Chapter Text
Jason woke up first. When had he fallen asleep? He’d planned on sneaking out once Timmy was settled and go sleep in the library or something. He had no desire to go into his old bedroom, and it felt weird to go in Tim’s without the kid with him.
Everyone else was breathing evenly so they must still be sleeping. There was still time to leave. But Dick’s leg was slung over Jason’s, he was a heavy sleeper but not that heavy. Dick would wake up and ask questions Jason didn’t want to answer. The bed was warm at least. He refused to admit he found comfort in his family’s presence. Jason finagled his phone out of his back pocket only to discover it was dead. Right, he hadn’t plugged it in. He had come straight from the Cave to Timmy’s room then here.
Jason was willing to admit he had panicked when he heard the faint sound of crying after stepping out of the grandfather clock. He had tracked the sound to find Dick had gotten there first. Timmy had had an accident and was not happy about it. It felt like forever until B showed up and was able to calm the Little down. Jason wanted to be resentful, but really he was just grateful. He didn’t know how much more crying he could take. Sharing the bed after was less great, but it was worth it for Timmy. The kid, toddler now, had hella separation anxiety.
Dick woke up next. He flung his arm over Jason where it proceeded to hit his face. Dick grabbed his face like Timmy had the night before, checking that it was him and he was still there.
“Stop, Dickwad!” Jason whispered as angrily as he could muster.
“Just checking. You could be a criminal in B’s bed.”
“I am a criminal.”
“But you’re our criminal.” Dick stopped touching Jason, instead sitting up and cooing at Timmy. Jason took the opportunity to sit up too. Awesome, he could leave now. Pretend he wanted breakfast and not to get away from B and his brothers. Wait, fuck, Dick was leaning on him now. “You’re so big now, perfect for hugs. I thought you were the perfect size when you were little but this is even better.” Dick slung an arm back over him, this time in an embrace rather than attempted suffocation. Right, he was a lot more cuddly when tired. Jason had learned that years before, pretty much as soon as Dick stopped hating him.
“Let go of me,” Jason whispered.
“No. Now shut up, I don’t want you to wake Timmy.”
So this is what would (re)kill Jason Todd. Forced cuddling in Batman’s bed. Jason sighed and settled down into the mattress. He might as well be comfortable.
[{(o)}]
Bruce didn’t open his eyes when he woke up. It was mostly habit at this point, if he was ever captured he could gain information without his captors knowing he was awake. He kept his breathing slow and stable and was careful not to shift.
He obviously hadn’t been kidnapped, he was in his bed. There were three others breathing beside him. His boys, his sons. The night before came rushing back. Bruce had made a lot of mistakes in his life, but he couldn’t regret the ones that had led to this. All three of his boys were safe and comfortable at his side. The only one he could feel was Tim, who was pressed slightly into his side. He was still asleep. The pacifier must have fallen out of his mouth because Bruce no longer heard the repetitive sound of Tim sucking on it.
Jason and Dick were awake. Jason was awake, and alive, and here. It was hard to focus on Tim when Jason was right there. Bruce’s little boy, although he had grown massively. He’d always been so small, a product of living on the streets and in poverty. He’d been so proud of every growth spurt, dragging Bruce to his door to mark his height on the frame. The chart was still there.
It had been a Lazarus Pit that brought Jason back. He hadn’t said anything but it was obvious the longer he spent in the manor. The glowing green eyes were a dead giveaway, especially considering Bruce knew they used to be blue. Jason was so much angrier now. Bruce was pretty sure the only reason he hadn’t snapped and started throwing things was because of Tim. He’d always been very vocal about his beliefs, it was one of the things Bruce loved about him. Bruce wondered if Talia had been involved, or if it had been Ra’s. He hadn’t thought about Talia in years now.
Tim shifted in his sleep. Bruce had accepted the boy as his son, but he hadn’t known Tim felt the same. The man had always kept his distance. First as a defense mechanism, then purposefully. Tim had parents, he had people to go home to. Bruce couldn’t stand to lose another son, even if just to plain old distance. Tim would grow up, grow out of Robin, just like Dick had. (Jason never got to grow up). Well, it turned out Bruce was wrong on all accounts. Tim didn’t have loving parents waiting for him at home. Bruce had kept his distance but the boy saw him as a father anyway. And Tim would grow up, yes, but there was a part of him that wouldn’t. Timmy, the others called him, who loved playing with trains and feared his family leaving him. Timmy had referred to Bruce as his dad. Bruce was going to do his best not to fuck it up.
He had never had a young kid like he once dreamed of. When he was younger, Bruce had the classic ideals of having a wife and kids, of holding an infant and chasing a toddler. He knew now he would never have that. He didn’t want it anymore, his life was better this way. Dick had been the youngest when Bruce first took him, he was only nine, old enough to do a lot for himself. He didn’t need Bruce the same way a young child would. And that worked out great for both of them. Bruce had been young and inundated with work, and Dick was grieving his parents. So Bruce tucked him in some nights but not all, and he only read him stories when he was sick. Could Bruce really handle a Little? A toddler one?
Bruce didn’t kid himself. When Tim came up out of littlespace he might want nothing to do with any of them anymore. But, he’d stuck around so far. When Bruce was angry and harsh and grieving, Tim kept coming back until Bruce couldn’t deny his presence in his life. It was wrong of him to push him away so hard for so long. It seemed like the only love Tim had ever received was at a distance. Bruce was determined to fix that. He was a Dom, not a Caregiver, but he could learn. He would research, hell, he’d attend classes if he had to. If Tim wanted him.
Bruce turned and shifted in the bed, signalling to his older boys that he was awake. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of a sleeping Tim. Bruce hadn’t really paid attention to what he’d been wearing the night before, but he could see now it was a one-piece pair of pajamas, a soft yellow. Tim had his bunny toy clutched to his chest. The pacifier had indeed fallen out and was laying on the pillow. Children slept in longer than adults, right? Or was it the other way around?
“Morning, B,” Dick whispered.
“Good morning, boys.” There were a few beats of awkward silence that no one wanted to break. Luckily, Alfred chose that moment to silently crack the bedroom door open.
“Ah, I see you three are awake. Breakfast will be ready shortly. I recommend waking Young Master Tim, otherwise he will likely not be tired for his nap.” With that, Alfred shut the door and left. Alfred was always professional, but Bruce had seen the soft smile when he opened the door.
Jason slid out of the bed but didn’t leave yet. Dick gently shook Tim awake with a hand on his shoulder. Tim stirred and pulled away from the offending hand with a whine, which made Bruce’s older boys chuckle. Dick picked the Little up and sat him on the edge of the bed before unzipping the front of his pajamas to check his pull-up. The boys must have put a pull-up on him after having an accident, which Bruce’s bed was grateful for. Dick picked Tim back up.
“You’re still clean, baby. And your fever is way down. C’mon, it’s time to wake up and go get some breakfast, I bet Alfie’s making something good.”
“...mmnooo,” Tim whined. “It’s bedtime.”
“It’s really not, Timmy. Up, up, baby.”
Tim finally lifted his head from where he had rested it on Dick’s shoulder. He grinned when he saw Bruce, and beamed when he turned and saw Jason.
“Jay! Jay!” Timmy reached out, wiggling out of Dick’s arms. The man passed him over before he could fall. Jason held him carefully.
“Looks like I’m the favorite today, huh? Let’s go get some breakfast, little dude.”
[{(o)}]
Timmy was definitely a lot younger than the morning before. Jason had once again carried him to breakfast, but this time Timmy didn’t bother reaching for his fork, instead shoving a fist of blueberries in his mouth. It was a far cry from the polite and clean Little Jason had taken care of in his safehouse.
“You like blueberries, dude?”
“Yeah, so much!” Timmy squished a single berry in between his fingers before eating it. He was probably going to need another bath soon.
Breakfast was a variety of different foods. Jason had served Timmy a bit of everything before Alfie went to do the same thing. There were scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, toast, and of course, blueberries.
“What do you want to do today, baby bird?”
“Trains! Blocks! Bunny can come play today too.” Bunny was sitting down at the end of the table where he couldn’t get dirty. Timmy had insisted on bringing the aptly named stuffy to breakfast.
“I think we should play outside. Get you some sun.”
“Outside! B, you wanna play outside with me?” So Bruce was back to B instead of daddy. Timmy’s words were a lot more slurred than the days before. He had asked B if he wanted to “p’ay ou’side”.
“Sure, Tim.”
There wasn’t much conversation as everyone ate, but the silence was comfortable. Tim made a mess but so did Dick. Sure, Timmy technically made a bigger one but Dick was a grown man who didn’t have an excuse.
The kid, toddler actually, was a lot less burdened than the days previous. Jason hadn’t realized it at the time but there had been something weighing the toddler down, something greater than they’d thought. He knew Timmy had been resisting dropping all the way, but there had to have been more. Timmy had flipped the fuck out when he’d had an accident. With how domestic these days at the manor had been, it was easy to forget Timmy had been seriously abused. Jason doubted it stopped with the neglect, not with the way Timmy had reacted to the accident and bath. How much of the politeness was Timmy and how much was defense? Timmy had been calm and nonargumentative, did he truly feel safe? It was easy to rethink everything. The guilt piled up, first Jason did a shitty job caring for him alone and then the Little couldn’t relax fully at the manor either. At least Timmy was fully dropped now if the blueberry dripping out of his mouth said anything.
Dick wiped Timmy’s face and hands off. He’d gotten fruit on his yellow pajamas too so someone was going to have to change him before anything else. Dick seemed happy to volunteer, tugging off the pjs at the table.
“Let’s get you in some clean clothes so you can play outside. Your pull-up’s still dry so let’s go potty too.”
“Pull-up?” Timmy seemed to realize for the first time what he was wearing. “No! No! I don’ need a diaper, I’m not a baby!”
“It’s not a diaper, ba– buddy. It’s a pull-up, they’re for big kids. You can still go potty on your own, the pull-up is just in case.”
“I– I’m not gonna have an accident. I promise.”
“I know, bud. It’s just in case. We wouldn’t be mad if you did, it’s normal for a Little like you,” Dick said gently. Timmy’s eyes were teary and he looked ready to argue. He held his tongue though, which was worrying. Fucking Drakes. “C’mon, let’s go pick a new outfit. Does Bunny want to come too?”
“Yeah. And Jay?”
“Sure, little dude. Dick can carry you and I’ll carry Bunny.” Jason grabbed the toy and followed his brothers out of the dining room. He was privately pleased to have been requested by the Little.
Turns out Dick had only bought pajamas, no real clothes. To be fair, Jason had only bought the kid one pair himself. Timmy could play outside in pajamas, he’d be fine. Dick herded him to the bathroom, going in with him, presumably to help with the pull-up. Jason got comfortable on the bed while he waited.
The Pit rage was better than it had been in ages, since Jason truly woke up, really. Patrol had helped, sure, but so had whatever the fuck all this was. Being in the manor, taking the time to play and eat and read. Jason thought he’d been fighting the Pit, but maybe he hadn’t. He might be alive, but had he been truly living? Doing something other than waking up and planning and punching? He’d been stuck. Stuck in a trend of hatred and rebellion. Jason wasn’t even as mad at Bruce as he had been. Don’t get him wrong, he was still fucking pissed, but somehow B had become more of a concept than a person in his head. Being in the manor forced him to look at the man who’d been a father to him. Jason was going to leave as soon as Timmy was big again, but perhaps he could come by again. Play with Timmy, spend time with Dick and Alfie, torment Bruce. Jason was pretty sure his presence was torment already for the man, and ignored how that made him feel.
“Alright, bud, let’s pick out some jammies.” Dick and Timmy came out of the bathroom.
“I want dinos.”
“Actually I think Alfie put them in here, let’s see.” Dick rifled through a dresser drawer. “Ah! Here they are, baby bird. Dino jammies.”
“My dinos!” Timmy cheered, much to Jason’s joy. The pajamas he’d bought were his favorite, take that. The yellow outfit looked the same as before, just less sweaty and gross. Dick helped Timmy put it on. The toddler was lacking a lot of the coordination he’d shown before. B had said something about fine motor skills, hadn’t he? Were those different? Jason would have to do his own research. Timmy reached for Bunny and Jason passed it over.
“Why don’t we go find B and you two can go play outside?”
“Not you and Jay?” Timmy asked, echoing Jason’s thought.
“Jay and I will join you in a little while, only like ten minutes, tops.” Dick said this as he was heading out of the room, Timmy being held with one arm. Those Bat muscles came in clutch. Jason followed, confused.
B was in his study, looking at his computer. He looked up when they entered and took off his reading glasses. Haha, old. B gave a little smile when he saw Timmy. The kid could get a smile out of anybody.
“You’re up, Bruce. Go play outside with Timmy. Jason and I will catch up in a minute.” Dick grabbed Jason’s sleeve and tugged before B could respond, dragging him down the hall.
“The fuck?”
“Sorry, I just needed to get away for a sec, B can watch him. I realized this morning the two of us haven’t caught up. Like, just the two of us. I want to know what my little brother’s been up to and boy do I have some funny stories from work. And secret work, you won’t believe what Wally did last week.”
[{(o)}]
It was nice to catch up with Jason, even if it was mostly Dick telling stories about his own life. Jason dutifully listened though about random bullshit back at the precinct and a comical supervillain the Teen Titans faced, not that any of them were teens or worked together much anymore.
Jason was just so big. Dick had to look up at his little brother now. His features were more defined and there was definitely stubble coming in. Dick would have to lend him a razor if he stayed any longer. He hoped he did. Aging was something that was gradual, something you didn’t notice unless you looked back at old pictures, but last time Dick saw Jason the boy had been fifteen and scrawny, even with his muscles from being Robin. He was hitting growth spurts that left him kind of clumsy and gangly. Jason was (no, is) brash with a wry sense of humor and many opinions about classic literature, but he was also the best Bat at comforting children, especially street kids. And now he was cleaning up the Alley, even if he was a bit, um, murderous.
Dick kept talking as they made their way through the winding halls and outside through the door. The backyard was technically fenced but it was so large you couldn’t see it. Bruce was standing on the patio with a tennis ball, Timmy beside him. They were both facing the grass. Pulling his arm back, Bruce flung the ball into the yard and Timmy bounded after it. The toddler’s steps were wobblier than the ones of the teen who jumped between rooftops.
“What, uh, what are you guys playing?”
“Fetch.”
“What…the fuck?” Dick asked incredulously. Jason started cackling to the point he was bent over, wheezing. “Bruce, B. He’s a Little, not a dog.”
“I know? Tim appears to like chasing the ball though, I didn’t know what other activity to do.”
Jason was still laughing uproariously. Dick and Bruce spared a moment to share a soft smile, they hadn’t heard Jason laugh like that in a long time.
“Jay! Dick! Look, I got the ball!”
“Good job, bud,” Jason coughed, catching his breath. “You having fun?”
“Yeah!” At least Timmy had the tennis ball in his hand rather than his mouth? Dick had never thought of fetch in the context of a kid, but if Timmy was having fun…?
“You wanna keep playing fetch or something else, little dude? Let’s see, we could play tag, or soccer, I think my old ball is in the shed, or we could play pretend or something.”
“Pretend?”
“Yeah, we pretend to be something else and play. Like with the boat or when we built Metropolis.”
“We can pretend to be criminals? And the police?”
“I mean, yeah, bud.”
“Or,” Dick butt in, “we could pretend to be dinosaurs, or bunnies.” Or anything less violent and sensitive right now. Speaking of, Bunny was sat on one of the patio tables, watching.
“Dinosaur criminals.”
“Y’know what? Sure, baby. We can be dinosaur criminals.”
[{(o)}]
They let Timmy take control of the game out of humility and curiosity. The Little had no problem assigning everyone roles, although throughout the entire game he kept looking to them for approval, which they were happy to provide.
Jason got stuck with Bruce as they were both assigned as cops. Literally could not be further from the truth, why hadn’t Dickhead been chosen to be a cop? Jason was an actual crime lord and Bruce was a vigilante furry who worked outside the police (most of the time). Not that the police actually did much in Gotham. Dick and Timmy were criminals. Dinosaur criminals to be exact. It wasn’t entirely clear if the cops were dinosaurs too.
Timmy was at the bottom of a big oak tree, clumsily miming lockpicking. Dick was keeping watch. Jason had separated from B almost immediately and they were “secretly” watching from opposite sides. There weren’t exactly many hiding spots in the open lawn, and they didn’t want to startle the Little either. It was a game.
“Click, click, click. I got it! Now we can steal stuff!” Timmy exclaimed loudly. Jason chose this moment to mimic a police siren, and Dick’s mild grin turned to faux surprise.
“Oh no, it’s the cops! Scram!” Dick ran one way and Timmy ran the other. Timmy might’ve been a bit wobbly, but he was still teen sized and managed to run pretty fast. Jason still slowed down a bit to prolong the chase.
“You’re under arrest, criminal scum. Surrender!”
“No! Rawr!” Timmy mimed biting.
“Oh no! A dinosaur criminal.”
Across the lawn, Dick was fucking booking it. It might’ve been a game but Bruce was not playing around. There were no rooftops, no alleyways. It was open ground. Dick was slimmer, quicker, and nimbler, but Bruce, well, Bruce was fucking Batman. Jason got the feeling Dick let himself be tackled to the ground. Only someone trained would know it was done gently, letting Dick fall in a way that wouldn’t hurt him.
Jason continued to chase Timmy. He had quite a bit of endurance, this was light work, even in the sun. It was hot but breezy out. Jason let himself catch up, growling in warning before picking the Little up from behind. The only response was pealing laughter.
“I’ve got you. You’re going to prison for a long, long time, buddy.” Jason grinned. Timmy made biting motions but couldn’t actually reach any part of Jason with the way he was held. “That’s right. You’re going to dinosaur prison.” Timmy giggled.
The four reconvened by the big oak tree. Jason used to love climbing it, although only when Alfred wasn’t home. He would always know. Alfred knew everything. Jason had adjusted his hold and now Timmy was cradled comfortably to his chest. Bruce was carrying Dick too, but Jason had the feeling the piggy back ride was against his will.
“Well, you two are in dinosaur prison now. Good work, Officer Bruce,” Jason teased. Bruce frowned at the name. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. You go ahead and go back on patrol, I’ll stay here and watch these criminals.” Bruce looked a bit confused but played along. He started walking elsewhere in the yard, stealing half glances at the tree. “Whoo! Catching criminals is hard work. I’m going to take a nap, you two just stay right there. Don’t escape.” Jason lowered himself onto the soft grass and laid down. He began to obnoxiously snore. Timmy giggled.
“Baby bird,” Dick stage whispered, “we should escape from jail.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’m going to count down from three, then we’ll run in opposite directions, got it?” Dick asked. Timmy must have nodded. “One, two…three!” The two booked it away from the tree.
“Hey!” Jason called. “Get back here!”
“No.”
Jason went after Dick this time while Bruce chased after Timmy. He was a little worried Bruce would be too rough, but he was dutifully running a few feet behind Tim, never quite catching up. Jason focused his attention on Dick instead. He was not about to go easy on him. He ran as fast as he could but still didn’t quite catch up, so he switched tactics, herding Dick towards Bruce. A quick glance at B was enough to share his plan and get confirmation. When Dick got close enough, B switched gears and completely blindsided him, tackling him to the ground once more. Jason grabbed for Timmy, holding the Little up like a trophy.
“You have to read my manda rights, Jay,” Timmy said between giggles.
“Your…? Oh, Miranda rights, got it. You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a dinosaur court of law.”
Dick snorted from where he was pinned. Bruce continued from where Jason left off.
“You have the right to a lawyer. If—”
“Dinosaur lawyer, daddy.”
“...Right, of course.” Bruce stopped to clear his throat. “If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided to you.”
“Dickie, can we afford a lawyer?”
“We sure can, baby bird. I stole a lot of money.”
“You have the right to remain silent, dick.” It was the one ‘bad word’ Jason could use in front of Tim. Based on Dick’s face, he heard the lowercase ‘d’.
They had ended up closer to the manor, so it didn’t escape notice when Alfred opened the back door.
“It will be time for lunch in a few minutes. I suggest you all clean up before heading to the dining room,” Alfred said with a raised brow. Jason looked down. There was grass up and down his side from laying in the yard. Bruce and Dick were also covered from their time on the ground, Dick more than Bruce since he was the one that’d been tackled. Timmy was the cleanest of all of them. If Alfred were any less professional he would have sighed aloud.
“We will, Alfred.” Bruce stood up, freeing Dick. Jason shifted Timmy into a more comfortable hold and followed Alfred inside.
The closest bathroom to the back door was the designated cleaning-off room. It had seen mud, blood, and too many rocks. Jason had Timmy use the toilet while he stood in the dry shower and brushed the grass off his clothes. He’d been scolded too many times to do it on the tile. Jason made sure Timmy washed his hands before they relinquished the room to Dick and B. He carried the Little into the dining room where lunch was already set up. The meal was mini sandwiches and fruit salad.
Timmy didn’t seem to have any desire to let go of Jason, so they both sat down in the same spot where Jason proceeded to make up two plates. Dick and Bruce soon followed. The small sandwiches were a good size for Timmy and the Little was very happy about the fruit.
“You like fruit a lot, huh?”
“Yeah! I can’t have fruit at home, it gets yucky too quick.”
Ah, what the fuck. Jason was having such a nice time and now he wants to commit murder again. Not that he ever stopped wanting to kill the elder Drakes, it was just passively. Now it was aggressive.
“I’m sorry to hear that, baby bird. There’s always fresh fruit here and you’re welcome to it. I’m sure Alfie will be happy to get you a snack whenever you want.”
“What about when I go to my house?” Timmy must not have realized they weren’t letting him go anywhere. He was a Wayne now whether he liked it or not, and he sure seemed to like it.
“That doesn’t matter. Alfie will still get you a snack whenever you ask, and so will we.”
“Okay.” Timmy kept eating. After a moment, Jason did too.
[{(o)}]
Dick didn’t want to tell Timmy he couldn’t suck on his fingers, not when he was finally comfortable enough to do it openly, but. But. Who knew how many germs could be on his hands? Dick vaguely remembered some of the research he’d done when he first presented, plus the bit he’d managed to do these past few days. With a young child, redirection is more helpful than telling them what not to do, not when they’re too young to process why they can’t do something. Dick didn’t even know that Timmy was three, he seemed closer to two. Was he biased since this was his first time seeing him in littlespace?
“Baby bird, you ready for a nap?”
“No.”
“I don’t know, bub, you look pretty tired.” He did. Timmy kept rubbing at his eyes with the hand that wasn’t in his mouth. “Why don’t we just lay down for a little while and have some cuddle time?”
“With Bunny and Jay? Bunny!” Without any warning, Timmy burst into tears. “He’s, he’s outside. We forgot him!”
“Hey, baby, buddy, it’s okay. See look, Jason’s getting him right now,” Dick soothed, hurrying to the other side of the table. Jason was already gone, he’d booked it the second Timmy was done talking. Timmy continued to cry. His head was thrown back and fat tears rolling down his cheeks, but his body language was closed whereas most toddlers would be looking for affection when upset. Dick reached out to hold him anyway.
“He’s by, he’s by himself,” Timmy hiccuped, stumbling on the words. His body relaxed once Dick had him cradled close, reacting to the Caregiver pheromones. His eyes drooped.
“I know, I know. But I’m sure he’s— look! There he is!” Dick took the plush from Jason and set it in Timmy’s reaching hand. “He’s okay, you’re okay.” Timmy hugged the stuffed animal to his face. The tears slowed.
“He’s not mad at me?”
“No, Bunny is not mad. It was an accident, and in this house we are not mad about accidents.” Dick was gentle but his tone left no room for argument. Timmy was almost fully lax now. He was clearly exhausted. “Let’s go get comfy in bed, hm? Do you want to lay in my bed?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“We can lay in your bed, then.”
Timmy was losing the battle with sleep and didn’t respond. His fingers were back in his mouth. Jason followed them out of the dining room without hesitation, Bruce staying behind after much hesitation. Dick led them to Timmy’s room and into the bathroom. The baby bird was teary enough, Dick did not want to risk an accident. He ended up having to pull Timmy’s pants down and sit him on the toilet, poor thing was so out of it. He’d get used to a Caregiver eventually. When they came out, Jason was already on the bed, pacifier in hand.
Dick settled both himself and Timmy in the bed. The Little’s eyes were already closed and he shifted to feel the men laying with him. Seemingly satisfied, he slumped even further. Jason slid the pacifier into his mouth.
Jason took a deep breath and Dick followed suit. The room was silent except for the repetitive suckling noise from the pacifier and their breathing. Dick was so tired. How? He’d pulled multiple all-nighters that would make a college student wince to run across the rooftops and bust drug rings. How was a morning of mild chasing in the yard this exhausting? Fuck, Dick needed a nap too.
[{(o)}]
After naptime was playtime. Jason was kind of sick of blocks by now, but Timmy was happy and that was worth the boredom and the unsatisfied itchiness. Jason would have to go on patrol soon, but it was technically Dick’s turn this next night. Jason would stay with Timmy. Bruce technically could, but the city never slept and neither did Batman, Bruce could never be convinced to stay back. And Alfred already did so much.
Dick and Timmy were playing with the blocks on the floor, building a house. Or a train station. Or a train station house. Jason couldn’t really tell. Timmy seemed to delight in the sound the blocks made when they clacked together, much more energetic after his nap. Bunny was sat in his lap.
Bruce was on the couch reading an honest to god newspaper. Fucking boomer. Jason couldn’t see what article he was on from his spot on the floor, but it was probably something dumb like sales on fur suits. Ha, gottem. Bat furry motherfucker.
Jason had a book and was taking advantage of uninterrupted time to read. It was the Portrait of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. The queer undertones were pretty amusing, mostly because they were barely undertones, instead overt lines between two men discussing another man. Dorian Gray could kiss Jason’s ass though. Fucker didn’t realize getting to grow old was a privilege, not to mention the other shit he got up to. If Jason was still in school, he would be balls deep in a hateful essay. That was kind of the point of the character though, so Jason didn’t feel too bad throwing shade on the guy. Oscar Wilde was one of his favorites.
A clatter sounded as blocks tumbled to the floor, then giggles permeated the room. Timmy picked up two blocks and banged them together joyously before catching himself and putting them down. Maybe Jason could take this time to plan some murders, that sounded fun.
When Dick got sick of the blocks he found another Pixar movie, this one about cars. Jason couldn’t remember the name. Timmy liked it, eyes glued to the screen from where he sat on the floor. Eventually the Little ended up on the couch with B. The two were awkwardly cuddled together, B trying not to move too much and Timmy seeking out the touch subconsciously. Jason almost put B ot of his misery but didn’t because, y’know, fuck that guy.
By the time the movie was over it was time for dinner. Jason didn’t have to cut up Timmy’s chicken because Alfie did it before they even sat down, along with having set out a chunkier fork and sippy cup. Dick talked about work. Bruce attempted to talk about work but was unanimously shut down. Bo-ring. Jason’s own job was a subject of contention so he didn’t bother to contribute. One son was a cop, the other was a crime lord. It was kind of funny.
Timmy rambled on about pictures and skateboards and computers. He was a bit hard to understand now that he was a toddler rather than a kid, but he seemed happy when Jason nodded along.
Dinner was cleared, dessert came out. Timmy was ecstatic about the cobbler and honestly Jason was too. Alfred made some damn good apple crisp. The conversation, now mostly just Timmy blabbering away, had wound down.
“I’ll be on Timmy duty tonight, if that’s alright with you, little dude.”
“Yeah. We can go to sleep.”
“Tired, hm? I don’t think you need another bath tonight so let’s go brush your teeth and use the bathroom.”
Once again, it was just Jason and Timmy, but it couldn’t have felt more different, even with the dinosaur pajamas and sleepy dependency Timmy seemed to display, just as he had before. Instead of leaving him to do his night routine on his own, Jason went into the bathroom with the Little, brushing his own teeth in the process. Timmy wasn’t all that tired, turns out. He had no problem yapping Jason’s ear off as he checked the (clean) pull-up, switching it out for a new one simply because enough time had passed. Timmy barely protested. He looked up at Jason the same way he had back in Titans Tower. Awe. Jason still didn’t let himself believe it.
There was no hesitation as Jason climbed into the bed besides his little brother. He wasn’t denying the connection now. B might not be his dad but this was his brother, like it or not, come hell or high water, green goo or clowns. Actually, Jason’s determination to slaughter the Joker was increased, which he hadn’t thought possible. The shitty-ass clown bitch-motherfucker wasn’t coming near Jason’s little brother. He’d ensure it. Preferably with fire.
Timmy had been carrying around Bunny since his nap, so Jason didn’t have to locate the toy for bedtime. The pacifier was still in the bed. Dick had bought a couple but this one was the one Jason had picked. Teal. It brought out the blue of Timmy’s eyes. His hair was fluffy in a way that actually reminded Jason of a baby bird. The Little accepted the pacifier after a moment of deliberation, during which his brows were scrunched adorably.
Jason could tell the toddler was tired now, but not enough for bed.
“You want a bedtime story, bud?”
“Yeah!”
Jason didn’t have a book with him and didn’t want to leave Timmy alone to go get one. It was improv time.
“Once upon a time, in a hole in the ground there lived Elizabeth Bennet.”
“That’s not how it goes!”
“It is when I tell it,” Jason said, like he hadn’t created an amalgamation of a fairytale, the Hobbit, and Pride and Prejudice. He continued on with the story of how Princess Lizzie ruled the land of dinosaurs and birds. It was stupid, but Timmy liked it if his smile was any indication. Jason kept talking until Timmy was fast asleep. The Little had one arm flung over Jason’s chest and the other was holding Bunny. “Goodnight, bud.”
Jason rested his head deeper into the pillow. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep too.
[{(o)}]
Tim felt good when he woke up. It was immediately concerning. He shifted in the bed but he was partially trapped under the blankets and there was someone next to him. What? What had happened? Memories came crawling back into Tim’s sleepy brain like Poison Ivy’s vines. Fuck, they found out. And, they took care of him. The Waynes didn’t kick him out or hit him or leave. Maybe they would now that he was big again? The part of Tim’s brain that was smaller, littler, than the rest disagreed.
It was Jason in the bed beside him. Jason was alive. He was angry and caring and alive. And he bought Timmy pajamas and toys, took his word when he spoke, believed him when he said he didn’t want his parents called. Tim’s Robin was alive. There was no more need for his old fantasies of Robin breaking down his door and rescuing him from everything he knew. Jason had saved him (for now at least).
Tim remembered being cared for. He remembered playing in the bathtub, and running outside, and cuddles, and love. Even if it was temporary, even if Tim was unlovable and everyone left eventually, for a moment there had been love. Tim hadn’t been a hundred percent sure he knew what it felt like. His eyes watered. He made a small noise before he could stop himself.
Dick had played trains with him. Alfred let him sit on his lap while he worked. Bruce was present and smiling and Timmy chased a ball with him. Jason had taken him to his safehouse and cared for him all by himself, and part of Tim knew his kidnapping hadn’t been solely revenge against Batman.
Tim’s head didn’t hurt. His lungs didn’t feel like they were trying to escape his body like they did when he went too long without dropping. He was warm. The blanket was soft. The bunny, Bunny, was pressed against his face and the teal pacifier was on the pillow. Everything was okay. It was fucking scary that it was, because Tim hadn’t been okay in a long time, but he allowed himself some hope.
“Timmy? You good?” Fuck, Jason had woken up. His voice was low and raspy with sleep.
“I’m big.” Tim had to let him know who he was dealing with. He wasn’t some pitiful, neglected child right now. He was fourteen and didn’t need any sort of coddling, hadn’t in a long time.
“Okay.” There was a pause. “We can have a conversation about this now, B and Dick are probably heading back if they haven’t already. But it’s also two o’clock in the fucking morning and I vote we go back to sleep and have a feelings talk in the morning. The much later morning. That cool?”
“Yeah, it’s cool,” Tim responded tentatively.
“Great. Do you want me outta your bed?”
“No! I mean, no. You can stay, if you want.”
“Okay, little dude, see you in the morning. Sweet dreams and shit.”
And with that, Jason set his head back down and went to sleep, like nothing monumental had happened in the past week. Like Tim was someone worth sleeping next to, not just Timmy. Despite himself, Tim found himself settling deeper under the covers. He didn’t move Bunny, who was so soft against his face it was unreal. Jason’s breathing was deep both in pitch and measure. Tim could run. He could run back to Drake Manor, to empty halls that echoed when he cried. It would be so easy. But, he didn’t.
In the morning there would be tears (Dick), shouting (Jason), and so many legal papers (Bruce). But right now there was only the bed, and the blankets, and a feeling of contentment Tim wasn’t used to but he desperately wanted to be.
Tim closed his eyes and fell asleep.