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Tim eyed Jason warily as the man slowly stalked towards him like they had all the time in the world. His eyes were practically glowing, not blue. But in a vaguely familiar toxic green color.
Tim's knuckles went white around his bo staff. He didn't want to hurt Jason, but he would if he had to.
Jason stopped a few feet away from him, the red lights signifying the Tower's lockdown cast an eerie glow on the left side of his face.
"You had a father that looked after you." Jason said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Debatable, Tim thought. But he decided that it was in his best interest to stay quiet for now.
"You went to a private school. You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets. I lived in the alleyways in Gotham trying to survive." Jason paused, looking off into the distance. "Until Bruce took me in." He said, taking off his jacket and throwing it onto the floor, letting it pool by his feet.
Jason stared on before casting his gaze to the left as if he'd been struck.
Tim vaguely recalled Jason being a part of the drama club at Gotham Academy. Holding back a sigh, he let the grip around his bo staff relax. This would probably take a minute.
Jason's head snapped back to look at Tim, pinning him with a glare. "I trained as hard as I could," He unzipped his suit as he spoke. Was this part of the show? Tim wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be.
As much as he admired Jason for all he'd done in his Robin days, he really didn't want to see him strip off in the Titans Tower. It would be like seeing a turtle out of its shell.
Jason dramatically threw his hand away from the zip as if it had burned him, then slowly went to push his sleeves down.
Theater kids, Tim bit back a sigh. Thank Diana he wasn't one.
Jason tugged his arm out one of the sleeves. "I did whatever he asked." He snarled, awkwardly tugging the other arm out.
Tim leaned back against the counter. At this rate, the others would get here before the monologue was even halfway done.
Wait. Tim narrowed his eyes at the familiar colors under Jason's suit. Jason had pushed his Hood armor down to his hips, giving Tim a clear view of exactly what the big reveal was.
The material was thin and cheap. Nearly see-through due to the way it stretched across Jason's chest. It was nothing like the high-tech armor a Robin usually wears. Definitely not.
Tim didn't like to think ill of the not-so-dead, but Jason looked horrific. With the straining cotton, the yellow cape that only went halfway down his back and the plastic R haphazardly stuck to the middle of his chest. Oh gosh. It was like seeing Bane squeezed into a tutu. Disturbing, but too extraordinary to look away from.
Tim's throat strained with effort as he forced down his giggles.
Jason kicked out roughly as he struggled to get his left leg out of his jeans. Which wouldn't be half as difficult if Jason just took his shoes off.
Jason stumbled at the last pull, he threw the jeans to the side, rolling his shoulders back.
Tim pursed his lips to hide the way they trembled.
Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it. He chanted to himself.
Jason stood tall, shoulders back and chin lifted in a smug, defiant tilt. It was like he didn't realize he was stuffed into a brightly colored abomination.
"At least at–" Jason went on as if nothing had happened.
Tim couldn't help it, he snorted.
Jason stopped. His eyes glowed brighter. Lazarus Pit? Tim wondered.
Tim did his best to look contrite. "Sorry, hay fever. You were saying?" His voice shook and he prayed that Jason would mistake it for fear. That would be in both their best interests.
Jason stared for a moment before straightening up again. Tim glanced warily at the way his "armor" strained at the movement. Did Jason get that thing out of the kid's section or something? He really should have splurged for a bigger size. Or none at all. Save them both the embarrassment.
"At least at first." Jason continued, dramatically glancing off to the left again. "But it didn't matter," He murmured.
Tim took the chance to do something he'd regret and glanced down at the rest of the costume.
Oh.
He should not have done that.
Jason's legs were clad in sheer, bright yellow tights.
Tights.
The Red Hood was wearing tights.
"They said I wasn't tough enough to be Robin." Jason snarled.
I wonder why. Tim's chest bubbled as he shook with repressed laughter.
Jason swished his cape. "But today, they say you–"
Tim lost it.
Laughs just started pouring out of him, echoing through the room and bouncing off the walls.
Tim bent over as his stomach cramped. His eyes watered and he couldn’t breathe as Jason loomed over him.
God, Tim hadn’t laughed this hard in years.
Jason's glowing eyes flickered. "Why," he started. "Why are you laughing?"
He sounded so confused. Tim almost felt bad for ruining his moment. But he probably deserved it if he was planning what Tim thinks he was.
Imagine fighting it out with a guy dressed like that.
"I–" Tim was going to say something placating, he swears. But then he saw.
He saw it.
The scaly panties.
"Oh my God." Tim howled. He crouched further forward, holding his stomach for dear life only to see them.
The pixie boots.
Or what was left of them, because that was certainly not Jason's shoe size.
Tim fell to his knees.
"Please, stop." He cried out, gasping, tears stinging his eyes and streaming down his face. His lungs burned, his chest was tight and his throat hurt. "I'm sorry, please, just stop."
Jason was gaping down at him.
"I haven't even done anything to you yet?" He didn't sound too sure.
Tim wheezed. Black at the edges of his vision.
This was worse than Joker Venom, because it was actually funny. Tim was sure he could wipe out Gotham via laughter, just by showing them a photo of Jason like this.
"Kid?" Jason sounded concerned now.
Maybe he had seen his reflection and was afraid of what he'd become. Tim laughed harder at the thought.
"Kid," He said again, a face appeared in Tim's slowly darkening vision. He caught Tim as the last of his strength left him. "Kid, you gotta breathe."
With Jason holding him in his arms. Tim looked up through his tears and brushed a trembling hand against Jason's cheek.
"Do-dol--" He stuttered through painful laughs.
Jason cradled his head, eyes wide and concerned. "Shh, just breathe." He coaxed gently.
Tim blinked through his tears to stare into blue-green eyes he thought he'd never see again. "Dollar store Robin." He whispered. Jason's face dropped into an indignant scowl. Tim cackled as he finally blacked out.
-
Jason stared down at the unconscious boy in his arms. The Pit had long gone and had yet to make a comeback.
What the fuck did he just see?
One minute they're getting ready to fight. Next, the kid's laughing like he's been gassed.
Maybe he has. Jason drew the kid further into his arms and stood up, the medbay shouldn't have been moved, right?
Then he saw himself in the reflection of the TV.
Standing in scaly shorts and a tiny ass rag of a cape with his plastic R gleaming proudly under the flashing red lights of the tower. He glanced down at his pixie boots only to see his big toe poking out of the left one.
No. Jason groaned. No. No way did he cause this shit.
Jason eyed the tights. They looked a little too sheer for comfort, but that could just be the lighting.
He grimaced. Maybe he could change before the kid woke up, pretend it was all a sleep-deprived hallucination–
Tim stirred and his eyes fluttered open.
Then Nightwing and Batman came charging into the room.
Then they just stopped and stared.
Fuck his second life. He did not come back for this shit.
"What--" Dick started.
"Not now." Jason snarled.
He gritted his teeth as he crouched down to place Tim on the couch, ripping his tights in the process. Damnit, he knew he should have splurged for the JL brand costume.
Tim whimpered. Snickers starting to form.
Jason dumped him unceremoniously on the couch, glaring when Dick rushed over to the kid's side as if the brat had been brutalised. Like he was supposed to be.
Tim had tears in his eyes. Fucking tears. "Night- Nightwing, he- he-" The kid snorted so hard that he flinched.
Good. At least he's suffering in some way.
Dick's brow smoothed and his lips twitched upwards. Jason glared.
Tim's eyes darted between them all. "You see him too, right?" He pointed at Jason, then at the pixie boots.
Dick laughed. He looked Jason up and down, wincing. "It looks like you're going to burst through it any second. How did you even fit in there?"
"That's none of your damn business." Jason snapped, his ears burning.
"Must have been a struggle if you're getting so defensive." Tim muttered.
Dick cracked up laughing, flopping down onto the couch beside Tim.
"Imagine if he went for the leotard." Dick whispered.
As if Jason couldn’t hear him.
Tim fell forward, leaning into Dick's side as tears streaming down his face.
Jason contemplated just shooting them both. No Pit necessary.
Batman stared at him, slowly reaching out to cup the back of Jason's neck. "Jaylad." He said softly, eyes shining. They stared at one another for a few moments, then Bruce's eyes darted to the scaly shorts. "You should get changed." He grimaced.
Jason blinked.
He hated this fucking family.
He slapped Bruce's hand away and stomped off to the bathroom, ripped tights and all.