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Tim was aware of his family being stalked for the whole last month.
He supposed, he needed to react to this with far more surprise from his side, but he preferred to leave the paranoid cautiousness to Bruce. Mostly. Being stalked, in Tim’s opinion, was completely normal for an every human being. And, after all, he knew exactly who was on their tail.
Red Hood himself.
Jason Todd, even.
Actually, he wasn’t sure if stalking was a right term to be used in this scenario. Was Jason staring at them from the shadows, unnoticed by others? Yes. Was it still considered to be stalking if technically he observed his own family? That was a trickier question.
Originally, Tim thought about saying something about all of this to Bruce. But considering the last arguments between him and Jason, and a very, very fragile state of peace supported by rare attempts to back each other up during different missions, it felt… risky. Bruce would either approach Jason directly and scare him off completely, or he will assume the worst possible outcome and fight with his own son over nothing.
As usual, Dick was a safer choice. But you see… Dick refused to enable Tim’s natural curiosity and the lack of preservation. He won’t approve Tim to stalk Jason back, will he?
That’s why, instead of doing anything useful, Tim started to pay attention to his brother and analyse over the pattern of his appearances. By the end of the month, he had figured out a few crucial things.
Jason appeared during family events five times; all times, no more than for six or ten minutes. He followed Bruce on his usual individual meetings with other kids more often than not: five times, he lurked behind Dick and Bruce, four times he silently crashed behind Tim and Bruce, and once he followed Damian on his trip with Bruce. He never tried to stalk Barbara or Alfred, definitely realising that they weren’t the ones to be easily tricked. Damian he also mostly ignored; Tim assumed that both of them having the same training from the League of Assassins made it rather useless.
Summarising all these stats, Tim came to the conclusion that Jason definitely wasn’t a danger for them. If anything, he was just… watching after his family. Which sounded sad.
In a way, Tim was familiar with this sensation. Once, it was him, who ran after Batman and his family from one rooftop to another, trying to figure out what they were up to. Yet, unlike Tim himself, Jason clearly didn’t have fun.
Or a choice.
Tim knew that he bitched on Jason a lot, occasionally making fun of him, when they were teamed up, but… he didn’t dislike Jason. In fact, Jason’s ability to match his insane humour and understand what he felt most of the time, made him fun in his eyes.
And beyond that… Jason’s Robin still had some place in his heart. He rivalled with him unconsciously, of course — which, looking back, was insane, because who in the right state of mind would spend their time being bitter at a dead kid; and a one that was so stupidly kind, too? — but, mostly, Tim wanted to become the type of Robin that would make his predecessor proud.
He also hallucinated him a lot once. But that was beside the point — everyone saw dead Jason in this house, Tim wasn’t special.
The point stood. Jason was a part of the family, whether he wanted it or not. And knowing that he was just haunting their house, uninvited and clearly lonely, made Tim feel wrong. That’s why he caught him red-handed, once he saw Jason following Dick and Damian during their brotherly patrol.
‘Hi.’
Jason didn’t react to him in the beginning. At first, Tim assumed that he was too busy eavesdropping Dick and Damian’s banter with Bruce, but then he remembered that, technically, Jason wasn’t in their comms. Barbara was the only one he had a direct contact with.
‘You are not that old to be deaf, are you?’ Tim tried again, impatiently tapping him on the shoulder.
‘I prayed that if I ignored you long enough, you will leave,’ he finally huffed.
‘Should’ve figured out that your prayers never work once you had died.’
It was hard to figure out what mood Jason was in; his helmet was awfully non-expressive. Tim hoped that by the scale of madness, he was, at least, somewhere in the middle. He wasn’t really in mood for fighting his brother today.
‘Oh, probably.’ Jason turned around to face him abruptly, making Tim instinctively step back. ‘But I am a little dreamer, you see?’
‘Little,’ he rolled his eyes, sizing him up and down.
God, he wished he was this little. Jokes about his height were infuriating.
‘So… How does stalking feel?’ He tried to resume the conversation awkwardly. ‘Amazing, isn’t it? A little rush of adrenaline at the possibility to be seen, a giddiness after a successful foray?’
Jason let out a sharp sigh.
‘Did you come to mock me?’
Okay, that was definitely not his purpose here!
He knew that he had a bad record for actually biting back and being a little mean, but that was the way he was as a person. Others mostly deserved it, anyway. It wasn’t like Tim said something that wasn’t honest, too.
‘Oh, come on,’ Tim folded arms on his chest. ‘I am not Regina George, I promise.’
‘What a pity,’ Jason sounded more amused now. ‘I would pay some extra to see one of your dramatic speeches cutting by the bus hitting you.’
‘Almost happened once. Not a big fan of public transport since then.’
Jason tilted his head owlishly. Was it indicating a silent question? He wasn’t sure.
‘So, why are you here, then?’
‘I figured out since we share the hobby now…’
‘I am not a stalker—’
‘...We could become friends?’
Jason started to cough violently. Swallowing down a genuine offence — usually, people were happy when he suggested being friends! — he helpfully hit him on the back a few times, just in case if it made him feel better.
‘Were you hit by something on your patrol?’
‘Are you so bad at stalking that you didn’t notice if I even fought with someone today?’
Jason groaned, smacking his hand away from himself.
‘No, we are not having this conversation. It is ridiculous. What do you really want? Spit it out.’
‘I told you! I am here to befriend you,’ Tim insisted.
Of course, Jason was going to be stubborn about it. Tim knew what he was signing up for to deal with. He just didn’t figure out what he will do to counter this…
Until now.
A brilliant idea came in his mind. The best he could have, even.
‘Hey, how about we fill friendship questionnaires to become closer?’
Jason smashed his hand on the helmet so harshly that it was a miracle that it didn’t crack. Or blew up, since Tim vaguely remembered that it had a bomb inside it.
‘Red?’
‘Yeah?’ He smirked. ‘Any preferences on questions? Topics you always wanted to discuss?’
‘Go and get some fucking sleep. I am serious.’
And with that, Jason grappled away without looking back.
This, however, only made Tim happier. It was definitely a win. Firstly, because Jason didn’t directly say no to this idea, and secondly, because instead of getting a classic “fuck you” response, he received only a mild attempt to send him to the bed.
Oh, Tim was so going to drag Jason back in this family.
When Tim was a kid, he remembered one of the girls in his class bringing a little pink notebook all covered in rhinestones. She said it was the Notebook of Friendship, and it was made to bring people closer.
The concept was easy. The first few pages were filled with curious questions that were vital (at their age, at least) in an art of friend-making. All others pages were for other classmates to fill. Everyone could read answers of the other person, and if you wanted to talk with someone after finding out that you share the same favourite cartoon, you could.
Given their age, it was nothing grand or deep. She asked about favourite colours, birthday date, hobbies or even a favourite parent. Still… Tim stole a few questions from that memory for his own questionnaire. Just for starters. After all… he didn’t know Jason’s favourite colour, anyway. He could guess it was red, considering everything, but who the fuck knew? He definitely didn't.
Once the first ten question was written down, Tim realised that he needed more. With someone like Jason, he had only one try. So, he definitely planned to put his whole soul in this project.
The next fifty questions were centred on their nighttime job, since there were so many things Tim was always curious about; both before Jason died and after. Who was his favourite superhero to work with? And what was the most embarrassing moment in his career? Did other parts of his armour had a bomb inside it, or it was only helmet? What was his work-out routine? And did he have a favourite way to kill?
All of that led him to realisation that he asked everything but… something personal.
Tim was tiptoeing around that for a while. Bluntly speaking, he wasn’t sure what kind of topics would make Jason want to grab the pen, and which would end up bringing this book to the dumpster.
That’s how he found himself approaching Alfred with a one, simple question — what Jason used to like before… before everything went down the hill?
Among all family members, Tim trusted Alfred with this task the most.
Bruce would shut him off, since speaking about Jason was still one of the hardest thing you could ask him to do. Dick… Dick will definitely spiral out if he realised that he either forgot something or didn’t know about to begin with.
And Alfred just got excited, when the question left Tim’s mouth. In a way, his eyes lit up, and corners of his lips twitched in a short, touched smile. With other family members avoiding conversations about Jason all together or not caring that much about his existence to begin with… he must've been lonely in his grief about the boy he loved so much once. Of course, Tim was happy to indulge him. Especially since he was curious himself.
According to Alfred, Jason was the smartest and the kindest soul. He adored books and was curious about everything and anything, especially taking a special time to learn about what Alfred liked. He loved reading, and dreamt of getting a literature degree in the future. Kids had a soft spot in his heart, even the most annoying ones, and he always volunteered to fix the Batmobile once it got broken. And, apparently, he was good enough at cooking; that good that Alfred trust him with the kitchen, it seemed.
Tim was… taken aback a little by the end of his speech.
Not because Jason being a total nerd was surprising for him — who else would be referencing (quoting, even) Shakespeare, while hitting someone with a crowbar? — but because… Alfred didn’t speak of Jason in the past, as others did. He still considered Jason to be all of these things, and maybe… maybe, he was right all along.
So, he thanked Alfred quickly, and filled his questionnaire with another fifty questions, rounding it to a hundred.
The next time Jason followed him — much like a cat, balancing on the edge of the rooftop — Tim threw the printed out book with questions straight in his face, earning a thread of mushed curses.
Well. It was only a matter of time now.
He couldn’t wait to see the results of his hard work.
The next two weeks passed in a blur. Tim was having a hard time dealing with an indescribable amount of work that landed on his shoulders, and Jason — according to Dick — was out of the town with Outlaws, dealing with some case in the capital.
Begrudgingly, he admitted that he missed their game of cat and mouse. Even more, he was curious if he was ever going to receive his questionnaire back. Jason probably forgot about it completely, leaving it to dust in his apartment. Which was understandable, but… well, Tim had rights to feel bitter about it, right?
Right—
‘What the fuck?!’
When someone broke inside his place through the window, interrupting his sweet nap time, Tim’s first reaction was to throw in the intruder the first thing that was under his hand. His favourite pillow.
He didn’t expect that someone was going to throw it back in his face.
‘Jeez, Timbo… your aim suck.’
Tim squinted.
In the darkness of the room, it was a little bit hard to see the person inside his room, but he had no doubts that it was Jason-fucking-Todd in his domino mask, with a stupid loop-sided smirk on his face, and something else in his hands that Tim prayed wasn’t a gun.
‘Your stalking policies had changed or something?’ He relaxed, trying to suppress a yawn. ‘If you wanted to watch me sleeping, you needed first to wait for me actually to fall asleep, dummy. Give me a three minute, and you can return, though.’
‘I am not a stalker!’
Tim scrunched his nose; Jason was smelling like powder and smoke so vibrantly that it filled the room in the instant. It made him realise that Jason was probably fresh back from his trip with Outlaws. Which was… curious, at least. What was so urgent for him to drop by Tim first?
‘So… do you need something? Because I really, really want to sleep.’
‘I was just dropping your questionnaire stuff,’ Jason unceremoniously threw the book in Tim’s chest, earning a surprised yelp from him. ‘And here goes your version.’
The second book on his lap.
Tim blinked slowly, still too sleepy to figure out what that supposed to mean.
‘My… Huh?’
‘What?’ Jason rolled his eyes, looking strangely defensive. ‘Don’t you think I have questions, too?’
Tim picked up both of the books, and stared at them for a while. Jason’s version of the questionnaire was far longer than his, judging by the amount of pages, but the one that Tim gave him weeks ago was heavier now. Judging by the amount of bookmarks and additional pages that were sticking out of it, this dude annotated the whole thing.
…
Not only Jason didn’t flip him off, but… he actually carried it around during his mission, while preparing questions for Tim, too?
Things were doing too good.
He was definitely sleeping right now.
‘Jason—’
‘By the way, I could tell you dropped from the school,’ he interrupted him, swinging one of his legs out of the window already. ‘You suck at grammar. And you keep putting commas everywhere you want them to be.’
A very realistic dream.
‘You, stupid bitch—’
Jason escaped his room before Tim could explain that commas existed for being put between words according to how aesthetic they looked, not to follow some stupid rules. If anything, Jason brought this on himself for caring enough to notice!
Laying down on the bed, Tim scoffed. It was a very ridiculous dream.
(Except, it wasn’t. In the morning, books were still here. And Jason did proofread the whole questionnaire as it was homework, marking his mistakes with a red pen like some kind of elementary teacher.
Tim hated his guts.)
What is the strangest childhood memory you have?
I once saw my neighbour (he lived in the house that was straight in front of us) killing his little daughter. I was a kid myself, and I remember telling about it to my mom, but she couldn’t believe it. She thought I was imagining things. But I saw him dumping a strange bag in the dumpster later, and I had never seen poor Joseline on the streets again. Looking back, I think mom believed me, but he wanted me not to think about it much.
Do you have a favourite movie?
“Suburbia”, I think, was one of my favourites, when I was Robin. And “10 Reasons Why I Hate You”, because Heath Ledger is great like that, and because I like romcoms. Now… well, I watched a few new movies recently, and figured out that I might add “Capernaum” in the list as well.
Agent A told me you wanted to try to learn how to bind books once. Any luck?
I completely forgot about this until now. Ask me again in a few months, I’ll share how it went. Probably.
Rank our family members by their vigilante identities. From worse to best.
Nah, I am not doing that. But you would make it to top three.
The funniest thing that happened to you and B on patrols?
Don’t ask details, but once we were fighting with a certain someone, and the glitter bomb was thrown on B. He didn’t notice in the rush of the fight, but it (and it was disgustingly pink, too) stuck all over his suit. I didn’t say a thing. He walked like this until we met up with Jim, and he burst out, laughing. Man, I wish I had a photo from that day.
The sensory sensation that gives you an ick? Like, wet socks or something.
Two words: Lazarus Pit.
‘Okay, I am going insane.’
Jason let out a short, almost cattish hiss as Tim unceremoniously jumped on the leather couch in front of him.
‘Who is stalker now?’ Jason muttered under his breath, swallowing down the piece of chocolate cake.
In Tim’s defence, he tried to find the most optimal free time to talk with Jason.
But it turned out, Jason was a rather… busy person. Like a main character of some stupid open world action RPG, he seemed to have a bunch of side quests that didn’t make sense at all. Like a fucking cooking contest in the Park Row. Or chess games with his goons. Whatever, really.
Finally, Jason decided to have a one normal breakfast in some small café not so far from his main house. So, of course, Tim latched in this possibility to join him before he decided to… Dunno, become a magician.
‘Your questionnaire has five hundred and thirteen question, Jason,’ Tim continued, placing the book between them with a dramatic thud. ‘Which is longer than mine in four times.’
And that without mentioning that half of these questions had a little sub-questions under them!
‘Aren’t you too old for playing measuring games with boys?’ Jason cracked out, awfully smug for someone, who joked so badly.
Tim rolled his eyes.
‘My wrist hurts, dude.’
‘This conversation sounds worse with every next sentence, Timmy.’
Letting out the most irritated sigh in his arsenal, Tim pinched his hand. Jason only indifferently shrugged at this. The woman in his forties behind the counter — seemingly — the owner of this place, kept throwing amused glances in their direction.
‘So, what?’ Jason sipped on some black liquid in the cup, which probably was a black coffee; an insane man, really. ‘Giving up already?’
‘Don’t put words in my mouth,’ Tim protested quickly. ‘Quite the opposite, I have a business proposition for you.’
‘I don’t accept cash, only firstborns.’
‘...How about, I’ll answer on these questions in real life, instead?’ Jason paused, his face frowning a little. ‘Face to face. In real life conversation. Like—’
‘I got it.’
Truth to be told, Tim was lying. If he really wanted to write down all answers, he would. He wrote reports far worse for the Wayne Enterprises. But how else they were going to bond? Just mailing each other books with questions felt ridiculous. And unlike Jason, Tim had absolutely no problem trauma-dumping to people’s faces!
‘So… What do you think?’
Jason seemed to ponder about it for a little as he dragged the work around the plate, scrabbling the chocolate around in a way it seemed he was trying to clean it up. And judging by the fact that Jason admitted being a total clean freak, Tim wouldn’t be surprised.
‘Uh, well, yeah, I am free on Friday nights,’ he muttered. ‘I guess.’
Tim allowed himself to spread in a very satisfied smile.
‘We also could talk about in during patrols. Sometimes.’
Something in Jason’s stance shifted, getting far more tense. He put the plate back, making the fork clank against it loudly, and still, without meeting his eyes, he chucked bitterly:
‘I am not in your family comms, remember?’
Tim winced.
A strange sentimentality washed over him, and for a second, Jason seemed to appear in his eyes not as an intimidating, poisonous older brother that he knew, but as the boy that clawed his way out of his own grave, murmuring his father’s name over and over again.
“I think I asked nurses to call Bruce, once I woke up in the hospital. I think one of them joked about my father being Bruce Wayne. They ignored my further attempts to make them listen,” he wrote, answering to Tim’s question about his first memories after death.
‘We can make a one for us only,’ he blurted out.
Jason looked… dumbfounded. His eyes widened a little, and he only turned them back to Tim to search for the tiniest hint of joke in his features. And once he failed to find it… his face just softened helplessly.
It was the first time Jason looked at him so genuinely, so… softly. Usually, this expression was reserved for kids on the streets and Alfred with Dick.
But now, Tim was in this list, too, wasn’t he? List of people Jason… liked. Considered to be family? Trusted, maybe?
‘This shit is so going to piss off everyone… You know that, right, baby bird?’
Baby bird! Not Timbo, Timmers or any other stupid nickname Jason usually generated for him, but a baby bird! He had no doubts now. His mission by befriending Jason was more than successful, whether he realised it or not.
‘And here I thought you live for pissing this family off.’
Jason smirked, leaning to ruffle his hair.
‘Well, you are not wrong.’
Tim rolled his eyes, but didn’t do anything to move away.
Oh, the fun they are going to have!
“This is ridiculous. Since when Hood and Red even close like this?”
“Urgh, I don’t know, Robin. But Little Wing had an audacity to tell me that Red is his favourite family member now. Over me, over my still warm, breathing body.”
“Amusing. Red told me the same about Hood. Not like I care.”
“I would rather prefer you to focus on the mission at the hand, boys.”
“Yes, fa— Batman.”
“And let’s enjoy the peace. If their friendship is what it takes to make Hood visit family dinners, then we shouldn’t intervene.”
“Copy that, B.”