Chapter Text
Tim was alive. Jason's little brother was alive. Yeah he was a dog for some reason, but that hardly mattered. They were friends with the justice league, hell, one of Tim's best friends had been a clone. They'd figure out the dog thing eventually.
"You're actually alive," Jason breathed into his brother's fur. "The others are going to think I've finally lost it." Tim pulled out of his embrace and looked at him, head tilted.
"I didn't handle you dying well," he admitted. "None of us did really. Hell, Damian was probably the worst. All that work we did getting him to act like a real boy was just, poof, gone. He went back to acting like a perfect little soldier and Bruce wasn't any better. He just completely shut down. Finally Dick dragged both of them to therapy with him and they got better but," Jason signed deeply.
"But I didn't know how to handle it. You were gone and the only person I felt like I could talk to about how your death affected me was you. So I… I kinda shut everyone else out. For months I didn't talk to them. Finally Cass had had enough. She showed up at my safe house, beat the everloving shit outta me, drugged my ass and hauled me back to the manor. It worked though. Got me talking to everyone again. And with my leg busted it wasn't like I could leave."
Tim whined, an absolutely pitiful sound, and put his head on Jason's knee. Jason ruffled his ears, the one floppy one bouncing all over the place. Jason had to admit, Timbit made a really cute dog. His eyes were icey blue, pretty similar to how they'd been when he was human. And his fur was a mess, long and coarse and sticking up in every direction, also pretty similar to how his hair had been.
"It's been a long day huh," Jason sighed. "Why don't we get some sleep. We'll tell the others tomorrow."
"Bark bark." No.
"What?" Jason asked, confused. Tim hopped off the couch and went over to the shopping bags on the floor. He nosed around in one for a bit before coming back holding several things in his mouth. Tim dropped his prizes in Jason's lap and tilted his head, mouth open in a doggy grin.
Jason inspected what Tim had brought him and realized it was the Red Robin collar and the little tag Jason had had engraved with his phone number on it.
"Oh, I completely forgot about that," Jason admitted as he set about attaching the tag to the collar. They'd picked the Wonder Woman tag as a compromise. "I get why you were so insistent about the collar now. Here ya go." Jason removed the plain red one and put the new one around Tim's neck.
"It's not too tight right?" Tim stood and shook his whole body, like dogs do when they're shaking water off. Then he tilted his head and grinned.
"You ready for bed now?"
"Bark." Yes.
…
Tim didn't fall asleep right away. His back was pressed up to Jason's chest and the man had an arm thrown across him and his face buried in the fur on his neck. The blanket was pulled up around them both, an absolute necessity as Jason ran a few degrees colder since his dip in the pit and the cold that had seeped into Tim's bones those few nights on the street had yet to leave him.
Jason had told him some things earlier that had surprised him. He figured his family would be upset that he'd died, but he didn't think they'd all shutdown like that. He really wasn't expecting that kind of reaction from Damian. Sure they'd settled into a kind of truce and the brat wasn't trying to kill him all the time anymore, but they'd never really felt like brothers. Not the way Dick, and especially Jason, did. He'd seriously misjudged what Damian thought about him. He'd have to work on their relationship more now that he had another chance.
Tim's other concern was more practical, how the hell he was supposed to communicate with his family. Yes and no questions were already sorted thanks to Jason, but Tim had no way to ask questions on his own, apart from Morse code but that was extremely tedious. It'd worked for proving he wasn't just a dog, but it'd be a pain in the butt long term. Typing might be an option, but Tim did not have the fine motor control needed to use his feet. He was going to have to use his mouth somehow, maybe holding a pen so he could touch one button at a time.
Tim opened his eyes and tried to focus on the place a keyboard would be if he was typing that way. He realized his giant nose was gonna be in the way and he'd have difficulty actually seeing what key he was pressing.
Those buttons he'd seen dogs using online would be a good everyday tool though. He had no idea how long he'd be stuck like this before a solution was found.
Tim yawned, he was tired, and today had been a long day. He needed sleep.
…
"Wake up Timmy," Jason urged, gently shaking his shoulder. Tim grumbled and failed his front legs at his brother, succeeding only in tangling the blanket around himself. He was tired and wanted more sleep. This whole life had been exhausting and Tim was finally, truly, safe.
"We need to leave now if we want to make it in time for Sunday breakfast at the manor."
Ugh, fine, Tim would get up for that. He'd gotten head pats from Dick yesterday but it wasn't the same as everyone learning he was alive. Tim groaned and sat up, blinking bleary-eyed at the room.
"Woah, and I thought your bed head was bad before," Jason grinned at him. Tim glared, which isn't easy to do with a dog's face. Jason was already dressed and holding a travel mug of sweet, life giving coffee. Tim only hadn't noticed it yet because his nose had been pressed up to the blanket which smelled strongly of Jason and the same laundry detergent Alfred used. Tim stared down the coffee and licked his lips, a clear message.
"Sorry, but I already looked it up and dogs can't have coffee," Jason admitted.
Tim groaned and dramatically flopped back down in bed. What was even the point then. He'd swore he'd give up coffee to live but now that he physically couldn't drink coffee? Life just wasn't fair.
"I know if you could talk you'd be saying something extremely dramatic," Jason accused.
"Bark." Yes.
"You even managed to make your bark dramatic. Come on Lassie, get up." Tim got up. They headed down and Tim snagged his tire toy, now free of tags, thanks Jason, before climbing into the front seat of Jason's car.
"Hang on," Jason looked Tim up and down with an expression of deep thought. "I should have done this last night but I wasn't sure if you'd cooperate. We should buckle you up."
"Bark." Yes.
"Your barks sound funny with that toy in your mouth. What's with that anyway? Dog instinct to chew shit just so overwhelming?" Jason asked as he carefully buckled him in. The shoulder strap kept sliding off, but if Tim stayed still it'd be better than nothing.
"Bark." Yes, Tim answered Jason's question. Canine brain really liked chewing on stuff, and chasing stuff, and sniffing stuff, and don't get Tim started on peeing on stuff. That was always a riot.
"Wait really?" Jason asked as he started the car. "You've actually got dog instincts?" Tim set the toy on the seat next to him before answering.
"Bark." Yes. I call them canine brain and they are very annoying.
"Weird. I wanna know more about that once we figure out the whole communication thing. Speaking of which, we should probably go over my plan to explain this."
"Bark." Yes.
"I think I'm just gonna come out and say it,"
"Bark bark." No, Tim interrupted sharply.
"How come?" Jason spluttered. Because that was extremely tacticless? Because they were liable to reject the idea as ludicrous and predispose themselves to reject any evidence to the contrary? Tim tried his best to explain this.
"Aaawwooooo," Tim howled.
"Okay, okay, stop that!" Jason scolded. "Fuck you're loud. What am I supposed to do?"
"Grrrrrr," not that.
"I don't know what that means," Jason wined. "Look, I'm just going to tell them and then you can do your whole, yes/no thing, then Bruce can call Zatanna, or Constantine, or Martian Manhunter, and we can figure out how to turn you human and then we can go back to wrecking each other in Smash Bros."
Tim didn't like it but he'd already expressed his displeasure. There wasn't anything left to do but watch this dumpster fire of a plan burn.
…
Tim was home. Technically he hadn’t lived full time at the manor for years, but fuck it, he was home. He really hoped Bruce had pulled the same stunt he had when Jason died and locked up his room as some kind of emotionally constipated memorial because Tim really didn't want to have to hunt down all his stuff. The clothes he couldn’t give a shit about, but if they gotten rid of or gave away his cameras, pictures, and computers, he'd have a meltdown. A proper meltdown, complete with feeling like an emotional piece of shit after.
Jason parked in the large circular driveway and unbuckled Tim's seat belt.
"I texted Damian to have him put Titus and Ace away. Don't need to deal with that introduction right now." Tim was grateful. He'd not had the best experience with other dogs, so putting off that meeting for when he wasn't full of nerves was a good idea.
"Good morning, Master Jason," Alfred greeted as he opened the door. Jason hadn't even knocked yet so they were clearly expected. "And I suppose this is Seal. Master Dick has already told everyone all about your adventures in acquiring him last night. I trust the dog food we selected was to his liking?"
"Bark." Yes.
"Yeah, I'd say he likes it," Jason laughed. Alfred raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"The rest of the family is in the breakfast nook," Alfred explained as they entered the manor. "Has dear Seal had breakfast yet?"
"Bark bark." No.
"He hasn't eaten yet," Jason translated.
"Quite a talkative fellow isn't he?" Alfred observed. "Perhaps there's a little husky in him."
"Maybe," Jason agreed.
Alfred led them to the breakfast nook where Bruce was sitting at the head of the tables with Dick on his right and Damien on his left. They all already had plates piled high with pancakes and French toast.
"You brought Seal!" Dick exclaimed. Tim immediately shoved his head in Dick's lap and got his ears thoroughly ruffled.
"I wish to meet him," Damian nearly whined, leaning over the table to get a better look.
"Patience, Master Damian," Alfred scolded as he set a plate of food in front of Jason and set a bowl for Tim on the floor. Canine brain really wanted that food, but Tim wanted to greet his little brother more. He walked under the table to set his head in his little brother's lap. Damian gently pressed his hands to the side of Tim's head and bent down to touch their noses together.
"He is a beautiful dog, Jason," Damian admitted.
"Yeah, he's awesome," Jason agreed.
"Have you started training him yet?" Bruce asked. Tim snorted and left Damian to eat his food. It was the same stuff Jason had fed him last night, but there was a raw egg on top of it along with some carrots and peas. Alfred cared about the nutrition of all his charges after all.
"Give him a break B," Dick scolded half heartedly. "He only got Seal last night."
"It's never too soon to start training," Bruce grumbled, but Tim could hear the smile in his voice.
"I agree father," Damian began. "Jason should start a training regime,"
"Let the boy eat before you plan out his dog's next five years," Alfred scolded from the kitchen where he was cleaning up.
"Thanks Alfy," Jason muttered.
Tim finished his breakfast and took his bowl to Alfred in the kitchen.
"Oh, thank you," Alfred said, shocked. But he took the bowl and Tim snorted his thanks before trotting back to sit next to Jason's chair.
"Smart dog," Bruce observed.
"I actually have someone I want to tell you about him. Hey, buddy, come here." Jason had pulled out a chair and patted the seat, so Tim hopped up and sat in it.
"Jay," Bruce warned.
"Trust me," Jason urged.
…
Jason took a deep breath. He had planned to just come out and say it, but now looking at his family staring at him expectantly he back peddled.
"Uh, watch this." He turned to Tim who looked at him expectantly. "Same thing as before, one bark for yes, two for no. Got it?"
"Bark." Yes.
"Is the sky green?"
"Bark bark." No.
"Is my name Jason?"
"Bark." Yes.
"Is two plus two six?"
"Bark bark." No.
"Is Jason a dork?" Dick asked, grinning like he was enjoying this.
"Bark." Yes. Dick burst out laughing.
"You failed to signal him correctly that time," Damian observed. "It is a neat trick however. I might teach it to Titus."
"What? It's not a trick," Jason spluttered. "He's actually answering the questions! I'm not signaling him."
"No shouting at the table," Bruce scolded as he cut up his pancakes.
"Yeah, chill out little wing. It's okay," Dick said. Jason barely restrained a growl. This was not going how he wanted.
"He's actually answering the questions because he's not a dog, he's Tim! Our brother!" Jason exploded. All movement at the table stopped.
"Jay," Dick breathed, disappointment dripping from his voice.
"I'm not crazy," Jason argued.
"I know Tim's death was hard," Bruce started. "Maybe we should revisit therapy for you."
"I don't need therapy!" Jason exclaimed. "I need you to listen to what I'm saying! I fucking swear that is our brother!"
"Tim is dead Todd," Damian scoffed. "And that is just a dog."
"But he's not just a…"
…
Tim interrupted the conversation by jumping up onto the table, careful not to upset anyone's food. He'd watched this dumpster fire conversation go on long enough.
"Awoooo!" he howled.
"Jason, get your dog off the table," Bruce said, his tone dark.
"Just try it B, ask him to do something I wouldn't have trained him to," Jason begged. "He was whining SOS at me in Morse code last night. That's how I realized something was up."
"I didn't notice that," Dick argued. To prove Jason right however, Tim immediately started whining in rhythm. Three short, three long, three short. Everyone watched him.
"SOS," Damian breathed.
"He came to us because he recognized us," Jason explained. "He's been reincarnated or something. I'm not sure yet, we haven't figured out a way to talk about it yet and…"
"Tim," Bruce cut in, stopping Jason's rambling. Tim turned to his father and gave him his full attention. "Put your back left foot in your mouth." Tim immediately tried. It took him a second, but he managed it with only a little undignified wiggling. He looked at Bruce proudly before letting go.
"Go pull Damian's hair," Bruce ordered.
"What?" Damian exclaimed. Tim ignored him and walked across the table to him. His little brother sat very still as Tim took some of his hair in his mouth and gave it a gentle tug.
"Tim?" Bruce asked.
"Bark." Yes .
"Come here," Bruce stood and opened his arms. Tim's heart surged with joy as he leapt into his dad's arms. Bruce caught him and held him close, one arm supporting his rump and the other threaded through the thick fur of his neck.
"Son," Bruce sobbed.
"Holly shit," Dick breathed.
"I told you!" Jason exclaimed.
"Timothy?" Damian asked, his voice wet with tears. Suddenly, Dick slammed into them, wrapped himself around Tim and Bruce.
"This is incredible," Dick sobbed into his fur.
"Timothy?" Damian asked, placing a hand on Tim's side. Tim licked a stripe down his face. Damian spluttered in indignation and wiped the slobber off Tim's fur, but he joined in the group hug.
"I'm ever so happy to see you Master Timothy," Alfred said, running a gentle hand across Tim's head. Tim leaned into the touch. He was home.