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Tim was being quiet.
Jason didn’t like that.
It wasn’t the content quiet of a little Jason sitting with his favorite book. It wasn’t the suspicious quiet of a young Dick Grayson contemplating how to climb another something-or-other.
It wasn’t even the contemplative quiet Jason expected from the boy genius.
It was a fragile quiet. As if he was scared to ruin a moment he found so deeply precious that he couldn’t risk speaking.
He’d heard that quiet before.
“You don’t need to be so nervous, kid.” Jason said, knowing full well it wouldn’t be much help. Tim only got quieter.
He sighed. He was so bad at this.
“What case are you working on right now?”
Tim audibly perked up.
“Human trafficking case. ‘M pretty sure they’re doing it at the docks. Haven’t gotten permission to go investigate, since it’s mostly just a hunch, but I swear I saw some suspicious shipments coming in.”
Jason hummed. Human trafficking, huh? Sounds like something the Red Hood would wanna look into.
“I could have some of my people do a preliminary investigation if you want. A couple of the working girls tend to pop down there every so often, so a quick search wouldn’t look too out-of-place. Not as much as a kid dressed like a traffic light.”
Tim laughed, and Jason could tell he was already feeling better. He removed another waffle from the iron and plated it. Tim had asked for three, so he poured another waffle’s worth of batter onto the iron and closed it.
“…Really?” Tim asked, like he couldn’t believe he was offering help.
“Sure. Robins’ hunches should be trusted. My gut got Goldie ‘nd me out of a ton of tough spots before.”
He turned back to the kid, who was looking down at his lap, smiling lightly.
“Sure. It’d be good to get an idea of what’s going on before I drag B out there to look for ourselves.”
“And it wouldn’t look too weird if my guys got involved. I’m pretty notoriously against human trafficking.”
Tim nodded.
“Here, let me give one of my girls a call. I’ll have her head to the docks tonight, if she has time.”
“Okay.”
Jason dialed her number and turned away as he made the call. Told her he got a tip about a possible human trafficking situation he’d like to look into, but that it was just a possibility, so he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it yet.
She agreed to go and promised to keep him updated.
“Thanks Cher, you’re a doll.” Jason smiled.
He pocketed the phone and took the last waffle off the iron, plating it and sliding it to Tim, along with some syrup– the good kind, real maple– and butter. Tim thanked him politely– a rich-kid impulse, if he had to guess.
“Cheri agreed to check the docks tonight. I’ll let you know what she finds– I’m sure Barbie knows how to find me.”
His phone buzzed with a text.
Unknown: Damn right I do.
Though that should probably be off-putting, Jason couldn’t find it in himself to be worried.
Unknown: B told D you’re alive btw
He groaned.
“Hm? Bruce tell Dick or something?” Tim asked, looking up from his waffles.
“Got it in one, Bitty. Not sure I’m ready for a golden-retriever-octopus-hug right now.”
Tim shrugged. “I won’t tell him where you are.”
“I’ll bet they already know. Don’t you have trackers on you or something?”
“Babs said she disabled them when I agreed to go to your place. Or, well, blocked Bruce and Dick’s access. Until I’m far enough away from it. She can still find us if she needs to.”
“Not sure there’s anything she can’t find.”
“Probably.” Tim went back to his waffles.
God. Was this kid really in his teens? He looked small and frail enough to be a ten-year-old, but his face looked tired enough to be twenty.
Jack and Janet when I get my hands on you–
Whatever. They were out of the way.
But… fuck, was Alfie even feeding this kid?
“…Why’re you so skinny, Timmers?”
Tim paused, as if he was trying to come up with something acceptable to say.
“I’m not gonna be upset with any answer, bud. I just wanna know.”
He was silent for a long moment.
“Combo of anorexia and a good amount of allergies.” Tim said finally. “There are a solid few sources of protein that would kill me, and the others were… Well. Hard to eat when it feels like if you do your mom will materialize out of nowhere to make you purge it.” He shrugs. “Got over the ED recently, thanks to Alfred. Still have my rough days, though.”
God. Fuck those parents.
“What allergies?” Jason asked, carefully moving away from the subject of an eating disorder. Those were hard to talk about, and he was NOT equipped for it. He was still kind of reeling from throwing his plans to the dogs, after all.
“Cashews, almonds, peanuts, walnuts, strawberries, and I’m sure there’s more I don’t know about. Mom never took me to get tested.”
He finished his waffles.
“I know I can have most seeds, though chia seeds are a no-go. Can’t even have a Chia-Pet. Makes me break out in hives. I know for sure sesame and poppy seeds are good. Haven’t tried pumpkin or sunflower yet, but I know the chemicals in those and I think they’ll be fine. Been meaning to go to Leslie to get a proper test. Kept getting distracted, though.”
Good to know. Thank god he didn’t put any of that in the waffle batter.
“Alfred knows about all that?”
“Yeah. He made sure he did.”
“Good. At least someone’s feeding you. Want more waffles? You inhaled those.”
He thought about it, and then nodded. “Just one. I dunno if I can eat more.”
“Fair enough. One more waffle, coming right up.”
Jason turned back to the waffle iron, smiling to himself. The quiet this time was the soft, contemplative quiet he had expected.
It was a weird feeling, sitting at his Robin’s kitchen island, while his Robin made him waffles. Good ones. Steph would like these.
It was weird, but also nice. How Jason took him seriously. How he had someone look into his hunch, just because he trusted him.
Yeah, Dick had given him that hug before the circus performance. But Jason? Jason was the one that showed him what Robin really meant.
Dick was rough-around-the-edges. He was a circus boy, after all. He was all jumps and leaps and flips, but he was also a kid that didn’t know his limits. But Jason? Jason knew them, and he was very careful of how and when he crossed them. Jason fought dirty. Jason looked at guys twice his size and laughed like he wasn’t scared, then he fought tooth and nail to make sure they wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Dick made Robin a name, but Jason turned it into a legacy.
Jason was the reason Tim had forced his way into Bruce’s life.
Despite all the hurt that came from it, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret a single thing.
Jason slid the plate with another waffle back over to him. Tim smiled and thanked him, buttering it and pouring syrup on it. It was the good kind too.
They sat in a nice silence for a while, Tim’s thoughts wandering back to the human trafficking case. He had been considering for a while who might be behind it. So far, Black Mask seemed like the best bet, but he didn’t really know for sure. Jason said he’d keep Tim up to date, though.
“You wanna watch a movie?” Jason offered. Which was good, because Tim was far from ready to face the cave yet.
He nodded, scarfing down the rest of his waffle.
Tim had chosen The Mitchells vs. The Machines. Jason had never seen it, which Tim had been quite indignant about, and insisted. Jason had agreed, but only if Tim promised that next time they’d watch Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, which if you asked him, was the best adaptation of the original. Both as book and as movie.
Tim had been delighted to agree, his eyes lighting up at the idea of next time. Jason promised himself that he was going to be the best big brother to this kid.
God, why had he ever planned to kill him? Just seemed stupid in retrospect.
Jason ended up liking the movie, for the record. Tim had fallen asleep on Jason’s arm partway through. Turns out the kid slept like a rock; a rare and valuable trait for a Bat. Jason bundled him up on the couch and texted Barbie to let her know he had fallen asleep and was probably going to stay the night.
Then he looked at the kid, who was still in his Robin costume, sans the mask which was on the kitchen island. That couldn’t be comfortable.
He got one of his t-shirts, hoodies, and sweatpants from his dresser and laid them on the coffee table, with a little note telling Tim he could change if he wanted when he woke up, before he himself settled in for the night– even if it was only 6 AM.
Hey, they worked at night. 6 AM was like, afternoon to evening for them. Grandpa hours to go to bed, to be honest.
He briefly contemplated the loss of his plan, the one thing he’d been working towards for years now.
He couldn’t find it in himself to mind it all that much.