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The clouds churned overhead. The storm pressed low, heavy, imminent—and Tim couldn’t stop.
Dick watched him, worry sharp in his eyes, his gaze snapping from the sky back to Tim again and again.
“You need to take cover!”
The shout was clear. The warning too.
Tim didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. Not without knowing where Jason was.
“When we find Hood, I will!”
Dick growled, jaw tight, too much like Batman for his own liking. He crossed the distance between them and grabbed Tim’s arm, grip firm.
“You’ll be useless if the rain hits you.”
Tim shook him off easily.
The resolve in his eyes should have made Dick step back. It didn’t. Not this time.
In any other situation, he would have listened. Not now. Not without Jason.
“When the rain starts, I’ll hide. But right now—” he pointed at the clouds, at the threat that still hadn’t broken loose, “—I won’t.”
They locked eyes. A silent struggle. Tim held his ground, refusing to yield.
Dick shouted, then gave in. He pointed at him with his escrima stick, his voice steady, final.
“At the first drop of rain, you get out of sight. Even if you have to trespass. I want you off the streets.”
Tim nodded. That was as close to permission as he was going to get.
“I’ll take the north,” Dick said. “You cover the south.”
Tim was already moving. He didn’t need further explanation. That had been his plan anyway.
He ran, hands tightening as he let the faint murmur of his voice slip into the city, threading through streets and alleys, curling around corners, circling its target. No one knew about this—the magic that surrounded him. No one needed to know. Especially Jason.
His jaw clenched as he quickened his pace. No one had expected someone to try to kidnap Jason Peter Wayne-Todd in front of so many people.
Or to actually manage it.
They should’ve known something was wrong when Batman’s system lost his signal. But this was Jason. Red Hood. Some low-level idiots shouldn’t have stood a chance.
They had.
Two hours. No word. No sign. Barbara had nothing from the cameras. The kidnappers had vanished too long ago, and they had taken even longer to mobilize.
Tim snarled, the urge to hit something burning hot in his chest. Preferably the kidnappers.
How hadn’t they acted sooner? How hadn’t he?
He didn’t need Batman to rescue Jason. He didn’t need anyone else.
He could always find Jason if he wanted to. The problem was—Jason would notice the moment he started to sing.
The magic wasn’t subtle. Not even close.
And fuck, acting behind Jason’s back already made his stomach twist. His stupid childhood crush hovered around him like it meant nothing, and Tim had to act like he was cool with it.
He didn’t fucking feel cool. He felt pathetic.
And now he felt like a complete failure. Jason was missing. Kidnapped. And Tim could have stopped it if he’d moved faster.
His boots hit the ground inside one of Black Mask’s warehouses.
The rumor that Jason was Red Hood’s sugar daddy had spread with the same speed and stupidity as the one about Bruce dating himself.
Two idiots, terrible at hiding their secret identities, reduced to a fake relationship narrative just to keep people guessing.
Tim kicked the warehouse door open. Rage did the rest.
The idea of being rivals with himself wasn’t any better, but at least it was funny. That way, Red Robin or Tim Drake wouldn’t look wrong if they both started dating Red Hood or Jason Todd.
He shook his head. He didn’t have time for this.
He unfolded his staff and slipped into the warehouse quietly (after kicking the damn door in, obviously), following the pull of his magic.
It would have been easier if he’d told Barbara about this. Asked for her help. Figure out how many goons were inside. But he already felt too exposed. Too pathetic.
He could rescue Jason on his own. Then disappear. Easy.
Voices caught his attention. Two men stood in front of a door. He felt the pull in his chest—sharp, unmistakable—drawing him toward the space behind it. Right where Jason was.
Tim pulled out his smoke bombs and rolled them across the floor. One clipped a man’s boot.
The smoke spread fast. The men cursed, blinded by the sudden darkness. Tim moved quickly, precise. No time to waste. Both bodies hit the ground with dull thuds, no chance to fight back.
Tim breathed hard as he stepped into the room.
Jason was tied to a chair. Rope biting into his wrists, a strip over his eyes, tape sealing his mouth. He didn’t look worried. Just bored His head tilted slightly, like he’d heard the noise outside, and even with the gag in place, there was an unmistakable hint of a smile.
Tim exhaled, scanned the room. Corners. Ceiling. Traps.
Nothing.
Still, he didn’t relax as he stepped closer and ripped the tape from Jason’s mouth.
The smile didn’t fade.
“You took your time, Dickwing,” Jason said. Tim froze, his hand hovering over the strip covering Jason’s eyes. “It got boring when they couldn’t get ‘Red Hood’ to come rescue me.”
Jason shook his head and freed his hands easily.
Tim took a step back.
Jason scoffed and tore the strip from his eyes.
“They were real disappointed when I told them Hood hated me,” he added, amused. “Apparently cheating on him with Red Robin was a dealbreaker.”
Jason’s laugh died the moment his gaze met Tim’s. Whatever color rose to his cheeks might’ve matched Tim’s, but the mask hid it.
Tim couldn’t speak.
Jason opened his mouth, already scrambling for words—but the sound of impacts outside cut him off.
“We have to go,” Tim said, grabbing Jason’s arm and pulling him toward the exit.
Not that Red Hood needed help—but there were secret identities to protect, and fuck, what kind of excuse was that anyway?
They took the stairs fast. Too fast. Footsteps thundered behind them.
Thunder cracked overhead as they burst onto the roof. Tim swore, already pulling the grappling hook from his belt, already yanking Jason close.
It was, objectively, a ridiculous sight.
Jason—without the Hood suit—was still a full head taller than him. All muscle. Solid. Heavy. And yet he wrapped his arms around Tim’s neck, clinging to him like a helpless civilian.
Tim wanted to burst into hysterical laughter, but there was no time for that.
He fired the grappling hook at the tallest building ahead and locked an arm around Jason’s waist as the cable snapped taut and dragged them upward.
It was so stupid and unreal that Tim almost wanted to cry.
He had the strength to keep Jason steady against his chest, and realizing that made his heart burn hotter.
If Jason needed help, Tim could give it. He was proving it right now. And fuck—he hoped it meant something.
Even if it was just a damn friendship
Their feet hit the next roof hard. They both looked down. Black Mask’s goons shouted at each other below, frantic, arguing over who’d lost their prisoner.
Another thunderclap rolled in the distance, and Tim tensed.
“We need to move. Now.”
He didn’t explain. He just started running. The safe house was a few blocks away. If he was lucky—if the sky held—he could make it.
Jason followed, breath uneven. “Why do you always do this?”
Tim stopped so suddenly Jason almost ran into him.
Did he?
He looked at Jason, confused.
Jason pointed at him, giving him a once-over.
“Every time there’s a storm, rain, or water,” he said, voice tight with something Tim didn’t want to name. “You run. And you never tell me why.” He pointed toward the other side of the city, nowhere specific. “But you told Dick.”
His voice faltered, something heavy and real settling into the words.
Tim opened his mouth—thunder cracked again, closer this time. His body locked. Breath caught. He took a step back, but Jason grabbed his arm, firm.
“I thought…” Jason swallowed. “I thought you trusted me. That we were friends. That I wasn’t just—” He stopped. Exhaled. “—a nuisance.”
Tim shook his head fast. “I never thought that. I just—”
Another thunderclap split the sky. Light flooded the rooftops. Panic surged, fast and ugly. The rain was close. He could feel it. He didn’t want to—he—
“I’ll tell you,” Tim blurted, grabbing Jason’s arm, pulling him forward. “Just—please—let’s get to my place and—”
The first drop hit Jason’s face.
Jason looked up.
Tim knew it was over.
Another drop hit his own cheek.
He closed his eyes.
The rain crashed down around him—and the magic clinging to his body answered.
His legs gave out.
Jason caught him, staring at him in alarm.
“Tim!”
Tim didn’t look at him. He felt his suit shift, reshape, split—fabric giving way as bright blue scales spilled free, his legs gone, replaced by a tail that shouldn’t have been there.
Jason didn’t say anything. He just let Tim bury his face against his chest.
Silence stretched. Long enough to hurt.
“Tim,” Jason said slowly, careful. “Do you… do you need a bathtub with water?”
The question hit sideways. Tim lifted his head and met Jason’s eyes. No mockery. No horror. No judgment. Just something intense and steady he didn’t want to think too hard about.
Jason pulled a face, awkward, clearly rethinking his phrasing. “I mean—do you need more water?”
Tim lost it. Laughter burst out of him, loud and broken and a little unhinged. It shook through his chest, tipped into something sharp, wet.
Tears followed, breaking through as Jason wrapped his arms around him without hesitation, shielding him from the rain as if it could still help.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Jason whispered, letting Tim hide against his chest.
Tim drew in a deep breath, Jason’s scent and the rain flooding his senses at once. Warm hands spread over his back, blocking the drops that kept hitting his suit.
A quiet settled between them— soft. Nothing but the sound of rain striking the rooftop asphalt.
Fingers slid into Tim’s hair, slow and grounding. Tim exhaled, sinking into the touch until he could look at Jason again.
Jason cupped Tim’s face with both hands, thumbs brushing away tears already thinning under the rain. Tim closed his eyes, letting him remove the mask still covering his face.
“I’ve never seen you cry,” Jason murmured, his thumb tracing Tim’s cheek. “Is this why you never cry when I’m around?” His voice stayed low. Careful. “I always saw you holding it in. Tense. Leaving the room when you looked close to breaking. Tears sitting in your eyes that never fell.”
Tim’s breathing turned uneven, the exposure settling deep in his chest.
Jason… had he noticed? Watched him closely enough to care.
“I didn’t want to scare you,” Tim admitted.
Forced to reveal himself.
Accepting it anyway.
“And I was afraid you’d pull away,” he added, voice low. “Like everyone else.”
Jason’s grip tightened. Tim felt the faint tremor in his hands as they refused to let go, keeping him from looking away.
“How could you scare me?” Jason said, honest and soft. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
The words cut straight through Tim. Something warm wrapped around his chest. Heat climbed up his neck. His tail flicked on instinct, splashing water across the rooftop.
“Really?” he asked, breathless.
Jason’s eyes dropped immediately, focused, intent. They traced the shine of Tim’s tail, watching how each drop clung to the scales, deepening the blue.
Tim tightened his grip along his own side, trying—and failing—to keep his tail still.
Jason smiled and nodded, completely certain.
“I always knew you were special,” he said, smoothing Tim’s hair back. Rain slid off his fingers as it kept pouring. “Now I know why. You’re hypnotizing.”
Tim bit his lip and dropped his gaze.
“That’s a myth,” he muttered.
This wasn’t a conversation to have in the middle of the night, rain pounding down and the very real chance of goons still nearby. But Tim needed to defend himself.
“Sirens don’t hypnotize people with songs.”
Jason huffed a laugh, lifting a hand to his mouth when Tim shot him a narrow look.
“Then your presence alone is enough to hypnotize me,” he said easily. “No song required.”
Tim scoffed and shoved lightly at his chest. “Stop flirting, show-off.”
Jason just smiled.
“Still,” he said, glancing around, “do you need me to carry you to a bathtub? Because this—” he gestured vaguely at the rooftop, the rain, the situation, “—doesn’t look comfortable.”
Tim looked down at his tail. The grime. The water.
He nodded. “Yeah. This sucks.”
He was halfway through a plan when Jason wrapped an arm around his waist and slid his hand—without warning, without hesitation—under the curve of his tail.
Tim yelped as he was lifted, arms snapping around Jason’s neck on reflex.
Jason grinned, clearly pleased, and started walking.
“If anyone asks,” he said casually, “you’re a very dedicated cosplayer.”
Tim blinked. Then he laughed again, helpless.
“If anyone tries to touch me,” he warned, “I’ll hit them with my fin.”
Jason laughed too. Low. Warm. The kind Tim could sink into.
The rain didn’t let up as they made their way toward Jason’s apartment. The streets emptied fast, and the few people they passed didn’t linger long.
A tall, muscular man carrying a mermaid with faintly glowing scales?
Apparently not worth standing in the rain for.