun.

“You’ve built your entire enterprise on protecting those who need protecting,” Tim tried to reason. “It doesn’t make sense!” 

Hood responded by striding up to Tim, who tried to scramble back despite his bounds, and pointing the gun straight at Tim. 

Breathe caught in his throat and Tim froze, his muscles locking into place. But, he still tried to keep his face straight. 

He couldn't show complete weakness. 

“I thought you were smarter than this Replacement,” Hood chuckled. “What better way to stay under the radar than becoming a pillar of justice for the very thing I invest and enjoy in?” 

En- Enjoy..? 

“So,” Hood started, cocking his gun and pressing it to Tim’s head. “I ask you again.” 

“Are you sure ?” 

“Cat got your tongue..?” Hood growled, pressing the gun harder into his head. “Are. You . Sure.” 

Tim stared up at Hood, his head pounding painfully as he tried to come up with any possible reason that Jason would do this.

Ultimately, Tim came up empty.

No, Tim wasn’t sure. 

Not anymore.

Tim found himself wishing that he’d really never met his hero. 

Tim slowly shook his head, not trusting his voice. 

Hood laughed, and Tim had to repress the urge to cower. 

He was beginning to feel like he was back in the tower. 

Tim was starting to slip. 

“Why the hell are you in Crime Alley anyways?” 

Tim mentally halted. 

Crime Alley? 

He shouldn’t be-

Shit.  

Was he in Crime Alley right now..? He had been so busy trying to keep up with the truck that he hadn't been watching what part of the city he was in. It makes more sense now. Hood wouldn't allow anything in his territory that he wasn't in on. 

Stuipd sleep deprived brain. Turns out that fourth cup of coffee hadn't done nearly enough for his senses as Tim had been hoping. 

“If you don’t answer me in the next five seconds I swear to God I am going to paint the pavement with your gray matter, Replacement.”

Tim’s heart skipped several beats and he nearly slumped over with panic.

“I-I didn’t realize that I was in Crime Alley,” Tim blurted. He cringed at the crack in his voice. 

Weak.  

His mother would be so embarrassed if she could hear him right now.

Hood laughed darkly. 

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face,” Rolando chimed in. “I rather like him.” 

“You expect me to believe that the old Bat let you out of your cage while off-world and you just happened to waltz onto my turf..?” Hood retorted, his eyes glowing green as he ignored what Rolando said. 

Tim remained silent, the fight drained out of him. 

Hopefully, Hood makes it quick. 

“And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Hood said, his grip on the gun tight. 

Hood lowered his gun. 

Tim let out a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding. 

“How much?” Hood asked, turning to Rolando. 

“Excuse me,” the man said, narrowing his eyes. 

“I said,” Hood growled. “How much for the bird?” 

Tim’s brain short circuited, his eyes widening beneath the mask. 

There’s no way that-

“Hm, I do not think I want to sell,” Rolando said. “At least, not yet.” 

“This is my turf old man,” Hood responded roughly. “I get first dibs.” 

First… first dibs…?

Rolando waved his hand, looking annoyed. “Fine, but you bring him straight back here when you’re through.” Rolando held out his hand. “You’ll wire me the cash, no?” 

“Just give me an amount and it’ll be done.” Hood said as he roughly clasped the man's hand. 

His eyes were still glowing a vibrant green. 

Maybe he can convince Hood to kill him. It would be better than getting sent back here. 

Hood advanced, the goons throwing Tim to the floor. He yelped, unable to catch himself. 

“Come on Replacement,” Hood said almost kindly in his ear as he hoisted him up and over his shoulder. 

Tim felt a brief rush of energy where he tried to struggle, but Hood roughly grabbed him by the back of the neck.

“Be good now,” he growled, walking past Tim’s former captors. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. And, the hard way is going to look awfully familiar.” he added in a sing-song voice as they passed Rolando.

Oh . 

Hood means that he’ll torture him… like in the tower. 

Okay. 

He can do this. 

Just… don’t resist. 

Don’t fight back and everything will be fine. 

He can do this. 

Tim can outlast this. He’d outlasted harsh words and slaps from his parents. He’d outlasted the first brutal six months as robin, back before he’d even been allowed on the street. And, He’d outlasted the Red Hood before, back at Titans Tower. 

He can do this.

Everything will be fine. 

Everything will be fine. 

Everything will be fine.

Chapter Text

Jason Todd was many things.

He was a former street kid and estranged from his family

He was a Leo and a self proclaimed asshole.

He was the fucking Red Hood and King of Crime Alley.

Hell, he was a proud murderer of those he deemed worthy; which were mostly rapists and traffickers if he was honest. That was a well known fact among those native to the cesspool that is Gotham City. 

Or, at least he thought it was. Which is why he had decided to keep up his chardae with the out of towners and ‘buy’ back the complete idiot of a Replacement.

Because, one thing he was not was a rapist, let alone a child rapist. And, as much as Jason hated to admit it, the Replacement was smart. So, Jason of course assumes that he is smart enough to be able to tell a bluff from a serious offer.

Jason was banking on that. 

And really, it seemed like a good idea. He couldn’t blow his cover and risk the shipment of kids he was tracking to be moved before he could get to them. He was not willing to throw weeks of work down the drain. But, he also couldn’t risk Batman's precious little bird to fall into the hands of traffickers. 

No matter his issues with the kid, there were certain lines not even Jason was willing to cross. And sentencing a child, even if said child was the damn Replacement, to get raped and God knows what else just happened to be one of them. Jason was going to have a serious conversation with the little idiot about going solo into missions, especially ones like this.

He thought Batman had learned from his mistakes with Jason. The Bat may be off-world right now, but obviously this kid isn’t under as much supervision as he should.

So, Jason had planned on Robin going along with his little charade and then dumping the kid outside of Crime Alley borders. And then, Jason could double back and deal with the shit stains who laid hands on the kid. 

Not that Jason particularly cared if Robin was hurt, he had tried to kill the kid after all. Honestly, his memory was a bit fuzzy from his first several months back in Gotham. Strangely enough, he had to steadfastly ignore a small part of him that had almost shot everyone in the room when he saw what they had done to the Replacement. 

That was a bit of a surprise. He doesn’t understand why he had reacted like that to be honest.

It’s not like he actually cares about the Replacement anyways. 

He’s only helping the kid out because he doesn’t subject children to bastards like Rolando on principle. Even Jason has the framework of a moral code, despite what the stuipd fucking Big Bad Bat thought about him.

Oh well. It was probably just the Pit Rage acting up, again. And since it was acting up again, maybe instead of just roughing up the idiots who had laid hands on the stuipd Pretender, he would just kill them instead! That should calm the pooling rage in his gut long enough for him to hide himself away until the worst of it had passed.

Yeah , that sounded like a swell idea! 

Once Jason dropped off the Replacement, he could just make a quick U-turn and be back to kill them all and rescue the kids within the hour. His vision briefly tinted green at the thought, his blood rushing in excitement. He vaguely registered the dead weight of the Replacement on his shoulder as he exited the old, condemned building. He noted that the kid seems lighter than he should be. But, Jasons thoughts were too preoccupied with other matters to give it much thought. 

‘How would he kill those bastards’…?’ 

Jason could almost feel the green seeping into his eyes as his imagination ran wild.

If he wanted to be efficient, he could just shoot them point blank and get it over with. That might be best as that would allow him to get to the kids faster. 

Alternatively, he could rough em up a bit before he put them out of their misery. Specifically, Jason wanted to kill that scumbag of a leader and the two that had been violent with the little Robin in the first place. 

Only he was allowed to do that!

If Robin was going to die, it wasn’t going to be from the hands of some sleazebag with a fetish for kids. 

Jason would ensure that. 

‘No more dead Robins’

The phrase bounced around his skull a few times, making his pulse skyrocketed due to more than just run of the mill pit rage. This resulted in Jason taking some grounding breaths as emerged from the abandoned building. He knows his eyes were flashing green through his helmet, both from seeing the way those assholes touched the kid and from his quickly rising lust for murder. 

Really, he should just turn around right now and kill them all.

Maybe rough up the stuipd bird while he was at it for leaving Jason no choice but to pull his gun on him. 

What kind of idiot calls the bluff in front of the people that needed to be bluffed in the first place?!

Maybe the Replacement wasn’t as smart as Jason gave him credit for…?

Or maybe that was part of the act…? 

It would be safe to assume that Robin wouldn't just roll over and take it if someone tried to buy him. Maybe the kid had been using his brain after all…? 

Ah, well. At least the little bird hadn’t started actually trying to fight. He put up a pretty big stink at the Tower and Jason did not want to have to deal with that on top of trying to save his scrawny ass. Safe to say, Jason was a bit miffed about the whole experience.

All and all, murder is just what he needs to unwind after that shit show. 

To be fair,  the kid had done a decent job acting scared of the ‘Red Hood’. 

A little too well, a small part of Jason thought. But, the Replacement was probably just a good actor. After all, unfortunately, the kid was a Bat through and through; no matter how much it irked Jason to admit, even if it was only in his own head. 

But it was hard not to think about how scared Robin had looked when he mentioned the Tower. In Janson’s defense, it was the only way he could think of to get them out of there before his resolve to not murder all the child traffickers on the spot shattered. 

He was only human after all. 

Sort of. 

So, here Jason was all but dragging the kid out of that musty building, every fiber in his being screaming at him to go back and viciously murder everyone in that stuipd room; especially the ones who had all but dislocated the wayward birds shoulders. However, with his little plan in mind, he managed to make it out of there without cracking heads.

But, then there was Ronaldo and his disgusting little insinuations and touches. Not to mention the way he really expected the Red Hood to bring back Robin to him. As if Jason would ever let that slimy excuse for a man put his hands on a child on his turf! 

Stuipd fucking out of towners. 

Real Gothamites would be smarter than that. They would also be smart enough to stay clear of not only the big Bad Bat but also his little sidekick as well. 

Everyone knows that if anyone is taking out Robin, it's going to be the Red Hood. He’d made that pretty clear when he returned to the city six months ago. And sure, Jason didn’t actually go through with his grand plans of murder. But, in his defense, the Replacement was kind of amusing. And, a good scare can definitely serve his purposes just as well as full blow murder can. It’s not like he skimped on the bodily harm or threats or anything. Robin did just resurface a little while ago after a long break where he was presumably recovering from his injuries. And up until now he had made good on the promise that he would stay out of Crime Alley, which had been one of the conditions of him leaving Titans Tower alive. 

 Leaving the Replacement alive definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fact that just as Jason was about to actually go through with it all he could think about was ‘What if the League of Assassins put this Robin into the pit too and has to crawl his way to surface while he almost suffocates on dirt and worms’. 

Ha, it for sure wasn’t that. 

It also wasn’t because Dickface and the Bat would probably never look at him ever again. 

Or how much the stuipd little Pretender reminded Jason of himself in that moment. 

Or how the Replacements lasts words would’ve been an apology and he would’ve died scared and alone and with his killer just like Jason had and-

Jason growled, cutting off the rest of his thoughts as he set Robin down. He took note of the thick cuffs that were still on the Replacements wrists and had to suppress the pit again. Well, he certainly couldn’t ride on the back of Jason’s motorcycle with those on. Without giving any notice Jason gripped Robin's arm, holding him steady so he didn’t accidentally blow the kids hands off, and upholstered his gun before shooting the links in the metal.

Fucking idiots can’t even take the cuffs off. 

Jason stubbornly ignored the little voice in his head, that he swears died when he came out of the pit, that said he cared about what happened to the Replacement. 

It suspiciously sounded like Dick.

Which doesn't really make sense since Dick obviously hates him. Guess he never really stopped hero worshiping the big idiot. 

‘Never met your hero’s’ really takes on a new meaning when it comes to Jason. Both Batman and his original Robin had turned out to bring him nothing but rage and pain. 

Ugh. 

Whatever.

Either way, Jason would see to it that Ronaldo's demise would not be pleasant. 

Bringing himself back to the present, he ordered Robin to get on the back of his bike. They were deep in Crime Alley, Jason honestly doesn’t know how the hell the kid didn’t notice that he passed through the district's borders, and he wanted to drop Robin off in the Crest Hill area as soon as possible. 

So, riding his bike would be the fastest option. 

He tried to ignore the silence and utter compliance that the Replacement exhibited, even when he unexpectedly shot through the cuffs. Jason figured that once they were out of the building that the little urchin would start to mouth off, just like he had in the tower. 

But, the kid didn’t so much as looked at Jason. Robin just kept his head forward and complied. Unease curled unpleasantly in his gut. Maybe… he was just keeping up the act till he was sure it was completely safe. 

That would be smart. 

Yeah. 

That had to be what the Replacement was doing. 

So Jason simply hopped on the bike, lugging Robin on behind him and revving the engine loudly, before peeling off into the streets. The wind whipped widely around Jason as he sped through the dimly lit misty Gotham streets. Green briefly clouded his vision again as his mind drifted back to his plan for the rest of the night. He had to take several deep breaths just to get the hazy hue to recede enough for him to keep driving. On the bike behind him, the Replacement was gripping tightly around his middle, his knuckles white and his arms noticeably stiff. Despite this, he hadn’t so much as made a sound since they made their swift exit from that shithole, Jason's subconscious helpfully reminded him. 

His mind flitted back to the look of fear on the Replacements face as he had taunted and held the gun to his head. A stab of guilt punched him in the gut, causing him to growl under his breath in annoyance. 

Mayb e he had gone a little overboard. 

He’d been careful though. He’d triple checked that the safety was on. He’d made sure . 

Jason didn’t really have the desire to kill Robin anymore. Well, as long as he stuck to their agreement they had struck in the tower. 

But, the Replacement didn’t know that did he…? 

He was a smart kid though! He had to know that Jason wouldn’t do that! 

Well… not anymore at least. 

He thinks.  

He only remembers bits and pieces from that night, mainly the highlights of his fight and the very end where he decided to strike a deal with the Replacement. To be quite honest, Jason was in such a pit induced haze for the first six months back that he doesn’t remember a lot of what went down, period. Talia and the League of Assassins had filled his head with a lot of crap that he was still trying to sort through. He had wholeheartedly believed all of it for a while. But now, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Jason shakes his head, not wanting to think about all that at the moment. He brings himself back to the present, suddenly noticing how fast he was going and that he was firmly in Crest Hill now. In fact, he was almost to the bridge that would take them over to Bristol County. 

Whoops . 

He immediately clutched the break, the bike coming to the quick stop just before the beginning of the bridge. The bike slid a little, the roads wet due to the slight drizzle. Luckily for them both, Jason is a really good driver. Well, when he wants to be that is. Normally he rather enjoys driving fast and loose. It’s not like he didn’t have advanced healing from the pit or something. 

If he crashed, he would probably be fine.  

And if he wasn’t… well that wouldn’t bother him really. 

He’d just be fucking dead, again . 

No skin off his back.

Ultimately, Jason effortlessly got the bike back under control and brought it to a halt just shy of the beginning of the bridge. Lighting lit up the dark sky in the distance and the wind started to pick up, signaling that the clear night from earlier wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon. 

“Rides over,” Jason barked gruffly, the distorter in his helmet making the statement sound harsher than he intended. “I’m not a taxi service,” he tacked on, trying to joke. But, again, the voice modifier in his helmet makes it seem more menacing than he intended. Strangely, Robin didn’t let go of him. 

In fact, the little bird didn’t show any signs of having heard Jason. 

A bad feeling rose in the pit of Jason's stomach. He was again painfully aware of how quiet the Replacement had been since he rescued him.  

“You got cotton in your ears or something?” Jason barked. “Get off!” 

The harsh tone seemed to have woken Robin up from his trance as he jolted violently. He let go of Jason immediately, almost as if he was burned. He all but falls off the bike, scrambling to comply with Jason's request. Once the Replacement got his footing and was off the bike, he froze in place and averted his head towards the ground, masked eyes boring a hole into the asphalt. 

It was… weird, to say the least. 

Jason had honestly expected some kind of banter or threats at this point. He studied Robin for a moment, taking note of the way the boy was obviously trembling. This was not the spunky kid that Jason had fought in the tower. This seemed like a whole new person entirely. 

“Are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to start walking,” Jason barked, uncomfortable with the emotions swirling around in his gut. “Or running, I don’t care.” 

The Replacement jolted again, a small gasp of breath slipping past his chapped lips, making Jason internally cringe. It must have shown in his body language because Robin went stock still again, seemingly holding himself in place by sheer force of will. 

Despite the kid’s best efforts, the shivering seemed to be getting worse by the second.

And really, it wasn’t Jason's problem. 

It really wasn’t!

He got the idiot out of the frying pan, so the Replacement could at least avoid the fire by himself. 

But, there was something about the way the kid was just standing there like a kicked puppy that was setting off alarm bells in Jason's head. Logically, he figured that Robin would want to get away from him as fast as possible. But, here he was, still standing here looking like he was about to keel over. 

It was pissing him off! 

“Scram, brat!” Jason huffed, gesturing to the bridge. “I’m not waiting out here all night for you to make a move you better get to going.” He added as he also hopped off the bike and made a dramatic  motion. “Show me some of your Titans Tower spunk before I show you some of mine, Replacement!” 

He’d meant it as a joke.  

Sort of. 

Jason wasn’t good with Bats these days and sometimes his nerves made him snappier than he wanted to be. But, the second a small, high pitched whine escaped the Replacements throat, Jason knew something was wrong . 

Maybe… maybe the Tower incident had affected Robin more than Jason had thought.

The kid’s breathing picked up abruptly, his shaking becoming more prominent as he began to slightly sway with the strong gusts of wind. The boy's eyes were still hidden by the mask, but Jason could see by the movement of his neck that he was repeatedly looking between Jason and the bridge. 

More alarm bells started ringing in his head. 

But…. really… it wasn’t his problem.. right…? 

Jason didn’ t care about him. 

He tried to kill him for Christ's sake! 

He wrote on the wall in the Replacements fucking blood. 

Jason is not the person for this! 

While Jason was having his internal crisis, Robin’s breathing had gotten worse and he was now gasping for breath. To Jason’s utter confusion, he was still trying to hold himself still.

“Just…” The Replacement gasped around a horrifying sob. “Just do it.” 

Do…. it…? 

“J- just fucking do i-it,” Robin stuttered, his voice raw and wrecked. “Do- don’t turn this into a game .” 

“And what in the fresh hell are you talking about, Replacement?” 

“Just get it over with!” Robin ground out as a harsh tremor racked his skinny frame. “I-I did as you asked, I went easy!” 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

“I went easy and now you want me to run and-” a terrified gasp interrupted Robin’s speech. “And I can’t do it.” 

Jason watched in shock, mouth agape under his helmet. Lightning lit up the sky, shortly followed by booming thunder. The rain picked up, a steady stream falling from the sky and painting the air with mist. 

“I pro-promised myself that I-” A sob tore out of his throat again but he kept going, much to Jason's utter horror. “That I would behave and not-” Another gasping sob. “And not fight back but now you want me to and it's-” 

The Replacement finally drug his eyes up from where they had been strictly burning holes into the ground and look at Jason for the first time during this whole interaction. 

“Just fucking get it over with already,” Robin screamed. “I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll be good just-” A heart wrenching gasp overtook the kid’s speech and for the first time, Robin deviated from his soldier-like standing position. He racked his hands through his hair, tugging harshly on the ends before dragging his hands down to his face and tearing his robin mask off, letting it fall to the ground. The Replacement kept gasping for breath, his wheezing getting faster and faster by the second. His hand flew to his chest as his knees buckled, sending him tumbling towards the ground. 

Jason's brain finally caught up with what was happening and he surged forward, catching the kid easily. Robin crumbled into Jason's chest, hyperventilating and sobbing uncontrollably. 

“Just rape me already.” 

Jason’s brain froze. 

What…. the… fuck… 

Jason had… Jason had seriously miscalculated. 

Holy fuck. 

He was an fucking idiot !

Of course a child is going to be traumatized after something like what Jason did to him at Titans Tower. 

What the fuck is wrong with him?

And here he was joking about it while the kid was fucking stewing in his own thoughts for christ knows how long. 

“Just please do it, don’t make me fight, please,” the Replacement begged in between gasps of breath. Almost as if on instinct, Jason started rocking the kid back and forth and running his hands through his soaking wet hair. Now that he thinks about it, the action was remnant of how Bruce would comfort him after his freakouts when he first came to live in the manor. The thought sent a pang through his chest, but Jason pushed that particularly feeling away.

Now was not the time to think about his own stuipd, shitty issues.

Jason was completely out of his depth here, but the kid was panicking beyond belief and if he didn’t want a passed out Robin on his hands, Jason needed to do something and do it fast . 

“Replacement-” Jason cut himself off when he felt the kid flinch violently in his grasp. 

Shit. 

“Ti-Tim,” Jason tried, the name feeling odd on his tongue. The kid, and that’s what he was and god how did Jason do and say all those awful things to a kid , stiffened and ceased his sobs immediately. Unfortunately he was still gasping for breath and trembling despite his stiff muscles. Jason didn’t like how quickly he was able to cease making any noise. 

That’s a learned response. 

The only question is, who taught him that? 

“Listen to me Tim,” Jason started, putting off that line of thought for when Tim wasn’t about to pass out. “And I mean really , listen to me.” 

Tim’s panicked breathing hitched quietly but Jason felt him nod against his chest. 

“I was lying,” Jason said bluntly. His helmet, once again, made his tone sound too harsh. Subsequently, Tim started to cry his silent sobs even harder. 

“What the hell,” he grumbled to himself. Why was the kid panicking even more now? “We do not have time for this,” he sighed. 

At a loss, Jason decided he just needed to get Tim out of the elements and then sort through their little miscommunication they had going on after the bird had calmed down. God , he’s going to be kicking himself into next week for legitimately thinking that Tim wouldn’t be scared of him. 

He is so, so stuipd. 

Jason knew the Manor was closer and he could probably get Tim there faster, but the thought of even looking at his childhood home sent panic racing down his spine. Not to mention that he was not leaving Tim alone in this state, not even for the short time it would take for Jason to alert Dickface that something was wrong. Alfred could be there of course, but he wasn’t certain. The butler would take semi frequent visits back to England to visit his old war buddies. So, Jason wasn’t willing to risk it, not when Tim was like this. 

“Okay, Okay Timmy,” Jason said softly. “We’re going to get you out of here.” 

Tim just kept sobbing into his chest, probably not even registering reality at this point. Jason's stomach revolted as he was reminded why the kid was in this state in the first place. Luckily he was able to swallow the bile down and elected to scoop Tim and his discard mask up and, damn the kid really is way lighter than he should be, and placed him on the back of his bike. 

“Wh-where-” Tim tried. His eyes were glassy and his gaze was far off. Jason didn’t think he was entirely lucid. 

“Just hold on,” Jason said in lieu of an answer. He didn’t want to freak the little idiot out even more by saying they were going to one of his safe houses. “Are you going to be able to do that for me?” 

Tim nodded through his tears, his little episode seemingly coming to an end. It was as if all the meager fight he’d managed to assemble had drained out of him. Despite how worrying that was, Jason was grateful for it, as he wasn’t really sure what he was going to do if Tim started to panic while he was driving. 

“Good,” he grunted with a nod. He hopped back on to his bike, the rain starting to pick up even more. The temperature had also dropped, meaning a cold front was rolling in. Normally, he would avoid riding in weather like this but he didn’t really have a choice at this point. He revved the engine a few times and made a wide U-turn back into Crest Hill. He mentally ran over all the safehouses he had in the city. Jason knew his closest one was on the southern outskirts of Crime Alley and would probably be his best bet. 

Hopefully it wouldn’t freak the bird out even more. 

After a ride that took much less time than it should have, Jason and Tim had arrived at his safe house. It was located in a rundown, yet clean looking, apartment building that had old school fire escapes running up both sides of the building. Other buildings lined each side of it, little alleyways craved between them. It was the perfect place to stash his bike, which he promptly did. 

“We’re here,” Jason grunted as he pulled into the little alcove that he usually stashed his bike in. Tim was quiet, but he let go of Jason and slid off the bike. He stumbled a bit and Jason rushed over to steady him. “Woah, careful there, Timmers.” 

He honestly isn’t sure why he keeps butcher Tim’s name like that. But, calling him Tim seems a little too formal for his taste and he’s sure as shit not calling him Timothy.  

Tim didn’t react to Jason's words, just slightly leaned into the touch with a soft whine. It was at this moment that Jason noticed an intense heat had started to radiate from the smaller teen. He looked down, noticing the angry red marks from where Tim had ripped his mask off. 

He internally winced in sympathy. 

It always hurts to yank your mask off like that. Generally it was best to use baby soap or wipes to work away the sticky glue that held the mask in place. 

“Tim, can you hear me?” Jason asked, trying to keep concern from bleeding into his tone. He does have a reputation to keep after all.  

Again, Tim didn’t react. 

Jason swore softly and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

Now, instead of a panicking bird, he had a feverish one. 

Fucking perfect. 

Jason quickly covered his bike the best he could with Tim leaning on him before bending over and coaxing Tim onto his back. The boy complied easily enough, resting his head on Jason’s shoulder. From this position, Jason could feel more of the sickly heat radiating from the boy. 

He needed to get Tim inside and dried off before this got any worse. And before some goon saw the fucking Red Hood with a semi concious Robin on his back. 

Jason quickly made his way up to his apartment on the top floor of the six story building. The building was old so there wasn’t an elevator, meaning Jason had to rush up six flights of stairs. 

Once he reached his door, he quickly unlocked it and disabled all his extra security before depositing Tim on the couch. 

Okay, okay, okay,” Jason said more to himself than anything as he went back to the door to reset up all his security measures and lock and bolt his door. “First things first, he needs to get out of those wet clothes.” 

He returned to the living room area and turned his thermostat up. He took his helmet off, stashing it in the hallway closet. Outside, the storm had gotten worse and rain was pelting against the window. Tim was slumped into the arm of the couch, unmoving except for his minorly labored breathing and periodic violent trembling. His Robin costume was sopping wet and making a wet spot around him on the blue beaten up couch. Jason thinks he picked said couch up off the side of the road so he wasn’t too concerned with getting it messy.

“Okay, okay,” Jason said, his nerves spiking slightly. 

How the hell was he supposed to take care of a sicky and slightly comatose bird..? 

 “Shower, dry clothes, then bed.” Jason decided out loud before he could get too worked up about it,  racing to the bathroom to start the shower. He took off his helmet and stuffed it in his hallway closet, deciding that it was probably best to distance himself from his ‘Red Hood’ alter ego as soon as possible. “Wait, Dickface,” Jason mumbled. “Need to get Dick.” 

Jason isn’t sure why he needed to get Dick. Maybe it was the small part of him that still craved validation and care from the original Robin. Maybe Jason was scared he was going to accidentally trigger himself and go pit mad again on the defenseless bird currently lying in a puddle on the couch. 

For once, Jason actually wanted to take care of the newest Robin. 

It was… a weird feeling. 

Jason went back over to where Tim was on the couch and easily pulled out his phone and snapped a selfie of him, with a thumbs up and slumped over Tim in the background. ‘Come collect your bird’, He typed up to accompany the photo. Just as he was about to send it, he paused. 

What is he doing???

Does he really expect Dick to just waltz on over here? 

Dick hates him.

He would only assume the worst.

But…. he needed to make sure Tim was safe, safe from…from well, Jason. 

Jason wrestled with himself for a moment.

If he sent that message, there was a one hundred percent chance of a brawl between the two when Dick got here. It wouldn’t be good for comatose Timmy over there to witness. Plus, Jason really didn’t want to see the original Boy Wonder right now. 

He couldn’t go running to Dick anyways. 

He wasn’t Robin anymore. 

Jason knew that Dick would move hell and high water to get here as fast as he could for Tim. And, that made sense. Tim was Robin now. Dick would do anything for Robin. Well, Dick would do anything for Robin, now. When Jason was in the cape, Dick could barely look at him. He had stupidly assumed it was just because he was the first Robin and was uncomfortable seeing someone else in the costume. 

And hey, Jason got it! Really, he completely understood. It’s just… well Jason sometimes finds himself wishing that he got that same type of treatment. Afterall, Dick was always just so cool to Jason back then. It would’ve been nice to get even a quarter the attention that Tim get’s from the original Boy Wonder. 

Jason shakes his head, trying to physically dislodge the painful thoughts from his brain.

Oh well. 

It didn’t matter anymore. 

Jason was the Red Hood now and nothing would ever be okay between them again. 

No sense in dwelling on it. 

So, Jason threw his phone on the other side of the course 

Shaking his head free of his melancholy thoughts, he bent down to Tim’s level, taking care to telegraph his movements.  

Shaking his head free of his melancholy thoughts, he bent down to Tim’s level, taking care to telegraph his movements. 

“Hey Timmers,” Jason said awkwardly, hoping he sounded soothing and not deranged. He’s eighty percent sure that he is failing on that front. “We need to clean you up.” 

No reaction. 

Damn.  

“So, let's get you into the bath, okay?” 

Tim’s glassy eyes instantly met Jason's as he shot up from his slumped position

“Ba-bath?” Tim’s face had taken on a rosy flush and his eyes fluttered around the room, as if he couldn’t focus on one thing for too long. “Suppose that would make sense,” the teen slurred to himself. 

Jason froze. 

Now what the hell does that mean…? 

“Gotta be clean for it,” Tim nodded to himself as he began to stumble around Jason and to the bathroom. Green invaded Jason’s vision quicker than he could process his rage. Lighting flashed outside, briefly illuminating the low lit space. He was grateful that Tim was facing away from him because he was positive that his eyes were glowing at the moment. Meanwhile, Tim had continued to mumble justifications to himself on why he should be ‘clean for it’ . Subsequently, Jason’s brain was trying to think of a way to explain to Tim that he was not going to rape him while simultaneously fighting the urge to vomit into the kitchen sink and put his fist through the exposed brick wall of the kitchen.

Would that potentially break his hand?

Yes. 

But anything would be better than the swirl of emotions concaving his chest right now. 

“Buddy, you’re not my type,” Jason said, clearing his throat through gritted teeth, in lieu of anything actually comforting. He didn’t think he was going to get through to Tim right now anyways, so he might as well do what he can to get him warm and dry before the fever gets worse. 

Tim, in response, just froze. 

Oh, fuck, what now?!

The only sound that could be heard was the rain outside and the muffled sounds of the shower. 

“O-oh,” he said, his back to Jason. “Okay.” 

They were both still for a moment before Tim resumed his trek to the bathroom. 

“Okay,” Jason echoed back, dumbfounded. His jaw creaked from the pressure he was putting on it. Jason took a deep, steadying breath, willing the green to fade. He did not need Tim seeing him like this right now. 

It would just make everything worse, not that Jason probably wouldn’t make things worse all on his own; no pit madness required! 

In the amount of time it had taken Jason to calm down, Tim had managed to make his way to the bathroom, but he seemed to be stuck at the door for some reason. Jason, knowing what was probably going through the kids head right now, grimaced and made his way over to his room to grab some of his old sweats for Tim to change into after his shower. 

Jason, feeling utterly out of his depth, decided he just needed to act like everything was fine . If he just pretended like he hadn’t threatened to… to do that to Tim, then maybe he would catch onto it. And tomorrow, when he’s lucid, they could have an actual conversation and Jason could apologize till he was blue in the face. 

Jason raced by the bathroom, tossing the clothes to Tim.

“Wash up, Timbo!” Jason barked with an airy tone. Tim still seemed to be frozen in place. As a result, Jason elected to give him a gentle nudge into the bathroom before slamming the door. He didn’t want Tim to think he wanted to watch him shower or anything. However, he did wait by the bathroom for a few minutes until he headed rustling around to make sure that the kid wasn’t just dissociating in there. 

With that taken care of, Jason went back to his room and grabbed some spare blankets. Obviously Tim was going to take his bed, so Jason went to set up a place on the couch for the night. He also debated changing into sweats but ultimately decided against it. He didn’t really want to freak Tim out by changing into something that could be considered ‘bedroom’ clothes. Instead, he decided to just shrug off his holsters and hang them in the closet with his discarded helmet. 

He ran his hands through his hair tiredly, taking a moment to just breathe as he leaned against the doorframe to the closet. The door shielded him from view of the bathroom but he could hear the sound of bottles being moved around and took that as a good sign. 

Jason honestly can’t believe the events of the past hour. He feels himself start to get angry again as he thinks about the child traffickers and shuts down those lines of thought immediately. He pushed off the door frame, slamming the closet door and returning to the bedroom. 

The bedroom wasn’t much, the walls all bare save for the one side with exposed brick. A queen bed sat in the middle of the room, facing the brick wall. There was a small dresser shoved into the closet where Jason kept a couple pairs of spare clothes, both civilian and vigilante flavors. On the far side of the room, were two windows that had the blinds drawn. Despite this, lightning still could be seen flashing between the crack in the distance. 

Other than that, the room was completely empty. 

Jason instantly got to work on making the room more cozy, switching the sheets and arranging the pillows into a cocoon like formation with a perfect Tim sized hole in the middle. He also took the liberty of plugging in a space heater he had in the hall closet, knowing his heating was a bit shitty. 

Once he was satisfied with the bedroom, he returned to the kitchen, looking through his mostly bare cupboards with a sigh. Jason typically didn’t stay in one place too long so he never took the time to properly grocery shop. If he lived in an ideal world, Jason would have a fully stocked kitchen with various fancy applications. 

Jason loved to cook. 

Alfred ignited his passion for the culinary arts when he first moved into the manor and it really took off from there. Honestly though, Jason hadn’t indulge it in much since he-

Well, since he had come back. 

He shook away the memories that were clawing to the surface and resumed looking through his sparse pantry. 

Ultimately, Jason found some canned goods. 

A can of peas, some tuna, and three cans of chicken soup. 

Well, it looks like it was chicken soup for dinner. 

Jason wasted no time in grabbing two of the cans and grabbing the only pot he had in this safe house. He quickly lit a match, turning on the gas for the burner, and waited for it to catch. Once the burner was successfully on, Jason turned it to low.

He spent the next five minutes looking for a can opener before realizing that he didn’t own one and would just have to use a knife instead. Jason easily unsheathed a knife from his boot and stabbed the cans open. 

Satisfied with his work, he dumped both cans into the pot.

In no time, the soup was ready. Jason had also managed to at least find some salt and pepper to try and liven the flavor of the soup. 

Safe to say, it didn’t really work. 

But, beggars can’t be choosers. 

Just as Jason was pouring the soup into a bowl, for Tim, and a glass for himself, the newest robin emerged from the bathroom. 

“Hey their Timmers,” Jason called. “Soups on!” 

It was quite for a moment before the sound of soft footsteps made their way to the short walk to the kitchen. Tim emerged from around the corner only looking slightly better than when he had left to clean up. 

His hair, damp and messy, hung lowly in his eyes. There were dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were a light pink. Whether that was from a hot shower or fever, Jason wasn’t sure. He had the sudden urge to press the back of his hand to Tim’s forehead. Of course, he repressed the urge and instead just sat down Tim’s bowl on his dinky, wooden dining table. Luckily, he actually did have two chairs, one on each end. Jason strategically set Tim’s on the side that faced the rest of the apartment. This way, Tim could see everything and it would hopefully make him feel more secure. 

Tim eyed him warily as he came and sat down. He seemed a bit more aware of himself than before the shower. Jason had a feeling it wouldn’t last long though. There was still a slight sheen to his eyes. 

“I hope you’re okay with chicken soup,” Jason commented conversationally. “It was literally the only thing I had that would be good enough to be considered a meal.” 

Tim was quiet for a moment before trudging over to sit down. The sweats that Jason gave him were a bit long and dragged on the floor despite obviously being rolled up a few times. The shirt also hung off Tim’s smaller form awkwardly, settling at just above his knees.

“Soup is good,” Tim said simply, eyeing Jason's cup of soup with poorly hidden curiosity. “I-” he started before stopping himself. 

“It’s not poison if that’s what you're thinking,” Jason said, taking a guess at what the little bird was distressed over. 

“Oh, I know,” Tim responded. “I just d-don’t have a spoon.” 

“Oh.” Jason said dumbly. “My bad.” Jason fished a spoon out a drawer for Tim before settling back into his chair to enjoy his cup soup. “Wait, what do you mean you know it isn’t poisoned?” Jason exclaimed incredulously. 

“Well I-” Tim started before cutting himself off again with a flinch. 

“Spit it out, Timbo,” Jason sighed as he took a gulp of soup. It was mid at best, but it was food. 

“Poison isn't your style,” Tim said quietly, stirring his soup absentmindedly. There was a strange floaty quality to his voice, almost like he was talking but he wasn’t quite here. “You would just shoot or stab me or…” He trailed off, seemingly getting lost in his head. 

Jason had a feeling where it was going and he resisted the urge to vomit again. 

God, he really fucked up this time. 

But, there was no undoing it. 

All he could do was show Tim through actions that Jason meant him no harm. 

After some time, Tim had managed to take a few bites of soup before grimacing, yet his eyes were still far away. Jason couldn’t tell if the little idiot was dissociating again or if the fever was starting to pull him back under.

They ate in silence, the only sound being the occasional clink of Tim’s spoon against the bowl. Jason sipped his soup out of his mug, staring at Tim but trying not to make it obvious. He was just trying to watch for signs that the idiot was gonna bolt or break down again. After a few more minutes, Tim wasn’t eating anymore and was just staring into his half empty bowl. 

“Why are you doing this?” he asked Jason, voice barely above a whisper.

“Why…. am I feeding you? Jason asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yes.” Tim answered immediately, glassy eyes intense. “Why are you feeding me?” 

Jason, unsure what answer the kid was looking for, just shrugged in response. “I thought you might be hungry.” 

“Why would you care about me being hungry?” 

“What is this Replacement twenty question?” Jason snapped, cringing at his slip. 

Tim just looked at him intently. “The shower… that… that makes sense but feeding me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Jason swore under his breath. His grip on the table tightened, knowing what Tim was about to say. 

“What, you want me to have plenty of energy during the act or something?” Tim asked almost clinically. “There’s no other explanation and frankly I would prefer it if you just got it over with and dropped the stuipd fucking act.” 

Jason felt the table creak under his grip. 

Well, at least some of the kid’s familiar fire was back.

It was quite between the two for a moment, the rain providing a backdrop for the tension in the air.

Tim sighed, deflating, almost like the fight was seeping out of him again. “You know, It doesn’t matter anyways,” he mumbled dejectedly to himself. “Who am I to turn away kindness, no matter if it’s genuine or not.” 

Jason feels like he wasn’t suppose to hear that part but… what the fuck ???

“I’ll go easy like I said,'' Tim continued, the words pouring out now that he had started. “But do me a favor, okay?” He asked, giving Jason a cagey look. He shifted in the chair, swaying a bit. 

Just…. “ he tried, his voice dying in the back of his throat. He cringed, ducking his head. “I know this might be asking for too much,” he spit out after a beat, still not looking at Jason. Alarm bells started going off in the back of his head and Jason had a feeling he was not going to like what Tim was trying to say. “ But can you please not send me back to… to R-Ronaldo and put a bullet through my skull afterward because-”

Static immediately filled Jason's ears, a sharp ringing distantly growing louder.

He… he did not just ask Jason to… to kill him… right? 

Jason had to have misheard? What dumb idiot would fucking say that ?

“I’m sorry I know that’s asking for so much but it works out because you can kill me and I don’t have to back to-” 

Oh. 

Oh.

Jason flew up out of his seat, accidentally flipping the table over in the process as he turned around to face the window, Tim flinched back in response, his hands flying to protect his face. Jason could see his reaction in the reflection of the window. He cursed again. Jason’s eyes were glowing again and he did not want Tim to see them.  

“Can you…” Jason started, clearing his throat around the rage that was bubbling there. “Can you stop saying shit like that?” Jason growled. “I know I’m a shitty person but come on even you should know that I was-” 

“What?” Tim taunted. His voice was raspy and slightly frantic with panic and who knows what else. 

He was acting like a cornered rabbit trying to escape a wolf.

Jason felt sick for the millionth time since this whole ordeal started.

“Listen up you little idiot,” Jason ground out, squeezing his eyes shut. He was sure the green was seeping through his eyelids so he ducked his head down further. He was getting angry. Jason wasn’t angry at Tim per say, more so himself than anything, but the little idiot was starting to grate on his nerves. 

He fucked up. He knows he fucked up. But Tim needs to understand he was never going to rape him for fucks sake! 

He has to understand! 

Jason was not a good person but he wasn’t a fucking rapist. 

Tim has to understand!

Jason could feel his own heart rate rising as anger and fear pooled in his gut.

Jason didn’t want to hurt the kid again but he’d done it in the past and he didn’t trust himself not to do it again. The situation was already quickly devolving and his stuipd Pit problem was going to make it worse if he didn’t either remove himself from the situation or find a way to calm the hell down and-

“What's wrong Hood?” Tim asked. “Can’t face up to what you invest and enjoy in?” Tim spat hysterically, his horse voice making the words sound even harsher. 

Jason snapped, green completely overtaking his vision.

On instinct, he turned and punched the brick wall, yelling as he did so. His fist made a small dent, dust and small chips of brick went flying. His thoughts were so loud and bouncing around his skull and he wanted to fucking hurt someone.

His eyes flashed over to Tim, who was standing a few feet away, peeking through his arms that were still up around his face. 

It reminded Jason of himself, back before the pit and the Joker and living with Bruce. Back before he’d learned what it was like to actually be cared for. 

Back when his moms boyfriends would kick the shit out of him for so much as breathing in his direction and his mom would overdose every other week and he’d have to resort to giving it up for old sleazebags just to put food on the table and… and…and-

Jason breathed in and out through his nose, trying to mimic some of the shitty breathing exercises he had read about when he’d finally fought off through the pit haze of the first six months. 

“Ja-Jason,” Tim rasped, his voice shaky. 

Jason ignored him.

He knew he was probably scaring the kid shitless right now but it was either that or Jason might get even more triggered and lose control of himself. And he didn’t want that, he really didn’t want that. 

But the pit and Jason’s own thoughts were threatening to drown him if he didn’t hurt someone now .

He looked back over at a shaking Tim, knowing how easily he could hurt him. He was so small, too small really, and he was sick and weak.

It would be so easy .

The thought made him sick. 

‘No more dead Robins’

 Jason cried out, slamming his other fist into the wall this time.

If it came to hurting Tim or hurting himself, Jason was going to pick the latter every time. 

‘No more dead Robins’

He punched the wall again, relishing the way he felt the pain radiate up to his shoulder. It gave him something to focus on other than the roaring in his ears and the poisoning sludge of thoughts in his head.

‘No more dead Robins’

Then he did it again. 

And again. 

And again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Jason isn’t sure how long he was like that, lost in his own anger and rage. When he came back to himself there was a huge, bloodied, dented hole in the wall and his knuckles were sore and painted red. He blinked a couple times, the last remnants of green swirling at the edges of his vision before thankfully fizzling out. 

He sighed, leaning up against the wall, supporting himself with his forearms above his head, as he tried to catch his breath. 

Jason's thoughts were finally quiet, no more than a faint buzz at the back of skull.

After a few moments, he caught the sound of faint mumbling. Still supporting himself on the wall, he turned his head trying to locate the source of the sound. 

A few feet away, huddled up against the back of the couch, was Tim. He was curled into himself, slightly rocking back and forth, his hands covering his ears and his head tucked into himself. Soft words tumbled from his raw, chapped lips.

Jason swore internally. 

Not only did he freak the kid out, again , he also damaged his wall. 

He was really striking out here.

Jason pushed his self deprecating thoughts away and rushed over, guilt hitting him like a speeding truck as he got closer and could make out the words being said.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Tim chanted over and over as he rocked back and forth. The chant was punctuated with a few ‘I’ll be good’ ’s. 

Jason knelt down beside the panicking bird, reaching out to touch him before he thought better of it.

Ah, dammit.  

 He could feel heat radiating off the kid even without touching him and Jason knew that his fever had spiked again. 

Shit.  

“Tim,” Jason said softly, cringing when the kid didn’t react. “Tim, it’s okay, you’re safe,” he added, the words feeling phony. Jason just had to demolish his wall so he didn’t demolish the kid, so he wasn’t feeling optimistic at the moment. “I’m not going to hurt you, I'm sorry for freaking out,” he tried with a sigh. 

Still nothing.

He groaned to himself, running his bloodied hand through his hair. He’d wash the blood out later. 

“Listen little bird,” he started, not expecting a response. “I need to get you to bed. So I’m going to have to touch you.” 

Nothing, again. 

Tim just kept rocking and muttering. 

Whelp, here goes nothing. 

Jason wiped what blood he could off on his pants. He was suddenly very grateful he hadn’t changed out of his Red Hood gear.

“Please don’t freak out,” Jason pleaded to himself more than anything as he slowly wrapped his arms around Tim’s small, shaking form and scooped him up. 

Jason was half hoping that Tim would start kicking and screaming and trying to fight him off or something. At least then it would mean that Tim was at least semi aware of his surroundings. But the kid just slightly stiffened in his hold and continued mumbling. 

Jason quickly rushed him to the bedroom, wrapping him up in the cocoon that he had prepared for him earlier. Tim slightly whined as Jason worked, seemingly confused. Once that was done, Jason elected to try and dig a thermometer from his meager medical supplies in the bathroom. He had been meaning to stock up on supplies for this safe house but kept putting it off. 

He’s kicking himself for it now. 

Stuipd, dumb, bastard ass ‘past Jason’. 

What a fucking idiot!

He would kick his own ass if he could. 

Jason finally located the shitty thermometer he had and raced back to the bedroom. Tim was now quiet, thank God, but violently shivering instead and staring off into space. He stuck the thermometer into the kid’s mouth and pressed the button. While he waited, he went to fetch a bowl of cool water and a rag from the kitchen. Just as he got back, the thermometer beeped three times in a row, signaling a fever. 

He swore to himself as he went and plucked the device from Tim’s mouth. 

102.5. 

Dammit.

He set down the bowl and rag, wetting it and wringing it out before placing it on Tim’s forehead. His glassy eyes stared unseeingly at Jason as he did so. 

“Mom…” Tim slurred as he struggled slightly against the blankets Jason had wrapped him in. “Mom, I'm sorry,” He added. 

Oh christ. 

Jason needed to get this fever down and fast. 

He turned on his heels, intending to fetch some Tylenol when Tim’s hand shot up and caught his wrist in a death grip. “P-please, please don’t leave me again,” he whispered. “Don’t wanna be alone…” 

A surge of protectiveness washed over Jason. 

“Shhh,” Jason shushed, running his hand through Tim’s sweaty locks. “I’ll be back in a second.” 

He gently removed Tim’s hand before racing back to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to grab the Tylenol. 

Luckily, they weren’t expired. 

So, he made a quick pit stop to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and one of the kitchen chairs, and rushed back to Tim. The little bird was half asleep, slumped into the blankets, when Jason got back. He placed the kitchen chair next to the bed before coaxing Tim to take the two tablets and held the glass to his lips till he drank and swallowed the meds. 

Tim whined softly, his breathing a little too fast for Jason's liking, once again struggling against the blankets. 

“Shhh,” Jason whispered, rewetting the now warm rag and placing it back on his head. Jason may be a useless asshole, but one thing he knew how to do was take care of sick people. He took care of his mom often enough to be confident in his abilities on that front. “Everything is going to be okay.” Thunder softly rumbled in the distance, the storm no longer directly overhead. “I’m going to look after you from now on,” Jason promised. “I’m sorry for what I did to you.”

“S’okay, mom,” Tim slurred, his eyes unfocused. “was my fa-fault.” 

Jason furrowed his eyebrows as he listened to the kid’s ramblings. Poor Bird probably doesn't even know what he is saying. 

“S’always my fault.” Tim went on, his eyes heavily lidded. “I-I know it was my-” Tim somehow fell asleep in the sentence, leaving Jason wondering just exactly what he was going to say. 

He frowned, not liking the flush that had taken a firm root on Tim’s cheeks. He rewet and wrung out the rag again. He felt Tim’s forehead with the back of his hand but replaced the rag. Even with the cool water, Tim’s forehead was still burning up. 

It was safe to say that Jason would be getting very little sleep tonight. 

So, Jason spent the rest of the night sitting by Tim’s bedside periodically checking his temperature and replacing the rag and water. He wanted to make sure the fever didn’t get any higher. 

At some point, he must have dozed off in the chair because he found himself jolting awake at an undetermined time. His heart rate was high for some reason, alarm bells going off in the back of his head. Jason scanned the room, on high alert. The only thing he saw was Tim’s motionless form and the clock on the bedside table blinking 2:04 a.m. at him. 

Huh, power must have gone out for a second at some point while he was asleep. He felt around for his phone, only to come up empty. 

Damn, he must have left it in the kitchen. 

He heaved himself out of the chair, his back protesting at the uncomfortable position that it had been in. Jason leaned over Tim, feeling his forehead with the back of his hand. The kid shifted a bit at the contact, leaning in slightly. 

Luckily, Tim felt cooler than before. 

He was still feverish, but Jason guessed he was more in the 100 range now. Jason breathed a sigh of relief, straightening himself out. He resisted the urge to adjust the blankets around Tim’s small frame and shuffled out into the hallway. 

He wasn’t sure why he woke up, maybe some nightmare he couldn’t remember or maybe Tim cried out a bit. Jason wiped at his eyes as he felt around for the light switch and flipped the lights on in the hallway. He squinted against the bright lights, feeling around a bit at the wall to guide him towards his designation. 

Somewhere else in the apartment, the floor creaked, sending Jason on high alert again. His heart leapt, his eyes trying to adjust to the light, as more movement alerted him to the presence of someone else.

Before he could react, he blamed the slow reaction time on his grogginess and emotional exhaustion from the events of the past few hours, he felt himself be roughly slammed into a wall by his collar. 

He groaned, squinting at the figure boxing him into the wall. 

Oh, great. 

Of course it would be him.  

Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing, in the flesh. 

Just.

perfect.  

Chapter Text

“Fancy meeting you here,”  Jason drawled with a smirk. “ Dick .” 

“Where is he?” Dick asked lightly, his tone conflicting with his serious expression. He always was a performer. And now was no different. Water droplets clung to his soaked hair, dripping down his face. In the background, Jason spotted one of the living room windows open, the shabby curtain blowing gently in the wind. A steady, but gentle, rain could be heard through the open window.

It was still dark outside, but the first rays of sun were starting to lighten up the sky into a deep purple instead of a pitch black. Jason isn’t really sure how Dick weaseled his way past the copious security measures that Jason has. But, he wasn’t exactly shocked by this. 

“Where’s who?” Jason, for some god forsaken reason, asked. 

“Ah, don’t play games Hood,” Dick responded airily with a raise of his right eyebrow. “We both know exactly who I'm talking about.” 

“Huh,” Jason said, faux confusion contorting his features. “Nothing’s really coming to mind I can’t say-”

“ Dammit , Jason,” Dick swore before roughly releasing him and turning around in a flurry of movement. He paced a few times, pinching the bridge of his nose. His other hand, wrapped around his midsection, tapped out an indiscernible beat on his side. The acrobat was always moving in some way or another. 

It’s gotta be a circus brat thing. 

He’s been like that as long as Jason has known him, always fidgeting one way or another.

It was fucking annoying more times than not. 

“Just,” Dick started, barely restrained anger in his tone. “Please tell me you didn’t-” 

“Didn’t what?” Jason taunted, a glint in his eyes, knowing exactly what was about to leave Dick’s mouth. He isn’t sure how Dick knows, but Jason knows that he knows. He can see it in the hard line of his mouth and the glint in his eye. Dick knows what he did. But fucking honestly, what right did Dick Grayson have to judge him…? 

Mr. High and Mighty needs to get off his high horse. 

 His stomach turned again at the implication. He wanted to deny the accusation. He wanted to explain that it was just a ploy and he would never do that . But for some reason, seeing Dick was bringing up old wounds. He couldn’t separate what he was feeling at the moment and what were old resentments or poisonous thoughts from the pit. 

He was getting angry again .

“Just-” Dick said, his voice cracking. He took a deep breath before turning back to Jason, expression diplomatically blank. Jason recognized it as a common face he would pull at Gala’s when he was displeased with the conversation. “Just tell me you didn’t do what you said.” 

For some reason, it stung that Dick would even ask him that. 

Granted, the line of questioning makes sense. Jason would ask the same if the situations were reversed. 

And he knows he’s done some pretty fucked up shit since coming back. But, come on!

Dick should know him better than that! 

Not to mention that he isn’t even sure how Dick found out about Jason’s bird napping so fast. The devil works hard but Dick Grayson connections work harder apparently.

“Seems to me that you already have decided on an answer,” Jason snapped back with a sneer. 

“If that was true,” Dick started with a glare. “We wouldn’t be standing here chit chatting.” 

“Oh you think you can take me on, Big Bird?” Jason challenged, picking up on the unsaid threat. “I’d love to see you try .” 

Jason is well aware of the fact that they are both pretty evenly matched in combat. Jason may have strength, copious amounts of guns, and League Training on his side, but Dick has agility, speed, and over a decades worth of experience.

It was a toss up on a good day. And, safe to say that this wasn’t exactly a day that Jason would describe as ‘good’.

“Dammit, Jason, just answer the question,” Dick snapped, all teeth.

“And what are you going to do if you don’t like my answer?” Jason says before he can stop himself. Apparently he just loves putting his foot in his mouth. “Big Bad Bat’s no kill rule gives me a distinct advantage, doesn't it?”

“I’m not Batman,” Dick said darkly.

Huh, seems Jason hit a nerve.

Good.

“You act like you’re the only one who's ever gotten his hands dirty!” Dick retorted, his mask slipping as an ugly expression twisted his features.

A big ole nerve at that!

Excellent.

“Oh, what’d you do?” Jason asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes and gesturing wildly as he got up in Dick’s face. “Hit someone over the head a little too hard and forget to apologize?” 

Dick was eerily quiet for a moment, and funnily enough, utterly still. Yet, he stood his ground, simply titling his intense gaze up at Jason. The behavior would’ve worried Jason if he actually gave a shit about the original Boy Wonder wellbeing. While some small part of Jason still desperately craved Nightwing’s approval, a bigger part of him couldn’t forget the way Dick treated him before his death.

He was just a kid, right around Tim’s age. 

All he’d wanted was a big brother. 

All he’d wanted was a family! 

All he’d wanted was to be loved!

And yet-

And yet, Jason wasn’t worth it to Dick. 

Not then and not now. 

So much for Jason’s childhood hero.

“You really have no idea,” Dick said, breaking the silence. He chuckled to himself, almost sadly, breaking Jason away from his thoughts. Subsequently, he fixed Jason with a hard look. “I’d do anything to protect those that I love,” Dick said after a beat, almost casually. “You put together the pieces, Hood .” 

And, really, that phrase shouldn’t have stung as much as it did. Jason knows that Dick is fiercely protective of his family. 

It's just… a painful reminder that Jason doesn’t fall under that category. He couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about Jason before or after he died. But Tim, his damn Replacement, had somehow wormed his way into Dick’s good graces in less than half the time that Jason was Robin.

Jason, despite the mounting pressure in his chest, let a Cheshire smile stretch across his lips. 

“You never answered my question, Dick. ” Jason spat in lieu of a response. “What are you going to do if you don’t like my answer?” 

Dick was silent. 

Jason felt anger surge up the back of his throat. 

So, Big Bird would kill for the newest model. Yet, he couldn’t even be bothered to go Jason's own fucking funeral…? 

What a complete fucking joke . 

If he had any semblance of thought that wasn’t tinted with rage, he would’ve noticed the reflection of his glowing, green eyes in the windows. 

Maniacal laughter echoed in Jason’s ears. 

“What if,” Jason said, watching himself wreck the conversation with a strange detachment. “I enjoy-”

He was cut off by a swift punch to the mouth. Jason jolted to the side slightly, only on the account of being caught by surprise, his hulking frame barely slouching from the punch despite the force put behind it. 

Jason slowly turned his head back towards Dick, darting his tongue across his lip only to taste copper. 

One thing about Dick Grayson is that he is stronger than he looks. 

The two just stared at each other for a moment, the silence stretching on in both directions. 

In a flurry of motion, Jason went to return a punch of his own, only to be easily redirected by Nightwing and shoved to the side. Jason easily recovered and used his free hand to grab Nightwing's wrist in a crushing grip and toss him down the hallway towards the living room. 

The older man used the momentum of the throw to easily go into roll before springing up gracefully. 

He gave Jason a playful smirk, which only served to piss him off even more. 

Jason ran down the hallway, faking a punch to his right but then going left instead. Nightwing, always quick on his feet, quickly caught onto the feint and twisted to the side, Jason as a result only grazed him with his bruising punch instead of landing a direct hit. 

“You’re really starting to piss me off birdy,” Jason growled as he went to sweep out Nightwing’s legs from under him. And of course, the lithe idiot had to jump over the leg sweep and then go into the freaking splits before returning a leg sweep of his own. 

Jason dodged the move, going for another punch. 

Dick anticipated the punch and was already flipping up from his position on the ground. As Jason approached, Dick managed to land a hit to his stomach. Jason, knowing how strong Dick’s legs are, was expecting to lose his breath at the very least and get some broken ribs at worst. 

And yet, it felt more like a love tap than anything. 

Of course, this only pissed off Jason even more because that meant that Dickface was pulling punches. 

So, what…? 

Now Jason wasn’t even worth Dick’s full effort…?

He yelled, angry that the stuipd idiot was obviously toying with him. Green crept into his vision as he locked onto Dick’s form in the dimly lit apartment. 

Jason would show Dick that he was worth a real fight.

It was time to end this.  

The pair went blow for blow for a few quick minutes. Jason landing a few, and Dick landing a few. At one point, Nightwing went for another kick and this time Jason caught his leg. Not one to waste an opportunity, he tossed Dick over the couch. He landed on the coffee table, the legs giving out under his weight. Jason advanced on Dick, pulling his knife out from his boot on instinct. It was like he was operating on muscle memory alone. The only thing he could focus on was the pounding of his heart and the roaring in his ears.

“Real classy Hood,” Dick snipped as he scrambled to his feet and dodged a swipe that Jason took at him. The next thirty seconds or so was a repeat of that, the two maneuvering into the kitchen as they went.

Jason growled, going for another swipe that Dick weaved around before trying to hit a pressure point in his wrist to make him drop the knife. Lucky for Jason, Talia would do this all the time to him when he was training with the League and he instinctively moved away from the move, shoving Dick with his shoulder as he did so.

The original boy wonder made a noise of surprise, trying to right himself before he completely lost his balance. Jason took advantage of the slip and body slammed him into the kitchen table. The dishes from earlier went flying to the ground, shattering. Dick made an attempt to get up but Jason slung him off the table and onto the ground. Dick rolled to his stomach and quickly hopped up, taking a purely defensive stance.

“Stop fucking around!” Jason yelled.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dick responded slyly. 

“Stop pulling your punches and fight me!” Jason ordered, fury radiating off him in waves.

The next thing he knew, his kitchen table was overturned, his knife was discarded on the floor, and he was slamming Dick into the brick wall, his head cracking up against it. A strangle groan slipped out, dazed as he scrambled at Jason’s grip on the collar of his gray hoodie. 

“Jas-”

Jason could tell he was trying to go for pressure points again so he smacked his head into the wall again for good measure. This time Dick didn’t make a sound but did wince as the back of his head connected with the brick. He slightly wilted in Jason’s grip.

“Nice try,” he taunted. “But you’re going to have to try better than-” 

An ear shattering scream cuts Jason off. 

What the hell…? 

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was Dick’s harsh breathing.

Another scream broke Jason out of the trance he was in, cutting through the allure of the pit. 

Shit.

Tim!

 He immediately dropped Dick, who crumbled against the wall, turned on his heel and booked it to the bedroom. He could hear footsteps not far behind him, signaling that Dick was hot on his heels.

His mind was racing a mile a minute. 

What if those assholes had tracked them down? 

What if they were hurting Tim again?  

What if.. 

What if it was-

Jason’s heart stuttered in his chest as he rounded the hallway corner. He was expecting to have to fight some assholes off Tim, but when Jason got to his room, all he saw was Tim on the bed. 

He was momentarily confused until the kid let out another scream and thrashed violently against the blankets.

By the time Dick had caught up to Jason, Tim had aborted his screaming. But he was still thrashing widely, entangled in the copious amount of blankets that Jason had wrapped him with hours earlier.

“Please,” Tim whined softly, his voice high and breathy. “Please, no!” He shouted hoarsely

Jason’s chest clenched at the sight and he quickly rushed over to Tim’s bedside, cursing as he went. 

“His fever must have spiked again,” Jason noted to himself. “Dammit.” 

“Stop, please, stop,” Tim sobbed, desperation lining his tone.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason said softly as he kneeled down by the bed. “It’s okay,” he tried.

Jason gently laid his hand against Tim’s forehead, noting that it was fairly warm again. 

Dammit.

Just when Jason thought his fever was going to break it just had to go and spike again!

The rag he had placed on Tim’s forehead before Jason had nodded off was intertwined with some of the blankets. Jason quickly snatched it up before dipping it in the bowl of water on his nightstand and placed it gently back on Tim’s head. The water was definitely room temperature now, but Jason had to work with what he had. 

He didn’t dare leave the room while the kid was in this state. He could accidentally hurt himself or something.

Tim flinched in his sleep, crying out again. “I’ll be- I’ll be good,” he mumbled. “I swear Mo-!”

He jerked, tossing and turning as he wrestled with his nightmare. “Just please stop and I’ll-”

“Shhh,” Jason shushed, brushing his hair back. “It’s okay, Timbo.” He added. “Everything is okay and you’re safe.”

Tim cried out a few more times, making Jason’s heart jump each time, before finally somewhat settling.

Jason kept running his hands through Tim’s dark, sweaty locks, remembering how he used to love when his mom and Bruce did this for him when he was sick at Tim’s age.

Tim whined softly, looking like he might start up again, before leaning into the touch and finally settling back down into a fitful sleep with a small huff.

Jason sighed in relief, letting his head fall onto the mattress, his hand still softly stroking Tim’s hair. “Everything’s okay,” he repeated, more to himself than to Tim. “Everything is okay.” 

Jason had of course heard Tim scream before. Back in Titans Tower, he’d made it a game to see how many times he could make the little bird sing. To his credit, Tim hadn’t really broken till the end. At the time Jason had been bitter about that little tidbit. However, in light of recent events, he’s grateful he doesn’t have more memories of Tim’s screams to echo in his head. Regardless, It wasn’t like this was a new sound or anything. But… things were different now. 

Safe to say, it wasn’t a sound that he wanted to hear again anytime soon.

Jason spent another moment, just breathing and letting the adrenaline run its course before raising his head and getting up. 

Jason turned to see a Dick leaning up against the doorway, arms crossed and a small smirk tugging at his mouth. His dark blue eyes were scanning the room knowingly. 

“Well, I guess this answers my question,” he said softly. He glanced at the chair next to Tim’s bedside and the various items on the nightstand. 

“Does it?” Jason asked apprehensively, as he turned back around to adjust Tim’s blankets around him. 

Dick sighed in response, lowering his head. “I think we should talk.”

“That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?” Jason snapped as he turned back around to finish tending to Tim. He was suddenly very aware that Dick was watching him. It sent a chill up his spine and he had to resist the urge to round on the older man like a caged dog. 

“I mean actually talk, Jason.” 

It was Jason’s turn to sigh. 

“Whatever,” he grumbled as he turned on his heels and stalked past Dick, shoulder chucking him on the way out just to show that he wasn’t going down without at least a little defiance. Jason expected Dick to just slightly adjust his weight and take the bump in stride. However, the Big Bird was more unsteady on his feet than Jason thought and instead he tipped backwards. 

On instinct alone, Jason reached out and steadied him, Dick’s hand going to Jason’s forearm to further stabilize himself. 

“Whoops,” Dick chuckled, a grin tugging at his lips. He cleared his throat, clapping Jason gently on the back with his other shoulder. “Clumsy me.” 

Jason eyed the older man, taking note of his slightly glassy gaze. 

“We should let Tim get his rest,” Dick added with an inclination of his head. 

“Yeah…” Jason agreed as he tried to figure out why Dick was suddenly acting off. “Living room,” he grunted before stalking down the hall. 

Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t like Jason cared!

He shook his head at the thought, knowing that he was just lying to himself. Unlike Tim, he knew Dick before he died. Before… well before he’d become whatever thing he was now. And he’d loved Dick back then, worshiped him really, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual. 

Even with the pit poisoning his mind and all the lingering animosity between them after everything that’s happened, Jason Todd would always care about Dick Grayson, despite what he tried to tell himself. 

Jason made his way into the living room, stalking over to his ajar window before slamming it closed. There was water on the peeling windowsill, the shitty white paint flaking that was flaking off now sticking to the exposed wood beneath. 

“Ya know,” Jason called. “The least you could’ve done is close my window after you broke in!” He closed the curtains too, although they didn’t do much. Not that they really needed to with the sun being hidden behind all the rain clouds. Regardless, the sky was lighter than when Dick had arrived and Jason felt much safer talking to Dick under the cover of darkness. The light of day tended to make things too real for comfort.  

“In my defense,” Dick said as he sank onto the couch unceremoniously. “I was a bit preoccupied.” 

“Oh yeah of course,” Jason snarked. “Had to save defenseless little Tim from the big bad Hood.” He turned around, looking at his destroyed coffee table in annoyance, barely restraining a huff.  

“You owe me a new coffee table, Dickhead,” Jason added gruffly. 

“You’re the one who threw me into it!” Dick exclaimed with a snort. “It's not my fault that you don’t have high quality furniture.” 

“Ah yes,” Jason replied sarcastically. “My apologies for not still having access to my trust fund.” He rolled his eyes, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa from Dick. “Turns out being legally dead has some downsides!” 

Dick winced at his joke, or maybe the volume of the joke…? Either way, he looked momentarily uncomfortable before smoothing out his expression. 

“Can you-” Dick started before shaking his head and wincing again. It was so slight that Jason almost missed it in the dim light of the room. “Nevermind.” 

Jason narrowed his eyes, taking stock of the older man. 

He had on a plain outfit, gray hoodie and wore blue jeans with some beat up sneakers, and his hair was still damp and clung to his neck in the back from his escapades in the rain. The shorter pieces in the front were frizzing up though, giving Jason a good view of the Dick’s face. Besides some slight swaying as he sat, he looked perfectly normal and unassuming. A random beat was being tapped out on his left thigh by his right index and middle finger.

He looked like the exact opposite of a hero. 

Dick looked normal; unassuming really.

“Jesus, can you just spit out what you’re going to say,” Jason grumbled, rubbing his face with his hands a couple times. “I do not have the patience for-” 

“It’s nothing,” Dick insisted with one of his Gala smiles. 

“You’re the one who wanted to talk, asshole!” Jason barked before he could think better of it, his temper getting the best of him. “So fucking talk or fucking leave !” 

Dick cocked his head, seemingly studying Jason for a moment. 

“This is about you and Tim,” Dick said carefully, clasping his hands together and leaning forward before playing with his hands idly. “There’s a time and a place for everything, okay?” 

What the fuck is he talking about? 

“Can you stop being such a martyr for five seconds,” Jason groaned. “But whatever!” 

Dick just raised his eyebrow and grinned as he leaned back into the cushions. “I don’t know what you mean.” His voice was soft and teasing but Jason knew that there was something more lurking beneath the surface.

Jason took several calming breaths, resisting the urge to throw Dick into a wall again. 

“Okay, Big Bird,” Jason relented. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

Dick snorted, inclining his head slightly. “So, what happened, Jay?” 

The use of the old nickname stopped Jason in his tracks. 

No one has called him that in a long time. 

He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. 

If Dick noticed his internal dilemma, he didn’t show it. It was Dick though, so of course he probably knew. The fucker could read people like a book. 

“I’ve been tracking a child trafficking ring for a while now,” Jason started, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. This conversation would be easier if he didn’t have to look at Dick. “I was posing as a potential customer-” He took a glance at Dick despite his reservations, unable to help himself. To his credit, Big Bird had his face carefully neutral and appeared to be listening intently. “They were out of towners, Ronaldo's crew from Star City I think,” He interjected.

“That tracks,” Dick chimed in. “It was smart to use their ignorance of your reputation to your advantage.”

Jason, unused and surprised at the casual praise, cleared his throat awkwardly and pointedly not looking at Dick. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess so,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. 

“So, you were posing as a potential buyer,” Dick said, smoothly carrying the awkward bump in the conversation into smoother waters. “What next?” 

“Well, I had set up the meeting and everything,” He continued. “But when I got there...”

“They had Robin,” Dick guessed. 

“Yeah,” He confirmed with a nod. “They had roughed him up a bit and-” Suddenly it hit Jason that he hadn’t so much as check Tim for a concussion. 

God, he was such an idiot. 

“And what?” Dick promptly gently. 

Jason had just assumed the little fucker would tell him if and where he was hurt and then by the time he realized that Tim was terrified of him, Jason was too caught up in mitigating that and making sure his brain wasn’t frying like an egg to-. 

“Jason,” Dick said forcefully. 

The tone snapped Jason out of his head and he jolted slightly. 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry I just…” he started, clearing his throat again. “I just realized that I didn’t really check him over for injuries.”

“I see,” Dick said, nodding, more to himself than to Jason. “We’ll check him over once he wakes up. From what B says, Tim isn’t very forthcoming when he’s injured.”

“Stuipd kid,” Jason grumbled under his breath. “Not exactly surprising though; Classic Bat behavior.” 

Dick chuckled. “That it is.” The older man was quiet for a moment. “Ya know, he’s not suppose to be out patrolling alone right now so I don’t-” 

“Because of me, right?” Jason interjected before he could stop himself. He resisted the urge to cringe at his own words.

Because yeah , let's remind Dick that Jason tried to kill his little brother, good going Jason!

Dick nodded solemnly, his face contorting at the motion briefly before smoothing back into his normal expression. 

Jason took stock of him again, confused at the odd reaction. 

“Yeah,” Dick confirmed softly. “Batman he-” Dick cut himself off. “Well, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Cut it out!” Jason snapped forcefully, surprising himself, his volume louder than intended. 

Dick winced, ducking his head slightly. “Time and place, Jason,” he tried to remind him softly. 

And that's the thing, the idiot keeps talking all soft to Jason like he was some wild animal. 

It was sickening .

“We’re talking about me and Tim, right?” Jason retorted. “So, I think Titans Tower is perfectly in line with the conversation!” 

“Can you not talk so loud ple -” 

“I’ll talk as loud as I damn please,” Jason roared, jumping to his feet. “You’re the one that broke into my apartment, remember?”

Dick was silent for a beat, looking like he was trying to catch up with the conversation. His eyes were slightly squinted, brow furrowed.

“N-no Jason, that's not-” 

“Don’t pussyfoot around what happened, Dick!” Jason yelled, something tightening in his chest. There was a single, frustrating moment where he tried to golf the storm back, rescue this conversation from the tsunami of crap he was about to unleash. But once something is out of the bottle, you can very rarely shove it back in without some additional damages.

“I’m a danger to him and everyone around me Dick, you included!” 

“ Jay - 

“You know it, I know it, Batman knows it, and Tim sure as shit knows it!”

“Jason-”

“I tried to kill him!” Jason said, his heart jackhammering in his chest, the weight of his actions finally crashing down on him after all this time. “I-I tried to kill a kid!” It was like now that the dam had cracked, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “You were right to come in here guns blazing,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I-I’m not safe to be around.” He turned away, ashamed that he was unloading on Dick like this but unable to stop. 

Dick doesn’t give a shit about him, the only reason he’s here is Tim and Jason knows that! He does, he swears!

But… 

Sometimes it’s nice to pretend. 

It’s nice to pretend that Dick is the big brother he wished he had as a kid. 

It’s stuipd. 

He’s stuipd. 

Jason accepted long ago they would never have that kind of relationship and yet here he was burdening Dick with his crap and-

“Jason, stop-” Dick tried, stumbling to his feet and putting a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. 

“No you wanted me to talk so shut the fuck up and let me talk!” He shouted, aggressively moving his shoulder away from Dick and turning back to face him. 

Dick looked pale and was swaying slightly. 

He was probably disgusted with Jason. 

And hell, he should be! 

He had every damn right to be! 

But.. it still stung . 

“There’s something wrong with me, man,” Jason went on. “I-” he laughed self-deprecatingly. “You want to know what I did to get Tim out of there?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer, bulldozing on. 

“I said I would buy him!” Jason admitted, borderline hysterical. “I said I would fucking buy him, Dick.” 

He let his confession hang in the air, his chest heaving, before the word vomit took over again. 

“I said I would buy him and when he tried to protest, cause the kid’s freaking smart and knew it was a ploy, I pulled my gun on him and I fucking put it to his head and I- and I- and I said-” 

It was at this point that Jason realized that he was hyperventilating. 

The realization seemed to only make him panic more because he was openly panicking in front of Dick and-

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dick said softly, his eyes glassy. “Breathe,” he mumbled, as he guided Jason to sit back on the couch and put his head between his legs. “Deep breaths, Little Wing.” 

The old nickname crumbled whatever pride and dignity Jason had left. 

Jason was suddenly very grateful for Dick’s soft tone because if he started yelling right now, Jason is sure that he would shake apart.

“It’s okay,” Dick whispered as he ran his hand up and down Jason’s back. “I’m here.” 

The tears came rushing down his face before Jason could even process what was happening. 

Dick kept rubbing his back soothingly, seemingly content to let Jason cry. 

It was simultaneously cathartic and embarrassing. 

But in some strange way, it was also…. nice…?

After what could have been minutes or hours, Jason looked up, expecting to see Dick hovering above him. Instead, Dick was sitting next to the couch, leaning heavily against it as he did some sort of breathing exercise of his own. Sensing his movement, Dick cracked his eyes open, looking up from where he had laid his head on his arms. 

“Hey,” he said, voice still soft. “Feel better?” 

Jason considered the question. 

The weight that had been on his chest, for who knows how long, had lightened. It was still there, and it probably won’t ever fully go away, but it wasn’t suffocating him anymore. 

So, yes. 

He did feel better. 

Jason nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He could feel lingering shakes from his anxiety attack making their way down his arms. 

“Okay,” Dick said, still looking up at Jason. “I think I understand what happened, so correct me if I’m wrong, okay?” 

Jason nodded again. 

Dick smiled at him, seemingly pleased with the response. He carefully took Jason's hand, placing it on his own wrist. Jason went to jerk it away, not wanting to taint Dick with his filth but the older man held him in place. “Just-” he cleared his throat, blinking owlishly a few times, almost as if he was trying to get his bearings. “Just squeeze my wrist once if things get to be too much again and twice if it’s okay to keep going, okay?” 

Jason shook his head, going to retract his hand again, but Nightwing held him steady. 

“I know you probably don’t have the energy for talking right now,” he started. “So, we need a system for if you start to slip again, okay?” 

Jason considered his words. 

It… did make sense. 

“You can let go right after,” Dick promised. “I know I’m more fond of contact than you are so, if this really makes you uncomfortable just-” 

Jason shook his head, firmly squeezing Dick’s hand twice.

“Okay, so” Dick began. “You were in a hard situation, right?” 

Jason gave Dick’s wrist two quick squeezes. 

“And sometimes in hard situations,” he continued quietly. “We have to make hard choices; sometimes choices that we know aren’t the best.” 

Another two squeezes. 

“And sometimes, those choices can backfire and we make mistakes-”

Jason jerked at the word mistake, causing Dick to pause for a moment, watching Jason with fixed pupils. 

“But, at the time you worked with what you had and in the end you accomplished your goal,” Dick went on after a beat. “Tim is alive and Tim is safe .”  

Another two tentative squeezes. 

Dick smiled sadly at the stalled response. “It’s okay to make mistakes, you know,” he added. “It’s a part of being human.” 

“I-in what world is almost killing Tim,” Jason started, forcing the words out despite how much his throat constricted around them. “And then putting a gun to his head wh-while I implied that I’m going to sexually assault him, a forgivable mistake, Dick.” 

His throat felt tight, like there was a ball of concrete settled deep in his esophagus. 

“I didn’t say it was forgivable per say,” Dick corrected, causing Jason to jolt again. “I said it was a mistake and that sometimes at the time, mistakes seem like our only option to accomplish our goals.” 

Jason squeezed his hand twice again, harder this time as a swirl of emotions rose in his chest. His eyes were wet as he ducked his head in shame. 

“So Jason,” Dick said almost casually. “What were your goals?” 

He isn’t sure if Dick is referring to today or back at the Tower. 

Today Jason knew he didn’t want Tim to die. He can say that with a hundred percent certainty. 

No more dead Robins.

But, back at the Tower…. He isn’t sure what was going through his head. He was angry. He knows that. He was so fucking angry that Bruce had gone and put another kid through the death sentence that is being Robin. He was angry that he had been fucking replaced !

If it was just those emotions alone, maybe…. maybe he wouldn’t have tried to do what he did. But, the Pit… he thinks it amplifies everything. Makes his head foggy when his mind can’t handle the reality that his body is partaking in. 

It has to be that. 

He has no other explanation for why he did what he did.

No more dead Robins.

How does he explain all that to Dick without thinking he’s making excuses…? 

It sounds like a fucking cop out!

Before Jason would have never been capable of what he does now. 

He’s… warped. 

A broken mirror haphazardly thrown back together. 

Of course it gets the job done, but it will never be as good as an unbroken mirror. 

It will never be the same. 

He will never be the same. 

Jason looks back up at Dick, a few tears wetting his check. 

He took a shaky breath, flitting his eyes around the room. 

“I-” his voice cracked, causing him to clear his throat before he continued. “I think I wanted to kill him, Dick.” 

Another tear made its way down his cheek.

Dick doesn’t react with disgust or anger like Jason had expected. Instead, he just squeezes Jason's hand this time. 

“Back at the Tower…? Or today..?” 

“At Titans Tower,” Jason answered quickly, his pulse starting to flutter again. “I really, really wanted him dead. I- I thought it would be better that way.”

Dick keeps his face neutral, simply nodding. 

“And today…?” 

“Today…” Jason said, almost in a daze. “Today I wanted to kill the fuckers that were hurting him.” 

No more dead Robins.

Dick exhaled shakily. Jason’s hands were trembling so he couldn’t be sure, but he swears that Dick’s were slightly trembling too. 

“Okay.” Dick said simply, finally looking something close to relaxed.

“Okay..?” Jason said, furrowing his brow. “What do you mean okay? I just said I wanted to kill Tim!” 

“Key word, wanted.” Dick replied. “You don’t want to anymore and I can work with that.” 

He pulled away from Jason's hands, clapping him gently on the shoulder. 

“Wor-work with that?” Jason echoed, confused. “What the hell are you talking about bird brains? I’m dangerous!” 

He stood up, towering above Dick. “The pit warped me; I’m unstable.”

“Aren’t all capes a bit unstable?” Dick countered with a wryly smirk.

“I think there’s a difference between the garden variety unstable and my particular flavor of it, Dickface”

“Listen, I understand now.” Dick said cryptically. “Or at least I understand enough to be of use and I’m going to help you, Jay.” 

What in the actual hell does that mean?

“You’re not alone anymore.” 

For some reason, Jason can’t find it in him to protest. 

He was just…. tired.

There's a million different things he wants to say. By all means, Dick should lock him or send him somewhere far away. But, here he is, offering Jason his help. To be honest, Jason is sure that Dick will see what an unredeemable monster he is sooner or later. 

This offer won’t stay good for long, that Jason is sure of. 

Tim will wake up and tell Dick how scared he is of Jason and how awful he is and Dick will be left with no choice but to abandon Jason. 

After all, Tim is his little brother and Jason is just some cockroach that weaseled his way into Dick’s life back in the day.

When it comes down to it, there's no question in Jason's mind who Dick will choose.

“When Tim wakes up,” Dick started, breaking Jason out of his increasingly depressing thought spiral. “We’re both going to talk to him, okay?” 

“Uh, about what?” Jason asked dumbly, his brain fried from the emotional rollercoaster of the past several hours. He sank back down onto the couch, thoroughly exhausted. “I think it’s actually better if-” his heart clenched as the words formed in his mouth. “It’s better if you take him back to the Manor.” 

“Nah,” Dick said simply. “I don’t think I will.” 

“What do you mean ‘nah’?” Jason asked incredulously. “We’ve established that I’m a clear danger to him!” 

Dick scrunched his face up, waving his hand in the ‘so-so’ motion. “Debatable,” Dick shot back as he rose from his place on the couch. "Maybe six months ago, yeah, but currently… eh.”

“I had to make my wall into a punching bag just so I didn’t pummel him earlier.” Jason replied heatedly before shame crawled up his spine at the admission. 

“Ah,” Dick said, eyes fluttering down to Jason obviously bloodied knuckles and slowly turning his head to look at the obviously dented brick wall in the kitchenette area. “You don’t say.” 

“The hell is that supposed to mean, asshole?” 

“It means that I figured something of that nature happened,” Dick retorted easily. “To be honest, when I got here I assumed the worst… but after seeing Tim, I put the pieces together pretty quickly.” 

“If you assumed the worst when you got here then why the hell were you going easy on me during the fight, Dickhead?” Jason questioned with a raise of his eyebrow. “I literally threw you into a wall!”

Dick ducked sheepishly. 

“Ah, that .” 

“Yeah, that .” 

“Well,” Dick said, blinking a few times. “I just thought you might need to blow off some steam and, well… I was here so.” 

Blow… blow off some steam? 

Is he a fucking moron …? 

“Think of it as a friendly spar,” Dick waved off. “But as for what we’re going to do about you and Tim, we’ll work everything out when he wakes up. That’ll determine what happens next.” 

What… is… he… talking about…? 

Working things out between him and Tim..? 

Jason was right. 

He is a moron. 

There’s no way in hell that Tim is going to want to be near him when he wakes up. Not to mention that Jason literally admitted to Dick’s face that he wanted to kill Tim, Dicks little brother. 

He shouldn’t put Tim at risk for Jason’s benefit anyways. Like sure, the thought of not being able to keep an eye on Tim and make sure no other traffickers, or anyone really, messed with him made Jason a bit panicky for some reason. But, this wasn’t about Jason. 

It was about Tim. 

And why Dick thought that he would want to even talk about Jason like alone being around him was baffling. 

“Frankly,” Jason sighed. “I really think you and Tim should just go back to the Manor, Dick.” 

The older man was silent, brows furrowed and slightly swaying as he stood. Jason was sure he was coming up with some genius retort to try and change his mind but it wasn’t going to work! “I’m serious Dick. You- you didn’t see how scared he was of me; you didn’t see the look on his face when he-.” 

Jason cut himself off, his chest tightening as he remembered how Tim had essentially begged him to just ‘ get it over with ’ and then ‘ kill him ’. 

He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to share that little bit of information with the other man. 

Point is, Dick needed to get Tim away from him asap. 

Jason opened his mouth, looking up at Dick, prepared to give out a hefty list of reasons on why he was right when Dick suddenly wobbled dangerously on his feet. 

Of course, he attempted to straighten himself immediately but overcorrected, for the second time that night, and went tipping the other way. 

Jason was on his feet in a heartbeat, catching Dick before he could actually fall over and attempting to straighten him. 

“Dude what the fuck is up with you?” Jason snapped as he took on the majority of Dick’s weight. “What kind of acrobat loses his balance this much?” 

“Ah,” Dick grumbled, holding his temple and squinting. “One that is having an off night.” 

“Didn’t seem to be having an off night early when we were-” 

Suddenly, everything clicked into place for Jason. 

Oh, man. 

He is so damn stuipd.

He bashed Dick’s head into a wall. 

Twice. 

With his Pit enhanced strength. 

Jason sighed, long suffering and loud. “You're concussed aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, yeah a thousand percent,” Dick replied instantly, not even having the shame to deny hiding an injury. The audacity of this asshole after they just talked about Tim having a tendency to hide injuries. 

Christ. 

“Why the fuck didn’t you say something Dick face?” 

“Wasn’t relevant.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. At the same time, his knees buckled and he would’ve gone down if Jason didn’t take his full weight. “S’sorry,” he mumbled, looking vaguely sick. “The room has been spinning for the last ten minutes.” 

“Dude!” 

Dick winced again, jerking into Jason's hold. Another puzzle piece fell into place. 

“Is this why you didn’t want me talking loud earlier,” Jason asked, making an effort to not shout at the idiot. 

He nodded, eyes closed and face screwed up in concentration. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Dick panted, a cold sweat breaking out over his clammy skin.

“Not in my living room, you're not!” 

Jason half dragged Dick to the bathroom where he promptly threw up copious amounts of bile into the toilet before Jason had to actually drag him back to the couch to lay down. He checked Dick’s pupils, relieved that they were normal sized. He went to dig a flash light out of his first aid kit, relieved when it sputtered to life after a few hard taps. 

He really needs to update his shit. 

He went back over to where Dick was laying on the couch and checked his pupils reaction to light. 

Luckily, everything checked out for the most part. At least the idiot wasn’t showing signs of a brain bleed. He was certainly concussed though. 

Which is… just great.  

Not only is Tim’s brain currently being cooked like an egg, and likely injured from his brief stint with the assholes at the warehouse, he now also has a concussed jackass on his hands. 

Jason sighed as he maneuvered an extra throw blanket over Dick, who was now laying with his right arm thrown over his eyes. 

“You should’ve said something,” Jason snapped. He made sure to not speak too loudly, not wanting to make things worse for Dick. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Jason’s voice cracked. 

He’d hurt Dick just like he’d hurt Tim. 

The thought made his heart sink and his stomach revolted, intense nausea rolling over him. 

He really was a dangerous monster. 

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, feeling small. 

That wasn’t really an excuse though, and he knew it.

He still did it. 

“It’s just a minor concussion, Jay,” Dick mumbled, seemingly obviously to a person's inner struggle for once. “It’s no biggie, I'll be right as rain with a little sleep.” 

“Tch, whatever you say bird brain,” Jason rumbled, not in the mood to verbally fight about this at the moment. 

However, this just proves his point. He is too dangerous to be around Dick , let alone Tim. 

Jason would ensure that he kept his distance from both of them after this shitshow was over. 

It was for their own good. 

Silence hung over the two boys like a warm blanket, for a while. Jason is pretty sure that Dick dozed off at some point and the room slowly got lighter as the sun peeked through the dreary clouds and steamed through the thin curtains. Jason knew he should put Dick on concussion protocol and keep him awake. But, to be honest the older man looked exhausted. Jason hadn’t noticed before but Dick had deep bags under his eyes. So, if he woke him up every thirty minutes, it should be okay. Jason made sure to do no more than slightly dozed, the sun warming him through the windows as it shone onto the loveseat he was currently occupying. He was planning to wake Dick up in a bit.

It was almost peaceful. 

Unfortunately, Tim’s screaming abruptly brought them back to consciousness. 

Another nightmare, and fever spike, no doubt.

Jason was up and on his feet before he could process what was happening. Dick wasn’t far behind, shooting up off the couch in the blink of an eye. 

In what was becoming the new, brief normal, Dick stumbled as soon as he was on his feet. Jason was by his side instantly, predicting that this would likely happen. 

“Stay down,” he whispered as another wail pierced the air. “I’ve got him.” 

Dick flinched at the noise, still half asleep. Jason had a sneaking suspicion that he was downplaying how bad his head was really hurting.

“Jay, ‘m fine,” he slurred. 

Jason’s heart leapt, worry spiking up his spine at the slurred speech.

“Dick,” he tried. 

“Huh?” Dick responded, still a little too out of it for Jason's comfort. 

“Dick, look at me, " he ordered forcefully, using his ‘in the field voice’. 

Dick, to his credit, instantly snapped to attention, his eyes doing their best to focus on Jason through his haze of sleep. 

“I’m fine, I'm fine,” Dick said, blinking a few times. “Sorry, sorry , go get Tim.” he said, hauling himself back onto the couch. “I’ll stay, I've got two left feet right now anyways.” he joked. 

Jason rolled his eyes. 

The dumbass was fine. 

Tim screamed again, sobs tearing themselves out of his throat, prompting Jason to leap to his feet.

Jesus, what the hell was the kid dreaming about to make him sound like that ..? 

Green briefly tinted his vision as various possibilities ran through his head. It was more than likely about Jason. Afterall, it seems that the Tower fucked him up more than Jason had thought.  But, he pushed the Pit away. 

Tim needed him right now, and he was not going to let his own bullshit get in the way again. 

Not this time. 

And not ever again. 

Chapter Text

Tim sat ramrod straight at the dinner table, hands fisting his pressed slacks under the table. The table was set, the silver impeccably polished, and the food plated just as mother liked. In fact, Tim had the foresight to make Mother’s favorite dish, shrimp scampi with homemade garlic bread and a side caesar salad with homemade low fat dressing. All of it was made with the finest ingredients available. Tim had taken the bus into town early this morning to ensure optimal freshness. Then, once he returned, he painstakingly prepared everything from scratch. 

It was a long process. 

But, Tim knows that it will be worth it!

If he’s lucky, Mother may even tell him that he did well! And, maybe Father will suggest that they all go out for ice cream as an after dinner treat! 

However, he knew he had to play his cards right. He couldn’t be too excitable or talkative. He needed to ask all the right questions, give all the right answers, and perhaps most importantly , he needed to be picture perfect. Mother and Father always preferred him this way. So, he had dug out his best gala suit and carefully washed and pressed it. Then, he showered and slicked his hair back the way Father liked. He said it made Tim look older and more mature. He said it made him look like a true Drake. 

Personally, Tim hated it.

But, it was nothing he couldn’t put up with in pursuit of his objective. 

Tim was nothing if not relentless.

So, here he was. Sitting at the extravagant dining room table that Mother and Father had brought back from one of their excursions a few years back. Of course it had been a gift from some dignitary in some country that Tim hadn’t been old enough to catch the name of. It was always a conversation starter at dinner parties. 

The clock chimed nine, startling Tim slightly.  Shadows flickered in the corner of his vision. He paid them no mind. He chaisted himself internally for his jumpiness. He frowned slightly, a vague pain in his chest. They were supposed to have been here at six-thirty. The food was most assuredly cold by now. Even if he heated it up, the flavor and texture would be all wrong. 

This.. this was all wrong.

He barely swallowed down a frustrated scream.

It was just… wrong . 

It wouldn’t reflect all his pain staking time and effort he’d put into the meal. 

It would appear… sloppy .

And sloppy, well that just wouldn't fly in the Drake household. 

He sighed, releasing himself from his perfect posture. 

They weren’t coming. 

They were never going to come. 

He knew he shouldn’t have believed the sickly sweet words his parents had said in a moment of their picture perfect performance.

Tim couldn’t even muster up the will to be surprised.

This wasn’t unusual. 

They were always late or missing out on things these days. They really didn’t even spend time with Tim anymore, even if they did happen to show up. He had been hoping for once that they would keep their word. 

It was his birthday after all. 

He had expected a call at the very least, even if it was just to tell him that they changed their minds and they decided to go to Paris for a few weeks in between archaeological digs instead of coming home.

But, as he had learned long ago, expectation was the precursor to disappointment. 

And really, why should they come home…? 

He is a disappointment after all. 

He frowned. 

Disappointment. 

That… that didn’t sound quite right. 

Something shifted in the corner of his eye again. He whipped his head to the right, heart suddenly hammering in his chest, pushing himself up and away from the table. His silverware rattled against the force, clinking against his plate.

However, nothing was there. 

He was all alone, just like he always was.

Tim sighed. 

It must have been a trick of the light or his own shadow. He pushed the heavy wooden dining room chair in, sighing as he ran a finger Tim had gained a tendency of being unnecessarily jumpy these days. Batman would never let him live down the embarrassment of getting spooked by his own shadow if he knew. 

To be fair though, Tim is an embarrassment.

Wait… no. 

Embarrassment ….

That wasn’t quite right either. Something tugged at the corner of his mind, like an unseen string of a puppet. Something … was… wrong..? 

No, no!

No. 

He’s just tried. 

That’s all. 

He shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face a few times. Tim was so, so tired. His mind is definitely not firing on all cylinders right now. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the back of the fancy chair he had been previously sitting in. 

He can’t remember the last time he’d had a good night's sleep. Between being Robin, school, extracurriculars, and his-

Somewhere in the house, a door slammed shut. 

Tim froze, his train of thought halting. 

He’s…he’s here alone. 

He’s always alone.

Right….?

It was probably the wind or something. 

Yeah… yeah that was it! 

Just the wind playing tricks on Tim’s overactive imagination and sleep deprived mind. Mother used to always tell him that he believed in the most ridiculous nonsense. 

Like Santa, and the Easter Bunny.

Tim shook his head a bit, trying to relieve the grogginess. He just wanted to go lay down and melt into his bed for the rest of his life. But, he couldn’t just leave the food out like this. Mrs. Mac, his housekeeper, would be coming over in the morning to do her weekly cleaning. He didn’t want any evidence of his-

Foolishness.  

The word felt heavy, despite never leaving his mouth. 

Maybe… maybe it was better if nothing ever came out of his mouth again. 

A dark thought. 

But one he couldn’t stop himself from having.

A vase in the corner of the room tumbled to the ground, shattering, and startling Tim out of his quickly spiraling thoughts. 

Tim jumped, a yelp making its way out of his throat. 

So much for another sound never leaving his mouth. 

Another vase on the other side of the room tumbled to the hardwood floor. Tim whipped around, breathing heavy and barely holding back another yelp. 

A dark laugh echoed across the room, bouncing from one wall to the other.

Tim instantly took a fight stance, switching into vigilante mode. 

“Who’s there?” He called out, proud of how he kept the fear out of his voice despite its rasp. He had forgotten that he hadn’t said anything out loud in almost seventy-two hours, since the last time Ms. Mac had dropped off groceries. “Who’s there?!” he repeated, more forceful this time. 

Silence. 

He looked back and forth for a moment, waiting for something to jump out at him. It was only then that it registered that he was, in fact, not Robin right now. 

He was Tim Drake. 

And Tim Drake couldn’t defend himself. 

Tim Drake was useless . 

Therefore, he had to-.

Laughter bounced around the walls of the manner again, louder this time, closer. 

“I’ll call the police!” He shouted, trying to sound the right amount of scared this time. He was bluffing of course. Mother and Father would be so angry if he called the police and made a big fuss over nothing. So, it was better to just handle whatever the hell was going on himself. To be quite honest, he was a bit unnerved. The manner was huge and anyone could be hiding in its various nooks and crannies. 

Tim waited for a response. 

After a few seconds of silence being his only companion, he worked up the nerve to creep over to one of his parents' broken vases. It was one of their favorites from their first big find on a dig site on the Yucatan peninsula. 

Man, how the hell was he going to explain this to them…? 

They would not be pleased. 

He sighed, turning to go and fetch a dust pan, momentarily forgetting his apprehension. However, his lapse in memory didn’t last long. As he turned, he came face to face with his worst nightmare. 

Red Hood. 

“Replacement . ” 

Oh. 

That’s… that's right. 

Replacement . 

That’s what he is. 

Sure, he was also a disappointment and embarrassment. But, there was one thing he knew he was above all else. 

An undeniable Replacement. 

“Run birdie, run.” Hood laughed, eyes glowing an unmistakable green. He unsheathed one of his many guns and fired three shots into the roof. 

Tim, all rational thought abandoning him, turned on his heel and raced into the hallway. He chanced a look back, seeing Hood advance on him. He pumped his arms, stumbling through the grand doors of the foyer. Tim looked back again, his heart racing, only to see Hood leaping over the sleek black sofa in Titans Tower. 

He turned back around, suddenly finding himself running down the Tower hall. He was no longer in his pressed, Gala suit and Armani dress shoes, he was in his pajamas, an oversized black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, and barefoot. 

No.

No.  

He couldn’t be back here. 

Not again. 

Please, not again. 

More shots whizzed by him, one hitting him in the upper thigh. He stumbled, but kept going. It was his only chance. He had to keep going. He wouldn’t stop this time.

He had to run . 

“Oh Replacement,” Hood sang. “You can run but you can’t hide!” 

Tim ignored the jab, keeping his pace despite the bullet now lodged in his leg. Luckily, he thinks that Hood missed the femoral artery. Which, honestly, was probably intentional. Tim got the impression that Hood wasn’t going to make this a quick affair.

Not to mention that Hood was definitely the type of person to play with their food. 

Up ahead, Tim spotted the Zeta Tube. 

That’s it! 

He could-

Wait. 

There… something about it is… wrong…?

Tim halted momentarily, spinning past a few more bullets flying his way, eyes running over the device. 

Was… was it off ? 

Did Hood turn them off? 

How the hell would he… 

Several things clicked into place at once for Tim, a missing puzzle piece slotting firmly into place. 

This quickly confirmed four things: 

One: Hood knew enough about Zeta Tubes to be able to disable one. 

Two: The only way into the Tower was through the Zeta Tubes. This meant that he was somehow in the system.

Three: Red Hood was not a stranger with a bad case of boredom and a random grudge against Bats. 

Four: Tim was in big fucking trouble. 

“One, two, Hood is coming for you,” the man sang as he slowly walked down the hallway. “Three, four, better lock your door,” he went on. “Five, six, going to beat you with your stick!” Hood paused to laugh. 

Beat him with his stick…? 

Oh, shit. 

His staff!

He left it in the living room earlier after the guy had managed to knock it away. 

“Seven, eight, never gonna wake again,” Hood sang, his footsteps echoing loudly in Tim’s ears. 

He wanted to run. 

He wanted to move!

To fight! 

But he couldn’t move. 

This.. this wasn’t how it happened. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! 

He was supposed to keep going. Tim was supposed to fight! Robins never give up!

“Nine, ten, this is your end!” 

Suddenly, Hood was pinning him to the cold, hard ground. 

Tim couldn’t have stopped him if he tried. 

A running theme in his life, apparently. 

The pavement scratched roughly through his costume and he could hardly breath around his sobs and the rain water getting in his mouth. Tim somehow knew that they were at Bristol Bridge, a few miles from the Manor. 

“What I’d tell you about coming into my territory, Replacement?” Hood echoed with a wicked smile. A gun was at his temple and a knife at his neck. One move and he was dead. 

Hood’s helmet was off, discarded on the ground. 

Tim was no longer looking at the Red Hood. He was looking at Jason Todd. 

His childhood hero… now turned into his killer. 

“I’m sorry,” Tim choked out, letting out a shuddering sob. “I’m so sorry!” 

“Tell me why you got to live and I had to die!” 

Tim sobbed, his mind static with panic. 

“Tell me, Replacement!” 

“I don’t know, I don’t know and I’m sorry !” He screamed, everything melting in a blur around him. 

Hood suddenly drove the knife into his shoulder, making Tim scream. His leg throbbed where Hood had shot him in the Tower. “Ah, I love when pathetic little birds sing,” Jason laughed. “Music to my ears!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry just kill me, just get it done and kill me,” Tim babbled, blood running down his face. Funnily enough, he can’t recall how exactly he got a head wound. “I’ll be good, I swear, I won’t run, just please make it quick, kill me quick I swear don’t make me go back to Rolando, please I-” 

“Wake up, Tim.” Hood said suddenly, voice flat.

Wha- what …? 

“Wake up,” Jason repeated, softer this time. “It’s not real.” 

What the hell…? 

Tim is pretty sure he can-

“ Wake up! ” 

Wha-

“ Wake up, Tim! ”

What’s happening…? 

“ Wake up! ” 

—

Tim wakes up screaming, thrashing against a plethora of blankets he didn’t remember burying himself in. In fact, Tim actually doesn’t know where he is or why he’s screaming. One thing he does know is that he feels like he just went five rounds with freaking Bane. Although, all things considered, It’s not the worst way to wake up.

He’s awoken to worse. 

Well, at least, he thinks he’s awake. 

Sometimes he isn’t quite sure. Sleep deprivation will do that to you.

But for the moment, the dull ache of his body and pounding of his head leave him feeling pretty confident in his conclusions. 

He’s most definitely awake. 

Well, eighty percent sure he’s awake. 

He was suddenly aware of hot tears running down his sweaty cheeks and small hiccupping sobs bubbling from his chest, the world coming into a fuzzy sort of focus. He felt like one of his cameras trying to focus on a rainy night. He was aware…sort of, but somehow he also wasn’t. Somehow, Tim knew he was… somewhere …. somewhere he shouldn’t be. 

He couldn’t quite remember though. His thoughts felt thick and syrupy.

Flashes of the Red Hood shot through his head, causing him to wince. 

Ah, that tracks at least. 

No wonder he can’t remember anything. Red Hood must have done something to him. Tim knows that thought should be more distressing. But, he really couldn’t be bothered to care right now. His thoughts were moving like molasses and he didn’t have the energy to try and force the world back into HD focus. 

Besides, Hood was going to do whatever it was he was going to do whether Tim was aware of it or not. There was no use in pushing himself to-

“Tim,” A familiar voice said, alerting Tim that he was not alone, an echo of his dream fluttering across his mind.

Tim froze, biting back a gasp.

That… That wasn’t Hood’s voice. 

He tensed, his muscles contracting painfully as adrenaline shot up his spine. Tim was suddenly painfully aware that he was exposed like this. In this condition, he didn’t stand a chance against fighting his way out of a wet paper bag, let alone against some unknown hostile. 

Tim slowly inched his gaze to the left, his hair hanging limply in his eyes. Mother would scold him for letting it hang like that. Tim knows that it's undignifie d. Yet, it was his only shield right now. He couldn’t bring himself to abandon that. Besides, what Mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Tim refocused on the situation at hand. He tried to grip onto reality but it was slipping through his fingers like slow, sweet honey. 

Somehow, he got his vision to come into focus only to see the one thing he knew couldn’t be true. Standing in the corner of the room, by the door, was none other than Dick Grayson. 

It made his heart clench with some unidentifiable emotion. 

Sometimes Tim dreams that Dick or Bruce or, hell, even Jason, would take care of him when he’s sick or upset or injured. Of course that’s just exactly what they were though, silly dreams. 

Silly, stuipd dreams.

Tim found himself holding back a whine in his chest.

Despite his own thoughts, he longed for this exact situation to be a reality. Yet, he knew it was never going to happen. Luxuries like comfort and care were never in the cards for someone like him. 

There’s no way Dick would actually be here. 

Not for him at least.

Yet, Tim desperately wished he was. 

A foolish thought.

Dick Grayson has much more important things to do then come running to Tim’s aid every time he fucks up and gets himself into trouble, which he seemed to accomplish on a semi regular basis. Usually Tim can scramble out of trouble by the seat of his pants. In fact, he is pretty sure neither Bruce nor Dick know about his close call with Penguin last month. Sure, he’d gotten thrown into the harbor by his cape and gotten pneumonia for his troubles. 

But he figured it out! 

No matter.

Tim had more important things to think about than his repertoire of close calls, like the Dick shaped apparition in the doorway.  

He would’ve laughed at the internal Dick joke if he didn’t feel like he was going to simultaneously vibrate out of his skin and sink through the mattress like goo.

Tim exhaled, only moderately succeeding in making it sound like a normal breath and not a needy, pathetic noise of longing at the sight of the first Robin. The apparition with his predecessor's face frowned, pausing the chattering that Tim knew was occurring but couldn’t be bothered to listen to. 

Not like it mattered. 

Not like anything mattered. 

Tim often felt like that when he got like this. 

Just…. hollow.

Of course, this was mildly distressing as he hadn’t had a confusion with reality like this in a while. But for now the distress remained a distant hum. 

The original Robin had a crease between his eyebrows and his hands were held up in surrender. He was suddenly much closer to Tim’s face. 

Huh…. when did that happened…?

“You with me, Tim?” Hallucination Dick asked gently. In the distance, a door slammed. Tim jerked a bit at the noise and Dick slightly winced before smoothing out his expression. He studied the apparition for a moment, trying to figure out what the correct answer was.  

Tim nodded, deciding to play this out. 

No harm in a little indulgence here and there.

“Okay, okay,” Dick said, inching a bit closer but still keeping his distance. “Do you know where you are?”

Tim furrowed his brow, looking around. 

He still didn’t recognize the room he was in. 

Tim shook his head. 

“Okay,” Dick said, looking mildly distressed. Tim frowned at that. He didn’t like seeing Dick upset. 

Even fake hallucination Dick.

“I’m sorry.” he apologized reflexively. He isn’t sure why. But, he had to do something to try and get Dick to stop looking like that. 

Dick deserved to be nothing but happy. 

“For what, babybird?” Dick half laughed, although it sounded stretched, raising his eyebrow slightly. Tim repressed a whine at the affectionate nickname, feeling like he had just been sucker punched in the chest.

If only the real Dick Grayson would call him that. 

But, Tim supposed that this was better than nothing.

“You look… sad,” Tim said, his words coming slower than usual. He could feel a deep weariness in his bones and wanted nothing more than to sink into the mattress again and give into the oblivion lingering on the edges of his vision. 

Suddenly all traces of genuine emotion evaporated off of Dick’s face, replaced by the faux mask that Dick often puts on at Gala’s or when he’s struggling and doesn’t want anyone to know. 

Tim can tell though. 

Tim can always tell. 

He isn’t sure why other people can’t. 

He thinks it rather obvious. 

Then again, he’s always been more observant than most people. Maybe most people just didn’t want to look below the surface of Dick’s dazzling smiles and his penchant for physicality. It was easier to take things at face value. 

When you stayed on the surface, you were safe from the tangled, murky depths laying below. 

So, when it was like watching actual brick walls slam up in between him and Dick, Tim didn’t appreciate that one bit. 

“Don’t do that,” he found himself snapping. Dick responded with a confused and apprehensive look. “Please,” Tim added as an afterthought. He didn’t mean to sound rude.

Hallucination Dick didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that.

“Don’t do what?” Dick asked evenly, making his way over to a chair that was perched at Tim’s bedside. There was a pile of blankets pooled around the chair’s base. 

Tim internally debated for a moment, trying to come up with something believable to say that wasn't ‘ I hate when you look sad ’. 

But… this was only a figment of Tim’s imagination. 

It’s not like it would hurt anything to speak his mind for once. 

“I made you sad,” Tim all but whispered. Dick’s face did some sort of spasm, causing guilt to pool in Tim’s gut. 

“Oh, babybird,” Dick said softly. Warmth spread through Tim’s chest at the nickname. “You didn’t make me sad.” 

Tim frowned, the words flying around his head but not aligning themselves in any semblance of order that would make sense. 

“Upset…?” He tried uncertainly.

He didn’t like being uncertain. 

Bad things happen when he couldn’t predict what was coming. 

Dick sighed, running his hands through his hair before kneeling down next to Tim's bedside. “Tim, you didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” 

Tim could tell the confusion showed on his face because Dick immediately started talking again. “I was just worried about you,” Dick explained, kneeling at Tim’s bedside. “Am I not allowed to be worried about my favorite Robin?” 

‘ Favorite Robin ’

Tim’s heart swelled at the words and but… but it wasn’t right. No matter how much he wanted to hear those words from Dick, Tim knew it was a farce. 

And really, how dare he! 

How could he just lie to Tim’s face like that? 

Tim wasn’t stuipd.

As if he didn’t know the truth? As if Tim didn’t know he was a poor imitation of Dick’s actual favorite. And sure, this Dick was only a figment of Tim’s mind but still! Guess he needed to give his delusional subconscious a reality check. He couldn’t allow these silly ideas to fester and take root in his mind for any longer. He was a Drake goddammit! It was damn time he started acting like one. 

He stubbornly ignored the way his fathers voice echoed the words in his head. 

“Don’t say that,” Tim blurted, his words clunky. His chest was suddenly heaving. Funnily enough, he doesn’t remember his breathing even slightly picking up, let alone becoming the halestorm it is now. “You can’t say that!” He found himself yelling, chest tight as words tumbling out of him like water bursting from a dam. “Y-you can’t say that to me! You can’t say that to me, Dick!”

Dick quickly retracted his statement, expression neutral, rolling with the punches as he always did. “Okay, okay, I'll take it back, Tim.” 

Satisfied that his subconscious had been reigned in, Tim settled back into the blankets, his body feeling heavier by the second. 

“Good,” Tim said softly. “You shouldn’t lie.” 

Dick furrowed his brows, rocking back onto his knees. He looked eerily calm. “Why would that be a lie?” 

“Uh, cause I'm not the favorite.” Tim replied as if it was obvious.

“What makes you say that,” Dick asked airily, giving him a quizzical look. 

Tim snorted. 

“What wouldn’t make me say that?” Tim responded with a sleepy sigh. “I know exactly what I am.” He yawned. “And, I’ve accepted it.” 

“And what is that?” Dick prompted. “Apologies, an old man like me is a bit slow on the uptake,” he joked. Tim knows the real Dick really ramps up the jokes during times of stress. So, he’s not surprised that hallucination Dick has the same habit. Tim finds himself chuckling anyway though. 

Hallucination Dick is both scarily accurate in his mannerisms and yet completely wrong with the way he’s looking at Tim like he’s something worth caring for.

“I’m nothing,” Tim found himself saying through hooded lids. “I believe Jason uses the word, Replacement.” Tim added as he slunk back into sleep. “Can’t say I disagree, really.” he mumbled as an afterthought. 

A sudden pressure on his arm jerks Tim back for a moment. 

“Tim,” Dick said, urgency and something else clouding his voice. “Please tell me you don’t really believe that.” 

Tim lost the battle with the darkness that had been lurking at the edge of his vision since he woke up. 

Although, he did find it strange that his hallucination could touch him. 

They’ve never done that before.

Weird. 

—

The next time Tim wakes up, it’s much slower. 

The first thing he is aware of is how heavy he feels. His limbs were like lead. The next sensation to wash over him was that he was warm . Almost uncomfortably warm, if he was being honest. The next sense to come back to him was Tim’s hearing. 

There were muffled clanking noises and faint voices. 

For a while, Tim laid in this limbo. He wasn’t quite awake but he definitely wasn’t asleep either. After a while, the heaviness in his limbs dissipated. A dull ache took its place. Somewhere not too far off, a door slammed. 

Like a key turning a lock, Tim felt himself boot completely back online. 

He abruptly sat up, his eyes shooting open. Instinctively, he took stock of his body, his Bat training kicking in. He heaved for a few moments as he mentally ran through his checklist, his body trying to adjust to the rapid increase of his heart rate. Once he was able to get a good, deep breath without feeling like a fish out of water, Tim shifted. Well, he shifted the best he could considering there was a mound of blankets piled on top of him making it almost impossible to do so. 

After a beat, Tim determined that overall, he didn’t feel too shabby. He had a mild headache and felt a bit sweaty and achy. Upon trying to turn his head to get a better look at the room, Tim determined that his shoulders and neck felt a bit tight too. 

It was nothing he couldn’t deal with though.

He’d woken up in mysterious circumstances in worse shape before. He rolled his neck, trying to loosen stiff muscles. He must have been laid up for a few days if his neck was protesting this bad. To his right, he caught sight of a giant bottle of Tylenol, a very obviously used rag, and a dinky thermometer. 

He stared at the items, waiting for his usually quick mind to put the pieces together. 

Reality hit him harder than one of Superman’s punches. 

He was in Jason’s apartment. 

He was in the Red Hood’s apartment.

Tim choked, his heart rate rocketing at the thought. 

He was in the Red Hood’s apartment after said Red Hood bought him from child traffickers . 

Before he could work himself into too much of a panic, he heard a loud clatter coming from somewhere outside the bedroom followed by a high pitched yelp. 

Without thinking twice Tim ran out of the bedroom, nearly tripping on the oversized sweatpants he was currently wearing. In hindsight, it was a dumb idea. Tim would later berate himself for running into an unknown situation so foolishly. 

Batman trained him better than that and he knows Bruce would be disgusted if knew how readily Tim disregarded his training.  

But that was later . 

Now , all Tim did was react to the sound of someone in pain, a knee jerk reaction engrained so deeply in himself that Tim barely even blinks between being firmly entrenched in blankets and rushing out of the room. 

Tim wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he ran head first into the unknown. 

But what he wasn’t expecting to see was Dick, covered in what Tim assumes in pancake batter, flipping pancakes with the fingertips of his left hand and shaking his right one furiously.

Tim blinked owlishly for a few moments. 

What the hell is he doing here? 

Actually better yet, why the fuck is he cooking pancakes in Jason’s apartment? Tim is pretty sure they haven't had any form of contact since before the Tower. 

“Dick?” Tim blurted before he could think better of it. It was just so bizarre. “What are you doing here?” 

Dick’s eyes shot up, mid pancake flip. “Tim!” He exclaimed excitedly, a large grin spreading across his features. “You’re awake!” He made an aborted gesture with his hands, almost like he was opening up for a hug before thinking better of it.

“You seem surprised,” Tim stated, eyeing Dick carefully. He was dressed in too long checkered pajama bottoms and a worn gray long sleeve. His hair was mused from what Tim assumed to be sleep. Suddenly, a memory flittered just beyond his grasp, the feeling of gentle hands carding through his hair. The feeling was gone before Tim could really dwell on it though.

“I thought you’d be out for longer,” Dick answered simply. “Always the overachiever though as usual,” The older man added with a good natured laugh. 

Dick flipped another pancake and Tim felt a flush rising high on his cheeks. 

He cleared his throat, “Are you going to answer my question?” 

“What was the question again?” Dick asked. 

Tim rolled his eyes, with a huff. 

“ What are you doing?” 

 “Cooking pancakes,” he answered, as if that made any sense at all. As if that answered why he was here , in Jason's apartment. 

“Uh,” Tim said eloquently. “Why are you cooking pancakes?” 

Dick furrowed his brows. “Because I’m hungry…?” Dick glanced down to flip another pancake, a self satisfied smile gracing his features, before glancing back at Tim. “Plus, I thought you might want some.” 

As if on cue, Tim’s stomach growled at the offer. 

“Uh, yeah.” Tim nodded. “Pancakes are good but uhm-” He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling how dry it was. “Why are you in J-Jason’s apartment?” Tim asked, “Actually, where even is Jason,” he added, lips correctly forming the name this time. 

He gave himself a mental pat on the back. 

Dick’s smile went a little strained at the edges as he started plating up the food. He threw a dish towel over his shoulder, taking a moment to wipe his hands on it. “How much do you remember Tim?” Dick asked the question nonchalantly, but Tim could see the underlying tension running through the line of first Robin’s shoulders. It made his heart stutter, lighting in his chest. “You’ve been out of commission for the last couple days, so if you don’t remember much that’s okay, I won’t be mad.” 

Tim knew this game. He played it all the time with his parents. All he had to do was pick his answers very carefully. Dick was obviously giving him an out to sweep this whole situation under the rug. To not- to not linger on his weakness and failure.

Now that Tim’s mind is up and working, he thinks that he has a pretty good grasp on what is happening here. 

Obviously, Hood got cold feet. Or he decided that Tim just wasn’t worth the effort. Maybe he just simply changed his mind. Either way, Tim can tell that nothing happened from the distinct lack of ache inside him. Sure, other acts could have been committed while he was unconscious. But, Hood is more of an all or nothing kind of guy. It just wouldn’t make sense for him to half ass something. This is the guy that meticulously planned his grand reentrance to Gotham by sending Batman a duffle bag full of heads, for crying out loud! 

So yeah, Tim was confident that Hood hadn’t lived up to his threats, for whatever reason that was.

As for why Dick was here, Tim didn’t quite have that figured out yet. Jason could have lured him into a trap by taunting him with Tim’s capture. But, if that was the case, Tim doesn’t think that Jason is the kind of captor to let their prisoners waltz around untethered. To make things even stranger, Jason was MIA. 

And Dick didn’t even appear to be worried about that!? Tim supposed that the two could have talked and come to some sort of understanding but-

And wait -!

Dick and Jason were talking again…!

The realization temporarily blinded him to his confusion. 

This-this was great! 

Maybe now Tim could try and get everyone back together. They could be a family again! Tim would become obsolete but at least his mission would have been complete.

 After the aftermath of the Tower, Tim thought the whole thing would be a bust. As much as Bruce and Dick love and care about Jason, he knows that they are too good of people to just blatantly overlook an attack on Robin. Their morals are too strong. Plus, it would taint their reputation. Strategically it wouldn’t be a smart move. But now, Tim could resume the chess game. All he had to do was set up the pieces and get things into motion.

But back to the situation at hand, Tim needed to answer Dick. And if he didn’t want to risk upsetting Dick, he had to be on his best behavior. 

For a moment, Tim had a brief, traitorous thought.

‘ What if he told Dick what happened ?”

He immediately scolded himself.

What good would that do…? 

Telling people stuff had never panned out for Tim before. So why did his stuipd brain think now would be any different? 

And to be fair, Tim still wasn’t clear on if Jason was being serious or not about his threats at the warehouse. The fact that, from what Tim can tell, nothing actually happened also weakened his resolve. What was he going to do; complain about something that never actually happened?

And now that he thinks about it, Tim recalls a vague conversation with Jason about the whole thing but he can’t exactly remember what was said. 

So, really, what good was opening his stuipd mouth do? 

And besides….Dick loves Jason. 

At the end of the day, Jason is family and Tim is….. Well he’s Tim. 

He doesn’t think he would be able to take it if he told Dick about what happened and… he didn’t care. Plus, Tim can’t ruin the miniscule chance that the two have at reconciliation just because he got a little worked up. He’s already the reason they’re estranged in the first place! If he hadn’t bene Robin when Jason came back, everything would be fine right now! He refuses to fuck things up even more.

So, Tim would need to carefully craft his answers to make them sound natural while also leaving out key parts of how and why he was here. 

It wasn’t perfect but it was the best plan that he’s got. 

The only problem with it is that Tim doesn’t know where Jason currently is or how much Dick knows. 

What Dick knows is going to make or break the plan. 

“I can hear you thinking, Baby bird,” Dick sang good naturedly. He turned to the fridge, retrieving what looked like frozen sausage links. He easily ripped open the package, lining up the frozen links on a separate pan.

“Well I-” Tim started, the lie already forming. Albeit, not a great one. 

“I know what happened by the way,” Dick interrupted, his voice even and breezy. 

Tim stiffened. 

No. 

There’s no fucking way. 

What does he mean he knows…? 

Tim resisted the urge to run his hands through his hair nervously.

Surely … 

Surely Dick doesn’t mean he knows about-

“And before you think yourself into an early grave,” Dick said, as if reading Tim’s mind. Which… what the fuck..?  “I mean that I know what Jason did.” 

Tim’s heart stuttered in his chest, salvia filling his mouth at the confession. 

Well, at least now instead of thinking himself into an early grave he can succumb to his jack hammering heart instead because surely it’s not meant to beat as fast as it is right now. 

He swallowed thickly. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tim said breathlessly, trying and failing to project ease. 

Dick looked up from his sausages, using a partly deformed spatula to push them around. It would’ve made Tim laugh under different circumstances because it looked utterly ridiculous . “Ah,” Dick deadpanned. “That’s the route you’re going to go?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Tim. 

“Jason didn’t do anything,” Tim vehemently denied, surprising himself.

Tim cursed internally as Dick shot him a look. 

He’d reacted too strongly. Now Dick for sure knew something was up! His plan was already failing miserably and he’d barely said ten words. 

Dammit!

This is not how it was supposed to go. 

He was ruining everything! Just like he always ruins everything. 

Tim felt the familiar pressure behind his eyes and the tears were not far behind if he didn’t get control of himself now . 

“Come on,” Dick chided with an easy look and an even easier smile. 

Tim doesn’t know how he does it. How he can smile like that. Tim knows how much Dick has been through. He was there the night his parents fell. He was there the night that Dick’s whole life crumbled. Yet here he was, all easy smiles. 

So… why couldn’t he be like that? 

Why couldn’t Tim get those easy smiles when his life was nowhere near as bad as Dick’s has been. 

Tim envied it. 

God, Tim envied it. 

He envied Dick and his stuipd easy going smiles and melodic laughs and that stuipd foolish assurance that he carried himself with. 

Why…. why was everything always so fucking easy for Dick? 

And-and why was it so hard for him? 

“I promise I won’t be upset or mad with you, little bird,” Dick added, pulling Tim for his spiral. He flipped the sausages and discarded the greasy spatula on a wimpy looking paper towel before coming over and kneeling down in front of Tim. For some reason, this eased a bit of the tension in Tim’s chest, silencing the tornado of thoughts. He found his resolve softening. Dick, telegraphing his movements, gently laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder, the full force of the sun radiating from his easy golden smile. 

Damn Dick and his easy golden smiles. 

They should be classified as a weapon or something but the speed at which Tim was losing his nerve was borderline concerning.

“I-” Tim stuttered, cutting himself off, shooting Dick a final pleading look. It was his last line of defense. “He didn’t do anything,” Tim tried again, voice barely a whisper. 

Dick’s smile turned sad and Tim instantly regretted his words. Despite his earlier thoughts, Tim is suddenly very glad that Dick is so quick to smile. Any other emotion on his face seems to make Tim’s lungs forget to take in air. 

Dick Grayson doesn’t deserve sadness, especially on account of a waste like Tim. 

“You can trust me, okay,” Dick assured, a solid presence, squeezing Tim’s shoulder slightly. If it was anyone else, Tim knows that action alone would’ve sent him spiraling, especially in the mental state he’s in right now. 

But, It’s Dick . 

He’s the person who showed Tim how to swing from a grappling hook. 

He’s the person who taught him how to fight opponents over twice his size. He’s the person who taught him where to retreat to in the manner when Bruce was in one of his moods and stood up for him when Bruce got too intense and moody. 

He’s the person who taught him what it means to be Robin . 

Tim should’ve known this was a losing battle. 

He never stood a chance.

“You-” he started, a tear streaming down his face before he could stop it. “You can’t be mad at Jason okay,” Tim all but gasped. ” Please , don’t hate him again!” 

Dick looked momentarily stunned before smoothing his features back into his signature cool expression. “Okay, okay, I won’t be mad at Jason,” Dick assured him, gently pulling Tim down to sit on the floor with him. Tim was momentarily confused by this before he registered the fact that he was uncontrollably shaking. 

Huh, when did that start? 

“Pr-promise me you won’t hate him,” Tim demanded, the tears flowing freely now. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. He found himself gripping Dick’s shirt almost desperately. He needed to make sure that he wasn’t ruining everything if he told Dick this. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if that happened. 

“Scouts honor, baby bird,” Dick responded. He’d maneuvered Tim to lean against him, a warm arm encircling him. 

“I-it wasn’t his fault, okay,” Tim sniffed, his shaking intensifying. “I knew I was supposed to stay aw-away from him and his territory.” Tim began, willing himself to hold it together. Dick hummed, signaling for him to keep going. “But-But I was so, so stuipd and I wasn’t watching my surroundings and I had just been trying to get intel for Br-Bruce and then I overheard-'' he gasped, desperate to get the words out before they died in his throat. “ I overheard some talk about a shipment and before I knew it I was in Crime Alley and-” he gasped again, his lungs seizing as he coughed around his words. 

“Hey, breathe for me Tim,” Dick instructed softly, rubbing soothing circles on Tim’s back. “In,” he said, exaggerating the rise of his chest. “And out,” he added, exhaling loud and harsh in the otherwise quiet apartment. “In,” he repeated. “And out,” he finished. Tim tried to mimic Dick’s breathing pattern, familiar with the exercise. It was a technique that Bruce taught in case of fear of gas infection. It was smart of Dick to repurpose it for Tim’s stuipd rebelling lungs. “And you’re not stuipd baby bird, okay?” Dick said. “You probably had a good reason for losing track of your surroundings, yes?” Dick asked, still exaggerating his breathing. Tim knows that he is going to be embarrassed about this later but right now the only thing he can find in himself to be is grateful. They repeated the process a few times before Tim had enough oxygen to answer. 

“I was following a truck,” Tim wheezed out. “Overheard there were going to be ch-child traffickers.” Tim’s pulse jumps involuntarily as he remembered how Ronaldo had looked at him. Simultaneously, Dick’s grip tightened on him minutely. Again, if it was anyone else, Tim knows that it would set him off. But when Dick does it, it just felt… nice. 

“So you were doing your duties as Robin then, right?” 

Tim nodded, his head feeling stuffy. 

“I had to get to the kids before they got them on that truck,” Tim replied. “There was no time for anything else.” 

“Then you weren’t being stuipd then,” Dick reasoned. “I would’ve done the same thing.” 

“But I know better,” Tim insisted. “I-I got caught and Hood was-” 

“Was posing as a buyer, right?” 

Ye-yeah-” Tim stuttered. “He was posing as a buyer and-” 

“Wait,” Dick interrupted, pulling back from Tim. He had to restrain himself from chasing after Dick’s warmth. “You,” Dick started, his face scrunching up before smoothing out again. “You-you know that he was pretending, right?” 

Tim paused, unsure how to answer that. 

Sure now that Tim has been awake more than thirty seconds, he’s starting to remember hazy conversations with Jason where he assured Tim that he had been lying about that. But…he can still feel the gun digging into his head when he suggested otherwise back at the warehouse. 

Of course Tim had thought that he had been pretending at first. 

But… 

Hood’s words rang in his ears. 

“ Are. You. Sure.? ” 

Tim shook his head. 

No.

He wasn’t sure. 

Not then. 

And not now. 

Dick gently turned Tim’s face towards his, an unreadable expression darkening his expression. 

“Tim, I need you to be a hundred percent honest with me, okay?” Dick said evenly, urgency in his voice. “You need to tell me if Jason did anything -” 

“No,” Tim assured hurriedly. “No, I don’t think he actually did anything like that. I just-” He cut himself off. He isn’t sure what he thought. The more he thinks about the whole thing the more silly he feels. 

He isn’t sure what he thought. 

“He just threatened me,” Tim said. “Put a gun to my head, smacked me around a bit, I think.” He chanced a glance up at Dick, waiting to see his reaction. 

“How did that make you feel?” Dick asked, which out of the million things Tim thought he would say, that was not one of them.

“What?” Tim asked before he could stop himself. 

“How did that make you feel?” Dick repeated softly. 

Tim furrowed his brow. “Why does that matter?” 

“Why wouldn’t it?” Dick shot back, not unkindly.

Tim, not wanting to open that particular can of worms, ignored that question in favor of the first one. 

 “I got scared and… well overreacted,” Tim answered softly, not meeting Dicks eyes as shame rolled up his spine and heated his cheeks . 

“Overreacted, huh?” Dick said, studying Tim with intense eyes. “Seems to me like that would be a perfectly normal reaction.” 

Tim’s head shot up, his thoughts flying off his tongue before he could think better of it.  “Well, he’s done way worse to me already so it’s not like some minor threats are going to be any worse,” Tim scoffed. “It’s not like rape is worse than almost murdering me.”

Tim felt Dick jolt at his words and he instantly felt guilty. 

He… maybe could’ve put that a bit nicer. 

The older man cleared his throat, tapping out an erratic beat on his leg. “I can see why that might be your thought process,” Dick said after a moment. His voice sounded normal, but there was a tightness to his posture that wasn’t there before. 

He… he made Dick upset.

Tim averted his eyes, hanging his head. 

He’s such an idiot. 

Of course that would upset someone like Dick. 

Tim was careless with his words, something Mother had done her best to train out of him, and now Dick was upset. 

He-

He needed to leave. 

He’s leeched enough of Dick’s time as is. Jason would be back soon anyways and Tim didn’t want to intrude on what he hoped would be some good brotherly bonding time between the two older men. 

So, Tim went to scramble away, guilt eating at him, but he was stopped by a firm but gentle grip. “Not so fast, babybird,” Dick chided. “Just-” he cut himself off, looking conflicted. The beat on his thigh increased briefly before he clenched his fist around the fabric of his pants.  “If Jason or anyone ever tries to do anything to you like that, or hurts you in any way ever again,” he began, his eyes staring daggers into Tim’s, “you let me know.” 

“What?” Tim asked, dumbfounded at the original Robin’s strong reaction. Why was he acting like this? …. 

“If anyone, including Jason, ever tries to hurt you in any way, doesn’t matter if it’s as Robin or as you, you let me know… please,” Dick repeated, the last word coming out as more of an afterthought. 

Tim took a moment to absorb the words. 

Now why in the hell would he want to know about that? Tim got hurt all the fucking time. Both as Robin and as plain old Tim. It’s not like it was a big deal. And it’s not like this time was really any different. Tim had just overreacted this time and it just happened that Jason had been the one on the other side of it. He really wasn’t even that upset over it, really! Sometimes his body just reacts without his permission and sure the thought of Red Hood being near him still made his skin crawl sometimes but- 

But Jason was different from Hood. Or, at least that’s how it seemed to play out in Tim’s fucked up brain. 

“Why?” Tim asked finally, risking an unfavorable response. 

“Because I’ll handle it.” Dick said simply. 

Tim, openly gaped at him. For a moment, Tim wasn’t sure how to react. But… after a beat, Tim felt touched, unable to push back the warmth in his chest at the declaration. 

Dick would handle it. 

Dick would take care of it. 

It… it was a nice thought. 

Tim wasn’t sure how serious he really was about that. 

But… It was a nice thought regardless. 

Of course at that exact moment one of the sausages had to catch on fire.

“Oh Shit!” Dick exclaimed, just staring at it for a beat before leaping to his feet and starting to beat back the flames with the towel he had thrown over his shoulder earlier. Tim, no help whatsoever, remained curled up on the floor as he tried to process the emotional whiplash he was currently experiencing. 

To make matters worse, and once again because the universe hated Tim, it appeared that Jason decided that this was the perfect time to come back from the grocery store as the sound of a key in the lock had both Bats turning their head at the sound. 

Subsequently, this meant that Dick had stopped trying to beat back the fire in favor of turning towards the door. 

So, when Jason came strolling through the door, whistling some old rock song while carrying two brown bags filled to the brim with food, he was greeted with two pairs of wide eyes and a fire raging on his kitchen stove. 

He stopped abruptly, his whistling dying in his throat. His eyes went between Dick, Tim, and the fire, back to Tim, and then back to the fire. 

For a brief moment, everything was at a stand still.

Tim would have laughed at the complete ridiculousness of the situation if the fire wasn’t actively growing by the second. 

“Dick what the fuck ?!” he swore, dropping the bags in favor of charging towards the steadily growing flames. He raced to the cabinets under the sink, grabbing a fire extinguisher from its depths, and turning around before spraying the white contents all over his stove and counter tops. Dick barely managed to leap out of the way next to Tim before the assault. 

Jason sprayed the area for a good thirty seconds, Dick and Tim backing up a bit and covering their eyes with their hands. 

When all was said and done, the three of them stared at each other, all breathing heavily. 

“Jay,” Dick said with a distinct whine, his odd mood from earlier apparently vanishing along with the flames. “You ruined breakfast!” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason ribbed back, tiredly scrubbed his eyes. Tim winced as he imaged bright green pools swirling underneath those eyelids“You’ll be getting the bill for that along with my coffee table by the way.” 

Coffee Table?...

Tim glanced over to where he knew the coffee table should be but found the space strangely empty. 

Huh…. 

How did he not notice that earlier? 

“It’s not my fault you have the shittiest furniture and appliances,” Dick shot back good naturedly, running his hands through his hair. 

“Why is your concussed ass cooking anyways?” Jason questioned with a scrunched face. 

Concussed …? 

Tim looked to Dick, dragging his eyes over his predecessor. 

Why is he concussed?... 

Why didn’t he say anything?! 

“I was hungry,” Dick shrugged. “What was I supposed to do?” 

It was at this moment that Tim also noticed the demolished kitchen table. To be honest, their exchange was not painting a pretty picture. In fact, Tim is surprised that Dick only walked away with a concussion.

Tim had almost died when he fought Hood.

“Eat a snack like a normal fucking person!” Jason shot back with a growl, setting down the fire extinguisher with a huff. The moment, a little too aggressive for Tim’s liking, had to remind himself that even if Jason did want to hurt him again, Dick was here. 

Dick wouldn’t let Jason hurt him. At least, that is what Tim is choosing to believe for the time being.

So, for the moment, he was safe. 

It was at that moment, Jason’s eyes turned to Tim, causing him to flinch back despite himself. 

“Hey there Timbo” He said, clearing his throat around the words. “How are you feeling?” Tim stood up from his crouched position and studied the crime lord for a moment.

“Fine,” he breathed. “I’m fine.” Jason's eyes slide over to Dick, giving him a look that Tim couldn’t quite decipher before it slipped away. 

Everything was quiet again for a beat, the three just staring at each other. 

 As one would expect, Jason was the one who broke first. 

“Oh for fucks sake!” Jason grumbled, going to pick up his discarded groceries. “I can’t take this wishy washy bullshit right now,” he went on. He bent down, retrieving the goods. “Dick, I’m assuming you got absolutely nowhere before you decided to barbecue my stovetop.” 

“Your stove barbecued itself man,” Dick protested, throwing his hands up. “I was but an unfortunate instrument,” he said. “I was played like a fiddle!” 

“The only thing that’s about to be an unfortunate instrument is my foot when it goes up your ass!” Jason exclaimed with all the sass of a yowling, soaking wet cat. 

Tim barely managed to suppress a snort at the retort. Jason may be night terror inducing but no one could ever claim he wasn’t funny. 

“I know you are but what am I?” Dick retorted automatically. 

Jason paused, his left eye twitching as he stared at him. “Tha-that doesn’t even make any sense.” 

“Uh, actually you don’t make any sense,” Dick said breezily. 

 “Just take Timbo in the room while I clean up your mess.” Jason sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“But-”

“No buts!”

“However-” Dick amended, holding his index fingers out and wagging them around childishly. 

“No!”

“Additionally-” 

“Dick!” Jason snapped, sighing. Tim could tell he was toeing the lines of his resolve. 

“Jason!” Dick exclaimed, holding his arms out, as if waiting for a hug. If the situation wasn’t so ridiculous in itself, Tim knows he would be uncomfortable with Jason’s obvious displeasure. In any other scenario, he would be punching Dick in the ribs for riling up one of the most dangerous criminals in Gotham. But for the moment, he was finding it quite amusing. 

“Just…” he looked at the current state of his kitchen in defeat. “Take the pipsqueak to the room and I'll be there in five.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “And I better find all my shit in my cabinets, Dickwad.”   

“Yeah, yeah, Aye aye captain, everything is all there,” Dick said with a salute and a wink, only wobbling slightly as he stood up before easily correcting himself. Tim caught the worried look that flitted across Jason's face before he buried it. “Let’s go little bird,” Dick added, gently guiding Tim back to the room he’d run out of not too long ago. 

Tim chose not to comment on the fact that Dick never said he didn’t go through Jason's Kitchen Cabinets. 

Dick shut the door gently once they were back in the room. Faintly, Tim could hear Jason attempting to clean up the mess from the fire extinguisher. Jokes on him, Tim is pretty sure he doesn’t have vinegar, which is crucial when cleaning up the dry powder from that specific brand of extinguisher. But, Tim thinks it better if Jason figures that out himself. 

No need for Tim to get involved. 

“So, Tim,” Dick began easily, swinging around from shutting the door and casually leaning up against the wall. Tim is almost ninety percent sure the lean was not intentional and was actually Dicks way of attempting to disguise his temporarily impaired balance. 

He isn’t sure how he didn’t notice it earlier. 

Tim always notices things. 

Why didn’t he notice that…? 

“Be completely honest with me for a grip, okay?” Dick went on breezily. “Can you do that for me?” 

Tim nodded apprehensive, unsure of where this was going. 

“Do you want to never see Jason again?” 

Tim narrowed his eyes, confused with where this was going to go. “Huh?” he vocalized eloquently. He tipped his head to the side, giving Dick a once over.“Why does that matter?” 

“Because your feelings on family matters are important,” Dick responded, oblivious to how his word choice felt like a kick in the chest. “If being around Jason is a hard limit for you, then he’s out.” Dick explained as if it was obvious and not something Tim had ever dreamed of hearing. “I am a thousand percent serious, Tim.” Dick added softly, no doubt catching onto Tim’s disbelief.

Tim blinked.

Regardless, the words didn’t quite register. 

“Why?”

Dick raised his right eyebrow, his lips quirking downward before correcting course and settling the lines of his mouth upward. 

Tim felt like Dick was staring at his soul.

“He’s- he’s-” Tim started, the words bubbling up his throat, trying to find the words to explain that if anyone should be out, it should be him . Tim was only ever meant to be temporary. He’s fucking patchwork! Everyone knows that when you fix something with patchwork that the garment is never quite the same. But now, the original piece is back! The garment can be fixed properly now. 

All that’s left to do is rip out the patchwork.

It’s simple! 

Really, it is. 

So, that begs the question then. 

Why is Dick looking at him like he’s worth something…? 

Why is Dick acting like Tim has any say in ‘family matters’ when he’s barely good enough to qualify as Robin, let alone a Wayne Family member. 

“He’s important,” Tim settled on, aware that his prolonged silence was making Dick look at him funny. . 

“So are you,” Dick shot back, punctuating his simple sentence with a yawn. “Arguably more so considering you are a child and he is a grown man.” 

Tim winced. 

Like, sure, objectively he is a child. 

But…

Tim isn’t like other childrens.

He can handle himself. 

He doesn’t need to be coddled and taken care of. 

He doesn’t-

He doesn’t need things like other kids do. 

Tim is resourceful and adaptable and can make it work with what he has. So… so he knows that if… this is all taken away, well he’ll survive. 

“I would say child is a strong word,” Tim responded after what could have been seconds or minutes wrapped up in his thoughts. 

Dick is still giving him that soul baring stare. 

“I’m hardly one, really,” Tim goes on, unable to stop his mouth from forming the words. He cringes immediately after.

Dick ducks his head, scratching the back of his neck with a laugh as he slid down the wall until he was crisscross applesauce on the floor. 

“You know,” Dick started with a sigh. “I felt the same way when I was your age.” His eyes flicker down to the floor then back to Tim. “Being Robin does that to a person I guess,” he tacked on. 

He fiddled with his fingers, staring at them intently for a beat before looking up at Tim again, gaze intense. 

Tim stayed silent, unsure how to explain or if he even wanted to explain that he’d felt this way long before he’d taken on the mantle. 

“I meant what I said,” Dick reiterated. “I care about Jason,” he went on with a clouded expression, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “I always will but-” he paused, giving Tim a once over. For a split second, his gaze lingered on Tim’s neck. “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s done some pretty fucked up things, especially where it concerns you Tim.” 

Dick methodically popped his knuckles, lost in thought. 

Tim shuddered as memories from the Tower danced through his mind, tingling racing up his spine. Yet, it was hard to recognize the person that hurt him in the Tower with the one in the kitchen no doubt struggling to clean up fire extinguisher residue. 

Hood hurt him in the Tower. Hood threatened to… to rape him. Even if it really was just a ploy, Tim had believed it. 

Hell, Tim had accepted it. 

However, it was Jason who took care of him while he was sick. Jason let Tim take over his bed. Jason made Tim soup.

Sure, Tim is at the very least unnerved by both of these incarnations of the second Robin. 

But… there was a distinction there now that wasn’t there before.

Hood evoked a strong panic response. 

Jason evoked… a slightly less strong panic response in conjunction with wishful nostalgia from when Tim was a kid, sneaking out of his lonely Manner and taking stuipd photographs of his hero.  

And really, deep down, and putting all the assault, battery, and murder attempt aside, Jason Todd will always be Tim’s hero. 

He’ll always be Tim’s Robin.

Tim knows at his core that the Jason from his childhood is still somewhere inside present Jason. And to be fair, it’s not Jason's fault that Joker brutally murdered him and then he was subsequently brought back to life by the Lazarus Pit.

He has the right to be a little fucked up in the head.

Tim just wished that ‘being a little fucked up in the head’ hadn’t involved trying to kill him.

Plus, if Tim can work things out with Jason, it’ll make it easier for him to come back and be with his family. And sure, that would make Tim’s place obsolete but that was the plan anyways, right? 

He’s been over this a thousand times in his head. 

Tim is patchwork.

He’s temporary.

A goddamn replacement.

Dick shouldn’t even be asking him if Jason is welcome back. He should be telling Tim that Jason was coming back whether he liked it or not. He should be telling Tim to hit the road and that he wasn’t required anymore. 

He’s played his part. 

Or well, he’s almost played his part. 

But regardless, Tim’s time with the Wayne's was running out. 

Yet, despite that, Dick asked anyway because he was kind like that.

Putting aside whether or not Tim believed he deserved a say in the matter, Dick’s question still stands.

Is being around Jason a hard limit for Tim?

He bit his lip, thoughts racing. 

Is being around Jason a hard limit for Tim?

Laughter, years old, rang through his ears. The image of a small boy excitedly flying through the air and Batman trailing behind him like a shadow danced before his eyes. 

Is being around Jason a hard limit for Tim?

No . 

No, it wasn’t.

Tim doesn’t think he would have admitted it if it was though. But, it was nice to find that he wouldn’t have to lie to Dick. 

Jason was going to return to the family, no matter what anyone else thought of the matter. (Including Jason) 

“Earth to Tim,” Dick rumbled easily, pulling Tim out of his deliberations. 

“Hood hurt me in the tower,” Tim responded finally, parroting his thoughts, managing to meet Dicks eyes for the first time since entering the room. “Jason made me soup.” 

He prayed that Dick got the message. Tim doesn’t think he could fully and coherently explain it any better than that right now without having a quarterlife crisis and a mental breakdown.

Dick titled his head, seemingly mulling over the words as they bounced around in his skull.

“Okay then,” Dick said with a nod as he bounced up on his heels. He thumped back into the wall with a huff. “No Red Hood contact, probational Jason contact?” he offered, as if it was really that simple.

Tim breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank God for Dick Grayson.

Just as Tim was about to affirm the terms Dick offered, Jason slammed open the door, barely missing Dick who threw himself out of the way at the last second with a yelp.

Somehow, Dick managed to vault himself onto the bed instead of landing on the floor. How he managed that while concussed and no doubt dizzy, Tim will never know.

Jason strolled through the door, Hair disheveled, face pinched and muttering curses under his breath. 

Tim is guessing that his guess was correct and that Jason did not have any vinegar.

“No luck?” Dick asked, a smirk firmly in place.

“No,” Jason huffed, looking like he wanted to slam the door. However, after a quick glance in Tim’s direction, he gently nudged it closed with his boot. 

Way to be subtle, Jace.

“So, uhm-” Jason said, clearing his throat, eyes darting around the room. “I-I wanted to have a talk with you, Timbo,” he began. His eyes shifted around the room, almost as if he was looking for an escape route. 

Tim understood the compulsion, sympathy curling up his spine.

“Listen I-” Jason started, stopping himself short, gaze turning steely. “I don’t know what all was said between you and bird brain and honestly it doesn’t matter.” 

Tim might have gotten nervous at those words if  Jason wasn’t looking around the room like a wild animal trapped in a cage again. 

A mixture of uneasiness and worry prickled up his spine. He kept on guard for the telltale sign of the green eyes. 

For a brief moment, Tim thought Jason was going to be sick.

Sympathy churned into guilt in Tim’s gut and his knees almost buckled, lightheaded. 

“Point is,” Jason ground out, titling his head, finally meeting Tim’s eyes. “I am so, so fucking sorry for all the awful shit I did to you, Tim.” 

Tim felt himself wobble on his feet, heart oddly steady in his chest despite the mess of nerves and guilt. 

“There is no excuse for- '' Jason's voice cracked, he cleared his throat again, eyes flickering down for a brief moment before returning to the piercing gaze he’d been pinning Tim with seconds prior. “-for hurting you like I did.”

 Now that the floodgates were open, there was no stopping it. 

“I was hurt and angry and bitter and-” He heaved in a breath, blinking harshly. “-I took all my shit out on you and it was so fucking stuipd and delusional and wrong .”

He blew the breath out.

“I was wrong, Tim.” Jason repeated, voice wrecked and tears glinting in his eyes in the low light of the room. “I need you to know that I-I was wrong .” His voice cracked, knuckles white under the force of his clenched fists but true to his nature, Jason persevered. “You’re not a Replacement, kid.” A single tear ran down Jason's cheek. Tim feels like he’s been shot. “You’re the best of us.”

…

…

…

Surely… surely he couldn’t mean that. 

Surely, Jason , couldn’t mean that….

Tim felt something in his chest snap. 

Tim , who had always known he didn’t belong, Tim who had desperately chased after the approval of others his entire life, Tim , who had taken the word ‘Replacement’ and craved that shit into the very fucking fiber of his being; was being told that he- 

That he- 

That he wasn’t-

No-

No. 

No!

It was a trick!

This all had to be a trick. 

Tim’s eyes darted between Jason and Dick, his own eyes brimming with tears against his will.

Like the fucking weakling he was. 

Heat flooded his cheeks, heart pounding and fist tightening reflexively.

Tim dropped his eyes to the ground, ignoring the way the silence stretched on.

He could practically hear Father and Mother now.

‘ Stop crying Timothy, it’s unsightly. ”

“ Shut up Tim before I give you a real reason to cry ”

‘ You make our life difficult enough, Timothy. Must you insist on making it harder ?’

Tim drug his gaze back up, glancing between Jason and Dick again as a wave of silent tears began to trickle down his cheeks. Dick had his ever present poker face but his eyes, soft and twisted with concern, told Tim everything he needed to know. Jason looked like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the wind to blow him off. 

He did that to Jason. 

He blinked harshly.

Guilt returned, almost choking him and-

A thought occurred to him.

No-

No he didn’t do that to just Jason.

He did that to the Red Hood.

Vindictive was never a word Tim would use to describe himself. So, he was completely caught off guard when a rush of satisfaction rushed through his veins. And, for one glorious moment, Tim was glad Jason was hurting. 

…….

The moment didn’t last long. 

Because as much as Tim wants to believe that Jason and the Red Hood were two different people, ultimately they were one and the same. As easy as it is to separate the two entities in his head, it wasn’t accurate.

Tim can’t be happy that the Red Hood was hurting because that would mean that Jason was hurting. 

They were two sides of the same coin.

Jason Todd was the Red Hood and the Red Hood was Jason Todd. 

One cannot exist without the other. 

So yes, he did make Jason feel like that. 

He made his hero feel like that .

And well, that just wouldn’t do.

“I forgive you,” Tim intoned, the words falling from his lips before he could think twice. A strangled sob caught in his throat. “I forgive you,” he repeated, stronger this time, despite knowing in his heart that the statement was only partially true. 

Tim thinks he can forgive Jason. 

As for the Hood….

He caught Dick’s eye, his intense gaze catching Tim off guard. 

For a second, it seemed like Dick was staring into his head, hearing the battle that was currently ravishing his synapses. 

“What the fuck did you just say to me,” Jason asked incredulously, snapping Tim out of his revelation. 

Uh oh.

“Jay,” Dick said in a warning tone, standing up from the bed. 

“Did he just say what I think he said?” Jason demands, whipping to the side to face Dick. 

The latter let out a long suffering sigh in response. “I believe we both have a set of working ears.”

“No, no, no, no,” Jason laughed, almost frantically as he began to pace in the entryway. “There’s no fucking way he just said what I think he said because if so, then I’m going to have to knock some goddamn sense into him!” 

Tim flinched, his silent tears dripping off his face as his breath hitched.

“No because,” Jason restarted, a familiar green flashing vibrantly before the man visibly shook the angry expression away. “In all honesty, you should tell me to go fuck myself and never want to see me again.” 

What…

“Frankly, you should not forgive me, Tim,” Jason went on. “The best possible case here is me subtracting myself from the equations and maybe testing driving another coffin or something.

Tim vaguely registered Dick admonishing Jason.

That was all background noise though.

Jason can’t leave. 

Jason can’t die! 

Not again!

Not when Tim has already decided that he force himself to put aside all the crap Hood put him through. Or at the very least grit his teeth and deal with it!

“In fact, that’s the option I recommend.” Jason added ruefully, sending Dick a pointed look, scratching the back of his neck. 

Tim knows Dick was about to lay into Jason after that little comment. But Tim somehow beat him to it. 

“No!” Tim yelled, loud and childish and not caring that he was speaking out of turn, his heart thundering in his chest.

Mother would be so disappointed if she witnessed his unsightly behavior. 

He didn’t care though.

Because Jason can’t leave! He’s back now. He has to stay. 

Bruce and Dick need him.

Bruce almost has his son back. 

Dick almost has his brother back.

Tim would never forgive himself if he chased Jason away like this. 

Besides, it’s not like Tim can’t be around Jason. 

He just can’t be around Hood. 

So, Jason has to stay.

He has to!

Tim registers that he’s not standing any longer. 

He’s on his knees, his arms encircling his small frame as he begins to shake apart. Movement to the right of him vaguely catches his attention but he quickly loses focus on that when a violent tremor racks his body. He heaves in choked breaths as tears blur his vision. He feels fucking ridiculous but he can’t stop. 

“You can’t, you can’t, you can’t please don’t .” Tim babbled out, more so feeling the words form then hearing him. 

“Move your ass,” Dick grunted as he manhandled Jason out of the way and then pressed Tim’s back against his chest. “Come on, just take a deep breath Tim. You’re okay,” he whispered

“The fuck is this?” Jason asked, momentarily yanking at his hair, anger drawing him taught like a bow string.. “I fucked you up so bad you’re having a freak out when I try to leave and set things right,” he laughed, harsh and bitter and nothing like the laughs the Tim used to hear from him back when he was Robin.

“Maybe refrain from violence when you are trying to apologize, Jay,” Dick reminded gentle but firm. Meanwhile, he telegraphed his breathing pattern, no doubt trying to get Tim’s rapid breaths under control. Despite his tone, the older man’s hold on Tim tightened protectively. 

Despite making him feel slightly more secure and almost touched, It made Tim cry harder. Dick shouldn’t be worrying about Tim right now when Jason was trying to fucking leave again???

That was his little brother and Tim was over here making shit about him like a self centered brat, yet again! 

Tim let out another mangled sob, doing his best to suppress it but failing.  

Dick began to tap out an unfamiliar pattern on the front of Tim’s shoulders, the sensation slightly grounding.

“I don’t deserve forgiveness,” Jason spat. “That’s not the point here, Tim.” 

“Jason,” Dick warned, shifting again. “Not helping!” 

“Shut your fucking trap Dickface,” Jason warned back, an accusing finger pointing at the original Robin. “Let me say my peace damn, Jesus Christ.”

“You need to calm down,” Dick responded evenly. 

Jason's continued pacing. 

“He should not be rolling over and forgiving me after one lousy apology!” Jason shouted. 

“Jay-”

“I had this whole fucking speech in my head” He roared, gesturing to his temple. “And I rehearsed it a thousand times in my head and I came up with solutions and compromises and everything from A to fucking Z and the twerp says he forgives me!??” 

“Jason!” Dick admonished, raising his voice for the first time. “ Look at me ,” he ordered, using his ‘in the field voice’.

“What?!” Jason roared back, throwing his arms up, out of breath from his rant. His eyes glowed brightly, a stark reminder of why they were here in the first place. 

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, trying to claw his way back from the edge. 

“Eyes,” Dick supplied with a tap to his temple. 

“What?” Jason repeated, this time confusion lacing his tone. 

“You’re glowing, Little Wing,” Dick explained kindly. “And you’re scaring us.”

Tim would’ve snorted if he had the correct amount of air in his lungs for that. 

‘Us’.

Come on Dick, just call it like it is.

‘O-Oh, I-” Jason started, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize,” he added, almost to himself. 

“We’re okay,” Dick responded, tone airy and light. “I think this is a good time for Tim to get a turn with the talking stick,” he declared, shoving his left hand into his pocket.

“What are you-” Jason started begrudgingly, blinking rapidly as the green began to fade from his eyes.

Tim felt his lungs stop seizing at the sight.

Dick pulled out a singular wooden chopstick triumphantly. 

“-talking about..” Jason trailed off as he eyed the takeout chop stick with a resigned look.

“Dick?” Jason intoned

“Jason.” 

“Where did you get that?” 

“Get what?” 

“The chop stick”

“What chopstick?” Dick asked.“This is the talking stick!” 

Jason groaned. “Okay, okay where did you get the ‘talking stick’?” 

“Secret,” Dick said with a roll of his eyes. “Duh.” 

“You rummaged through my kitchen drawers didn’t you?”

“How dare you-” 

“After I told you not to,” Jason added. “And you swore you didn’t.” 

“That could be a reasonable conclusion.” 

“Dick-”

“But to be fair I never swore anything.”

“You’re actually an insufferable idiot” 

“Takes one to know one” Dick shot back with a cheeky smile. “And frankly, you are violating the sacred rules of the talking stick!” 

“Dickface I swear to-” 

“Nuuh” Dick interrupted, waving the ‘talking stick’ around. “Only the one holding the stick can talk!” 

“Dick!” 

“ Shhhhhh !” 

“Di-”

“ SHHHHHH !” 

“Fine!” Jason conceded, left eyelid twitching as he grumpily sunk to the floor, crossing his legs and propping his face up with his right hand. 

He rolled his eyes and made a ‘get on with it’ motion. 

“Now that Oscar the Grouch over here has said his peace,” Dick started, turning to Tim with a smile. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on in that big brain of yours, Baby bird.” Dick held out the ‘talking stick’ to Tim, waving it around expectantly. Tim shifted out of the older Robin’s hold, face wet and eyes sore. 

He knew he looked a mess. Yet, no one was mentioning his little freakout.

Weird.

Tim eyed the chopstick for a second, unable to suppress the fond huff as he took it. Dick sank to the floor as well, leaving Tim as the only one sitting up, almost as if he was looming over the others. He had a feeling Dick did that on purpose. 

Tim fiddled with the stick for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. 

“Well get on-” Jason started before Dick promptly kicked him in the shin. “Geez, I get it!” Another kick. “Sto-” Another. 

Jason threw his hands up, huffing as he leaned back against the wall with a glare. 

Despite looking like a wet cat, Jason was quiet after that. 

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Tim admitted quietly after a beat. He laid the stick in his lap, his hands finding each other, nervously wringing together. 

A nasty habit.

One mother would scold him for if she saw.

He let his hands drop, instead taking his bottom lip in between his teeth before remembering she should like that either and released it.

Sighing softly, Tim hung his head, not wanting to provoke anyone anymore than he had with his disappointing response and his disappointing nervous tics.

“That’s okay,” Dick replied, voice easy and warm.

“Why do you-” 

Another kick followed by another huff. 

Tim couldn’t help the slight snort he let slip out.

“Why don’t I just ask a few questions as you can tell us what you think?” Dick proposed, adjusting his position to lean up against the mattress. Jason rubbed his shin grumpily next to him, back against the wall facing the bed, eyeing what Tim presumes to be his kicking target on Dick if he decided to take another hit at him. 

Tim paused, considering. “That works.” His mouth was dry.

“Okay, great!” Dick said with a clap, clearing his throat. “Why don’t we start out with a simple one then?” 

Tim nodded, clutching the ‘talking stick’ in his hand, eyes darting between Dick and Jason. 

“Are you presently afraid of Jason?” Dick asked. 

Tim didn’t miss the way Jason subtly flinched, working his jaw a few times.

“As in, am I afraid of him at this moment?” 

Tim needed clarity.

He didn’t want to say the wrong thing on accident and make everything worse. Lord knows he’s an expert at that. 

“Sure.” 

Tim was quiet, assessing the whirlwind of emotions battling for dominance in his chest. “I-I don’t think I am afraid?” Tim started, furrowing his brows. His eyes flickered down to Jason’s who was watching him like a hawk. A tint of green swirled around his normally blue Iris’. Tim immediately averted his eyes, bracing for whatever Jason was about to throw at him.nTim momentarily squeezed his eyes shut on instinct, knowing that green eyes meant pain. If he was lucky, Dick would intervene again before things got too bad. 

When a beat passed, and the pain didn’t come, Tim cracked his eyes.

Dick was looking at him with a cautious expression, as if he was expecting Tim to bolt. Meanwhile Jason was working his jaw again as the green flickered in and out.

“Okay, Timbo?” Jason asked, eyes zeroing in on Tim.

Tim furrowed his brow, head tilting as the cogs in his brain turned. 

Jason’s eyes were glowing. 

But-

He wasn’t losing control….? 

Well. 

He wasn’t angry at the moment maybe? 

But why are his eyes glowing if he isn’t-

Jason's words from minutes earlier echo in his ears.

“I didn’t realize.”

Suddenly it clicks. 

The Pit doesn’t just amplify Jason's anger. 

It amplifies all of his emotions.

And Jason can’t control it. 

Or at the very least he couldn’t. Not when he first came back to Gotham. 

That… that is why he goes into such a rage around Tim. 

His bitterness and jealousy, all perfectly normal emotions especially for someone in his position, are essentially magnified due to the Pit's influence. 

Jason feels everything much more intensely than the average person.

It… it all makes sense.

The flashing eyes, the sudden rages, the…the destroying a wall to keep from hurting Tim; (And if that wasn’t a wild trip to suddenly remember, Tim doesn’t know what is) It all makes so much more sense now. 

Jesus Christ, Tim was an idiot! 

How did he not see this before?!

Some genius he is!

Jason…. His hero Jason, has been suffering from Goddamned Pit Madness this entire time. 

And Tim had never put it together. He’d been suffering all this time. And Tim had overlooked it.

“Tim,” Dick prompted. 

Tim felt himself slingshot back to the situation at hand. 

“I don’t think I am afraid,” Time repeats, tongue heavy in his mouth, trying to speak over the noise of his thoughts.“But…. I am-”he cut himself off, unable to organize his thoughts. and debating on if he should actually answer truthfully or not.

Tim’s feelings are moot at this point, right?. Or at least, they should be. 

Jason was sick.

It wasn’t his fault. 

Not-Not entirely at least. 

Right?

It would be so much easier to lie and just have this conversation put to rest. Tim could pretend that everything was fine. He was good at it. He’d done it his whole life. Tim was an expert at pretending. And there was all the more reason to know, especially now that Tim’s slow little pea brain has put the puzzle pieces together. But, Tim knows that won’t fly with Dick, let alone Jason, especially if Tim wants Jason to be open to the idea of reuniting with his family. 

He obviously feels guilt about what has happened between them and to be fair, it wasn’t totally his fault!

Tim gets that.

Really , everything has slotted into place now. 

However, that little fact doesn’t do much for the pit in his stomach that Tim gets whenever he so much as thinks of the Hood. It doesn’t suddenly make the past year or so of pain and terror disappear. Maybe… maybe if it had just been a one time thing, Tim wouldn’t be such a big fucking baby about the whole thing.

Cause that’s what he’s being, dammit. 

A big fucking wuss. 

He has a feeling vocalizing this would not please Dick or Jason. For some reason they appeared to be under the impression that Tim was deserving of their consideration. 

They’ll eventually learn how useless and unworthy Tim is. 

He’s sure of it. 

But in the meantime, if he is going to convince Jason to come back, if he’s going to make this work and Tim is actually going to try and get Jason back with his family, then maybe some bits of the truth wouldn’t hurt, right? 

Besides, if Jason needs to clear his conscience about all the shit he did to him and shovel out all the dark shit in his brain, then Tim would grab a shovel if it meant Dick and Bruce could have him back.

“Tim?” Dick said, breaking him out of his internal debate. Tim snapped his head up, a flush climbing up his cheek bones. 

He hadn’t meant to be in his head for that long. 

“Sorry,” Tim apologized with a shake of his head, feeling more settled now that he’d figured it out. Now Jason’s rages weren’t just senseless violence. Now Tim could assign a purpose to them. Tim always felt better when he understood why he was being hurt. It’s why he always preferred when mother would punish him as opposed to father. She would at least tell him what a useless waste of space he was and tell him how to fix it.

“I am not scared of him at this moment,” Tim decided on, “but I am nervous.” 

.“Nervous because he’s in the room?” Dick retorted, question at the ready.

Tim shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious . “I guess.” 

“Do you want him to leave?”

“ No .” Tim answered quickly. 

“What is he doing that is making you nervous?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Time responded, surprising himself at how truthful that statement was. Jason was being perfectly normal at the moment. Well, as normal as Jason can be of course. But really, his eyes weren’t even flashing or anything. But Tim could still feel the rapid staccato of his heart pounding against his rib cage.

“That’s okay,” Dick reassured. “Sometimes we don’t know why we feel the way we feel and that’s perfectly normal.” Tim would resent Dick’s tone if it was coming from anyone else.

Dick motioned for Tim to hand him the ‘talking stick’ which he did immediately. He waved it at Jason, who snatched it gruffly. 

“If you’re not scared of me,” Jason grumbled. “You’re either lying or an idiot, Timmy!” 

Dick snatched the stick back, sending another kick to Jason's shin. 

“DUDE!” 

“No insulting!” 

“BUT”

“Here you go, Tim,” Dick said as he handed him back the chopstick. Jason protested under his breath in the background, making sure to scoot out of kicking distance this time. 

Luckily for him, Dick let that one slide. 

“I am scared of you sometimes,” Tim amended quietly, physically forcing the words out around the lump in his throat. “Just not at the moment.” 

“Why is that, Tim?” Dick prompted. 

“He’s not trying to kill me,” he replied bluntly. 

Duh.

Jason snorted at that and Dick blinked at him for a moment before allowing himself to laugh. 

“Yeah-Yeah that makes sense.” Another full body laugh “Dumb question.” 

“You took care of me too,” Tim added, not meeting Jason’s eyes. “I-I don’t remember most of it but you could have taken me out at any time. You could have not beaten up the wall and instead  beaten in my face.” he takes a breath before he utters the next part. “You could have left me with the traffickers too.” 

Jason outright flinched this time. 

The flash of green was back, further confirming Tim’s hypothesis.

“But you didn’t.” 

Jason held his hands out, signaling that he wanted the stick. Tim looked to Dick and the older man nodded in confirmation. 

Tim passed the stick to Jason. 

“I made you think I was going to rape you,” Jason blurted, the words flying out of him. 

Green eyes returned, unshed tears at the waterline.

Tim still couldn’t suppress the flinch at their appearance. 

He’d have to work on that, especially if he needed to convince Jason to come back.

“You knew it was a trick, you didn’t believe it but then I made you believe it.” His voice cracked, prompting Jason to clear his throat. “I hit you and put a gun to your head,” he went on, voice barely a whisper. “That’s not even counting all the other awful shit I've done to you. You said it yourself,” he laughed bitterly. “I tried to kill you.” 

“Red Hood tried to kill me,” Tim corrected quietly, his voice sounding unconvincing even to his own ears. 

He cringed. 

Tim knew he was going to need to be more believable than that if he was going to succeed.

“I am the Red Hood.” 

“But you’re also Jason.” Tim replied. “I may not be okay being around the Red Hood, but I think I can try to be around Jason.” 

Jason laughed incredulously, shaking his head. 

“That’s the stupidest shit i’ve ever heard.” He laughed harder. “You can’t just forgive me like that,” he protested. “You shouldn’t force yourself to be around me just because of Dickwad and the Big Bad Bat. Besides, it’s not like Jason is some saint compared to Hood. You can’t have one without the other.” 

“I-I know okay,” Tim said. “But even knowing that, you are split up in my head.”

“That’s not healthy!” 

“Okay and?” Tim retorted, irritation bubbling in his chest. Here he is trying his hardest and Jason is tossing his chance away! “You tried to murder me so who’s really the unhealthy one here,” he sniped. He was not about to let Jason weasel his way away from Dick and Bruce on account of Tim. 

It was just not happening.

Period.

It wasn’t happening before and it especially wasn’t happening now that Tim had worked out the truth.

Tim can think himself in circles all day long about the logistics of Jason vs. the Hood but he’s tired of thinking.

He’s made up his mind. 

Jason is staying whether he likes it or not.

Pit madness be damned.

He’s going to come back to his family whether he likes it or not. 

And he’s going to be around Tim whether he fucking likes it or not.

Jason rolled his eyes. “You would be safer if I subtracted myself from the equation.” Jason shot a look at Dick. “You all would.” 

“I think I have earned the right to choose what happens when it comes to you and I,” Tim argued, not afraid to hit below the belt to get his desired results. “Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Jason blinked, obviously trying to work his way around the argument Tim presented. 

For a moment, Tim thought he was short circuiting. 

“If you want to make things up to me, then let me decide how you do it,” Tim went on once it became clear that Jason was rendered mute for the moment. “And I say you have to stay if you want to do that.” 

Tim from four days earlier would not have believed those words just came out of his mouth. 

Yet here he was. 

“Well shit,” Jason laughed, watery and stunned. “Hard to argue with that one, Timmers.”  

Dick, meanwhile, had a pleased expression stretching across his tired features. “I feel like a proud mother,” he fake sniffed. 

“Shut up, dumbass,” Jason hissed, throwing the talking stick at him.

“I’m wounded!” Dick proclaimed dramatically, slumping over onto Tim. “Man down!”

Tim found himself laughing softly as Jason grabbed Dicks foot and dragged him across the floor. “Stop being a big baby.” 

Dick gripped onto the floor like a cat about to be thrown into a bath.

“Unhand me!” Dick cried out. 

“Make me,” Jason shot back. 

The two quickly devolved into a semi wrestling match. Tim couldn’t help the smile that wormed its way onto his face despite the exhaustion that was weighing heavily on his bones.

Despite knowing he was going to have to get used to being around Jason, and eventually the Hood to get Jason to come home, he couldn’t help the warm feeling seeping across his body. Tim knows he just talked some big talk that he isn’t sure he can live up to. But none of that seemed to matter at the moment. Dick’s laugh was loud and deep, a cheery smile on his face. Jason, although looking grumpy, was failing to hide his grin as he attempted to pin Dick to the floor. 

This. 

This right here. 

This is what they should’ve had all along. 

This is what they could’ve had if-

If Jason didn’t die. 

No matter though. 

They can have it now. 

All Tim has to do is water the seedlings that have been planted. 

Then, once the roots take hold, he can pluck himself from the garden like the weed he is. 

The Wayne’s will be one big happy family. 

And his job will be done. 

As awful as meeting his hero was at first, maybe… maybe it was for the best. 

It will be worth it if Dick and Jason can be brothers again. 

And sure there are the details to work out.

But it will be worth it. It will all be worth it to see his hero back where he rightfully belongs. 

It will be.

It has to be. 

Jason Todd was going to have a family again.

Tim Drake was going to serve his purpose and fade into the background.

Everything will be the way it should.

Everything will be the way it was.

Surprisingly, Tim resolved to worry about all that later though. For now, he was going to enjoy the image of his hero with a rare, genuine smile on his face. 

And perhaps the most surprising thing of all, for the first time in a long time, Tim didn’t regret meeting his hero.