Chapter Text
I've been looking
I've been looking for love, love
Looking for Love
By Birdtalker
The process of waking up from the groggy haze of medication washed over Tim with a new kind of ache. The disorientation was always the worst part as he struggled to identify his current location; there had been times in the past when his first thoughts were that he was not in his childhood bedroom when he had ought to be, only for the abrupt realization that he hadn’t lived in that room for six years to hit uncomfortably bitter.
He groaned, the noise painful in his slightly raw throat as he rolled over, the smooth silk blend of the sheets cool against his heated skin. Peppermint seeped into his senses-one of Alfred’s warm reminders- and he reluctantly began to open his eyes, surrounded by the contents of his room at the Manor.
Cass was watching him from the usually empty side of the bed, the relaxed fit of her lounge wear dismissing the idea she was there for anything urgent.
“Mornin’, Cass,” Tim exhaled into his pillow.
Cass smiled carefully, reaching out to drag a hand across his messy hair. “Hello, Tim. Feeling better?”
“Don’t ask complicated questions.”
“Not complicated. Not for you,” She gave him a gentle poke between his eyes, pressing against the furrowed crinkle in his brow. “Too smart.”
“I don’t feel smart, I feel stupid,” Tim huffed, rubbing furiously at his eyes. “How did I get here? I was…Did Jason bring me here?”
“No. Dick. Jason give you over.”
Throwing the duvet over his head, Tim released a slew of self-condemning opinions half articulated into his pillow. Cass’ gentle hands sifted into the fabric and tugged it back, peering down at him, a little crease of concern pooling around her mouth.
“Stephanie is unhappy.”
“What?”
She nodded solemnly, “Fought with Jason.”
An undistinguished gargle of protest escaped Tim as he sat up. “Last night? What were they fighting about?”
“Stephanie does not trust,” Cass shrugged. “Thinks Jason is…kind with bad purpose. Worried about you.”
“It’s not like that,” Tim promised. “I’ll talk to her. He isn’t…I can’t really explain, but trust me, there is nothing bad going on.”
“I think different.”
Tim stiffened, her dark eyes searching his face. “You think different about what?”
Reaching to the side table, Cass handed Tim the stack of photos from the diner, the picture on top a clear shot of Jason staring in profile, a gentle and unassuming smile of his face, some white fringe partially obscuring the pretty teal of one of his eyes. “I think you feel secret.”
“Cass-“
“You tell me,” Cass told him firmly.
“I…”
“You feel for him different than us.”
“Jason and I have a lot of history, it’s difficult to explain.”
“You say difficult,” Cass frowned at him. “Yes or no, not difficult.”
“I can’t answer your question with yes or no.”
“You don’t want to, because you want, yes?” She asked tentatively. “Want Jason.”
“…I like him, Cass,” Tim sighed, falling haplessly back into his pillows. “I mean, I probably always had a bit of a crush on him, he was the Robin I idolized most. But I…god, Cass, what am I supposed to do?”
“Talk with Stephanie,” Cass suggested, laying down beside him.
“No,” Tim snapped, “I can’t tell her, she wouldn’t understand.”
“Talk with Jason.”
He snorted at the idea, talking with Jason about is misplaced feelings was the last thing he wanted to do. “Not an option.”
Cass flicked him a worried look, “Ashamed?”
“No! I’m not. I would not do Jason the disservice,” Time swore, “But we’re friends, it’s still…too fragile. I don’t want to scare him off when he’s only just agreed to be my friend. I don’t want to do that to him, it isn’t fair.”
“You keep big secret now. Why add excess burden?”
“Because… It’s better than losing him.”
“Time,” Cass nodded, patting Tim’s head tenderly, “Then, try.”
“Maybe,” Tim agreed, giving her a careful smile.
Cass continued to play with his hair quietly, watching for the signs of stress to leave his face. “Feeling better?” She asked Tim, who nodded against her ministrations. “Good. Bruce want you today. Office.”
“Okay. Thanks, Cass. I’ll check in with him.”
Cass nodded, rolling out of the bed and tossing Tim a hoodie from his floor.
“Thank you,” Tim mumbled, pulling it over his head, before pulling her into a tight hug. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Cass echoed back, handing Tim the photos. “When small brother is not happy, I feel not happy.”
Tim slipped the pictures into the large front pocket of the sweatshirt, and walked side by side with Cass out of his room. They parted ways at the library; she slipped through the door with her usual air of mystery and Tim continued on to Bruce’s personal office, which he kept strictly relegated to Bruce Wayne purposes.
It was littered with purely Wayne related items: a picture of his parents, and his cobbled together family, knickknacks and treasures once harbored by his mother and father, as well as a mess of Wayne Enterprise business that Bruce took the time to dabble in. It helped to maintain the Bruce Wayne CEO image he had cultivated over the years to delegate as much work as he could, but he still maintained hold on several of his passion projects, the genuine interest in bettering Gotham for the limelight as well as the shadows evident in the spread of documents across the antique oak desk.
“Hey Bruce,” Tim greeted, sticking his head through the door.
Bruce lifted his head at the intrusion, grinning widely. “Tim! Hello, come in, come in. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Tim said, sitting in the thick leather chair across from him.
“Did you have a good time last night? I was a little worried, Dick brought you here, he said you had fallen asleep and thought this was the best place for you.”
“It was a long day,” Tim shrugged. “I’m fine.”
“That’s good,” Bruce shifted in his seat, resting his arms against the wood, “I’m actually glad you’re here, there’s something I wanted to pick your brain about.”
“Of course, whatever you need.”
“Barbara’s told me you and Jason have been spending a little bit of time together.”
“I-“ Tim faltered, the question forcing him off his center. ”I…yes, I guess. We’ve had a couple of cases that have lined up.”
Bruce nodded knowingly, “But you’ve been getting along?”
“Yes, yes, I think so. He’s been very professional. I haven’t had any issues.”
“He’s been friendly?” Bruce asked more seriously.
Tim observed Bruce’s’ light manner shifting into a more earnest inquiry and the muscles of his legs began to tense against the firm cushion of his chair, “What is this about?”
“Well, your birthday Dinner is Sunday, and I thought, perhaps if he were coming, and he had been friendly, then it might be safe to ask if he would be interested to have a birthday dinner of his own. It’s next month and-“
“I know when his birthday is.”
“Oh, yes of course,” Bruce nodded slightly, pressing on, “I just wondered if it would be received well, based on your recent experiences with him.”
“I couldn’t really say,” Tim said slowly, “ It could be a big thing to ask, that’s kind of a personal offer when Jason is already pretty reserved about the time he is willing to spend here, especially under the guise of.. family matters.”
The plush leather chair creaked as Bruce leaned back, listening carefully to Tim’s worries. “I don’t want to push too hard. I am aware of how tenuous the relationships are now, but I don’t think I can express how happy I am to see this family on the mend. All my children getting along about as well as could be expected. And to see how overjoyed Alfred is with the progress, I hadn't thought it possible until recently, that it might be possible for those old wounds to heal.”
“I know he missed Jason very much,” Tim agreed, “I know you have too, Bruce. And I’m sure Jason knows that, but don’t try to figure him out all at once. I know you want to. It’s what you do. But I honestly think the only thing Jason really needs is time.”
Bruce nodded more agreeably this time, eyeing Tim proudly. “You’re a good man, Tim. And your Brothers are lucky to have you.”
“I only have one brother,” Tim corrected firmly.
“Tim-“
“Just because we are your sons- that does not make us brothers. Dick is my brother. And maybe someday Damian will want to be my brother too. But Jason is not-- Jason is not the only person who requires time, Bruce, you can’t make us be anything we don’t want to be.”
“I’m sorry Tim, I didn’t mean to imply…I know you are probably are having a harder time with this adjustment than any of us. I just thought that you and Jason were alright. Moving forward.”
“We are. Jason and I are fine, we’re friends. That’s good enough.”
“Of course, there’s no obligation for anything else.”
The tense feeling in Tim’s legs began to grow again as Bruce continued to watch him. “…Was that all?”
“No, there was something else.”
Tim nodded slowly.
“How are you faring at the penthouse?”
“Things have been fine. I haven’t had any problems.”
“Then your present should be well received.” Bruce handed over a manila folder, leaning back his chair again to watch Tim scan through the contents. “It’s just a few properties to start, you can call the realtor whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Tim said quietly, looking over the list of potential housing options. “Bruce, this means a lot.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Bruce replied, the fatherly crinkle growing in the corner of his eyes. “There is one other gift though, in the Cave.”
Tim perked up, setting the file back onto the desk “Oh?”
“Thought you could try it out tonight,” Bruce offered cryptically, waving his right hand towards the office door.
A smile slowly spread across Tim’s face, and he pushed away from the desk, hurrying to the Cave’s concealed entrance. He took the stairs several at a time, scanning each corner for the possible gift as he descended. When nothing out of the ordinary stood out in the main hub, he headed towards the garage, walking quickly down the rows of vehicles, his eyes darting back and forth between them.
He skidded to a halt at the end, a modified version of his Red Bird polished and gleaming in the overhead lights. The body was longer and sleeker, the previous almost-entirely red paint job was now based in black, with dark red arches stretching down the length, complete with matching cherry hubcaps. The control panel was packed with an assortment of new buttons, a compact computer screen snug in the center.
“Do you like it?” Bruce asked, appearing behind him.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“I had Lucius develop some new software for the bike. I’ve already sent the manual to your computer.”
“Thank you, for both my presents. I really love them.”
“I’m glad. Happy birthday, Son.” Bruce gave him a firm clap on the shoulder, retreating to leave Tim alone with his shiny new toy.
Now alone, Tim straddled the bike, shifting back and forth to familiarize himself with the altered shape until he was comfortable. With a firm press on the starter button, it engaged, the machine letting out a quiet hum in the otherwise silent garage, the engine reverberated softly under him as he skimmed through the settings. He smiled appreciatively, turning it off again and leaning it back on the kickstand, taking a step back to take a few photos. He attached them to his current text chain with Jason and sent them without an explanation, and began retracing his steps back though the garage at a more leisurely pace.
He veered towards the lockers, opening his with a scan from his thumb. He took the polaroid’s out of his pocket and began to arrange the photos on the inside of the door, sticking them in place with magnets amongst the rest of the pictures and notes he kept within. The last in his hand was the one the Cass had picked out, featuring Jason’s handsome profile and delicate smile.
Tim’s gut gave an uneasy lurch, and he slipped the image behind the one Stephanie had captured of Cass and Dick. He shut the locker quickly, before he could change his mind about keeping the picture there and sunk down onto the bench. His feelings regarding Jason were beginning to feel wildly out of hand, the stress of it settling into various parts of his body. And Cass being in on his secret didn’t do anything to ease anxiety.
With a deliberate breath, he stilled his bouncing knees, opening up his phone to read Jason’s response.
Nice Upgrade.
Tim chuckled, rising and climbing up back to the Manor.
I’m a little in love.
Test her out yet?
No, I will tonight.
I’ll race you, Birdie.
You can’t keep up with me.
You’re getting awful cocky.
You must be rubbing off me.
Don’t let B hear you say that, he’ll lock you up in a tower.
As if you wouldn’t break me out.
I’ve managed fewer heroic acts.
Kane Memorial Bridge, 3am-- barring any emergencies?
Prepare for your imminent defeat.
Loser buys tacos?
Deal. See you tonight.