Chapter Text
Jason had a love/hate relationship with visiting Wayne Manor. On one hand, it was the home of many of his family members. He had been getting on significantly better with many of them, now that the insane hold of the Lazarus pits had over him had lessened. Jason hated to admit it, but Bruce had been right about talking to Black Canary. Therapy had done wonders in helping him control his anger and even working through some of the trauma leftover from dying at the hands of the Joker. Not that Jason would admit it aloud. Bruce was a total hypocrite, sending Jason off to a therapist yet never booking an appointment for himself. There was no way that the second eldest of the Wayne children would give the old man credit whenever he continually threw himself into the pits of obsession and despair on a nightly basis.
Wanting better for your children was a noble thing, but Jason knew that he and his brother would much rather Bruce want better for himself too.
On the other hand, Jason found himself hating the Manor because any time he visited, trouble was bound to happen. It went without saying that shenanigans were a constant presence in the home given the Manor housed several vigilantes under the age of 25. That being said, when Jason was there, it wasn’t just lively pranks that seemed to unfold. Rather, arguments seemed to break out.
Apparently it is normal to argue with your siblings, even if you aren’t actually related and are only siblings because some dude in a bat suit has a serial compulsion to adopt and train sad, lonely children. Typically, orphans.
“I don’t understand Alfie,” Jason whined as he transferred his phone to rest between his shoulder and ear so he could freely make the bowl of cereal he had been craving the last twenty minutes. “If Bruce and Dickface are off-world for some stupid mission with Duke and Damian is having a sleepover with a Super, then why do you want me at the Manor? It doesn’t make sense to have a family dinner without much of the family there.”
“I would remind you, once again, Master Jason to watch your language.” Alfred schooled over the phone.
Jason shrunk back at the tone, even if he knew he was safe with so many miles between them. The younger man muttered an apology in return, knowing that the butler wouldn’t continue until he heard one. If there was one man in this world who could leave Jason Todd-Wayne, the fearsome Red Hood, quaking in his faux leather combat boots, it was Alfred Pennyworth. “I know you only play around with Master Dick’s name as a form of fraternal teasing, but I would appreciate you knowing your audience. I do not care much for such vulgarities.”
“Yes, Alfie.” Jason sighed. He hated disappointing the butler. The man was far closer to being his grandfather than anything else, and the idea of making Alfred sad or disappointed in him was like a punch to the gut that actually hurt.
A chuckle coming from the other end did ease some of the tension in Jason’s shoulders. Alfred wasn’t too upset then. “Thank you, Master Jason, that’s a good lad.”
As basically an adult at this point, Jason should feel a little embarrassed at the butterflies that went through his stomach whenever Alfred praised him like that. There really was no denying it at this point, the dignified old man had Jason wrapped around his gloved pinky finger.
“As for my earlier point,” Alfred continued. “Young Master Timmothy is at the Manor this weekend and could use some company. Master Bruce was very clear that the current list of rogues on the loose meant that Master Timothy was not allowed to patrol by his lonesome. Although if Master Damian were to return, I doubt that Master Bruce would approve of those two going out together either. My point being,” Alfred cleared his throat for a moment. “If you came over, you and your brother could have some quality time together, and then maybe if you would like, you could go on a patrol in the late hours like all of you seem to enjoy.”
It was rare, very rare, for Alfred to endorse any of the family going on patrol. The old man was very vocal about his disdain for the family’s vigilante activities because he feared each of them would only return home in a body bag.
With the track record they had, Jason couldn’t say it was an unwarranted fear.
“Why me?” Jason asked after slurping another bite of his cereal from a comically large silver spoon that Dick had gifted him following a comment in an op-ed article stating that Dick and Jason were growing up to be a ‘pair of spoiled young men’. “Why not call in Steph or Cass? Pretty sure Replac—Timmy, would be happier to see them.” Luckily he caught himself before referring to his younger brother as ‘Replacement’ again. Alfred had already had a talk with him a few months ago about calling Tim by the name, even though as far as Jason was concerned it was obviously all in good fun. Tim understood, or at least Jason thought he did, so the nickname was only really censored around the elderly butler who didn’t share the same sense of humor that Jason did.
“Miss Cassandra is still in Hong Kong and asking her to make such a long trip would be rude. Especially when you are staying in a safe house not twenty minutes away.”
“How did you—”
“And Miss Stephanie, as wonderful as she is, would not encourage responsible behavior,” Alfred said. “I know that you enjoy a ruckus as well, but I know that in the end, you will protect your brother, so I am asking you. Will you join us for dinner tonight Master Jason?”
Well if they were playing a chess game, Alfred was about 60 moves ahead and had Jason in checkmate like he was playing against a person who only knew the rules for checkers.
“Fine,” Jason sighed as he set the now empty bowl in the sink. “Let me change and pack a bag. I’ll be there in about forty minutes.”
“Thank you, Master Jason.”
The sincerity in Alfred’s voice was enough to bring any ill will Jason had at being manipulated to its knees. This was a man who simply cared for all of his charges and was trying to do what was best for all of them. At the moment, he was apparently what was best for the Replacement.
“Anything for you Alfie.” If the old man could be genuine with his emotions, then Jason owed it to him to try and do the same. He really would do anything for Alfred. The man could ask him to give up his guns and without question, Jason would throw them into the Gotham harbor.
God he hoped Alfred didn’t do that.
“Tell Timmy to be on time for dinner. I’m hungry and I don’t feel like waiting.” Teasing felt better, he could only dish out the mushy gushy stuff for a few seconds before it became overwhelming.
“Yes, sir. I imagine that sugary mess you just shoved down your gullet wasn’t the most filling of meals.”
Damn, Alfred was good.
“I shall see you in forty minutes.”
The drive to the Manor wasn’t too bad. The fall weather coming in to break the summer heat and New England leaves changing into their rich and beautiful colors actually tempted Jason to take the scenic route for nature purposes rather than avoiding his family. He resisted though, not wanting to upset Alfred with tardiness. It had been a long time since he had earned a swat from the old man, and Jason intended to keep it that way.
Bruce was a different story, but that old bat wouldn’t be there so for the most part his ass was safe. The danger that was still present in the far-off distances though was looming enough to keep Jason on his schedule and to have him actually wearing his helmet. Pulling up to the Manor without one would essentially be signing his own death warrant. A thing that he was not particularly interested in doing since he was only recently legally brought back from the dead. He was going to the Manor for glorified babysitting. The idea of screwing that up upon arrival and proving to Alfred that he was not actually responsible enough to be trusted with his younger brother would be utterly humiliating.
It was for that reason tonight had to go well. His pride was on the line, sure, but more importantly he wanted to show that Alfred’s trust was not misplaced. Jason was more than capable of looking after a pesky teenager with a raging caffeine addiction.
“Welcome home Master Jason,” Alfred said at the top of the drive. He was standing at attention, as always. All of the kids had tried, without any success, to assure their surrogate grandfather that he didn’t need to be so proper with them. All of them would be fine with their Alfie just opening his arms for a hug in greeting rather than the pompous welcome that all socialites were due. However, the British butler saw things in a different light, and the rules of the Manor were very clear: what Alfred says goes. The only thing that the elderly man was unable to get his way on was the family’s nightly activities, but his influence did impose a variety of regulations on the matter.
Jason suspected that one of those regulations was that Tim could not patrol tonight without supervision. Bruce was strict, especially with anyone who carries or has carried that title of Robin, but even he would have trusted Tim to handle a routine patrol on his own. This situation smelled entirely of Alfred’s intervention.
He parked his motorcycle with ease, his boots hit the kickstand off of muscle memory and he tucked his helmet under his shoulder before pulling the butler into a one-arm hug. “Hey, Alfie.” Jason smiled and found himself burying his face into the older man’s shoulder whenever two staunch arms wrapped around him to complete the hug. The family wasn’t exactly a hugging family, much to Dick’s chagrin, but Jason would always open himself up for an Alfred hug. The man’s hugs were almost as good as his cookies, and that was saying something. “How’ve you been?”
The two pulled away a bit but gloved hands were still resting on Jason’s shoulders. He didn’t know how Alfred managed to make a gesture like that feel so safe. If Bruce had been doing the exact same thing, more than likely Jason would feel a bit trapped. The two of them had made monumental progress but there were still lingering feelings of mistrust that could bubble up from time to time, so Bruce was still cautious with how he touched his second son. Jason hoped one day they would get to a point where he was as comfortable with his father as he was with Alfred, they just weren’t there yet. Bruce said it was okay but Jason could see the pain behind the old man’s eyes.
One day, the pain wouldn’t be there…Jason hoped.
“I find myself rather bored actually without all my Masters here. I have much more free time as of late without so many people to chase after.” Alfred’s dry sense of humor could always draw a wide smile out of Jason, even after he had just been thinking morose thoughts. “However in the last few hours, my workload has picked up as I’m attempting to wrangle a teenager.” The last word coming out of the old man’s mouth carried with it an exaggerated eye roll.
Jason chuckled, glad that for once the person giving the butler trouble wasn’t him. “That bad, huh?”
“He’s been parked in front of that dreadful computer for the last nine hours, only leaving to refill his mug with that poison he’s so fond of. I would switch the stuff over with a decaffeinated version to encourage the boy to get some meaningful sleep, but doing so may cause an injury tonight.” Alfred continued recounting the events of the day as the two of them made their way into the Manor.
Apparently, the blue light glasses that Tim was supposed to be wearing whenever he had long sessions in front of all their screens were also nowhere to be found. Alfred had tried to find them in the kid’s room, but the sea of case files adorning the floor and every other surface made such a task impossible. “He reminds me so much of Master Bruce whenever he first started out that it concerns me. The tunnel vision could get him hurt.”
“Which is why you asked Bruce to require me on patrol tonight?” Jason may not be the World’s Greatest Detective, but he wasn’t stupid.
“Yes.”
“Not even going to deny it?” He cocked an eyebrow, a little suspicious that Alfred wasn’t even trying to cover his tracks. Normally the butler would have hid behind Bruce, insisting it was their dad’s parental concern for their safety that drove the call.
A gloved hand reached out and thumbed Jason’s cheek rather fondly. “I see no point in lying to someone that I want on my side for this matter.”
Jason’s gut tightened. Did Alfred just say that? Did he seriously just flat out say he was trusting Jason with something important, with the wellbeing of his younger brother? The very younger brother he had viciously attacked when he had first come back from the gave. A wave of pride and warmth washed over the young man as he gulped at the implications of those words. “It doesn’t take much convincing for me to be on your side, Alfie.”
“A fact I take great pride in, Master Jason.” Alfred took a moment to dust off his charge’s jacket. “Could you go get your brother for me? Dinner just needs to be plated and all will be ready.”
A nod and ruffle of dark hair later, Jason found himself changing the time on the clock so he could open the entrance to the cave. “Yo Timbers!!” Jason called as he descended the stairs and headed toward the computer. Despite the call, he received nothing in return. “Timmy-Tim! Vacate the computer and get your ass upstairs. Alfie has dinner ready for us!”
Silence.
Jason didn’t do well when he was being ignored. Especially when he was trying to be nice and not use the more rude names he had for his younger brother, for Alfred’s sake of course. Coming up from behind the giant chair Bruce typically occupied, Jason turned it 180 degrees. “Timothy,” his voice turned stern in his best impression of Bruce or Dick whenever they were attempting to get the younger ones (Damian) in line. “It’s dinner time.”
When Jason spun the chair around he was expecting, well hoping may be the better word, that his little brother had finally lost a battle with sleep and was drooling against the faux leather lining he was pressed against.
Unfortunately, as his terrible luck would have it, Tim wasn’t even close to taking a sweet little snooze that Jason could take pictures of and later threatened to send to Bruce. The man acted so cold all the time, some members of the League going as far as to think he was actually a vampire, but Jason knew the truth. Bruce was a softie. He was the guy that would change the background on his phone to the latest picture of one of his children, just so he could pull it out and show his assistant at Wayne Enterprises how wonderfully each of them was growing up. The last wallpaper that Jason had seen pictured Cass at her recital in a silver tutu that sparkled when the spotlights hit her just right.
“Hey!” Tim snapped, glaring up at the second eldest son of the Wayne family. “Goddamnit Jason, I was in the middle of something! Do you know how long I have been working on this project?!” Tim tried to swivel the chair back to the screen with a childlike huff but the chair hardly moved due to the hold Jason on the over-the-top piece of furniture. “Um, excuse you?” the boy scoffed condescendingly.
Oh, that did it. Jason was trying his best to remain patient but the teenage angst that was meant to be his brand was proving to be a bit too much. Cass’s spot as Bruce’s lock screen was safe but Tim was not about to be.
The third Robin looked dreadful. Poor Tim had bags forming under his eyes and his dark locks looked like they hadn’t been washed properly in days. Tim was lucky his hair got more matted than greasy with all of the time it had been left unattended. Jason looked around the chair onto the consul of the Batcomputer and scrunched up his nose at the sight of a half-eaten energy bar and a stained mug of pure black coffee.
Alfred had every right to be worried, Tim didn’t look like he was in good shape.
“Excuse me ?” Jason turned his attention back to his brother grabbing Tim’s arm, he easily lifted the kid from his seat and gave a single hard swat to his baggy sweatpants. “You're done working for the day baby bird, it’s time for dinner.”
Jason was trying his best to keep an even but firm tone. He knew that his brother was just tired and cranky, so a little bit of a bratty attitude was bound to happen. There was no reason for Jason to stoop to the kid's level and reclaim his title of Supreme King of Angst, he had to be the responsible adult in this situation.
Even if he was a responsible adult who couldn’t legally drink.
“And watch your language.” Oh god, that felt so weird leaving Jason’s lips. “I know it makes me a hypocrite so don’t even start your whining on that one. I’m just giving you a warning because if Alfred hears you speaking like that, he won’t hesitate to wash your mouth out.” He didn’t feel the need to add that the knowledge came from personal experience.
Tim still didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked infuriated from the earlier swat. “You have two choices here Timmy. Either you go up and eat dinner like a good little boy or I take you upstairs and you eat your dinner with a warm butt.”
Oh god, he really sounded like Bruce!?!? The patriarch and golden boy of the family needed to return home with Duke immediately because Jason didn’t think his heart would be able to take if he noticed any more similarities between himself and his father.
“Take your pick.”
A few seconds of scowling and pouting later, Tim seemed to come to some level of sense, despite his completely exhausted state, and forged ahead and up the stairs to the main level of the Manor. Jason counted himself lucky because the idea of having to step up as a disciplinarian was enough to start giving him a headache.
Thankfully, the prickling heat on one side of Tim’s butt was enough to send him up the steps and into the safety of Alfred’s dining room and they could now have a nice meal.
Dinner was, of course, the most delicious meal that Jason had had in the last three weeks. Which was coincidentally, the last time he had been coaxed into coming over to the Manor for a family dinner. Jason looked up from his food, forcing himself not to scarf everything down in order to avoid being scolded by Alfred, only to see Tim’s eyes darting around looking guilty. The kid must have realized that the way he treated Alfred throughout this little spurt of them being the only ones in the Manor was less than ideal and starting to feel traces of guilt.
Good. The kid should feel guilty if he was even remotely rude to Alfred.
Tim should count himself as lucky though, because Alfred had just shot him a gentle smile in return before stating what was on the dessert menu, a rare chocolate fudge cake. Jason found himself smirking with delight because oh Dick was going to be so jealous whenever he found out! That was his favorite dessert besides a giant batch of Alfred’s famous cookies and he was too busy being off-world to even enjoy them!
“Oh, no, Alfie, no thanks.” Tim wiped his face clean with a napkin and placed it back down on the table. “I think I’m full…too much coffee today.” Jason’s head popped up from its gawking gaze over the mouthwatering dessert and looked at his little brother with shock.
“You’re what?” Jason leaned onto the table, still aware enough to make sure his chest was hovering over his messy plate so he could avoid stains. “Too full for cake?” Not even Bruce was enough of a Debbie Downer to say he was too full for Alfred’s special chocolate cake with homemade ganache. This was absolute madness.
Tim pushed himself back from the table as a means to begin excusing himself like the perfect little rich boy he was raised to be. “Thank you so much for dinner, Alfie. It was delicious. But Jay and I should be getting ready for patrol here soon.”
Everything about Tim right now was so prim and proper and the kid probably thought he was being sly, like he was some sort of James Bond that could take on and play any role perfectly so his intended audience would be left utterly bamboozled by his neatly delivered little lies. And considering most of Gotham was filled with dunderheads, that might very well be true for Tim in his everyday life, but it would take a lot more than a clipped smile and basic table manners to fool a Bat. There was definitely something wrong here.
When they had made their way up, his little brother had all but sprinted up the stairs to avoid being in stride with Jason. Tim had a tendency to avoid physical touch, despite Dick’s valiant attempts to turn the kid into a hugger, but even with his sensitivities, Tim usually remained in a close proximity to family when they were nearby. Sure, Jason had swatted the teen but that didn’t normally cause a cold pillar of air to separate Tim from Bruce whenever their dad had done the same thing in the past.
Jason wouldn’t have even had to do anything if Tim hadn’t been such a cranky little bat brat!
And now on top of it all, Tim was refusing cake! Something was seriously wrong with the twerp.
“Okay enough with the bullshit. I’ve seen you drink your weight in coffee and ask for a cup of it to go with your cake. What the hell is going on with you?” Jason didn’t miss the pointed glance from the butler, but it wasn’t actually threatening. Alfred had two types of glares. The first was simply given out of obligation but it didn’t carry any real heat; the second one though, that meant trouble. Luckily, Jason was still in the first category, so he didn’t feel any danger. “You’ve been cranky apparently for days, ate only this meal with two portions that were the size for toddlers, and now you are too full for your favorite dessert in the entire world.”
Saying all of this out loud just highlighted how out of character Tim had been recently. “I don’t buy it.”
Jason looked on at his little brother who was once again doing his best not to make eye contact. Tim was shuffling a little bit, a habit that Bruce had noticed and pointed out once when they were at a gala and the middle child was being followed around by some paparazzi bastards. The slightly changing vantage point made it so Jason could actually make out the beginnings of sweat creeping up on Tim’s slightly furrowed brow.
“Hold on a second, are you sick?”
If Tim was trying to patrol when he was indisposed, Jason was really going to lose it. He had thought his job tonight was to babysit a brat on patrol, not play a nursemaid!
“Oh for the love of,” Jason started crossing the room to get to his brother, reaching out a hand to feel the other’s forehead. “Come here and let me check ya over.”
Tim pushed Jason’s reaching hand away from his forehead, clearly perturbed by the attention he had garnered. “I’m 16, Jason. Not six.” He glared up at his brother, eyebrow twitching either in frustration or exhaustion, Jason didn’t know which to think anymore. “I know how to take care of myself, unlike you.”
The brat really had no instinct for self-preservation. Slapping Jason’s hand away was already something he believed to be unwise but the mouthing off was not helping Tim’s case in the slightest. The kid was obviously unwell, even without the presence of pronounced eye bags and slowed movements, the way their little Timmy was speaking and conducting himself was pretty much a dead give away, and something needed to be done to address it.
Tim tried to sidestep his brother so he could make his escape but found it frustratingly difficult to coordinate his feet into cooperative strides. His equilibrium was starting to trip but the boy held on through what looked to be pure stubbornness. Jason understood the kid had been trained by both Lady Shiva and Batman, so it made sense that he could force his body to work its way through weakness. However, if he had been doing that for the entire day and maybe in the days before, the sheer force of will wasn’t going to sustain him much longer.
“Master Timothy, there’s no need to fuss. Patrol will still be there tomorrow. Your body clearly needs some rest and I do believe that Gotham can survive one night without you.” Alfred had come up behind Tim and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, trying to provide a comfort and steadiness that was clearly missing. Though, the butler’s hands didn’t stay there long as Tim was quick to shrug him off.
"What do I have to get it through your heads that I'm not sick?" Tim’s frustration was mounting, "I don't need some stupid old butler or useless big brother to take care of me! I've been doing it just fine all my life, so just leave me alone!"
Alfred's face hadn't changed expression, but Jason knew the butler better than almost anyone, and he could see the hurt piling up behind Alfred’s eyes. Evidently, so could Tim because the boy immediately tried to take back his own words.
"I–I didn't mean. . . I just. ." Tim's face felt a solid beet red, and tears welled up.
“Didn’t mean to or not,” Jason advanced on his brother, pulling the boy close to his side and plopping down five hard swats to the seat of Tim’s pants. “You know better than to talk to Alfred like that.” Mouthing off to Bruce was something he would outright encourage, it was funny to keep their dad on his toes, but no one spoke out of turn to Alfred while on his watch.
"Ow! Jay, no, ow!" Tim yelped and tried hard to squirm away. Jason had a good grip on his upper arm though, and as such gave another two swats for his trouble. Tim hissed between his teeth, his ass stinging fiercely through his sweatpants.
“Apologize, Tim,” he spun the teen back around to face their grandfather in time with the order. “ Now .”
“Master Jason, this isn’t necessary.” Alfred sighed. “Master Timothy simply misspoke.”
The old man was too kind for his own good. The endless faith he had in their family was undeserved as far as Jason was concerned. Lord knows he had let Alfred down more than he would like to admit. The venom with which he had spoken when he first returned from the pits…it was one thing he truly regretted and wished he could have taken back.
Being the cause of the old man’s pain was an excruciating burden to bear, and Jason was not about to let his little brother know the feeling. Better to have a sore bottom than to say something you don’t mean and be left to live with the consequences because you didn’t apologize soon enough.
“He didn’t ask for a cookie when he meant cake, Alfie. He was deliberately disrespectful to you when all you did was voice a reasonable concern.” Jason hated the little voice in the back of his head that was telling him that he sounded like Bruce or Dick when they got up on their soap boxes. “If he is sick, which from the delusional way he just conducted himself I’m pretty sure he is, he should be taking the advice of someone who is skilled in the practice of medicine. Which you are.”
If Doctor Leslie wasn’t in the manor tending to one of the idiotic members of the family, Alfred was the acting medical expert.
“Now Timmy, apologize to Alfred. Then you’re going to go to your room and get ready for bed. I can feel the heat radiating off of you, so you probably have a fever.” Hopefully, their caretaker could give his brother a proper check up while he went out for a quick patrol. As much as he was going to back up Alfred’s statement that the city could go a night without Tim specifically, Gotham wouldn’t stop needing the protection of their family simply because one of them had a cold. It would have to be a short one though, Jason didn’t have the full confidence the replacement would actually have the common sense to listen.
Speaking of common sense, he did have enough to see that Alfred was giving him a look that clearly said to be a bit more gentle with Tim. The old man was always softie for a sick brat. “Go on,” Jason said in a voice that was a bit lower and less annoyed. Some would even call it kind. “Just get it over with so you can get some rest already.”
Tim looked up at Jason, surprised by the affectionate tone and worry on Jason’s face. It was clear that Tim didn’t fully know what to do with this, so used to Jason’s touches being curt even while he was actively trying to make amends. Jason could see the moment Tim decided to stop contemplating what the now featherlight hand on his neck meant and turned to look up at Alfred, tears already brimming in his eyes as he fully registered how he had behaved mere moments ago.
“I–” Tim swallowed what Jason thought to be a sob, betraying just how worked up he was getting. “I’m really sorry, Alfie. I’m just–I can’t–” Tim squeezed his eyes shut, some tears spilling over, and forced the words out. “I don’t have an excuse. I’m just really sorry and I’ll do better. I promise.” Tim wrapped his arms around his stomach as if he was trying to comfort himself but once Jason noticed the kid’s skin turning even paler than before, he had a feeling that the hold wasn’t just for emotional comfort. “I um…I don’t feel very good.”
Poor kid, he really did look like shit.
“You are quite forgiven Master Timothy,” Alfred took a step forward, putting his young master’s face between his gloved hands and pulling the kid’s forehead in for a gentle peck. Such displays of affection were rare with their butler, he was British after all, but when any of the bat kids were down for the count from a sickness they could always count on Alfie to show up.
It seemed as if tonight were no exception.
“You had a lapse in judgment because as you just said, you are not feeling well. But all will be better soon enough, young master.” Jason and Alfred made eye contact a moment later. By no means had the second eldest of the Batman been around long enough to translate every single one of Alfred’s mannerisms into a fluent language, but Jason liked to believe that he knew enough Pennyworth to get by.
“I’ll get Tim settled upstairs,” Jason offered. He knew he had said the right thing whenever Alfred responded with a small nod and kind smile.
Score! Take that, Bruce.
“Could you go get the medic kit from the Cave? I think I saw it down there when I went to pick up small fry for dinner.” It was too late to be calling Dr. Leslie over to check up on Tim, but Jason knew that Alfred was more than competent to handle what was very likely a common cold with a little bit of teeth.
Alfred was quick to agree, dismissing himself with a gentle pat on Tim’s shoulder and another nod of approval in Jason’s direction. Maybe he was actually getting a handle on this big brother thing.
“Alright Timbers,” Jason said as he closed the distance between himself and his little brother. “Time for bed. Let’s go.”
Just looking at Tim it was obvious that the journey up the stairs to all of the ‘Master Chambers’ (as Alfred insisted on calling them) was going to be far too taxing on the worn-out kid. “Hey hey,” he found himself saying in that damned soft voice again whenever he saw Tim starting to turn towards the exit. “Let me help.”
With what looked to be like a seasoned maneuver, but was actually dumb luck, Jason was able to easily and delicately pick Tim up in a bridal style carry and tuck the ink-black head of his little brother under his strong chin. “Don’t worry buddy, I got you. We’ll get you in a nice warm bed in just a minute.”
Ascending the stairs with a sick kid in his arms brought memories to the forefront of Bruce caring for him when he had fallen with flu in his second year of living at the Manor. Being sick was hell, his stomach was in a constant state of duress that entire time, but being glued to his father’s side in a constant cuddle had been a sizable consolation prize. He could only hope he was giving Tim even a fraction of the comfort he had felt in those days with Bruce.
“Here we are Timbo,” Jason secured his brother close to his chest and shuffled one of his hands-free to open the door to Tim’s ground zero of a room. He wasn’t going to comment on the state of the floor though, not when the kid was sick enough to take any criticism as a major scolding.
He slowly lowered Tim down onto the bed, making sure to move the stray books off and back onto a nearby shelf that was for some reason not holding anything (despite that being what it was designed to do). “Do you think you can manage a shower or bath tonight?” Jason asked. “Or should we just get you into some pajamas and let you get some rest?”
A shower would be great for the kid’s personal hygiene but the last thing Jason wanted was for Tim to faint and hit his head on the shower floor or fall asleep and drown in the bathtub. If that happened (1) he would never forgive himself, and (2) Damian would never let Tim live down how he died whenever they inevitably found a way to resurrect him.
Not hearing an answer, Jason reached out to run his hand through Tim’s silk-black hair. “Timmy? You with me?”
“Hmmm?” The boy hummed. “You know s’mthing?” Tim leaned into Jason’s touch, “You were ah good Robin. M’ better but you were still good.”
Tim was adorably delirious at this point, that much was clear. All of the stubbornness that was holding him together earlier had crashed and now they were left with one loopy little bird. The teen was snuggled up against his giant pillow and leaning into Jason’s touch like he was a golden retriever puppy. If he were Dick, instead of his stoic badass self, his older brother would be cooing at the sight and maybe sneaking a few pictures. Instead, Jason decided to just allow his little brother to ramble on as he mindlessly played with the boy’s ink-black hair.
A shower or bath was out of the question at this point. He would just let Tim lay here and slowly drift off before changing him into a pair of loose pajamas. Alfred would be up here soon enough anyway to take the kid’s vitals. Having Tim asleep instead of complaining about Alfred’s methodical and thorough examination was preferable, to say the least.
Plus, if Tim went down easy, Jason may be able to sneak away for a quick patrol with relatively little drama.
“Yer my favorite Robin.”
Jason’s hands paused their ministration but were pushed back into motion after a small whine from Timmy. Getting back to work, Jason could help but still find the confession surprising given how the kiddo had practically hero-worshiped Dick whenever they first met. He had always been under the impression that the Golden Boy would be everyone’s favorite Robin. Dick was his favorite Robin after all…not that he would ever tell his big brother that. Not even if he was sleep drunk like Tim was right now.
He remembered being a kid and looking out his window with the hopes of seeing the Dynamic Duo soar past him as they fought crime throughout the city. His mom hadn’t ever paid the cable bill, unsurprisingly since she also forwent the electric bill and groceries on several occasions to pay for her other habits, so Jason couldn’t watch his idol on the news like other kids. He wouldn’t change it though. Other kids saw Robin kicking bad guys in the face on a tiny box. Jason got to see it in person, even if it was just a quick glance as the Boy Wonder flew by. He had even been able to hoop and holler cries of support when he looked down into the alleyway below and saw Robin stopping another nightly mugging.
A part of him wonders if Dick remembered any of those encounters?
“That’s sweet of you baby bird.” Jason sighed as he continued petting Tim’s hair. He couldn’t deny that being loved felt good. Logically, he understood why Dick adored being a big brother so much. You had these tiny people that were constantly looking up to you and worshiping the ground you walk on.
It felt nice.
Tim squirmed a bit in bed, readjusting and trying to find a comfortable spot. “M’ sick.” The boy admitted.
“Yeah,” Jason agreed. “You are.”
“Stupid spleen….” Tim squirmed again, jutting out his lips and pushing himself further into his pillow.
Jason chuckled at the little display, not really knowing what else to make of the situation without some sort of context. Granted, it was likely a small fever dream, so Tim probably wouldn’t even remember the context to give him later. “What does Ra’s Al Ghul’s spleen have to do with anything Timbo?” He asked.
“N’ s’upi Ra’s. ‘s mine, not his. Prob’ly got it inna jar, the jerk.” Tim muttered, not even paying attention to Jason.
All the good nature and warm-hearted feelings left Jason’s body immediately. That dark wizard immortal fuck had taken his brother’s spleen and nobody had thought to tell him!?!?! He was going to kill Bruce for this. How had that pompous asshole not thought that Jason was entitled to a vital piece of information like his brother missing an organ that helped with immune defenses?
That was pretty critical in their line of work!
Jason’s throat tightened as he fought down an angry yell. Losing his temper with Tim right now wouldn’t solve anything. It certainly wouldn’t give the kid his missing body party back.
“Go to sleep Tim,” Jason said, finally able to trust his voice enough to remain steady. It wasn’t as kind as it had been before, but the teenager was far too exhausted to notice. Like the good little Robin he was, Tim followed orders and quickly shut his eyes. He was asleep minutes later and didn’t even stir as Jason rose from his place on the bed and bound out of the room.
Just as he opened the door, he could see Alfred beginning to make his way up the stairs with the long-awaited medical bag.
“Did you know?” Jason’s voice was angry and accusatory, a tone he rarely took with the butler.
“You will have to be more specific Master Jason,” Alfred replied with an unimpressed drawl. “I would also advise you to drop this new attitude of yours when speaking to me.”
“I’ll talk how I want.” Jason shot back. Apparently, he had a death wish.
Alfred raised a single brow and it was enough to get Jason to back down slightly. “You just scolded Master Timothy for being rude to me, and this is how you are deciding to conduct yourself?” Well, when he put it that way… “Do you need a reminder in manners as well?”
Jason felt like a little kid again. Freshly at the Manor and learning that swearing at his new butler was not the way to get the old man to leave him alone. “No.”
“No, what?”
Jason huffed with annoyance, but he knew the expected answer. “No sir.”
“Good.” Alfred smiled and laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Now what is it you were wanting to speak with me about?”
And just like that, Jason spilled out everything he had just learned about the third eldest Wayne son. He also expressed his anger that Bruce would keep something like this from him. He knew he could be a little (a lot) on edge when it came to Ra’s and the Joker, but he thought he had earned some level of trust at this point. Finding out that Tim had sustained a major injury, and that Ra’s likely had it displayed like a trophy was infuriating enough without insult being added to the situation that he found out last.
“My word,” came Alfred’s shocked voice.
That was odd.
“We need to call Doctor Thompkins right away and have her see to Master Timothy if this is true.” Alfred set the bag down as if the clutter of such a gesture was not something that would normally set him off and then made his way down the stairs.
“Why would you need to do that?” Jason called after the older man. “What’s going on? Don’t you already know how to treat him because of this?”
Alfred quickly turned around, the tails of his overcoat twirling in the air. “I assure you if I had known Master Timothy was missing a spleen, I would not have reacted so nonchalantly as I did before when I learned of him being ill.” The reply was terse and frustrated, not that Jason could blame the elderly British man. “Master Bruce and I were distinctly unaware of this.”
So Tim hadn’t…he…he kept this from Bruce? Did he keep it from the family?
Oh, that kid was in a heap of trouble.
“You call Leslie,” Jason said as he turned to start in the direction of one of the many secret entrances to the cave. “I’ll call Bruce and explain the situation.”
“He will want to return home immediately,” Alfred warned.
“I know.” Jason brushed it off as he kept walking. “I’ll tell him to stay and focus on the mission. I’ve got things covered here.”
There was a bit of silence as Jason walked out of the room. He didn’t know if that should be reassuring or not. On one hand, Alfred didn’t stop him and say it was a bad idea for him to take point on this spleen problem. On the other hand, the butler also didn’t affirm he could do it.
Things were definitely going to be sticky. Luckily, Alfred had the joy and honor of calling Dr. Thompkins in the late night hours and wrangling a soon-to-be cranky Tim for a full evaluation.