Work Text:
When Jason meets Batman, he is truly terrified. And yeah, he hides it well, because if there’s one thing Jason has experience with, it’s being terrified. But he’s sure he’s going to die, and that that death with be painful. He’s so terrified, in fact, that it never quite hits him that he’s talking to BATMAN, that he’s face to face with Gotham’s greatest legend.
When he meets Nightwing, though? Well, he gets a little starstruck.
xxx
“Dick is worried about you,” Tim says one day, and it must be bad, because Tim still rarely starts any conversation with Jason if he doesn’t have to.
“Well, Dick can go suck a-“ Jason stops himself. The insult had started while he was in the middle of biting a cheeseburger, which meant that he hadn’t been giving it his usual level of craftsmanship. From across the room, Stephanie snorts. He pointedly doesn’t look at her.
Tim stares at him blankly. “No, please, finish the sentence. It sounded like it was going to be really original,” he says, completely deadpan, and Jason rolls his eyes and grunts.
Tim doesn’t react. “Normally in a conversation, this is where someone would say ‘what’s he worried about?’ But I can tell you’re not going to do that, so I’ll do it for you.” He pitches his voice to a comedically raspy voice. “‘What’s Dick so worried about?’” He goes back up to his normal pitch. “Well, he’s kind of upset about the whole getting shot and having split identities and suddenly being open to talking to Bruce thing despite the fact that you’re being weird as hell with us thing.”
Jason flexes his hand. “Nothing between me and Dick is any of your goddamn business.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Tim says. “But he’s being fucking moody. I’d say you are too, but that’s just how you operate. So, I don’t know. Fix it.”
Jason stands up, but the movement hasn’t even been completed when Stephanie says: “Rookie mistake, Tim, you can’t ever try to confront Jason when he’s in a room with a doorway. You gotta get him somewhere he can’t walk out of, like a car or a very high rooftop.” Jason sits back down, just to prove her wrong. She gives him a self satisfied smirk.
“There’s nothing to fix,” Jason growls. As an act of petty revenge for having to stay in this conversation, he reaches across the table and grabs all of Tim’s fries. (The burgers had been Stephanie’s idea, a reward after a night of patrolling, as if they don’t do that every night now).
“Really? Because he’s moping all over the place and you won’t look him in the eyes.”
Jason stares at him. After a moment, he smiles mockingly. “Aw, Tim, I forgot you weren’t here. That’s exactly how it’s always been.”
xxx
When Jason first comes to the family, Dick is not thrilled about a new brunet with blue eyes running around in his old uniform. (Years later, Jason will look at Tim and realize that, all things considered, Dick actually handled Jason’s presence better than Jason would have had the grace to. At the time, though, Jason can’t imagine that one day he’ll be replaced, too.) Dick and Bruce are fighting constantly, and Jason has a penchant for agreeing with Bruce that even Jason knows is a little too much.
So Dick isn’t very interested in knowing Jason, but Jason is too in awe to be frustrated (at least in the beginning). Because Dick…well, he’s Robin.
Jason’s been hearing about The Bat and That Goddamn Kid for years now, and he’s always wondered what it must feel like, to just be a kid and to have all those people be afraid of you, to just be a kid and still be able to make things good.
When he meets Dick, Dick is no longer just a kid—he’s in college, and he’s the size of a grown man, and he’s not the way Jason’s imagined him, and he looks at Jason sometimes like he hopes Jason walks out of the Manor and never comes back.
Jason doesn’t really mind, though. Because he gets to be brothers with Robin.
xxx
Tim doesn’t let it go. This is predictable—Tim is nothing if not a persistent little fuck.
Dick keeps avoiding speaking to Jason, and so Tim keeps showing up at random, making demands and seemingly seconds away from pulling out a self help book.
“You need to ask Dick why he’s upset,” Tim says one night when they’re supposed to be studying shipping patterns for something Oracle’s looking into.
“Fuck off.”
“No. He’s holing up in Bludhaven even more than usual, and we need him. And when he’s here, we need him to fully functioning, and he’s not doing that anymore whenever you’re in the room.”
“Then I’ll just leave the room,” Jason grits out.
“Don’t make me say it,” Tim says, an equal grit to his voice, and Jason squints. He has no idea what Tim’s talking about, but he hates letting Tim know he has the upper hand in any conversation in any conceivable way.
Tim sighs. “Fine. We need Hood, too, Jason. We need both of you to be fully functioning.”
Jason is so intent on not looking surprised that he forgets to respond for a fully twenty seconds. “Then it sounds like all of your problems are with Dick, not me. Because I’m fine. Tell him to get his shit together, not me.”
Tim huffs. “I’m obviously doing that already. I’m just telling you he’s not gonna talk to anyone who’s not you.”
Jason is resisting the urge to either kick Tim in the face or just storm out of the room. (It was intentional on Stephanie’s part, he knows that it was, to trap him into having to stay in a room when he’s being confronted to avoid being seen as predictable. The girl’s a goddamn menace.) If Jason was Dick or Stephanie or Barbara, he’s have the decency to say something here, like ‘why is this so important to you?’ Or ‘you’re not going to be able to fix this, Tim, you can’t fix something that was born broken.’
Instead, though, he just sits and silently fumes. Tim looks at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Damn, Steph really did a number on you, huh? I’m gonna have to start paying her a consulting fee.”
xxx
When Jason starts training to be Robin, one thing is immediately clear. He’s not Dick. Because Dick was born to be Robin, and Jason… well, Jason’s not sure what he was born to be. But it wasn’t this.
He keeps waiting for Batman to fire him, for Bruce to undo the adoption. Because Jason KNOWS what Dick was like as Robin—knows that Dick was light in his feet and could flip and backflip and practically fly, and Jason can’t do any of it. He never learned to be like that; he only learned to give a punch and to take a punch and to never show pain, not ever.
He tries not to let on that it bothers him. Tries not to show weakness, because adults hate that. But he can hardly stand it—going to training every day, waiting for Batman to tell him that he’s shit and that this isn’t going to work out, after all. Waiting for someone to point out that he can never be Robin, that Dick will always be Robin, that Jason’s stupid for trying.
Dick comes home from college one weekend and is in a decent enough mood to spar with Batman while Jason watches. Batman says it will be good for Jason to see how their fighting styles play out in a real spar, and Jason tries not to show that seeing Batman and Robin actually fight has been a dream of his since he was a kid hearing stories.
Dick can hold his own against Batman, is the thing. And when they fight, he’s different than Batman, in a way that Jason can’t even fathom being. He’s light on his feet and he’s uncatchable and he’s basically dancing and he’s PERFECT. Dick is everything Jason always wanted to be and Dick is everything Jason can’t be.
“When did Batman teach you to do all of that? All of the flips and stuff?” he asks Dick quietly, and Dick looks offended.
“Bruce didn’t teach me any of that,” Dick says, sounding a little angry.
Jason nods. Bruce can’t teach him to be Dick. He’ll never be Dick. He’s just not good enough.
xxx
Red Robin shows up in one of Jason’s safe houses when Jason is supposed to be taking the night off. (He’s not taking the night off, obviously, because he had Red Hood shit to do, but the Bats don’t know that. He’s just trying to stitch up a wayward cut on his arm when Red Robin appears in the window like some kind of demented vampire.) (Red Robin is like Dick, is the thing. He’s quiet and sneaky and just APPEARS places with no warning. Batman obviously trained him to be Dick 2.0, after the failed experiment that was Jason. No one talks about it. It’s obvious, though.)
“What the fuck, Red?” Jason hisses, still trying to finish off his stitches. It’s harder to do one handed than it should be.
Tim tilts his head curiously, and then quietly steps into the room. “Dick’s in town,” he says casually. “Babs called him. She’s cooking something pretty big—you’ll be getting called in soon.” He stares at Jason, and then says, in a voice that he rarely uses around Jason, “Dude, just let me do that.”
Jason glares at him. “I’ve got this.”
“I know,” Tim says softly. “Just… it’ll be easier for me to do it.”
Jason wants to say no. He has this under control. But his hand is cramping up and he needs to get back out there and this will be faster, so he silently nods. Tim nods, for once not saying anything, and goes to wash his hands.
They’re both quiet as Tim goes through the process of stitching Jason’s skin back together, his stitches much more even and his hands more gentle than Jason’s have ever been.
After Tim finishes and ties and cuts the thread, he says again: “Dick’s in town.” He sighs. “I think you should talk to him.”
“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Jason says, but he can’t find the energy to make it sound angry. He stands slowly and starts to get ready to go out again.
“Just ask him what’s wrong,” Tim says. “He’s upset. Just-“
“Look, Tim, I’m gonna throw you a freebie. This is who Dick is, okay? He’s always upset with me. There is not a conversation on earth we could have that would—“
“I don’t think he’s upset with you,” Tim cuts in. “I think he’s worried about you. It’s different. And I think… I think he thinks something is super fucked up, and honestly? I don’t think it is. And I think you need to be the one to tell him that.”
“And what if it is fucked up?” Jason says without thinking, hand ghosting over the stitches Tim had just placed. “What then? What’s your big plan then? I mean…why do you even give a fuck, Tim?”
Tim blinks at him. He’s still got the domino mask on, and it’s so easy to imagine him as Robin, as some perfect little kid with black hair and blue eyes who laughs while he roundhouse kicks a goon in the face. Jason hates him. Finally, Tim says, in a voice that is bordering on mean, “you’re an asshole, Jason. I just want you and Dick to be able to be in a room together, okay? You’re his fucking brother. I want—you shouldn’t be doing your own stitches, man. Not when we’re all here. Figure your shit out with Dick. I’m getting sick of trying to monitor you on your nights off.”
xxx
When Dick and Bruce go out to dinner before Dick heads back to college, Jason starts packing up his stuff. It’s a little terrifying, how much stuff he’s accumulated in his time in the Manor. He has too many clothes now, too many shoes for one person. Too many books. He realizes that his life will no longer fit in a single backpack, a problem he hasn’t had in years. Dejectedly, he starts sorting things into two piles: bare essentials and things he doesn’t needed. (Seeing how large the second pile is strikes a very specific fear in him: Bruce has spent so much money on him. He’ll be mad at him, won’t he? That he spent all this money on someone who didn’t even deserve it?)
“Master Jason,” Alfred says calmly from the doorway, “it’s time for dinner. I’ve prepared one of your favorites, tortellini soup with— well, Master Jason, what are you doing?”
“I’m packing,” Jason says, doing a much better job of keeping his voice steady than he thought possible.
“Oh? And are you going on a trip soon?”
“Tonight,” Jason explains. “When Bruce gets back. He’s going to ask me to leave.”
Alfred is silent for a moment. He clears his throat. “To leave?”
Jason nods. “He- I’m not good enough to be Robin. I’m… that’s what he and Dick are going to talk about at dinner. And I- I want to be ready to leave. When he asks me too. So that he doesn’t have to wait.”
Alfred looks sad, and Jason feels a little relieved, even though he shouldn’t. He’ll miss Alfred, more than is fair, and he selfishly likes the idea that Alfred will miss him, too.
“Master Jason, I- Jason. I am confident none of what you have said will come to pass. You will never be asked to leave your home.”
Jason can’t help it—he tears up. He sniffs violently, trying to hold it all in. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t been at training, Alfred. I’m…I’m a really bad Robin. I’m not like Dick at all.”
“Oh, Jason,” Alfred says, and he comes in the room, something he and Bruce rarely do. He places a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “We have never wanted you to be Dick. We have only ever wanted you to be Jason.”
xxx
For once, Jason is the one cornering someone else into a conversation. He’s only able to do it through the element of surprise: he shows up at the Manor during daylight, which is shocking enough that Dick doesn’t even try to leave.
He finds Dick in the library. He thinks about making a joke about how he didn’t even know Dick could read or about how Bruce doesn’t keep coloring books stocked, but instead he just says outright: “Tim’s not going to leave me alone, and I’m tired of getting stalked even more than usual, so this is me asking: what the fuck is up with you?”
Dick smiles, not quite looking Jason in the eyes. “Don’t hold it against him, okay? He’s a natural born stalker. Old habits die hard for that kid.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jason says. “He’s a little creep. Now answer the question.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been even pissier than usual,” Jason says with a grunt, settling down into a chair with his legs thrown over the side, “and Tim says it’s because of me.”
“It’s not BECAUSE of you,” Dick says, sounding wounded. He flops onto a couch, shifting until his head is hanging upside down. “It’s BECAUSE of Bruce.”
“Oh,” says Jason, “in that case, will you tell your mini me to back off?”
Dick attempts a shrug. “Well, it’s ABOUT you.”
Jason sighs. “Of course it fucking is.” He kicks his legs for a second. When was the last time he and Dick were alone in this library together? Was it… was it before? Did they ever do this, even then? They never lived in this house together. Dick was always the ghost that haunted Jason, the person in the house who rarely actually appeared. “So what did I do this time?”
“You and Bruce are awfully fucking chummy now,” Dick says. “And you and Steph, actually, but that’s something else. I don’t…man, why are you so fine with Bruce right now?”
Jason stares at him. He clenches his jaw. “What the fuck? You guys were on me for- for YEARS, Dick, telling me to be on good terms with B, and now— what, I’m not trying to kill any of you anymore and that’s…THAT’S what you’re pissed about?”
Dick stares at the ceiling. “No. Shut up. It’s not… you don’t talk to any of us, Jay. We don’t know if you’re okay or not. Ever. And now you’re talking to someone, and it’s… it’s Bruce? The person who- he’s the REASON you don’t tell us if you’re okay or not.”
Jason laughs— a quick, loud, bark of a laugh. Dick glares at him, but the effect is undercut by the fact that he’s still upside down. “THAT’S what you’ve been bitching about? JESUS, Dick! You know, you’re still the fucking same? You’re so up your own ass that you think everyone is as traumatized by Bruce as you.” Jason snorts. “Shocker, buddy. I’m allowed to have shit from things that aren’t Batman. Holy shit.”
“Oh, SHUT UP,” Dick snaps, rolling into a sitting position. “You can’t bitch about Bruce for two years straight—and literally become a murderer about it—and then act like I’M being close minded.”
“You don’t get to do this,” Jason snaps back. “You don’t get to act like I’m betraying you somehow, likes it’s supposed to be me and you against Bruce. It’s literally never been that.”
“Of course it’s been that,” Dick says, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re my fucking brother-“
“Since WHEN?” Jason is yelling now. “You didn’t want me! You just- you only came home to prove that I shouldn’t be Robin!”
“What the FUCK are you talk-“
“You’re so fucking- we weren’t brothers! I was never good enough for you, and look, you got the brother you wanted, didn’t you? You’ve got your little clone running around, don’t you? So why are you acting like…” he runs out of words mid sentence. Dick is staring at him with his mouth a little open, and some awful emotion is playing out on Dick’s face.
“…what?” Dick whispers finally, and Jason is terrified to realize all the anger has bled out.
“I don’t…I talk to Bruce sometimes. Don’t…don’t make that…I thought that was supposed to be a GOOD thing, Dick. I can’t…it’s like ever since I was a kid, I could never get both of you to be happy with me at the same time.” He stands up. “And at least I always know what Bruce is upset about.”
xxx
Alfred must tell Bruce that Jason is packing, because Bruce doesn’t even say anything when he sees the backpack and piles of clothes. He just breathes slowly through his nose, and then says: “let’s go down to the cave, Jay.”
It makes sense, of course, that they’d need to be in the cave for Batman to tell Jason he couldn’t be Robin. Jason can’t help it—he walks slower than he should, stays a little bit too far behind Batman. He doesn’t want this to happen, even if it’s inevitable.
When they get down to the cave, they go to the training mat. Wordlessly, Batman plants himself on the mat, and Jason takes his place opposite of him. (Earlier, when Dick had been here, he’d looked brilliant. Jason just feels small, though.)
“Show me a roundhouse kick,” Batman says, and Jason does. Batman nods. “Again.” Once he has, Batman continues. “Jab. Overhand. Front kick. Back kick. Undercut.” Jason works through the motions, warning a nod each time. After five minutes, before Jason’s even really sweating, Batman says softly: “enough.”
Batman sits down on the mat, cross legged, looking very much unlike the terror of Gotham. He pats the space next to him, and Jason sits, steeling himself. This is where it happens, then.
Batman doesn’t say anything, though, doesn’t tell him he’s bad or stupid or anything mean. They just sit.
“Do you know what the hardest thing to teach Dick was?” Batman asks quietly, and Jason starts.
He shakes his head.
“How to plant his feet. He could land anything, of course, but he didn’t know how to stop moving when it mattered. He was so focused on the next movement that his hits didn’t have the impact they should.”
Jason is shaking a little. “Do you think I should move more? I can. I’ll learn. I’ll-“
“No, Jay.” Batman sighs, and he sounds sad. “I’m saying that it took me months to teach Dick something that comes naturally to you. You are not a trained gymnast, Jason. I would never hold that against you. You have your own strengths.”
“But my strengths aren’t as good,” Jason mumbles. “As Dick’s. You wanted me to be Robin, and Dick is Robin, and I can’t… I can’t be him. He’s way better than me. And… I want to be Robin. I do.”
“And you are,” Batman replies. “I asked you to be Robin, Jason. I never asked you to be Dick. I never will.”
Jason sniffs. “What if I’m a bad Robin?”
“You won’t be,” Batman responds with easy confidence. “And even if you were, it wouldn’t matter.” He puts a hand on Jason’s back. “Because you’d still be my son.”
xxx
“So, you talked to Dick and made it a hundred times worse, so I guess I learned my lesson.” Tim and Hood are on an Oracle sanctioned stakeout, and it takes Tim a full two hours to admit this.
Jason nods. “I fucking told you, Tim.”
“Yeah, yeah. I thought you were being dramatic.”
“That’s because any description of Dick is naturally over dramatic, because the man is a walking Shakespeare character.”
“Yeah. Maybe. Do you know why he’s upset?”
“He told me.” Jason doesn’t elaborate. Tim doesn’t press.
After a moment, Tim says: “he never got over you. When you died. Everyone knows it nearly killed B, but… Dick almost didn’t make it. He… it was really fucking bad.”
“Boo hoo,” Jason responds. “I was dead. I’m sick of being asked to feel sorry for the people who didn’t die.”
“I’m not asking you to feel bad for him,” Tim responds. “I’m saying that… I thought he wouldn’t give a shit about me when I became Robin. But he did. Because… I know it annoys you that me and him get along. But we only get along because he was terrified I’d die.”
“Must be nice,” Jason snaps.
“It was, actually,” Tim snaps back. “That’s what I’m saying. I got some version of Dick you didn’t have, but you’re the reason that version of Dick existed, and I think that’s… I shouldn’t have tried to fix you guys. But I want…” he trails off.
Jason is grateful for the helmet, because Tim can’t see the way he’s staring. “You want WHAT, Red?”
“I don’t know,” Tim responds. “When I was a kid, all I wanted to be was you. Now I just want you to stay alive. This time.”
Jason does not have a single thought in his brain. “You wanted to be me? You wanted to be Robin? You GOT that-“
“No, J. I wanted to be YOU. You were my Robin. I got trained by Dick, so— I don’t know.” Tim taps at his knee. “Look, I messed up. I don’t get you and Dick. Whatever. Here’s what I’m asking: let me know next time you need stitches, okay?”
Jason feels like he should be screaming or yelling or stalking away, but instead he just nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
xxx
The Monday morning after Batman promises he won’t ever kick Jason out, Jason wakes up to Dick knocking on his door, crowing out: “Rise and shine, baby bird!”
“What do you want?” Jason asks, opening the door. Dick isn’t supposed to be here; he’s supposed to be at college.
Dick is wide awake and beaming. “Listen, I’m bored as hell. And I was thinking—look, do you want to learn how to do a round off handspring? Sounds silly, looks sick.”
Jason doesn’t say anything, and Dick sighs and turns to go.
“Okay, it’s fine, I just thought that-“
“Wait! I do want to,” Jason says, clearing his throat.
Dick smiles. “Okay then, Little Wing. Let’s go.”