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Sometimes, Dick wondered if Alfred was secretly a meta human with the power of persuasion because nobody else could get him to come back to Wayne Manor for family dinner. He’d been roped into a couple, and had gone happily enough despite the tension with Bruce, but then the new kid came along and well… Dick knew where he wasn’t wanted.
He’d thrown himself into working with the Titans, his new family, and occasionally into bed with Kori (who wouldn’t ?), and did his very best to forget about Gotham and bats and birds.
Jason made that difficult. For whatever reason, the boy had been desperate to spend time with Dick for the first few months after he was picked up off the streets. He just kept showing up, wearing Dick’s old costume and grinning like a madman and talking non stop. After being turned away at the door to Titans Tower for the fifth consecutive time, he’d gotten the message and Dick hadn’t seen him since.
But apparently word of this had gotten back to Alfred and Dick received a phone call, the gist of which essentially was come for one dinner and bond with your brother or you’re grounded until eternity.
So Dick, an adult man with adult responsibilities , was now stood on the Manor front steps wondering just how that tactic had worked.
Alfred answered the door with his usual warm smile. "Master Richard. So glad you took my offer."
"Can’t say no to you, Alfred," Dick said as he stepped inside.
Alfred just smiled knowingly and led Dick into the kitchen. There was a familiar homey smell in the air, and a bowl of what looked like brownie batter on the side. Dick made a beeline and stuck his finger in it while Alfred was distracted.
"I hope you don’t mind, Master Richard, but I do have one favour to ask you," Alfred said as he turned around.
"Shoot."
"Could you please track down Master Jason?"
Dick paused what he was doing and frowned. "Huh?"
Alfred pressed his lips into a thin, disapproving line and Dick placed his now sticky hands behind his back. "Nobody has seen him since he returned from school, in quite a state too. I am asking you to use your detective skills to find him and inform him that dinner is ready," he said crisply. "I’d ask Master Bruce but he is busy downstairs."
AKA he was too busy Batman-ing to look after his own son. That checked out.
Dick wiped his hands on his shirt and nodded. "Do you know where he is?"
Alfred inhaled deeply. "I assure you Master Richard that if I did I would not be asking for your assistance."
Dick nodded sheepishly. "Right yeah, obviously. I’ll go look for him."
"Thank you. And please wash your hands on your way."
He nodded and left the kitchen to wander the halls, only stopping quickly in the downstairs bathroom to scrub his hands before continuing. He first checked Jason’s room, which he realised with a pang was right next to his. There was a piece of paper on the door with Jason written on it in messy handwriting with bright red marker. Dick smiled. He’d once had a similar sign, just to stop him getting lost.
He knocked twice, and when there was no response dared to push the door open a crack. There was no Jason in sight, just his surprisingly clean bedroom. He didn’t seem to have many belongings in there yet, just a bookshelf, desk, dresser, and bed. There was a tattered poster for some rock band on the wall and that was it as far as decorations went.
Dick felt weird prying, so he closed the door and continued searching the manor. He didn’t find Jason in any of the living rooms, bathrooms, libraries, or guest bedrooms, and was feeling throughly defeated. He knew the kid would be slippery, you have to be to survive on Gotham’s streets for as long as Jason had, but Jesus.
The only other place Dick could imagine Jason running off to was either Bruce’s office to sit with him, or Bruce’s bedroom to hide and Dick was not going near either with a ten foot pole.
He could sit through one dinner but he didn’t need to see Bruce and his new son having a sweet little bonding moment.
Dick was just about to go back to the kitchen and pray Jason had materialised down there so he wouldn’t have to face Alfred’s disappointment, when he noticed the attic door slightly ajar.
He wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever been in the attic in the ten years he’d lived in the Manor, but frankly he was all out of options with no choice other than to enter for the first time today. The ladder was a little rickety but it held and Dick pulled himself up into the room.
The attic was dusty and he coughed a couple times, but not enough to entirely cover up the sound of electronic beeping in the far left corner. He followed it, picking his way through boxes of holiday decorations, and old family portraits, and even a couch. It would be fun to poke around up there properly when he didn’t have an extremely skittish kid to find.
Maybe that wasn’t quite the right way to describe Jason. He wasn’t really shy, in fact he was precocious bordering on mouthy, and he was, much to Dick’s chagrin, making a pretty good Robin.
Flighty was probably a better way to describe him. He’d shut down and hide at the slightest source of conflict. From what Dick had heard about his childhood, it was understandable.
Eventually he found the source of the game noises, an old table with a dusty sheet draped over it. Dick crouched down and lifted the corner, only for it to be snatched out of his hand and fixed back into place.
"Go away Bruce, I ain’t talking to you," Jason said hotly.
"Not Bruce," Dick replied, trying not to be offended by the mistake as Jason lifted the sheet to examine him. "Just me."
"Yeah," Jason agreed, almost bitterly. "Just you."
It was like he wanted Bruce to come looking for him, despite his insistence he wasn’t talking to him. That’s another thing about Jason; confusingly and conflictingly over emotional.
He was curled up under the table, Nintendo 3DS in hand and an empty candy wrapper in front of him. He hid it quickly, a slight blush on his cheeks, when he realised that Dick had noticed.
"I’m not gonna tell Alfred you were eating candy before dinner, Jason," Dick said calmly. It would be hypocritical of him, in all honesty.
"What do you want, Dickhead?" Jason asked, but there was none of its usual venom behind it. He almost sounded relieved.
Dick wasn’t quite sure how to answer, so he responded with another question. "Can I come in?"
Jason sniffed and moved back to make room. "Free country."
Dick shuffled under the table, it wasn’t actually that tight a squeeze, and fixed the sheet back in place to give them some privacy.
Jason just stared at him with round blue eyes, Nintendo clutched loosely in his hand and teeth bared slightly. It was made all the less intimidating by his brand new braces that were, honestly, direly needed. He was aware Crime Alley wasn’t known for his dentistry, but Dick was pretty sure that if they left Jason with teeth that crooked it would’ve been some form of child neglect. He was slightly disappointed he hadn’t gotten colourful bands, it probably would’ve made him look downright adorable.
On second thought, maybe it was for the best. Jason had a way of getting people to relent to him somehow, he didn’t need any more help there.
"What are you playing?" Dick asked.
Jason frowned suspiciously. God this kid was always on edge, even about the smallest things. It was equal parts irritating and heartbreaking.
"Pokémon," he said eventually. "Why do you care?"
"I used to play video games all the time," Dick shrugged. "Never played Pokémon before."
"I used to collect the cards," Jason said, voice coming close to fondly nostalgic. "Well I’d steal them, but same difference."
Dick didn’t bother correcting him, he wasn’t going to get pedantic when Jason was close to opening up. "Maybe you can show me sometime."
"Don’t matter. Lost them all when I ended up on the streets, didn’t I? This is nice too, though," he held up the console. "Maybe better."
"You know I think I have an old PlayStation somewhere that you can have," Dick said with a smile. "I’ll bring it over, just say the word."
Jason swallowed. "Really?"
"Yeah, it’s not like I ever use it on my own. And you can co-op," Dick explained. "We could play some games together from time to time."
He knew that Jason didn’t like accepting things for himself, so he hoped that by presenting it as a bonding opportunity would help.
It did. "If you don’t mind I guess that could be fun."
"It will be. I’ll bring it over next family dinner."
Jason snorted at the phrasing. "We ain’t family, dickhead, you made that pretty clear. Don’t even know your middle name."
He had a point. Dick had been distancing himself from Bruce, and he didn’t regret that, but Jason was just a kid. He hadn’t really stopped to consider how he might have felt about his apparent big brother just ignoring him.
"John," he said after a moment. "That’s my name, Richard John Grayson."
Jason almost smiled. That seemed as close as the kid got most days. Or at least most days when Dick was around. He’d heard from Alfred he was actually a very pleasant child. "Jason Peter Todd," he replied.
Dick held out a hand. "Nice to meet you JP."
"Don’t call me that," Jason said firmly, but he shook his hand anyway. "Nobody’s called me that since my dad went to prison."
Dick frowned. "What can I call you? Jace? Jay?"
He could see Jason warming up to the idea by the second. His face remained a light scowl, but his eyes gave everything away. It was a youthful thing. Dick had been the same way once upon a time, in fact he was probably much more obvious. He’d never had to protect himself the same way Jason did.
"Fine, if you’ve gotta," Jason grumbled eventually.
"I do gotta," Dick confirmed. "And I will."
Jason looked away but he was smiling. They were silent for a moment, but not uncomfortably so like it might have been not too long ago.
"Who sent you after me?" Jason asked after a moment.
"Alfred. He said you’d seemed upset after school."
Jason puffed up like an irritated cat, shoulders rising up to his ears. "None of his business."
"Jay," Dick said softly, and his shoulders slumped slightly at the nickname. "He cares about you. So does Bruce. And so do I."
Even he was surprised by how true it was. He really hadn’t planned on being big brother, but here he was.
"And I’m sorry I haven’t been here very much," he continued, fiddling with the cuff of his jeans. "Things have been complicated."
Jason sniffed. "S’fine. Nobody ever sticks around."
"That’s not fair to say."
"Isn’t it? My dad’s in prison, probably dead but I’m not gonna know that, my mother…" Jason’s voice softened and he blinked quickly. "Well she left too."
"Jason she died, she didn’t leave you," Dick said gently.
"She wasn’t really there for a long time before that," he explained quietly. Then he shook his head. "Point is, I can deal with my own shit at school."
Dick tilted his head. "Is someone giving you crap?"
Jason actually laughed. "Duh. Its a school full of fucking rich kids who speak like they’ve got an olive in their mouth. I wasn’t ever gonna fit in there, was I?"
"Right," Dick agreed, feeling a little stupid for even asking. "Let me guess, you get called a charity case?"
"Yeah. You got the same?"
He nodded. "I could barely read or write in English. Speaking was easier but I had more of an accent than I do now. And being Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham’s kid thrusts you into the spotlight."
"I hate it," Jason said sourly. "All of it. All of them."
Dick leant back against a table leg and tucked his knee to his chest. Jason reminded him of himself when he was younger, and full of so much rage he had to wear bright colours and beat up criminals to deal with it. Maybe, in a way, Jason needed Robin as much as he had.
"Look, Jay, it’s not something that’ll just stop. But it’s something you’ve gotta rise above. Speaking from experience, you can’t punch all your problems away, and you can’t hide from them either," he explained.
Jason pouted. "Why not?"
Dick sighed. "Because… because you’re Robin now, and Robin has to be good and he has to be brave."
"I wanna be," Jason admitted. "But I’m not like you. I’m not hopeful or optimistic or peppy or whatever bullshit you need to be Robin."
"Hate to break it to you baby bird but that’s not what Robin’s about. I wasn’t very hopeful or optimistic and I’ve never been peppy. You just have to want to help people," Dick explained. "And you do, I know that."
Jason fiddled with his shoelace but eventually looked up with a proper smile. "That’s super cheesy, Dickface."
Dick just laughed. "Cut me some slack, I’m not good at the motivational talks yet."
"Thank you though."
"Yeah. Anytime. But right now we have to get dinner. Alfred’s probably wondering where we are."
Jason’s eyes went wide and he scrambled out from under the table. "You don’t think he’s mad?"
Dick crawled out after him. "I think he’ll just be glad we haven’t killed each other."
Jason burst out laughing. "As if you could kill me."
Dick raised an eyebrow. "You’re miniature, it wouldn’t be difficult."
"If that’s what you’ve gotta tell yourself, Dickwing," Jason said with a grin before jumping down to the floor below like there wasn’t a perfectly good ladder.
Dick followed and lifted Jason up off of the ground once he caught up. Jason just went very still and limp, almost like he was playing dead, before craning his neck to stare at Dick with his eyes practically bugging out of his skull. Dick couldn’t help but laugh.
"It’s not funny you can’t just go— I have rights you know!"
"Yeah, the right to remain silent," Dick agreed, throwing Jason over his shoulder. He barely weighed a thing. "It’s not my fault you’re so pocket sized."
Jason made an offended noise and pounded his fists against Dick’s back, but it was intentionally light and not much of a deterrent.
"One day I’ll be taller than you and I’ll pick you up like this and then you’ll see," he muttered once he’d given up.
Dick laughed again. "Sure, Little Wing, we’ll see."
"Little Wing?"
"Yeah. Because you’re little, and it’s a bird joke."
"That’s… really dumb."
Dick just shrugged, jostling Jason about as he did. "Too bad, you’re stuck with it."
"Fine," Jason grumbled, but Dick could tell he was smiling.
~*~
Patrol during the summer was up there in the list of Dick’s least favourite things. The heat made his costume unbearable and the criminals angrier, and this time it was only made worse by the fact he’d had to do it solo. Bruce was investigating a spree of attacks that had Riddler written all over it (literally, there were a lot of question marks involved), and Tim was still bed ridden after being attacked by Jason.
Jason, Dick’s sort of little brother who was apparently back from the dead with a vengeance now, and murderous just to cap it all off. Dick hadn’t really taken a moment to deal with that honestly, he’d been too busy.
And it would have to wait for another night, because at the moment all he wanted was to climb out of his sweaty uniform and into a cold shower.
He’d only just made it to his bedroom and shut the door behind him before he finally let his guard down.
A mistake, apparently.
"You need better locks."
He nearly jumped out of his skin in his haste to turn the lights on, and barely relaxed when he saw who was sat on his bed like he owned it.
Jason, sans the Red Hood helmet which was resting beside him. Speak of the devil.
"Seriously, it was child’s play getting in," he added with a twisted sort of smile.
"Jason," Dick said, fighting to keep his voice even. "What do you want?"
All he’d wanted was a shower, he didn’t think that was too much to ask for.
"To talk," Jason admitted. "To you, in case that wasn’t clear."
"It was."
He shrugged. "I know you sometimes need things spelled out for you."
Dick narrowed his eyes instead of biting like Jason wanted. Upon closer inspection, he wasn’t as relaxed as he seemed. His position was only this comfortable and vulnerable because he wanted it to be. The tension in his jaw gave it away; he’d always had problems there.
Dick then noticed his duffel bag on the floor, the same one, he realised with a roll of nausea, that was once home to eight drug dealer heads. Now it was probably full of weapons, to add to the ones he could see on Jason’s body. They were masterfully concealed to the untrained eye, but if there was one thing Dick had it was a lot of training.
"Are you gonna try and kill me?" Dick asked after a moment, steeling his gaze. "Because you couldn’t beat me back then and you can’t now."
It was a bluff. Jason knew it. "That’s adorable. You do realise I was trained by the League of Assassins while I was gone? And then some magical ninjas which is," he waved a hand dismissively. "I’m also about four inches taller than you now, and if I remember correctly the only way you used to win was by lifting me in the air."
Dick almost smiled at the memory but forced himself not to. "So you are here to kill me."
For the first time, Jason let the act drop and his shoulders lifted up, almost to his ears. "I told you, I just want to talk."
Dick hesitated but crossed the room and sat on his dresser. "Talk then."
Jason looked surprised for a moment, but it was gone in a second. "I heard you killed Joker."
Dick raised his eyebrows. "Cutting straight to it, huh?"
"That’s what you wanted isn’t it?"
He sighed. It was, but he hadn’t actually expected it, not when Jason used to dance around subjects like it was a game. The lack of preamble just took him by surprise.
"I just need a yes or no answer," Jason continued.
"And what? If it’s not the one you want, you shoot me in the face?" Dick said defensively. "Or are you gonna make a display of me like you did poor Tim?"
Jason clenched his jaw even harder. Anymore and he’d need a trip to the dentist. "I won’t apologise for that."
"I don’t expect you to."
After a moment of tense silence, Jason suddenly stood up and reached into his pockets. It was so fast that Dick barely had time to respond, but luckily he just took out two guns, made a show of checking the safeties, and threw them onto the bed. Next came a handful of knives, some jagged some straight, and one hand grenade before he’d seemingly emptied his stash and folded his arms over his chest.
"Better? I mean I’ve got a taser but that’s built in." He tapped the bat on his chest to demonstrate, and it sparked weakly. "Ah look at that. Lucky for you it’s also fresh out of juice."
Dick stared at the pile of weapons then at Jason. "Am I just meant to trust you now?"
"Just say yes or no," Jason said, and he sounded plain tired. "Please. You don’t ever have to see me again if you answer me now."
Dick ran his tongue over his teeth and settled a little more comfortably on the dresser. Jason kept watching him with too green eyes and an almost wounded expression, like a kicked puppy or something.
"Yes," he said eventually. "I did kill the Joker."
Jason blinked, as if he was taken by surprise. "Why?" he asked, almost hopeful.
Dick almost smiled, but it probably looked more like a grimace. "You were my little brother, Jason. Why do you think?"
"Then how is he still alive?"
"That’s two more questions than you said you’d ask," Dick said, but it wasn’t particularly mean or angry.
"Come on…"
He averted his gaze and looked at a spot on the floor that needed cleaning instead. "Bruce didn’t want me to have to live with that. So he… had arrangements made, I don’t know the details."
Jason was still for a long moment before nodding stiffly. "Makes sense," he said roughly. "Thanks."
"For what?"
Jason made a face and shrugged half heartedly. "For trying, I guess."
Dick didn’t know what to say and just watched Jason pack up all his weapons as quickly as he possibly could, then cross to the window he must’ve come in from.
"Maybe don’t tell the bat I was here," Jason suggested, as if Dick was that stupid. "Or I will cut your tongue out or something."
It was a joke in poor taste but still a joke. Dick just nodded in acknowledgment and pointed to the duffel bag on the floor. "Don’t forget your heads," he returned.
Jason looked confused for a moment, then slightly relieved as if it was an actual possibility he’d left a decapitated skull lying around. It was almost funny.
"That’s for you actually. A present," he explained. Halfway through his speech became warped by a modulator as he slid his helmet on. Then he tacked on a "Kind of, anyway."
Which meant it was probably stolen or lethal or both. "Do I wanna know?" Dick asked tiredly. Because he was.
"I don’t know, do you?"
And on that not at all ominous note, Jason slipped out of the window with startling ease for someone of his stature and at that point Dick decided he didn’t particularly want to go after him.
He just sighed and stared at the imprint on his sheets from all the guns, then hesitantly lifted the bag onto the bed. It wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be, but he still went through the effort of unzipping it at arms length. When nothing immediately exploded, he looked inside.
It was a PlayStation, old and dusty and outdated. Specifically, he realised as he lifted it out of the bag, it was the one he’d given Jason about seven years ago now. It still had his name written in faded permanent marker on the back, and Jason’s added beneath it.
Dick stared at it, then sighed heavily and fixed his mask back into place. God fucking damn it.
He slid out of the window and climbed up onto the roof, almost colliding directly with—
"Jason what the fuck?"
He looked at Dick like a deer in the headlights. "Hey." Even his modulator couldn’t hide what was clearly a crack in his voice.
"Why are you lurking on my roof?" Dick asked, rubbing his forehead where he’d bashed it against Jason’s stupid helmet.
"I wanted to see if you were gonna throw out my gift! You think I’d let it go to waste when I could sell it or something?"
Dick shook his head and took a big step back from him. "Whatever. Doesn’t matter. How did you get that?"
Jason shrugged and it was clear that he was smiling beneath the helmet. Actually it was probably more of a smirk, if Dick knew his brother and, as much as they both probably wouldn’t admit it, he did. "You weren’t my first B&E of the night," Jason bragged.
Dick laughed out of surprise. "You went to the Manor?"
"I broke into the Manor, there’s a difference," he said defensively.
"You realise Alfred definitely knew, right?"
"Whatever. Point is they’d kept my room like a fucking shrine and that thing was yours anyway so…"
Dick smiled. "You got nostalgic."
"Did not."
"You so did."
Jason crossed his arms. "Like I said, whatever. Just don’t cry about it. Have fun with it, or give it to the Replacement I don’t care. Now we’re even."
Dick watched him turn to leave, and for some reason decided to speak. "You know before… well, before everything I’d kicked your ass on that racing game."
Jason glanced over his shoulder. "And?"
"And maybe we could have a rematch one day. You know, to be fair to you."
"I wouldn’t say you kicked my ass."
Dick smiled and shrugged. "Agree to disagree then."
Jason tilted his head to the side. "What’s your angle here?"
"No angle. Just an offer. Do with it what you will."
He didn’t give Jason any time to respond and just climbed back down to his apartment. After a couple of minutes, at which point he’d changed out of his uniform, there was a rap on the glass followed by Jason hanging upside down outside of his window, probably by his legs off of the above fire escape.
"You’re a fucking weirdo, just had to let you know that," he announced.
"You’re not exactly normal, Little Wing," Dick pointed out. "Are you coming in, or are you lingering?"
Jason went stock still for a moment, surprised either by the old nickname (which to be fair, Dick was too) or the genuineness of the offer, before making up his mind. "No. Leave me alone."
Before Dick had a chance to point out that this was his apartment and he was the one being harassed, Jason had swung himself up and out of view.
It was fine though. He’d be back, and this time Dick wouldn’t turn him away like he first had.