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Here’s the thing: Jason Todd will always be a street kid no matter where he lives.
Yes, he’s been adopted by Bruce Wayne. Yes, he now lives in Bristol and goes to Gotham Academy and no longer goes hungry in the night. Yes, he never has to worry about surviving through the winters or struggling to take care of himself.
None of that changes the fact that he’s a street kid from Crime Alley. Everyone knows it. All the other folks that make up Gotham’s elite will never forget it; it’s clear in how they interact with him, how they speak of him, how they look at him.
Jason Todd is a Crime Alley Street Kid.
He’s also Robin.
It’s the best gift he’s ever been given; to have the strength to take care of himself and protect everyone else, to have a place in the family, to do something good.
Bruce is always there. Bruce teaches him how to fight, how to save, how to talk to victims, how to look deeper into the details of things. He’s not the best, not even close, but he’s got more training and experience than most. Jason can recognize a lot of tells now, little warning signs in people for violence or fear or something.
Tim Drake has a lot of very concerning tells.
It’s all Jason can think about. He hadn’t thought much of it when his English teacher asked him to deliver their next book to his next door neighbor (in a neighborhood where next door means a mile away). Alfred had dropped him off at the gate and waited as Jason walked down the long driveway.
Drake Manor was immaculate and large, though not as much as Wayne Manor. It was more modern in style, lines and hard edges and glass. Jason never liked these types of manors. They always belonged to the snobbier rich people who would side-eye him then leave just so they didn’t have to share any air with him. He had the brief thought that he didn’t want to deal with the kid if he’s anything like those people, when the door opened and Tim Drake peeked out at him.
Sick for a week, is what his teacher told him. Tim certainly looked sick, all pale and small and tired. He was nervous, never fulling coming out from behind the door, struggling to meet Jason’s eyes.
And Jason saw—
Tense posture. Clenched jaw. Quiet voice. Head bowed.
He saw Tim Drake, a lonely kid who was way too young to be in high school. A kid who was nervous around him and hiding away as much as he could without being rude.
Jason left with the feeling that something was wrong. That feeling hasn’t stopped at all, and Jason can’t sleep. He stares up at the ceiling, going over the interaction in his mind again, trying to figure out what he’s missing.
The longer he thinks, the more worried he gets. He doesn’t know Tim, not really, but he remembers seeing him at galas the few times he went with Bruce.
Tim was hiding away in another room after following his parents around for some time. When Jason came in to get away from everyone, Tim had smiled at him and left to hide somewhere else.
It’s fine, I can go, he had said, I’m small enough that no one will notice me.
Jason was too relieved to be left alone to think much on it, but the words ring around his mind.
There are pieces here that he can’t put together in a cohesive picture: Drake Manor large and silent. Tim small and nervous. No signs of anyone around.
Fuck it, Jason decides and throws off the covers, getting out of bed. He won’t be able to sleep until he figures this out. Bruce is out on a solo patrol, with this being one of Jason’s mandatory night’s off, and Alfred is running comms in the Batcave.
Jason makes his way to the study on silent feet, opening the grandfather clock to go down into the cave.
Alfred is already facing him when he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “Is everything alright, Master Jason?”
“Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep. I need to look into something real quick, then I’ll go back to bed.”
Alfred looks him over for a moment, then nods and says, “Very well. Do be quick, it’s getting late.”
“Thanks, Alfie,” Jason says, already darting towards the Batcomputer. With Alfred’s permission, he takes over a single monitor, leaving all of Bruce’s cases and notes open on the others, and starts researching the Drake family.
He skims through articles about Drake Industries, archeological findings and published papers, and public appearances. There’s very little about Tim; the only thing he learns from those is that Tim exists, he’s their only child, and sometimes he accompanies his parents to galas. Other than that, there’s nothing.
Frowning, he goes deeper, looking into payments and emails, hacking into their information in search of something that will make him understand the situation better.
They pay for a lot of plane tickets and hotels. Constantly traveling all around the world, days of silence when they’re deep in a dig and can’t get connection, then a flurry of messages as they go to company meetings. They’re gone for months and not a single ticket has Tim’s name on it.
For that matter, there’s not a single message to Tim, either.
The picture starts to form in his mind and it’s an unpleasant one.
Tim, alone in his house. Sick without anyone to take care of him. Small and quiet and forgotten by everyone including his parents. Tim, lonely and not used to spending time with others, shying away from the rest of the world.
Tim, next door in a quiet house far too big for him.
There are records of groceries being delivered and a housekeeper showing up a few times a week. None of it is enough to make up for actual parents who give a shit about him.
“Master Jason?”
Jason relaxes at the sound of Alfred’s voice. He hadn’t noticed how tense he had gotten, how fiercely he scowled at the screen as if he could scare it into showing him something better.
“Master Jason, are you quite alright?”
“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, I’m good. But he isn’t.” Jason moves to the side as he speaks, allowing Alfred to read the screen over his shoulder.
It takes a minute, then Alfred says, “It would seem that Timothy is in need of some care.”
“Think Bruce is gonna adopt him?”
“He still has parents.”
“Well, Bruce doesn’t have a problem with kidnapping sad looking kids. Remember how he got me?”
Alfred smiles and pats his shoulder. “How could I forget such a hectic night? I don’t think we’ll have to worry about a repeat. Master Bruce cannot simply take Timothy from the Drakes with no warning, but there is nothing wrong with Timothy being invited over by a friend.”
He hadn’t even been thinking about what to do with what he’s learned, but now that Alfred’s put the idea in his head, Jason knows he’s not going to let this go. He’s going to befriend Tim no matter what it takes, then drag him over to make sure someone takes care of him.
Most cases call for Robin.
This time, it’s all on Jason.
“You are not going to seek him out?”
Tim shakes his head, too focused on the screen to look away from it. There are some interesting transactions happening, and he has to make a note of it and follow the trail to see what’s being bought and who intends to use it. It’s always good to be a step ahead of gangs when it comes to things like this.
“Timothy.”
“Huh?” Tim blinks and forces himself to look at Damian. “Oh, no. Everything I need to do, I can do from the shadows. It’s best if I don’t get directly involved with them in this one.”
“And if Jason seeks you out instead?”
“He won’t,” Tim says, as if it’s obvious. “He’ll forget me by the time the weekend’s over. Don’t worry about it.”
Damian shakes his head, but stays silent. He knows Tim’s obliviousness to how people view him and his own relationships with others. He also knows Jason’s inability to let things lie and need to take care of others.
He’ll let this play out naturally. Best not to give Tim any chance to plan for a way out of.
Tim, distracted by the happenings of the digital criminal underground, pays no mind to Damian’s silence. He has no time to think about Jason and deal with the heartache and grief that follows. He’s got work to do.
He’s got so much to do in order to keep them all safe.
Nothing about Tim adds up. Some of it does, sure, but everything he learns about Tim just makes things more confusing.
He’s smart. Incredibly smart, skipping grades like it’s nothing, consistent straight A’s and rarely a grade below 85. He’s also incredibly quiet, never speaking in class, disappearing during lunch, slipping between students like air. He’s nervous and keeps to himself, but sometimes Jason catches a glimpse of something else, something more dangerous in his eyes. It’s never for more than a second and he still wonders if he just imagined it.
Tim is a lot of things, but dangerous isn’t one of them. He’s so polite and soft-spoken, except for the few times he speaks before thinking, taking on a more casual tone with Jason before he catches himself and corrects his speech.
It’s obvious that he’s hiding something, but Jason doubts it’s anything harmful. At most, he’s hiding the extent of his parents’ neglect, living on his own and keeping his head down so no one comes around asking questions.
But the little things he’s seen or overheard point to something more. It doesn’t seem to be anything bad, really, not with how soft and fond Tim’s expression becomes when he answers a text, angling the screen away from Jason. The worry that sometimes is present in his posture resembles how Dick acts when Jason takes a few rough hits during patrol.
None if it makes sense, but Tim carries on as if everything’s fine when Jason can tell that it’s not.
He’s got a plan. Not a great one, but it’s better than nothing.
So far, step one: befriend Tim, is going poorly.
Jason is trying! He really is, but Tim’s a slippery little thing and he keeps disappearing. Between classes, after lunch, as soon as the last bell of the school day rings; the moment Jason takes his eyes off of him, Tim is gone.
Not today, though.
He’s got a plan of action. He’s got Alfred to help him out.
The moment the final bell rings, Jason’s out the door like a shot, swinging his backpack over his shoulder carelessly, only half closed, and rushes as fast as he can without running to Tim’s last class.
Students are piling into the hallway, chatter filling up the space into a nearly deafening thrum. Tim’s Human Geography teacher is the one that never lets anyone pack up until the bell rings, making them one of the last classes to be dismissed, which gives Jason just enough time to catch Tim slipping out of the door and following the flow of students into the hall.
“Tim!” he calls out, and Tim tenses, shoulders rising some before he forcefully relaxes them. On anyone else, they wouldn’t have noticed Tim’s quick reactions, but Jason isn’t anyone else.
As much as he wants to throw an arm around Tim’s shoulder, he holds himself back. Tim is clearly touch starved but he’s also extremely skittish. He keeps his distance from other people, maintains his own personal space carefully, and rarely lets Jason get close enough to be touched. The most he accepts is the occasional bumping of shoulders, and even then it’s dependent one how much space is around them and how long Jason’s been with him.
He did manage to hug Tim. Just once, but it was enough to break his heart to see Tim holding himself so still, as if he was afraid to scare Jason away. It made him want to hunt down his absent parents and yell at them until he couldn’t make a sound.
Every moment spent with Tim makes him want to bundle him up and take care of him.
Someone has to, and no one else seems to be doing a decent job at it!
Tim moves to the side, pressing himself against the wall of the hallway to get out of people’s way. He watches Jason with a blank expression. It’s nearly impossible to read him; the most Jason can do is observe his body language and come to his own conclusions.
“Hey,” he says again, scrambling to come up with something to talk about to keep Tim from leaving. “You about caught up with all your classes?”
“Yeah. I turned everything in yesterday.”
Jason whistles, impressed. “That’s a lot of work to finish so quickly.”
“It wasn’t that hard,” Tim shrugs, “Just time consuming. It’s not like I had any essays to write or tests to make up.”
“You really lucked out on that. Last time I was out sick, I missed a math test and Tulley made me miss lunch to take it.”
He wasn’t actually sick, that time. He had been recovering from Two Face’s attack the night before and got himself banged up enough to be a walking mosaic of bruises. Alfred fussed over him and Bruce insisted he take the day off to recover instead of forcing himself to go to school to keep up their cover of normalcy. Studying equations and practice problems while in bed sucked and he never wants to see another number again when he’s injured.
“I need to go wait for my bus,” Tim says, starting to edge away.
He’s always so quick to disappear, taking any chance he has to get away from people and be by himself. The fact that he allows Jason to take up his lunch period means a lot; it never seems like it until he thinks it over and realizes that this is the most time Tim spends with anyone.
Baby steps. These are just baby steps. It’s slow going, but it’s proof that he has a chance at achieving this, that Tim can grow to trust him and start having someone to rely on so he doesn’t have to take care of himself in an empty manor.
“Why don’t you grab a ride with me?” he says, following after Tim. “Alfie won’t mind dropping you off. You’ll get home sooner, anyways.”
“I don’t know… I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“Tim, you are not trouble. We’re both going back to Bristol anyways. Come on, I promise no one’s gonna mind that you start catching rides with me.”
He walks them towards the exit, sticking close by to make sure Tim doesn’t decide to make a break for it and go towards the bus stop down the street. Already, cars are packed in front of the school just outside the gates, slowing down traffic on the street. The first ten minutes after school ends are the busiest, full of cars honking and students filling the sidewalk.
Alfred always arrives exactly fifteen minutes after school ends. It was Jason’s own request after he first saw how hectic the streets are immediately after he’s released from his final class of the day. He doesn’t mind waiting if it means making things a little easier for Alfred.
It also means that Jason has fifteen minutes to just talk to Tim and learn more about him, really try to be his friend and start the slow work of convincing Tim to visit Wayne Manor.
“Over here,” he says, grabbing onto the sleeve of Tim’s uniform to steer him towards one of the benches in the courtyard. “Alfie’s not gonna be here for a while, so let’s wait here.”
“I can just take the bus. Really, Jason, it’s fine.”
“A bus ride from here to Bristol is like, over an hour. Totally not worth it when you can have Alfie drive you back.”
He sits down and looks at Tim expectantly until he shifts on his feet, then shrugs off his backpack and sets it on the ground. He keeps some space between them when he sits down, perched on the edge of the bench, ready to get up and run away.
Jason carefully keeps himself relaxed, leaning back against the bench. He doesn’t look at Tim, focusing his gaze across the courtyard to the many students getting into cars or standing in small clusters to talk before they have to leave. If Tim chooses to bolt, Jason will have no choice but to let him go. Sure, he can easily chase him down and stop him, but that would defeat the purpose of getting Tim to trust him.
He’s got to pick his battles. As Robin, he would pick all of them, but as Jason, he needs to let some go.
This is much harder than he expected it to be. Maybe if he drops by Tim’s house as Robin, just to check in, maybe make up some excuse of overhearing some plans to rob Bristol houses, he can get a better look into Tim’s home life and how to help him. Tim probably likes heroes. Who doesn’t?
Robin is Batman’s partner, someone who can be trusted to keep people safe. Jason is just… Jason. Former street kid. It’s a lot harder to trust him.
“So,” he says, “You read much of Dante’s Inferno yet?”
“Some. Mostly I just read the summaries of each canto, then skim it for quotes.”
Jason gives up on keeping his distance. He turns to stare at Tim incredulously, offended by the fact that the little genius next to him isn’t reading properly.
That’s painful to learn. That hurts him, right in his heart.
“You’re not reading it? Why not? It’s great!”
Tim scrunches up his face; he looks like one of Selina’s cats getting its paws wet. “I just don’t like reading that much. It’s too time consuming and it’s not very interesting.”
“I can’t believe you think Dante Aligheri’s Divine Comedy is boring. This is unacceptable.”
Surprisingly, this, of all things, makes Tim smile. It’s just a small quirk of his lips, the bright shine of amusement in his eyes, his posture relaxing as he leans back a little to focus fully on the conversation. He’s not going to leave now, he’s not even thinking about it, but it comes at the cost of hearing slander about a classic Italian masterpiece.
Jason would like to pick another battle, actually. He’s already lost this one.
“That’s because it is, ” Tim insists. He looks lighter and even younger without the constant stress of loneliness weighing him down.
“Is not! It’s an incredible epic with a fun background and I can’t believe you think it’s boring.”
“It’s a long story about walking through hell. What more is there? It’s long and difficult to understand and boring. Ask anyone and they’ll agree with me.”
“I’m not agreeing with you! I am very clearly disagreeing with you!” Jason wants to put his head in his hands and mourn Tim’s lost potential. He’s so smart, and if he actually read the book and analyzed it, he would have so many interesting things to say. But no, he reads online summaries. This is the worst thing Jason’s ever heard.
Tim rolls his eyes and swoons back dramatically. “Oh, no,” he drawls, “Jason is disagreeing with me! Whatever shall I do?”
“I can’t believe I thought you were polite. You’re breaking my heart Tim, you’re breaking it.”
Tim snickers at him, and it’s one of the best things Jason’s ever heard.
Beneath all the fear and politeness and secrets, Tim is fun. Tim is playful and rude and a snarky little shit, and while he’s seen glimpses of it before, nothing could have prepared him for the real thing.
He wishes, not for the first time, that he’d met Tim sooner. That they could have spent years visiting each other over that mile that separates them, that he could have been looking after Tim so much sooner and just been there for him.
If he wasn’t tasked with delivering the book to him, Jason would have never met Tim. Not really.
The occasional passing glance in the hallway or polite greeting at a gala didn’t count.
It’s not the same as knowing him, and Tim is someone worth knowing.
No one else seems to see that, though, and it makes something dark and bitter twist in his chest. How could anyone just disregard such a great kid? How could his own parents leave him alone for months at a time?
How could anyone see Tim and not want to stay?
“I’ve decided,” Jason says, sitting up from his slouch against the bench, “We’re going to read the book together. I will literally go over each line and tell you why it’s so great and why Dante is so fun. I will make you see the light.”
“You’re going to send me to sleep if you try.”
“I’m willing to take on that challenge. In fact, let’s start now.”
“I’m not getting my book out,” Tim says.
“You don’t have to. I’m going to tell you all about the history of the book and Dante Aligheiri and you’re going to enjoy it.”
Tim doesn’t say anything against it, even goes as far as leaning back, settling in for the lecture, so Jason launches into it. He doesn’t struggle at all to give Tim an impromptu lesson on Dante’s Inferno, mostly because he’s had it in mind since they first started the book and he hasn’t been able to share it until now.
Half the fun in reading old books is learning about what went into writing them. Learning about the authors and their lives, how their experiences influence their work, how petty some of these authors are, it’s all so interesting. It lets him find little details in the book that he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. It’s a look into the time period, the historical events, the day to day life of another country in another era. It’s history, but better.
He doesn’t notice how much time is passing until his phone vibrates in his pocket. Startled, Jason cuts off in the middle of discussing Dante’s banishment from Florence and how Florence is now struggling to get his remains to turn into another tourist attraction. Through it all, Tim has been listening attentively, occasionally interjecting with his own comments when hearing about all the people Dante included in his epic and why he put them in hell.
He pulls out his phone and sees that Alfred has sent him a message. I have arrived at the gate, Master Jason, it reads.
“Oh shoot, I didn’t even notice how long I’ve been talking.” He stands up, pocketing his phone, and picks up Tim’s backpack. “Come on, Alfie’s here.”
With his backpack held hostage, Tim has no choice but to trail after Jason. The easy smile and amusement have disappeared, and his face is the same blank mask it usually is.
Alfred waits near the front of the drop-off lane. Most of the other cars are gone, but a few students still mill around, waiting for their own rides.
“Hi Alfie!” Jason greets as he opens the car door. He gestures for Tim to go in first, and he does so with only minimal hesitation. “Tim’s catching a ride with us back to Bristol. That okay?”
“Of course it is,” Alfred replies, just as Jason expected him to. Normally, he wouldn’t even ask, but Tim looks like he needs the extra assurance.
He tosses their backpacks in, then gets into the car, closing the door behind him carefully so it doesn’t slam. Tim’s already got his seatbelt on and Alfred waits until Jason does the same before looking into the side mirror and going back out onto the road.
“Sorry for all the trouble,” Tim says, voice small. Everything about him is small, actually. He’s sitting primply against the seat, back straight and hands folded in his lap, but something about his presence is tiny, as if he’s trying to make himself invisible.
“Not at all,” Alfred says, “I am more than happy to drive you back. Just as I am happy to drive you to school with Master Jason.”
“You don’t need to, really, I know it’s just extra work—”
“Work that I am happy to do,” Alfred interrupts gently, “In fact, I would rather insist that you allow me to chauffeur you and Master Jason to and from school. We both worry about you taking the bus.”
“Oh.” Tim looks down, a crack in his perfectly polite facade. “It’s really not a big deal. Plenty of kids take the bus.”
“Yeah, but they’re with their parents, or someone else who takes care of them,” Jason says. “Not alone. Especially not when they’re from Bristol. Anyone could snatch you away, you know?”
With only a few inches between them in the car, Jason can see how Tim clenches his jaw, pressing his hands flat against his thighs as his eyes go cold. “I’m doing just fine on my own,” he says.
Jason makes a note to never question Tim’s self-sufficiency again. It’s clearly a sore topic, and it’s to be expected. He’s been taking care of himself for years because his parents don’t know how to care for other people. If he doesn’t turn it into something to be proud of, it’s just going to break him instead.
He had been the same way on the streets. Even before then, really, when Catherine was still alive and losing herself to drugs. He had taken care of everything himself, from cooking with their limited supplies, to keeping the apartment clean and all their papers organized. And on the streets, he was able to get food for himself, found a little job that would earn him money, and relied on no one but himself until Batman chucked him into his car and dropped him off at an orphanage that was a front for training child soldiers to supply to gangs.
It had taken a while before he could learn how to ask for help. It had taken even longer to trust that he would get that help without having to repay the favor in some way.
“You are,” Jason says, walking the line of speaking carefully but casually. “But you don’t have to do anything on your own, you know? ‘Sides, I like helping people and I like spending time with you, so it works out.”
His clumsy attempt at soothing Tim works, somehow. He settles down and quietly says, “Thank you, then. For the ride.”
“Of course, young sir.” Alfred sounds the same as ever, unflappable and calm, but when he meets Jason’s eyes through the rearview mirror, Jason can see that he’s this close to calling Tim “Young Master Timothy” and bringing him into the Manor for dinner.
Tim does have that effect on people. Not all of them—fuck his parents, seriously—but definitely decent people.
Jason needs to keep Bruce away from Tim until he can get the kid to trust him. Bruce is going to take one look at his sad blue eyes and whisk him into the family with some dubiously legal adoption forms.
Not on his watch. Jason found Tim first, which means Jason gets to be the one to bring Tim in.
Bruce can take the L on this one. He needs to do that more often; losing little things like this is good for him. Keeps the ego in check.
The silence must be too much for Tim. He turns to Jason and says, “You were telling me about Florence.”
And Jason perks up. “I was! So, he had some beef with that Pope—I can’t remember his name right now—and decided, ‘Oh, I am absolutely putting this guy in hell’. And then he did. So while he was wandering after his banishment, he wrote the epic, and now it’s so big that Florence keeps holding votes to rescind the banishment order, literal centuries after his death, to have his remains sent to Florence—”
The rest of the car ride passes by in a mixture of Jason’s rambles about history and literature, with the occasional interjection from Tim and Alfred. It’s nice, and Tim is much more relaxed with Jason now than he was at the beginning of the week.
Still, he turns down the invitation to dinner and is quick to disappear into the cold rooms of Drake Manor.
Baby steps, Jason reminds himself.
If Tim needs him to be patient, he can be patient.
He can always try again tomorrow.
“What do you want me to do?” Tim asks, legs kicked up over the armrest of the couch. Damian sits beside him, legs pulled up, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Jason is really insistent, but I can’t just leave you here alone.”
“Perhaps you can invite him over here instead.”
“...Are you sure? I thought you weren’t ready to meet them yet.”
“I’m not ready to meet Father,” Damian corrects, “But I would like to be with Jason and Richard again.”
The problem here isn’t that Damian isn’t ready to be with the Waynes yet, it’s that Tim is too scared to be close to them again. He’s spent three years keeping his distance, running from them, and now he doesn’t know how to let them in again.
Damian needs him to do this. Damian needs his older brothers, because Tim isn’t enough.
He tries to convince himself that he doesn’t need his older brothers either.
He’s good at lying, but never to himself. Not when it matters.
“I can try,” Tim says, “He’ll have questions once he sees you.”
“He already has questions about you. We don’t need to answer them.”
“I guess that works.” Tim sighs, trying to wrestle down his many conflicting emotions. He’s never been good at having a family, despite how hard he tries. At least before it was only him that had to deal with the consequences. Now, Damian will suffer them if he messes it up.
He has to do this. He has to let Jason in to return Damian’s family to him. He has to keep his brothers alive. He has to do so much.
“Are you not ready for this?” Damian asks. He’s more patient with an entire lifetime tempering his thoughts and actions. And the loneliness has only made him latch onto Tim just as much as Tim’s latched onto him.
They have to take care of each other because no one else will. No one else can.
“I’m not,” Tim admits. It feels like defeat, saying those words. But Damian only hums in acknowledgement, never saying a word against him.
“Okay,” he says. “Then wait until you’re ready.”
As if it’s that simple.
“I don’t know if I ever will be.”
“You will.”
Damian knows Tim. Knows what he’s like and what he’s capable of. Has seen some of his worst moments and been there for some of the best. If he says it so easily, like it’s fact, like it’s inevitable, Tim will trust him.
There’s nothing else he can do but trust him.
Dick hasn’t yelled at Bruce yet.
So far, things are going well, because Dick isn’t as angry as he usually is when he’s in the Manor, which means he’s more willing to spend time with Jason. The fact that he hasn’t seen Bruce at all doesn’t escape him, but he’s not going to point it out.
The longer they go without fighting, the better.
During times like these, Jason can almost convince himself that Dick is his older brother. That Dick actually wants him around instead of teaching him a few things here and there to not die in a gang fight before leaving for Bludhaven again.
“So,” Dick says, sprawled across the armchair in a position that can’t be comfortable for normal people, “Anything interesting at school? Get into any fights? Have any crushes?” He waggles his eyebrows at the last question, just to be extra annoying.
Jason rolls his eyes, giving up on reading another canto of Dante’s Inferno with Dick trying to make conversation. He won’t be able to focus until Dick leaves, which isn’t going to be anytime soon since Dick is actually trying to be friendly with Jason now.
“No, Dickhead, school is the same as always. Full of people who don’t like me cause I’m from the streets.”
“You’re a Wayne. Doesn’t that count for something?” Dick frowns, as he always does when Jason mentions the way people treat him because of his background.
It surprised him, the first time it was brought up when Dick, during his first attempt to be civil with Jason, asked about a recent gala Bruce had taken Jason to. Despite how clear it was that Dick didn’t like him, he was quick to assure Jason that there’s nothing wrong with him and Gotham’s upper class all have terrible opinions anyways.
But he also went through the same thing. He was an orphaned circus kid who suddenly had to put roots down in Gotham and no one cared about the fact that Bruce Wayne took him in as much as they cared about his background.
It was easier to talk to Dick after that. At least, when Dick felt up for talking to him instead of ignoring both him and Bruce with stone cold silence and barely restrained anger.
“Well, who cares about them,” Dick says, “It’s not like we have to worry about networking or whatever, since those kids were never taught how to socialize like normal people.”
Which is true. Some of the conversations he overhears are… weird, in the rich people way. Not the evil-plan-being-made way. Jason avoids them, and they avoid Jason, and it works out for everyone involved. It’s a little lonely, sure, but it also means Jason has more than enough time to focus on schoolwork and reading in the library.
Tim is different. Tim could act like a normal kid when he felt comfortable. The problem is that Tim is never comfortable no matter how hard Jason tries. He’s down to earth and fun and nothing like the other high society kids Jason’s met, and it’s likely entirely because of how neglected he is.
He would take an annoying, snobby Tim over a quiet, neglected Tim any day, if only because it would mean he had parents who gave a shit.
“Jay? Think I lost you for a second there. Something on your mind?”
Drawn out of his thoughts, Jason looks up from where he was staring holes into his book, then considers Dick. There’s a lot on his mind, but he’s not sure if he should share it. On the one hand, getting it off his chest would be great, and getting someone else’s thoughts on the situation might help him understand what to do instead of just stumbling along blindly, hoping he doesn’t mess things up. On the other hand, who knows how long Dick’s good mood will last? He might listen today, then be back to angrily ignoring him for the rest of the month.
But with Dick, the chances of this getting out to Bruce are lower. He trusts Alfred, of course he does, but Bruce is Alfred’s responsibility beyond everything else, including him. He won’t ask Alfred to hide something like this from Bruce just because Jason wants to be selfish and keep Tim to himself a little longer.
He doesn’t want an interrogation about Tim. And he definitely doesn’t want Bruce to question all his thoughts and actions regarding Tim because that man doesn’t have any friends and therefore no leg to stand on.
“There’s this kid at school,” Jason says, making up his mind, “And I’m worried about him.”
“Oh?” Dick sits up, dropping his smile. His attention is solely on Jason, ready to take his words seriously despite not knowing what this is about.
“He’s got no one to look after him. Shit parents, for one. And he’s younger than anyone else in school since he skipped a few grades. I’m trying to be his friend since he’s a lot of fun when he isn’t stressed out, but I don’t know what else to do.”
“Tell me about him.”
“His name’s Tim. Lives next door, actually.” Jason nods at the window in the direction of Drake Manor and Dick’s eyes go wide. “I’ve been trying to invite him over to make sure he’s getting enough to eat and maybe convince him to stay a few nights a week, but he keeps slipping away.”
“And he doesn’t have any caretakers?”
“None that I know of. I already checked. It’s just him in that manor, by himself.”
Dick keeps his eyes on the window. It only shows the slightly cloudy sky, but he stares as if he might see Drake Manor if he’s patient enough. “That’s not good,” he says, almost like an afterthought.
“There’s a lot going on with him. I keep seeing concerning tells, but I can’t figure out why he has them when there’s so much about him that I don’t know or that doesn’t many any sense!”
“Have you told anyone?”
“Just you and Alfred. Tim doesn’t trust people, really. Never had anyone that stuck around long enough for him to trust.”
“You’re trying to get him to trust you,” Dick says, asking for a confirmation without actually asking anything.
Jason shrugs, because while that is why he started this whole thing, it’s changed since he’s gotten to know Tim. “Yeah, but not just so I can take care of him. He’s a good friend. I like spending time with him. Wish I could do more, though.”
“The fact that you’re trying is already a good start. We can think through what else you can do once you know more about his situation.”
“I mean, I already know a lot from researching and breaking into his house—”
“You what.”
“—and he’s been lonely for so long that I don’t know if he knows how to live any other way. Oh, don’t look at me like that. We do shit like that all the time, why are you so shocked about it now?”
Dick gapes at him, then waves a hand in the air, gesturing vaguely. “Because!” he splutters, “That’s for crime investigations! And we’re masked when we do that so we can’t get arrested! You broke into his house on your own?”
“Yeah, I got impatient. It’s not like I would have been caught. Tim wasn’t around and no one else goes in that house long enough to notice anything off.”
He carefully doesn’t mention how he went in specifically looking for any sign that Tim is Foxface. He hadn’t found anything that could solidly tie Tim’s identity to the kid running around in a fox mask, but things are lining up a little too neatly when he thinks about it. It’s all speculation, no hard evidence, and Jason has no idea what to do if Tim is Foxface . That’s a can of worms he’s not eager to open, especially when Dick is fishing for information.
“I—you know what? Sure, fine, that makes enough sense, I guess. So you’re just going to keep inviting him over until he agrees to come?”
“Might as well,” Jason says, “What else can I do?”
“Well, if he lives next door, why don’t you go over? Just to hang out with him. He might feel more comfortable reaching out if he’s somewhere he’s familiar with.”
Jason sits up with a grin. “You’re a genius Dick,” and Dick winks at him and does a little half-bow from the armchair, “Think I can go over right now?”
“I think it’s about time for lunch. How about after? And if it goes well, you can call me over to deliver some of Alfred’s snacks for you guys.”
“This is just a ploy to get to see Tim,” Jason says, squinting at Dick. He’s not sure why Dick would want to meet Tim when Jason’s got it under control, but he’s also a busybody who likes meeting new people when they aren’t insufferable rich people at galas and charity events.
“Absolutely,” Dick answers, shamelessly. “I want to meet my little brother’s friend!”
Being called his little brother sends an unexpected warmth through his chest, and Jason can’t help but smile. “Only for snacks,” he says, “I’m not gonna let you scare Tim off.”
“I would never,” Dick says solemnly, hand on his heart. “Just to deliver snacks. And maybe eat a few.”
A knock comes from the door of the library. Jason twists around and looks back to see Bruce standing in the doorway.
“Lunch is ready,” he says, “Let’s not keep Alfred waiting.”
Jason holds his breath, hoping this doesn’t turn into another screaming match between the two of them. Dick, expression pointedly neutral, doesn’t say anything when Jason glances back at him, so Jason says, “We’ll be right there.”
Bruce nods at him, then leaves, and Jason tries not to relax too obviously.
“Let’s go,” he says to Dick, “I’m hungry.”
Dick, instead of standing up from the armchair like a normal person, drapes himself over the armrest again. Then he keeps going, sliding down head first until his hands meet the floor. He kicks his legs up over his head and walks backwards on his hands until he has enough space to safely come up, dropping his legs down and righting himself with a little flourish.
He smiles expectantly at Jason, who bites back a smile and shakes his head. “You’re so extra,” he says.
“Extra-ordinary!” Dick crows, looking far too pleased with himself.
Jason leaves all his class materials on the table. He’s planning on finishing all his homework in the library, so why bother putting everything away when he’s going to be coming back? Alfred might disagree with him, but this is about being efficient, so Jason’s sticking with his decision.
They head towards the kitchen together, Dick humming something under his breath as Jason considers visiting Tim. It’s the best he can do, considering the circumstances, but can also go badly if Tim thinks Jason is prying or forcing himself into his home. It probably won’t come to that, but the possibility is there and it haunts him.
Alfred has already set the table when they get to the kitchen, and Bruce is setting out glasses for everyone. He pulls out a seat for Alfred, then goes to his own. Jason waits for Dick to sit down, unsure if he wants to act as a buffer, sitting between Dick and Bruce, or letting Dick sit next to Bruce so he doesn’t have to sit across from him.
Dick needs a buffer, apparently, and sits down across from Bruce, eyes fixed on the food so he doesn’t need to look at anyone. Jason quietly slips into his own seat, catching Alfred’s eye and relaxing at his warm smile.
They serve themselves quietly, grabbing sandwiches and salads to put on their plates.
“You’re here early today,” Bruce says, breaking the silence.
Dick smiles at him, sharp and dangerous. “I got today off so I could spend some time with Jason. Feels like it’s been ages since I last saw him.”
Neither of them mention the fight they had about Dick’s job in Bludhaven last time he was at the Manor.
“I hope you were not causing too much trouble in the library, Master Richard,” Alfred says, breaking the tension with ease.
“Nah, not at all,” Dick says, leaning back in his chair. “I was just talking to Jason about how he was doing in school.”
Bruce turns to look at Jason, a silent request to hear about this also. But their conversation was focused on Tim, and that’s the last thing he wants to mention to Bruce at the moment.
“I was just telling him about Dante’s Inferno. He never read it, and it’s assigned for English, so.” Jason shrugs, glancing at Dick in the hopes that he’ll play along.
“He insists that it’s a good book but it’s long and boring. At least Jason’s a better student than me.”
That’s another one of the things that comes up when they shout at each other. Jason tries to hide away somewhere he can’t hear them, but sometimes he’s not fast enough and ends up hearing more than he wants to. One of those times involved Dick yelling about how Jason was clearly the kid Bruce always wanted, the kid who loved school and did as he’s told, while Dick was just the disappointing charity case Bruce took in until he was a legal adult.
Dick had found him afterwards, before he left for Bludhaven, and quietly asked how much he had heard. Then he apologized for what he said, telling Jason that his problem is with Bruce and not him. He promised to try to keep Jason out of their arguments from then on, and he has.
It’s hard to be mad at Dick when he’s so repentant, but it’s also hard to believe that Dick likes him when he says things like that or acts like Jason’s invisible when he’s in a bad mood.
But he’s playing along. He knows that Jason’s lying to Bruce, though he doesn’t know why, and he’s playing along.
“Is that so,” Bruce says, and Dick winks at Jason. “I had also disliked reading it. Alfred read it to me some nights when I couldn’t focus enough to do my work.”
“It is a well written and influential piece of literature,” Alfred says, “I am glad to know that Master Jason understands this.”
Dick prompts Jason to speak more about school, asking specific questions that have nothing to do with Tim, and he goes with it, hoping Bruce doesn’t notice. He’s like a bloodhound when it comes to them hiding things. It’s why he’s a good detective, but also annoying when Jason just doesn’t want to talk about something.
They spend the rest of lunch talking, going back and forth, as Bruce listens. He’s smiling softly as he eats, looking between Dick and Jason, and the fond look on his face makes Jason’s heart twist.
They feel like a family. A true, proper family, getting along for once.
Jason never thought he’d have this again after Catherine died.
“That was good, Alfred!” Dick says, loudly. He stands up and grabs his plate, then holds out a hand to take everyone else’s empty plates. Jason shoves the last of his sandwich into his mouth in order to hand off his plate on time. Dick playfully blows his cheeks out, mimicking Jason’s chipmunk cheeks, and laughs when Jason kicks at him.
“Thank you, Master Richard,” Alfred says, following Dick to the sink.
“Want me to wash them for you? It’s the least I can do for everything you do for us.”
“How kind of you to offer. Please refrain from doing anything more with the dishes before you break another one.”
“Aw, come on, Alfred! It was one plate!”
Alfred raises his eyebrow. Dick’s pout can’t ever hope to compete against it. “It was one plate, eight different times.”
With nothing to say to defend himself, Dick sets the plates down in the sink and backs away, giving Alfred his space and removing himself from the vicinity of fragile ceramics. Jason bites down the last of his amusement, then side-eyes Bruce, wondering how he can sneak out of the kitchen to visit Tim without anyone knowing.
It turns out he doesn’t need to worry about sneaking out at all. Bruce stands and says, “I will be in my study if you need me. Lucius insists that I catch up on paperwork today.”
Which means Lucius is tired of doing everything for Bruce and has forcefully taken a day off. Good for him.
Bruce doesn’t bother to linger after he’s said what he’s needed to. They know what he’s doing and where to find him, which is all he needs to communicate with them. Dick waits until Bruce is out of sight to throw an arm around Jason’s shoulder and pull him out of his chair.
“Going to go see Tim now?”
“Yeah. Don’t follow me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dick says, “Not without bringing snacks as a peace offering. Alright, go check up on your adopted kid.”
“I’m not adopting him! He’s my friend!”
“Jason,” Dick says as seriously as he’s able, “You’re picking up Bruce’s habit of taking in sad little boys with no one to look after them. It’s gonna start with Tim and then next thing you know, you’ve got eight kiddos calling you big brother.” He pretends to wipe a tear out of his eye, fake sniffling as obnoxiously as possible. “They grow up so fast!”
“I am not adopting anyone! One Bruce is enough, no way am I gonna turn out like him!”
“That’s what they all say.”
Jason nerve strikes Dick’s arm and it falls from his shoulders, flopping uselessly as Dick grabs hold of it with an offended expression.
“Just you wait,” Jason says, pointing a finger at Dick’s face, “Once you see Tim, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself from going all Mama Bird on him.”
“I won’t!”
Jason grins, sharp. “Bet on it.”
“Twenty I won’t.”
“Twenty you will.”
They shake on it, firm and solid. Jason’s already looking forward to beating Dick at this; he’s way too good at making bets that he’ll win, even when the outcome he chooses is the least likely one to win. But this one? Jason’s got this. He’ll even ask Tim to turn on the waterworks for Dick if he has to.
He’s not here to play nice (except he is, with Tim), he’s here to win and make bank.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” he calls out to Alfred, then ducks under Dick’s functioning arm to avoid a noogie and heads for the door. He could always just make this way to the foyer and leave through the main entrance, but why waste the time when there’s a perfectly good door in the kitchen?
Jason doesn’t bother with walking down the road. It’s only a mile, and it’s not like anything else is out in Bristol that he needs to avoid, so he walks along the grass and patches of flowering weeds in the direction of Drake Manor.
He’s got a good feeling about this next attempt.
This time he’s going to get Tim to realize that Jason’s here to stay. Not even death is going to stop him from taking care of Tim.
He’s got this.
The doorbell rings.
“Are we expecting anymore deliveries today?” Damian’s wiping sweat off his brow as he finishes hauling another bag of dirt around the house.
“We shouldn’t be,” Tim replies, wiping his hands on his pants. “I’ll go see who it is.”
He slips off his shoes at the door, not wanting to track any dirt into the house. Going barefoot will also make it harder for anyone to hear him coming, just in case whoever is at the door is someone with bad intentions.
It takes a few minutes to get across the house, during which the doorbell rings again, echoing through the halls. He’s forgotten how loud it is since hardly anyone comes to Drake Manor, and the few who do never ring the doorbell.
In fact, there’s only one person he can remember using the doorbell, and that was just a week ago.
The feeling of deja vu hits him suddenly as he reaches for the doorknob, just able to see the single figure waiting outside, features distorted and unrecognizable through the clouded glass.
Tim doesn’t wait to get his thoughts together, body moving on its own as he opens the door, wondering if he went back in time again but only for a week this time.
Standing before him is Jason, grinning brightly at him. “Hey, Tim!” he says, as if being there is perfectly normal.
“Hey,” he manages to return, heart in his throat as he looks at his (brother; hero; friend) neighbor.
Jason is set on sticking around. It’s baffling to Tim, who has done his best to avoid him for three years. It’s one thing to speak to him at school, getting the chance to know the boy who has only ever been Robin. It’s another to see him at his front door, outside the bonds of school, choosing to be there of his own volition.
It’s overwhelming. It’s too much. It’s —
“Are you busy right now? I just wanted to hang out, and I realized I never got your number so I couldn’t just ask if I could come over. Is this fine?”
— everything Tim’s wanted since he first returned to the past.
“I was just working on a project out back. Wanna help?” Tim, acting on foolish hope, asks. Damian is out there, no doubt wondering what’s taking him so long. He won’t be expecting Jason to appear, which means his reaction is going to be all the funnier to see.
“Sure! What are you working on?”
“Just a little gardening.” Tim steps to the side, opening the door wide for Jason. “Come on in.”
And he does. He walks in like this is exactly where he’s meant to be; with Tim. With Damian.
Damian had said that Tim would be ready to stop running. He was right.
He’s done running.
Jason is here and it feels right.
It feels like he’s here to stay.