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Over the years the pain of his parents’ deaths has lessened, probably more than it ever will for Bruce, but Dick will be the first to admit that he still has his days. One of these days always seems to roll around every year around the middle of July: specifically the 19th. The day they fell.
Dick always tries to roll it off but seems to inevitably end up either going to bed while it’s still the afternoon or finding his way to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. He’s never been much of a drinker but something about that day just has him seeing the moment the line gave way over and over again. It’s not fun to watch even with alcohol to numb the memory.
It’s the first time he’s been at the manor for this day in years. He always avoids Bruce and Alfred on days like this but last night there had been an unexpected complication in the mission and he had just been too damn tired to make his way back to his own apartment at the end of the night.
He wakes up around 11:00 and stumbles down to the kitchen, happy to discover that he’s just in time for breakfast. He takes a plate from Alfred without even looking at the content before plopping down beside Tim and Bruce at the table.
“Morning, Dick,” Bruce says.
“Morning,” He mumbles, picking up his fork to dig into his breakfast and…
“Um… Alfred? Is this… salami?” He asks, eyeing the unfamiliar red circle next to his eggs.
“Yes. Fried salami,” Alfred replies.
“It’s Tim’s favorite,” Bruce adds.
“My nanny always used to make it for me,” Tim explains, blushing a little.
“Oh,” Dick says. He’s never exactly thought of salami as a breakfast dish, but he likes it on his sandwiches, so he can deal with this. He takes a bite and chews thoughtfully.
“Yeah... it’s good,” He says.
Tim smiles at him a little. Something about today already feels off, but not in the usual way. Dick just can’t put his finger on what it is.
“What time is Steph picking you up?” Bruce asks, changing the topic.
Tim glances at him, strangely nervous, and then turns back to Bruce. “In about an hour?”
“Where are you two going?” Dick inquires.
“Just a get together with some friends,” Tim says dismissively.
Bruce is looking between the two of them with a confused look on his face. Dick suddenly becomes conscious of his disheveled appearance. Then something like understanding crosses Bruce’s face and Dick wonders what the hell he could possibly be missing.
“Well, I should go get ready,” Tim says after a long and awkward silence that is filled only by the sound of forks scraping against plates.
He escapes to his room and away from the strange tension in the air.
“So, you gonna tell me what I’m missing?” Dick asks once Tim’s back is no longer visible.
“I’m… Not sure it’s a good idea,” Bruce replies.
Dick feels a wave of familiar annoyance fill him at Bruce’s aloofness. This was the reason why he gave up Robin. Bruce always thinking he knew what was best for everyone.
“Come on, Bruce, don't mess with me like this. Not today.”
Bruce lets out a long sigh. “Today isn't just the anniversary of your parent’s death, Dick.”
Dick blinks, confused. “What else is it?”
“It’s Tim’s birthday.”
***
Dick doesn’t know how to react to this revelation. He should have known, of course. Tim came to the circus with his parents for his birthday. He feels a weird mix of guilty that he’s missed his little brother’s birthday for years and indignant that Tim would ever dare to try and celebrate on this day. He knows that’s unfair; Tim deserves a birthday and he can’t help that it just happens to be on the day that Dick’s parents were murdered.
He owes Tim an apology.
So he heads down the hall to the kid’s room and knocks on the door.
“Come in!” Tim says.
He’s still in pajamas, standing by his closet searching for a shirt.
“Hey,” Dick says, and Tim’s head snaps up. He obviously had not been expecting Dick when he said come in.
“Oh, hey Dick. What’s up?”
“I came to apologize. I didn’t know it was your birthday.”
“Oh,” Tim says, eyes widening slightly in shock. “It’s fine. I never really celebrated it, and I know it's a hard day for you.”
Dick shakes his head. “I’ve been wallowing in the past for too long. That was 13 years ago and my family now is what’s important. That’s what my parents would have wanted.”
“It’s okay. Really,” Tim insists. “I don’t even really want to have a party today. But Steph was really mad when she found I’d never had one and-”
“Wait. You’ve never had a birthday party? Like even when you were little?” Dick asks, scandalized.
Tim shakes his head. “I don't understand why it's a big deal.”
Now Dick feels like a really shitty older brother.
“What about your parents? They never did anything?”
Tim shakes his head again. “They were usually out of the country. We went out to dinner a few times. And they took me to the movies once.”
That’s… a little horrifying. Dick sometimes forgets how empty Tim’s childhood was. His was filled with so many interesting people and places, both with his parents and with Bruce, he can’t imagine only having a big empty house and people who were supposed to care about you that just… left.
He pulls Tim in for a hug. “I’m sorry I forgot your birthday.”
“Thank you,” Tim says, so quiet Dick isn’t sure he was supposed to hear him.
Dick can’t believe he ever considered being angry at Tim for this. Wishes he could take back every year he stayed home with a bottle of whiskey instead of being where it mattered. With his family.
***
The party is small. Steph, Babs (who looks both surprised and pleased to see him there), Cass, some of the Teen Titans, Harper, and, most surprisingly, Jason. Dick hadn’t even known the two of them were on good terms but here he was laughing, ruffling Tim’s hair and calling him Pretender without even a hint of malice in his voice.
Steph has decorated her apartment with blue and silver balloons, christmas lights, and one of those cheesy Happy Birthday! signs. Tim looks ecstatic about the whole thing.
There’s cake (oreo ice cream) and presents. They sit on the floor in a circle as Tim opens them. A lot of them are techy things that Dick can’t even pretend to understand but some of them are more personal, like the hand-knitted Star Wars hat from Stephanie or the annotated books from Jason. Dick apologizes repeatedly for not getting Tim anything before Jason flicks a piece of cake at him and tells him to stop whining.
Tim just shrugs. “Guess you just owe me two next year.”
Dick sends a grin his way. “Of course.”
Tim smiles. “I’m really glad you came, Dick.”
“Me too, Tim. Me too,” Dick says, wrapping his arm around Tim’s shoulders.
After all, there’s nothing more important than family.