Chapter Text

Nights like these reminded Jason of why he had returned to Gotham. The wind was blowing, the smog wasn’t completely awful, and for once, it wasn’t fucking raining.

Truly a rare night for Gotham indeed.

Which also meant that it was a night that the Red Hood could spend chasing down leads in Crime Alley. Good weather meant that people would be up to their usual antics, and he could finally chase down some of those leads he’d been running after for the last few weeks. Hopefully without disrupt by the bat and-

“Akhi,” a voice behind him greeted quietly.

Jason whirled around, hand going to his gun before he was greeted by a familiar sight.

A little boy in a dark cloak, eyes just visible underneath. Footsteps so light that even Jason hadn’t heard them on the roof he stood on. The one overlooking the alley and surrounding streets under his protection.

“Damian?”

He knew shock colored his voice even through the modulator as he took him in. Talia hadn’t told him that they were in town. He hadn’t even heard from her in months, so what was Damian doing here? And why was no one with him?

That moment was all the warning he got as the ten-year-old latched onto his side without warning, barely seeing the kid jump. If it wasn’t for Damian’s grip and Jason’s quick reflexes, he would have definitely dropped him. Which was not ideal when he was standing on the edge of a rather tall building that they could both go toppling over.

Brat.

But he hugged him back for a long moment, holding the smaller boy close. So maybe he’d missed him, even with as busy as his return had made him.

“Kid, why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be- with the League?” Jason asked quietly as Damian adjusted to what was definitely a more tactical position. Still a hug but also something the little boy could use to his advantage if he came to a shot.

But Damian just huffed at him, shifting a little in his grasp that had nothing to do with tactical training. Very much like the ten-year-old that he was, even if he sucked at acting like one.

Jason knew ten-year-olds. Damian did not act like a ten-year-old. Usually.

“Mother dropped me off with Father. Grandfather was- removed,” he said quietly. “So I am now staying with Father to train under him.”

Fuck.

Jason really was going to kill Talia. Not that he could be surprised that she had dropped him off with Bruce, the man was the only person they knew could handle Ra’s if it came down to it. That didn’t mean she needed to drop the littlest of gremlins off with another man that would happily turn him into a child soldier. Especially when Jason himself was already in Gotham! And he knew Damian and could deal with whatever shit the kid threw his way.

Instead of saying any of that, he forced a breath out before he could start swearing. It wasn’t Damian’s fault that all of the fucking adults in his life were idiots. “So you came to find me instead of hanging out with B?” he asked, carefully pulling the boy closer and rubbing at his back gently. Reassurance where he wasn’t sure his words would be welcome. They both knew he’d never gotten along with Ra’s.

Still, Damian had come looking for him even after a man he had looked up to had likely been killed. Finally.

Which was heartwarming even if he was pissed about the whole thing. It was enough to keep the green away from the edge of his vision. Damian always managed that, somehow, despite being a little shit.

“Yes, well, they are quite… strict about their imbecilic ideals,” Damian muttered, wrinkling his nose underneath that stupid assassin hood. The most reassuring part is that he knew that Talia had never allowed the kid to actually kill anyone. “And I am aware that akhi has more sense than that.”

He couldn’t help but snort, shaking his head as he shifted so that he could keep watch from the top of the building. Putting down Damian wasn’t an option, not when the kid was being sweet, but he was supposed to be on patrol. Which meant that he still needed to keep watch. “Love the vote of the confidence there,” he grumbled halfheartedly. Like he could ever disagree. “How are you settling in with said ‘imbecilic ideals’?”

That set off a proper round of grumbles from the boy. “They do not seem to want me there. Even though I am his blood son, they just keep talking about how I am not doing what they wish,” he grumbled. “They do not take me seriously.”

It sounded like teenage grumbling, even though he knew Damian still had a few more years until he hit that point. But he could also hear beyond that. “They’re a little insufferable,” Jason agreed quietly. “You should have seen it when I first joined the family. Never thought I’d be good enough, and that was before I even knew all about this.” He motioned vaguely towards his own get-up.

Those first few months had been particularly awful because he’d had no idea what he was doing. But he’d never really outgrown his need to prove himself to Bruce. Maybe he still hadn’t but he hadn’t gotten around to thinking about that one.

“They treat me like a child! I am remarkably well trained, but they do not wish to let me out of their sight,” Damian continued to commiserate, huffing angrily. Like one of those little kittens.

This one could kill people though.

Yet Jason still chuckled. “You are a child, akhi. Remember? Even if you are a very capable child,” he reminded him quietly. A gentleness that could almost be lost behind the helmet he wore even though Damian seemed to get it. Seemed to know that he was trying to help.

“Yes, but I am certainly more capable than Drake!” Damian continued. “And he wore the Robin suit!”

Jason had told Batman that he better not find another kid in that damn suit. Not after he had returned Timothy Drake to him. But, more concerningly- “No one needs to be wearing-“

“D- child! Get away from him!”

Well that was a familiar fucking voice.

Jason sighed behind the mask, glad he had left it on, and shifted Damian so that the boy was still in his arms as he met his elder brother’s gaze. Not that Dick knew, of course, who was behind the mask, but that didn’t stop Jason from glaring.

The only reassuring part of all of this was that Dick didn’t go to calling Damian ‘Robin’. He’d have had to do something about that after the little stint with Tim.

“I don’t hurt kids. I think anyone within all of Gotham could tell you that,” he drawled as Damian turned his head to look at Nightwing, arms still wrapped around Jason’s neck. Probably a show of trust that the other hadn’t seen yet.

Even behind the domino, Jason could tell that Dick’s eyes had to be darting between them. Assessing if he could get Damian away from him without knocking both of them off the building. While Jason wouldn’t have let the kid fall, he also knew that Damian likely didn’t have a grappling hook on him. It would be a dangerous maneuver if the elder could manage it. And that was only if Damian would work with him.

“Put him down, Hood,” Nightwing finally warned, smart enough to at least not argue that Jason may be a danger to Damian. Even if it was implied, that was probably a smarter move.

“Or what? You’re going to make me?” Jason taunted even as Damian rolled his eyes.

Maybe it would have been fun if he didn’t have said child on his hip. Remarkably domestic for a big time threat to the Bats and Birds way of order, if you asked Jason. He was standing here with a kid on his hip, arms around him, while Nightwing threatened him.

All while Damian’s gaze seemed to slide between the two of him. “Does he not know?” he asked quietly, head leaning towards Jason to keep himself quiet.

“No. Would appreciate if you kept it to yourself,” Jason muttered in response.

That was what really seemed to get Dick’s attention, frowning. “Know what?” A demand. “How you two know each other?”

A smirk crossed his face behind the helmet. “Sure, let’s go with that,” he taunted. At the same time, he carefully set him down, crouching down in front of him even as Damian protested. There were some things that it was better to just let go for the time being. He didn’t have a place to take Damian long term at the moment as he set up a new, better safe house.  Couldn’t keep him safe the way he would have wanted to. Not from Ra’s or anyone else.

Maybe that was why Talia hadn’t told him.

“You go back with the big, bad vigilante over there. But if you ever want to come see, I’m always here. Ok?” he promised, voice low as he looked at him, completely ignoring the way Dick’s eyes drilled into the side of his head.

He wouldn’t leave his little brother to deal with this. Not alone. He deserved to know that he was supposed here. That he was loved. That Jason Todd would never leave him alone to deal with the world.

It wasn’t until Damian finally nodded that he pushed himself to his feet, ruffling the kid’s hair. It only earned him a half-hearted swat, causing Dick’s eyebrows to raise behind the mask that he wore. Shocker, Damian didn’t warm up well to others.

And he certainly hadn’t warmed up to the Wayne family yet.

“Remind B of my promise. I haven’t forgotten. And I will follow through, if necessary,” he warned, nudging the kid towards Nightwing.

Damian frowned at him for a moment before stepping towards Nightwing who was quick to rest a hand on his shoulder protectively. Trying to lay a claim that he couldn’t understand. “Your promise?” the elder asked, pulling Damian just a bit closer. Like he was trying to get the kid away from Jason.

“No more Robins.”

Dick’s eyebrows jumped in surprise as Damian’s mouth fell open. “But I have every right to that role, akhi! You cannot take that from me! I’m the blood son and-“

“No.”

The word came out a bit harsher than he meant it to as his younger brother jerked back in surprise. “No Robins. There’s already been enough dead ones, and B doesn’t know how to handle his child soldiers,” he said shortly, trying to even out his tone. Trying to ignore the tinge at the back of his mind that ached to kill Bruce Batman for his carelessness. “You want to train? Cool. I catch you on the streets as a vigilante? I’ll personally remove you from the situation. Understood?”

Damian’s gaze narrowed at Jason, furious. “You don’t get to tell me what do. You were supposed to be the sensible one!” he snapped, looking as close as he ever got to stomping his foot.

“I am,” Jason snapped back. He’d even train the kid, if he wanted. Guns and all. But he wasn’t letting him on the streets before the age of eighteen. “You deserve to be a kid.” His gaze slid to Dick as Damian seemed to work for something to say. “Just remind the bat. He’ll know.”

Dick had managed to straighten out his face even as his hand stayed on Damian. Clearly, no one had bothered to pass along the message. “We can keep him safe.”

The gap between them was closed before he could think, standing in front of Dick.

Realizing just how much bigger he had gotten in his time away as he glared at him. Right in his elder brother’s face even if Dick had yet to realize who he was. “You clearly fucking can’t,” he growled out, modulator making his voice even rougher. “That’s how two have died. Or did you forget?”

The way the other man tensed up, Jason knew he’d struck a chord. His own chord. The one that had his name written on his tombstone and a teenage girl that had followed suit, as he’d later found out.

“You don’t get to talk about them.”

Dick’s voice was tight, looking like he was only just restraining himself from throwing a punch. Maybe because of Damian? Jason didn’t care.

“I get to talk about whoever the fuck I want. Especially when you want my little brother to run around doing the same shit that got two children killed in the name of one man’s idea of vengeance.” If he wouldn’t let such a thing happen to Tim, he certainly wouldn’t let it happen to Damian.

Dick’s mouth opened to respond only for Jason to plow forward. “Now. You can stay the hell out of my territory. My brother-“ he nodded to Damian “- and the former replacement Robin can visit. But the bat, and you, Dickwing, don’t get to come over here and tell me what I can and can’t say. Or what I can and can’t do. Now get the fuck-“ he poked the elder in the shoulder “-off my roof.”

And maybe the other’s mouth continued to hang open as he gave another nod to Damian. “Don’t let me catch you in those stupid tights, kid,” he warned before he grappled away. Because what else could he say, really?

Especially when he knew Dick was going to start asking questions the moment his brain caught up with Jason calling Damian ‘brother’. It was an instance that he did not want to stick around for and find out just how angry the other might get at that. At finding out that Damian had a brother they didn’t know about, only to be followed by one day realizing that Damian supposedly had the same brother as Dick.

The only benefit now was that no one followed him. He just had to hope Damian would get over himself about being the ‘blood son’. What on earth had Talia even put in that kid’s head?

Chapter Text

Getting Damian settled was difficult. The boy would tell him nothing about how he knew the Red Hood except for the fact that they had interacted in the League. Which left Dick with little information to actually rely on as he was finally able to stomp down to the cave, mind whirling.

Because the Red Hood knew who they were. He knew who Dick was.

Well enough to call him Dickwing.

The insult was one his little brother had enjoyed using, much to both Bruce’s and Alfred’s annoyance. A variation on Dick’s nickname for Jason of Littlewing.

No one had called him that since Jason either. Several of the Titans had heard it, of course, but they never brought up Jason after his death.

Which meant all that was left was to go downstairs and break the news to Bruce before he changed out of his suit. Which was exactly how he wanted to spend his night, really, not on the phone with Kori or being harassed by Roy or something. No, he definitely wanted to tell his father that their secret identities were out of the bag and Damian knew the Red Hood. It really was just fucking perfect.

“So Red Hood knows who I am,” he began as he finally spotted Bruce, settled down in front of the Batcomputer. Not even bothering to turn around and look at him as he entered the cave.

“I know.”

“And I didn’t-“ Dick paused as he understood what he’d said, mind blue-screening for a moment. Bruce knew. Bruce knew that their identities were compromised with the new bad guy. Who they didn’t know. “You know? You know and you didn’t tell me?”

It was probably better that he’d left Damian upstairs because Dick was quickly cycling from nervous to tell Bruce about this change of events to furious.

Damian didn’t need to witness what was about to happen.

Bruce towards him finally, cowl at least already set to the side so that he could see his face. “Yes. He indicated as much in the letter he sent home with Tim,” his father continued slowly, as if that would make it any better. As if-

“What fucking letter, Bruce? You mean to tell me that you’ve known our identities are compromised since Tim was kidnapped and you didn’t even bother to share that said kidnapper had written you a letter?” Dick knew his voice was rising as he stomped towards the elder vigilante, hands clenching into fists as if they hadn’t been getting along better for quite a while now.

Sure, Tim had seen a few of their arguments. Almost everyone but Damian had so far. And that was because Damian was so new to the family.

The arguments of letting children be children. About sharing information hat pertained to their family. Of treating Dick himself like the partner he well and truly was now, having grown into the title he had given himself when he’d first become Robin. The ones where Dick insisted on actually knowing the information that was going to fucking impact him.

Even though Bruce was already turning around to look for something and offer it to him, he kept going. “You don’t get to keep this kind of thing from me! You’ve drilled into all of us for as long as I’ve known you to not reveal our identities but now you keep it to yourself when there’s a leak? A leak with a crime lord at that? A new player who you haven’t even figured out who he is knows who we are, and you didn’t think that was important to tell me?”

“I was still looking into it,” came the reply. Like that made it any better, though Bruce also held the letter out to him. The one that had likely come from Red Hood.

The paper hung in the air between them like a peace offering for a moment, Bruce’s hand outstretched. Like just giving him the letter would actually fix the fact that Bruce wasn’t telling him anything. Again.

Yet Dick still snatched it out of his hands. “You don’t get to say that like it fixes everything,” he muttered angrily, flipping it over carefully in his hands. If Bruce was just handing it out like this, he’d already looked at it for any fingerprints or clues. Still, he didn’t take his gloves off, not wanting to contaminate it.

The other man’s gaze never left him while he slowly began to read through it. His fingers dug into the paper, crinkling it in his grasp as he understood at least some of what was being said.

Tim’s parents had-

He could second Hood’s assessment at killing them, though he would say no such thing to Bruce. His mentor’s moral code didn’t leave room for that kind of error.

“Don’t rip it,” Bruce warned quietly.  “It’s the only physical piece of evidence he’s shared with us.”

At least Bruce wasn’t denying that he may have made of a mistake. Heaven forbid the man apologize for his actions thought. No, instead, Dick was stuck staring at an awful excuse for a peace offering as he tried to breathe.

He needed a distraction while he processed the amount of information in front of him. The reasons Tim hadn’t been in the field now becoming clear as he stared at it. It wasn’t fear of being caught again. Tim hadn’t been acting afraid since he’d returned to the nest. Dick would have noticed that. There was some sort of agreement here, even if he couldn’t be sure the boy would stick to it.

That did leave one question though… One that was an excellent distraction, maybe.

“Damian called him a word I’m not familiar with,” he muttered quietly, eyes focused on ‘bat adoption papers’. On the handwriting in front of him.

He used to talk with Jason like this.

Bruce’s eyebrows practically creak as they raise, something Dick only knows because he can practically see it without looking up. In residual annoyance, Dick opts not to respond until he gets the quiet prompting of an “Oh?” because Bruce had annoyed him enough for one night, the man could at least verbalize his curiosity.

He would have to settle for that much. “Akhi? I’m assuming it’s Arabic. The only thing I could get out of Damian was that he knew Red Hood from the League before they both arrived here,” Dick explained.

Now he really had Bruce’s attention. The man was leaning forward when he glanced up, forcing his own attention away from the familiarity of the letter in hand. “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

Dick sighed, settling a look on his father figure. “Yes. I know how to recognize words.”

Even words he didn’t know.

But…

“What’d he call him anyways?”

So maybe his anger couldn’t outweigh his curiosity. Sue him, Dick had some priorities, even if many of his friends would call them skewed.

“My brother.”

“That’s not funny, B,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he tried to return his focus to the letter in hand. Of course he chose fucking now to grow a sense of humor instead of actually talking. “Could you be anymore emotionally constipated or-“

“Dick.”

Fuck. He knew that tone.

Dick bit back a sigh, forcing himself to look up again even as his heart decided to beat faster at this new twist. “Any chance you had another affair with Talia that could easily explain all of this away?” Not that it would explain why a child of Talia’s would come to Gotham and take on the name of Red Hood after the Joker.

Bruce was already shaking his head even as he asked, gaze focused slightly off to one side, leaning back in his batchair. Thinking. Bruce had never been quite good at looking people in the face for too long, even when it was Dick who he had known since his former mentee was a preteen. “No. Though we can’t rule out a connection to the family,” he said quietly.

“You should try to talk to him. He already agreed not to tell me, and the kid has your pigheadedness,” Dick pointed out, unable to avoid the jibe. After Bruce had purposefully kept information from him? Yeah, he was going to get at least one in tonight.

Even as he tried not to let his hands clench in the paper, trying to understand where he knew all of this from. Something was nagging in the back of his head, but he couldn’t place it.

And Bruce wasn’t helping as he turned back to the batcomputer. “It’s a family trait,” was all he said, clearly not interested in discussing it further as the elder vigilante’s fingers flew across the keys, trying to close this loop.

Dick stepped closer, leaning over the back of the chair for a moment, forcing it to lean back a little despite Bruce’s stiff posture. “Not the point. We need to know who the other sibling is in the world. Especially one who’s aware enough to know about everything,” he muttered, leaning over to set the paper carefully on the desk before he could tear it up.

“And you-“ he poked Bruce’s back in annoyance “-need to keep less secrets from your own damn family. I’m not in the mood for this shit.”

“See if you can get Tim to tell you who Red Hood is then. Since he also knows,” Bruce muttered.

“What?!”

So maybe that set off another round of shouting.

By the time Dick was through, he’d learned about the fact that Robin was currently grounded by Tim’s own choice. Not just a threat or an understanding with the crime lord but an actual, true respect for him. Something that Bruce couldn’t get out of the teen.

Dick shoved at the man’s chair before stalking towards the showers. “You can’t keep doing this, Bruce! It’s time you fucking remembered that!”

And if he hadn’t just gotten through with nearly having a heart attack at seeing Damian in Red Hood’s arms, he may have challenged the other to a fight. Made a good go at breaking his nose or something. Bruce would deserve it.

Right now, though, he just wanted to change out of his suit and head to bed.

Processing all of it, and yelling at Bruce, took a lot out of the eldest. With two brothers at home, both aware of who the newest thorn in their sides was.

One was related. The other respected him. But neither was talking.

There really was no chance he was going to get to have a conversation with Kori tonight. Not one that he’d enjoy, anyways. Usually he enjoyed talking to her after a long day, but he was never near as fun after yelling at Bruce… That didn’t stop her or Roy from being willing to talk to him, thankfully. Both had seen more than enough of their fights. This wouldn’t even rank anywhere near worth mentioning in the future.

Dick supposed that was a relief.

God, he was going to need something before he could actually convince himself to go to sleep.

Maybe he could convince Alfred to make him a hot chocolate. It didn’t matter that he was an adult who could probably make his own hot chocolate now. It wasn’t near as good out of the packet. Anyways, he’d always loved Alfred’s hot chocolate, and it had been one of the few things he’d bonded with J-

The truth hits him with enough force to make his foot slide slightly back, steadying himself. The world around him falling away in the process.

The casual way of speaking. The protectiveness over a little brother that the boy had always wanted. The refusal to see anyone under a certain age in the field. The protection of Crime Alley like a man who had grown up there. The nickname. The evidence of joking words in a completely serious manner about Batman. Knowing who Batman was. Even the taking over of Joker’s old alias.

Jason.

Chapter Text

Empty hot chocolate sat on the table next to a late night snack as Jason worked on cleaning his weapons.

The night had been frustratingly boring after running into his big and little brother. The only thing that would have made it more exciting was if Tim had fucking tagged along.

Then he would have had to go beat Bruce’s ass.

Which… would not have been an awful way to spend the night, but that was besides the point. Because he also would have had to deal with Tim going back on his promise to not go in the field as Robin and that would have been an even bigger problem.

So now he was stuck cleaning his guns, putting them back together, and trying not to focus too much on the fact that Talia had dodged his calls. Which was only serving to make the whole situation more annoying. He deserved a proper explanation of why Damian was here, but he couldn’t even get her on the phone now.

Sighing, he reached for his mug so he could go refill it and-

Someone was knocking at his door.

“Nick, I swear to god, if you are knocking on my fucking door for a stupid reason at fucking dawn, I’ll kick your ass,” he muttered under his breath as he grabbed the smallest and actually put together gun to head for the door.

Nick had a habit of blowing things out of proportion when one of the Bats did something, and word had probably gotten around that Nightwing had been in the area earlier in the night. Which meant he was going to be fielding questions for the next day or two about how that went and why the man had been there. Nothing he was particularly learning forward to.

Carefully hiding the gun from plain sight, he cracked the door just enough to get a peak at whoever was disrupting his moment of silence and-

Fuck.

The door slammed, only caught by a foot quickly shoved in.

“Nope. Not a chance! I’m coming in, door or no door.” The voice on the other side was just the wrong side of cheery as fucking Dick tried to muscle his way in through the tiny crack that his foot had created.

“The fuck you are. If you value that foot, you’ll remove it from my door,” Jason growled. He wasn’t prepared for this. Dick wasn’t supposed to be here. Especially not as Dick. That wasn’t even Nightwing outside of his door, that was his big brother. His big brother who wasn’t even at his funeral. Outside of his door.

The door shoved towards him forcefully, demanding entrance. “Like I said. Door or no door, I’m coming in,” that familiar voice warned. “I don’t need a door. You’ve got windows, remember?”

“I can shoot you just as easily through a window. If not more so.”

He should have pretended he wasn’t home or something. He didn’t want to deal with this. Why was Dick here? Why was he so insistent on seeing him? Why was he here as Dick? Jason would have understood as Nightwing to threaten him about Damian but this… This didn’t make any sense.

A sigh sounded from the other side of the door, foot still jammed in it to keep Jason from closing it properly. “I’m coming in even if you shoot. Because I’ve got two options here right now, and I need to know which one is the truth,” Dick said a bit more quietly, even as he could still feel the way his elder brother was pressing against the door to top it off.

What?

The momentary confused pause was all Dick needed to shove the door harshly and let himself in.

The gun was up between them before Jason could think, finding his glare for the other. “Why the fuck are you in my apartment?” he snapped, stepping back. The door fell shut behind him.

But those eyes.

Those eyes were on him, not answering as Dick took him in. Sizing him up? Looking for something? Searching his face, his hands, any part of him that they landed on for some sort of sign that Jason couldn’t give the man that hadn’t even deigned to show up at his funeral.

The man that he had left a voicemail for in calling for help. Hoping that there was a small chance… any chance that his big brother would be there when he needed him.

Not that he could really blame Dick for that part, he knew the other had been off world. But it stung a little when he thought about it sometimes. No, what really pissed him off was how Dick hadn’t even been at his funeral.

“Why are your eyes green?”

“That’s where you fucking start?”

The words were out of his mouth before Jason could help it, eyes narrowing. He tried not to look in the mirror too often, deeply uncomfortable with his own appearance half the time. He was too big. His hair threw him off. His eyes were never quite the same color any time he looked anymore.

“I think it’s a fair question. It’s probably the clearest thing that isn’t Jason Todd about you,” Dick retorted, looking far too calm for this situation.

Oh.

There were- so many other reasons he wasn’t Jason Todd. Just as many as there were to prove he was that same person. “Fuck off. I come back from the dead and that’s what you think is the weirdest part? That’s idiotic,” he retorted even the gun lowered slightly, trying not to let his brain continue down that path. “What gave it away?”

But Dick’s eyes had wandered away from him, taking in the apartment, pointedly not answering his question. His eyes lingered on the guns as he stepped further inside, making Jason’s hand tighten around his own weapon.

The other man didn’t move any closer to him though. Didn’t reach for the guns, assembled or disassembled alike.

He supposed Dick had never gotten over Bruce’s aversion to them.

Fucking golden boy.

But then he was reaching out, picking up his empty mug. Looking it over like it was something… important and not just-

“Hot chocolate,” Dick said quietly, looking down at the empty mug. His voice was soft. Sad. “I was thinking about how Alfred used to make Jason and I hot chocolate. How it was the only time I ever really spent with my little brother outside of that skiing trip we took. Bruce and I were at odds much more then, so I wasn’t really around. Which meant I never really got to know my brother before- well.”

His lips formed a thin line for a moment at the mention of Jason’s death. Without quite saying it. Without admitting that Jason was in front of him. “It clicked then. That that would make it all make sense. After Bruce finally showed me the letter, of course. Finally filled in the gaps because he can’t communicate for shit. I remembered us laughing about bat adoption papers because it was the most ridiculous thing we could ever think of. And how he wanted to go back to keep helping Park Row…”

Dick was trailing off again, turning the mug over in his hands. The empty mug that only had trace of chocolate at the bottom of it.

Leaving Jason standing there in shock, blinking.

He’d never heard Dick talk about him this way. About how he was his little brother. The gun lowered slightly more, though he didn’t put it away.

“So you came out here for- what? Come see me now since you couldn’t bother to make it my funeral?” The bitterness creeped into Jason’s voice, hand tightening around his gun before throwing his arms out. “I’m right here. Weird ass eyes and all. Feel free to take a good look on your way out.”

He was alive. Here. Real in the only sense of the word that he could understand anymore. Real in the sense that sometimes he wanted to crawl out of his skin, and sometimes he wanted to crawl home. Real in that, more than anything, rage liked to inch at the edge of his vision because he didn’t have his fucking family anymore. They were either too moral uptight to talk to or didn’t care that he was alive.

Those eyes were on him again, stepping towards him, mug set aside. Approaching like he was a wounded animal. Or maybe Dick was the wounded one from the way hurt flashed across his face.

“I would have been there if I’d known,” Dick murmured. “But I was in space. And Bruce didn’t even tell me. I found out when I finally got cell service back…” The voicemail. Dick had gotten his voicemail and that was how he’d known. “No one would have thought to tell me.”

It felt like someone had swung a crowbar at Jason. Like they had taken that moment to really slam the point home about how thoroughly his father Bruce had ruined everything when he died.

Bruce hadn’t even bothered to tell Dick.

“That doesn’t answer why you’re here,” he finally managed to grind out. Anger was easier. He could pretend that that was all he was was angry. That there was nothing lurking underneath in the depths painfully. “Bruce send you then to do a proof of life check? Or is the Bat waiting outside to jump me when I chase you out?”

Dick snorted softly. “I didn’t even tell him I thought it was you. Or that I was heading out. He’s still unaware,” he said, unphased by Jason’s tone.

Blue eyes met green.

“I had to see if it was really you or just someone walking around trying to take my brother’s legacy,” he continued.

Jason swallowed. Well, at least Bruce didn’t know. “So you gonna run back and tell him now that you’re convinced? Dead boy’s alive, let’s go have a welcome party so he can rub in my face that Joker is still running around alive?”

He needed to know what would come next. If his whole cover was about to be blown and he would have to start from scratch. He might just shoot Dick if that was the case.

“I killed him, you know. Killed the man that dared to murder my little-“

“The fuck you did. I know that bastard is in Arkham again waiting to see when he can get out next and cause havoc,” Jason shot back, starting to raise the gun again. If Dick was going to lie to him, he was at least going to have to make it believable.

Dick pressed his lips together, staring at him. “No. I did. It just didn’t fucking stick. Not for my lack of trying, but that’s not the point. I killed him, and I’d do it again if I thought I could get away with it.”

The tone Dick used was colder than Jason had ever heard out of him. Full of a quiet fury that he could never have imagined out of his elder brother. He’d heard Dick yell before, many times. The screaming matches between him and Bruce were hellish and often when he’d been younger. This… this was something new.

“Bruce brought him back. Right after I killed him. Gave him CPR and everything. Said he didn’t want me to live with that on my conscience. Like I haven’t killed someone before,” Dick continued, tone just as calm and collected, that fury rolling underneath every word. A promise. A statement that would have left so many questions any other time, but Jason could only focus on the fact that – for a brief moment at least – Joker had been dead. Dick had avenged him where Bruce couldn’t.

“So no. I’m not going to tell Bruce if you don’t want me to.”

“He what?”

The words came out choked, and only immense training kept him from dropping the gun in his hand. Risking it going off at random wasn’t something he could do.

“Oh, Jay…” Dick murmured stepping close again, walling off that anger that he clearly held for the instance. Instead, he was prepared to comfort Jason, carefully removing the gun from his hand before wrapping his arms around the now larger brother.

Jason let himself be pulled into the hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he could hear Dick murmuring. “Even if you were going to shoot me a few minutes ago.”

That drew a snort out of him. “Still might.”

“Promises, promises. Save it for tomorrow.”

Jason shoved a finger at the other’s side uselessly. “Fuck you,” he grumbled. That didn’t stop him from hesitating though before he pushed onwards. “You believe it’s me though?”

“No other self-respecting crime lord would be clean his guns over a mug of hot cocoa, Jay. Especially not with cinnamon,” Dick pointed out, steering them towards the couch and the mess of weapons he’d been in the middle of cleaning.

“Whatever.”

Dick chuckled softly and just pulled him in tightly. One of those stupid octopus hugs that had him squirming a bit to get away, though nothing like when they’d first met and he hadn’t been sure what to expect or why someone would want to hug him, especially like that. It only made Dick laugh more. “Definitely you, Jaywing. Now quit that and let me hug my little brother.”

Jason huffed halfheartedly, letting himself relax as he tried not to let the green tinge his vision. For once, Dick’s hugs were helpful in that it seemed to lessen the threat of anger towards Bruce. At least for now.

“Fine, but I’m bigger than you,” Jason grumbled.

“Details.”