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Initially, Tim thought he was a guilt-induced hallucination.
He hadn’t been sure what he was supposed to feel guilty about yet, but he had been certain there was something.
However, as he was trailed by the former Robin, he realized that it wasn’t him, or anything he did, it was the cape.
A near exact replica of the previous Robin’s, the cape and its colors were the only things about the costume that remained the same when Tim picked up the mantle.
The boots had changed, the pants– or the previous lack there of– had changed, the atmosphere surrounding the job entirely had grown dark and somber, but that cape was still the same, and so was the little Robin that trailed after it.
Tim had immediately known exactly who he was– it was his Robin. Tim had adored this boy, had followed him around, camera strap around his neck, on many occasions.
For the most part, the young boy stuck close to Tim or Bruce– he was younger than he was when he died, seemingly returned to the height of Robin’s “magic.” As such, he didn’t know about the fate he fell victim to. He didn’t even seem to know he was dead.
He would follow Bruce around and talk and talk– he didn’t seem to know that Bruce couldn’t hear him. When Bruce wouldn’t respond, Jason would simply turn to Tim and make a remark about “those damn bat ears muffling his hearing,” while mimicking said ears, bringing his two pointer fingers up to rest at either side of his head as he stomped back and forth.
Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, Tim would talk to him– knowing all too well how lonely the boy must be.
“You mean you really remember seeing me?” Tim would question the boy.
“Yeah, hiding ‘round corners with your big camera. Did ya ever take anythin’ good?”
Tim shared everything with Little Jason, showing him his pictures, talking about books, reteaching him lessons from school– Jason just loved school.
One day though, Dick came to visit without Tim knowing.
Tim was sitting in his room and, as far as the rest of the world knew, he was alone.
To Tim’s knowledge, the manor was empty, it was summer break and Bruce was at work, Alfred was at the grocery.
The door to his bedroom was cracked and Tim was talking back and forth with Jason, giggling and telling stories.
Dick peaked his head into Tim’s room and was shocked to find him alone after he had heard his laughter echoing all down the hall.
Tim turned around at the sound of a clearing throat, his heart sinking when he realized he’d been caught, talking to a ghost that only he could see.
A blush rises up Tim’s neck as he begins to stutter out a defense. “I- I’m not- I’m not crazy!”
Dick looks at him a moment, puzzled. “I hadn’t said that you were… yet.”
“There’s a reasonable explanation for this,” Tim begins again, hoping Dick will stay to listen.
Tim isn’t sure yet what he’s going to tell Dick, but it’s gotta be something that doesn’t get him sent to the looney bin.
“Go ahead and explain then,” Dick says, leaning against Tim’s doorframe, eyebrow raised.
“Umm…” Tim is still thinking.
Dick sighs, clearly exhausted, whether it’s from this interaction or something else, Tim doesn’t know. “How about you try the truth Bud.”
Screw it.
“You’re gonna have to sit down and be real open minded for this one,” Tim says, scooting over on his bed, Little Jason sitting quietly next to him.
Dick steps inside the room and sits down next to his younger brother, wiping his hands down the front of his jeans. Dick then turns and looks at Tim expectantly.
Inhaling deeply, Tim decides to go for it all at once, “I’m talking to Jason. Jason when he was Robin, he’s about my age and I’m the only one that can see him. I think he’s haunting the suit, and at first I tried to ignore him, but now he’s kinda my best friend. I haven’t told Bruce, or anyone at all. I’m really sorry. Also, he says "Hi.””
Dick looks like he’s going through all five stages of grief at once.
Finally, Dick just looks sad. “Tim, don’t joke about something like that, that’s really messed up and frankly disrespectful to Jason.”
“But I’m not lying! C’mon, ask a question and I’ll tell you what he says!” Tim pleads, this is not going good– although, how could it?
“Tim, no. This isn’t funny.” Dick is beginning to stand up and leave, clearly hurt by Tim’s ‘joke.’
“I swear it’s true! Please just ask him something only he would know!”
It must be the desperation in Tim’s voice that makes Dick turn around and try to mask his hurt with an eyeroll. “Fine,” Dick throws his hands up in the air. “What’s your social security number ‘Jason’?”
Tim turns to his right, expecting an answer, but instead is met with a puzzled look from Jason. “Fuck if I know, Mom prolly used the card to seperate lines of Coke– that’s if we even fuckin’ had it to begin with.”
Tim’s ears tinge pink, still facing Jason, he says “Jay, I can’t say that.”
“No, what was it?” Dick asks, and if Tim’s not mistaken, he thinks he can see a glint of hope in his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Tim repeats Jason’s words, “He says, “Fuck if I know, Mom prolly used the card to seperate lines of Coke– that’s if we even fuckin’ had it to begin with.””
Dick just looks at him blankly.
“Tim–” Dick cuts himself off, seemingly not knowing what to say.
“I’m sorry, Jason said it! I was just repeating it, I promise,” Tim presses his right hand to his chest, right above his heart.
Dick takes a step closer, looking curious. “What does he think of my hair?” Dick asks, and there’s something in his eyes that tells Tim that this may be in reference to a previous conversation between the two.
Tim turns to Jason expectantly and is met with a wide grin that rivals that of the Cheshire Cat. “It don’t really matter what I think of it. S’long as Wally likes it,” Jason giggles.
Tim raises an eyebrow and turns to Dick, “Who’s Wally?”
Dick’s jaw drops, “He’s um, he’s a hero you haven’t met yet, and a very close friend of mine.”
“They’re a little more than close,” Jason says, wiggling his eyebrows. “One time, I walked out onto the balcony and saw them together, and they were doin’ a little more than jus’ sharin’ a cigarette.”
Tim blushes and giggles at Jason as he turns his back to Tim, crossing his arms around his front and moving his hands up and down his back so it looks like he is making out with someone.
“What?” Dick asks incredulously.
“Is Wally a good kisser?” Tim asks, sharing a look with Jason.
Dick blushes red and face palms, it’s safe to say he believes Tim now.