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Jason’s been to carnivals like this before. Back when his mom still had good days and they’d have free nights for kids. Even a few out in some European town that Roy would drag him too. They’re all pretty much the same, no matter where you go.
Rides that are one bolt away from collapse, carneys trying to lure you into playing their rigged game for a cheap bootlegged Pikachu, and various oddities that mystify and horrify the general populace. Bearded ladies, 6 legged cows, hell Jason’s pretty sure he met Killer Croc’s cousin at a tiny traveling sideshow in Bournemouth.
This is his first time seeing a dragon though.
They’re pretty rare nowadays. Mostly hunted out of extinction or living in sanctuaries down in Brazil. Jason’s seen more unicorns and Kappa at events like this, even the stray kelpie, but not dragons. He hasn’t actually seen one in person before and had really expected it to be much bigger.
Damian likes to tell Jason all sorts of animal facts when he stops by the manor, and he’s been especially interested in endangered species lately.
He’d hate that Jason was even here, calling the whole of the carnival “uncouth” and probably try to appropriate the entire menagerie of beasts they’ve got. Including the lion Jason saw a few tents back. But, well, someone had to make sure the whole thing was on the up-and-up, and Dick was in New York with the Titans this week.
Surprisingly, traveling Carnivals like to hide all sorts of things like drugs and money and illegal artifacts.
The dragon is in a cage sat on a small stage in the middle of a tent, about the size of a fat corgi. Its teal scales glint in the spotlights as it paces in a small circle. Honestly Jason was pretty sure there were rules about animal living conditions in circuses and the like. There’s a bored worker hovering along the back wall scrolling on her phone as patrons filter in and out.
Jason waits until a mom is done holding her son up and pointing at the dragon, telling her child outdated information about dragon hordes, to wander away before he steps up. The dragon eyes him warily as he moves closer but doesn’t stop pacing along the four walls of its cage, pawing at the bars every now and then with claws that have clearly been cut down. A few of the nailbeds have dried blood on them from where it was cut too close to the quick. There’s also peeling scales along the dragon’s neck from where it’s probably been scratching or rubbing against the metal of the cage, a clear sign of stress.
“Hey,” Jason calls to the worker, who jumps when he speaks and glances up from her phone as if surprised he’s actually talking to her. “How long have you guys had the dragon?”
“Uhh,” she says, vocal fry grating on Jason’s eardrums. “A while. I started, like, six months ago but they already had it then.”
Jason resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Where’s it from?” He asks and she stares at him blankly for a solid minute. “The dragon,” he clarifies, “where is the dragon from?”
“Oh, uhhhhh,” she shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, “Chile, I think. Probably.” And then before Jason can ask any other followup questions she glances down at her phone again. “It’s uhhhh, my break. I’m gonna...” She trails off, staring at Jason for a moment before just turning and ducking out under the tent.
Jesus.
Jason turns his eyes up to the ceiling. Kids today.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and raises an eyebrow at the dragon who is now eyeing him suspiciously. “She’s a real charmer, ain’t she?”
The dragon tilts its head. “I’m from Croatia, actually,” it says.
Jason starts, not yelling but perhaps making a very loud sound of surprise as he jolts back a step.
“What the fuck?” He asks. “You can talk?”
The dragon rolls its eyes. “Of course I can talk. You don’t see me surprised you can form thoughts with the amount of bleach you must have used on that hair of yours.”
Jason subconsciously lifts his hand to brush against the white streak in his hair. So the dragon could talk and also understood bleaching hair. Huh.
“So,” Jason starts, a little awkward because he’s never talked to a dragon before, “they picked you up in Croatia?”
The dragon huffs. “No, I was in San Fran visiting a friend.”
“A friend,” Jason dumbly repeats, “of course. Let me guess, unicorn?”
The dragon looks less than impressed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” it says, “unicorns don’t spend time in North America if they can help it. My friend is a phoenix if you must know.”
A phoenix. Of course.
“Now, are you going to stand there or are you going to open this cage for me?”
Both of Jason’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “And what makes you think I want to do that?”
The dragon snorts, twin puffs of smoke curling out of its nose. “Why else would you still be here and not running screaming the second I spoke? Also I recognise your tattoo.” Jason glances down at the ink curving over his forearm. “You work with Artemis, right?”
“You... you know Artemis?”
The dragon moves its head in a manner that gives Jason the impression its shrugging. “We’ve run into each other a few times.”
Huh. Small world.
Jason hops on the lifted platform that houses the dragon’s cage. “Alright, smart guy, how do I open this thing?”
The dragon rolls its eyes again. “Don’t you think I would have opened it myself if I knew how? It’s magic. Keeps me from using my fire, among other things.”
“Maybe try being a little nicer if you want my help,” Jason says as he inspects the cage.
The dragon shifts, looking abashed. “Sorry. I’ve been here for... longer than I’d like. My patience is running a little thin. I appreciate you helping me.”
Jason doesn’t bother hiding his smile. “No problem little guy, we’ll get this cage open in no time.”
“Tim,” the dragon says, wrapping its tail demurely over its feet, “my name is Tim.”
Jason privately thinks that Tim seems like a very common name for a dragon to have.
“Jason,” he says in response. “And I’ve got good and bad news. The good, is I know how to get you out of here. The bad news is that we need a key.”
Tim glances around the cage. “I don’t see a keyhole.”
“Not that type of key,” Jason stands and steps back. “It’ll be a small wooden disk with an engraving of a rune on it. Any ideas?”
Tim tilts its head, thinking. “The owner, maybe,” it says slowly, “he makes everyone call him The Ringmaster even though this isn’t a circus. He has side show attractions, not an actual show. He’s the one who took me. It might be in his trailer.”
Jason hops off the stage and shoots Tim a thumbs up. “I’ll go check it out. If not I’ll just ask him for it.”
Tim blinks at him. “Ask him? You think he’ll just hand it over to you?”
Jason grins. “I’m pretty persuasive when I want to be.”
Tim doesn’t look convinced but he sits back on his haunches. “Okay. Just— you’re coming back, right?” Jason is reminded of just how small this Dragon is, curled up on itself in a tiny cage all alone.
“Yeah, Tim,” he says, “I’ll be back. Promise.”
The dragon nods, once, and then lays back down. “I’ll be here,” it says.
Jason does his best not to make Tim wait, he really does. It’s just, between tearing apart The Ringmaster’s trailer, finding squat, facing off with a clown using an uzi, and helping the carnival evacuate, it takes him a little bit to actually track down The Ringmaster and convince him to hand over the key to Tim’s cage. The Ringmaster is actually a pretty easy going guy once Jason has broken his nose and threatened pain of death upon his entire family.
It’s late into the evening by the time Jason stumbles his way back into Tim’s tent.
The rest of the carnival is in shambles. The patrons have all been evacuated and the rest of the workers are giving Jason a wide berth at this point. He’s honestly surprised no one has called the cops yet, but, given that they’re illegally smuggling a dragon, they probably have a few other crimes up their sleeves that they’d rather the cops didn’t know about.
Tim is curled up tightly in its cage, its tail wrapped around its body with the tip resting over its nose.
It’s pretty adorable, actually.
Tim perks up when Jason ducks fully under the tent opening and sits up. Tim cocks its head as Jason approaches. “Did you get it?” It asks, eyes darting over Jason no doubt catching the new tears and stains.
Jason holds up the little wooden disk and waves it around a little. “What do you take me for?”
Tim tilts its head in the other direction. “To be fair I don’t know you. And you did take a while.”
Jason smiles sheepishly as he hops up on the stage and starts holding the wooden key up to the cage in different spots. “Sorry, ran into a few issues. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I got a little behind schedule.”
Tim hums. “Those issues wouldn’t happen to involve the gunshots I heard, do they?”
Jason winks, and then the wooden disk glows faintly when Jason holds it against the direct center of the top of the cage, and there’s a small click like a latch being undone. Tim visibly perks up at the sound, and when Jason swings the door of the cage open he seems to practically vibrate. The second the door is open wide enough Tim is darting through, wings gliding him gracefully out.
He lands somewhere behind Jason and laughs. Jason finds himself smiling as he turns around and then he pauses, because that’s not a dragon sitting on the stage behind him. There’s a boy standing, a head or two shorter than Jason himself, with a fitted button-up and smart pants. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are a piercing blue. He dusts himself off and straightens his shirt before glancing up at Jason through the hair falling in his face.
He’s beautiful.
“You’re not naked,” are the first words that come out of Jason’s mouth.
Tim raises a single perfect eyebrow. “Were you hoping I would be?”
Jason’s brain stalls as he looks Tim up and down, because honestly?
He must take too long to reply because Tim shrugs to himself before turning around and walking to one wall of the tent. He inspects it for a moment, running his hand along the fabric. It allows Jason a perfectly unobscured view of Tim’s ass.
He’s a little distracted and doesn’t notice Tim setting the tent on fire.
It’s not until Tim turns around that Jason pulls his eyes from Tim’s butt and sees the tent going up in flames with them still inside.
“What the fuck!” Jason jumps down from the stage and meets Tim halfway. Tim grins up at him, flames casting harsh shadows on his face and causing his eyes to twinkle.
“You didn’t think I’d leave this place standing, did you?” Tim asks, and then before Jason can respond he takes Jason’s hand and pulls him from the tent.
“I just didn’t think you’d burn it down with us still inside,” Jason protests, but follows Tim diligently.
Tim snorts, rolling his eyes. “As if I’d let harm come to you.” And then, in a blasé manner, he sets another tent on fire. And then a food stand. And then a ride.
It’s mesmerizing to watch. To see the sparks flow from Tim’s lips as he breathes destruction out into the world around them. Jason’s face feels hot and he’s not sure it’s just the flames.
After Tim deems his revenge complete he lets Jason lead him to the parking lot. Waving cheekily at The Ringmaster who watches his life’s work go up in smoke.
Tim only lets go of Jason’s hand when they reach the car. He squeezes it once and flashes Jason a smile before moving to slide into the passenger seat.
Jason stands for a moment, in the night air with smoke swirling around him and his heart beating fast in his chest and thinks, emphatically, fuck.
He gets in the car.
“Where to?” He asks and then has to will himself not to react as Tim leans over the console and pecks him on the cheek.
Tim shrugs, smile playing at his lips. “Wherever.”
Well. Alright.
Jason starts the car and doesn’t even jump when Tim slides a hand down his thigh and leans on his shoulder.
Apparently Tim was sticking around. Jason found that he didn’t really mind.