Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jason squatted on the roof, the street-light flickering below. A few kids played on the pavement while an old man sold hot-dogs on the corner. Usually he'd get one, to put a little money back in the Alley—however, certain recent events (polls) and certain asshole people (Cassandra Cain) had shot his reputation to pieces. Tonight he'd been pelted with a tomato, two bananas, and a trash-can lid.

At least Cass had been expelled from Gotham Academy. Messing with her was fun, but going to high school was not. Cass' exit gave him the perfect excuse to quit, too.

But she'd won that round. Jason drummed his fingers on his knees. So far, neither of them had given an inch. Duke hadn't given any sign of who he preferred, either. Would they have to do this forever? How much worse would it get?

A part of him (a small, tiny, insignificant part) respected Cass' tenacity. She gave as good as she got. And, though she took after Bruce in way too many aspects, she was at least honest about her hatred for him.

"Brooding, little wing?"

"It's called thinking. Not that you'd know." Jason stood, cocking his head at Dick. "Here to laugh at me?"

Nightwing's lips twitched. "Is there something to laugh at?"

"Don't play coy," Jason said, gesturing at the stains on his jacket and pants. "This is Batgirl's fault, by the way. Did you see that poll?"

"Oracle showed me." Dick shook his head. "I told you guys to get it together, not make things worse."

"Yeah, well, that's my specialty."

"What's this really about, Hood? This whole thing with Batgirl and Signal. I know it's connected."

Oh, what the hell. Jason wasn't gonna win anyway. "Me and Cass made a bet. Whoever gets Duke to admit he's the favourite first wins. We've basically been trying to win him over, and also destroy each other."

"Of course." Dick exhaled through his nose. "Someday it's actually going to be something important."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean you landed in jail, infiltrated a school, and posted a bunch of horrible stuff online just to win a bet?"

"Sorry I'm not as big a person as you are," Jason snapped.

"Don't turn this on me. Who cares who Duke loves more? Is it that important to you, being his favourite?"

"And what if it is? There something wrong with that?"

"That's not how love works, and—"

"Don't lecture me. You have no idea what it's like. You're everyone's favourite." Great, now he sounded like a jealous toddler. He couldn't even read the expression on Dick's face. "It would just be nice," Jason said, forcing his hands open, "to have someone love me that much."

Scattered shouts floated up to them, probably from the kids playing tag. Jason inched towards the edge of the roof. Explaining himself to Dick was like trying to hit bullseye on a target fifty miles away. Sometimes, it felt like they'd never understand each other.

"I'm not everyone's favourite," Dick said.

Jason groaned. "That was not the point."

"I'm not," Dick insisted. "Not now. Not when it was just the two of us. You should have heard the way Alfred talked about you, Jay. Asking me to take you for ice cream because you'd gotten a good grade. Telling me how well you fit with Bruce. And Bruce, too, when I wasn't icing him out. All he'd talk about was you." He picked at his glove. "I was mad about you being Robin, but I think I was more mad about the other stuff. About you being their favourite."

"I was never—"

"That's what it felt like, to me. It's why I stayed away. Why I didn't try with you." Dick took a step forward. "In the end, it didn't matter. Bruce's love for me had nothing to do with you. All I did was waste the time I could've spent with my little brother. So I'm telling you, not as an older brother, but as someone who loves you that much—don't waste time. You love Duke, so love him. Stop hiding under stupid bets."

"It's not stupid," Jason mumbled.

Dick grinned. "No, just tomfoolery." He pressed his comm. "I gotta go. Think about what I said, alright? And cut Cass some slack. You two are more alike than you realise."

Nightwing leapt off the roof and disappeared.

****

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Cass lowered her eyes. If she stared at the floor, Barbara's disappointment didn't feel so bad. "Sorry."

"You got yourself expelled." The floor was smooth and wooden. Oak? Hadn't Barbara said something about re-tiling the Clocktower floor? "They called Bruce, and I couldn't stop them. You'll have to explain all this to him."

"But I won the round."

"Cass. Look at me."

Cass shook her head.

"Ugh, I am too young for this." Two hands cupped Cass' cheeks, guiding her head upwards. She met Barbara's gaze. "I'm not mad. I just want to know how this got so out of hand."

"Jason plays dirty."

"And so do you, huh?"

"It was vengeance," Cass said. She tapped the bat on her chest.

Barbara's lips twitched. "You certainly are something. Look, I can see where you're coming from. That poll, though, was taking things a bit too far."

"He took it too far first." Cass held Barbara's wrists and pulled her hands away. "You said you were on my side."

"I am. I always will be. That doesn't mean I agree with everything you do, Cass. I can't imagine you or Jason had fun these past few weeks. Is winning the bet really that important?"

"Yes," Cass said. She looked down. "I hurt Duke before. Gave him bad advice. I have to make it up to him."

"What do you mean?"

"Told him the wrong things. I—" Cass screwed up her mouth. "It's been so long since meeting Batman. Since you. Yet I still don't know everything. I want to be a role model, Barbara. If I can't be a role model, then I can't be a sister. If I can't be a sister, then—then I—" She shrugged helplessly.

"Cass," Barbara said, taking one of her hands. "You're a wonderful sister. Tim and Dick gush over you. But you don't have to be perfect all the time, you know? You're allowed to make mistakes, just like the rest of us."

Cass bit her lip. Barbara was right, but—Cass wasn't like the rest of them. She would always be different. Sometimes Barbara didn't understand.

"I don't want to lose," Cass said.

Barbara's face went soft, like a pillow. "You won't. You don't need to beat Jason to keep Duke. Love isn't a battle, Cass. You won't lose him."

And sometimes Barbara did.

She swallowed Cass in a hug, her arms strong and warm. Cass leaned in, letting Barbara bear her weight, all of it. She could take it. She always had.

****

The brat was staring at him from the other roof. Jason pulled out his phone—yep, 12 p.m. Broad daylight. Yet there was Damian, all Robin'd up, waving him over with large sweeps of his arm.

"Just come here," Jason yelled.

Damian's waving grew more frantic.

Jason sighed. A relaxing rooftop stroll was apparently too much to ask for. He backed up and sprinted to the edge, leaping over the gap. Damian put his arms down as Jason approached.

"Finally." Damian grabbed Jason's jacket. "Do you always move slowly in emergencies?"

"Emergencies?"

"Yes, idiot. Duke's been kidnapped."

Jason froze. " What ?"

"Were you not monitoring the channel?"

"It's noon, my comm's in my bag! What do you mean, Duke's been kidnapped? When? By who?"

"Follow me," Damian said.

"But—"

Damian took off. Damn, he needed to change. All he had on him was his spare grappling hook and a couple of batarangs. But if he wasted time gathering supplies, Duke might—Jason swore and chased after Damian.

They were headed for the Diamond District. Damian grappled up the Fountain, a casino temporarily closed for repairs. As Jason hauled himself onto the roof, his blood pressure spiked. Because of course.

"Batgirl," he said. "How's expulsion treating you?"

Batgirl's stitched cowl shifted. "Red Hood. In sweatpants."

"Sweats are great for acrobatics, just so you know."

"What is he doing here?" Cass asked, turning to Tim.

Because, yeah, he was also here. Tim ignored them and went over to Damian, discussing something in a low voice. Jason couldn't see through the mask, but he was ninety-percent sure Cass was glaring at him. He glared back.

"Here's the rundown," Tim said. "You know how Duke's been investigating the recent string of disappearances? He found a lead in this building, but it was fake—he walked right into a Riddler trap. He managed to send a distress call to me, so I got Damian and told him to get whichever of us was closest. I got Cassie, though she decided to change," Tim said, looking Jason up and down. "Anyway. It's been ten minutes since the distress call, so let's get moving. You can wear this."

The domino mask smacked Jason in the face. He peeled it off, saying, "you think we'll be enough? Duke's not the type to get tricked. Especially not by the Riddler."

"We'll be fine," Tim said, peering over the edge of the roof. "I'll call backup if we need to. Crap, I forgot my communicator. Anyone got a spare?"

"You can have mine," Cass said, handing one over.

"Thanks. Let's head in."

He jumped, rappelling down to one of the windows. Jason slapped on the mask and followed suit, Cass and Damian on either side of him. They lasered a hole out of the glass and crawled inside.

The interior was a murky grey, the walls strangely close together. Jason could probably touch both of them at the same time. It was more of a corridor than a room, the walls stretching into darkness.

"No heat signatures besides us," Tim said. "Strange. Wait, I—"

The world exploded into white. Jason staggered back, clapping his hands over his eyes. After a few seconds Cass' voice said, "all clear." Jason dropped his arms and blinked the spots away.

"Hood," Cass said. She gripped his shirt.

"Let go, freak."

"No." She gestured around them. "Gone."

Jason stiffened. She was right—Tim and Damian had vanished. He whirled around, but the floor and walls were exactly the same. No place to hide two Robins, no matter how pint-sized.

"Shit," he said.

For once, it seemed like Cass agreed with him.

****

Something was wrong.

Not just because Duke was kidnapped. Cass tried not to think about it, about Duke tied up somewhere, waiting—she'd deal with that later. Something was wrong in this room. Before the light had gone off, she'd had that feeling. Fore-something? Tim would know. But Tim and Damian were gone, and she was left with a brother who might kill her before they did anything useful.

"We need to call backup," Jason said. "Call Nightwing. Hell, call B, for all I care. This place is giving me the creeps."

Cass reached for her comm. "Okay, I—uh."

"Uh?"

"I gave my comm to Robin."

Jason turned and smacked his head against a wall. "Fuck me."

"We can handle this," she said. She pointed to herself: "brains and brawn." She pointed to Jason: "bait."

"On second thought, fuck you ."

She opened her mouth, but Barbara's voice blared in her head: you don't need to beat Jason . Duke was kidnapped. Tim and Damian were gone. She had no comm.

She turned and smacked her head against the other wall.

"Hood," she said. She tried to say sorry but her mouth wouldn't let her. Too far. Start smaller. "We need to work together. Truce?"

"Yeah, right. You just wanna—"

"BATGIRL AND RED HOOD." Cass whipped around, batarang in hand. The voice came from the ceiling. Digital—a little distortion, but recognisable.

"Riddler," Cass said.

Jason withdrew his own batarangs. "Where's Signal?"

"HE IS SOMEWHERE WITHIN THESE WALLS. DON'T WORRY, HE'S ALIVE. FOR NOW. RIDDLE ME THIS, BIRDIES: WHAT GOES UP, BUT NEVER COMES DOWN?"

"Age," Jason said. "That's a textbook riddle. You running out or something?"

"I'M LEADING INTO THE PUNCHLINE! BUT YES, THE ANSWER IS AGE. DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE RIGHT-HAND WALL."

A panel slid open, revealing a black iPad. "THIS RIDDLE IS FOR MR. HOOD. I HAVE CAMERAS EVERYWHERE, SO IF I SEE BATGIRL GIVING ANY KIND OF HELP, THE SIGNAL WILL BE EXTINGUISHED. UNDERSTOOD?"

"Yes," Cass said. Again, that feeling—something wrong. She exchanged a look with Jason.

He stepped up to the iPad. "Give it to me."

"RIDDLE ME THIS, RED HOOD... WHAT IS BATGIRL'S BIRTHDAY?"

"What?" Jason looked back at Cass, who shrugged. "Uh, I think the announcement thingy glitched."

"IT DID NOT. INPUT THE ANSWER ON THE IPAD, D D SLASH M M SLASH Y Y, THE ONLY CORRECT DATE FORMAT."

"Are you, like, high?"

"DO NOT QUESTION ME JUST DO IT."

Cass leaned forward. She had to get the answer to Jason. If she figured out where the cameras were, maybe she could—

The iPad shone green. Jason stepped back as the panel closed, the wall becoming smooth once again.

"CORRECT. YOUR NEXT RIDDLE AWAITS YOU IN THE DARKNESS. HURRY, HURRY!"

A click. They waited a beat, two. Then Jason smacked his head against the wall again.

"What the fuck is happening."

"You knew," Cass said.

"Knew what?"

"My birthday."

"Yeah?" Jason frowned at her. "So?"

"I didn't think you'd..." She shook her head. Deal with that—whatever that was—later. "Nevermind. Let's go."

They headed into the darkness.

****

The domino mask switched to night vision, tinting everything green. Jason hated green. Not for Lazarus Pit reasons, just because it was a spectacularly ugly colour. The Pit came in handy, though—Bruce had once given him a green scarf, and after Jason had fake-sobbed his way through a 'panic attack', Bruce had felt so guilty he'd bought Jason a car instead.

"He's off, right?" Jason trailed a hand on the wall as they walked deeper into the corridor.

"Yes." To Cass' credit, she didn't need to ask who 'he' was. "Something is wrong."

"That wasn't even a riddle. Like, your birthday? How did he know if I was right or not, anyway?"

"Shut up."

"C'mon, don't—"

"Shush." Cass cocked her head. "I hear—look out!"

Jason ducked, the knife barely missing his neck. He rolled to his feet, chest heaving. "Jesus. Thanks."

"Another one." Cass dodged the blade, the metal flashing in the dark. "From the left wall. Stay close."

The order made his skin itch, but honestly, there was no one he'd rather stay close to right now than Cassandra Cain. She might be an asshole, but she was an incredibly skilled, best-fighter-in-the-world type asshole. He shifted towards her.

"You think it's really the Riddler?" he whispered.

She hesitated. "Sounds like him. But, like you said. Off."

"DID YOU ENJOY THE KNIVES?" Jason jumped. Whatever that speaker was, it was loud as hell. "WELCOME TO YOUR NEXT CHALLENGE. THE CONTESTANT THIS TIME IS BATGIRL, SO SAME RULE APPLIES: NO HELP FROM YOUR PARTNER." A slot opened in the ceiling and down dropped an iPad, dangling from a rope. Cass grabbed the device. "RIDDLE ME THIS... WHAT IS THE RED HOOD'S LEAST FAVOURITE COLOUR?"

Jason hurled a batarang at the ceiling. "Do you even know the answer to that, asshole?"

"I DO INDEED. REMEMBER WHO I HAVE HOSTAGE."

Oh god. Was he torturing this absolutely useless information out of Duke?

Cass had clearly come to the same conclusion. Her shoulders were tense as she punched in her answer, the iPad glowing green.

"WELL DONE. PLEASE PROCEED INTO THE DARKNESS."

There was a click and the voice was gone. Cass marched straight ahead, and Jason jogged to catch up.

"I feel like a guinea pig," he said. "Riddler's playing with us. We're heading into a trap."

"Don't care. Signal's there."

"Be smart about this, Batgirl."

"I am!" She whirled around, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I am smart. No matter what you think."

Jason grabbed her wrist. "Don't point at me."

"Don't touch me."

"Don't—" Jason breathed through his nose. Don't waste time. This would all be worth it, once Duke was safe. "We don't have time for this," he said, dropping her hand. "Let's keep going."

They walked in silence. The walls pressed inwards, until they were forced to walk single file, Cass in front. At least she couldn't stab him in the back that way.

Unfortunately, Jason had never done well with silence. Maybe a Robin thing. Even if it wasn't, he was still blaming Dick. "For the record, I know you're not stupid. You wouldn't be a Bat if you were. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Your words," she said, not looking back.

"Yeah, but I only say 'em 'cause it riles you up."

"I don't like it."

"And I don't like when you ask people if they think I should die," Jason said.

Cass stopped, and Jason nearly crashed into her back.

"What the hell?"

"I wasn't—" Cass' hands curled at her side. "I'm sorry."

Jason blinked. He pinched himself, then reached out and pinched Cass' arm. "Holy shit, this is real."

"I can take it back," she said, stiffening.

"Well." Jason coughed. "I mean, I guess I kinda got carried away, too. But in my defense, you were really annoying."

"No you."

"No, you."

"No—"

"PLEASE STOP ACTING SO CHILDISH."

Cass tilted her head up at the ceiling and, after a second, stuck up her middle finger. Jason grinned and did the same.

"Whatcha gonna do about it, discount Cluemaster?" he asked.

"TELL YOU TO PROCEED TO THE DOOR TO THE RIGHT."

"No." Cass thrust out her chin. "Not until you give us proof Signal is alright."

"YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND." Crackling filled the air, and then Duke's voice was shouting, "Batgirl! Red Hood!"

Jason's body flooded with relief. "Signal! Just hold on, we're coming for you."

"Hurry! Do everything he says, or else—THERE. WAS THAT ENOUGH PROOF FOR YOU? NOW GO THROUGH THE DOOR."

The door in question was the only interruption to the wall so far. It was an unassuming brown, smooth except for a knob protruding from the centre. Jason grasped it, glancing at Cass. She nodded.

He pushed, and they went inside.

****

The room was well-lit. Cass squinted, her eyes still used to the darkness outside. The floor was bare, the ceiling cracked and peeling. Rows of short spikes jutted from the walls.

"That's not creepy at all," Jason said, touching one of the spikes.

Back there, when Duke's voice had come over the speakers—the relief in Jason's face, his body. Real. He really did love him. He'd loved him all along.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," she said.

Jason's brow furrowed. "You were reading me, weren't you?"

"I don't read people."

"What's that little thing you do where you see all my actions and emotions, then?"

"Not reading. What I do, it's—" She frowned. "Different. My dad—he meant for me to use it to fight. Actions I can see, easily. Emotions are trickier. Intentions are—hard."

Jason was hard. Too many things happening at once. He looked at her, then looked away. "Huh. That is different."

"TIME FOR ANOTHER RIDDLE." The ground began to shake. Cass ran to Jason, grabbing his sleeve. Rule one of moving rooms: stay together. "THIS QUERY IS FOR BOTH OF YOU. RIDDLE ME THIS, BATS: WHAT IS ONE THING YOU ADMIRE ABOUT EACH OTHER?"

Cass gaped. "What?"

"YOU HEARD ME."

"What the fuck," Jason said. He glared at a random wall. "We're not answering that!"

"HAVE FUN BEING SQUISHED, THEN."

The ground shook more violently, and a grinding sound filled the air. Cass yanked Jason into the centre of the room. The walls were moving. Spikes inched towards them from all sides.

"Hell no," Jason said, throwing a batarang. It lodged harmlessly between two spikes.

"TICK TOCK, BATS."

They looked at each other. She wracked her brain for something to say—something she admired? Did she admire anything? Jason shook her off and continued to throw batarangs into the spikes.

The walls crawled closer. Just one thing, right? Cass sucked in a breath.

"I admire, uh—he has a strong sense of justice. Even though he kills. Which is bad. He should stop doing that."

"Don't think that's gonna cut it," Jason said through gritted teeth, attempting to push the spikes back.

"Um. He's stubborn. Which is sometimes good? Or, uh—" The walls didn't stop. "He cares," she blurted out. "About Gotham. Crime Alley. His—the Bats. It's different, and sometimes I don't understand, but he cares. Even when he pretends not to. Nothing can make him stop caring. I... admire that."

The walls slowed, but kept coming forward. "Your turn," she said.

Jason started. "Oh, right. I, uh... she's a great fighter. C'mon, how's that not enough? Okay. She—I think it's pretty cool that she made herself. Even though I say she's Batman's clone, she's not... she's more herself than most people, if that makes sense. So many people tried to make her into something else, but she defied them all. That's kinda admirable, I guess."

The grinding stopped. "GOOD ANSWERS. HEAD BACK INTO THE CORRIDOR FOR YOUR NEXT RIDDLE."

"These are not riddles," Jason yelled.

"NOT ACCEPTING CONCRIT RIGHT NOW, HOOD."

Wait. The tone on hood —the, what was it called? Inflection. Cass tugged on Jason's sleeve.

"What?"

"Down," she said. He leaned towards her, and she whispered into his ear, " Damian ."

****

Jason was going to murder those brats.

The Gen Alpha thing? Annoying, but bearable. The fanfiction thing had worked out in his favour. The text to Rose had not been fun, but he and Duke had hashed it out, and things, again, worked out for him.

But this was crossing the line. This was inexcusable. This was—

"Diablerie." Jason shook his fist at the ceiling. "You hear me? This is diablerie!"

A panel in the ceiling opened, and a piece of paper fluttered down. Cass picked it up.

"Old—" She drew the paper closer to her face. "Old man yells at cloud."

That was it. He was going to break out the guns again.

"The jig's up," he said. "I know you three are behind this. Come out!"

The panel reopened and a rope ladder slid out. Cass started climbing, vanishing into the ceiling. Jason followed.

He emerged into a stark white room, made whiter by the harsh lighting. Cass was standing beside the opening, signing furiously. Her audience—Tim, leaning against a random table; Damian, standing with his arms crossed; and Duke, in the middle, sitting on an honest-to-god throne—watched her impassively.

"So you feel betrayed," Duke said, crossing one leg over the other.

"We thought you were kidnapped," Cass hissed. "I thought you were—you could've been—how could you?"

"How could I what? Lie to you? Manipulate you? Sound familiar?"

On second thought, maybe Jason didn't need to confront these three. He felt for the lower rung with his foot.

"Don't even think about it."

Shit. Future vision. Jason crawled out and stood beside Cass.

"Duke," he said, "I—"

Duke held up a finger. "I'm gonna say my piece. Damian and Tim told me what you've been doing. Let me start off by saying I'm very, very, very disappointed."

"Very disappointed," Damian said, nodding.

"You both invaded my life and made it kinda miserable. First, you ruin my poetry reading. Then, you show up at my school and cause so much drama I can't talk to anyone without them asking me about it. I tried to be fine with it, 'cause you guys just wanted to hang out with me, right? That's what you said. You're both excellent liars. It's probably your best quality."

"Best quality," Damian said, sniffing.

"I'm not stupid. I knew something was up. But I thought, you two are my older siblings. I'll trust you to tell me in time. That trust was misplaced, clearly."

Cass stepped forward. "We're sorry. We didn't—"

"Think about it? Yeah, I figured. But that's cool. Frankly, I was just sick of you two fighting all the time, so we devised this."

"The Sibling Trap," Tim said. "Built and programmed by me, with a little help from Barbara. Great for sibling bonding and revenge. Either or."

"Now that you guys get along, this whole thing's done." Duke waved a hand. "The box, please."

Damian handed over a small matchbox, and Duke pulled out two blue ribbons.

"Since you guys were so invested, I'll give you the satisfaction of finding out who won." Duke lifted one of the blue ribbons. "This one's favourite younger sibling, and it goes, obviously, to Damian."

Damian preened as Duke pinned it to his shirt.

"And this one's favourite older sibling." Duke stood. "I think it's obvious who I'm giving it to."

He went over to Tim. Then, reaching past him, he grabbed a pen from the table and scribbled on the ribbon.

"That's right," Duke said. "You've all pushed me so far I have to give this one to Dick. Dick! How was he the only one not involved?"

"I didn't start anything," Tim said, pouting.

"Yeah, but you escalated the shit out of the situation."

"So did Damian!"

"He invited Jason to a poetry night. You sparked an entire online war."

"Online war," Damian said, smirking.

"Ugh," Tim said. "You being Duke's hype man was the worst idea ever."

Duke tossed the pen away and resumed his seat on the throne. "So, there. You two don't have to fight anymore. And you don't have to pretend to care about me, either."

"It wasn't pretend," Jason said.

Duke didn't even respond. He jabbed a thumb at the exit, looking at Tim and Damian. "Let's get out of here. You owe us ice cream, Tim."

"Damian's completely off the hook?"

"I am sorry about partaking in foolishness," Damian said, his lip trembling. "Forgive me?"

Duke squished his cheeks. "Of course I forgive you. He's just a kid, Tim. Don't be mean."

"It's because I'm brown," Damian said.

"Nope! Not doing this." Tim marched to the opening. "I'll buy you both ice cream and chicken nuggets in exchange for one hour of silence."

They went down the ladder, none of them giving Jason or Cass a second glance. The sound of Duke's laughter floated up through the gap and faded away.

Cass dropped to the floor, putting her head in her hands. Jason was tempted to do the same. The one relationship he'd had without any bad blood, and he'd ruined it. Because of course he had. Because some things never change.

Fuck. Do not cry in front of Cassandra Cain. Do not cry in front of Cassandra Cain —

****

A sniffling noise. Cass lifted her head. That couldn't be—no way.

"You're crying," Cass said. Which was stupid. Why did she say that?

Jason scrubbed his face with his sleeve. "No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

"That's a tear," she said, pointing to the one rolling down his cheek. "And another."

Jason buried his face in his hands. "Someone put me back in the grave."

He was definitely crying. Cass was the only one here. She had to—what? What did the WikiHow say? Comfort your sibling , that was step number three. Jason was... her sibling. Her little brother.

I think it's pretty cool she made herself , he'd said. He thought she was pretty cool.

She got up and went to him. He wasn't sobbing, but his breaths were short, uneven. Hurt. Like Duke, but she couldn't think about that now. One brother at a time.

"There there," she said, patting his shoulder. "It's alright."

"No, it's not." Jason's voice was muffled by his palms. "It's never alright. I'm a big fucking idiot who has to ruin everything."

Guilt, anger. At himself. Cass took a step back. "Stop it. Stop being like Bruce."

Jason's head snapped up, his gaze sharp. "Excuse me?"

"Taking all the blame for yourself." Cass looked him in the eyes. "It's not about you. I did the bet, too. I ruined things."

"So it's about you, huh? You just don't get it. You never screw up, not in anyone else's eyes. You're Bruce's perfect little girl. Hell, you're half of this family's favourite! You didn't need to fight me for Duke's love. You just wanted them all to yourself."

"And you?" Cass shot back. "You always mess up, and everyone forgives you. You have all their attention, all their love, and it's never enough. So many people would die for you, and you still want more."

"Don't you dare imply I'm selfish. Do you have any idea what it's like, being loved for someone you're not? For some kid you can't be anymore?" Jason ripped off his domino mask. "Sometimes I love him better, too. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

"Yes."

Jason faltered.

"Not the same," Cass said, because it wasn't, but she did understand, the way she understood what Jason meant by it's never alright . "I think about it too. The other me. Who'd never—done it." She looked down at her fist. "Bruce loves me," she said. "But sometimes I don't think he gets it. Or he ignores it. What I did. To love me, he has to." She relaxed her hand, splaying out her fingers. "I know. To love a version of you that doesn't exist—I know."

"I hate this family," Jason said, his voice thick.

"No. You don't."

He looked at her, his crust vanishing. Letting her see everything. "I don't know if there's a version of me that isn't like this. Even before, well, you know. Dick and Bruce, they always look at me like I've changed. Is it crazy to feel like I haven't?"

Cass shrugged. "Didn't know you. But you were probably as annoying then as now. Would hate you either way."

"And I would've hated you," Jason said, "even if you hadn't killed anyone. Would probably hate you more, actually."

"Asshole."

"Freak."

They both looked down the ladder. "We messed up," she said, quietly. "He was hurt. Bad. I don't—I don't know what to do."

"Wanna bet?"

She glared at him.

"I'm serious." He stretched out a hand. "I bet you can make up with him. You're annoyingly good at everything, so this shouldn't be hard."

Cass smiled. "I bet you can do it, too. Because you're stubborn. And Duke loves you for some reason."

They shook hands.

****

For the second time this month, Jason drove up to the entrance of Wayne Manor. He parked his bike by the bushes and entered through the front doors. Heading upstairs, he turned right and walked straight into Bruce's chest.

He stumbled back. "Shouldn't you be at work, old man?"

"I'm taking a personal day." Bruce eyed Jason up and down, like he was a buyer at a fish market. Which made Jason the metaphorical fish. He hated metaphorical fish. "What are you doing here?"

"Leaving," Jason said. God, his instincts were shit. "I mean visiting. Not you, though. Obviously."

"I see."

Jason shifted to the right, and Bruce moved to block him.

"What the fuck?"

Bruce went white. "I'm so sorry. I have no idea why I did that."

Rage bubbled in Jason's stomach, but not white-hot like it usually was. More like a soft orange. He could deal with soft orange.

"Look," he said, "I'm not gonna do anything. I'm just here for Duke."

"Duke's out with Damian and Tim. They're at the skate park."

"Of course he is." Jason ran a hand through his hair. "Well, nice chat, Bruce. See you on patrol sometime."

"Wait."

A hand clamped down on Jason's shoulder. He twisted around, fists balled. "I'm not in the mood."

"Okay," Bruce said, backing away. "I was just—I wanted to make some cookies. White macadamia. Are those... still your favourite?"

Jason's throat was dry. He nodded.

"You could help me make them. I think it'd go better, with you."

"Why?" Jason lowered his voice. "You know what happens when we spend time together. You say something shitty, I blow up, and we do it all over again. Why put yourself through that?"

Bruce blinked. "Because I love you," he said. "Didn't you know?"

Years ago, when Jason had lost his edition of The House of the Seven Gables , he'd cried for an hour straight. In that hour Bruce had driven to the nearest bookstore, bought six crates of books, and dumped them all in Jason's room. He'd drawn a smiley face and a heart on the inside of every cover.

Jason pushed off Bruce's hand. "Come on, old man. Cookies won't make themselves."

They headed down to the kitchen.

****

Cass crawled through the window. The bedroom was bright, the breeze ruffling the magazines on Stephanie's bed. She was asleep at her desk. Cass tiptoed towards her, brushing her hair off a textbook.

"Mm," Stephanie mumbled. She cracked open an eye. "...Cass?"

"Hi."

She straightened, her eyes flashing. "Done ignoring me, then?"

"I'm sorry." Cass hung her head. "You were right. About everything."

"Yeah, I know." Stephanie stretched her arms, facing away from Cass. "That all you have to say?"

"I hurt Duke."

"Hate to say it, but I told you so."

"And—I hurt you."

Stephanie's lips pressed together. "Well, the past few weeks weren't fun."

"I was being—stupid." Cass swallowed. "I should have listened. Shouldn't have ignored you. I'm so sorry. If you want to break up, I understand."

"What?" Stephanie spun towards her, eyes wide. "Oh, Cass. I don't want to break up."

"You don't?"

"I mean, I'm pissed, but not end-of-the-road pissed. I just—" She ran her fingers through her hair. "You're an awesome person, Cass, and I—I admire you so much. But sometimes it feels like you don't listen to me. Like you think you know better."

"No. Never."

"That's just how it feels," Stephanie said. Embarrassed. Sad.

Cass leaned forward, touching Stephanie's knee. "No. You are—so smart. Brave. You are my equal. Always." She dropped her hand. "I'm the one who hurts you, Stephanie. Making you feel that way. I'm the idiot."

"We're both idiots," Stephanie said, lips twitching.

"Trying to be better." Cass took Stephanie's hand, intertwining their fingers. "Promise to be better. To not... leave. Or ignore you."

"Good. You know you don't have to prove anything, right? That you're worthy of anyone's love. You are, Spookygirl. You just are."

Cass squeezed her hand. "I know. Trying not to try so hard, to win. I've... already won."

She leaned forward, knowing Stephanie would meet her halfway. She always did.

****

It was one of Gotham's gloomy days, the grey pressed thick and heavy against the streets. Jason yanked his hood down, avoiding a knocked-over trash can. Duke should be around here somewhere. He rounded the corner onto Andersen Street.

Sure enough, in the midst of greyed-out buildings, a blotch of yellow paced the pavement. Duke preferred staying low—sometimes Jason had to badger him into bringing his grappling hook. God, this kid. The things he would do for him.

"—hot and heavy, rust and steady," Duke was muttering. "Rust and ready? Rust and—"

He jerked to a stop, spinning towards Jason. Jason waved. "Got a second?"

"I'm patrolling," Duke said.

"It's a slow day." Jason rocked back on his heels. "Unless you really don't want me here, in which case—I mean, that's fine. Totally cool. Yeah, I'll just, um."

Duke sighed. "What do you want?"

"To apologise." Jason's palms were clammy. Duke's visor was not helping. "I screwed up, big time. I should never have made that bet. It was shitty of me, and I'm sorry." Duke stayed silent, and Jason ploughed on. "The reason I—no, I don't want to justify anything. I just—I'm not good at this. At being a brother. I never even tried, 'cause I thought it wasn't worth it. But you, um. You make me want to try."

"Why bother?" Duke kicked at the ground. "I thought we'd worked this out, when you gave me that poetry collection. But then I—I hurt you, with that text to Rose. And now you hurt me. Seems like a pretty terrible cycle. If it's that hard, maybe we should give up."

"The Signal," Jason said, cocking an eyebrow, "giving up?"

"It happens!"

"You sound like me right now, which is not a compliment." He put a hand on Duke's shoulder. "I've forgiven you for the whole romance thing. Lord knows I've forgiven worse. And I'll keep forgiving you, you know."

"Why?" Duke asked.

"Because—" This was so stupid, he just needed to say it — "Because I love you," he yelled. He blushed, continuing in a much more normal voice, "didn't you know?"

Duke didn't move. Then he lifted a hand, reached forward, and pinched Jason's cheek.

"Ow!"

"You're not a clone, are you?"

"Duke," Jason said, exasperated.

"Just checking." Duke grinned. "Apology accepted, pending a gift. Dami and I want those custom Nintendo joysticks."

"You never waste an opportunity, do you?"

"That's what you like about me," Duke said.

Jason squeezed his shoulder. "One of many things."

"Ew. I'm not sure I like how sappy you're being."

"Don't worry, it won't last long."

Duke hummed. "Hey, Jay? You mind getting me an ice cream bar from the bodega over there?"

"Uh, sure." Jason raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just go for five minutes, give or take."

"Okay." As he turned towards the shop, he caught a glimpse of black on the rooftop. Ah. He gave the shadow a thumbs up.

****

Cass peered over the edge. After the thumbs up, Jason had walked into the bodega, leaving Duke alone. Her turn. She breathed in and leapt off the roof.

"Did you guys plan this?"

Duke was tense. Maybe Cass should've come in casual clothes, like Jason?

"No. Coincidence." She shifted from foot to foot. "I'm sorry, little brother. Really sorry."

"Jason I get," Duke said. "I mean, he still hasn't officially called me his brother. It's his thing. But you? I don't get why you went through with it, Cass."

She gripped her cape. "I don't know. I wanted—to be better. To earn your love again."

"Earn my—what are you talking about?"

"I can't help you," she said. "Not with school. Not with your powers. Jason gets your background, I don't. You don't—need me." She twisted the fabric in her hands. "Sorry. Just made things worse."

"Well, yeah. I don't know what you thought you needed to do."

"For you," Cass said, "I'd do anything."

Duke looked at her. "Anything?"

"Yes."

"Even hang out with Jason?"

She glanced at the bodega. "Little brother," she murmured. Then, louder, "even that."

"Wow." Duke rubbed his neck. "Look, I'm still a little mad about the whole thing, but—I love you, Cass. For who you are. All you need to do is keep being you, and that's enough."

"Same for you," she said. "We shouldn't have bet, but—we love you. That was the point. The was always the point."

Duke smiled and the gloom cleared, just a little.

He tilted his head. "Ah, gotta go. Actual vigilante duties and all that. Say bye to Jason for me, will ya?"

"See you soon?"

"Very soon," Duke said. He saluted and ran down the street.

Cass turned to the bodega door, where Jason was walking out with two ice cream bars. He stopped in front of her.

"Duke ran off, didn't he?"

"Bat duties." Cass grabbed one of the bars.

"Hey!"

"Will melt," she said, tearing the wrapper off and shoving the bar in her mouth.

"Gross." Jason peeled his bar carefully. "So. I was thinking about this whole debacle, and it's unfair that Damian and Tim got away with things, isn't it?"

Cass nodded eagerly. It was mostly their fault.

"We should do something, then."

She gulped the last of her ice cream, grinning. "Sibling Trap?"

"Well," Jason said, "don't they deserve a taste of their own medicine?"