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It was different than with anyone else.
Bruce was a father. A mentor. A friend. Alfred, a grandfather. A listening ear. A moral compass.
Jason was an adversary. A challenger. A frenemy. A pal. Cassandra was a sister. A princess. A confidant. An ideal. Barbara was a comfort. A brain. A rock. A reminder.
Damian was a partner. A firecracker. A complement. And, as silly as it was, a son.
But Tim.
Tim was a brother.
That’s it.
No more and no less.
It had always been that way, before Dick even liked him. Back when he tried to convince him to return to Robin. Back when he was still grieving over Jason, back when him and Bruce couldn’t be in the same room. He was a nuisance, like a stray puppy that followed you everywhere.
But then he became Robin. Then, he put on those ridiculous colors and worked harder than anyone Dick had ever seen. To protect Gotham and her innocents, to protect Bruce and his sanity. To protect himself and the ones he held dear.
And it didn’t take long for Dick to absolutely adore him.
Because he was literally the most precious thing. He was so tiny, so nerdy. Sometimes he was still too naïve, too wide-eyed and bushy tailed to be running around in a mask and kicking criminals in the face. But Dick was happy to have him. In his life, on patrol, there when he had a crisis. Tim, after all, seemed to take all of their mental health as a personal mission. And Dick shouldn’t have indulged him – he was a child, for god’s sake – but he let him carry that weight. It made Tim happy, caring for them, and Dick wasn’t going to be the one to deny him what made him happy.
Dick wanted to spoil him rotten.
That’s what little brothers were for.
But then Tim’s world crumbled. Again and again and again. Then, Tim was lost, and Dick was willing to drop everything to help him. Even when Tim wouldn’t accept it. Even when Tim wouldn’t do something as simple as pick up the damn phone.
That puppy analogy came back to mind. But instead of the one that followed you home, Tim became the one in the back of a cage, with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.
Then, that day at the Lazarus Pit, it all came to a head. After months of worry, of fear that his baby brother was shattered beyond fixing, Tim let himself be taken care of. Let himself slump in Dick’s arms, be held and loved. Cried and sobbed for all the times that he didn’t, for all the people that he lost and was never going to see again.
Dick was so proud of him, that day.
And that was the memory he had to keep, in the days and months following. When Damian stayed and Bruce died. When Dick had to make choices for the whole family, and no one was left unhurt.
It was near torture, Tim purposely remaining away. Tim not calling or checking in. Tim not answering his phone calls or pages. And it was awful – really, Dick hated himself for it – but sometimes, on the bad days, Dick resented Damian for it. Resented Bruce for it, too. For putting them all in this position. For hurting them and leaving them and tearing them all apart.
For forcing Dick to upset Tim even more.
And he could deal with most of it. With Jason hating him, with Damian looking down on him, even with Cassandra and the other women steering clear.
But the idea that Tim hated him?
It was the worst feeling in the world.
Nothing changed, though. Because no matter what, Tim was his little brother. Tim would always be his brother, even if he one day claimed he was not. And Dick would always take care of him to the best of his ability.
But still. He was lucky, the day Ra’s attacked the city. They were all spread so thin, fighting the League’s army, protecting the innocent. He didn’t think he was going to make it. He trusted Tim to win, of course he did. Tim was one of the toughest people he’d ever known. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use backup.
When he saw Tim fall, he is almost completely sure his heart stopped. For just a second, and in that second the despair of being too late hit him tenfold. He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to watch Tim die, just like he watched his parents fall and-
His breath came back when he felt Tim’s unconscious weight against his side. When he heard the short labored inhales against his ear.
Got him. He got him.
That didn’t mean everything was okay, though. Tim was alive, but that didn’t mean that when he woke up he wouldn’t scream in Dick’s face. Wouldn’t remind him how angry he was, wouldn’t remind him how much he hated him.
Especially since the first person he saw once regaining consciousness was Damian.
But Tim surprised him then, when he looked up at Dick with a warm, knowing, satisfied smile.
“How’d you know?” Was all he could ask. “How did you know I’d be there to save you?”
And then Tim laughed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Even Damian rolled his eyes, as if that was the dumbest question he’d ever heard.
“You’re my brother, Dick. You’ll always be there for me.”
It hit him like a ton of bricks. He and Tim were…they were okay. They had always been okay. That Tim had been angry in that moment, but eventually understood why Dick did what he did. That it wasn’t a matter of picking Damian over him, it was a matter of doing what needed to be done, for everyone.
It also made him realize that Tim…didn’t need him anymore. He was no longer that adorable little kid who tripped over his own cape, who fell into dumpsters and fell asleep on any flat surface he could find. Didn’t need his big brother to protect him or hold his hand, at least not all the time. Didn’t need to be told what to think, or who to fight.
And Dick…couldn’t be happier for him. Couldn’t be more proud if he tried. He would have cried, if he wasn’t surrounded by other people. He would have held on to Tim and never let go if the kid didn’t have more injuries than could be counted.
So instead, he just decided to remain at Tim’s side. Help him when he needed it, let him be when he didn’t. And in the coming days, in the coming months and years, Tim thrived. Smiled like that kid he once was. Glowed with the self-confidence that only came with surviving the worst. And really, Tim had survived the worst, and then some.
Nowadays, when he came to Dick, it wasn’t for help or safety, it was to hang out. Catch up. Destress. Do what normal brothers would do. What they did, back when they were younger, before the world was turned upside down a hundred times over.
But just because he grew up, just because he didn’t need taken care of, didn’t mean Tim wasn’t Tim anymore. He still fell asleep wherever he could. Still stumbled over his own feet from time to time.
And Dick couldn’t help but cackle in amusement as the two of them went out to lunch, and Tim shoved the burger in his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a days. As he dribbled every sauce and topping down his shirt like he was still a newborn baby.
He reached out with the napkin in habit, wiping Tim’s chin and cheek. Tim swallowed the latest bite, sucked his lips embarrassingly into his mouth, wiped his face with his sleeve and grinned in accomplishment.
Yeah. Tim was his own man, and was doing just fine without him.