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There was some introspective quote that Tim couldn’t pull from the shelves in his brain, and the forgetfulness weighed down on his shoulders.
Adjusting the way he sat on the edge of a brick ledge, rolling his shoulders back to alleviate the weight, he sighed, the domino mask of his Red Robin uniform hiding his heavy, half-open eyes.
Maybe Tim could get coffee after this, unless his partner for the night-
“What’s wrong? You’re sighing,” the Red Hood’s voice came from a few feet to his right, also situated on the roof’s ledge. The tone in his voice wasn’t harsh; it was kind.
That was new. Jason seemed to be nicer to Tim now, easy going.
Or had he always been that way? Red Robin, master detective, couldn’t find that information on the shelves in his memory’s library. Forgotten.
Tim felt forgotten.
Why was his memory so foggy recently? It could’ve been the sleep deprivation, or the stress, maybe he was just focused on the tasks at hand… Maybe that was why he wasn’t the true Robin anymore, or-
“Tim,” His brother’s voice was closer, meaning it sounded louder than it was before. It got his attention: “Something’s wrong. We, uh, have nothing else to do, besides lookout, and I- no, I’ll listen, if you want.”
Jason sounded unsure.
It sounded as if he was genuinely asking Tim if he was alright, which somehow was even more confusing, throwing off the balance of the weight on his shoulders.
How had they ended up here, again?
…Right. Batman was paranoid that there would be a breakout or some large heist today, the 13th of the month, a Friday, and insisted there be vigilantes keeping watch that night and the night of.
Red Robin and Red Hood had been paired together to keep watch around Gotham University.
It was July 13th.
It was also three in the morning, and Tim had just realized that his birthday was in less than a week, no thanks to the reminder from the calendar that hung on his door.
He would be eighteen in six days, and no one had mentioned a thing to him, save for Conner, Bart, and Cassie, who had apparently been planning to be in the area, no- they had been planning to try their best to be on the planet that weekend, for months.
It was nice of them to think of him. They really didn’t need to, though- a simple card would be nice, he thought. Maybe just a text.
No one in the Wayne family had even vocalized the fact that it was going to be Tim’s birthday, though. It felt unusual, when the thought put into everyone else’s birthday felt astronomical in comparison.
For Bruce’s birthday, Damian had stressed for weeks about the correct gift to give to his father. For Stephanie, Cass had asked Tim and Duke to help plan out a party months in advance.
…Jason didn’t like birthdays. Everyone knew that.
But why did the thought of Tim’s own birthday sting now, then?
His birthday wasn’t for another six days, meaning Tim had no real reason to be upset.
Six days and nineteen hours. Eighteen and a half.
Would one hundred and sixty-two hours, give or take twenty-nine minutes, be enough for any plans to be made?
They could always celebrate his birthday after the fact- no, that would make Tim feel like hot garbage.
Bart would say that it would really make him feel ‘moded,’ that is.
Now that there was silence on his nighttime patrol, joined by his older brother, whom he spoke to the least in the past, but as of right now, probably the most, Tim reflected.
What was that quote?
Jason was saying something else.
Tim swallowed. “Shit, I’m sorry- zoned out, my bad,”
The red helmet tilted, before sitting straight again.
Jason’s half-gloved fingers reached up, and a hiss accompanied the helmet as his brother looked at him now, a domino mask reflecting his own. “I might not be your favorite person, but zoning out doesn’t really look the way you did, just now.”
No, Jason would probably call Tim stupid for feeling forgotten by the rest of the family.
Besides, right now probably wasn’t the best time or place for brotherly bonding- did Jason even consider them to be brothers?
On the inside, deep down, Tim hoped they were brothers.
He hoped, so painfully, that Jason Todd, the Robin that Tim had idolized, thought of him as a little brother.
The ages-old, pristine and practiced, faux smile smoothed its way over Tim’s expression. “I’m good, Jason. Don’t worry about me.”
If the white eye slits on a domino mask could narrow, Jason’s certainly did, as Tim’s heart rate picked up just the slightest bit in noticing.
Now wasn’t the time for lectures.
Bruce lectured Tim.
Alfred lectured Tim.
Dick lectured Tim.
Hell, even Damian lectured Tim.
At this point, anyone in the cursed Wayne family that didn’t lecture Tim quickly added themselves to his list of favorites, although his track record of keeping up with that list wasn’t… amazing. He just wasn’t good at talking to people, that was it.
Tim scanned the grounds in front of them for any activity. Jason chuckled next to him.
“I don’t really know how to go about any of this, but I guess now is the time. Hopefully this wasn’t Bruce’s idea,” the older brother started.
It was a lecture.
Tim felt his insides drop.
Jason was going to lecture Tim for zoning out and being forgetful and then his spot on Tim’s list of tolerable people would plummet… How wonderful.
The civillians walking on the Gotham streets became blurry in Tim’s vision.
Jason’s lecture would last, like, thirty minutes, tops. Tim could zone out and nod intermittently for thirty minutes, right?
He felt so confident in his ability to not listen, until Jason flipped the script entirely, and left Tim’s mouth feeling dry, and his throat was now holding all of the weight that his shoulders had surely been handling the second before.
“I’m sorry that I’ve treated you like shit. I had no reason to, Robin- Red Robin- Tim. I should’ve swallowed my pride and said something to you earlier, but I’m an asshole to anyone wearing a bird symbol, unless if your last name is a variation of Cain, apparently- wow, I’m talking a lot more than I expected- and I think we have a lot more in common than either of us realize. I meant to reach out to you last week. I was staring at my phone calendar, and wondering, um- do you have any plans for your birthday?”
Out of all of the Wayne children, Stephanie surely spoke the most, then Tim. If you got him started on a topic, Tim wouldn’t stop talking. He almost always had something to say- not a bad thing, but not the best.
Tim was speechless.
Did he have any plans for his birthday? Kon, Bart, and Cassie had reached out, but nothing was solid yet.
Somewhere in the distance, Jason kept talking, and Gotham University was still blurry in front of him.
“I mean, you don’t have to spend your birthday with me, we don’t have to create the Dead Robins Club, but I thought maybe it would be a cool apology? Roy and I were talking about you the other day, and I don’t know, you seem so.. Tired, right now. You could use some fun, or maybe just someone to talk to, but I’m probably wrong-”
“No,” Tim breathed, interrupting Jason’s spiraling thoughts.
“No..?” His older brother questioned. Jason’s hands rested on top of his red helmet, in his lap, but he held his left thumb in his right hand as he spoke, fidgeting slightly.
Tim had his hands on his knees the whole time, unmoving. It was unlike him to be still, when usually, he was the one fidgeting, not the other person in any situation.. Ever.
Taking a deep breath, Tim continued. “I didn’t realize you knew when my birthday was.”
His own voice felt millions of miles away. His thoughts were right, it was stupid.
For one of the first times that Tim had ever seen with his own eyes, Jason’s entire demeanor… softened.
Jason tilted his head again, and Tim couldn’t tell if he was actually frowning when he spoke. “Did you think I would forget?”
“Why would you care? It would take time out of your day,” Tim’s voice was laced with confusion.
Jason didn’t miss the subtle admission of Tim thinking that his own birthday was a waste of time.
He didn’t know the full story, no one did, but he understood enough of the message that not only were Tim’s parents huge assholes, and probably never celebrated a single birthday with their only kid, but he knew personally that Bruce wasn’t the best at emotions and normal human shit, the rest of the family only just slightly better.
Had they celebrated Tim’s birthday last year? Something in the back of Jason’s mind reminded him that he’d not been on good terms with Tim last year either, probably because of his numerous attempts on Tim’s life.
Shit- had anyone ever even been nice to the kid? Not a kid, at least, not in six days.
It was Jason’s turn to take in a deep breath, as he let the Red Hood persona fall to the wayside, domino mask still over his eyes. The soft voice that came through his own lips was one that Jason himself only saved for either children, or people he wanted to comfort. Tim definitely needed comfort.
“Of course I care, baby bird. You’ll be eighteen this year, and we can go knock some heads together. It makes it better because you won’t go to juvenile court if you end up in legal trouble,” Jason nudged his side lightly, jokingly.
“I can buy cigarettes,” Tim nodded, still stuck in his own thoughts. Jason probably only cared about his birthday because being a legal adult was more useful to his own motives.
Almost as if he were on a script, Jason slipped a red and white box out of one of his pockets, flipping the cardboard open, and sliding out two cigarettes into his hands. With the same hand, he reached up to hold one of the cigarettes between his lips, his other hand placing the box back into his pocket, before offering the other cigarette to Tim.
Jason let out another laugh.
It was almost four in the morning, now.
“You do not need to be eighteen to buy cigarettes. Drugs, surely, but it’s less stress for everyone if you ask someone else to do it when you can’t.” Jason seemed to magically have a lighter in hand already, inhaling from between his fingers, passing the red lighter to Tim.
He’d never smoked, or lit a cigarette, which probably went hand in hand. Jason also probably knew that.
“You’re a terrible influence,” Tim had finally said something with the slightest upturn of his lips.
Gotham University came back into his focus. Tim then attempted his very best first lighting of a cigarette, and did exactly what he assumed one does when inhaling the smoke from a cigarette.
Tim also tried not to think about the fact that he probably needed to be older than eighteen to buy cigarettes, but, hey, this was Gotham.
He waited a second, pressure building in his head, and exhaled.
Promptly, Tim started coughing.
Loudly.
There was the clap of a hand on his back, more chuckling, and the feeling of Jason rubbing his gloved hand between Tim’s shoulders.
“I know, I know. You’re alright, little brother. Smoke never killed anybody, and I won’t tell anyone that you have absolutely no idea how to have a good time with substances.” Jason’s tone was light- warm, it made Tim feel a little more alive, and a little more awake.
So Tim laughed too, the death stick still in his fingers, taking another drag of the thing, shaking his head after.
Bruce would probably kill the two of them if he knew that Jason and Tim spent their night watch sharing a smoke break and laughing.
Jason shook his head, too.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Tim realized.
“Yep. You’re right, though. Old man couldn't stomach the thought of us being friends, so he paired us together.”
Something clicked in Tim’s head, maybe for the first time. “Are we friends, Jason?”
On his own turn, Jason let out a small cough, from a choked laugh. “I just called you my little brother to your face for the first time since we’ve met, Tim. We can be friends, or the founders of the Dead Robins Club!”
Jason spread his free hand out as he announced the Dead Robins Club, and Tim did actually laugh. Maybe it would be nice to be friends with Jason.
Everything else seemed to click, too. And he still couldn’t remember that damn quote.
The cigarette burned between his fingers as he inhaled again.
“I didn’t actually die, you know,” Tim pointed out.
Jason scoffed. “Did you need to try to ruin the moment? We’re good, Tim. If Bruce Wayne cried over you dying, you died. Even if you didn’t truly die. If he went through his whole song and dance, that’s probably as good as it gets. Take the damn membership card, alright?”
Then, Jason literally pressed a white card into Tim’s free hand, which Tim then flipped over to read.
Timothy Drake
Dead Robins Club
Gotham City
Earth
“That is ridiculous. Actually, no. This is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Pray tell, Jason, why the hell do you have this? And why do I feel like you have Mary Poppins pockets? You keep pulling random shit out of thin air!” A real, genuine smile was on Tim’s face now, knocking his domino mask from its normal spot, as Tim pocketed the ‘business’ card, and fixed his mask over his eyes again.
Jason shrugged. “I thought it would be funny. Or I thought about replacing your Wayne Enterprises business cards, until I realized they’d finally convinced you to not be CEO anymore- they, being Stephanie. I thanked her personally for preventing yourself from destrution.”
There Tim was, speechless, again.
None of this felt like it was actually happening. Maybe this was a dream.
Jason cared about him. His older brother cared about him.
And, look! Tim had even joined a club.
Over the course of an hour, Jason had apologized to Tim, for which now Tim could feel watering in his eyes- which could also have been from his lungs rejecting cigarette smoke, from which he probably had ashes on his uniform, now- and they were talking. Jason also knew when Tim’s birthday was.
“Your birthday is in a month,” Tim stated.
His older brother nodded. “I don’t call you the smartest Robin for nothing.”
Wait.
“You called me the smartest Robin?”
Disbelief had flashed across Tim’s entire demeanor. His shoulders broke their posture, and Tim leaned closer to listen to Jason.
“Well, yeah, kid. You single-handedly patched the whole family together, and admittedly it feels like no one ever thanked you- am I supposed to thank you? I don’t know, apologizing is also a lot to process. You’re pretty damn smart, for what it’s worth hearing from me.”
For Tim, it was worth the world.
There was a new weight on his shoulders tonight. Jason rested his arms on Tim’s shoulders, nudging him again. “You’re alright, Tim. I decided I was a little done with tormenting you, ‘cause you’re really not half bad.”
Tim swallowed. Here goes nothing.
“I don’t think anyone else knows that it’s my birthday,” he admitted. “Everyone else is always planning in advance, and I’m like seventy-percent sure Bruce has me on a recon assignment next weekend, too. It makes me feel like shit,”
The last of his cigarette had burnt out, flicked onto the bricks around them. So had Jason’s.
“Are you serious?” Jason asked. Wrong answer, he realized, and spoke again, “No- like, are you being real? They’re really acting like that? Holy bat crap, they really are the scum of the earth.”
Jason wasn’t really sure what it was, but suddenly, he saw a lot more of himself in Tim than he ever expected. It hurt in his chest. “I’m sorry, Tim. I know they can all be huge assholes.”
Tim shook his head.
Wow, he still felt like a huge idiot.
“It isn’t even all of that- I just- there’s nothing big they need to do, maybe just ask me if I have plans, like you did, or ask if I wanted to have dinner, or not schedule me on a recon assignment that day. Kon, Bart, and Cassie are trying to all be around for it, but that’s different. They love me, you know? Even when we don’t talk, we don’t need to be reminded. I know their birthdays, I remember their parent’s birthdays. I even sent the Kents a bouquet of flowers for their anniversary, I knew Kon was at dinner with- it doesn’t matter,”
Tim managed to suck in another gulp of air.
“Why don’t I feel like they love me, Jay? It isn’t anything important, it’s just a birthday.”
Silence followed Tim’s long-awaited explanation.
Jason wondered if Tim could hear his heart shattering into a million little pieces.
He nodded. “That’s not stupid, Tim. You’re important, you know. I remembered your birthday,”
The younger brother sighed, “That’s different, you’re-”
“I’m what?” Jason asked. “None of that, Tim. You love your friends, they love you. I love you too, Tim. Every time I find some software that I realize you designed, I remember that I love you. You’re my genius little brother, and no one in this family takes even a second to thank you for being the glue that holds us all together. Shit, kid. I wasn’t even actually, properly nice to you, until right now. You know I’m actually not always a huge asshole to everyone around me? It surprises me too, but turns out, the Wayne family will do that to you.”
“I hate talking about my feelings.” Tim choked out, tears welling in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly.
Jason reached to mess with Tim’s hair slightly. “Try that answer again, Tim. It's alright. I’ll listen,”
Red Robin chuckled, just the tiniest bit. “I love you too, Jason.”
“And you don’t forgive me for trying to kill you. Say it,” Red Hood tried.
Tim tilted his head. “And, I.. do not forgive you for trying to kill me?”
“Because you will not let someone do that again,” Jason nodded encouragingly.
“Because I will not let anyone try to kill me again,”
Tim stared at his older brother, speaking again after a moment of quiet. “Why do you have somewhat alright communication skills?”
Jason shrugged, a smug smile across his lips. His arm was still on Tim’s shoulder.
“Welcome to the Dead Robins Club, little brother. We die and then we talk about it, that’s what we do- our motto, in fact,”
Slipping the helmet on again, Jason watched as Tim actually laughed again at what he had said.
Their comms beeped, signaling that it was nearly five, and time to rotate locations.
Tim didn’t want this moment to end.
“So… we’re good now? Something like that?” Tim asked, cautiously.
Jason was standing now, already holding out a hand to help Tim up from the ledge. He knew Tim probably didn’t even need the help, could backflip up to standing, but it didn’t matter, so Jason reached an arm out for his little brother.
And at the end of the night, Batman was paranoid.
Zero criminal activity had happened tonight. That was a first.
And another first:
“Oh yeah, Timmy. You and I? We’re good. You can’t get rid of me now, actually.”
Tim shrugged at Jason’s response.
“Fine by me,” a small smile played on his lips.
The two readied their grappling hooks.
“Oh, and Tim?”
“Yeah, Jason?”
“Happy Birthday.”
They shot off into the end of the night, both Red vigilantes laughing to themselves about quite possibly the most positive, and most secret family moment they’d ever had.
And, Tim had just received possibly his favorite birthday gift ever.
His childhood hero had just admitted they were friends.
Brothers.
That was more than he could ever even wish on a blown-out birthday candle for.