Chapter Text
Without me, you are just so defenseless
From motorbikes and girls who might try to break your heart
So I’m pretty sure that I should make you breakfast
And then I should never leave the front seat of your car
-Maisie Peters, Helicopter
Today was one of those perfect spring mornings that you long for all winter, when the sky is cerulean blue, the wind dances through the trees, the perennials are once again blooming in Alfred’s carefully cultivated garden, and Jason’s view from the seat by the window captured it all.
Truly, there was no better way to spend a day than sitting in his favorite chair in the manor library, book in hand and mug of English breakfast tea on the side table. The mug was mostly empty now, but that was to be expected after an hour of lounging and rereading Sense and Sensibility.
Jason couldn’t have asked for a more peaceful day. So of course, that’s when the library door banged open and a small, dark-headed figure darted in.
“I messed up, and Damian’s gonna kill me.”
With a sigh, Jason placed a bookmark between the pages of his book and set it to the side.
“Damian’s not going to kill you, Dickie.”
“He might.” Dick wrung his hands together, then set them to the side and began fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. The sight almost made Jason smile— Dick had never quite mastered the skill of staying still. He was a bundle full of energy and happiness and joy, though today his delicate features were marred by a frown.
“What happened?”
Dick looked at him then looked away, eyes not able to settle on any one thing as the story came gushing out.
“I was practicing some of my flips, right? And I know I shouldn’t practice flips in Damian’s room, but I was waiting for him to get home and got bored and it was all fine. But then I misjudged the distance and landed on Damian’s paints and they squirted everywhere and now they’re all ruined!!!”
Jason pursed his lips together. “Tell me they weren’t the Holbein acrylics.”
When Dick wouldn’t meet his gaze, Jason whistled. “Damn, Dickie.”
“I know, I know. I already cleaned it up and stuff but only a few of the colors weren’t squished and I don’t know what to do.” Dick’s baby blue eyes were pleading. “Dami’s gonna be so mad.”
Dick had always been Damian’s favorite, able to melt that icy, prissy demeanor with just one of his dimpled smiles. It was no wonder Dick was worried. He’d always been a people pleaser, and Damian was the last person he’d ever want to let down, maybe even more so than Bruce. Despite the 10+ age gap between them, Dick and Damian’s bond was special. And now Dick had ruined Damian’s favorite (not to mention hella expensive) set of paints.
If it had been anyone else, Jason probably would have teased him for being reckless and incurring Damian’s wrath. In fact, he probably would have said ‘sucks to suck’ and went back to his book. But Dick was legitimately upset, and Jason never could stand to see him unhappy.
He opened his arms and folded the younger boy into the hug he knew he needed.
“You know Damian can’t ever stay mad at you.” He rubbed soothing circles into Dick’s back.
“I just feel terrible.” Dick’s voice was soft. “I know how happy he was when Bruce got those paints for him on his birthday.” And then, a little stronger. “I have to tell him it was me.”
Dick pulled back with a decision made in his eyes. “Thanks Jay Jay. I’m going to tell him this afternoon. The sooner I own up to it, the sooner we can be okay again.”
He pressed a swift kiss to Jason’s cheek and then was gone before the older boy could blink.
Jason waited until he heard the library door shut before resting a hand on over the spot Dick had kissed.
….
Dick shook out his shoulders and steeled himself for the following conversation before knocking on Damian’s door with baited breath. This wasn’t going to be very fun, but he needed to do it.
“Come in, Richard.”
Normally, Damian’s room was one of Dick’s favorite places in the manor. The almost spartan-like organization and neat, clean lines were very Damian. The bed was always made to perfection, and Dick often found the man sitting at his drawing desk, a piece of paper spread on the wood and pencils all lined up in a row.
Damian was sitting there today, as per usual, but the sight didn’t spark joy like it usually did. Instead, it made that sinking feeling in the pit of his chest worsen.
“Hi Dami,” he waved meekly, then perched on the edge of the older boy’s bed. Damian raised an eyebrow, and Dick decided he might as well come out with it right off the bat; waiting would only make it worse.
With a deep breath, he began speaking. “There was an accident. No one’s hurt, don’t worry, but I-”
“Is this about the Holbein acrylics?”
Dick blinked at the interruption. Damian knew? Wait, of course Damian knew. He’d probably been looking for them all day. Dick nodded.
“Jason already told me what happened.” Dick froze. Jason what? “He told me you probably blame yourself. Certainly, I would encourage you and Todd not to spend too much time running around inside the manor, but it is not your fault that Todd tripped on the paints and destroyed them.”
“He- what?”
“I do appreciate the both of you coming to speak with me about it. I will admit I was unhappy when I first learned what happened, but I understand that accidents happen, and Todd has already apologized.”
It took a while for Dick’s brain to understand what Damian was saying, and when it did, Dick’s jaw dropped open. Jason told Damian he ruined the paints. Jason told Damian he ruined the paints.
It must have been because Dick was so upset earlier, there was no other explanation. Jason wouldn’t have even known about it if Dick hadn’t come in and said something. He felt a wave of gratitude swell in his chest, and he wanted- No, he needed to see Jason.
But first, he wasn’t finished talking to Damian.
“Are you mad at him?”
Damian’s eyes softened as Dick asked the question. “No, I am not angry with Todd. I was once young and full of energy too. Besides, I know the two of you can get lost in your own little world sometimes. I just urge you to be more careful with your games.”
“B-but the paints were so expensive,” Dick whispered. “And it’s your favorite set.”
“Todd will be working with Pennyworth around the house to earn chore money so he can replace the paints. But that should only last for a couple of weeks, and it’s only because he wanted to help me buy a new set.”
Dick swallowed thickly. Once again, Jason was cleaning up his mess. He knew that Jason likely wouldn’t ever have told Dick about any of this, and Dick’s chest burned. He needed to see Jason now.
He threw his arms around Damian in a hug that startled his oldest brother, and then he was out of the room like a shot, tossing a “THANK YOU LOVE YOU DAMI,” over his shoulder as he took the familiar path to his favorite place in the manor— Jason’s room.
He flung the door open without knocking, and Jason startled where he was reading a book on his bed.
“Dick? What’s-“ He grunted lightly as Dick slammed the door and then flung himself into Jason’s arms. “-up?”
Dick buried his face into Jason’s neck, torn between misplaced anger and so, so much love. “You idiot. You absolute idiot. I love you so much.”
Jason’s breath hitched, but his voice was steady. “Ya know, I’m getting mixed signals here.”
“You told Damian you ruined the paints!” Dick pulled back to glare at Jason, but the boy just rolled his eyes.
“It’s no big deal, Dickie, it’s whatever.”
“It’s not whatever. It’s… it’s…” He searched for the words, and when he couldn’t find them, threw his arms back around Jason’s neck. “Thank you.”
One of Jason’s arms wrapped around Dick’s waist, and the other began rubbing soothing circles onto his back. Jason’s breath was warm on Dick’s neck, and Dick melted into the embrace. It was the first time he’d felt relaxed all day. But then again, Jason was always his safe place.
“It’s really nothing, but you’re welcome.”
During the following weeks, Jason did in fact help Alfred around the house and in the kitchen. He just didn’t expect Dick to be there with him, stubbornly refusing to leave Jason’s side the entire time.
Jason had to admit it was a lot more fun with him there, and something in his chest softened whenever he saw that angry crease in Dick’s brow every time Jason tried to convince him he didn’t need to stay. Dick was the most stubborn person he’d ever met, and he’d always been loyal to a fault.
And if Jason was being honest, he didn’t fight too hard to make Dick leave. Maybe he should have, but he was also selfish. And everything was better when the two of them were together.