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Tim felt giddy, setting up the gingham blanket up on the roof. Mr. Gargoyle, Tim’s favorite statue in all of Gotham, seemed as though he was keeping guard of the little boy and his basket of trinkets with a grumpy expression.
Setting down the plates and cups, dainty Wedgewood China imported directly from England, Tim takes careful measure to place the finger sandwiches he made for the occasion on a strawberry red platter, and the tea cakes he sourced from his favorite Korean cafe on a white plate delicately covered in strawberries.
Using a tea puck cultivated directly from his family estate in China, he brews the red tea, pouring the hot water from the thermostat.
There! It looked picture perfect! Raising his camera, Tim takes a photo, focusing on the treats and blurring the surroundings. He repeats the process, trying to capture the light just well enough to make the tea shine.
“Wow, you went all out Timmers,” Jason says directly into Tim’s ear, startling the poor boy.
“Jay!” Tim shrieks, whipping his head as fast as he could to face the boy and his twinkling eyes and teasing smile.
He was dressed in his Robin regalia, sensible pants thankfully in place rather than- yeah- His gloved hands cupped Tim’s face, pinching his cheeks slightly.
Trying to play it cool, Tim smiles and asks, “When’d you get here?”
“I’ve been here for the past five minutes, but my boyfriend wouldn’t pay attention to me at all,” he sighs, seeming downcast, “I think the camera is stealing him from me.”
“Dork.” Snorting, Tim looks away and takes one more photo just to mess with Jason.
Laughing, Jason takes the camera and points it at the two of them, capturing a photo of him laughing and Tim’s surprised blue eyes and shocked expression.
“If the camera’s going to steal my boyfriend, I’ll just steal the camera from my boyfriend back.”
“Jayyyy,” Tim whines, trying to annoy Jason into giving his camera back. It backfires. Jason gives him a kiss instead.
“Yes?” “You suck.”
Pouting, Tim faces away from the sidekick.
“Fineee, I’ll give it back.” Jason sighs, and as Tim brightens, Jason smirks. “But only after you eat this.”
Jason brings up the strawberry sandwich to Tim’s mouth, intending to hand feed it to the slighter boy. Gleefully smiling, Jason tells his other condition.
“You’re impossible,” Tim scoffs and takes a bite only to snap his eyes up the second he hears the click of a camera. Chewing aggressively and swallowing quickly, he whines again, “You took a photo-“
“Yeah, it’s this really cute squirrel snacking on a san-“
Tim tackles Jason at that.
Cuddling up on the roof, underneath the many stars, the two boys stay in each other’s embrace, the two boys sigh.
“Jayjay, you have to go now,” Tim says, giving the other a boy a peck on the cheek. “Or else, Batman will find us.”
“I don’t wanna leave though-“
“You’ll see me tomorrow, stop slacking off,” Tim rolls his eyes.
“Well, actually, I’m thinking of going somewhere for some time-“ Jay sits up, looking conflicted, averting his gaze. “My mom… My bio mom, I think I’ve sound her- She’s at Ethiopia and I think-“
“Jay,” Tim shushes. “I hope you find her well.”
“I’ll be gone for a week at most,” Jay smiles, eyes sad and nervous. “Then I’ll take you out in our civvies, we can ride the roller coaster you love so much, eat an inordinate amount of sugar to satisfy your sweet tooth and maybe finally reveal us to Bats.”
Chuckling, Tim kisses his cheek again, “That sounds perfect.”
“Except, you took another photo, didn’t you-“ “No, I didn’t.”
Jason grapples off the roof. He lied. Tim stares at the photo of him kissing Jay’s cheek.
“Liar,” Tim pouts.
The tabloids covered it for weeks. That thing. That very thing. The one that left Tim feeling empty.
“JASON TODD, WARD OF BRUCE WAYNE, DEAD IN ETHIOPIA!”
“Liar,” Tim whispers, hugging his knees. “Liar.”
Dressed in all black, Tim attends Jason’s funeral as just some kid whose parents wanted to make business with the Waynes.
He stays back, all of the adults leaving.
He seats himself in front of the tombstone, ruining his bespoke suit.
“Jay…” Tim cries, finally a left behind, grieving lover and not a stranger. “I miss you already.
“Hey, Jay,” Tim greets, bringing the basket from their last date, setting down the same gingham blanket and snacking on the same sandwich. “Your dad’s becoming really scary, with the way he’s going, he might kill himself. He’s really sad right now.”
“Is it ok if I talk to him?”
“Hey Jay, I talked to your old man.” Tim smiles, sitting on their blanket. “He was so domineering, but I think, from what I saw before I left, I think he’ll be ok.”
“He’s sending me off to Paris or something… I won’t be able to talk to you for a while.”
“I’m sorry, Jayjay, I think I’m gonna have to take over Robin for a while.”
The Titans Tower’s powers went down, and Tim was left the last one standing, his teammates all down before his eyes.
A clang of metal from behind startles him, and there loomed a large, dark man.
“Hey there, Little Birdy.”
Fear takes over Tim’s entire being, momentarily freezing him into place. “Hood.”
Tim, all bloody and broken bones, stares at the large villain who made him to be that way, whimpering out the words despite all his effort to stabilize his voice as he questions, “Why? Why did you do this… You don’t attack kids.”
“That’s just the thing, Little Bird,” Red Hood glimmers, voice eerily bright. “You’re no kid. You’re Robin.”
“Don’t you know how the last one died in those very same colors?” He grouses, voice dripping venom. “How that last one, pathetic and beaten much like you right now, was simply hidden away once he had gone. Ignored and locked away in mere memoirs?”
“You don’t have a damn right to talk about the previous Robin like that.”
Tim’s voice significantly dropped the surrounding temperature. He decided at this moment. He will never, ever forgive this man.
“Oh, well, that’s where you’re wrong.” Red Hood ripped off his collared shirt, showcasing a very familiar green and red suit. Jason’s green and red suit. “I, alone, have the right to talk about him.”
“Jason..?”
The shock of the tower left Tim indisposed for days and weeks on end, his mentor and surrounding adults mistaking his forlorn expression to be one of fear.
No, Tim wasn’t afraid… He was just… Empty, perhaps?
Why would Jason do that to him? Beat him up and treat him like a good-for-nothing scum, look at him as if he was stepped on gum, talk to him like he was nothing but filth?
Tim’s Jason wouldn’t do that, right..?
In the back of his mind, logically, he knew that he had. That Jason had done it, he had a scar on his throat to prove it.
But why..? Did Jason forget all of the good times they had before his death? Or maybe… Him entirely?
At that, Tim found himself pulling his knees, hugging himself into a ball and crying.
Tim slips away briefly, visiting Jason’s tombstone.
“You’re such a liar.”
“You said you’d take me out when you come back…”
“I expected the kind with flowers and a nice dinner,” Tim chuckles. “Not the kind with a knife to my throat.”
Two years after the attack, Jason pulls him aside from patrol, attempting to be placating but desperate to talk.
“Tim? Ahh, I know I must be the last person you’d want to talk to- Or be alone with- But I’d just like to say-” Jason splutters, boyish in his attempt to formulate just the right words. “I’m sor-”
“I’m sorry, Jason,” Tim interrupts. “I don’t think I can accept your apology.”
“I- Yeah, that’s understandable…” Jason trails off, shame filling his entire body. He raises his grappling gun upwards, preparing to take off, only to pause when Tim calls out to him.
“I have a case involving some missing kids from the bowery,” Tim starts, trailing off, unsure but willing to gamble. “Wanna help?”
“Yeah,” Jason answers, looking at Tim with wide eyes underneath his mask “Yeah, I- I’d like to help.”
Jason leaves and Tim smiles to himself.
Two whole years, Tim was left to wonder. Wonder if his lover did forget him. Jason just gave him proof.
Tears prickled at his eyes, but he shook them off. He leaves as well.
It's ok. Tim can still pretend it's ok.
“Thanks for helping me pick up my photos,” Tim smiles, arm occupied by a large brown box of past photographs. “There’s quite a bit, so I suggest stop looking at every single one of them and help pack up.”
“Nah, Timmy, you gave me a box of Dickie’s stupid stunts, can’t pull me away from my brotherly obligation of laughing at every single one of ‘em.” Jason laughs, his ass still on the floor, looking through the photos with tears in his eyes.
Dick just looks at them with awe, “How did you manage to take a picture of me in roller skates with just my boxers and yellow cape?”
“I have a video of the incident, actually.”
“You’re shittin’ me, ‘placement,” Jason laughs much harder at that information, getting up and actually helping, the two leaving their elder brother to sort through his blunders. “Gotta give me the file!”
“Yes, yes, after we clean up,” Tim sighs, placing the boxes into the trolley.
“What’s this pile about, looks extra secure.” Jason comments, seeing a locked box, opening it with the accompanying key. “Family photos or something?”
Tim turns around, curious as to what captured Jay’s curiosity.
“Ahh, wait- Jay!” Tim screams, tackling the box out of the larger boy’s hand the moment he recognizes the intricate, ivy box.
The action jostled the opened box, and the photos inside flew over. Photos of a young Timothy and Jason. Photos detailing their previous relationship. Photo of Tim kissing Jason’s cheek.
“What- What are- What’s all this,” Jason looks at the scattered photos eyes wide while Tim freezes. “Timmy, what’s-”
“They’re nothing, Jason.” Tim shuts the questions immediately, voice cold, though frantic at collecting the photos. “Forget you saw them.”
Jason picks up a photo, and angrily comments, “I don’t think photos of us having a romantic little rooftop picnic is exactly nothing, Tim. ”
“And I say it is.” Tim glares.
“Jesus, Tim, what are all of these- How do you have-” Jason splutters, clutching his hair painfully in an effort to remember the moments captured in the images.
“That’s not important.” Tim swipes the photo from Jason’s hand and buries it deep into the trolley. He pulls the trolley and leaves the older man to stew in his thoughts and memories.
Jason tugs at his arm, preventing his mournful escape, lifting Tim into the air and trapping him 2 feet above the ground, making Tim freeze like a deer in headlights. “Jason?”
“Can we talk about this, Tim?” Jason says, voice the softest it’s been. “Help me remember.”
“It’s best if you forget about these entirely, Jay.” Tim looks away from Jason’s eyes. Shining, teal, far-too-honest eyes.
“They’re my memories too, Tim…” Jason sets Tim down, and Tim wraps his arms around himself, “Don’t you think it’s up to me to decide such a thing?"