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The first time Jason dreamed about Tim Drake was before he even knew the kid’s name.
It was the first gala that Bruce took him to and he botched it. He joshed it so hard, Jason would be more surprised if Bruce didn’t kick him out first thing the next morning, maybe even as soon as they got home. Bruce had spent hours going over everything with him, some things more than once, and Jason had still ruined the whole thing.
It was so stupid! Some old guy with a five o’clock shadow and a suit smelling of cigarette smoke tried to shake Jason’s hand. It had been two hours into the event, and Jason had been on his best behaviour all night hoping that it would convince Bruce that Jason was worth keeping around. He was strung tight, his thoughts racing with all manner of etiquette and appropriate behaviour. The moment he’d seen a hand and smelled cigarette smoke, Jason had reacted instinctively and bit down so hard on the guy’s wrist, he needed stitches.
Luckily, Bruce had been right there next to him. Bruce had eased him away from the cursing, spluttering man and out of the hall entirely, then walked with him into the bathroom and dabbed the blood off his face gently with a handkerchief. The only one who had been in the bathroom to witness Bruce Wayne washing blood off the face of his newest ward was some kid who darted as soon as he realized what was happening.
Unfortunately, that left Jason alone with Bruce.
“It’s okay, Jaylad, it’s all going to be alright,” Bruce had promised, gently cradling Jason in his arms like he was a priceless piece of porcelain instead of a rabid animal.
“It’s not!” Jason insisted. “You’re gonna kick me out!”
“I’m not going to kick you out, Jay,” Bruce said gently. “You were on edge all night, I’m proud of you for making it so far-“
“You were testing me to see if I was good as Dick, weren’t you?” Jason sobbed. “I’m not! I'm nothing like Dick and you're gonna kick me out and I’m gonna starve and-“
“Jason, Jason,” Bruce repeated his name gently. “This wasn’t a test, Jason. I promise. I’m proud of you for doing so well even though you aren’t used to this. We can go home now. Alfred can make you something warm.”
Jason clung to Bruce’s suit, getting snot and tears all over the front of it while Bruce carried him out. He felt so stupid and useless and tense that he fell asleep in the backseat before Bruce even shut the car door.
And Jason saw him.
A small kid, Jason thought he kind of looked like the kid who scurried out of the bathroom, was sitting in the middle of a large field. Grass and dandelions as far as the eye could see, a pleasant breeze, and fluffy clouds to occasionally shade them from the sunlight. Jason was sitting next to him, but he carefully avoided eye contact. He sniffled a bit, still emotional and sure that Bruce would leave him on the corner somewhere in a cardboard box.
“Hey,” the kid said.
Jason looked over. The kid was tiny, wearing the suit Jason had seen him in earlier. It was tailored to his tiny body, leaving no room to grow into, so this was clearly a rich kid. His face was round and his eyes owlish as he peered at Jason. He looked soft. Jason kind of wanted to pat his head and squish his cheeks.
“What do you want?” Jason mumbled.
“Don’t be upset,” the kid ordered, all four feet of authority with a high-pitched voice. “You’re not s’posed to be upset.”
“I can be upset if I want,” Jason argued.
“Nuh-uh,” the kid replied. “You’re Robin. Robin’s like a ray of light in the dark. If Robin’s upset, the world might end, y’know?”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Jason told him.
“Sure it is,” the kid scoffed. “You’re way better at not getting upset than Dick was, so you’re doing great.”
“What?” Jason huffed. “Are we talking about the same Dickhead here? Leader of the Teen Titans, the only person with photographic proof that B can laugh at jokes, that Dick?”
“Yeah,” the kid said firmly. “He used to get mad at Batman for everything. He still gets mad at Batman for everything. I think he blames Batman for global warming and the economic downfall of various foreign nations. He would blame Bruce for the fall of the Roman Empire if he could find even a sliver of proof.”
“Damn,” Jason commented.
The kid giggled. Jason glared at him, assuming it was at his expense, but the kid just grinned wide, revealing two missing teeth, and leaned closer to him. Jason couldn’t help but lean closer in response.
“I think you’re cooler than him,” the kid whispered, eyes bright and honest. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
“I’m gonna tell him,” Jason immediately responded.
“What?” the kid squawked, frowning and hunching up.
“I’m telling everyone that a cute kid likes me more than Dickface,” Jason explained. “Lookit your little face. I can’t believe you think the street rat is better than Dick.”
“Dick was a circus kid, wasn’t he?” the kid muttered, face bright red. “I don’t see how he or I could judge you for having a different upbringing than us.”
“I hate that you have a point,” Jason grumbled.
There was a light touch on his arm, and he looked down to see the kid barely applying any pressure. Treating him like priceless porcelain the way Bruce did. His expression was painfully earnest.
“I don’t think Bruce is going to kick you out, Jason,” the kid said firmly. “You could bite everyone in the room and tear the curtains from the walls and push all the food off the tables, but Bruce still wouldn’t kick you out.”
“How do you know?” Jason questioned, though he was already mostly convinced.
The kid gave him another beaming smile that showed off his missing teeth.
“Dick brought a chandelier down on a buffet table and sent thirteen people to the hospital the third time Bruce took him to a gala,” he explained. “If Dick could be forgiven for all that, I think you can be forgiven for biting one guy.”
Jason felt, strangely, reassured and warm. He gave the kid a weak smile back. He felt like crying, but for a new reason.
He woke up, disoriented, while Bruce was carefully unbuckling his seatbelt. He peered down at him, his vision hazy and his mind whirling a bit from his dream.
“B, did Dick send thirteen people to the hospital by dropping a chandelier on a buffet table?” he asked.
Bruce stopped all motion and stared at him. Jason stared back. There was a long moment of silence, then Bruce heaved a heavy sigh and dropped his head into his hands.
“He brought down a chandelier onto two buffet tables at two separate events,” he muttered. “The second time resulted in fifteen people going to the hospital. Only thirteen were actually admitted, yes.”
“So, you aren’t gonna kick me out for biting that guy?” Jason suggested.
“If I can forgive Dick, forgiving you is easy, Sport,” Bruce told him.
Jason clung to Bruce again, this time just to cling to him and make him carry Jason to his room. Jason felt warm. That kid had been right about Dick, maybe he was right about Jason, too.
“How did you find out about Dick’s chandelier experience?” Bruce asked, quietly. “I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it.”
“You haven’t,” Jason agreed. “This kid told me about it while I was dreaming."
Bruce hummed and nodded. Jason yawned. They were both halfway up the stairs when Bruce froze and Jason stiffened. They gave each other a sharp look.
“A kid in your dream?” Bruce specified.
“Fuck,” Jason muttered. “That was my soulmate, wasn’t it? Fuck.”
“Do you know who it was?” Bruce asked. “We could still find them, even if it’s just based on a face.”
“I dunno,” Jason muttered. “I fucked it up, didn’t I? God, I’m stupid, you're supposed to ask important questions, not just listen to them tell you you’re good at being Robin!”
“They said what?” Bruce exclaimed.
“What?” Jason snarled, hackles raised. “You don’t think I’m good at being Robin?”
“I think you’re great at being Robin,” Bruce stated. “But, I also think that your soulmate who you don’t know shouldn’t know that you’re Robin.”
Jason stared at him blankly for a second, before it clicked and all the colour drained out of his face.
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah, no, he shouldn’t know, huh?”
“I’m not disappointed in you, Jason,” Bruce promised, before the idea could take root. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you at all.”
“I blame me,” Jason mumbled.
“You shouldn’t,” Bruce promised. “I’m sure your soulmate will come to you sooner than later. They know you’re Robin, they can find us easily. We’ll figure this all out then.”
“Yeah,” Jason agreed, relaxing incrementally.
“In the meantime,” Bruce said. “Get some sleep. I’m going to go convince Alfred not to murder Mr. Vames in cold blood.”
“Who?”
Alfred was convinced that it was entirely Mr. Vames’ fault that Jason bit his hand. Mr. Vames shouldn’t have approached from behind, nor should he have announced his presence via touch instead of word. Jason felt a bit better that Alfred was so thoroughly on his side, but he felt a bit bad for how thoroughly Alfred was telling off a man with four stitches.
His soulmate didn’t appear. Even after weeks, months, a full year had passed, Jason still hadn’t met his soulmate. Bruce was reassuring, but Jason couldn’t help but feel like his soulmate was disappointed in him. Like his soulmate had seen him once and was done with him.
Nobody came forward with the knowledge that Jason was Robin, Bruce was Batman, and Dick was Nightwing/Robin, either. It was like the kid disappeared off the face of the planet after appearing in Jason’s dream.
Jason couldn’t stop thinking about the dream, about the casual ease with which some rich kid had told him he was cooler than Dick. A part of him wanted to brag, especially to Dick, but the rest of him wanted to hold the memory close and never show it to anybody. He wanted to meet his soulmate again, ask him if his words were true, if he really believed what he’d said. Ask if his brilliant smile was really all for Jason.
The next time he dreamed about Tim Drake was after over a year had passed.
He found himself in the field again, with its dandelions and green grass and fluffy clouds. The breeze was sweet. The day was warm, but not stifling.
The kid was the one sniffling this time, his round cheeks less round and his hair a bit longer, but not very long. His eyes were red-rimmed and widened in surprise when he saw Jason.
He immediately sat up straight, rubbing his eyes desperately with one hand and running his other hand through his hair haphazardly. Jason stared, unsure how to approach and worried the kid would bolt before Jason even got close.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“H-hey,” the kid stammered. “Give me- give me a second, I look like a mess-“
“Dude, you’re like eight,” Jason muttered.
The kid’s eyes lit up in anger this time, his brows furrowed and his mouth set in a hard line as he glared at Jason.
“I’m thirteen!” he stated.
Jason raised both his hands up. He’d deliberately lowballed, but he would never have guessed thirteen. That made the kid around two years younger than him. Jason couldn’t believe such a small kid was nearly in his teens already.
“Okay, sorry,” Jason offered. “You still don’t need to worry about your appearance, though.”
“I do!” the kid insisted. “What if I meet my soulmate in a dream one if these days? I can’t look like this.”
Jason’s mind went a bit staticky. He blinked at the kid, who was still grumbling under his breath and trying to fix his hair.
“What do you mean, if?” Jason asked. “Aren’t we…?”
“There’s no way,” the kid said firmly. “This is just a regular dream.”
Jason felt a little bit hurt.
“There’s no way Jason Todd is my soulmate,” the kid continued, cupping his blushing face in his hands. “That’s impossible. Have you seen him? He’s Jason Todd!”
Jason felt a bit confused, but also strangely flattered. He decided to play along, for now, and see what he could learn. It was one of the first things B taught him. Although, B probably hadn’t taught him that with this in mind…
“Is there something wrong with Jason Todd?” Jason Todd, himself, asked.
“Of course not, he’s Robin,” the kid sighed, a bit dreamily. “He’s so… cool.”
“You don’t want him to be your soulmate?” Jason suggested.
“I would love it more than anything if he was my soulmate,” the kid explained. “It’s just impossible for him to be. He’s way out of my league.”
“He’s… out of… your league?” Jason repeated.
The kid smiled, something small and tender and heart wrenching. Something suffused with care.
“He knocked out three of the Joker’s teeth the other day,” the kid sighed, definitely dreamily. “He bit Mr. Vames so hard, Mr. Vames had to get four stitches. He’s amazing.”
“I think you have a problem,” Jason said, because he was flustered and slightly concerned by where this kid had gotten all of that knowledge.
“I just think he’s neat,” the kid mumbled, blushing bright red. “He’s so cool. I had a dream about him last year, too. I thought it might’ve been a soulmate dream, but there’s no way I would’ve messed up a first shared dream like I did, so there’s no way it actually was. You know?”
“How did you mess it up?” Jason asked. He’d thought the kid did pretty good.
“I didn’t even tell him my name!” the kid huffed. “And, I let it slip that I know he’s Robin. I don’t know what Mr. Wayne does to people who know their identities, and I don’t want to know!”
“I see,” Jason said, instead of screaming eternally. “How would you have introduced yourself, instead?”
“Hm,” he thought about it. “I guess I would’ve said, “I’m Tim, it’s nice to make your acquaintance.” Mom said that’s the polite thing to do.”
“Your name is Tim,” Jason breathed, relief and warmth suffusing him at finally knowing.
Tim (and how nice it was to finally know his name!!!) looked at Jason and tilted his head in confusion.
“Yeah,” he agreed, smiling with a touch of bewilderment. “Tim Drake.”
The dream ended in a rush. Jason sat straight up in his bed and felt his heart beating out of his chest. His face was hot and probably bright red. He was smiling so wide it hurt. He felt like his heart would burst.
“Tim,” he said gently. “Tim Drake.”
He thought to himself that he’d tell Bruce the next day.
He didn’t think he would find out about his real birth mother the next day.
He didn’t think he’d leave the state, the country, the continent on a wild goose chase.
He didn’t think he would lie in the rubble of his own body and watch a timer countdown to zero.
His last thought was that it was a pity he couldn’t have met his soulmate in person.
The third time Jason dreamed about Tim Drake, he was only barely out of the Lazarus Pit.
Talia had shown him Robin, and he was angry and hurt and furious and, partially, wondering why the name “Tim Drake” rang a bell with him. Jason tried to shut that part out, but he couldn’t completely. He tried to be angrier, but his mind kept being inquisitive. It was on the tip of his tongue. He threw himself into sleep to try and forget about it entirely and plot the kid’s death.
The first thing he saw when he next opened his eyes was the blue sky, dotted with fluffy clouds. He felt green grass tickling the back of his neck as he laid on it, saw a yellow dandelion sprouting from amongst the green, and thought that this was the most peaceful he’d felt since he’d died. Not that that was saying much.
He sat up and turned to look, automatically, for his soulmate. The Lazarus Pit had taken most of the memories of his two dreams away, leaving him with only the knowledge that he’d had two and that his soulmate had liked him. Even the Lazarus Pit couldn’t twist the words to mean something else.
“Jason,” a soft voice said. “I’m so sorry.”
And there was the kid, curled in on himself, sobbing. Jason scrambled up and crawled over on his hands and knees. He recognized the Robin costume, the dark hair, the blue eyes, the face of his replacement, the face that should fill him with anger and resentment, but all he could see was Tim Drake and how sad he was.
“I wish you were here, Jason,” Tim sobbed, scrubbing uselessly at his leaking eyes. “Why does everything have to be so difficult?”
“What do you mean?” Jason asked, lost.
“I thought, if I became Robin, I could live up to your legacy,” Tim explained, face contorted in pain as though he was dying from it. “I thought I could make you proud. But I’m not, am I? I’m just making everything worse. Bruce never needed me, Dick doesn’t need me, my team doesn’t need me- I might as well throw myself off a tall building.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jason exclaimed. “None of that! You aren’t allowed to die!”
Tim glared at him. It was watery and less threatening than a bunny rabbit.
“You aren’t allowed to die,” Jason repeated. “And no one’s allowed to hurt you, including yourself.”
Tim now looked kind of confused. He slowly unfolded himself, sitting up and facing Jason. He looked around with a keen eye. Jason was impressed by that deductive mind, still working even in dreams. Always working, Talia had implied. “A clever bird,” she’d said. She hadn’t mentioned he was pretty.
“Oh my God,” Tim said, his tone blank.
Jason grinned. Tim had definitely just realized-
“This was all real, you were my soulmate all along,” he whispered, staring hard at Jason’s face. “But- I’m seeing you now- you’re dead-“
“Not anymore,” Jason replied.
“Your eyes are green,” Tim muttered.
“Didja prefer blue?” Jason suggested.
“Green like the Lazarus Pit,” Tim mumbled.
Jason just nodded. He reached out and took one of Tim’s hands in his own. It was so much smaller than his. Tim in general was so much smaller than him.
“Jason,” Tim whispered, sounding a bit scared.
“Don’t be like that,” Jason chuckled, tugging him up into his lap and hugging him. He set his cheek on top of Tim’s head and sighed so his breath would ruffle his hair. Tim’s hands hung in the air, uncertainty of where to go keeping them from going anywhere. Jason released Tim just to guide his hands into place. One over Jason’s shoulder and the other around his waist, opposite to Jason’s so they fit together neatly.
“You aren’t upset?” Tim asked quietly.
“Nah,” Jason admitted. “Should've known a bird nerd would turn into Robin, eventually.”
Tim hesitated for a moment. Jason let him stew in his own head. He rubbed his cheek against Tim's hair and imagined how much better this would feel in person.
"Where are you?" Tim asked.
"Somewhere," Jason replied.
He buried his nose in Tim's hair. The smell in dreams was faint and he wasn't sure how accurate it was. Tim smelled like cheap shampoo. Jason faintly recalled the small, rich kid in a perfectly tailored suit and found it pretty funny.
"Could you come back?" Tim suggested.
Jason pulled away just enough to look at his face. He wore a hopeful expression, his eyes big and blue and highly convincing probably only to Jason specifically.
"Why do you want me to come back?" he asked.
Tim gave him a small, slightly guilty smile that quickly morphed into something smooth and confident.
"Don't you want to meet up?" he suggested. "You've known we're soulmates for so long now, don't you have anything to say to me?"
"You're a bit slow on the uptake," Jason critiqued immediately. "I don't blame you, really. But you should really work on your emotional intelligence. I was really excited during that second dream, y'know? And you didn't even notice."
"I noticed," Tim said. "Why else would I have been so convinced it was a dream? Jason Todd was excited to be my soulmate. Impossible."
"You need to work on that self-confidence too," Jason sighed. "A cute kid told me I was better than Dick and you think I wouldn't be excited for him to be my soulmate?"
"Are you coming back to us or what?" Tim snapped, digging his nails into Jason's back slightly, as though in punishment.
Jason shivered. He leaned down and buried his face in the curve of Tim's neck, sliding his arm down from Tim's shoulder so both were wrapped around his waist. Tim obligingly raised both of his arms to rest on Jason's shoulders, then leaned the side of his head against Jason's.
"Eventually," Jason finally admitted. "But, I think you might be surprised when we meet. I probably won't act the same."
"How do you mean?" Tim asked.
"It's hard to explain." Jason wasn't sure himself. "You'll understand when you see it." And hopefully he wouldn't hate him for it.
Tim didn't seem entirely convinced, but he let Jason lay in his arms for the rest of the dream and didn't say a word.
"Are you mad?" Jason suggested.
"No, of course not," Tim said blithely. "Why on earth would I be mad at you?"
He was sitting with his back to Jason. He kept smacking his hands away when Jason tried to touch his sides. He was definitely mad.
"I told you I would be different," Jason reminded him.
"Different," Tim agreed. "You said nothing about trying to kill me."
"Come on now, I wasn't trying to kill you," Jason cooed.
Tim looked over his shoulder and raised a brow, unimpressed.
"I was trying to maim you," Jason corrected gently.
Tim "hmph"d and turned back around. Jason scooted a little closer. Without even looking at him, Tim scooted farther away.
"I changed my mind," Tim stated. "Don't come back at all."
"I can change!" Jason insisted.
"I'm not interested in an abusive relationship," Tim told him.
Jason froze. "You were interested in a relationship?"
"It doesn't matter," Tim said firmly. "Because I'm not anymore."
Tim went to stand up, and Jason gave up on subtlety. He launched himself forward and wrapped his arms around Tim's waist, sending Tim crashing onto his lap. Tim pushed at him, but Jason held on, even going so far as to wrap his legs around Tim's and hook his chin over Tim's shoulder, effectively locking him in place. He could feel the tension in Tim's body, could see the dark scowl on his face, but he just held on tighter.
"Hear me out," Jason pleaded.
"What other choice do I have?" Tim asked sarcastically.
"I really didn't mean to hurt you," Jason said.
"You tried to hit me with a metal bar!"
"Okay, I was trying to hurt you," Jason admitted. "But I wasn't really- I wasn't in control, okay? I wasn't quite me."
"So?" Tim huffed, struggling again.
"So," Jason said, holding on even tighter. "I don't actually want to hurt you. You've gotta believe me. Do I seem like I want to hurt you?"
Tim fell silent. Jason watched as his expression shifted from anger to disappointment.
"Despite everything, I was really excited to have you as my soulmate," Tim commented.
"I was excited too," Jason promised. "I'm still excited. If I was any less excited, I wouldn't be clinging so hard."
Tim sighed. He finally relaxed, leaning his back against Jason fully. He rubbed his eyes.
"What do you suggest I do?" Tim asked. "So that you don't try to kill me again?"
Jason thought about it.
"Could you beat me up?" he asked.
Tim thought about it too.
"If I got the jump on you, maybe," he answered. "But I'm always going to want to go easy on you. You are Jason Todd, after all."
That was so cute. Jason buried his face in Tim's back to hide how happy the answer made him. Tim sighed.
"There's got to be a better way," he stated. "I guess now's the time to tell Bruce you're my soulmate. He probably has books on this sort of thing."
"He'd probably suggest you beat me up too," Jason said. "Knock some sense in, yeah?"
"Despite what you think, Bruce does care about you," Tim grumbled. "He blew up a helicopter with the Joker in it, trying to kill him, right after you died."
"Then why's the Joker still alive?" Jason asked.
"You know why," Tim said. "You read the same files I did. Does the Joker ever die?"
"I could kill him."
"Then fucking do it," Tim snarled.
He dug his nails into the backs of Jason's wrists. Jason shivered, then paused.
"Maybe you can't beat me up," he said, mind swirling. "But you could probably scratch me."
"What?" Tim questioned.
"Try and bite me right now," Jason ordered, raising his wrist up to Tim's mouth.
"Why?" Tim questioned.
"I just have an idea. Hurry and do it."
Tim hesitated for a moment, then bit him. It was an incredibly soft bite, but it was still Tim's lips and teeth pressed against his skin, damp heat digging into the space between. Jason flinched, but curled even closer at the same time. Tim pulled his hand away on his own.
"Did you have fun?" he suggested.
"Try to bite me next time you see me in person," Jason said.
Tim went very still. Slowly, he turned around in Jason's lap, his expression full of question marks. Jason smiled at him, then brushed his lips against Tim's cheek.
"At the very least," he lilted, "you'll feel better if you do."
Tim faced forward again and slumped back against Jason. He very noticeably didn't say a word. Jason felt rather pleased.
"Our first date should be to a diner," he said. "They've got good food at diners."
Tim huffed out a little laugh.
"Okay," he agreed. "But I get to pick."
"I don't even know if the diners I liked are still open," Jason admitted.
"A few of them are," Tim told him.
"How do you know which are my favourites?"
Jason could hear the smile in Tim's voice when he said, "I found Bruce's file on you."
For a moment, Jason considered complaining. Whether he wanted to complain that Tim had an unfair advantage of knowing more about him than he did about Tim or about Bruce's objectionable habit of keeping files on everyone he knew, Jason wasn't sure. Ultimately, he decided it was better to redirect his attention entirely.
"I bet I could hack into Bruce's computers to find his file on you," he stated.
"Bruce's file on me is tiny," Tim claimed.
"The one he lets you see is tiny," Jason corrected. "The one he has deep in his storage is probably huge."
"You can't read my file, that would be weird," Tim said.
"What type of hypocrite are you?" Jason questioned.
They quipped back and forth for the rest of the dream. Both were content with it. Jason just looked forward to when Tim bit him in real life.