Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason woke up, automatically reached out for his Batman stuffie, and squeezed it tight. There was sweat at the back of his neck, his heart was hammering, he couldn’t breathe.

He rolled over in his bed and pressed his face into his pillow. Then he let out a long groan.

He was a solid year into being a kid all over again, and there was a lot of stuff that still really annoyed him. There was the being all small and weak, of course. And having to relearn a million things really sucked. The worst thing by far, though, was how he couldn’t fucking handle himself without a grownup helping him through any kind of big emotion.

The nightmares happened basically as often as they always did, but with things the way they were, Jason knew he’d never be able to get back to sleep on his own, and that he’d be a total mess at school tomorrow if he didn’t. So, he had no other choice but to go to Bruce. That’s literally all it would take for Jason to calm down and forget all of the freaky images and scary emotions that were still twisting in his brain.

With a big sigh and with legs that still felt jittery from his bad dream, he rolled out of bed and tiptoed across the floor, leaving Batman on his pillow while he went to go find the real deal.

He didn’t even know what time it actually was except that it was late. The hallway was totally dark and Damian’s door was closed with the light turned off, which meant he’d got home from patrol already and was asleep. That’s why Jason got even more freaked out when he opened the door to his dad’s room and saw that no one was there.

Fuck. Shit.

Where was Bruce?

He wasn’t supposed to be out late tonight. He always told Jason when that was happening. They still had that stupid, babyish nighttime routine where Bruce read a story and tucked Jason in. It was nice and it made it so Jason was way less anxious. Bruce would always say what Batman’s schedule was for that night, and Jason would always remember it because he really, really needed to know when his dad would be home.

You could totally tell that Bruce hadn’t even been to bed yet, and so before Jason even really had a chance to think about it, he was heading all the way down multiple sets of stairs until he was in the cave.

He picked his way across the cold stone floor and wished he had something on besides bare feet and PJs, but there was a pounding in his chest that kept him moving forward even though he was cold. He needed to see Bruce. He needed to know what was happening. He—

There he was. Bruce was sitting in his giant swivel chair, staring at the monitors and frowning so heavily that he didn’t even notice that Jason was getting close. When Jason finally tucked in right against Bruce’s side, he did that sort of weird blink that he did when he was surprised, and then finally wrapped his arm around Jason and pulled him onto his lap.

“You’re awake.”

“I had a bad dream.” Jason tucked his face right into Bruce’s chest so that he didn’t have to talk very loud. “You weren’t upstairs.”

“Oh, bud, I’m sorry.” Bruce held onto Jason a little tighter. “Something… came up.”

“Well, can we get upstairs now?” It was always just like magic: the second Jason got close to Bruce, all of his fears from before disappeared. The tiredness was starting to sneak back in, though, and he let his eyes float closed.

But Bruce didn’t move from his spot. “I’m sorry, Jay, but I have to—”

“I’ve managed to get him settled, Master Bruce, but— Oh. Master Jason. Another bad dream, lad?”

Jason shrugged and blinked lazily over to Alfred. Underneath all of that, though, he was starting to think. It was weird that Alfie and Bruce were both down here this late at night. And who was it that needed to be ‘settled’?

“What’s going on?” He pushed himself up just far enough so he wasn’t totally lying on top of Bruce.

Both he and Alfred had very serious frowns on their faces, and it made that worried feeling from before start to bubble up inside him all over again.

“Tim,” Bruce finally said. “He was on a mission tonight. It went… sideways.”

Jason’s stomach twisted. “What kind of mission?”

He didn’t know that Tim was working on something on his own, and it actually looked like Bruce and Alfred didn’t know about it, either, because they both had super serious expressions on their faces.

“It’s been a long term one,” Bruce finally said. “He was looking into the Derwent case.”

Jason’s stomach twisted even tighter. “The guy who turned me into a kid?”

“Yes. Tim promised he was going to find the scientist that Derwent had hired, and he took that promise very seriously.”

“Yeah, but—” But that was a whole year ago. A million things had happened since then. Jason had kind of… Forgotten?

Okay, obviously, he couldn’t forget what had happened to him, but Chad Derwent was dead. And there was enough other stuff to worry about with being a kid and having to grow up. He hadn’t really thought about the people working for Derwent. The ones who’d actually made the weird serum that turned you into a kid again and then slowly poisoned you until you died.

It had been so scary back then. Jason had been worried he was going to die all over again; he’d been super messed up by the million little (and big changes) he’d had all at once. Things were way better now, and so it didn’t really make sense to keep going over all of it in his head.

But Tim had been thinking about all that? He’d been working away at the case for a whole year, probably doing all kinds of boring shit that you had to do with cold cases: looking through money stuff and old news stories and company statements and all that. It would have taken a long time to find anything, and then it was kind of dangerous because when Jason had been investigating all of this, that’s when—

Oh.

Shit.

There was no fucking way, right?

He slid off of Bruce's lap and ran for the med bay.

It couldn’t have happened to Tim. He was way too cautious and really smart and also stupidly lucky, so it just wasn’t going to…

Jason froze the second he saw Tim laying in the cot.

Tim was asleep. There was a little monitor clipped to his finger, and the numbers on the screen all looked good. Jason was learning about that from Alfred, so he knew what to look for.

But Tim was tiny.

He was just a little lump curled up on his side on the cot. His mouth was hanging halfway open, and his hair was all messy on the pillow. His tiny little fingers were curled up into tiny little fists and they were held against his tiny little chest.

He was little. Even younger than Jason. Somehow, he’d gotten tagged tonight while he was out trying to solve this case, and he had been doing it all for Jason.

Jason didn’t even realize he was crying until Bruce lifted him up and carried him away. The rest of the cave was too blurry and shadowy to see through all the tears.

“I know, I know,” he soothed, pressing those familiar circles into Jason’s back.

“He— he did it for…” Jason pulled in a deep, shaking breath that hurt his throat. “He was doing it for me!”

There was a hot, heavy pressure inside Jason’s head. He was gasping for air. Everything was wrong. Tim was hurt really bad and if he hadn’t been trying to help Jason… If he’d given up the case like Jason thought he’d done…

“It’s gonna… gonna kill him…” There was so much shit that Jason had forgotten in the last year, but he remembered this. That weird serum was toxic. It was poison. It would have killed Jason if he had… If he hadn’t decided that…

“Tim’s not going to die,” Bruce said. He kept Jason pressed tight against him as he sat back down in his chair.

“But he’s— he’s gonna be like me except… He’s even younger!” Jason dragged in a messy sniffle. Being six all over again had been shitty enough, but Tim was so tiny. Maybe three years old? He’d have way more stuff taken away from him.

“We have more information this time.” Bruce’s voice was low and soft and soothing just like it always was. “Dick was able to retrieve all the research notes from the lab, and Cass and Steph are on the trail to find Dr. Emerens, the scientist behind the serum. Tim was pretty sure he’d developed an antidote to the serum.”

“Yeah, but there’s still— We could still run out of time. Tim could get sicker and sicker and then… Then he’d have to choose just like me!”

Either die or have the serum removed from his body and get stuck as a kid. A year ago, that’s what Jason had to pick between. There hadn’t been another way.

Bruce was quiet for a second. Jason shivered and curled in closer.

“I’m… going to keep working hard to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Bruce finally said.

It shouldn’t have worked. There was a teeny part of Jason’s brain that was telling him that Bruce couldn’t promise this kind of thing. He wasn’t magical and he didn’t know what would happen. And there for sure hadn’t been a fix in time for Jason.

But the bigger part of his brain just wanted to trust his dad. He didn’t want to be scared or mad or anything else. If Bruce said he could do it, then that’s all that mattered, right?

With a quiet little sigh, Jason let his muscles relax. “Okay.”

Bruce brushed his hand over Jason’s hair. “Okay.”

Jason thought of one other thing. “You should give him that medicine I took. The one that kept me from forgetting as much? If he starts it right away, I bet none of that would happen to him.”

So then, no matter what, Tim would be better off than Jason was.

“You’re right,” Bruce agreed quietly. “That’s a really good idea, Jay.”

Jason nodded and then rested his head against Bruce’s chest.

Bruce kept brushing his fingers through Jason’s hair. “I’m sorry I can’t come upstairs tonight. I need to go over Tim’s blood tests and compare it to the other samples we have. Maybe you could find Damian—”

“No!” Jason grabbed the front of Bruce’s shirt with his fist. “I— I just wanna stay with you, okay? I promise I’ll be really quiet and really still and— and…”

“Shh, it’s okay, Jason. You don’t have to go anywhere. You can stay here. We just need to stay quiet. Tim needs all the rest he can get.”

“I’ll be super quiet. I swear.” Jason wriggled in his spot, getting a bit more comfortable. He was… maybe a little too big to be sharing a rolly chair with Bruce like this. He was actually growing up, even if it was happening way slower than he wanted it to.

But tonight, he didn’t care about what it looked like or what someone his age should be doing, whatever that even meant for him anymore. He just needed to be close to his dad. It kept all the fears and twisty thoughts out of his head, and made it so he could stay relaxed and calm. Maybe even a little sleepy.

With his eyes closed, he could hear the keyboard clicking away, the fabric of Bruce’s shirt against his ear, and that steady sound of Bruce’s slow, deep breathing. Then, eventually, Jason fell asleep.

Chapter Text

For years now, Damian had been attempting to create some sort of system to alert him when there was an emergency down in the cave. He was extremely capable of handling all sorts of situations and the fact that, in the eyes of the United States government, he was legally a minor was of no consequence.

Unfortunately, his father had sabotaged every single attempt so far, especially anything designed to work after Damian’s ridiculous curfew or during the school day. Richard and Alfred were also actively working against him, and Damian had yet to solve the problem against such a formidable team.

All of this meant that Damian was caught completely unaware when he went downstairs for breakfast that morning and was greeted with a child-sized Timothy Drake sitting at the table.

“I’m merely saying,” he said as he jabbed his knife into the jam jar, “that if I had been involved with the operation—”

“It would have been extremely dangerous,” Father cut in. “You’re fifteen, which is at least how many years both Jason and Tim lost.”

Damian eyed his impossibly miniscule, babyish brother. “Perhaps more.”

Tim’s head snapped up and he looked at Damian for the first time. “I’m not that yid—” He cut himself off, swallowed, and attempted the word again. “Little.”

“Tt.” Skeptically, Damian spread his jam across his scone. The situation became even more frustrating when Jason joined them at the table and apparently already knew everything.

“I went downstairs to see Dad,” he explained with a shrug. He let Alfred serve him a scoop of scrambled eggs and a piece of toast, and then he turned towards Tim. “You were asleep the whole time, though. How, um… I mean, are you feeling okay?”

Timothy hunched his very narrow shoulders. From his standard-sized seat, he barely cleared the height of the table and his empty plate looked especially large placed in front of him. Silently, he shrugged.

Jason bit his lip. He drew in a breath to speak and then seemed to give up on it. Turning back to his breakfast, he poked at his eggs with his fork. An awkward silence descended in the room.

Damian took an uncomfortable bite of his scone. It was always difficult to navigate these sorts of heavy emotions, especially without Richard here. Damian’s skill set had always been geared towards action rather than comfort. Which was precisely why it was so frustrating he hadn’t been called last night.

“I could have assisted downstairs,” Damian insisted. “There was clearly no danger there, seeing as how Jason was permitted to help.”

Jason fiddled with his fork. “Well, I wasn’t actually, like, helping…”

“I’m not hungry!” Tim’s high-pitched voice cut through the current conversation, and then he blinked, suddenly stunned by what he had just happened. “Sorry, Aw— Aw… Alfie. I didn’t mean…”

Alfred waved the offence off with the grace he always did, but Damian continued to subtly observe Tim while eating his own breakfast without complaint.

It was horrifying. Tim sat in his seat, clearly uncomfortable and clearly self-conscious. All of his former confidence had been drained completely. He stared at his empty plate, totally unaware of Father’s heavy concern and the looks he was getting from Damian and Jason. When he was finally convinced to have a glass of orange juice, he had to lift it with two hands because his grip was so small and weak.

They needed to fix this as quickly as possible. The serum couldn’t be allowed to upend their family for a second time, and Damian knew that there was a pressing time limit to be able to come up with a solution.

“I have a plan for today,” Father shared as he accepted another cup of coffee. “We have the old files of everything that we were trying for Jason, so we can restart those algorithms and continue to search for an antidote, right, Tim?”

Silently, Tim stared back up at Father. There was a ring of juice around his upper lip. After an uncomfortable beat of silence, he seemed to realize they were waiting for a response of some sort, so he nodded.

“Alright.” Carefully, Father took the cup of juice from him. “I know the medication we started you on can cause nausea, but it’ll be better if you try to eat at least something,”

Tim thought about it for a painfully long period of time before he finally suggested, “Toast?”

Alfred nodded. “I would be happy to make you some, Master Tim. And anything else you feel up to eating.”

The little scene gave Damian plenty to think about as he ate the rest of his breakfast. It was clear that Father wasn’t going to budge on Damian being able to do field work on this case, even though Cassandra and Stephanie were somehow permitted to. And although Damian was extremely knowledgeable and intelligent, complex bioengineering formulations were not his area of specialty.

But there were many elements that contributed to a smoothly running team. Alfred effortlessly handled many of those, but perhaps there were some ways that Damian could lighten the load.

“I am ready to leave for school now,” he announced. “Perhaps Alfred could take Jason and me in one trip, which would allow you to have more time working downstairs, Father.”

Father nodded, and he flashed Damian something that almost looked like a smile. “That would be great. Thank you, Damian.”

“No, but— But Dad always drives me to school!”

Patiently, Damian turned to his younger brother. “Father will need to spend his time downstairs working on a potential formulation for Timothy. The sooner he can create an antidote, the better.”

“I know, I…” Jason huffed out a sigh, suddenly embarrassed. “I wasn’t thinking, okay?”

“I’m sorry, Jay,” Father offered. “You know that I love driving you to school, but—”

“I get it! You don’t have to— I’m not actually gonna be a little kid about this. I’m… gonna go get ready.” He slid off of his chair and left the room, leaving half a piece of toast on his plate.

Father’s eyes followed him for a few moments before finally turning back to Damian. “Thank you.”

Damian straightened his shoulders. Maybe it wasn’t as heroic as rushing into danger or defeating someone in combat, but there was honour in looking after all of the other necessary tasks while others went into battle. He had truly taken that to heart.

“I will help however I can,” he promised. Then he turned to Timothy. “And we will not rest until a cure is found.”

So far, Tim was doing a great job of holding it together.

So what if he had gotten tagged with a toxic serum like an absolute idiot? So what if it was the same thing they hadn’t been able to fix for Jason exactly a year ago? So what if he was suddenly stuck in a body that was small, weak, and just plain weird?

He could handle it. He was handling it.

They’d gotten him on the memory meds right away, so he knew that his mind was going to be preserved. There were already a million step stools all over the place thanks to Jason, and Tim was pretty much tall enough that they did the trick for him. Plus, even though he could tell that his emotions were slightly more intense and easily triggered than usual, he had a handle on it.

So, the only real issue was that Tim would have to put up with a few days of discomfort and awkwardness before they figured out some sort of solution and then everything would be back to normal. Simple.

He was down in the cave, perched on a chair that now felt crazy tall while he stretched out his stubby little fingers to reach the keys of his laptop. The muscle memory thing was a total pain because he couldn’t touch type anymore, but he could hit the down arrow repeatedly as he skimmed over his spreadsheet of failed formulations from last time.

It was done in alternating colours for ease of reading just like he always did, and he let his eyes glaze over as his little highlighted rectangle bounced downwards: blue, white, blue, white.

“Tim.”

Blue, white, blue, white.

“Tim. You really should eat something.”

Tim blinked. He pulled his finger off the keyboard.

Bruce was sitting right beside him at the desk, lit from behind by the wall of monitors for the batcomputer. There was a deep wrinkle of concern right between his eyebrows, and a plate of crackers, sausage, and cheese sitting right in front of him.

He pushed it towards Tim. “You had barely anything at breakfast. I know it’s hard, but you need to keep your strength up.”

Tim took a look at the plate. Everything was sliced to precision, but arranged haphazardly, so Bruce had probably put it together himself. Having finger food already cut into bite-sized pieces made it way less overwhelming. Tim hadn’t tried to use any kind of cutlery since all this had happened, but he knew it’d be… well…

Nope, he wasn’t going to think about it. They’d fix this before he had to confront that problem. For now, he could eat this, keep up his strength, and then find a way out of this mess he’d dug himself into.

He pulled the plate a little closer to him, picked up a piece of sausage, and popped it into his mouth.

Oh, wow, no. Gross. That wasn’t gonna happen. He wrinkled his nose and spat it out back onto his plate.

“I don’t like it.”

There was a little beat of silence before Bruce finally replied. “Okay. You don’t have to eat it. Maybe try the—”

“No! I don’t like it!” And it was still on the freaking plate! There was a bunch of the gross sausage pieces all there in a little pile, plus the really gross one that he’d already chewed. He didn’t want any of it, but it was still there and it just needed to go away right this second because— because…

“Okay, okay. How about I just…” Bruce opened a napkin and collected all of the gross food into one big handful. With a twist, he balled up the napkin and then set it far away on the edge of the desk. “There. It’s gone, see?”

Tim took a deep breath. His face felt a little too warm, and his chest felt a little too tight, but now that the sausage was gone, everything was starting to get better.

“Do you want to try the cheese?” Bruce suggested warily.

Carefully, Tim picked up a little slice of it. Maybe it’d be gross like the sausage, but he should at least try some of it. Bruce was right; he needed to eat.

He took a nibble. It wasn’t that bad! And it was nice that the piece was easy to hold in his hand. He could pinch it with the tips of his fingers and bite little, tiny curvy shapes into the edge with his teeth.

Bruce let out a slow sigh. “Okay. That’s good?”

Tim nodded. He took another nibble of cheese.

“Alright. Eat that, and if you’re still hungry we’ll ask Alfred to make you something else.”

“No sausage,” Tim said.

The corner of Bruce’s mouth twitched upwards. “No. Just whatever sounds good to you, okay?” He reached out with his massive hand and pushed it through Tim’s hair.

It felt huge and a little scary, but also… weirdly nice. There had been a low-key anxiety jangling inside of Tim ever since this disaster had happened, but somehow Bruce’s touch had soothed it completely.

Jason had talked about that. How being super young again made those sorts of comforts feel so much more powerful. Hearing about it was still different from feeling it for himself, and it was weird how quickly it had set in. Even just being here one-on-one with Bruce was nice.

Way nicer than all the pressure upstairs at breakfast with Damian’s evaluating stare and Jason’s stilted conversation. Alfred had been supportive and kind, of course, but in the end, it was also a whole other person who was now a giant to Tim. Everything had been loud and big and busy. Even just sitting at that big, fancy dining room table had somehow put Tim on edge.

Here, it was just Tim and Bruce, and it seemed a lot easier. A lot calmer.

Tim took another bite of cheese. It was getting really small, so it was hard to do without his fingers getting messy. Stupid tiny little things.

With a hum, Bruce handed him another piece. Oh, yeah, that would solve it, wouldn’t it? Tim popped the rest of his cheese into his mouth and took the new slice from Bruce.

“Fanks,” he said. Then he frowned and worked at it. “Thanks.” Ugh, these speech issues sucked. Out of all his struggles, it was probably the thing that people noticed the most.

“It’s okay when that happens,” Bruce reminded him for the millionth time. “I can understand you fine.”

“Yeah, but I can talk wike— like I normally do. I just have to remember to try.”

“Hmm.” He handed Tim another piece of cheese.

Chewing on that, Tim let his eyes wander over to the monitors. It seemed like Bruce was working on, like, seven things all at once. There were open chat windows, lab results, research notes…

“Did you find anything yet?”

Bruce’s gaze cut over to Tim as he finished whatever he was typing. “I have a… theory. Of how we can slow the progression of the toxin.”

“Really?” Tim sat straighter in his chair, making sure he didn’t tumble right off of it. “That’s a new angle.”

“Well, not new.” Bruce opened a new window on the computer. “The idea came to me a few months ago.”

“Oh.” Months? Long after Jason had committed to a second childhood. Long after the cancer had killed Derwent.

“Yeah.” That big strong hand carded through his hair again. “You’re not the only one who kept this case on your mind. I kept trying to think if there was anything we could have done differently.”

And that was so Bruce wasn’t it? Even though everyone could tell he was having the time of his life parenting Jason as a kid, he was still spending time obsessing over how he could have prevented it in the first place.

It wouldn’t do Jason any good anymore, not with the serum totally gone from his system. But now it might help Tim.

“Boosting your liver function will help prolong the window of time we have until the toxin reaches critical levels,” Bruce said as he pulled up a bright graph onto the screen. The colours looked really cool. “You’re smaller than Jason was, so it would be hard to say exactly, but I think we could buy us a couple weeks at least.”

Right. That was a good thing. It meant that they didn’t have to rush as much. Tim could just… stay like this for… for as long as…

And why the hell was he crying now? It was good news! It was a better deal than Jason got with this, but Tim still had tears running down his face and snot somehow mixed in with his cheese slice.

“I know, Tim. I know it’s hard. Come here.”

Suddenly, Bruce had his incredibly massive arms around Tim and was lifting him up out of the chair. It was extremely weird and totally freaky and Tim panicked for a split second, all the way up until Bruce settled him right onto his lap.

It was magic. All that mounting wrongness rushed out of him in one big swoop. His muscles released every bit of tension that he didn’t even know he had, and he found himself melting totally against Bruce’s chest. There was a deep rumble as Bruce let out a gentle hum.

Another napkin appeared out of nowhere. Bruce gently cleaned off Tim’s messy face and handed him yet another piece of cheese. Tim just let it all happen. It was nice not to worry about what the next move should be.

He looked at the little orange-coloured slice that was gripped in his chubby little hand. The cold of the cave felt a lot better now that he was this close to Bruce. He could keep his head tucked in and concentrate only on Bruce, on his snack, and on how he could breathe way easier now even though he was curled into this tight little pocket.

“I feel weird,” he confessed. That was probably a good thing to tell Bruce because that’s the only reason why he was taking a break from his laptop. Later, he could get back into it.

Bruce hummed again. “I know. I’m working to fix it, okay?”

Tim mumbled a reply through a mouthful of cheese and then he shifted to get a little bit further into his warm hidey-hole. The weird feeling was still there, but it was way better than before. And if Bruce was working to fix everything, then…

Then Tim didn’t need to worry at all.

With his arms piled high with supplies, it took a little more effort than usual for Dick to get into the manor, stop to unload a few things in the fridge, and navigate his way down to the den where Bruce had told him to come.

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything from the list. But I swear Alfred was pulling my leg with the— Oh my god, look at him.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t move a muscle from his spot on the sofa.

“Seriously.” Dick dropped his bags onto the coffee table and then leaned in closer to Tim. “Someone should have sent me some pictures because this is—”

“You’ll wake him up,” Bruce chided softly.

Dick rocked back on his heels. “Right. Yeah, looks like he needs the rest.”

Tiny little Timmy was currently zonked out against Bruce’s chest, mouth hanging open and fists curled in right under his chin. His bangs flopped over his forehead and his tiny little bare toes were sticking out on Bruce’s lap.

“I brought socks,” Dick finally said, keeping his voice purposefully soft. “And the other clothes Alfred said. Plus all the yogurt?”

“Thank you. It’s one of the few things Tim seems to like, but Jason will probably want some for an after school snack and Alfred didn’t have time to stop by the grocery store before leaving to pick up the boys.”

“Right…” Wild to think that this was Bruce’s life: coordinating school pick-ups, making sure that there was plenty of that very specific strawberry-banana yogurt in the fridge. Although it was going to be short-lived. They were all doing everything they could to make sure this was temporary. “What’s the latest news?”

Bruce’s expression shuttered. “Cass and Stephanie are still following leads. I’ve been sorting through data downstairs, but so far there hasn’t been anything that would lead to a cure.”

“Well, we have time, right? I saw your message about the toxicity thing. Worse comes to worst, we put out a statement, Tim goes on ‘vacation’ for a while, and we just keep working away at things.”

Shrugging, Bruce stared back down at Tim.

“Something’s worrying you.” Dick shifted forward in his seat. All these years with Bruce, and they were still doing the same song and dance.

Bruce brushed his thumb over Tim’s miniscule knuckles, and then finally said, “He seems less self-aware compared to Jason.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just…” Bruce gave his head a shake before finally looking at Dick square on. “Jason has always been conscious that his behaviours and thought processes have changed. There have been times where I thought it’d be easier if he wasn’t so aware. Tim’s been different.”

The pieces were starting to come together for Dick. After all these years, he had a PhD in following Bruce’s train of thought.

“You think something’s changed with his memories? I thought you started him on those meds right away.”

Bruce frowned. It was the one he’d always get when he was stuck on a puzzle without an answer. “It’s difficult to tell. I’ve been quizzing him, and he doesn’t seem to have any knowledge gaps like Jason does. By all rights, the medication should work.”

“But he’s acting differently. Like how?”

“Like… a very young child.”

Which could mean a million different things, although the fact that Tim was currently conked out against Bruce’s chest was a pretty big clue. It wasn’t something that he’d ever do under normal circumstances, especially not in the family den where pretty much anyone could come across them. Oddly, though, it gave Dick more confidence than Bruce was showing.

“Are you sure it’s not just because he’s doing everything with a toddler brain rather than his usual one? That’d be like… trying to program the Batcomputer with a LeapPad.”

Bruce’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a very thematically appropriate analogy is what it is. My point is that Tim’s, what, three years old right now? Of course he’s going to have way less self-awareness than a seven-year-old kid.”

Slowly, Bruce nodded. He brushed his thumb down Tim’s nose.

“Besides,” Dick continued, “there’s stuff that Jay gets all weird about, but there’s also lots of stuff he doesn’t pick up on unless you point it out to him. Remember the whole double dipping incident?”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth lifted into something that almost looked like a smile. “Yes. Tim doesn’t seem to have much interest in food hygiene either.”

“Ha, yeah, I bet. But that’s all going to come back as soon as we figure out how to grow him back into his regular size. Give it a little time and we’ll all be teasing Timmy about the time he fell asleep in your lap and you let him stay for hours.”

Bruce looked down at the tiny child that was still sleeping against him. “He was becoming dysregulated earlier. The physical touch seems to help.”

“Of course it does. Because he’s so little now.”

“Hn. Yes.”

Grinning, Dick reached for the bag that was closest to him and began to unpack all the tiny clothing that he’d bought. He stood by what he said; they were going to find a fix for this.

At the same time, he had no clue what that fix would actually end up being.

Chapter Text

Even though there was a ton of stuff going on, Jason was still a little surprised when it was Alfred that came to pick him up from school that day. Bruce was basically always the one who picked Jason up and he always told Jason before if it was going to be someone else. Except on Wednesdays, because that was the day that Tim…

Well, Tim obviously couldn’t do that even if it was a Wednesday, and of course Bruce was way too busy working on a cure to take time to drive all the way into Gotham just to do a school pickup.

Duh.

Jason should have thought of that already.

“We’re in something of a rush, I’m afraid,” Alfred said as he grabbed Jason’s backpack by the handle and led them out of the playground. “Road construction is causing delays, and it will be a tight timeline to get to Gotham Academy in time for their dismissal.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s okay.” Jason pumped his short legs to keep up to Alfred, but once he buckled himself in, he had plenty of time to think in the car.

There was a weird feeling bubbling inside of him. Kind of like stress. Which was so stupid, because did it really matter that Jason didn’t have his dad picking him up from school? Or that they didn’t have time to play on the playground for a little like they usually did?

What was happening with Tim was way worse. He’d gotten really hurt, and they might not be able to fix it, and…

And he had been doing all this for Jason.

Gritting his teeth, Jason shoved all those messy emotions back down inside of himself. He wasn’t going to lose it in the backseat of the car on their way to pick up Damian. And it was stupid to get like this anyway. It wasn’t going to help Tim.

Jason didn’t even know what the fuck would help Tim because when they got home and actually saw him, it was wild.

Tim was flopped out on the floor in the hallway. His face was red, and he was full-on whining as Bruce tried to pick him up.

“No! I don’t wanna wear any of those!”

“Okay, Tim, I get it, but your other shirt got dirty, so—”

“Noooo!”

“Hey, guys!” Dick came out of nowhere, stepped in front of Tim and Bruce, and steered Jason and Damian towards the kitchen. “Tim’s just having a hard time right now. But I bought some new yogurt for you, Jay. You want it for a snack?”

Jason frowned. “What happened to my other stuff?”

He didn’t get a good answer about that, but Dick gave him the same kind of yogurt that he always liked, so it was okay. He could still hear Tim crying out in the hallway, though. And it was over a shirt?

Which, fin, Jason had done that with his hoodie a couple times, but only when he’d been really sick and really out of it. Tim… was probably feeling pretty bad then. Basically the same as how Jason felt when he had the chicken pox.

“I believe I will go assist,” Alfred said over the sound of little kid sobs. “It seems like a fresh load of laundry is in order.”

Dick gave him a tight smile. “I think that’d be great. I can take care of the boys here, Alfie.”

Jason swallowed another spoonful as he watched Alfred leave. That was another different thing. Usually, Alfred stayed in the kitchen for the whole time Jason was eating his after school snack. They talked about books and sometimes Jason got to help Alfred plan what they would cook for dinner.

After a little bit, the crying started to go down, so maybe it was worth it. And maybe Jason could tell Dick about the Lego tower he’d built with Ethan during free time today.

But before he could, Dick turned to Damian. “I’m heading out right away to meet up with Babs. We’re crazy short staffed, but we should be able to cover tonight. You good to partner with me?”

Damian nodded. “Of course. And, as you know, I can take on a much larger area than I am usually given. If you’re reallocating—”

“I knew I could count on you to take advantage of the situation,” Dick said with a grin. Then he finally turned back to Jason. “You still hungry, Jay? I think there’s some cheese strings in the fridge.”

Those were new. Had they bought those for Tim? Probably, huh? Jason hadn’t even thought about getting some of those since he’d been turned into a kid again. But no matter what it was, he could handle it himself! After school snacks were easy to figure out, and… it wasn’t really the food that Jason was wanting right now.

Finally, Bruce came into the kitchen. Jason straightened up in his stool so he could get a better look at his dad because he’d barely even got to see him since he came home.

He was carrying Tim with one arm, and he gave a wave to Jason and Damian with his other. “Nice to see you boys. I’m heading back downstairs right away.”

Oh. Jason slouched back down. Duh, obviously Bruce had a lot of super important work to do. Tim wasn’t fixed yet, so Bruce wouldn’t have time to listen about Lego towers or the new math Jason learned or the art project they were gonna start next week.

Tim was obviously having a really rough time, too. He had a new shirt on, but you could tell that he’d been crying a lot, and he still wasn’t saying anything. Those little kid emotions were no joke, Jason knew, and so obviously Tim was gonna need a lot more help getting through this. He hadn’t even looked up at Jason and Damian; he’d just stayed silent tucked right in Bruce’s arm the whole time.

“I have things handled up here,” Damian said. “I hope your work is productive.”

Bruce crinkled his eyes in Damian’s direction as he grabbed a handful of those cheese strings out of the fridge. “Thanks, Damian. That’s a huge help.” He walked over and gave Damian’s hair a ruffle.

There was still a mouthful of yogurt in Jason’s mouth, and he swallowed it quickly when Bruce came to him and did the same thing he’d done to Damian.

“Have a good, um, working… time.” Fuck, he didn’t even know how to put it in words.

But Bruce smiled anyway and then kissed the top of Jason’s head before he left with Tim.

It was over way too fast, and then Jason was just sitting there with his yogurt. He listened to Damian and Dick talk a little bit about patrol tonight, but mostly he just thought about things that were in his own head.

He hated that Tim was going through this, but how the hell was he supposed to help with any of it? Maybe there was some stuff he’d learned about downstairs, but he wasn’t even close to as good as everyone else. Plus, most of the time it took him longer to do that stuff, and no one had fucking time to wait for a kid to do something when they could do it so much better and faster.

But it was fine. He could deal. One thing he could do was make sure that no one needed to waste any time taking care of him.

So, he did as much stuff as he could on his own. He worked on his homework until he got a bit stuck on that new math, he cleaned his room, he read on his own. He also kind of avoided Tim.

It wasn’t— It wasn’t supposed to be a mean thing. It was just that… Tim hadn’t really talked to Jason at all this whole time. He probably had a million other things to worry about right now. And… maybe he was mad at Jason that he’d got hurt?

Jason knew he should probably say sorry and everything, but it also felt really hard to do that when everyone was working really hard together and keeping really busy. Plus, there was no way Jason was gonna be able to do that without getting stupidly emotional, and that wasn’t gonna help at all. He could do it after. Once Tim was totally better. For now, it’d be better to not talk about it.

And avoiding Tim actually wasn’t that hard. He was still totally attached to Bruce any time Jason saw him, which Jason totally got. Having Bruce right there when you were a kid made everything a lot better, so Jason could let his brother have their dad for the day.

It was the right thing to do.

He shouldn’t feel upset about it.

Even though he didn’t ever get a chance to tell Bruce about his day at school. Even though they didn’t get to eat dinner together because Bruce worked all the way through it. Even though Jason barely even got to even see Bruce the whole time.

It was fine.

Fuck.

He reminded himself that exact same thing over and over again as he laid in bed that night, flat on his back and staring up at his dark ceiling. It was nine o'clock. He was in his PJs with his teeth brushed. He had Batman tucked under his arm. He’d done all of that all by himself without anyone telling him to, but he still wasn’t even close to being able to sleep. There was a crawly, sour feeling in his stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Bruce was still coming, right? Sure, he’d been really busy with everything else, but Jason had kinda thought…

A set of steady footsteps came down the hall. They were light, but something about them also felt big, and Jason knew exactly who they belonged to.

He shot out of bed, padded across his room, and stuck his head out of the door just in time to catch Bruce, who was heading back towards the stairs.

“Jason?” He stopped and stared. “What time is it?”

Jason curled his toes in. “Just after nine.”

“Oh.” Bruce’s hands hung by his sides; he didn’t even try to give Jason a hug or ruffle his hair or anything. “And you’re not asleep already?”

“Well, I was waiting for—” A rush of heat rose up from his chest. Fuck, if Bruce had forgotten then… “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

“Oh, buddy.”

There was a heavy look of sympathy on Bruce’s face mixed with… Something that Jason couldn’t really figure out. The only thing he knew was that it made his throat feel all choked up and the spot behind his eyes feel sort of hot and heavy.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be doing this. He was almost eight! And he wasn’t even a real kid. He shouldn’t be getting all… all sad just because his dad had missed bedtime for a super important, really good reason.

“Whatever,” he forced out, digging his thumb into his eyeball so that you couldn’t tell there was a tear there. “I’m gonna go to sleep now, so—”

“Jason—”

“No!” Turning on his heel Jason stomped off into his room. Because now he was gonna throw a tantrum about the whole thing. Fuck.

“Jay, I really am sorry.” Bruce had followed him in, and he closed the door behind him. “I love our nighttime routine; I didn’t mean to miss it.”

A shiver passed through Jason, and he crossed his arms in front of his PJs. He was wearing Batman-themed ones tonight. He thought Bruce would like it and… and he’d really wanted Bruce to like something about him today. It was more of that same stupidness from before, but Jason was stuck with it now and couldn’t go back.

“I just got caught up,” Bruce explained. “With… everything.”

His eyes wandered off in the direction of his own bedroom, and oh that’s where Tim was sleeping for the night, wasn’t he? It made sense. Tim was really little for now. He probably needed Bruce to be close by for whatever might happen.

But that meant… if Jason had a bad dream, would there still be room for him there? Or would Tim take up all the space and Jason would have to— to…

Fuck.

“This is so stupid!” he growled, wiping hard to get all the tears to go away. No matter how much he tried, he kept acting like a baby about this whole thing.

“No, it’s not. It makes sense, Jay.”

Suddenly, Bruce was kneeling right down beside Jason and pulling him into a hug. It was as big and strong as it always was. When Jason finally leaned into it, his tears fell for real. He let his shoulders shake and breath get all gaspy and his nose get all runny.

It felt so good to finally let all that stuff out, and the worst of the crying didn’t actually last as long as he thought it would. Pretty soon he was just kind of quietly sniffling and starting to feel a little closer to normal.

“I know this situation is especially hard for you,” Bruce murmured as he pushed circles into Jason’s back. “It’s exactly what you’ve gone through before.”

“It’s harder for Tim,” Jason muttered.

“Maybe. Probably. But I still want to be here for you, too. That’s part of my job.”

It was funny; Bruce never used to be very good at this kind of stuff. He didn’t always pick up on why Jason was upset about something, and even if he did know, he didn’t always say the right thing.

That was totally different now, and maybe part of it was because Jason always made it super obvious what was bugging him? Or… maybe he could let go with this because he knew Bruce would get it right? It was hard to tell which one of them started changing first.

He dug his fingers into Bruce’s shirt, and took a deep breath. “I’m gonna be okay. I don’t… need a bedtime story.”

He didn’t. Yeah, maybe he liked it, and it helped him not have as many nightmares, but since Bruce was super busy right now…

And then Bruce suddenly swooped Jason up into his arms and carried him towards the bed. “Someday, you’re going to fully grow out of this stage, and you won’t want any kind of bedtime story. I’m going to make the most of every single night while I have you like this.”

With a pout, Jason tugged his covers into place and tucked his Batman back under his arm. “I know you have, like, research and shit you’re supposed to be doing.”

“Nothing that can’t wait another half hour. This is important, too.”

A nice, warm, soft feeling grew in Jason's chest. Bruce thought this was important. He thought Jason was important. It was such a basic thing, but it still felt so nice.

“Now, where did we leave off…” Bruce thumbed through the book they were working on as if he didn’t have the page number memorized from last night.

Jason bit his lip. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, Jay?”

“Tim’s… gonna be okay, right? You’re gonna fix him?”

Bruce put the book down and looked at Jason straight on. “He’s going to be fine, Jaylad. We’ll figure it out.”

And that was another thing that was kinda funny. Bruce didn’t used to talk like this, like he was totally confident that things would turn out okay at the end. Jason remembered that he actually used to tease Bruce about always planning for the worst-case scenario.

But now Bruce was talking like he was sure that Tim would be okay, all because Jason was worried about it.

Maybe it was a little bit of a lie. Or maybe Bruce was just sort of exaggerating. But he was doing it all to make Jason feel better, and that’s exactly what it did. He sounded so confident and sure of everything that the little sharp piece of fear inside of Jason melted away into nothing.

He didn’t need to worry about anything. His dad was going to figure it out.

Tim woke up, and he immediately started to cry. He didn’t even know why. It was just… It was…

Everything.

He’d felt it all day yesterday, and he’d tried so hard to push through like it wasn’t happening. But it was a brand-new day, and he already felt exhausted.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Huge, strong, steady Bruce wrapped Tim in a hug and pulled him close.

“I— I…” Tim gulped for air, and his whole body shuddered. “I feel bad.”

“I know. I bet there’s a lot of emotions in this tiny little body.”

Tim nodded. Yeah, that’s exactly what it was. And also… “I can’t think right.”

There was a pause, and then Bruce was running his hand through Tim’s hair again. “What do you mean?”

“I… I can’t…”

“What’s the capital city of Venezuela?”

Tim’s face wrinkled. “Caracas. Why?”

“Just… checking.”

Shrugging, Tim burrowed closer into Bruce. He had no idea what that was about, but it didn’t really matter anyway.

There were little hairs all over Bruce’s arm. They tickled Tim’s fingers. He could take his weirdly tiny hands and brush them across the hairs, and it gave him that tickling feeling all along his palms.

“Tim?”

He blinked. Dammit, that was part of it, too! He couldn’t hold onto a single thought for longer than a few seconds.

“I think maybe… you’re experiencing the limitations of a younger stage of brain development,” Bruce said very carefully. “Weaker emotional regulation, shorter attention span. Plus, some difficulty with abstract reasoning and divergent thinking.”

It was all… really bad news. But it also made sense.

Especially now that he was really starting to think about his day yesterday. He… hadn’t really done any work at all, had he? Even though he’d tried. He had his laptop right in front of him and… and he’d clicked on stuff…

It was like a picture that suddenly clicked into focus. Dammit, he’d been useless. Bruce had been doing stuff. And Dick, too. There were lots of people working to help him, but as for what he actually did…

With a sigh, he rested his head back against Bruce. “Yeah. Okay.”

“We’ll work around it,” Bruce said. “It’ll be okay, Tim.” He traced his finger over to outside of Tim’s ear. It made a fuzzy feeling cloud over in Tim’s mind, but he wasn’t ready for it yet! He had to say something else.

“Don’t—” He pushed away to sit on his own, even though it suddenly made him feel cold and alone. “Don’t tell anyone else, okay? Please?”

It was one thing to know he was thinking like a preschooler. If Jason knew, or if Damian did… Tim didn’t know how he’d get through that. He had done a pretty good job keeping a low profile with those two yesterday, so he could probably do the same thing today.

Bruce stared at him for a second. His silence made something in Tim’s belly jump.

Then he nodded. “Alright. I won’t tell anyone.”

With a big sigh, Tim tilted his head forward until it landed right back on Bruce’s chest.

That was good. He might be losing his shit, but they’d have a cure figured out soon, right? So, no one else had to know.

With quick certainty, Damian skimmed over the page of two-digit multiplication problems. There was a helpful section at the top of the page that outlined the strategy that was to be used, and every single question had the work written out carefully in the exact same way as suggested.

“These are all correct,” he said as he handed the page back to his brother.

“Thanks,” Jason muttered. “I was pretty sure I got it, but— Well, Dad normally checks over my math, so…”

“He is otherwise occupied.”

“Yeah, I know, Dami. And I’m fucking handling it!”

Damian stared down that huffy scowl. “Right. Of course.”

Jason groaned and slouched over his little desk that resided in Father’s study. “Okay, fine, I’m not. Or at least… not all the time.”

Damian nodded, but didn’t say anything else. It was a classic interrogation technique, and one that (he had learned) worked very well with younger brothers.

“I know Dad is trying really hard. And he’s not, you know, ignoring me. He’s working on super important stuff! I want him to help Tim. That’s who really needs him right now.”

“And yet…”

Jason huffed out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, there’s still a stupid part of me that wants Dad to do all the stuff with me that he used to do, no matter what.”

“It’s not stupid, it’s merely because you are a young child.” Damian didn’t back down from that assertion even after Jason shot him a dirty look. It was simply how things were. Jason was young and needed certain things: someone to check his homework, someone to spend time with him, someone to look after him. Damian was happy to fulfill those needs however he could, but he also knew that Father held a special place in Jason’s heart and that there was no perfect replacement.

“Hey, was it hard for you?” Jason suddenly asked. “When I first… I mean, you used to be the baby of the family, and then I kinda, you know, took that over. Dad’s busy with me a lot now.”

“I am much older and more mature than you,” Damian answered as he rested against the top of Jason’s desk.

Jason rolled his eyes and jabbed his sharp elbow into Damian’s leg. “Oh, c’mon, you’re not that old. I used to be fifteen, remember? I still… needed Bruce. Back then.” A shadow fell across his expression, and a chill crawled across Damian’s shoulders.

He hadn’t known Jason when he had been fifteen, but he had heard the stories, of course. Yes, Jason had certainly needed their father.

And seeing as how he was being vulnerable right now, the least Damian could do was return the favour.

“There were some things that I needed to adjust to,” he admitted. “But remember that Father and I work together very closely as Batman and Robin. We have many hours that we are together when you are asleep.”

Jason grumbled wordlessly, and Damian took that as a sign he could continue.

“And there have been… other benefits. To the changes that have come over the last year.”

Jason’s forehead wrinkled. Damian felt heat gathering in his cheeks, but he pushed himself to keep talking. This was how he was growing, after all.

“I have enjoyed our changed relationship. Being an older brother is very rewarding.”

“Oh.” A warm flush rose up on Jason’s face, matching Damian’s. “Okay. That’s good cause, well, you’re pretty good at it.”

A smile surfaced on Damian’s face. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Then, he reached out and dug his fingers into Jason’s ribs, teasing him in exactly the way big brothers were supposed to. They tussled for a while, both of them sitting comfortably in the roles they had fallen into a year ago. Finally, Jason pulled away. He snagged his battered Math homework and took a step away from the desk.

“Thanks, Dami.”

Damian nodded. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

He truly meant it, and he was also glad for the reminder of how much he enjoyed his role in Jason’s life. There had been some struggles along the way, but by now he had skill at being an older brother. Perhaps that was another way he could help with the situation downstairs.

Half an hour later, after Jason had run off to do some sort of baking with Alfred, Damian made his way down to the cave. He heard the issue before he was able to see it.

“I know, Tim, but if you get yogurt on the keyboard—”

“I wanna sit with you!”

“You can. Just—”

“Nooooo! I need my snack!”

“I—” Father blew out a short sigh. “Okay, how about this.”

Damian rounded the corner just in time to see Father plunking Tim into a nearby chair that was just a couple feet away from the batcomputer. He set a cup of yogurt on the desk and then arranged a barrier of loose papers across the workspace that protected the console.

“I’m right beside you,” he promised Tim. “You can finish your yogurt, and then if you want, you can do case notes for me while I work, okay?”

Tim sniffled. “Okay.” He grabbed the offered spoon in one hand and a spare pen in his other, both of them held clumsily in his tight fists.

“We should get smaller spoons,” Father muttered.

“This one’s good.” Tim frowned in concentration as he lined the spoon up with his child-sized snack. When he pulled the spoon out of the pot, flecks of yogurt scattered across the paper.

Damian had seen enough. Clearing his throat he stepped forward.

“Tim. Perhaps you could spend some time with me while Father continues to work.”

Tim stared, yogurt smeared on his chin and spoon frozen in mid-air. Another dollop of yogurt fell onto the desk.

“We could stay close by,” Damian continued, making sure to use the same kind, gentle voice he had learned to use when comforting Jason. “And you could continue to work on your… case notes.”

Now that he was close enough, he could see the loose scribbles that covered half the pages that Father had laid out on the desk. All of them were done in the same blue pen ink, and there was a range of incomprehensible shapes, wobbly drawings, and a smattering of barely recognizable letters.

It was quite obviously a strategy to keep young Timothy safely occupied. Damian could continue that activity, and possibly even make it better.

“I have a set of coloured pencils that should work well with your limited fine motor skills,” he offered. “Wouldn’t those be an excellent addition to your notes?”

“Damian…” Father’s voice had a wary tone to it, but Damian stood firm. He knew how to be an older brother now, and this was something that would be genuinely helpful.

Tim stared up at him with wide, shining eyes. “You… know?”

“I’m aware that you are struggling, yes. It’s to be expected. But we are all here to help you, so… so there’s no need to…”

But Damian’s words were having the opposite effect that he was intending. Slowly, Tim’s expression began to crumble. His eyes filled with tears.

And then he opened his mouth and wailed.

Chapter Text

Jason waited, toes curled inward, just outside the bathroom. It was maybe kind of a stalker-ish move, but he wanted to be able to talk to Tim on his own, and this way it wouldn’t be as obvious as trying to get Tim away from Bruce.

There was so much in Jason’s life that he needed his dad for, and a lot of it he actually liked, but he really did want to be able to do this on his own. He’d heard all about that meltdown with Damian yesterday, and even though it might not make a lot of sense for other people, Jason was pretty sure he knew exactly what Tim was thinking. It’s why he had to do this, even though he had nerves jumping in his stomach and worry itching at his skin.

The sink finally turned off, but it still took another minute before the door swung open and Tim stepped out. When he caught sight of Jason, he startled a little with his eyes going wide as he took a tiny step back.

“Sorry,” Jason said. “I just, um, wanted to talk.”

“Okay…” Tim’s eyes drifted up to the light switch, and then he slouched down with a frown.

Oh, yeah, he probably couldn’t reach that anymore, huh? Not even with the step stool that was already in there. It was kinda weird to remember that Jason wasn’t the smallest in the family anymore.

He reached up and hit the switch and then backed up a couple steps to give Tim some room. He remembered how awful and weird everything had felt just after he’d been hit with the serum. People giving him some personal space had helped a lot with not feeling as overwhelmed.

“So, um, I heard about what happened with Dami,” he finally said.

Tim’s face blushed a bright pink and his shoulders drooped. “Oh.”

“Yeah. And I know sometimes he can be really blunt, but—”

“But you know, too, don’t you? That I’m— That…”

“Well, yeah,” Jason admitted. “That’s kind of how this works. You can try as hard as you want, but you can’t actually fake being a grownup.”

Tim looked down at the floor. Then he sniffled.

Oh, shit, he was crying.

Personal space didn’t matter when it came to this, so Jason stepped forward, slowly and carefully, and pulled his brother into a hug. It’d been a long time since he’d hugged anyone smaller than him, but he hadn’t forgotten how. He used his longer arms to get all the way around Tim’s little body, and then he used his one hand to pull Tim’s head into his chest.

He didn’t feel as skinny and little and weak as he normally did; he felt strong. And it didn’t take long before it started to make a difference. All the tight, tense shaking that was inside of Tim was slowly starting to fade away, and even the sniffles were dying down.

One of the plusses for being small was that it was way easier to sit on the floor literally anywhere, so Jason guided them both down until they were sitting cross legged on the hardwood, just steps away from the open bathroom door.

“Sorry,” Tim mumbled as he wiped his face with his hand.

“You’ve held me lots when I’ve cried,” Jason reminded him. “And, um, this has kind of happened with me before, too, remember? I can be a little more grown up sometimes if I need to, but it, um, takes effort and it makes me tired and then I end up, well… Falling asleep in the middle of a movie or crying over not getting my favourite hoodie.”

“Oh.” Tim shifted around in Jason’s arms like he was trying to get more comfortable, not like he was actually sick of the hug. “That might be… um… something.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, I figured.”

There was a really nice, calm feeling between them, and Jason really didn’t want to ruin it. But he’d promised himself that he was going to get everything figured out with him and Tim right now, so he knew he had to keep going.

“And I’m… um…” Fuck, he could feel his own tears start to creep in. This was not what he wanted, but he couldn’t chicken out now. “I’m really sorry you got hurt because of me.”

“What? No, Jay!” Tim yanked himself out of their hug and smooshed his hands on either side of Jason’s face. Their eyes locked together. “That’s not your fault! Sometimes stuff like this just happens.”

“Yeah, but…” There were still blurry tears getting in the way of everything, and he couldn’t really think of how to say any of the tangly thoughts inside his head.

“No!” Tim dropped his hands down and then wrapped his short little arms around Jason and squeezed tight. “I don’t want you to be sad!” He was crying too which kind of set Jason off all over again and…

And they were both just there for a little bit, sitting on the floor and hugging and crying. Eventually, it started to feel better, so Jason got up and grabbed some toilet paper from the bathroom so they could wipe their eyes and blow their noses. Jason had to help Tim with it a bit because he couldn’t get his hands to do it on his own.

“Ugh, okay, so I guess this is why everyone knows I’m actually acting like I’m three,” Tim grumbled.

Jason shrugged. “Yeah. But, well, you can kind of think of it like… It’s easier to hold it together for the important stuff if you let go of the stupid stuff.”

Tim hummed, like he still wasn’t really sure, and stared down at his socks. Jason decided to push a little harder.

“No one cares how you talk, Timmy. Or that you can’t hold a pen right or whatever else.”

Tim’s face twisted into a pouty frown. But then he let out a small sigh. “I can’t use a computer either.”

“Yeah, that really sucks. But Dad’s gonna figure out how to fix you soon. If you kinda just… don’t worry about any of that shit for a little bit, you might be less… I dunno, sad or mad or whatever it is you're feeling.”

“Oberstimuwate— Ugh. Overstimulated.”

“Well, I don’t remember what that means and I don’t think I could say it right either, but sure.”

A little giggle escaped Tim, and Jason finally started to relax.

“And, um, I know it’s really good to have Dad there to help you feel better when you need it, but, um…” He swallowed. “If you wanna try— I mean, you don’t have to, but…”

Fuck it, there was no good way to put this. Giving up, he grabbed his Batman toy from the bookshelf across from him and handed it to Tim.

“It’s a stupid little kid thing, and it’s extra stupid that it actually works, but— Yeah, you can borrow him. If you want. For as long as you need it.”

For a tiny, scary moment, Tim just stared at the stuffed Batman and didn’t say anything. Jason’s stomach twisted up as he waited, but he didn’t back down. Everyone was always telling him he didn’t need to be embarrassed about his Batman toy, and now was a really good chance for them to prove it.

Finally, it looked like Tim made some kind of decision in his head. He took one last look at Jason and then reached forward, took Batman, and tucked it into his arms.

“I remember I gave this to you,” he said.

“Yeah. I guess you get to have him back for a bit, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim’s fingers tugged on one of Batman’s ears. It was getting a little weirdly shaped because that’s what Jason always did with it, too. “Thanks, Jay.”

A smile broke out onto Jason’s face. “Sure. I’m glad you like him.”

“He smells kinda funny.”

“Shut the fuck up; he does not!”

“Not a bad funny! Just… different.” Tim tucked his nose against the top of Batman’s head and gave it a big sniff.

“Whatever,” Jason grumbled. Their weird little emotional moment was over, and they stood up at the same time, facing each other.

Jason could look down at little Tim, who was still hugging Batman. Fuck, this was why everyone had been saying that Jason was so cute now, wasn’t it?

“Are you gonna go back to Dad now?” he asked. That’s where Tim had literally been this whole time, so he pretty much expected it. But a frown pulled on Tim’s face and he shrugged as he looked down again.

“S’not like I can actually help him. Even just regular reading is hard.”

“Wait, you still remember how to, right?”

“Yeah, but—” Tim’s face screwed up and he hugged Batman tighter. “I dunno, it’s hard to keep all the letters and words in my head. Nothing I read makes sense.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, that… I get that.” The attention span thing was super frustrating for Jason as a seven-year-old. But Tim was three, so… “Shit, Timmy, that really sucks.”

Tim sniffed. “Yeah.”

“Well, I could… I mean if you want, I could read to you for a bit.” That could be a thing, right? Even though Jason hated that he couldn’t read as good as he used to, he really liked listening to other people read to him.

It turned out to be the right call because a little smile suddenly snuck out onto Tim’s face. “Really? You’d do that?”

And he didn’t even try to say his ‘l’s right, so it sounded more like ‘reawwy’, which was pretty fucking cute.

“Yeah, obviously! It just, um, can’t be anything. I still, you know, forgot stuff from when I was grown up.” Jason wouldn’t be able to handle any of those weird academic journals that Tim liked, and most grown-up novels were still too tricky for him to figure out, at least the ones that were any good.

“Right.” Tim stared seriously up at Jason. “We can just read whatever you want.”

“Well, you can still pick something; I’m not that bad.”

“No, it’s… I…” Tim looked down at Batman. Then he took a big breath and looked back up at Jason. “I want you to pick.”

Then it clicked. Jason knew all about this. It was the same reason why he’d started learning drawing with Damian, or why it felt special to have Tim pick him up from school on Wednesdays. It was a big brother/little brother thing. It had just been a long time since Jason had been on this side of it.

“Okay.” He put his arm around Tim and steered them towards the library. “I can figure something out. Let’s see if we can find anything good.”

Bruce stared at the screen, eyes skimming over the data without really reading it. All he could pay attention to was the cool air, the dark surroundings, the empty, far-off echoes in the cave. Every single sensation reminded him that he was completely alone down here.

Which was a good thing.

Admittedly, it was much easier to get work done without a squirmy, needy, clumsy preschooler vying for his attention. And more importantly, it meant that Tim was finally working through that uncharacteristic clinginess he’d been fighting with this whole time. It was for the best if he’d managed to find something to do on his own that he enjoyed.

All that was true, and yet Bruce felt that missing warmth when Tim didn’t come back downstairs after his ‘bathroom and snacks’ trip over an hour ago. A quick text to Alfred assured Bruce that Tim was safe and happy to stay upstairs for a while, so Bruce had buckled down and worked, even though a part of his mind was still devoted to wondering what exactly Tim was occupied with.

Probably not anything with Damian. Things had been roughly patched up between them, but Tim was (of course) still emotional about the encounter, and Damian hadn’t made any other attempts to reach out since. It wasn’t likely to be Dick, either. He’d been in and out of the manor this whole time, but (as far as Bruce was aware) was currently in another strategy session with Barbara.

With all that in consideration, it was probably Alfred himself who was watching Tim. The kitchen would be much more active and fascinating for a three-year-old than the computer work that Bruce was locked into, and Alfred knew how to keep a child busy for as long as needed.

Despite his theory, the puzzle continued to turn in his brain until he needed to head upstairs himself. He had just left the study and was walking towards the kitchen when he heard a clear, expressive voice reading out loud in the library.

Of course. He should have thought about Jason from the start.

With light footsteps, Bruce turned into the room and walked past rows of books until he finally saw Jason and Tim. They were tucked deep into the same armchair, both sets of legs sticking out across the depth of the seat. Jason’s legs were just long enough that his ankles cleared the edge of the cushion, but Tim’s weren’t even close. An anthology collection of Jack Prelutsky lay across their laps, and a very familiar stuffed Batman was squashed against Tim’s side.

Jason, unfortunately, stopped reading and looked up as Bruce came closer. “Hey, Dad.”

Bruce cleared his throat and tried to school his expression. “Hello, boys.”

A blindingly bright smile flashed across Tim’s face as he sat up a little straighter. “Jason’s reading to me!”

“Yeah, he can see that, Timbit.”

“Oh. Well, I like the poems. I don’t think I’ve ever heard them before.”

“That’s because you haven’t read anything good; I keep telling you.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not! I— ugh, whatever.” Jason tilted sideways, squashing himself further into one side of the chair so he could get a little more space, but then Tim cuddled even closer and started the problem all over again. With a gentle sigh, Jason gave it up, leaning back against Tim.

There were both here, right in front of him, with shining eyes and soft cheeks and round knees that somehow all fit two to a chair. Two to a chair plus Batman.

“Dad? Did you just come up here to stare at us or something?”

No, but it was a gift that Bruce wasn’t going to squander.

Jason had figured that out, of course, but Tim was oblivious to the whole thing. He was nudging at Jason to move onto the next poem. His feet knocked inwards, toes touching together.

Giving his head a shake, Bruce pulled himself back to his task. “I need to get an updated blood sample from Tim.” And that was all it took to turn the tide.

“What?” Tim snapped his gaze up from the book and stared at Bruce with wide, damp eyes. “But… but I don’t wanna.”

Bruce swallowed. He took a breath. So far, he hadn’t managed to avoid a single one of these tantrums, but he had to keep trying. “Tim. I know that—”

“No, I don’t wanna go. I wanna…. I wanna stay here.” Tears appeared out of nowhere, and a big sob shook Tim’s shoulders.

And where had this come from? They had done several other blood tests already without a single issue; why was he suddenly so upset?

Crouching low to appear as nonthreatening as possible, Bruce tried again. “Tim, I know it’s not very much fun—”

A wail drowned him out before he could finish.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Jason soothed, running his hand down Tim’s arm. “I’m scared of needles too, remember?”

“I’m not scared,” Tim spat. His face was becoming an impressive shade of red.

Bruce took another deep breath. It didn’t help. “Okay. Well, you know it’s important we keep checking your liver function, so let’s—”

“No!” Tim abandoned his hold on Batman and clamped his arms around Jason’s middle. “Jason’s reading to me! I already said!”

There was a tense beat of silence. Bruce stared, Jason bit his lip, and Tim flared his very tiny nostrils. Then, it finally clicked.

“Oh, okay, well, bud, I’m sure Jason would be willing to keep reading to you downstairs while we get your test done.”

The sobbing stopped; the tears dried.

“Oh.” Tim dragged in a deep, messy sniffle. “You would, Jay?”

“Yeah, sure, Timmy.”

“Okay!”

And there was that bright, beautiful smile again. Tim’s flushed cheeks were the only evidence that anything had happened as he grabbed Batman again, wiggled off the chair, and dropped to the floor. He started to look a little shyer as he approached Bruce.

“Jay says I can borrow him,” he explained. In a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, he waved one of Batman’s arms at Bruce.

Bruce had to clear his throat again before he could speak. “That sounds really nice.”

“Uh huh. But wait, Jay, do you want him for now? Cause needles make you scared?”

“I’m not scared just looking at them.”

“Well, I’m not scared of them at all, so—”

“Shut up! Maybe I will take Batman back.”

“Noooo! You said I could have him!”

“Well, you keep wiping your nose on him, so—”

“No, I don't!"

“You do too! I just saw you.”

“I didn’t!”

“You did!”

“Boys,” Bruce finally cut in.

Jason and Tim both snapped their attention to him. “Dad, he said I’m scared of needles!”

“B, he’s not gonna let me have Batman!”

“Okay. Okay.” Bruce put a hand on each of their shoulders and modelled taking a deep breath.

Thankfully, they followed him. At least that training was still present in their minds. As for the rest, maybe there was a downside to having two very young temperaments in the house at the same time.

“Jay, you are scared of needles,” Bruce reminded him gently. “But it’s okay to struggle with something like that, and Tim shouldn’t be teasing you. And Tim… Batman is Jason’s, so maybe try not to… wipe your nose on it.”

With another sniffle (this time into his sleeve), Tim nodded. Then he turned to Jason. “Sorry, Jay.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jason replied. “You can keep Batman.”

That blinding smile made another appearance. “Really? Thanks!”

And just like that, they were back to normal. It was the fastest reconciliation that Bruce had ever seen in their family, and he still had whiplash from how quickly it had even started.

Regardless, it meant they were finally ready to head downstairs, so Bruce gave Jason’s ear a playful tug and then scooped Tim up into his arms, Batman toy and all. His very youngest boy cuddled in close; face still flushed from all those earlier emotions.

“Let’s get this blood test done so we can be ready for dinner,” Bruce announced.

Then he felt small fingers brushing against his hand, and he looked down. Jason peered up at him sheepishly, somehow feeling self-conscious about the move he’d pulled countless times in the last year.

He always vacillated about these sorts of gestures. Sometimes (like now) he’d be self-conscious about such childish actions, while other times he’d do them like it was second nature and without a care in the world. Bruce made a point to always respond the same way.

He took hold of Jason’s hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and started walking. The three of them moved together, Tim humming gently as he fiddled with Batman, Jason with a skip in his step and a book tucked under his arm, and Bruce with his heart fuller than he ever expected it to be.

Chapter Text

Tim sat, curled up in the corner of the sofa, as Damian’s pencil swept across the page in sure, steady strokes. The basic shape of the Batmobile had been sketched out quickly and easily, and now he was adding details.

“You should make a cool design for the hubcaps,” Jason said.

The corner of Damian’s mouth turned up, and he dutifully started sketching an elaborate bat symbol in the middle of one wheel.

Jason grinned and snuggled closer. “Cool.”

Tim just watched. He still wasn’t really sure about this whole thing, but Jason had suggested it, and Tim did feel bad he’d completely lost it just because Damian had eyes and ears and had figured out that Tim was an actual child right now.

Hanging out in the den and watching Damian draw should show Damian that Tim wasn’t mad, and so far, it hadn’t been too awkward. All Tim had done was sit on the other side of Damian and watch. There was no way in hell he was going to actually cuddle against Damian. It was good enough just to take all that clingy energy and hug Batman really tight. And also make sure he could see the drawing, too.

And, okay, Tim knew that Batman wasn’t actually alive. Obviously. But it did kind of feel… different with the way his brain was working. Reality was a little less clear-cut. He was trying to follow Jason’s advice and not constantly fight against that kind of thing, and it probably wasn’t that noticeable. Nothing could be worse than the constant tantrums from before, and those had gotten way better ever since Tim had stopped trying to fake it.

Damian finished up with the hubcaps and then turned to Tim. “Is there anything you think we should add?”

“Oh. Um.” Tim sniffed the top of Batman’s head as he thought. He’d figured out the smell. It was a mix of the lavender detergent Alfred sometimes used and then also something that reminded him of Jason. “Maybe some flames in the back?

Damian nodded, like it was actually a really good suggestion, and started adding flames coming out of the back tail pipes. Tim smiled. Okay, yeah, that looked really cool.

He shifted a little closer to Damian. Just so he could get a better look. And it was also nice how he was close enough to feel Damian’s warm shoulder that was right there. He squeezed Batman tighter. It didn’t matter what sort of annoying childish instincts were firing in him; he couldn’t forget his original plan: hang out, be chill, don’t do anything too embarrassing.

And then someone else came into the den.

“Puppy!” Tim slid off the sofa as fast as he could and trotted over to meet Titus. He was halfway across the room before he remembered that Titus was giant and he was tiny. And then Titus noticed him, let out a low woof, and started walking towards Tim.

He froze, Batman still clutched in his arms, but Titus just kept coming closer and closer.

“Titus, heel.” Damian’s firm, calm voice landed at the exact same time as his hand settled on Tim’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Tim, I’m sure he’s being overly friendly because he still recognizes you.”

Tim’s knees felt shaky, and his thoughts were too tangled up to actually say anything back, even though he knew that Damian was right. Duh, of course Titus wasn’t going to actually hurt him. But his heart was still hammering in his chest and his face was getting all hot from embarrassment. He’d lost his cool over a dog. One that he’d run over to see.

“I know he’s nice,” he finally mumbled into the back of Batman’s head.

“He is, but it’s still fucking terrifying when he’s that much bigger than you.” Jason suddenly nudged against Tim’s side, and that helped make things better.

Slowly, Tim lifted his head and got another look. Titus was laying down calmly and patiently in front of him, and Damian was sitting between them, making sure that both of them were okay.

There wasn’t any judgement in Damian’s expression. He just looked confident, totally in control. It made the very last of Tim’s tangled fear disappear. Damian nodded supportively, and Tim felt himself start to actually smile. Jeez, no wonder Jason thought Damian hung the moon. He was really good at this.

“Would you still like to pet him? I promise he’ll remain calm.”

Tim swallowed. Even laying down, Titus was massive. But… okay, yeah, even though it was still scary, there was a part of Tim that really wanted to pet the puppy. And he had Damian and Jason both right here helping him, so it was going to be okay.

He shuffled a little closer to Titus, veering sideways so he got closer to Damian at the same time. Carefully, he knelt down with Damian right behind him keeping him safe. He settled Batman onto his lap and then had the stuffy wave hello to Titus. That seemed to go okay; Titus just kept watching quietly and calmly. After another big breath to gather his courage, Tim reached out his own hand, let Titus sniff him, and then started to scratch behind his ears the exact same way he did when he was bigger.

Titus leaned his head into it. Tim smiled and scratched a little harder. There was a thumping sound, and Tim jumped a little before he realized that it was just Titus’ tail hitting the floor.

“Oh my god, that’s so cute I think I’m going to throw up.”

What the hell—

Snatching his hand back and spinning around, Tim saw Stephanie and Cass standing by the sofa and watching the whole thing. When had they even come in?

And it was suddenly way harder to face them than it had been with Jason and Damian. He used to date Steph and now…

Cass came over to them and sat cross-legged. Tim was basically the same height standing as she was sitting.

He gave her a cautious smile. He took a deep breath. Then he forced himself to actually say something. “Hi, Cassie.”

She grinned. “Hi, Timmy.”

“Ugh, you’re even cuter in person,” Steph said as she sat down on the floor, too. “I should have stayed here instead of leaving to chase down a crazy scientist.”

Tim gave her a glare, but it didn’t work very well because Steph just kept right on grinning.

“And how did your mission go?” Damian asked sharply.

Cass smiled. “Perfect. We got him.”

“And you were right, Tim. He had notes for an antidote on him. We think he was going to try to set up some sort of extortion business with this. It’s all in the notes we left downstairs with Bruce.”

Tim perked up. “You gave them to B already?”

“Yes.” Cass booped Tim’s nose, which was totally unfair because that’s what she normally did to Jason. “He’s working on the formula now.”

“So…” Tim thought he knew what that meant, but he needed to check to be sure. Everything in his head was too mixed up. “That means we’re gonna be able to fix me?”

“Yep. Sadly, we only have a few more hours with little Timbit before you’re going to be all old and boring again.”

And it was such good news, the best he could ever hope for. It’s what he’d been wanting this whole time ever since he’d woken up as a three-year-old kid a couple days ago. But getting all of that good news dropped onto him all at once snapped the rubber band of tension that had been stretched inside of him, and an explosion of emotions hit him in the recoil.

A flood of tears poured out; he lost track of where Titus was. He couldn’t even think of what to say.

He had been so worried this whole time, and now, finally, he could just… He didn’t have to…

“Aw, Timmy.” Gently, Cass pulled him into a hug. He was used to being taller than her, and now she felt pretty much as big as everyone else did. Her arms reached around him easily, and he could curl inside of her embrace with barely any effort. Even though the sizes were different, she still gave some of the best hugs, so he cuddled in close, keeping Batman tucked tight against him, too, so there were layers to the hug.

Her calm, steady presence helped to soothe all of those unsettled emotions, and it took barely any time before the tears began to dry up and he started to feel a little more normal.

After all, it was really good news. Everything was going to work out the exact way they had been hoping.

From behind his back, Alfred heard the patter of small feet flitting across the tile floor. A smile grew on his face as he turned to face young Master Tim, who was still young for just a small amount of time longer.

“Hey, Alfie.” His sweet smile angled upwards, slightly hidden by the Batman toy that had lived in his arms from the moment Master Jason had loaned it out. “Um, I was wondering if I could get a snack?”

“Of course, Master Tim. I’ve been concerned about your lack of appetite, and I would be pleased to give you anything you feel might be good.

“Yeah, that’s what I told them!” Master Tim said. “And that’s why I—” He cut himself off as a sharp, whispered sound came from the hallway.

Alfred decided to ignore it for now. “What would you like, my dear boy?”

“Um, well, maybe some…” His gaze drifted to the side, once again towards the hallway. “Some of the cookies you made today?”

“I see.”

“And, um, Cheezies?”

Alfred clasped his hands in front of himself. He raised an eyebrow. “Miss Stephanie’s favourite? And I believe Master Dick is especially fond of those cookies you mentioned.”

“Oh, is he?” Tim blinked up at Alfred, a perfect picture of innocence. Too perfect.

“He is indeed. And what other requests do you have for me, Master Tim?”

“Um, well…” His brow furrowed for a moment before he huffed out a short sigh. “I forget. Jay, what else am I supposed to ask for?”

“Tim, you’re not supposed to—” Master Jason came skidding out from around the corner and flashed Alfred a guileless smile. “Hey, Alfie! I was just, um, coming over to—”

“I believe I understand what is happening.” Alfred looked down at the two young boys and did his best to school his expression. “Can I at least trust that there are some things that you will eat in this list of requests from others?”

“Well…” Tim turned towards his temporarily older brother. “We were gonna see.”

“It’s like how it is for me; everything tastes different for Tim right now,” Jason explained. “Probably even worse because he’s practically a baby, so—”

“No, I’m not!”

“You basically are.”

“Nuh uh! You’re the baby.”

“Alright, boys,” Alfred interrupted firmly. “Your mission was successful. Give me a few minutes and I shall bring the snacks you requested.”

Identical smiles broke out on their faces, and they abandoned their spat instantly.

“Thanks, Alfie!” Jason chirped, already tugging Tim’s hand out of the kitchen. “You’re the best!”

It was extremely charming, and Alfred was glad for the visit. He was especially glad to hear that Master Tim might actually eat a reasonable number of calories rather than the disinterested picking at his food he had been doing for the last few days. While Alfred didn’t prefer to serve prepackaged food, he did keep several favourites in stock for moments such as this, so it only took a few minutes for him to load his trolley and bring it to the family den where a beautiful scene sat before him.

Jason and Damian were gathered around Titus, both of them petting him while the dog’s tail thumped enthusiastically. Dick, Stephanie and Cassandra were locked in competition with one of the many video games they owned. Tim was perched on Cassandra’s lap, watching the game with a bright-eyed, enamoured stare.

Alfred parked his cart off to the side so as not to disturb them and then walked over to join Master Bruce, who was sitting at a slight distance, observing the same scene.

“I trust everything is taken care of downstairs, sir?”

Bruce tore his gaze away from the children to face Alfred. “The manufacturing process is automated at this stage. I have an alarm set for when that changes.”

There was a flash of guilt in his expression, but Alfred laid a hand on Master Bruce’s shoulder before it could set it.

“It’s good you are taking the time to be here.”

Cautiously, Master Bruce nodded.

“And, if I may, sir…”

A wry smile lifted onto his face. “Always, Alfred.”

“I believe we have one more of those controllers for the game. I did an inventory of them just last week.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Nothing gets by you, huh?”

Alfred’s mouth turned upwards. “Never.”

With hands folded, Master Bruce tapped his fingers on his knuckles. Then he came to a decision. “I’ll jump in on the next round. As long as you stay, too.”

Alfred took in the scene again: enraptured cheers, babbling childish voices, the low grumble of a very large dog.

“Very well, sir. I suppose it would do us all some good.”

The enjoyable hour passed very quickly, but life never stood still, and the call of the cave would always be there.

As soon as they were ready for the next stage of Master Tim’s treatment, work began all over again. Master Bruce took the boy downstairs, and Alfred was tasked with making sure that an entire audience didn’t follow them.

It took some effort, but Dick was eventually persuaded to get some much-needed rest. Cassandra and Stephanie were put to work planning and preparing dinner for the evening, and although Alfred had worries about the state of his kitchen, he was needed to assist with the procedure downstairs. Damian took some effort, but eventually he was content with being allowed to stay downstairs and work on updating case logs, although he insisted on being pulled in to help with Tim if anything went the slightest bit awry.

As for Jason, Alfred caught sight of the boy slipping upstairs quietly on his own, and he decided not to follow. For now, Master Jason was safely occupied, and that was all that was needed. There would be plenty of time to check in with him later.

Jason stared at the words on the page of his book. He tried for the millionth time to make them make sense. He looked at each letter, he chunked up the sounds, he squinted his eyes. But his stupid brain still wasn’t letting him pay attention to it.

With a groan he shut the book and put it down on the floor right beside him. This whole thing was so stupid.

It was good that Tim had a cure; that right this second, he was downstairs in the cave turning back to his normal, old self. Because of Jason, they knew exactly how to keep his memories safe and to watch for poison and all that, so they’d had the time to find the antidote and double check it and everything.

Tim was going to be totally, completely fine.

So that meant that Jason should just stop thinking about it and read the poems on his own. Jack Prelutsky was fun, and it’d totally be something that Jason would already want to read.

And then maybe after that, he could find Damian and get him to finish that Batmobile picture. Tim wasn’t gonna care what it looked like anymore, so that meant… Well, that meant that Jason got to make all the decisions of what it should look like. That could be good, right?

There was a knock on his door (the one he pretty much always kept open anyway), and then Tim stuck his head into the room. Big Tim. Grown-up Tim.

Without even meaning to, Jason pulled his legs a little closer. It probably made him look even smaller than he actually was. Great.

This was so stupid. He dragged a smile onto his face that probably didn’t look all that convincing, but at least it was something.

“Hey. I guess it worked, huh?”

“Yep.” Tim came into the room, moving really slowly and carefully. “I mean, things are still, I guess… settling in? It’s a bit weird, but give it another few hours and everything will be back to being the way it should be.”

“Right. That’s… good.” A sharp stabby pain hit Jason’s throat and it got even worse when Tim sat down on the floor right next to Jason.

He was big all over again. Way bigger than Jason. A real, actual grown up. So that meant that Jason… That he was…

“Oh, Jay. I know.” All of a sudden, Tim was putting that long arm of his around Jason and pulling them together into a hug. That made Jason actually start crying for real, and then he felt really bad.

“I’m sorry! I— I wanted you to get better, I swear. But— But I…” His breath hitched and then a big shudder crawled all across his skin.

“I know.” Tim rubbed his hand up and down Jason’s arm. “I’m really sorry, too.”

Jason just kept crying because he wasn’t a big brother anymore, was he? He’d had that back for a couple days and now it was gone all over again.

Tim passed a Kleenex over to Jason. “And I’m sorry this still doesn’t fix anything for you. There’s no way that antidote can be reformulated for your case, not when the original serum’s been out of your bloodstream for all this time.”

Jason frowned. Yeah, he already knew that. A year ago, he’d made the choice to be stuck growing up the ‘normal’ way for the rest of his life. He’d known it was permanent.

“Wait, is that why you were going after this guy?” he realized. “You wanted to see if… if there was something…”

Tim stared at his knees. He shrugged. “I know it… probably wasn’t going to work out. But we’ve always believed in long shots in this family, haven’t we? And I— I couldn’t figure things out in time to give you a real choice back then. So, I thought…”

Yeah, Jason hadn’t had a real choice. He’d decided to actually make this permanent before they absolutely had to, but it wasn’t like he had any good options. Be a kid all over again or die? That wasn’t anything actually good.

But if he had a choice now? If they could somehow turn him back into a real, actual adult who could do all the things he was supposed to and knew about math and history and how to handle his own stupid nightmares…

“I don’t know what I’d pick,” he realized. And now he was crying all over again, because the more he thought about it, the worse it got. “If I was big again, I wouldn’t be— I wouldn’t be me anymore. But… but I also stopped being the me from before, right? So… so I don’t…”

“Crap, Jay, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have— I didn’t think about it like that. Of course it’s an impossible choice.”

Jason shivered and curled even closer to Tim, because he really liked this part about his life. He had both Tim and Damian as big brothers who were so good at taking care of him in their own way. And things with Bruce were better than they’d ever, ever been. Plus, he still had Alfred and Dick and everyone else. He could live here at home in the manor; he got to go to school and have friends there. There were a ton of good, awesome, fun things that wouldn’t be the same if he went back to being twenty-two.

“I think that’s great if you like how your life is,” Tim said, still holding Jason really tight. “Everyone wants you to be happy, Jay.”

He nodded. That was good to hear. But it wasn’t as easy as that. There was something else bugging him about it. Something that didn’t feel totally right and probably never would.

“There’s still stuff I miss about being big,” he said. “I’m still… sad. And I don’t get to be your big brother anymore.”

“Yeah.” Tim swallowed. Now there were tears in his eyes. “I miss that too, sometimes.”

Jason sniffled into his Kleenex. “Yeah?”

“Of course, Jay. You’re a really good big brother. I got to experience that all over again just now, remember? And, look, I’m so glad things are good for you now, but there’s still stuff I miss about how it used to be.”

“Yeah! And if I… If I was gonna choose…” He shuddered. He didn’t know what that choice would be; that was the whole problem.

“Maybe it’s good that you don’t have to,” Tim said. “For me, it made sense, but you’ve changed a lot in the last year. If I was in your shoes…”

He shrugged. Then he grabbed his little balled up piece of Kleenex to wipe his nose, but somehow, he ended up smacking his hand on his face instead.

Jason flattened his mouth to keep from laughing, but he wasn’t very good at it. What was he supposed to do, though? His brother had just punched himself in the face; he couldn’t just ignore it. “Is that part of the ‘adjusting’ thing?”

“Yeah.” Tim glared at his fist as if he wasn’t the one who was doing all the controlling. “I’m still having problems with my coordination. Ugh, and my attention span! B says it’ll be better by tomorrow, but you should have seen me try to give my report downstairs. It was a mess.”

Jason snickered. Then he thought about it a little more. “So… that must mean reading is still hard for you.”

“Uh, yeah.” Tim scratched the back of his neck. “It’s better than before, but it’s still… a lot of work.”

Jason nudged his book with his toe. He still wasn’t really sure. Maybe Tim had some stuff that still needed to work its way out, but everything else seemed back to normal. He probably didn’t want to listen to a bunch of kids’ poems. Right?

“I could read to you for a bit,” Jason said.

Fuck, he hated when his mouth got ahead of his brain like that. It was part of being an impulsive kid, something that Tim wasn’t anymore.

But, before he could get embarrassed and take it back, Jason looked over and saw that those tears were suddenly back on his brother’s face.

“Ugh!” Tim sniffled messily and grabbed another Kleenex from the box. “Don’t tell B this, but my emotional regulation is all over the place, too.”

“I won’t,” Jason promised solemnly.

Tim flashed him a smile. “Thanks, Jay. And, uh… the reading sounds nice. I really did like those poems.”

“They’re just kid ones,” Jason muttered.

“Doesn’t mean they’re not good.”

A smile snuck out onto Jason's face, and he grabbed his book off the floor.

“Let’s get up on the bed,” he decided. “You’re back to being old now, so if we read on the floor, you’re gonna get a sore back or something.”

“I’m not old,” Tim complained as he climbed up onto Jason’s bed and flopped his stupidly long legs out across the blanket.

“You look pretty old to me.” Book in hand, Jason sat right beside Tim’s head, where he could comb his fingers through his brother’s hair if he wanted to. “Now shut up. I’m gonna read you a story.”