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Was Tim ever this much of a chatterbox in his world? Jason has never heard the kid say so much, despite knowing the older Tim for so much longer, and it’s a stark difference. His world’s Tim is withdrawn, but this tiny version of his little brother is so animated and bright. Jason plans on making sure he stays that way.
But good God, the kid asks a lot of questions. He’s endlessly curious about Jason’s home universe, and Jason knows he can’t keep dancing around the difficult answers for much longer. Inevitably, things go wrong before Jason is ready to deal with his problems.
Jason’s fingers claw at the dark wood above his head, desperate to get out. He doesn’t know where he is, and he’s scared and alone. He breaks through, splinters digging into his skin as he breaks the wood apart, and dirt falls into his face. He lets out a broken sob, suffocating on panic as the ground digests him. He scrabbles up, desperate to free himself. His lungs burn and his fingers bleed. He’s drowning. Drowning.
He must’ve screamed, because the next thing he knows, there’s a tiny hand looped around his wrist. Jason fights back the roar of the Lazarus Pit as he jerks his hand back, fingers wrapping around the hilt of the knife he keeps under his pillow. He struggles to clear his head, breathing harsh and labored as he fights to free himself from his nightmare. Tim’s wide eyes blink up at him, and the green haze flickers, growing stronger. Jason closes his eyes and forces himself to let go of the knife before he scares his little brother even more.
“Are you okay?” Tim asks, voice warbling with concern. Jason opens his eyes, unclenching his fists and staring down at the crescent-shaped indents in his palms.
“Fine, baby bird. Just a nightmare.” He runs a hand over his face, drags it through his hair. His hands are trembling. He kicks the blankets off his legs and stands, moving toward the kitchen for a glass of water. Tim trots after him, like a little duckling. Jason glances at the clock—it’s after five in the morning—and starts up the coffee maker instead. He’s not going to be getting any more sleep after dreaming about his resurrection.
“What did you dream about?” Tim asks, hopping up onto the kitchen counter.
“It’s nothing you need to be hearing, kiddo,” Jason says around a weary sigh. He grabs a mug from the cupboard, swatting lightly at Tim’s hand when he reaches up for one, too. “Nope, no coffee for the little gremlin.”
“I want to help,” Tim insists, completely unfazed. “Please, Jay?”
“Stubborn brat,” Jason grumbles. He pours the coffee into his chipped mug and takes a sip, ignoring the burn against his tongue. “Okay, short, non-traumatic version: I dreamt I was buried alive.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, wasn’t fun.”
Jason sometimes wonders whether or not he should take the risk and kill the Joker. He knows something that drastic would definitely put him on the Bats’ radar, but he’d certainly feel better. He’ll never feel safe as long as that monster breathes. He’s determined to make this world a better one than his own, but he has Tim to think about, now. The kid looks up to Jason, for some reason, and he can’t screw that up. Revealing himself as a murderer to Batman wouldn’t do Robin any favors, either.
“Jay?” Tim’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts. He raises a brow, and Tim hesitates. “Do you want a hug?” He’s still so uncertain, doubting his affection will be appreciated. Jason lets himself smile at the kid and opens his arms. Tim leaps off the counter and clings to Jason’s neck. He’s such a tiny kid—small and precious and too smart for his own good. “When did it happen?”
“How’d you know it wasn’t just a dream?”
“You seem really freaked out. You’ve had nightmares before, but this is the first time you’ve been rattled by one. I figured it had to be different.”
“Smart little bird,” Jason says softly. Hugging his little brother like this, the memories don’t snap at his heels the way they normally do. They’re separate from him, not just another ugly part of him, at least for a little while. “I died, and then I came back. Dug my way out.”
“You died?” Tim’s voice is small. He presses his face against Jason’s shoulder, trying to hide his expression. Jason can feel tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, and it wounds something in his heart. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m okay,” Jason murmurs. He rests his cheek against the top of Tim’s head.
“Promise?”
Jason doesn’t reply for a long moment, lost in his own head. He doesn’t know what to say. Tim gives him the space to think, something Jason is grateful for. He organizes the mess of tangled threads of thought in his head. His response comes to him slowly.
“I’m working on it, baby bird,” he finally says. It’s as honest as he can afford to be. “Making amends, making peace with what happened and with myself. It’s tough, but it’s coming along.”
“Amends?” Jason hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t elaborate. Tim surprises him by not asking him more. He’s always hungry for explanations, for information and stories. For once, the beehive of questions buzzing around in his brain is silent.
“I fu—messed up my second chance,” Jason says. He thinks Tim deserves at least a piece of the puzzle, especially if he wants to let the kid trust him. “I wasn’t a good person, but I wanna be better.” He closes his eyes and tries to banish the memory of stalking through the halls of Titans Tower, of blood on the walls, of the glee he felt as he hunted Robin down, how he barely stopped himself from gutting him. He really doesn’t deserve Tim’s trust, but he’s going to protect the kid, no matter what.
“Amends,” Tim repeats. “You hurt other-me; didn’t you? That’s why you’re so nice to me.”
“Yeah, I hurt him, but that’s not the only reason I’m nice to you, kid.” He waits for Tim to look up at him, uncertain how he’ll react. Tim’s blue eyes haven’t lost any of the trusting spark in them, which doesn’t really make any sense at all to Jason. He just looks confused and a bit curious. “I realized too late how good of a kid you are,” Jason explains. “I’m sticking around because my little brother deserves better than what he got in my world.” He sighs, waiting for Tim to understand, to let go of him and run. He deserves better than what his counterpart had—Jason included. But Tim surprises him.
He just hugs Jason tighter.