Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was late. Jason stares into the inky well of his coffee;he would have scowled if he had the energy.

Tap.

Probably busy helping a squirrel cross the road or something as simple as. Nightwing's back in full swing after the Batman debacle and Dick seems eager to settle into his routine again.

Tap.

It was a good break for him,leaning into the simple things,not always having to chase The Mission.

Tap.

Still. He shouldn't have asked Jason here if he couldn't fit him into his schedule.

Tap.

He was tired of asking people to fit him in.

Tap.

The bell above the door jangles and the waitress doing bar service stands up a little straighter and reaches up to fix the part in her hair.

Jason watches this out of the corner of his eye and holds back an amused huff;his brother had that kind of effect on women.

Tap.

He didn't look up when he heard the swish of clothing settling across from him,trying to seem as unaffected as possible.

Tap.

"Hey,Jace! Sorry about being late,Tim had this thing-"

"He forgot it was him and Stephanie's anniversary tomorrow until the last minute and asked you to help plan a romantic night out to impress Share Bear?"

Jason finally looks up as he said that,stopping the movement of his fingers against the handle of the mug,a twist of his mouth the only thing to let onto the affection in his tone.

"They're staying in this year,actually. Steph's hips are bothering her again." Dick doesn't miss a beat. "But yes."

Jason nods.

Dick's blue eyes are lit up with amusement as he relayed the panicked Tim and his flipping through every calendar in his office to figure out why he had marked the date off. It looks like he's already caught the eye of the server, probably already had his order thought out. Always one step ahead, infectious with energy.

The blonde from behind the counter takes it upon herself to come by. Dick smiles gratefully at her,turns halfway out of the booth and it shouldn't feel like rejection-shouldn't

It shouldn't be a big deal but Jason has always been a little defensive.

"Why am I here?"

Fuck. He hadn't meant to be so abrupt.

"Thank you so much!" Dick finishes with a toothy smile and then twists back around. "What do you mean?" Eyes on him again Dick's face turns,seemingly, earnest.

Jason takes a sip of his coffee and waits him out.

"We're here for breakfast. Oh,don't look at me like that! You've had plenty of time to order food and instead you got- is that black coffee? Since when do you drink your coffee black?"

Dick squints at him, probably thinking of the time Jason spilled an entire Earl Grey latte on his copy of Jane Eyre and had yelled so loud that Bruce bought him the mini series on DVD and let him watch it on a school night.

Or the time Dick tried to take a 14 year old Jason to Starbucks and he ordered what was basically a milkshake,in defiance of Bruce's training module,if nothing else. Dick had tried to convince him to order a secret menu item called a "Pink Drink" and Jason had brought one home to Bruce instead, laughing at the look on his face trying to hide a grimace at the milky substance.

Jason misses Alfred's Earl Grey;there was something different about British bergamot.

Tap.

"I was 12,and it's not like coffee is going to stunt my growth anymore,right?" He jokes. In truth,it was a habit he'd picked up in replacement of smoking cigarettes,not being able to hold one without thinking of Sheila dropping ash on him,the taste of rust as the Joker shattered his cheek bone. He wasn't sure if the rust he tasted was from the blood or the old metal of the crowbar. He couldn't even get a new weapon to beat him with,just old trash. He was trying not to take the metaphor to heart.

Taptaptap.

Dick blinks at him and lets that one pass without comment. "We're here because we haven't had enough Sibling Bonding Time ™!"

'Did that work on Tim?'Jason wonders. Tim was spending partial time back in Gotham to help Bruce recuperate and Dick was taking every opportunity to try to win his affections back.
Based on the couple of times Jason had found the kid sleeping in his safehouse,sometimes in his bed,sometimes he only made it as far as the kitchen before he sprawled out,stress marks vivid even in sleep,it hadn't been working as fast as he'd been hoping.

"Sibling…bonding….time?"

"You forgot the '™'!"

Jason leans menacingly forward. "I don't want to bond with you." He says slowly,meeting Dick's eyes. Starbucks outings aren't gonna fix any of their family.

Dick can try it on Tim-

Tim,who keeps letting Dick come back,Jason come back

Bruce.Damian.

-despite how many times they've all hurt him. Jason outgrew the hope for family a long time ago. The kid's alright though.

Dick keeps right on, ignoring Jason,like usual. "We don't spend enough time together,clearly. Black coffee! Since when? Do you still like chili pepper on your fries? Are you still being hateful about white chocolate? Do you still over pronunciate 'Ardently'? That one's really cute, actually-"

"Is this about Tim?" Jason cuts him off,not wanting to hear more.

"Is what about Tim?' Dick plays ignorant,smiling at the waitress as she brings over his plate. Like there's not a care in the world. Like Jason's muscles don't hurt from how much he's clenching up.

"This sudden interest in siblinghood."Jason feels nauseous and clammy,letting go of his mug with shaking hands. "Using me to get to Tim isn't gonna help,I don't know how to fix the rift you made and we still have our own shit to sort through,he's not gonna take my advice on forgiveness."

"Jason-"

He clenches his fists underneath the table,suddenly shy of his anger. Not even because he doesn't want people to see him affected but because he feels ashamed every time he closes his eyes and sees Tim's swollen and still face behind his lids.

"Just because he takes cat naps at my place sometimes doesn't mean-"

"Wait wait he-" Dick swallows,his eyebrows furrowing,the first true emotion since he sat down.
"He lets you near him while he's asleep?"

Jason understood the surprise,sleep was such a vulnerable position and Tim did it so rarely.

"I know. You think it's a bad idea. I think it's a bad idea. I've tried telling him-" What if Jason loses control,again?

"No. Jason. That's not what I-" Dick cuts himself off,hands splayed across the tabletop.Jason can feel his stare,waiting for Jason to look up and make eye contact.

He doesn't.

Dick's fingers twitch like he wants to grab Jason's hands but after a minute he leans back,purposely relaxes his shoulders,and tries again. "That's not what I meant. It's not a judgement on you." 'This time' Jason thought.

"Tim doesn't sleep when he's at the Manor. It's a workplace for him,it's not home anymore."His voice sounds sad,hints of guilt wrapping around the tone.

"That's always been true in some way,hasn't it?" Jason states. Tim wasn't an orphan when he first joined forces with Batman,nor was he a true apprentice. He worked in the Cave and he went home in the morning and slept for an hour before he got up,put on his Gotham Academy uniform,kissed his step mother's cheek and left for school. He's always had a degree of separation. Less of an emotional one than Tim thought,but.

"We were getting better. I thought- he was trusting me more."

"Trust is something that has to be maintained,Dick."

"And you've been doing the work." Dick sounds bitter,picking at the skin around his nails like he does when he wants to distract himself.

Jason gets it,to a point,how much this has to suck for Dick. He spent his entire adulthood being the big brother,first to make up with Jason,then Tim,trying to fix things with Stephanie,then Damian,Duke,and Cass. He's put more of himself into them than he has into Nightwing,Jason sometimes thought.

As much as he's relieved to not be Batman, losing custody of Damian clearly hurt him but-

"You don't get to be mad at me about that." If Damian is Dick's biggest Big Brother project,Tim is Jason's. He's worked so hard to rebuild the trust. Even after everything,Tim helped him escape prison and Jason still hurt him,again. And Tim let him come back,again. He wanted to do it right this time.

Dick's eyes turn up, remorseful. "I'm not. Surprised,maybe. Out of all of us,I didn't think it'd be Tim."

That startles a laugh out of Jason. "Fair enough."

Jason thinks back to the conversation he and Tim had after one of the many arguments between him and Bruce. It was a bad mental health week and Jason was,as usual,escalating. Stuck back on the Joker.

"You weren't there!" Jason had shouted,pacing the rooftop,gun in hand.

"You don't know what he did,what he said!"

Tim had taken a moment to stare at him and then had just-

Sat down,crossing his legs over each other.

"So,tell me."

Jason relaxes and takes another sip of his coffee. It's starting to taste bad-bitter-stinky which means he's almost okay again.

"Look," he starts,catching Dick's attention."You have to be there for him. Not just what you think that entails,what he says it entails. Only he's never going to tell you that,because he's Tim."

Jason thinks of Barbara the other night when they met for their weekly library hang out,struggling to reach a book and Jason counting the time between her breaths and her attempts at reaching to pinpoint when,exactly,it was safe to offer assistance.

His mouth turns up at the thought while Dick's eyebrows furrow in annoyance at the non answer. "That's the opposite of helpful,Jay."

Dick pushes a banana slice around with his fork.

"We're surrounded by emotionally stunted people. That's just true and it is all of our responsibility to get better. But if you want to mend things before then,you have to do some of the lifting with him.
You gotta give him a little space sometimes too,even if it seems counterproductive. He's like a cat,he'll come to you when he's ready."

"And with you." Dick's voice is so soft,Jason almost misses it.

"And Tim is a gremlin so I wouldn't use sleep as-"

Jason cuts himself off.

"What?" He asks flatly.

"I said,'and with you'. It's not just Tim I want to fix things with,Jace."

Jason kisses his teeth with his tongue while he thinks of how to answer.

'Please, don't do this to me again.'

'I'm not worth it.'

'I'll still help you,you don't have to lie.'

He knows that none of them are fair.

He sets his mug down and puts his jacket back on.

Dick stares at him with wide eyes,lip in his teeth. He says nothing though, Jason's lesson on 'not pushing' apparently fresh in his head.

"White chocolate isn't real chocolate,and I stand by that. If it doesn't get Vulcans drunk,it's not chocolate." He says over his shoulder as the bell dings again.

Chapter Text

Jason is warm,too warm for the chilly November night.

His head is a mess of memories,too many images to pinpoint. He tries to wiggle but his body feels leaded. His vision goes blurry and purple and blindingly white in quick succession.

His arms tingle at the blood curdling scream. His mind has finally chosen a memory. He stares at the child coming to fruition curled up beneath him, uniform soaked in blood and dust,front tooth missing,sobbing softly into his arms.

The R on his uniform is half torn off and his curls are soaked in sweat,eyes bruised and erratic.

Jason reaches for him as the Joker swings again but his hand passes through,of course. He hates this part.

Sheila drops her cigarette,folding her arms across her chest.

Robin scoots away,fingernails digging into the floor and Joker cackles as he drags him back by the ankle,not caring that Robin's cheek is scratching,leaving a new trail of blood on the gravel.

"Where are you going,pretty bird?"

Robin heaves out a breath and cries harder.

"I-"

Slam

"Asked you"

Slam

"A question".

Slamslamslam

"Fuck YOU." Robin catches his breath enough to croak,anger singing in his veins but the nausea threatens to overwhelm him.

Jason knows what comes next. He feels tears prickle in his own eyes.

"Awe,he really is your son. Such manners." Joker teases as Sheila looks on,unimpressed and a little disgusted.

Slam to Robin's ear,blood starting to trickle out and hearing going hazy. Giggles and the swoosh of the crowbar going in and out.

Slam to his ribs. Slam to his knees. It's not like he's running anywhere again.

Slamslamslamslam to his face,then his stomach,then both his hands.

"Daddy!"

There it is.

"Daddy! Help! Please!"

Jason's fists tighten,coming up to press into his eyes. He hates this part so fucking much.

Jason hears the Joker kneel down,but Robin doesn't,shattered eardrum and all.

"Batman isn't coming for you." He seethes into Robin's face,patting his cheek. "You'll never have him again."

Jason's eyes are closed but the Joker's smile still takes up his entire vision.

Jason bolts up in bed,his eyes adjusting to the room's darkness that's only broken by the reading light in the corner.

Barbara stares at him from her spot near the doorway,long red hair coming out of her braid. "You were screaming." She whispers.

"Sorry."He whispers back,pushing up in bed,back against the headboard. They have a system. If he's completely pushed himself into a corner or folded up against the headboard,she shouldn't go anywhere near him. If he's laying down still,she
should immediately. His posture is somewhere in the middle tonight. His stomach feels sour and his eyes feel heavy. There are bees in his head.

She tilts her head in thought,reaching up to adjust her glasses. He can see the moonlight reflecting against them. "Number,Jay?"

His breath is still coming out in gasps. "T-three."

"First three lines of Cristabel."

He sucks in a breath,trying to place himself there. Damp woods and castle walls. Barefoot on wet grass.

"Tis the middle of night by the castle clock," he starts.
"And the owls have awakened the crowing cock;
Tu—whit! Tu—whoo!" She cracks a smile at the noises.

They sit still for a minute,their breaths the only sound in the room. Gotham can't touch them in here,right now.

He slides down a bit,his pillows are scrunched up from his tossing and turning. He doesn't have it in him to turn his back to the door to fix them.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She rolls into the room,wheels squeaking against the wood.

"I-It was the…" He starts and stops. "She was there. And she didn't do anything. She just watched."

Her face crumples. "Jason."

"Why didn't she stop him? Why didn't she-" His breathing is picking up again,breaths coming sharp.

'Why didn't she love me enough to stop him?' Is what he doesn't ask.

She yawns,her eyes losing their sharpness. He feels guilt settling in.

"Go back to sleep,Barbie."

She thinks for a second. "Scoot over then."

"Barbara," he says sternly.

"Jason" she mocks,folding her hands in her lap,looking every bit the stern librarian she is.

He sits up,swinging his legs over the side of the bed,muscles creaking in protest.

"I wasn't asleep anyway." She says as Jason lifts her,gently,always gently, and lays her down. "I was working on the Black Mask numbers."

He knows she's lying,he can't hear the thrum of her makeshift lab and the skin around her eyes is slightly swollen when he takes her glasses off and tucks them on the nightstand.

He doesn't call her out, appreciating the effort for what it is. He's trying to get better about that.

"How are they looking?" He asks instead,making his way back around.

She talks and he "mhms" and "that rat bastard"in the right places. Sometimes he feels like he's a collection of things that are molded into a human shaped puzzle box and he has to know which emotion or social cue to pop out when they twist appropriately.

He remembers Selina telling him about her method of survival,seventeen and starving, living with a man who touched her in the wrong ways. Nineteen and learning self defense,becoming Catwoman,taking in Holly. Having something to live for besides herself. She talked about the way she molded herself to fit men's fantasies,relaxing into their laps like it was home.

He thinks it's kind of like that. He spent so much time in survival mode,Tim calls it Feral Mode and Jason knows Tim is joking but sometimes it stings slightly,that he can't fit himself back into how real people do things. Gotham is a mess of a place with people scattered all over,so maybe he's not alone as he thinks in that. Maybe they just all make it look so easy.

"And I don't know why he thought I wouldn't…find..it" He tucks a strand of hair behind Barbara's ear,her words trailing off.

He'd turned to face her during the rundown,looking at her was calming. Her cheek squished up against the pillow,eyes half open,long blonde lashes fluttering against her cheekbones.

"Go to sleep." I'm okay now. Thank you.

"We're gonna talk about what's bothering you in the morning." It's not a question.

"Yes,ma'am," he drawls.

Her smile lingers as she drifts off.

He watches over her for a couple hours,until the clock hits eight. She's working a close shift at the library today,overseeing the community outreach so she won't need to be in until two. Which means she'll be in at one fifteen sharp to boss the newbies around.

He's trying to decide what to make her for breakfast. Maybe migas? He thinks he washed the skillet the other night.

He stops short on the threshold of the kitchen. Tim Drake is sprawled on the floor under the kitchen table,head tucked on a plastic bag,the absolute idiot.

Hasn't he ever heard of choking? Jason fumes silently,walking back out of the room.

Barbara's room in his apartment is scarcely decorated and consists of her makeshift lab and a bed with an extra comforter. She's still in the clock tower,mainly,but they spend enough time together and Jason isn't going to interrupt her work nor is he gonna let her sleep on the couch. God,he wishes Tim would sleep on the couch more. It's not commitment. It's practical.

He nabs a pillow enclosed in a purple butterfly case,found easily and makes his way back to the table. He stares at him for a moment,dark hair shocking against his pale face,fingers twitching a bit,the bruise from his recently broken nose an angry red line. Jason feels his heart crawl into his throat.

Tim lets out a half yell,half shriek when the pillow hits him in the chest with a mild thumping noise.

"What the fuck," he murmurs, electric blue eyes squinting angrily up at Jason.

Jason clicks his fingers at him,like Catherine used to do so long ago. "Children aren't meant to play in plastic bags. Couch. Now." He rises from his crouch,noticing the stove overhead light on. That's why Tim made it all the way to the table,the light was bugging his eyes.

Tim grumbles as he rolls out,stopping in front of Jason's feet. Tim whacks his ankle,halfheartedly. Jason just sighs.

This fucking kid.

Jason stays still to avoid stepping on his fingers and watches him stumble his way safely to the couch,anyway.

He drops onto it,rolling himself into a blanket as he goes.

Jason reaches over to turn off the stove overhead light. The sun has been up for a while now,spreading its beams across the counter to the fridge.

He wonders when his life became this. His best friend,well. The only best friend that's still alive right now and The Pretender asleep in his apartment. Not because they needed an emergency stitch up or because they were dragged back to the nearest place unconscious. Because they chose to come back to him.

He thinks of Roy,Artemis,Kori and Bizarro. The way they reached inside him and rattled around long enough to find a person. The work they did so he became a man graceful enough to accept this.

Jason is halfway through cutting a bell pepper when his cell rings. 'Dickie Bird' flashes across his screen.

He contemplates how graceful he's feeling this morning and then picks up.

Chapter Text

He's unusually nervous when he goes to see her.

They've only been back in the same city, consistently,for a few months. They haven't talked in all that time. Really talked.

The anniversary was a good idea,he thinks. It got them in a room together, sentiment and all.

She looks beautiful,crouching next to him,the shitty fluorescent lights of the security systems not doing her justice.

"Why am I here,Red?" She asks,point blank.

He texted her as patrol was winding down asking to meet. The masks help,having a layer of separation. He knows it's a Bruce Thought,as Jason would say. Dissociating his real identity and feelings to make it easier to swallow things.

Tim leans his shoulder into the stone next to him, starting out at the city. He wants to confess to her,he wants to hold her hand and bring her home and kiss her silly,he wants to yell and scream,he wants to slip so far into his Red Robin mask he never comes back out

"When we thought B was dead,it sucked."

Stephanie blinks at the blunt reference to such a recent and traumatic event. "He was your mentor and a father figure,of course it sucked."

He shakes his head. Yes but no. That's not what he means.

"We thought he was dead and everything fell apart. It felt like all the routine and network building I'd done was for nothing,like it was ruined. I felt replaceable. It sucked. I felt so isolated and alone."

She's watching him with careful eyes,shoulder leaned into his thigh. "Okay."

He swallows,starts again. "When you were Robin was the loneliest time of my life,besides then.

Steph jerks in surprise next to him,shoulder riding up. "What?"

She's looking at him,he can tell. He keeps his gaze on the outline of the East Side. He knows what she's thinking,that he's making her accomplishments about his emotional distress again and she's not wrong per say but-

"I work for things,Steph. That's how I get by. I have goals and I accomplish them and then I make new ones,one foot in front of the other. Goal after goal." Things to live for. "Leslie thinks it's a form of OCD called-"

"Workaholism?" Her tone should be mocking,and it might be to people who don't know her well,but he can hear the way it softens and opens for him.

She's always had a layer of acceptance while interacting with him,as if she knows he needs someone who is gonna hear him out. Even if it's nonsensical, especially if it's nonsensical. He wishes he told her she was doing well more often. Wishes he showed it in how he talked to her,touched her,and returned to her.

"Well,yes. And suddenly everything I worked on- my relationship with you,my mental health,Robin,my grief…" He trails off,lost in how he wants to explain this. "I had to reset,replan. Like when Dad took Robin away from me. I pushed you out."

She shifts where she's crouching, obviously uncomfortable with the reminder. That's not something that's been trained out of her,despite all attempts. Just like her attitude hasn't been,fists furious where her mouth would have been.

"You left." Her voice is sharp,an undercurrent of betrayal still outlining it,years in the making.

"I know."

"Again."

"I know."

"I don't just mean physically."

He swallows hard. "I know." He thinks of the way his brain compartmentalizes,how it cuts things out for the next goal.

He forgets things when that happens though,has to forget things if he wants any claim to focus and sanity.

Like the way Stephanie's smile starts on one corner of her mouth,slowly edging around,like she's hesitant to let it form,but she laughs with abandon and giggles at most anything she finds cute.

Like how Jason's white lock falls a little short to be tucked behind his ear,no matter how many times he pushes it behind.

Like how Duke forgets his backpack every other morning and has to double back for it,sneakers squeaking against spotless linoleum in his hurry.

"I just-"

Tim gives up and sits down,pulling his knees to his chest.

"I meant it when I said I loved you." He tries,again.

Steph smiles,small and pure. "I know." She sits properly,but he can tell she's assessing the area quickly, Barbara's training fresh in her mind. Tim's mocking words too,no doubt.

'You let your guard down.'

God,he feels like an asshole.

"I don't think you would have called Wing for help if you didn't." It shouldn't startle him but he's always underestimated how well she knows him,and can read him like her favorite manga.

She relaxes,no threats apparent.

His mouth twists beneath the cowl. "You figured that one out,huh?"

"White cheddar on popcorn? Dick helped you prep movie night. C'mon,Timmy. "

Of course.

"No real names in the field." He says,automatic.

He likes his popcorn extra salty,he never would have done that on his own. He was too busy looking at her take in the bad horror movie to really notice the food.

"I wanted it to be perfect." He admits. He'd fiddle with his fingers if he were five years and several traumas younger,he tucks them under his knees instead. Have to be focused. Can't afford to fidget.

If it were two years ago,Stephanie would have taken his hands. She twitches like she wants to but then settles.

"It was." She says.

She flicks her ponytail to the side and in her Valley Girl voice,no trace of her East accent,says "Are we gonna like talk about your trauma surrounding my stint as Robin or like?"

He cracks,huffing a snort under his breath. "I hate when you do that."

"That's why I do it,I live to annoy." She says flippantly.

He pauses. If it were even four months ago,he wouldn't hesitate to agree. He'd have said something unintentionally cutting and she would have either brushed it off,or internalized it. Either way,it wouldn't have been taken how he meant it.

"You don't annoy me." He says,earnestly,turning to her.

She blinks at him,eyes calculating,insecure. She blinks again and the emotions disappear.

Clean slate.

Neat trick.

'When did she learn that?' He wonders.

"I didn't just do it because I was mad at you,you know?" She was mad,he remembers,furious at him for leading her on again. But she was also focused and determined and hopeful. Ready to make Robin joyful again.

'So much like a younger Jason'. He knew Bruce always thought. That's why he was so extreme when she disobeyed orders. Tim had to admit though,that Bruce didn't want her to disobey and was treating her like she already had. A paradox not even he could figure his way out of.

They all underestimated her. Barbara tapped into something that had always been there,ready to flourish if given the support. Tim had never thanked her for that.

"I missed you and B and Dad all at once. But you were from different parts of my life,different people who needed different things from me. I didn't know how to reconcile that."

"So you shut down." She finishes for him,filling his empty spaces,just like always.

He nods.

"I didn't want to disappoint anyone and I ended up disappointing everyone. I wanted to pretend I didn't so I just-"

His words flee him,ideas scattered by the white noise in his head.

He wanted to be the perfect son,good enough to make up for his mom's death.

She shifts on the concrete,pressing against his side. So warm.

She's soothing him now.

"It's okay,Tim." And "I understand." Making its way through his errant thoughts,erratic heart rate.

He feels hands on his and he stands,not sure why he's trusting where the hands are leading.

"That's enough for tonight. You did good,let's go home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Home is the theater on the East side, somewhere Stephanie hasn't been since-anyway. If Tim had thought clearer through his anxiety attack,he would have thought about the mugs littering the floor. Steph side steps them easily,planting Tim,loose limbed and still a little dizzy on the couch.

He can hear her picking up the blanket nest sitting by the coffee table. If Jason and Dick needed to be so high no one could ever reach up and touch them when they felt unsafe,Tim needed to be so low he could bury himself in the earth in a moment's notice. If they needed wide open spaces,Tim needed to be boxed in and secured at all sides.

He decided not to dwell on what that said about his childhood support network.

Warmth,again. Fuzzy this time and then fully encapsulating,arms tight around him.

He leaned back into it and closed his eyes.

"Am I being swaddled?"

He can hear the grin in her voice when she responds with "You're my baby,ain'tcha?"

He huffs,knowing she's teasing but thinking it sounds nice anyway.

Being taken care of. Being settled.

"It felt like losing you."

She doesn't pretend not to understand. "I was finding myself. Despite taking up your mantle. I was finding myself outside of you. We were kids,Tim. I needed to grow."

They still are kids,technically. Troubled teens shoving things together and hoping it sticks,trying not to think about when they need to untangle it.

"You needed to define yourself." He adds, becoming aware of the beads of sweat forming in his hair and sticking to his neck. He feels his arms returning and his legs feel itchy from how hard and tight they're curled under him.

He feels her nod,hair swishing against his cheek. "I'm sorry that it hurt you, especially faking my death. I know that messed you up,messed our dynamic up."

It had. He understood,in the end. It was the kind of tactical decision he'd make,that Bruce had made with Dick.

Tim remembers the all consuming anger he felt when he saw someone in that damn costume. How sharp and tangible his anger felt when he was tailing her,so close to breaking The Rule for such a stupid reason in retrospect. He remembers standing in her safehouse,seeing her pull the Spoiler mask off. How his heart dropped and then immediately did a zip back up into his throat,relief and love and hurt all colliding in a cocktail.

She swallows. "But-I would do it again. It brought us here and I'm my own person now. Even if you don't like everything about her. I'm not sorry about that."

'Is that what she thinks? That I don't like who she's become?'

He shifts,not liking the thought,straightening his legs and turning so he can see her face. She'd taken off her mask,freckles dulled by the glue but still scattered across her nose,the bottom of her right eye,if you looked close enough. Tim looks close enough.

She has more scars,he knows,even though he can't see them all right now. From Black Mask and her father. From him and Bruce,taking things out on her,trying to push her out of a place they'd invited her into.

"Uhm,Earth to Timberly?"

He didn't realize how long he'd been quietly looking at her,taking her in.

She's flushing under his admiration,scrutiny she's probably thinking,and it's cute,the blush rising up to her ears.

He tucks a piece of golden hair behind one and says slowly and seriously,"I love who she is. I'm proud of who she is."

She blinks twice in quick succession,plush lips parting with a blown out breath.

Her hand goes to cover her face but he intercepts it,takes it in his and runs a finger across one of her chipped glitter painted nails.

Purple and red. He smiles. She's missed him.

He'd glance at the piano on the other side of the staircase if he could look away from her bright eyes. He's missed her too.

She blinks again,and then there are tears,tracking down silently. She's always been a silent crier. Despite how loud she is when she's angry, insulted,scared,poked and prodded. How she laughs loudly and loves wholly. When she cries, it's quiet.

He wonders if it goes back to her parents,better not to attract attention,better not to show weakness. He imagines a younger version of the woman in front of him,muffling her mouth until she shoves everything back inside.

He grips her hand tighter.

He remembers the stunned look on her face when he kicked her into that wall,the choking noises she'd made. The resignation when she left was the worst part,he thinks. That she was always expecting a blow,that it was inevitable for her. He wonders if she cried.

She tucks her face in his neck,shaking with sobs,with relief and acceptance. He kisses her head.

He's never going to make her feel unsafe again. He decides,in a split second,not sure he can keep that promise to himself.

He's going to try though.

He told Bruce that 'he was who he was now' but changing yourself is simple. You just keep making the choices to get the result you actually want, instead of what impulse tells you to do,until you do it so often it becomes your regular routine,your new impulse.

They spend the night there,eventually Tim ushers Steph to lay out in an actual bed. Her hips and her back need a space to unfurl in, properly. He reminds her of that when she huffs about him sleeping on the couch.

"It's a two thousand dollar couch,Steph."

"Okay one? You'll be the first to be eaten and two? You've done a romantic gesture this week already,don't give yourself a rash."

They both end up in the bed,her splayed across his chest with all the confidence in the world.

Tim knows Jason is going to give him A Look when he finds out but he doesn't even care. He falls asleep with the scent and warmth of Stephanie surrounding him and he doesn't wake up every two hours,like he usually would.

Chapter Text

"Red Robin,status?" Batman crackles to life in his ear. His head isn't as in it as it should be.

Tim does one more slow scan of the docks.

"Warehouses 1-12 clear."

"Robin?"

"12-20 clear." Damian's voice hopefully finalizes the end of their patrol.

Batman pauses a moment,assessing and then "Alright,we're done for tonight. Report back."

Tim hears Damian's sharp "Yes,Sir."As he's changing direction back towards South.

"Red Robin out." Is all he says as he clicks his com once,and gets Barbara's keyboard clacking in return.

Tim from before would have stayed. Chatting with O on the way back to the Cave. Picking fun at the Demon,typing the field report and touching base with Bruce.

He doesn't spend time doing that as much anymore.Barbara will send him an error report,if need be.

He has a date to keep.

He can hear her checking in with Batgirl about the case she was doing work on. He hears Steph reassure her: Yes,she was fine and heading home. No,she didn't get any of the "green goop" on her hands. And yes,she got the USB.

Tim doesn't know what any of that means and he's doing his best to hold his tongue on asking,he's on these coms as a guest. He trusts her,he trusts her,he-

He swings to the high-rise that's his destination,sticking the landing with what years ago would have been a soft thump,but was soundless these days.

More time must have passed than he thought,she was already here swinging her feet where she sat.

"No,I don't think he'd do that. He doesn't seem too high up in the hierarchy. I think they're going to wait for Saturday when The Boss gets back." Her tone is mostly serious, but still mocking the goons.Tim's filled with warmth at the playfulness Bruce never managed to lecture out of her.

"Okay,O. Thanks. Batgirl out." She clicks her com and slips it off.

"Hey,creeper, my kind-of-boyfriend is going to be here soon. Sooooo." Tim gives a small smile at the greeting,wondering what gave him away.

"Your kind-of-boyfriend is kind-of-a-twink.I think I can take him." He shoots back,stepping closer.

Stephanie turns and oh he'd forgotten how she looks in the city lights. Sirens reflecting off her soft hair,eyes dark under her mask. It shouldn't be romantic and yet-

This is Gotham after all.

"How'd you know I was here?" He asks,coming to stand behind her. She leans backwards onto her arms,tilting her head back to look at him.

"Instinct." She answers,eyes lit up in mischief.

He snorts,instinct his ass."C'mon,BG. This is your chance to nit pick me about my skills."

"Dust." She says simply. "Are you going to take out your com?"

"Du- you didn't hear the dust."

"You're right,I didn't. I felt it. You got my neck,when you passed the chimney."

He kneels down automatically to look and sure enough there's a dark layer on the back of her neck,under the tight pony. He reaches out a wet finger to wipe it away,turning the layer into a smudge,then nothing in two swipes. He's aware of how tense she's becoming under his hand. He desperately wants to lean forward.

Kiss her neck,slip his hands lower,feel how fast her heart is beating for himself.

He lets her go.

"It could have been the wind. Or a rat."

"It could have been. I would have just talked to myself on a rooftop with no one to watch my embarrassment then." Her smirk is upside down from this angle,all hesitant joy and sharp teeth.

Tim aches.

He clears his throat,sliding down to sit next to her in one fluid motion. His com stays in.

"How's the Riddler case going?" He guesses.

She snorts,her hair swishing as she shakes her head. "Wrong bad guy,but nice try."

"Do you need…" He stops,not entirely sure what he was going to ask.

Help? Me?

"…Anything?" He finishes slowly.

It feels like walking on tiptoes,like the social games he was trained to play as a child. Smile,be helpful-but not vulnerable. Make them think they see your underbelly-but never take the armor off.

He remembers parties with his parents, fundraising for the university. How his mother would review the script with him before they left. They'd use index cards sometimes if Tim was having a Bad Week focusing on social skills,guiding him through what to say,when to smile,when to frown in sympathy,when to laugh.

Tim used to twist his fingers into knots,sometimes until they popped,underneath the dinner tables. The only outward sign of his distress. It's different with Steph,he's not pretending for her sake,he's pretending for his. He's not the only one pretending.

She's quieter now,not by too much,just enough to miss. Her chatter is focused,intentful even when it seems mindless,acting as a distraction or a break in conversation. Her eyes fill with panic when people get too close to her wrists and she doesn't drink fruit punch anymore,seems to turn green at the smell but he doesn't mention it,doesn't need to know the details.

The delicate dance they're doing to try not to lean into any of the topics that hurt is a careful one,taken a step at a time.

"A million dollars." She deadpans.

"I know a guy." He retorts,watching her eyes light up at getting him to engage.

"How's that going?"

"Being a millionaire?"

"Working for one."

Tim tenses. "It's not-I'm not working for Batman. The dynamics have changed. I'm not anyone's Robin anymore."

Stephanie visibly softens. "You don't have to be Robin to be you. Or to be a part of that family."

Tim snorts,can't help himself, bitterness flooding his bloodstream. "That's ironic coming from you."

Shit.

He goes cold at the look in her eye,a mix of anger and understanding,always understanding.

"Fuck you." She's already up and stepping away from him and he wants to smack himself for putting space between them again.

"Batgirl, that's not what I meant-"

She whirls around,ponytail almost whipping him with how fast. "No! It was. You just didn't mean to say it out loud." She stops,jaw clenching so hard he swears he can feel her teeth creak.

She draws a breath in and then lets it out before she continues. "I tried. So hard. To be a part of that family." She's speaking in short stops,like it's hurting her to say.

Tim wants to stop her,wants to reach out and tell her that it's okay. She doesn't need to do this,he doesn't want to put her through this pain when all she was doing was trying to help.

"That family didn't want me. But they want you. Wing and Hood and O putting in that much work,that much time and team effort? Don't disregard that. I know they hurt you and I'm sorry, but don't pretend they're not putting in effort here."

An effort she never got.

"I don't know who I am without Robin." He admits, "I'm jealous you figured it out so well."

They stare at each other for a minute,Stephanie breathing hard through her nose. "I had to- I- '' She takes a breath,hands shaking where they're held out in front of her,as if to stop something getting to her. They shake so hard she clenches them into fists. "I died,Red."

Tim is suddenly aware of his stomach,sorrow and anger combined in a pit at the bottom. "Figuratively." He reminds her.

"No. No,I died in that warehouse." Her voice is steady when she tells him but her eyes are watering up.

He feels like the air has been stolen from his lungs. In France,they believed for a long time that cats would sit on your chest while you slept to steal your breath. He feels like he fell asleep with a cat and now he's struggling to wake up but he has no basis for it,no starting point.

"What?" Is all that comes out.

"Black- he- when he-" The tears are spilling over now and he hates making her cry, can't stop the other night from playing in his head.

The way she felt curled around him. How grouchy she looked when he got up to make coffee, squinting her eyes in the sunlight and rolling back over with a huff. How she traced his face in the lowlights from the window before they went to sleep, thumbing at his bottom lip,watching his breaths hitch but not kissing him.

The warmth seems so far away now.

"Doctor Thompkins revived me and kept me stable enough to get to the clinic." She says, sounding better than when she was trying to say his name. "And then I stayed for a few days and recovered and then she helped me fake my death. But I died on the floor of that warehouse. Alone."

Batman failed another Robin.

The realization hits Tim with full force, causing him to stumble a bit and fall against the chimney for support.

"Stephanie" falls garbled out of his mouth.

"I'm okay now, hey. I'm okay."Her voice is warbling in and out of his ears. She's holding his hands but his skin is buzzing. The energy sparking off,he wants to use it to track Sionis down and hit him and not stop,he wants to wrap Steph in bubble wrap so she never gets hurt again and hold her forever,he wants to track down Bruce and yell at him about being so careless. He wants to go back in time and never go after Spoiler,wants to erase himself from her life so she'd never get involved with B.

"Tim." Her voice is firm. "There was nothing you could have done. Nothing you can do to change what happened. It happened,it's over now."

"Jason-" He gasps,irrationally. "You and Jason -he didn't protect you."He lost them both. He didn't intercede soon enough.

"Hey!" That one is sharp not just firm and her hands are knotted in his hair between one blink and the next. "Listen to me" She starts,pulling his head up to look her in the eyes. Her eyes. Her hands. She's whole. She's alive. He loosens under her instructions to breathe.

"There you go. Good boy. You're doing fine." He can feel the summer wind,light and warm against the back of his neck. He doesn't remember laying down but he is,laid out on the roof,gravel digging into his skin.

Stephanie is kneeling next to him,face flushed and eyes red but composed. Like her death is something that just happened,like this is another trauma in her life she's blasé about. He admires her compartmentalization and also wants to shake her until she feels as strongly as he does.

"Uhm." He swallows,her hands are still in his hair,tangled up like his thoughts. "Could you-" She's so close,looks almost ethereal with the moon behind her,a back light to the romance playing in his head.

"Could you let go of me?"

He almost whines when she does,drops her hands with an embarrassed shuffle backwards.

"Sorry. We've got to stop meeting like this." Her grin is crooked,friendly. None of the flush of arousal Tim was sure was staining his cheeks.

"It's okay. I uhm- I'm so sorry." He says,reality settling back in,slower this time but no less harsh. "B and I both failed you. You should have been protected."

Stephanie cocks her head,processing,still on her knees in front of him. "Yeah." She says quietly. "I suppose." She sits up, brushing the dust off her hands. "Batman should have given me the proper training,don't get me wrong. But-"

Her voice softens,staring at him with something indecipherable. "Red,you were a child too."

He's trying to remember what it felt like to be a child. To be young and carefree and dependent on the adults around him.

Were him and Stephanie ever really kids in that regard?

He thinks about it,trying not to outright reject the shift of blame. He doesn't want to accept it,that he wasn't at fault there,but he also doesn't want to tell Stephanie about her own trauma. He doesn't want to pretend to be the authority anymore.

Before he can fully come to a conclusion about the right thing to say,his com crackles to life in his ear.

"Red Robin,do you read?" Oracle sounds stretched thin,voice reedy and tired.

"I read. Situation?" Tim says,already pressing his hands down to lift himself up.

Stephanie frowns at him,slipping her com back in and jumping into a crouch on the edge of the roof,ready to leap when he is. He feels a surge of affection for her. They're still great as a duo.

"There's a code Scarlet." Tim gets a chill immediately,goose bumps erupting that have nothing to do with the crisp air. 

After all the progress Hood- Jason has been making lately.

Goddamn it

"Bat Girl on. What's going on?"

"Code Scarlet. I can't get a hold of B and Nightwing is too far out still." Her tone is brisk and efficient even where he can hear the cracks of worry beneath.

She rattles off the address of one of Hood's "office buildings". A reconstructed warehouse where he holds meetings with his people and houses kids when necessary.

"Where's Robin?" Tim asks. Steph and him are already on the way and B should be home by now but he doesn't want moving parts he doesn't know about.

"Someone delivered him to Hood."

Tim almost misses the stop in the swing he was taking. Batgirl shifts and with a strength she doesn't look like she has,pulls him with her to avoid him landing face first into a brick wall.

Shit.

"Please,hurry."