Chapter Text
Large wooden doors shut with a loud clack, Jason’s eyes still glued to the space where he had seen Dickie just seconds before. Duke lifted him enough that his feet skimmed the floor and Jason allowed himself to be swept from the dining room and into the foyer at record speed. The arm hooked across his chest kept him upright and moving, and had it not been for Duke’s quick action he would likely still be sitting in his spot at the table.
Jason wished that he could sneak away to watch the aftermath, but his heart still pounded from the sight of Dickie spasming over his dinner plate.
Cass darted in the direction of the Batcave as soon as she had the opportunity, likely to release her tension through a burst of physical activity. Jason watched her go but let himself go slack in Duke’s grip rather than run after her to join.
She looked back once over her shoulder, connecting with Jason before she hurried away.
“You okay?”
Duke crouched in front of him, a frown prominent on his face. He lifted a hand to guide Jason’s eyes to meet his own and seemingly searched his expression for any emotional tells. Out of his entire family Duke usually treated him with the most care, far more verbal with his affection with the others.
It didn’t make it easier to be viewed as a child rather than an equal.
“I’m fine ,” he muttered, head turning so that he avoided Duke’s concerned gaze.
“Dickie is going to be alright. But if you want me to stay with you-”
“I said I’m fine!”
Duke continued to study him intently. After a few seconds Jason half heartedly pushed him away, though he quickly regretted it. He wanted to take it back but found himself too insecure to ask for continued comfort. Jason hated himself for pushing away opportunities for affection, but he couldn’t reconcile with the fact that he could accept tenderness at any age.
The juxtaposition between wanting to be seen as mature and wanting to be given a real childhood tore him apart inside. Jason wanted to hate the idea of being treated as gently as they treated Dickie, but he couldn’t help but long to show his own vulnerability.
In the end he lost the opportunity to ask for what he wanted most.
Duke stood again and glanced behind him, likely doing his best to discern where he was needed the most in that moment. Jason took the opportunity to take off in the direction of his room, not surprised to hear a lack of footsteps behind him. His face flushed to the point of discomfort and he locked himself in the bathroom to shove his face beneath the faucet for relief.
Jason coughed when he got a mouthful of water, the sound swallowed by the still running faucet. Dickie’s weak gagging noises played on a loop in his head despite the added noise. He was no stranger to vomiting triggered by a physical ailment, but everyone knew that Dickie’s struggle to swallow his food came from deep seated anxiety within.
Yet it still startled Jason to see Dickie appear so small, even smaller than when he curled into a ball to sleep. Dickie’s entire body had hunched over on itself and he had squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that they nearly disappeared.
It reminded Jason of the newborn baby that his neighbor brought home before Bruce took him in. The baby cried and cried all night long, keeping him awake and irritated until he had to dress for school in the morning. But when the mother brought a half dozen muffins as an apology for the noise Jason stuck a finger into the carrier and let the newborn curl his miniature hand around the knuckle.
He remembered how it felt when Dickie held him the same way, still reaching for Jason even as he slept.
Jason journeyed to his bedroom and dove headfirst into his bed. He screamed into the pillow, still keeping it quiet enough that he wouldn’t be heard beyond his walls. He bounced wildly from red hot anger to all consuming sorrow. Jason became so consumed that he didn’t realize that someone approached his door until he heard the knock.
“Jay?” his father’s voice came from the hall, “Can you let me in, bud?”
Bruce often gave Jason time to “settle” as he called it before coming after him. Sometimes it helped him to clear his mind and become more receptive to a deeper conversation surrounding the source of his tension. Others he just wished that Bruce cared enough to run after him the second he saw Jason’s smile fade.
He took a deep breath and straightened his shirt out. Jason wanted to seem as put together as possible, to show that he could handle difficult experiences like that without devolving into a puddle of tears. Everything that he did was to prove himself as worthy of the Waynes, and he pushed through the exhaustion of emotion to open the door with as placid a face as possible.
Bruce entered the room and immediately took a seat on the bed rather than the chair by the desk. He patted the spot beside him and Jason obediently climbed onto the mattress. From this angle Bruce had a better view of Jason than he had of him. Their heights differed dramatically enough that Jason had to tilt his chin fully up to get a proper look at his father.
“Dickie is okay. Damian is bringing him upstairs to rest now,” Bruce explained.
Jason just kicked his legs and stared at the wall ahead of him. He wanted to say something kind, to prove himself a good family member, but he couldn’t hold back the wave of emotion that came with seeing Dickie on the verge of killing himself just to swallow a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
He just kept picturing how similar the look in Dickie’s eyes was when he left him in the living room barely an hour before.
“I’d like to talk about something with you, if you feel up to it,” Bruce put a hand on his shoulder.
Jason shrugged in agreement, thankful when Bruce continued to speak without reprimanding him for the lack of a verbal answer. Sometimes he wanted to be alone and quiet, but Bruce offered such little one on one time that he felt crazy for turning even a second of it down.
“It can be difficult to witness one of Dickie’s episodes. You handled it well.”
One of Dickie’s episodes .
Bruce spoke as though this happened all the time. Jason knew that Dickie had moods that required him to stay away from the rest of the family for some time, but he assumed that it was for their safety, not his. But the sight of Dickie at dinner made him question how the Court of Owls reacted when he did something they didn’t like.
“Nobody told me he freaks out like that, you know,” Jason grumbled.
“It’s a sensitive topic,” Bruce agreed, “There are some things an eleven year old shouldn’t have to know about.”
He ushered away the image of Dickie on top of him, face deadly still and fist pressed against his throat.
“I’m more mature than you think,” he countered.
Bruce gave him a hard look, his eyes steady on Jason’s face when he finally turned to face him.
“Then I suppose I can speak more openly with you,” Bruce noted.
Jason nodded, doing his best to keep the excitement at a minimum.
“Dickie told me that you two had a confrontation prior to dinner.”
“So this is my fault?”
His face fell. Every ounce of hope he had to be included as an adult now fell apart around him. He wanted to scream that he was trying to help, but knew that he would be wasting his breath. As long as Dickie had those puppy dog eyes and fits of emotion Jason would be seen as the bad guy.
“I’m not saying that, Jason. But I want to know why you thought it was appropriate to use the word ‘Talon’ around your little brother.”
“He is not my brother!”
Jason stood up, arms trembling and his face flushed just as bright as before he doused himself in cold water.
Bruce took a moment before he responded. It always made Jason feel insecure about his words, as if his father wanted him to sit with his reply before they moved on. It made lashing out in emotion far more embarrassing than when he argued with the others due to the pauses in their conversations.
“I understand that this is a difficult adjustment for you, but Dickie is a little kid. He needs to feel welcome in our home.”
“What about me ?” Jason shouted, “You’re my dad, not his! I was a little kid too when you adopted me and no one cared about making me feel like I fit in.”
Bruce reached out to him, rubbing up and down his forearm. It seemed to be an attempt to soothe him, and though the movements faltered Jason knew his father had been genuinely affected by his claim.
“Oh, Jay,” Bruce quieted his voice, “Do you really feel that way?”
Jason shrugged again, too close to tears to look him in the eye. Bruce didn’t press for him to answer out loud, but he did tug his arm gently to offer a hug. Jason fell into it, wedging himself between Bruce’s legs to hide his face in his father’s chest. They sat like that for a few minutes before Jason gained the ability to breathe properly
“I know that when it comes to discussing emotional topics I… struggle on occasion,” Bruce cleared his throat, “But I want you to come to me with things like this. You’re not alone anymore.”
Jason allowed Bruce to pull him in for a hug and relaxed into the touch. He wanted to sleep for three months straight but couldn’t stop jittering at the same time. Bruce shushed him and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the gel that Alfred applied every morning.
He felt a new wave of peace wash over him just before Jason heard Damian’s distinctive knock against his door.
Bruce looked to Jason for permission to let him in. He nodded but refused to open the door himself, so Bruce beckoned Damian inside with one arm still wrapped around Jason. Jason tried to keep a straight face but his heart pounded. In his relief to have been honest with his father he had nearly forgotten about the reason that Bruce came to speak with him in the first place.
“Where’s Dickie?” Bruce peered into the hall.
“He’s resting now,” Damian explained, “Duke is sitting with him in case he wakes up.”
“Are you sure that it’s a good idea to leave him?” Bruce grimaced.
“It’s important that I speak with Jason tonight,” Damian said, “Alone, if possible.”
Jason kept his eyes down. He wondered how much they knew about his altercation with Dickie. Bruce had been taken aback at his confession enough to drop the topic, but he suspected that Damian had a plan of action and wouldn’t relent as easily.
“Is that okay with you, Jason?”
Jason glanced up at Damian, surprised to have an option in the matter. Usually when Damian wanted to have a conversation he kept going in spite of whatever circumstances they found themselves in. Jason remembered once when Damian chewed Tim out for taking his bike without asking in a room so filled with water that he barely had space to breathe.
Jason agreed and felt Bruce lead him back so that he could stand himself.
“Why don’t you come find me after you two finish?” he offered, “I can leave for patrol an hour late tonight.”
The idea of Bruce staying behind for him made Jason smile without meaning to. His father brushed his hair back into place with his hands and offered a final hug before he retreated down the stairs. Damian took up the chair in the corner rather than sit on the bed so that he and Jason were at a similar height when he returned to his seat on the mattress.
“I’m sure that today has been overwhelming for you,” Damian started, “So I want to begin the conversation by assuring you that I’m not angry with you. And you’re not in any trouble.”
Jason looked at Damian directly for the first time since he entered and recognized an uncomfortable level of genuinity on his face. He had expected Damian to come in with his lecture fully prepared, but he paused to allow Jason the time to process his statement.
“I’d like to discuss what happened between you and Dickie this evening, if you’re up for it,” Damian clarified.
Dickie could communicate well enough that Damian likely knew about their negative confrontation to some extent. Jason could only guess how clear that conversation came across, especially with Dickie in such a fragile state. He could only imagine the reaction that the rest of the house would have if they learned of his mistake.
“Are you going to tell Bruce?” Jason sniffled.
“Nothing that you don’t want me to,” Damian offered.
Jason nodded, still unsure as to whether or not he could trust his older brother. After all, he clearly cared more for Dickie than anything else in the world. But Damian never lied, even when it made him mean, so Jason accepted the promise easier than he might have from Duke or Stephanie.
“Alfred told me to wash up before dinner, but on my way I bumped into Dickie spying on you and Duke,” Jason began, “So I asked him what you said. But he wouldn’t tell me.”
“Have you witnessed Dickie eavesdropping that way before?”
“I guess,” Jason looked at his feet.
“And have you participated as well?”
Jason felt his cheeks heat up once again, caught between embarrassment and irritation.
“Nobody tells me anything around here,” he snipped, “It’s the only way I can get information about our current cases and assignments.”
“Well, I’d be a hypocrite if I criticized you for that,” Damian divulged.
Jason felt a bolt of confidence when Damian admitted to participating in similar habits. He expected to be reprimanded for his behavior, but from the brief smirk on Damian’s face Jason wondered what exactly he could get away with under the guise of Robin.
“He’s supposed to tell me what he hears so I can explain it to him,” Jason continued, “So I got kinda mad when he didn’t tell me what he heard. But then I realized that he wanted to tell me but didn’t know how. Because nobody ever taught him how to say… that stuff.”
“So you taught him how to say The Court of Owls and to spell Talon,” Damian inferred.
“Nobody else was going to do it.”
Jason pushed his limits just enough to reveal one of Damian’s tell-tale scowls. For a moment he questioned his decision to be difficult, but Damian relaxed again after a beat and proceeded with the conversation in a level headed manner. His next question sent Jason’s heart right into his gut.
“Dickie told me that you sang him a song.”
“It’s stupid,” Jason muttered, “Kids sing it at school.”
Jason had watched the other children in his class recite countless nursery rhymes and construct intricate dances alongside them during recess breaks. They were easy to memorize but he never participated due to his desire to be seen as mature. It didn’t stop the songs from getting stuck in his head or his feet absentmindedly tapping out the beat when he wasn’t paying attention.
But he recognized the smiles on their faces and knew to some extent that it must have been fun to make them laugh like that. So when he saw Dickie even paler than usual with a dead eyed stare and trembling hands he wondered if something that made other kids happy would help him too.
“I think it was around when I attended Gotham Academy as well,” Damian informed him, “Beware the Court of Owls that watches all the time ruling from a shadow perch behind granite and lime.”
“They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed…”
“Speak not a whispered word of them or they’ll send the Talon for your head,” they finished together.
Jason tried to imagine Damian playing with the other children in the courtyard and nearly smiled in spite of himself. They had both spent years watching their peers from the outside, always looking for a way in but never taking it. Jason had turned down countless “playdates” as the other kids’ guardians called them, and he knew that Damian’s friends came exclusively from his life as a vigilante.
For one of the first times in his life he looked at Damian and realized that they were more similar than either of them wanted to think.
“And then you pushed him?”
Jason closed his eyes and pictured himself dancing in a circle around Dickie. He hopped in all of the right spots that he’d seen from the other kids and grinned when he noticed Dickie have that same flicker of nerves that he recognized from his schoolmates. He saw himself grip Dickie by the shoulders and jerk him back and forth, making sure to keep him upright despite the shaking.
“It’s just a game,” he whispered, “It’s supposed to be scary at first, but all of the kids laugh at the end. I thought that…”
After all this time he thought that he had finally learned how to have fun with someone similar in age, but he messed it up just as easily as he did with his older siblings. He felt himself trapped between childhood and adulthood, only eleven but forced to live a dozen lifetimes over within that decade.
“I thought it would help ,” he emphasized, “But I must have messed it up because he freaked out.”
“Jason, I want you to look at me and listen. What happened today with Dickie is not your fault. You couldn’t have known how he’d react.”
Jason’s heart beat faster in his chest at the mere memory of ending up flat on his back without warning. He trained tirelessly to reach the same heights as the rest of his family, but when the opportunity to act quickly presented itself he immediately failed to react accordingly. It embarrassed him to have been taken down so easily, let alone by someone about half of his size.
“Dickie told me that he jumped on you, but his vocabulary is still limited. Do you feel comfortable recounting what happened?” Damian asked.
“It happened really fast,” Jason clarified, “One second I thought everything was okay and the next he was sitting on my chest with one of his fists on my neck. It didn’t hurt or anything, but, um.”
“It scared you,” Damian stated.
Jason wanted to be angry at the insinuation that Dickie would ever cause him fear, but the weight of the situation hit him all at once and he couldn’t hold back tears any longer. Jason buried his face in his hands and cried like he hadn’t in months, his body heaving with sobs at the memory of the unadulterated fear he experienced when Dickie attacked him.
He felt ridiculous for getting so upset when he hadn’t even been hurt, but the safety he usually felt in Wayne Manor had rescinded enough to knock him off balance.
“I was so mean to him,” Jason hiccuped, “I told him that Bruce would send him back if I asked.”
Damian stood up from his seat and Jason prepared himself to be shunned for his outburst. But instead his eldest brother came a few feet closer to the bed and crouched down. It unsettled Jason to be higher up than Damian, for even a moment, and shocked him enough that he stopped crying and stared slack jawed in surprise.
“I’m going to tell you a secret,” Damian lowered his voice, “Dickie scares the shit out of me sometimes too.”
Jason guffawed, so unused to Damian cursing that it startled him out of his heavy weeping. The more he considered the words the more confused he became. To think of Damian, a man raised by The League of Assassins and Batman, as scared of a six year old boy was almost too outlandish to believe. But they had all seen Dickie in action, and they all knew his origin.
“We’re more similar than either one of us might think,” Damian admitted, “When Bruce adopted Duke I threatened to blow up the Batcave.”
“But you and Duke are best friends,” Jason furrowed his eyebrows.
Damian chuckled at that. Jason never fully questioned the reactions that the other family members had with each new addition. All this time he had assumed that he was the problem, and that had Bruce brought home anyone else in the world they would’ve been accepted immediately. It made it all the worse when he believed that to be happening with Dickie.
“It took a while for me to come around. By the time Stephanie arrived we had formed a truce of sorts,” Damian detailed, “And then, well.”
Jason knew that Damian referenced Stephanie’s death as Robin. Though Jason hadn’t known them at that point the event always loomed large over the family. It separated Bruce, Duke, Damian, and Stephanie from the others in a way that could never be overlooked. Jason had heard stories of their lives before, but from the look on Damian’s face there was so much more that they hid away.
“But Bruce just wouldn’t stop. Tim came and I wanted to like him. I wanted to get to know Cass,” Damian admitted.
He shook his head as though it would get rid of his onslaught of emotions. For the first time Jason noticed the cracks in his carefully constructed persona that distanced Damian from the others. What he had originally perceived as apathy now revealed itself to be anxiety.
“I should have tried harder with you, Jason. And I’m sorry that I didn’t.”
Damian wrapped an arm around Jason and held him for a while as he calmed down. They both appeared to be deep in thought during the silence, but neither made a move to separate from one another. Jason enjoyed the warmth despite the rigidity of Damian’s embrace.
“I’m sorry that I hurt Dickie,” Jason mumbled, “Will I still get to see him?”
Damian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Jason, how much do you know about my upbringing?”
“I know that you were trained by assassins,” he ventured.
“When I met Father he had half a mind to turn me away. I spent a long time proving myself a worthy ally rather than an extension of the enemy. And I notice the way everyone looks at me, even now. Like I’m two steps away from becoming my grandfather,” Damian gritted.
“But you’d never do that,” Jason cut in.
Damian shrugged, shooting him a coy smile straight after.
“The Court of Owls isn’t a nursery rhyme. Someday you’re going to look back and realize that you were too young to learn about any of this.”
Jason frowned, aggravated once more at feeling so ostracized from the others. He wanted to argue back that Damian joined Batman as Robin years before Jason took to the streets, but then he felt his brother’s hand press flat to the top of his head and push his hair back.
“And I hope you’ll forgive me for telling you.”
Damian gestured for Jason to follow him down the hall. They traveled downstairs and into one of the main studies. Jason remained stoic when they passed one of his favorite hiding spots tucked behind an armoire in the corner. He questioned just how many of his own eavesdropping locations served the others as well.
“Here it is,” Damian lifted a box filled to the brim with manilla folders and old books, “Too much to get through in one night but I’ll give you the gist.”
Jason took a seat at the opposite side of the desk and waited patiently while Damian sorted his evidence. He left several files in the bin, but Jason understood that he couldn’t be given full access straight away. It would take time to be more fully integrated into the case and he accepted that without complaint.
“We destabilized The Court, but there are still lurkers. It’s impossible to know how many so we have to remain vigilant,” Damian gestured to a blurry surveillance photo.
Jason sorted through a handful of testimonies from various individuals that agreed to share their history with The Court. He was surprised to see that another Talon, Mary Turner, offered her own detailed account of their training. She recounted unimaginable methods of torture used to keep them in line but Jason struggled to conceptualize that sort of violence.
He looked over photographs of the other Talons and saw portions of their bodies fully rotted away after decades of physical torment.
Jason examined the mechanics behind machines that pumped electrum into their veins and learned about its chemical makeup. He thought about Dickie’s gray skin and pitch black veins and freezing cold hands. He resented himself for pulling away.
“So if you didn’t find Dickie he would have to do all of this when he grew up?”
Damian appeared at a loss for words. It took him longer than usual to compose himself.
“The Court of Owls has no sympathy for children.”
Jason pushed the files away in disgust. His stomach flipped, suddenly cognizant of what the family hid from him all this time. He understood why they treated Dickie like glass, not necessarily because he would shatter without constant touch but because he had never experienced tenderness in the first place. It made his own transgression all the worse.
But he still found himself wrapped up in anger. The others knew that Jason had little affection growing up as well, but they never offered him the same grace. It aggravated him to only be taken into account when someone smaller and sadder joined the Waynes.
Jason tremored with rage and guilt and an understanding that only intensified them both. He assumed that being better informed would ease the storm within him but it didn’t so much as make a dent in the clouds. He hated himself for not having been more gentle and hated himself for still wanting to lash out.
But Damian knelt in front of him, took his hands, and promised once again to do better.
“I hope you’ll let us make it up to you,” he whispered, and through the confusion Jason allowed himself to be wrapped up in a hug.
Jason stayed in Damian’s arms as he stood up. They walked through the manor until they finally found Bruce rummaging through a bin of old DVDs in the living room. When he saw Jason he held up his favorite movie and smiled warmly.
“They took it off of the streaming service,” Bruce explained, “ Plus the DVD copy has a blooper reel after the credits.”
Damian dropped Jason into Bruce’s lap and ruffled his hair one final time before leaving with a wave over his shoulder. Bruce kept Jason in his grasp as he set up the DVD player and figured out which remote he needed to use. By the time they settled in on the couch his eyelids drooped and he drifted in and out of sleep.
Jason woke up in his own bed the following morning with no memory of having gotten there himself. He still wore his clothes from the previous evening and his hair stuck to the side of his face. It took a minute for him to orient himself, but when he finally placed his surroundings Jason shimmied from beneath the covers and went to get ready for the day.
When he descended the stairs for breakfast he noticed Tim and Cass at the dining table. They both appeared to be finished with their own meals but when Jason entered they offered him a smile and beckoned him to sit between them. Alfred emerged with waffles, his favorite, and a plate of fruit with whipped cream on top.
“Damian asked us to send you upstairs when you’re done with breakfast,” Tim told him, “If you’re up for it, anyway.”
“ Dickie asked for you ,” Cass explained.
Jason mulled over the request for a few minutes. While he thought through it Tim and Cass entertained him with jokes and even a brief discussion of the case they worked the night before. By the time Jason cleared his plate was laughing along and offering stories of his own.
The sense of belonging with his siblings, however brief it might be, gave him the confidence to seek Dickie out following the conclusion of his meal. He felt more determined than ever to be the big brother that he had always longed for. He didn’t have to make the same mistakes that his older siblings did.
So Jason climbed the stairs an hour later and focused on keeping his heart level. He knew that Dickie would hear him coming long before he saw him. When Damian opened the door he smiled, clearly relieved, and beckoned Jason inside.
He scuffed one foot against the other, the fabric of his sock stretching across an old blister. Jason ignored the slight discomfort in favor of following behind Damian, taking the short trek down the hall one step at a time. When they arrived at the sitting room Jason waited in the doorway so that Damian could enter first.
“Dickie, you have a visitor.”
Jason stepped inside and caught his first glimpse of Dickie. He sat on the floor, his security blanket tucked into the front of his shirt for easy access and a small quilt wrapped around his shoulders. He appeared more apprehensive than usual but didn’t scurry away.
“Is it okay if, um,” Jason cleared his throat, “Do you want to play?”
Dickie nodded. He already had a large spread of toys in front of him, but Jason recognized Damian’s attempt to recreate the way he usually sorted them. The stuffed bear sat too close to the straw doll, and they had the wrong tea cups in front of them.
From Damian’s intense attention to detail Jason assumed that he did so to encourage Dickie to correct their placement himself. It hadn’t worked.
Jason tucked his legs beneath him and began to fix the mess in slow, deliberate motions. He kept at least an arm’s reach away from Dickie to give him time to adjust to his new visitor. After another few seconds Dickie followed along until they sorted the toys properly.
“I like your setup better anyway,” Jason grinned.
Dickie let a smile of his own slip. It eased the tension between them enough that Jason relaxed his shoulders and leaned against the couch. Though they didn’t speak much for some time Jason enjoyed the comfort that came with just enjoying one another’s company. Damian sat in a chair in the corner but he kept his eyes pointed at a book rather than their interactions.
“I have something for you.”
Jason reached into his sweatshirt pocket to remove a small cloth doll. He had been working on it for the last week or so during his free time, each stitch as perfect as the last with a blue knit sweater covering its abdomen. He had gotten the supplies from Damian, dedicated to choosing the same exact materials that the other dolls had been made with.
He placed it in front of Dickie so that he could examine it without having to touch it immediately. After a few seconds of preliminary observations Dickie’s eyes lit up. He lifted the doll so gently that Jason worried it would fall out of his hands.
“ Me ?”
“Yeah, you,” Jason confirmed, “You’re part of our family now, Dickie. If everyone else gets a doll then you should too.”
Dickie clutched it to his chest and sniffled. Damian perked up but made no effort to step in, even when Dickie looked up with tears in his eyes. Jason froze, not having expected such a strong reaction. He had been sure that Dickie already knew himself to be a member of their family, but from the surprise in his expression Jason recognized his own insecurities.
“I’m really sorry for scaring you yesterday. And for saying all of those mean things.”
“ I’m sorry I jumped on you ,” Dickie frowned.
“That’s okay, stuff like that happens sometimes,” Jason shrugged, “Maybe we can spar together sometime and you can show me how to move that fast.”
Dickie appeared relieved at the offer. His bleary eyes cleared up and he scooted a few inches closer to Jason after a moment’s hesitation. Jason closed the remainder of the distance and took Dickie under his arm. The younger boy offered to share his quilt and they spent the next half hour playing quietly with the stuffed animals in front of them.
When they grew bored of the silence Jason stood up and held out a hand. Dickie paused, his own uncovered, but Jason clasped his fingers anyway and tugged him to his feet. He lifted Dickie to rest on his back. Damian didn’t have the opportunity to warn them to be careful before Jason took off running around the wing. Dickie laughed in delight and clung to his shoulders as they sprinted up and down the halls. Jason couldn’t help but laugh along when he heard it, even when he ran out of breath.
After the tenth round he collapsed on the couch, pinning Dickie beneath him lightly enough that he could easily get away. Instead he felt Dickie curl around him, clutching his shirt to keep him in place. They remained connected to one another even after Damian called them for lunch, both pretending to have fallen asleep without having to communicate the plan with one another.
Dickie released a sigh of contentment, his breath warm against the crook of Jason’s neck. And in that moment, despite the cold skin and superhuman senses, Jason wanted nothing more than to be his loving older brother.