Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim’s body aches. He’s had a shit day. A long shit day.
He spent the bulk of it defending Wayne Industries’ DEI policies from the tech bros investors and the idiots on the board that bought into whatever bullshit their latest podcast tried to sell them.
Then he worked an early patrol shift to cover the end of Duke’s shift so he could go on his date with Izzy. Which wouldn’t have too bas, if Tim hadn’t have to deal with a warehouse full of goons trying to traffick guns through the portside neighborhoods.
Tim took then down, and got many bruises for his troubles.

Rosie’s cold wet nose pressed against his neck helps ground Tim from the pain. Just as the sleep finally begins pulling Tim down into it’s depths, his phone rings. His special night job work phone. Tim groans and sits up. He fumbles around before finding the phone and answering.

“Whaddya want?”
“There’s a cow loose in downtown Gotham.” Jason bites out.
“So call Damian?”
“No, Tim. A Giant Cow!” He insists. The call cuts off with a scream.

Tim sighs, running a hand over his face. The clock on his bedside table reads 3:30am. Tim groans as he stumbles out of his bed and fumbles around for the pieces of his discarded costume. His dog rolls over in the bed with a soft whine.
“Go back to sleep. I’ve just got to run a quick errand. At three in the fucking morning.”
Tim pauses, one foot on the window sill. Rosie whines and fixes Tim with one of her best dramatic pouts. “Yeah, sorry sweetheart. I’m on call.” Rosie lays her head down in resignation with a heavy sigh.

Tim salutes and dives out of the window, opening up his wing gliders after free falling about three stories. The wind lifts him up into the air and carries him four blocks before Tim’s momentum slows. He spies some of the damage from the giant cow and heads in that direction with his grapple. Tim follows the trail of destruction and sees Jason crawling out of a crater, holding his side.

Tim approaches and tosses Jason one of his expandable staffs to use as a crutch or cane. Red Hood catches the staff wordlessly. But Tim knows he’s thankful. Jason is just reticent about that kind of stuff. Y’know emotions and shit.
Not that he’d ever say it out loud, because Tim values his life, but Jason and Bruce have a lot more in common than either of them acknowledge.

Tim grabs the strongest sedative in his utility belt and loads it into the collapsible crossbow he carries. The giant cow, and it truly is giant as it towers over the three story buildings lining the street, moos sadly. Poor thing is probably very confused.
“SooEE” Tim yells at the top of his lungs. Kon taught him hog calls on the Kent farm years ago on a lark. Tim will have to text him to let him know that it finally came in handy.

The massive animal turns, bumping into buildings and knocking over light fixtures, and harrumphs. Tim calls out to the cow, coaxing it closer. When it steps into range, Tim shoots the sedative. It lodges itself into the creature’s thick hide. The cow startles from the pinch of the needle, but soon settles slowly to the ground.

“You just happen to have a giant cow sedative?” Red hood asks, approaching as the animal begins to close its eyes and drift off to sleep. Tim scoffs.
“Nah, I just used my strongest one and if that didn’t work, I figured I could tame it and sick it after my enemies.” Tim snarks. Jason laughs, the modulator in his helmet scrambling the sound.
“How are we moving this thing?” Jason asks.
“Not my problem. You called me in for handling, not cleanup.” Tim replies. “I gotta get home to Rosie. I promised her cuddles and I swear she actually understands English.” Jason takes off his helmet to shoot Tim a look.
“Fine.” Jason replies, pain lacing his voice. The modulator in his helmet would normally cloak it but now Tim doesn’t have the luxury of ignoring the tone. In conjunction with the way Jason was clutching his ribs when Tim arrived, Jay is going to need medical attention. And the chance of Tim successfully bullying Jason into getting medical attention at the manor are slim.

“I guess Rosie could be appeased if you came back with me?” Tim offers. “After we get this cow outta here.” Jason hums thoughtfully.
“Okay. I could do that. She is the nicest dog I have ever met.” He accepts. Tim smiles victoriously. He’s going to trick his siblings into self-care if it kills him. Slowly but surely.
“Let me make a call then. And we can head back to my nest.” Tim says.
Jason nods and eases himself down onto the curb to rest.

Tim walks a few feet away and places a call to a few connections he made on his last off-world mission. They agree to relocate the cow to their planet’s preserve for animals used in villainy. The only thing needed now is delivery.

Tim glances back at Jason who is keeping watch, ensuring no one sneaks up on Tim or the cow.

Tim dials Bart’s number. It doesn’t complete a full ring before Bart picks up.
“Heya!” Bart greets.
“Hey Bart, you still have that stolen space ship?” Tim muses, knowing that Bart does.
“Yep. Why? Something or someone needa go into deep space?” Bart asks suspiciously.
“Yes. We have a giant cow. I already got the preserve to agree to take her, just need someone to get her there.” Tim responds. Bart hums.
“I guess I can. Kon and I can bring her to the Kent farm temporarily until I can get my ship there. No way I can fly that thing into Gotham without getting shot down.” He reasons.
“Perfect. I’ll compensate you all for your troubles, of course. Three hours of Rosie cuddles and an all day Wendy marathon fit the bill?” He teases.
Bart cackles on the other end of the line. “Absolutely. But you’re buying the snacks.”
“Deal.” Tim confirms and hangs up. Jason has begun hunching his shoulders and leaning down toward the ground.

Tim walks over to Jason and nudges his knee with the toe of his boot.
“You ready to go?” Tim asks. Jason looks up, face scrunched in pain.
“The cow is still here?” Jason questions. A super-sonic boom startles them both. Kon floats over the cow, retrieving the syringe and flying it back to Tim.
“The cow will be gone in a jiffy!” Kon promises, giving Tim a quick two finger salute.
“Any more questions or can we go make sure you didn’t break all your ribs now?”
Jason frowns. “You work with Kon often?” Jason asks, tone unreadable. At least he isn’t focusing on the pain at the moment, so Tim allows it.
“You can ask about my love life, Jason, but don’t ask any questions you don’t want to know the answer to.” He warns. Jason’s face pales as he stands, leaning heavily onto Tim. “Let’s just get the fuck outta here.” Jason grumbles. Sounds good to Tim.
Slowly, they hobble back to Tim’s nest, making sure to obfuscate their path of retreat.

Chapter Text

Tim hauls his big brother up onto the sterile metal table in the nest’s medbay. Thank goodness for his discrete secret elevator which allowed them to enter the building without any witnesses.

“Ya sure no one saw us come in ‘ere?” Jason slurs, the bloodloss apparent even through the black material of his body armor.
“The only person who has access to that elevator is the building owner.” Tim tries to reassure Jason as he grabs medical supplies out of various cabinets and drawers.
“Bruce??” Jason asks, attempting to flee the room.
“Fuck no. I own the building.” Tim corrects, sternly pushing Jason back onto the table.
“So you’re a landlord? I knew I didn’t like ya for a reason.” Jason sneers, unable to put any heat into it. Tim chuckles and shakes his head.

The wounds are fairly extensive. Getting crushed under a giant cow hoof would do that to you. Bruises, down to the bone, litter Jason’s body. His ribs, broken and peaking through the flesh on his side, are Tim’s biggest concern.
“That’ll need surgery. You want Leslie on it?” Tim asks as he cuts the suit off his brother. Jason groans. “I’ve got Lian this weekend. Her babysitter is only scheduled until 7am.”
Tim hums. “I can pick her up if you give me the codeword, bring her back here until your surgery is over. Give Roy an update on the way?”
Jason sighs, winging and holding his side.
“Fine. That’ll work.” He acquiesces.
Tim stabilizes Jason’s injuries, tending to the bruises and sprained joints.
“Once Leslie gets here, I’ll go get Lian, okay?” Tim says quietly. Jason hates to be fussed over. Keeping it simple. Addressing what tasks need done. That’s what Jason can handle.

Leslie arrives in record time. Tim would have been offended that she never arrived that fast for his injuries if he didn’t know the seriousness of Jason’s.
“Thank goodness you have the same supplies as a surgical suite.” She mutters in place of a greeting, rushing past Tim with her surgical assistant.
“Should I call in additional hands? Damian?” Tim offers. Jason makes a strangled noise from the table as Leslie murmurs to him.
“You will do no such thing. He has practicals tomorrow.” Leslie orders. Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, I’m going to go pick up Lian now. You good?” Tim asks Jason, as Leslie places the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Jason gives a hesitant thumbs up.

Retrieving Lian from her babysitter had been slightly more complicated than Tim had anticipated. Finding a car, and a proper car seat, took some doing. And his black amex card. But it was done. Tim holds Lian’s tiny hand in his as he brings her up in the elevator.
“You live in a nest?” Lian asks, nose wrinkling in disgust. Tim nods.
“Not a real one, of course.” Tim adds on but her expression doesn’t change. She turns back to the doors as they open into his apartment.
“It looks normal?” She announces, after evaluating every wall and photo hanging in the hall. “Glad you like it.” Tim chuckles.
“I didn’t say that.” Lian huffs, crossing her arms.
“Whatever you say kiddo. I’m going to set you up in the guest room and check in on Jason. If he’s feeling up to it, I’ll bring ya in to see him.” Lian plops herself down on the guest bed and pulls out her book. Tim stifles the urge to take a picture. Like father, like daughter. Lian makes a shooing motion with her hand, not looking up from her book. Tim snickers as he shuts the door behind himself.

The medbay door is open but Tim knocks on the doorframe anyway.
“Come in.” Leslie calls out. Tim peers in around the doorway. “Everyone decent?” He teases. Jason scoffs. Tim shoots his brother a wry smile before approaching.
“So how bad is it, doc?”
“He’ll be on bed rest for the next few weeks. No fighting. No exacerbating the injury.” She orders. Jason nods mutely.
“Lian is here. You feel up to seeing her?” Tim asks, nudging Jason with his elbow. Jason smiles softly. “I’d like that.” He says in a hoarse voice. Tim pats Jason on the shoulder gently and heads off to fetch his almost-niece.

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Tim organizes things while Jason and Lian catch up. Afterall, Jason runs a criminal enterprise. That doesn’t run itself. Tim ensures all the paperwork and payroll are properly sorted while he waits for the food delivery he ordered. The driver arrives and Tim tips handsomely. An extra $200 will do well in keeping anyone from wondering why Tim Drake, famous bachelor, is ordering enough food for nearly six people. Even with Leslie and her assistant leaving, Jason’s accelerated metabolism and Roy’s imminent arrival demand that much food.

Tim fixes three plates and places them onto a tray. Carefully, he brings it down the hallway to the medbay. The lights in the room are suspiciously dim. Lian’s giggles echo outside the room, bouncing off the walls and down the hall. Tim sweeps around the corner of the doorframe to see Lian perched in Jason’s lap, clutching his phone with the flashlight turned on. Jason is contorting his hands into various shapes, making animals and objects on the wall. Tim approaches, placing the tray of food on the table next to Jason’s bed.

“You’re doing shadow puppets on the wall…” Tim says slowly.
“Well, fuck you, I like a little whimsy.” Jason retorts.
“Fuck you!” Lian’s tiny voice calls out. Both Jason and Tim grimace. She grins evilly.
“Roy is going to kill me.” Jason groans, tilting his head back to lean against the pillows.
“Probably not until your ribs heal.” Tim reasons, reaching over to take Lian from Jason’s lap. “And by then, we’ll teach her much better words to verbally eviscerate her enemies, won’t we?” Tim teases fondly.
“Eviscerate!” Lian cheers. Tim laughs.
“I always knew you were gonna go supervillain, Tim. I just didn’t expect you to take my daughter as your protege.” Roy calls out from the doorway.
“Dad!” Lian exclaims, immediately squirming to escape Tim’s grasp. Tim carries her over, placing her into her father’s outstretched arms. Roy smiles in thanks.

“I thought you had a mission?” Jason asks from his bed, making a motion to sit up straighter. Tim walks over and helps him sit up, fluffing the pillows to better support his weight. Roy shakes his head. “Told’em I have a prior commitment.” Roy says wryly. He strokes the hair on Lian’s head.
“Tim already read me in.” Roy says, sitting on the edge of Jason’s bed. “He’s got a whole plan to keep your business functioning while you’re outta commission so don’t even think of trying to get out of bed rest even a day early.” Jason looks up to Tim thankfully. Tim elects to stare at his shoes instead. The dreaded feelings and emotions come across anyway. “Yeah, well, I got your back.” Tim mumbles.

Chapter Text

Tim has taken on the Red Hood persona while Jason recovers. He also adds himself to the childcare rotation for Lian. Tim even makes a few changes to Jason’s criminal empire. Mostly just coding and a few more connections in trading information on possible targets. But all of it makes Jason feel guilty.

Jason owes Tim. And not just for dealing with the giant cow destroying midtown.
He’s tried to apologize for the tower incident. But Tim told him to forget about it. Jason can’t forget about it. He has nightmares weekly about slicing his neck just a little too deep, and never being able to take that back. He remembers the sick squelching of Tim’s body as he beat him. The moans of pain. It’s the soundtrack to many of his night terrors. Jay has been teaching Jason some coping skills to help with the memories, but Jason still remembers. Forgetting is not an option.

He owes Tim for other things too. For bringing Bruce back, even if it means that Jason is forced to interact with their emotionally constipated buffoon of a father figure. For giving Dickiebird an out, allowing their brother to be his own man. Dick nearly drove himself into the grave when he took on everything in Bruce’s stead. Without Tim’s stubborn insistence that Bruce was still alive, Jason and Dick never would have had the chance to rebuild their relationship.

Jason also owes Tim for everything he’s doing now. Maintaining Red Hood, helping take care of Lian, supporting Roy, ensuring Jason has the best medical care available, and not mother henning the shit out of him. Dick would have driven Jason insane, unintentionally, but insane nonetheless. Bruce and Alfred would have dredged up way too many complex emotions that definitely would have delayed his ability to heal.

Instead, Tim has been helpful and to the point. He’s consulted Jason on any changes made to his system. All of which are surprisingly good ideas. Tim somehow found a way to streamline payroll and benefits for his hired guns, allowing for Jason to better allocate his funds to go back into the community.

All of these things are building up in Jason’s mind as he absent-mindedly pets Rosie. She’s been practically glued to Jason’s lap during his recovery, doing a very good job of keeping Jason from attempting to leave his bed against medical advice. Normally, being confined would make Jason nervous but her even consistent breathing, and comforting weight, grounds him in a way.
“Y’know if I could, I’d steal ya from Timmy.” Jason murmurs. Rosie tilts her head to the side in question. She gives Jason a soft whine and nudges her head back under Jason’s hand. “Okay, okay. I won’t snatch ya.” Jason agrees, scratching behind her ears. Her tail whips back and forth happily. Tim might be right about Rosie understanding English.

A knock on the doorframe draws Jason’s attention. It’s Tim. Jeez, this kid is painfully polite. “May I come in?” Tim asks, as if this isn’t a standard part of the daily routine that they’ve built. “No. Never!” Jason jokes. Tim cracks a small smile and approaches.
He sets the food down on the table, sitting to help situate Jason to eat his meal.
"So, how have things been going? Y'know with the whole villainy thing?" Jason asks. Tim rolls his eyes. "Fine. I've been keeping up your rep, don't worry."
Jason frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. "In what way?" Jason pushes.
"...I haven't killed anyone as Red Hood. If that's what you're asking." Tim replies evasive.

Jason purses his lips. He probably can’t wait the babybird out. Tim only shares stuff when he ends up cornered or if it’s relevant. Maybe Jason can steer Tim to share of his own volition. "You're good. Only kill if you gotta." He replies. Tim nods.
"Alright." Tim hands Jason his plate. "I'm not any more ‘good’ than you, though. Just so you know, I've taken lives. But I didn't have a code like you do." Tim says, staring at Jason's IV drip. Jason shifts uncomfortably, this is probably the closest they’ve ever gotten to talking about emotions.
"Whatcha tryin' to say baby bird?" Jason asks gently. Tim hates to talk about this kind of personal stuff, so Jason has to approach the topic cautiously. Tim heaves a sigh.
"I don't know. Just that like helping you out isn't gonna like corrupt me morally or whatever."

"Tim." Jason sighs. "Who put that thought in your head? Even I know that you're too stubborn to be corrupted by helping me out for a month or two."
Tim presses his lips into a thin white line.
"I just want you to know that you aren't a villain. You're my brother. You're a hero. You're fixing a part of Gotham that so many have tried and failed to fix for generations. Just...give yourself the credit you deserve, okay?" Tim stares at Jason with his piercing blue eyes. Jason’s chest warms, and he can feel his eyes beginning to tear up.
"You've built something to be proud of out of an incredibly difficult situation. You weren't handed it. You fought for it. I just... I look up to you for that." Tim admits.
Jason melts into his pillows, setting his plate aside with one hand. He grabs Tim with the other and pulls the younger man in for a hug. "Thank you, Tim. That means a lot." Jason whispers, voice hoarse.

His little brother looks up to him. Even knowing the worst things he has done. Tim has felt Jason’s anger firsthand, and looks up to him. Holy shit. The guilt that had been swirling in his brain for years shifts slightly, loosens.

Jason and Tim eat in silence. The only sounds are the beeping of the monitors and the comforting thump thump thump of Rosie’s tail. She looks with big brown eyes at Jason’s plate, wordlessly begging. Jason looks to Tim for permission. Tim calls Rosie off Jason’s bed and onto the tile floor. “Sit!” Tim commands. Rosie sits. Tim slowly sets down their plates, clear except for a few crumbs. He holds up a finger to tell her to wait.
“Okay!” Tim says, pointing the finger down at the plates. The speed at which Rosie licks every available crumb is truly impressive.

“Y’know Roy sent me a video of you being Red Hood?” Jason starts, teasing. Tim freezes. “What did you see?” He asks, tone low.
“Why? Is there something I should know about?” Jason asks, shifting to sit back against his pillows again. There are a few things he's heard from his men and Roy. Like how Tim has been disappearing rapists. Tim automatically adjusts his pillows, fluffing them to better support Jason’s weight. “Nothin’ to worry about. Just Ra’s causing trouble again. Pru has it handled.” Tim says lightly.
“Pru?” Jason asks. He vaguely recalls the name from his time with the league. But why would she be working with Tim? And what the fuck does Ra's want with Tim?
“Yeah I met her when I was looking for B. She worked for the league and defected to work for me.” Tim recalls, a fond smile on his face. “She’s a badass.”
Jason nods. Avoiding the topic of Ra's for now will be best. No way Tim is gonna delve into that right now. “Yeah I remember Pru. She got out of the league?”
Tim’s grin shifts from fond to proud. “Yeah! She’s strong like that.”
“And now she works for you?” Jason pushes again. Why does his little brother have a former assassin on his payroll? Why didn’t any of them know about this little arrangement? Tim nods mutely, picking up the now crumb-less plates from the floor.
“Yes. I pay better.” Tim states, evasive again.
“You pay better than an immortal assassin cult?” Jason tries to wrap his brain around the idea. “Yep.” Tim says, popping the p.
“I’d explain more but there’s really nothing much more to say. Besides, it’s time for Rosie’s afternoon walk.” Rosie begins stomping her feet excitedly at the word walk.
“Alright, but this conversation is not over.” Jason warns. Tim sends Jason a faux innocent look.
“Of course Jason! By the time I get back, Roy and Lian should be here by the way.” Tim calls as he leads the dog out of the room.

Jason lays back and sighs. He’s going to need to loop in Dick on whatever the hell is going on with their little brother. No way he knows about the assassin on the payroll and the very dramatic rendition of Red Hood running around disappearing rapists.
Thank goodness his phone is within reach.

Chapter Text

Jason has done a great job of dismantling a lot of the trafficking rings, especially the ones selling children. Tim does happen to recognize a few of the faces Jason has photographed as accessories to sex trafficking rings. If Tim happens to take them out, well, then he’s really just being helpful. Granted, most of the time, Tim doesn’t even have to have them killed. He just dismantles their lives, piece by piece, and they take themselves out. Technically, Tim’s hands are clean.

Tim finishes updating Jason on the progress he’s made with Red Hood’s list of identified targets when Jason frowns and leans back into his pillows.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“You being injured?” Tim asks. Jason smiles and tosses his crumpled napkin at Tim’s head. “No, ignoramus, being villain-adjacent.” Jason clarifies.
“So you admit you’re more bat than villain?” Tim teases.
Jason squawks indignantly. “I am not a bat!”
“You wear a red bat on your chest.” Tim points out.
“To piss Bruce off!” Jason sputters. “And dramatic effect!”
“You finished your revenge tour years ago, Jason.” Tim replies. “So?” Jason demands.
“So, you could’ve changed it at any point since. You haven’t. Face it, J. You’re one of us.” Tim teases. Jason swipes at Tim, but he easily dodges by backing out of reach.
“C’mere you little shit!” Jason laughs.
“Not a chance!” Tim chuckles.

Jason tries to reach for Tim again, but grimaces and clutches his side. Tim immediately grabs the suture kit and checks Jason’s dressings. “You only popped the one.” Tim murmurs, focusing on stopping the bleeding.
“Just fix it.” Jason grunts.
“Without lidocaine?” Tim checks. He knows Jason hates being medicated but being in pain like this is completely unnecessary.
“Yes.” Jason bites out through his clenched teeth. Tim does what his brother asks, ever dutiful. If Jason wants to be stupid and not get numbing for his stitch, then Tim won’t fight him on it. He tries to be gentle, though.

When he’s finished, Jason’s face is pale from the pain and his expression taut.
“You ever think about being less bat-adjacent?” Jason murmurs. Tim hums thoughtfully.
“Maybe. I don’t really see a role for myself beyond what I’m doing now. I hadn’t thought about going in a new direction.” Tim keeps his answer vague.
“And what, exactly, do you think your role is right now?” Jason asks, an undercurrent of anger in his words. Or maybe that’s the pain. Tim shrugs.
“I’m useful. I run the businesses that fund most of us. I play peacemaker and helper. I fill the gaps.” Tim explains, cleaning up the old dressing and setting out the materials to replace it. “I guess I always thought I’d either die or the gaps will fill themselves in and I’ll become irrelevant.” Tim sends Jason a mirthless smile. “Or get replaced.” He tacks on, teasing. Jason cracks up, grinning.
“Y’know none of that crap is true, right?” Jason says, nudging Tim as he secures the dressing in place. Tim shakes his head.
“Whatever you say Jason. Now, you need to rest. I need to rest. It’s dawn.” Tim insists, pushing Jason back into his pillows and dimming the lights.
“Night Tim.” Jason whispers, his body giving into it’s need for sleep.
“Night, Jay.” Tim says, tucking in the blanket.

Something about Jason’s words stick with him. Tim finds himself laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind whirs, unable to calm down enough to sleep. Tim groans and shifts restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position. He even tries counting sheep. Then he tries running through the names of all the cows at the Kent farm, including their newest temporary member, Big Bertha. Normally, the cows are enough of a distraction that his brain can disengage and he can sleep. But, tonight, no dice.

Eventually, Tim gives up and accepts that he’s not getting any sleep. Rosie, having positioned herself between Tim and her new favorite person, Jason, lays on the rug in the hallway. She wakes, groggy, as he walks past her to the kitchen. Tim starts fixing breakfast. Waffles from a box, microwavable bacon, and a cold glass of Zesti soon sit before him on the counter, ready to be eaten.

Tim eats his breakfast slowly, watching as the sun rise colors the grey landscape of Gotham City an array of oranges, yellows, purples, and pinks. It’s beautiful. Part of Tim wishes he could snap a picture of it, but he gave up his photography hobby long ago. There’s hardly anytime, anymore, for hobbies. Tim works his day job, running a multinational multi-billion dollar company, and arguing with the board and investors. Keeping up some semblance of a real life, walking Rosie and doing his own grocery shopping. Then Tim works his night job. He helps out the bats, or bat-adjacents. Sometimes he helps out a rogue or two. Tim might even take an off-world mission to help out one of his teammates from Young Justice. Then Tim crashes, getting what sleep he can, and does it all again.

It is exhausting. Tim feels it. He’ll break soon.

Adding on Jason’s responsibilities have not made the load any easier to carry. But at least the night work is fun. Tim gets to be dramatic. He can disappear or eliminate monstrous people. He even has a fun little set of rules he can use if there is ever any confusion.

Tim rests his chin in the heel of his hand, staring as the sunlight washes over the skyline. He just needs to hold on until Jason gets better, then he can rest. That’s all. That’s doable.

An abrupt noise from his phone shatters his peaceful morning. It vibrates against the counter, the screen indicating a call from a certain demon baby. Tim sighs, and answers. “What is this about a cow in Gotham? And why I am learning about said animal from Jonathan?” Damian demands. Tim groans, rubbing a hand over his face.
“A giant cow. Would not have fit in the manor.” Tim tries to explain, his brain sluggish with no sleep and very little caffeine from his zesti.
“Unacceptable reasoning, Timothy! I am still finding out from Jonathan and not my brother.” Damian insists. Jeez, how the hell does this kid have this much energy this early in the morning. Was Tim ever this energetic?
“I apologize, Damian. Next time there are animals in Gotham, I will call you. I just didn’t want to wake you before your practical exams.” Tim soothes. Silence greets him on the other end of the line.
“How did you know when my practicals were scheduled? I only told Dr. Thompkins.” Damian asks softly.
“I talked with her. When she was fixing Jason up.” Tim explains.
“Jason? Todd was hurt?” Damian asks. Tim groans. Aw shit. Now everyone in the manor is going to know within the day. And everyone will want to see Jason. Tim can’t manage everyone’s emotions today he has a board presentation to write.
“Fuck. Damian, just forget I said anything, okay?” Tim pleads, exhausted.
Damian hums ominously.
“I will not share this with anyone. Although I suspect Richard already knows. May I visit and check on him as a medical student?” Damian offers. It’s the nicest olive branch that Tim has received all year. “Let me ask him, okay? He may not want visitors.” Tim hedges. “Okay.” Damian accepts. Wow, Tim is not going to press his luck to figure out why Damian is so agreeable this morning.
“Bye, Dami. Love you.” Tim says.
“...Good bye, Timothy. I care for you as well.” Damian responds stiffly, then hangs up.

Chapter Text

Tim dons the red helmet and stalks slowly towards the large rolling door of the warehouse. Jason would probably make a crack about Robins and warehouses not going well together. Tim cannot help but feel a sense of unease, of being watched.
Tim enters, nodding silently to Jason’s men guarding the entrance and the door to the backroom.

Tim throws himself down in one of the twin leather chairs facing the desk and sits with his legs thrown over the arm. Relaxed, confident, unperturbed. Just like the Red Hood.
“So… we gonna sit here all night or ya gonna start yappin’?” Tim inquires nonchalantly.
“I want to hire you. We can take over all of Gotham." The man says, leaning forward. Tim doesn’t change his relaxed posture in his chair. His men, or rather Jason’s men, tense.
“I don’t work for others.” Tim replies bluntly. The man’s face twists in anger.
“Look, Hood.” He sneers. “You could work for me willingly or I can take over your territory and make you my bitch.”

Tim stands abruptly, tilting the chair so it clatters to the ground behind him.
“Be very careful who you threaten. You’re new to Gotham. So I’ll give you a brief education.” Tim growls out, the modulator making his tone frightening. “When I first started, I decapitated six of the most powerful lieutenants for the families in the city. Since that night, I have rebuilt Crime Alley. I have built an empire. I have earned their trust. If you start a war with me, the very streets will rise up to meet you.” Tim pauses, looming over the man. “Gothamites fight dirty, Mr. Jones. Would you like a demonstration?” Tim threatens. Jones shakes his head no. Smart man.
“Then I believe we’re done here.” Tim states, turning his back on the man.

“Boss!” One of Jason’s men calls out. Tim whips around just in time to see his man fall and the smoke waft off the gun in Jones’ hand. Tim shoots Jones in the shoulder immediately. As he groans on the ground, Tim takes out a knife and holds it to Jones’ throat. “You will regret that.” Tim swears. “Get him to Thompkins. Tell her I’ll pay double the cost if he lives.” Tim orders his men.
“But boss, you want us to leave ya here?” Another guard asks. Tim smiles under the helmet. “I can take care of this myself. You make sure that O’Malley gets to see his daughter’s christening. Got it?” Tim orders, not taking his eyes off Jones.
“Yes, boss.” His men murmur as they carry O’Malley out of the room.

“Now that it’s just you, me, and your men, anything last words?” Tim asks Jones. Jones pales. “Now you’re getting the picture!” Tim praises, dropping the knife from Jones’ throat. He kicks the creep in the crotch with his steel-toed boots. Tim places a solid kick to his ribs for good measure, breaking a few.
“Welcome to the city, Jones. Learn it before you think so highly of yourself that you could try to come in and run things. Back off my city, poser.”

Tim leaves Jones on the ground, gasping for breath and in incredible pain. He walks away from the warehouse, tossing a command over his shoulder to his men.
“Make sure Jones gets a full Gotham welcome, will ya.”
Tim makes his way back towards Park Row and begins his patrol of Crime Alley.

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About three hours into his patrol, Tim gains a shadow. He can feel whoever they are following him around, watching. That eerie feeling that raises the hair on the back of his neck makes a repeat appearance. There are a number of possibilities as to the cause. Someone with issues with Jason. Someone trying to fuck with Tim. It is pretty obvious when Red Hood shrinks at least six inches and loses about 70 pounds of muscle, that it may not be the same person under the shiny helmet. Or, at least, Tim thought it would be obvious. Apparently, Jones isn’t known for his keen powers of observation.

A dark figure drops down onto the concrete sidewalk in front of Tim, landing in a fluid posture. They stand. Tim readies his weapons.
“Hey Red, long time no see.” Nightwing greets, stepping forward into the light from the nearest lamppost. “Nightwing.” Tim grits out. He isn’t exactly happy to see his brother. As different as Bruce and Dick might be, both have issues with boundaries. Especially when it comes to Jason.
“Can we talk?” Nightwing asks. It seems Dick is taking the diplomatic route tonight.
“Meet me on the rooftop where we talked about my dad.” Tim offers the metaphorical olive branch. The rooftop is adjacent to Red Hood’s held territories. The conversation Tim and Dick had there, although years ago now, was memorable.
“Thanks.” Nightwing says, and grapples off.
Tim finishes his route of a few blocks, usually troublesome per Jason’s reports. Tim hasn’t had any trouble there so far, but he won’t risk letting his guard down.

Tim arrives on the roof and spies Nightwing sitting on the far edge, feet dangling.
“Greetings hero of Bludhaven!” Tim jokes. Dick doesn’t turn to face Tim. He stares ahead, unflinching. “Hey Red.” He greets. Tim gingerly eases himself down onto the crushed gravel of the rooftop nearby. He’s within Dick’s peripheral line of vision.
“Why didn’t you tell me my brother got injured?” Dick asks bluntly. Tim hums.
“I had several reasons. Primarily, he didn’t want me to and he’s an adult so he can tell you himself if he wants you to know.” Tim explains patiently. “Also, I was kinda busy with another set of daytime and nighttime jobs added to my overflowing plate.”

Dick repositions to face Tim, his brow furrowed. “Why you?”
Tim steels himself. The surprise and implications of Dick’s tone cut deep. But Tim won’t let it show. His job is to fill the gaps, grease the wheels, allow them all to function. Not to put his feelings above the good of the group.
“Because we’re just so close.” Tim deadpans. Dick raises a skeptic brow.
“Alright, probably because I was there and I offered. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Tim exclaims, flopping back to lay flat on the rooftop. He stares up at the polluted cloudy nighttime sky. Tim refuses to let Dick get him upset. His brother knows just how to push his buttons, even when Dick doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it.

“Is he okay?” Dick asks, quietly. Tim gets up to a standing position, dusting himself off.
“He will be. Had a tough night, has to take it easy for a while. Hence…” Tim gestures to himself in the red helmet. “So you’re going to fill in the whole time that he’s out?” Dick asks, head tilting. Tim sighs. “Yes.”
Dick frowns unapprovingly. Tim pretends it doesn’t bother him one bit.
“Who is taking over your patrol route?” He asks. Tim turns to walk around the edge of the rooftop, placing his feet to touch toe to heel with each step.
“I split it up amongst friends.” Tim responds. It’s technically an answer.
“Meta friends?” Dick pushes. Tim slides the knife from its hidden spot along his wrist and begins fidgeting with it as he walks. “Some.” Tim admits.
Dick sighs heavily. The disapproval weighs like an anvil on his soul. Tim makes sure to show no outward sign of it.
“Where is he?” Dick asks, standing.
Tim flips the knife in his hand nonchalantly. He walks the edge of the roof like a balance beam, back and forth. “Whatever could you mean, Nightwing?” Tim asks. Dick frowns. “Quit playing Red. You know what I want.”
Tim smiles and leans forward playfully. “Sorry, I’m afraid you’ll need to use your words.”
Dick groans in frustration. “Please let me visit the nest.” Dick bites out.
Tim shakes his head. “Not without his consent. We wouldn’t want any surprise visits from the bats now would we?”
“But -” Dick protests. Tim doesn’t stick around to hear the rest of his argument. Instead, he steps off the rooftop as grapples away.

****************************************************************************************************

Tim makes it through patrol without any additional interruptions. He does receive a message from Robin that a rendezvous will occur after patrol, per ‘Todd’s consent’. Tim reacts with a thumbs up to the message and wraps up for the night. He checks on Jason’s men one last time. O’Malley is stable, thanks to the truly gifted Dr. Thompkins. Tim makes a mental note to have Drake Industries and Wayne Enterprises make substantial donations to her clinic soon. Maybe Bruce can throw a stupid gala about it.

By the time Tim makes it back to his nest, Damian has arrived. There’s no car parked in the space Tim left open for him, which means Alfred probably dropped him off. Tim rides the elevator up to his nest, dusting off his leather jacket. The doors open and Tim is taken aback by the sight before him. Jason, splayed out on the couch in the living room, is covered in a pile of dogs. At least three. Rosie spots Tim but does not leave her post cuddling the injured man. Her tail does her normal thwap thwap thwap, so Tim knows that he hasn’t been completely replaced.

Damian, standing in the kitchen behind the living room, raises his head from whatever vegetable he’s chopping.
“Greetings, Timothy. I was just informing Todd here how sorry a state I found your refrigerator.” Damian snarks. Tim sighs, removing his domino and giving Rosie, Ace, and Goliath a quick greeting.
“Its usually better. I just haven’t had the time to hit up the grocery yet this week.” Tim defends. He is usually on top of things like this. Or he has Kon or Bart do it for him.
“Rosie needed to spend bonding time with her cousins, since you never bring her by the manor.” Damian pivots the subject.
“That Damian speak for ‘we miss you’? Or should I be concerned that you believe a pitbull and a demon dog could be related?” Tim teases. Rosie nudges Tim’s hand and he automatically moves to give her ear scritches. Damian gives Tim a soft tchh. Tim smiles.

“I gotta loop Jason in on something, you want to pop in some earbuds?” Tim requests. Damian scoffs but does what Tim suggests. Jason shifts to sit up more under the literal dogpile. “If this is about O’Malley, Leslie gave me a call.” Jason starts. Tim holds his hand up and makes a so-so gesture.
“It includes O’Malley, how he got shot. Some idiot newcomer named Jones wanted to meet. I went. He wanted to hire Red Hood to help him take over Gotham. I essentially told him where to stick it.” Tim explains, Jason’s face getting paler as Tim talks. “Then, as I was leaving, Jones tried to shoot me in the back. O’Malley saved my life. I gave Jones a Welcome to Gotham workover.” Jason sits, still. He’s processing. Tim waits.
“I’ll make sure O’Malley gets the full retirement package. Lifelong pension, medical coverage, the works.” Tim adds on. Jason nods, slowly.

“Dick called.” Jason says. Tim freezes. Rosie whines at Tim’s stopping of the scritches.
“What did he say?” Tim asks lightly, resuming his petting.
“He asked my consent to visit. I told him tomorrow.” Jason replies, warily. “He also mentioned something about asking why you took on Red Hood.”
Tim shoots Jason a look. He does not want to talk about this right now. Certainly not with Damian in the room. Tim has long since forgiven his brothers, but he doesn’t want to unpack why he’s the worst choice to take on Red Hood while his brothers mock him about it. Give it a week, maybe, and Tim will be ready to be the butt of a joke he’ll never be in on. “I was thinking, Tim. Maybe you’d want to make this a regular thing?” Jason offers. Tim is stunned. This is so not where he thought the conversation was going.
“What?” Tim asks. Jason sends Tim a small smile.
“You’re good at this. It’s clear you have the chops to hack it on your own. We both already have red in our names. I just thought about it. That’s all. I know you got your own thing going with Red Robin. I don’t want to step on your toes there.” Jason raises his hands placatingly. “Just think on it, alright?”
“Okay.” Tim agrees quietly, turning the idea over and over in his head.

Jason wants Tim to be his partner? Protege? Jason, who nearly killed him and still on occasion refers to Tim as his replacement. Who is this pod person and what have they done with his brother?

Tim waves to get Damian’s attention, letting him know that he can take the ear buds out.
“I see someone did not drive here tonight.” Tim inquires casually. He helps load ingredients into the large soup pot on the stove. Damian mumbles something unintelligible and sticks his head back into the fridge.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that Dami.” Tim says. Damian steps back from the fridge, closing it. “I didn’t pass my driver’s exam.” Damian mumbles.
“Don’t worry, Damian. It’s okay to fail.” Tim teases. Damian’s face twists in anger, and it looks like he might just choose violence, when Damian takes a deep breath. Seems like therapy is paying off. Huh. Maybe Tim could get some benefit from therapy, if the demon baby could. “Besides you graduated high school like three years early. You can’t be perfect at everything. It’d be unfair.”
“I have been driving since age ten, Drake!” Damian exclaims, chopping the onion on the cutting board viciously. “The test is poorly worded and obviously flawed.” He tacks on as he adds the onion to the soup pot. Tim hums thoughtfully.
“You’re probably right, Dami. Afterall, we’ve seen how the average Gothamite drives. I’d hardly consider that adequate.” Tim says, stirring the pot on the stove.
“Exactly!” Damian agrees. “That just means that they passed and you didn’t.” Jason points out from his spot on the couch. Damian’s face falls.
“Says the man who doesn’t have a driver’s license at all.” Tim counters, placing the lid on. “I’m legally dead, how the hell would I even get one?” Jason protests. Tim scoffs.
“Excuses, excuses. Tsk Tsk, Jason. You should set a better example for your younger brothers.” Tim teases, grinning. The corners of Damian’s lips quirk up slightly in what might be considered a smile. Tim will take it as a win.

Chapter Text

Dick knocks gently on the front door of Tim’s apartment. A melodic trill sounds as a soft light passes over Dick’s body. A happy chime accompanies the solid thunk of the door unlocking and slowly swinging open to allow Dick inside. He takes a quick scan of the room, looking for signs of how Tim is doing. It's Dick’s first time visiting the nest. Tim likes his space and required that Dick leave all his trackers at the manor before his visit this afternoon.

The living area is well kept. Clean, orderly, and neat. And totally unlike Tim at all. Since Dick met Tim as a pushy twelve year old, he's been witness to his brother's hurricane like presence. Tim, for all his strengths, gets caught up in life or a case and, usually, his living space suffers the unintended consequence.

But that is not the case with Tim’s nest. At least, the area that Dick can see.
“Jason?” Dick calls out, making sure the front door is locked behind him.
“Back here.” Jason calls distantly. Dick wanders down a hallway lined with framed photos of Tim’s friends. Dick recognizes Cassie, Kon, Bart, and a few others from Young Justice. He also sees several photos of Steph, Cass, and Duke. Photos that Dick has never seen before. There is also a photo of Damian, clearly asleep, cuddled into Dick’s side. Dick remembers that night. Tim wasn't there. So how did he get the photo? Or did he try to visit Dick in Bludhaven that night? And, upon seeing Damian there, chose to spend his time elsewhere? Dick chews his lips, thinking. “You get lost or something?” Jason yells, much closer this time. “Just appreciating Tim’s photography. I'll be there in a second little wing.” Dick responds, snapping a photo of the framed picture and texting it to Tim, asking for a copy.

Dick enters the medical wing of the nest and clocks the sheer amount of medical equipment available. “Wow, no wonder Tim brought you here. I think this place is better stocked than the cave.” Dick remarks. Jason sends Dick a wry smile.
“Don't you wonder why?” Dick takes a second look around. There's so much sterile equipment, plenty of IV supplies, and a case of meal replacement shakes tucked in a corner. “Did Tim get hurt?” He turns to Jason, worried. Jason half-shrugs.
“Don’t know. The kid ain't particularly chatty with me about that kinda thing. I was hoping that you'd know. You're much closer.”
“We were, once.” Dick laments, pulling up a stool to sit next to Jason’s bedside.
“I hope I haven't driven him away forever. But enough about my fucked relationships with my brothers. How have you been?” Dick flashes Jason a brilliant smile. Jason rolls his eyes at Dick. “Peachy.” Jason replies, sarcastic. “I'm bed bound except for bathroom and PT breaks. Tim is better at running my criminal empire after about two weeks than I am after years of figuring this shit out. Plus, I got nothing to do here except worry and wait for visits. The only plus is I get free cuddles any time I want.”

Rosie pops her head up at the words cuddles. Slowly, she scootches up the bed to within reach of both men. They both begin petting her immediately, the wagging of her tail thumping the bed.

“I'm worried about him.” Jason says quietly. “Did you know that he does like way too many jobs? And he immediately offers to help, despite being spread thin already, and never complains.”
“You think he's people pleasing?” Dick clarifies. Jason hums.
“I guess that's what he's doing. But it feels like it's closer to that self-sacrificing stuff.”
Dick nods. “I'll try to talk to him about it.”

Dick shifts on the stool, bringing both legs up in a modified form of criss-cross applesauce. “How are Roy and Lian?” He asks. Jason smiles softly.
“They're good. Lian’s pretty worried about me but she's handling it well enough. Roy keeps threatening me whenever I try to skip out on the whole required bed rest thing.”
Dick smiles. “Sounds like they love you, but we already knew that.” He teases. Jason's cheeks turn pink, blush spreading up to his ears. He mumbles something Dick misses. “Sorry, what was that Little Wing?”
“I said, we're thinking about marriage. Obviously, getting nearly crushed to death by a giant cow threw a wrench in our timeline. But when it does happen, I– I want you there, okay?” Jason buries his face into Rosie's fur. Dick beams.
“I wouldn't miss it for the world!” He promises.

***************************************************************************************************

Dick stays through the evening, cooking in Tim’s kitchen, feeding and taking Rosie on a walk. Tim does not make an appearance. Worried, Dick decides to check Tim’s bedroom. Dick knocks on the door, which creaks open at contact with his knuckles. Dick stands awkwardly in the doorway, weighing if he should enter and sate his curiosity or close the door and walk away. Torn, Dick looks down at Rosie, who has been glued to his side since they returned from their walk.
“What do you think, girl, should I walk away?” He asks. Rosie tilts her head up at Dick in confusion and nudges the door open further with her nose. She looks back at Dick and then enters, turning around and waiting for Dick to follow.
“Well, maybe Jason was right and you do understand English.” Dick says to himself under his breath, following the dog into Tim’s room.

The bedroom looks much more like a space that the Tim Dick knew would occupy. Papers, file folders, and spare hard drives are strewn across various surfaces. There is a mountain of laundry spilling out of his closet doors. Tim’s desk, neatly organized, is surrounded by cork boards and hand scribbled notes. Dick picks one up.
“Damian prefers to deflect from strong emotions. Show its safe by acknowledging your own.” Dick reads aloud. He picks up another. “Dick still loves you. He’s just busy.” Dick’s stomach drops, guilt squeezing his heart. The note is dated several years prior. How long has Tim felt like this?

“What are you doing in here?” Tim demands. He stands in the doorway, face a perfect mask. But Dick can hear the icy anger in his voice.
“Sorry, your dog let me in.” Dick tries to explain dumbly. Tim pushes past Dick, snatching the notes from his hand, and setting them down with his work bag on his desk. Rosie, the traitor, lays sweetly on Tim’s bed, snuggled into the blankets and snoring softly. “She likes to sleep in my bed, when I let her.” Tim says haltingly. “You decided that gave you permission to rummage through my room?”
“No! I wasn’t even going to come in but then she looked at me like she wanted me to follow and -” Tim stops Dick by sending his brother one of the most incredulous looks he has ever received.
“You broke my boundaries and now you’re blaming my dog? Seriously, Dick, act your age.” Tim says, sighing heavily and easing down onto the foot of his bed. “Just go.” Tim says. And he sounds so exhausted, so done, that Dick does. He pauses at the door to see Tim, head in his hands.
“I love you, Tim. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’ll respect your privacy better in the future.” Dick says, easing the door closed behind him. He will live up to his word. And now that he knows where the nest is, Dick will be making time for Tim to make sure his little brother never has to remind himself that he is loved again.

****************************************************************************************************

When Dick leaves, Tim changes into his pajamas, dropping like a stone into his bed. He groans as Rosie tucks herself into his side. “You’re trouble, aintcha?” Tim murmurs. Rosie looks at him with innocent eyes. Tim smiles softly. No way he could stay upset with her. She nudges him softly with her nose, tucking her head against his shoulder. Her familiar comfort lulls Tim, letting his mind drift off.

No patrol tonight. Roy is going to take a shift since Tim has been dutifully running carpool for Lian and her friends. Tim promised Roy that he didn’t owe him anything. Jason is family. Roy is Jason’s family. Which makes him Tim’s family. Lian even teasingly called Tim her “uncle” this morning during the drive to school. Tim blushed furiously and may have impulsively bought her the very expensive lego set that she had been eyeing while on his lunch break today. Tim should let Roy and Jason know not to buy it for her birthday. Or maybe he doesn’t need to worry about that, given her birthday is about six months away.

Rosie snores softly, grounding Tim as his mind whirs. Dick’s words ring in his ears again. He probably shouldn’t have been so harsh on Dick. But those notes are personal. His room is personal. Everything else in his life is shared with others. But not this.
Tim rolls over onto his side. Rosie snuggles in closer. By morning, she will have surely nudged him over the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

Chapter Text

Mercifully, Dr. Leslie has allowed Jason a modicum of freedom. He is now allowed to hobble slowly from the medical bay to the living room of the nest on his own. If he maintains his rate of recovery, he might even knock a few days off his required vacation from vigilante life.

Jason is currently draped across Tim’s, admittedly comfortable, couch. Tim brought home deli sandwiches, a gift from the owner who Tim saved from Sionis’s henchfolk a few nights back. Jason decides that he’s feeling well enough to push his luck.

“So I heard something the other day.” He starts, gauging Tim’s willingness to engage in conversation.
“Whaddya hear?” Tim asks, biting into his sandwich.
“I heard you tied a woman to some train tracks? You trying to make Red Hood into some sort of cartoon villain?” He asks. Tim sighs dramatically. He’s been doing that a lot more often lately.
“I did no such thing. It was a hologram, thank you very much.” Tim snarks, taking another, much larger, bite of his sandwich.
“A life-like enough hologram that I have Batman knocking on my damn door?!” Jason insists. Tim swallows his bite and rolls his eyes.
“Look, I coded the thing myself. It’s realistic. It had to be for it to work.” Tim explains. “I’m sorry that it brought Bruce to my door. I’ll get him to back off, I promise.”
Jason nods and offers Tim a napkin for the sauce dribbling down his chin.

“It was pretty funny to watch the security footage of Bruce trying to break in to talk to me. Was it your idea to zap intruders back down the hallway?” Jason asks, grinning. Tim smiles, ducking his head. “Bart’s idea.” He admits. Jason nods approvingly.
“Well done.” He lifts his soda in a mock toast. Tim lifts his as well. They clink the bottles together and take a sip.

They eat their meal together in companionable silence. Tim’s grown a lot in the years since Jason first tried to kill him in Titain’s Tower. But the sweet kid who determinedly persisted, despite a truly horrific few years of losing nearly everyone he loved, is still in there somewhere. Jason watches as he devours his sandwich like he hasn’t eaten in days. He can see the weight his little brother carries on his shoulders. Jason narrows his eyes as Tim heads over to the kitchen to snag another zesti from the fridge.
Before he can interrogate Tim, a loud pounding knock on the door demands their attention.

“Timothy Jackson Drake!” A woman’s voice yells from the other side of the door. Jason watches as Tim nearly drops his bottle of zesti in a panic. “Steph?” He calls. The pounding on the door stops for a moment and then resumes.
“It’s me ya bozo. Lemme in!” She calls. Tim cracks open the bottle of soda and walks, resigned, towards the door. He undoes nearly a dozen locks and a security bar before easing it open. “Yes?” The little shit asks, blocking her entry. Steph shoves her shoulder into Tim’s chest, knocking him aside. “Jason!” She calls cheerfully. Tim grumbles but recovers and closes the door, locking it securely.
“I just had to check on ya. Is it true that you nearly got got by a cow?” Steph grins. Jason looks between Steph and Tim. “Did you forget to include the little detail that the cow was the size of a fucking apartment building?” He asks. Tim shrugs, breaking into a shit eating grin. “Maybe. I dunno. Been busy.” Tim says as he collects their plates and takes them to the kitchen.

Steph takes Tim’s chair, kicking her legs over the arm. “I hear Timmy has been running around in your helmet. How do we feel about this?” She teases. Jason smiles.
“Kid’s been doing a great job actually. I may have to recruit him full time.” Dishes clatter in the sink as Tim loses his grip on one of the plates.
“But you can’t! Cass and I have dibs!” Steph gasps, clutching at her metaphorical pearls. “Actually, I have a pact with the core four.” Tim calls from the kitchen. “They technically have dibs.” Steph huffs, crossing her arms.
“I cannot believe that Tim would choose his friends over his siblings. There’s no loyalty anymore.” She says sarcastically. Jason shakes his head.
“Can I pick your brain about somethin’?” He asks. Steph sits up slightly. “Shoot.”
“I was wondering, since you helped plan your mom’s wedding, if you’d be willing to help me and Roy out? We’d pay well.” Jason says. Steph sits upright, placing both feet back on the ground. “Are you asking me to help plan your wedding?” She asks, tone deadly serious. Jason nods. Steph shoots out of her seat and whoops.
“I’m gonna run that shit like the navy. You guys won’t have to worry about anything!” She says excitedly. Steph hugs him tightly before remembering his injuries. Jason laughs it off and they start to discuss dates, colors, and guest lists.

****************************************************************************************************

Spoiler joins Red Hood on patrol the next night. It’s fairly quiet, due to the acid rain falling all around them. Tim and Steph haven’t patrolled this part of Gotham together since his Robin days. But soon they fall into a familiar rhythm.

After a few blocks, they start chatting. Commenting on the weather, asking about her classes at Gotham U, checking in on things with her and Cass.
“Y’know, if you need, we can help out. Take turns.” Steph offers, gesturing at the red helmet on Tim’s head. Tim takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly.
“Thanks, but I can handle it.” Tim states. Steph shoots him an odd look from under the edge of her purple hood. “Didn’t say you couldn’t, Red. Just wanted to offer.” She says evenly. Tim pushes down the swirl of emotions tying his stomach into knots.
“Black Bat has been worried about you. Misses you.” Steph says, turning the corner on the sidewalk but shooting a look over her shoulder at Tim. Tim follows, a half step behind.

Suddenly, a force slams into Tim, shoving him in the chest. Tim, laying flat on his back on the ground, looks up to see his sister perched on his chest. “Black Bat.” He wheezes. She nods, stepping off of him and to the side. “Time to visit my big brother.” Cass says, no room for argument. Tim looks around. He and Steph hadn’t run into anyone nefarious tonight. And his leather jacket is getting damaged the longer they stay out here. “Alright. I guess we’ll go ambush him.” Tim agrees. Steph cheers and although Tim can’t see Cass’ face, he can tell she’s grinning.

****************************************************************************************************

They come back to Tim’s nest to find Jason playing cards with Duke on the couch in the living room. “You look like hell froze over.” Duke says in place of a greeting.
Tim frowns, heading straight back to his room to change and decontaminate.

He returns, freshly showered, to see the girls have been dealt into the game.
“Since when did the front door become a revolving door?” Tim asks, only half kidding. Jason rolls his eyes. “Since I said they could all be here. Unless you want me to recover elsewhere?” Tim bites back a retort.
He is getting a little frustrated. This is the longest he’s ever lived with Jason, and while they get along most of the time, he’s still Tim’s brother. And brothers push his buttons like no one else can. “Don’t worry, Jason. Tim is probably just tense since Kon hasn’t been able to visit while you’ve been staying here.” Duke teases. Tim turns beet red.
“Anyone want a drink?” Tim asks, changing the subject. He heads over to the kitchen and begins fixing himself a whiskey sour with the bottle he hides on top of the cabinets. “I don’t drink.” Jason replies, winning a hand. Duke and Cass groan disappointedly. Steph sighs and stands up, heading over to Tim. “Can we talk?” She whispers quietly. Tim tilts his head in the direction of his room.

When they get there, drink in Tim’s hand, Steph whirls on him.
“What’s this about just ‘filling the gaps’?” She demands. Tim takes a deep breath.
“Jason tell you that? Ah jeez. Look, Steph, I just - I know my role, okay?”
“Your role? Your fucking role?” She whispers, furious. Tim shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. “What do you want me to say?” He asks tiredly.
“I want you to say that you see yourself as more than a tool to be used, Tim.”
Steph insists. “You’re a lot more than that and it really worries me that you think of yourself that way.” Tim sighs, sitting down in his desk chair.
“I can say that.” Tim replies. Steph shakes her head and grabs Tim by the shoulders.
“I don’t want to just hear you say it, Tim. I want you to know it. To believe it.”
Tim smiles at her sadly. “I can’t promise that, Steph. You know I can’t.” Tim swallows around the lump in his throat. He takes another sip of his drink, wishing the alcohol could numb him. She sighs, letting her hands fall to her sides.
“At least come hang with us? Duke and Cass miss you.” She requests. Tim looks up, hearing the commotion of Jason winning another hand and being accused of cheating. He smiles to himself.
“Alright.” He agrees, “I’ll try.”

Chapter Text

Jason watches as the video on Duke’s phone plays, showing Red Hood taking on Two Face. Dealing with a screeching Two Face, to be exact. The audio peaks and the speaker on Duke’s phone crackles as the rogue screams something vaguely intelligible. “Do you even have an indoor voice?” Tim snarks, voice modded by the helmet. Two Face sputters and turns to face Tim. “What?”
“Do. You. Have. An Indoor voice?” Tim repeats slowly. Two Face scoffs. “Yes?”
“Then use it!” Tim instructs, indignant. Tim, as Red Hood, then takes out all twenty of Two Face’s men with a mix of martial art styles that Jason mostly recognizes. Duke lowers his phone as the video ends.

“See what I mean?” Duke says, concern lacing the words. Jason nods, thinking.
“I think he’s coming back!” Cass calls from the doorway. They each scramble back into their respective seats and pick up their cards. “You cheated!” Duke accuses. Cass shakes her head disappointedly. “My brother, a cheat and a scoundrel.” She laments. Jason squawks indignantly. “I did no such thing! You impugn my honor!”
Tim rolls his eyes and perches on the arm of the couch like an anemic gargoyle.

“What are you playing?” Tim asks quietly. The drink he had run off with sits idly on a side table, half drunk. “Poker.” “Spades.” “Euchre.” Everyone says at once. Jason cackles. “This is why you’re all losing! You don’t even know what we’re playing.” He teases. The card game has been a farce since the beginning, just something to look busy while Jason gets updates about Tim from his spies (siblings).
“How about a redeal and we can all start over, hmmm?” Jason offers.
“I’ll deal. If we play poker, I’ll just count the cards and massacre you all.” Duke says. Jason gathers the deck and hands it off to his little brother. Duke has been a surprising ally in Jason’s mission to ensure Tim’s well-being. He loves his siblings a lot, Jason’s never doubted that about Duke. But his aptitude for subterfuge has been an unexpected and welcome benefit. Maybe he can recruit Signal to join their bat villain adjacent work too.

****************************************************************************************************

Tim’s siblings only continue to extend their time in his nest. Growing like a lichen, each of them crash there after patrol, or after classes. Some of his siblings have decided to stress clean or bake too. It's probably the first time the oven has been used since Tim moved in nearly two years ago.

Duke and Steph are now regular presences on his couch on any given weekday. “Your place is just closer and I don't want to go back to mine after class.” Both of them insist. Tim did the math. The nest is closer than the manor but definitely further than either of their apartments.

Damian comes by on Saturdays to take Rosie to the dog park.
“You must properly socialize her, Timothy. Otherwise she may become withdrawn and anxious.” Tim lets him.

Dick even stops by on Sundays, they do brunch, bringing something back for Jason.

Cass reserves Thursday evenings to share her latest dance routines or spar. It's great to get regular exercise that isn't cape related. She keeps Tim on his toes, switching up her styles constantly.

Eventually, Roy and Lian start making their way to the nest so often that Tim just offers them their rooms permanently. Roy tried to decline but Lian bullied him into it.

Kon, Bart, and Cassie still drop by regularly. The other members of YJ are more intermittent with their visits.

Tim liked his quiet peaceful life. His home has become so filled to the brim with the people he loves, he cannot possibly begrudge the change.

Jason is let off of bed rest early but still has to work back up to his previous
normal. Tonight, to christen their new place, Lian has insisted on having a Barbie animated movie marathon. She was shocked when Tim said that he doesn't have a favorite. He couldn't tell her that he hadn't seen any of them before.

So here they all sit in Tim’s living room. Kon, Tim, Roy, Jason, and Lian. With bowls of snacks, sugary drinks, and a plan to watch at least a dozen animated films. Or however many they could get in before Lian falls asleep.

Kon, who has actually seen a few of these movies, fills Tim in on the basic plots and characters. Tim has decided that he actually doesn’t mind Bibble too much once the character appears. Lian apparently dislikes him vehemently, insisting that her dad fast forward through the character’s time on screen. So maybe Tim’s sample size is skewed.

Tim tries to keep his eyes open through Barbie and the Three Musketeers, really he does. But he’s spent the last three nights awake and trying to solve a case involving Black Mask. And Kon, being the half-kryptonian space heater that he is, is a temptingly comfortable pillow. Slowly, Tim nods off. He dreams of Bibble and fairy wings. A talking elephant and purple Pegasus. And of his family. His real family. The ones that choose to stay. That goes out of their way to spend time with him. To find Tim when he retreats to the comfort of his nest while he’s hyper focused or overwhelmed. They don’t leave him like his parents did. For the first time in a very long time, Tim sleeps well.

****************************************************************************************************

The next night, Tim cracks the Black Mask case. Locating an abandoned building that Sionisis’ men have been using as a home base.

Tim stands in front of the two men, as they are bound to chairs in front of them, drawing out the tension, stoking their fear.

“Not feeling chatty?” He growls out, voice modulator adding another layer of unnerving tone. Both men clench their jaws shut. Tim has to give it to Sionis. He’s a piece a shit but his men are loyal.

Tim signals Jason’s men and the punches rain down. After a minute or two, Tim calls them off. Still silent, he walks around the two, circling them.
“Tell me where the kids are, and I’ll let you live.” He offers. One of the men glances nervously at the other. “Oh? Don’t want any witnesses? An easy fix.”
Tim drags out the stoic man by the back of his chair. “Don’t give in, Steve!” He yells as Tim removes him into the hall.
“I’m gonna have a little chat with Steve while you speak with John. But don’t worry. John will be very gentle as he removes your nails one by one.” Tim assures. The stoic man whips his head around to walk as John, more anthropomorphic mountain than man, comes to collect his subject. “Enjoy!” Tim says, heading back to speak with Steve. Tim can hear the other man’s desperate pleas as the door closes, preventing sound from traveling in or out once more.

“So, Steve, is it?” Tim asks, sitting down in front of his target. The man looks around wildly. “Whaddya do with Marcus?” He asks. Tim hums, picking at the non-existent dirt on his leather gloves.
“Introduced him to a friend of mine. They’ll be real close after this. John has a real knack for getting to know folks quickly.”
Steve worries his lip. “Will he be okay?” He asks. A strange bit of empathy from men in charge of child trafficking. “Why do you ask?” Tim evades.
“Because we -” Steve cuts himself off. Warily, he peers around at the room. There’s no cameras, no microphones. Tim doesn’t need them. And scrubbing the footage would only add an extra step to covering up their deaths. “Can you keep a secret?” Steve asks. Tim grins. “Yes.” He lies.
“Sionis wants Marcus disappeared. I was ‘posed to take care of him tonight but he’s working to try to get his kid back. I can’t do that to him or the kid.” Steve admits. Tim cocks his head to the side. “But you’re fine selling other peoples’ kids?”
Steve shares down at his feet. “They’re orphans. Who's gonna notice?” Steve replies.
“Notice?” Tim spits out, livid. “You think the problem with trafficking kids is somebody around to fucking notice?” He demands.
Steve sneaks a peak at the door, like he’s expecting Marcus to bust in and save him. “Steve!” Tim snaps. Steve turns his head to look at Tim slowly.
“I am only going to ask this once more before I kill you both. Where are the kids?”
Steve screws up his face in anger. “Why should I tell you? You’re gonna kill us anyway!”
“Because, Steve, there are quick ways to die and long slow ones. Which would you prefer? I can always send you piece by piece to your wife at 5523 Cherry Lane. What’s her name again? Cheryl?” Tim explains impatiently. Steve’s face pales. “How’d ya know that?”
“Because, Steve, I know what goes on in my city. It’s my business to know. Just like I know that your ex-wife took the kids, Mikey and Caitlin, when she left. That you haven’t bothered to see them since.” Tim bites out, grinding his teeth to hold himself back from beating the shit out of this loser. “Just don’t hurt my family!” Steve pleads.
Tim can feel a demented giggle bubble up in his chest. It takes everything in him to stifle it.
“The children, now. I’m not asking, Steve.” Tim demands, a bottle of acid at the ready.
“B-by the docks!” Steve stutters out. Tim grins, giggling. He punches Steve, over and over. Everything turns to a red haze until Jason’s men pull him away from the butchered man tied to the chair. He’s still breathing, Tim knows that much. But how survivable the injuries are, that is anyone’s guess.

“Boss, you okay?” O’Malley asks. Tim gently places a hand, enveloped in a blood soaked glove, on his shoulder.
“Get the kids. Make sure they don’t go back into the system. I gotta go.” Tim orders.
O’Malley nods and shouts to the others. “You heard the boss, move it!”
Tim stumbles out of the room and locks himself in a back office. He rips off his helmet just in time to release a true JJ cackle. A laugh he hasn’t heard out of himself in years. His throat burns with bile as Tim pukes into a trash can between bursts of laughter. He sits there, on the cold concrete floor until the episode subsides. Cold sweat drying in his hair and on his face. Bone tired, Tim tries to stand on shaky legs.
“Kon,” Tim whispers, voice hoarse. “I need a ride home.”
A sonic boom shakes the building and Kon stands before Tim, close but not touching.
Tim is wearing another man’s blood. Another man’s uniform. He turns and dry heaves into the trash can.
“Oh!” Kon soothes, reaching out with his TTK first. An invisible hand rubs small circles between Tim’s shoulder blades. “Take me home, please.” Tim asks.

Kon scoops Tim up, bridal style, and flies him back to the nest. He lands them on the roof, ushering Tim down the stairwell and into the private elevator.
“I hate to leave but I was mid-battle and Kara is calling for me.” Kon says as the doors open into Tim’s nest. “Are you gonna be okay?” Tim nods, silent. Kon sweeps him up into a quick tight hug before he floats back into the elevator.
“I love you.” Kon says.
Tim sends him a soft smile. “I love you too, Kon. Thank you.”
“Always.” Kon says as the doors close. Tim stands still, listening for the boom as Kon flies off. When he hears it, Tim makes his body move again.
He walks, shakily, towards the guest room he made up for Jason. Roy is out tonight, helping Dick with something, so it should just be Jason.

Tim slowly staggers down the hallway, pushing open the bedroom door.
“Jason.” Tim says, tone urgent. Jason peels his eyes open slowly.
“This better be important to wake me up at the ass crack of dawn.” Jason grumbles. Tim’s face must show how scared and off he feels because Jason bolts upright in bed in concern.
“Alright, spill baby bird.” He orders.
Tim wrings his hands and perches on the edge of Jason’s bed.
“How do you know when you’ve crossed the line?” Tim asks softly.
“Do I need to clean up a body?” Jason asks seriously. Tim scoffs.
“I know how to clean up a body, Jason. Answer my question.” Tim says exasperated, grimacing reflexively at his choice of words.
“You interrogate people tonight?” Jason surmises. Tim shoots a questioning look at Jason.
“I too was raised by the great bat detective, Tim.” Jason says. “You’re not the only one who can make leaps in logic.”

Tim fidgets with the edge of Jason’s blanket now, running his fingers along the seam over and over. The blood from his gloves, almost dry now, leaves behind small red lines on the fabric.
“How do you know when you go too far?” He asks, voice small.
“Explain.” Jason requests gently. Tim looks around the room, checking for anyone who could overhear.
“I interrogated some of Sionis’ men tonight. Cracked that kid trafficking case.” Tim begins, voice wobbly. “But I got angry, real angry. They had to pull me off of him, Jason. And then, then I laughed.” Tim admits, distraught.
“Why do you think this time set you off, in comparison to any other?” He asks.

Tim tries to think through it carefully. His other kills have usually been from a distance, or in the course of defending himself or others during a mission.
“He was tied up.” Tim suggests. Jason looks to be thinking this over with great seriousness. No jokes. No complaints. Hardly any nicknames.
“Did you laugh or did JJ?” Jason asks. Tim chews his bottom lip.
“I felt it. Like boiling up inside of me. I haven’t had an episode that bad since…” Tim doesn’t finish his sentence. Jason knows the basic facts of the JJ situation. He’s only seen Tim have an episode once. But once is enough when you sound like the clown.

“I wish I had killed the bastard for you, for me, for all of us.” Jason whispers.
“I did.” Tim whispers back.
“What do you mean?” Jason asks, eyes widening.
“I killed him. Last time he broke out of Arkham. Made sure he stayed dead. That’s why he hasn’t caused any trouble.” Tim states, staring Jason in the eye.
Jason looks shocked and sad and angry. Tim shrinks in on himself. Jason takes a deep steadying breath, calming his expression.
“I’m sorry you had to bear that burden, Tim.” He says after a while. No trace of green in his eyes now. Not like that night at the tower. Tim unfurls a little.
“You asked about the line, right?” Jason says, sighing. Tim is grateful for the change in topic. “I’m afraid that’s something you have to decide for yourself. What works for me might not work for you.”
Tim nods, standing. “Okay. Thank you, Jason.” He has his answer, now time to leave. Jason needs to sleep. To heal. Tim is just getting in the way.

Jason looks like he’s about to reach out to Tim, for what Tim doesn’t know, but thinks better of it. “You in therapy?” He asks. Tim shakes his head no.
“Consider it. Especially if you’re taking lives. Please?” Jason requests. Tim thinks this might have been the first time he’s heard Jason use the word please when it’s just him and Tim.
“I’ll think ‘bout it.” Tim compromises. Jason nods, wading up his top blanket to go put in the wash.
“Good. Now go shower, you look like an onstage extra from the prom scene in Carrie.” Jason orders.
Tim mocks salutes and is comforted by the sound of Jason’s surprised guffaw following him down the hallway.

Chapter Text

Kon returns early the next morning under the guise of checking up on Tim, but he brings a duffle and effectively moves in. Tim doesn’t mind. His best friend and partner basically living in his place comes with many benefits. Kon cooks and bakes. He and Tim get to spend a bunch of time together (thank you Tam for clearing his schedule massively).

Kon, thankfully, hasn’t pushed Tim to talk about what happened that night in the office. Tim did ask Kon for the contact information of the therapist that he’s been seeing since he came back from the dead. Tim hasn’t met with her yet, but he did fill out all the paperwork. So that has to count for something. 

Damian is getting a cooking lesson from Jason in the kitchen while Duke and Steph chill in the living room doing their homework. Dick and Barbara are coming over later to help Roy with some non-hero related crisis. Tim is pretty sure that they are strategizing how to stage a coup of the PTA at Lian’s school. Cass is sleeping in one of the guest rooms. Everything should be fine.

But, as Tim stands in the hallway, idly petting Rosie, a deep sense of doom settles over him. Everything is fine. There is nothing to fix. So why is Tim here? Why haven’t they gotten tired of him yet?

Kon must sense Tim’s fear, or maybe he just hears his heart rate increase, because he shoots Tim a concerned look. Tim turns on his heel and heads back to his room. He snags a bag out from the back of his closet, a go bag he keeps ready. It’s contents include several fake identities, everything he needs to disappear right now. Tim stares at the bag as it sits on the foot of his bed, tempting him. He could dip right now. Kon would notice, but follow, not enlist the others. Tim could probably convince Kon to disappear with him. Maybe Cassie and Bart too. But then what? Tim can’t leave behind Rosie and there is no way the demon brat hasn’t already put trackers all over her and her things.

Kon cracks open the door to their room wordlessly. He sees the go bag on the bed. He sees Tim looking at the go bag on the bed. Tim knows that Kon knows. But there’s no judgement, no yelling. Instead, Kon slips inside the room and shuts the door behind himself.

“Hey, you okay?” Kon asks quietly. Tim groans, sitting down next to the bag.
“I wish everyone would stop asking me that, I never have an answer that they want to hear.” Kon hums and sits down next to Tim.

A small curl of his TTK absent-mindedly slips into the curve of Tim’s waist, just resting lightly. Tim sits there, comfortably, letting his mind wander.
“Where are we going?” Kon asks after a while. Tim looks at him, startled back to reality. “I don’t know. Maybe nowhere.” He admits. Kon smiles softly.
“Why do you want to leave?” Kon nudges. Again, there’s no anger, no judgement. It makes it terribly difficult for Tim to deflect. Which leaves discussions of feelings. Ew.
“Everything is fine.” Tim starts. “Nothing needs fixing. And that’s what I am here for, to fill the gap. To be a fix. If there’s no need for me, then why stay?” Kon snakes an arm around Tim’s shoulder.

“You wanna leave them before they can leave you?” Kon asks, even though he already knows Tim’s answer. Curse his boyfriend for being all perceptive and emotionally mature.

“Maybe I just wanna go looking for trouble.” Tim hedges. Kon smiles crookedly.
“You’re in Gotham. Trouble finds you.” He quotes back to Tim, dramatic brooding voice and all. It’s one of the first things he said to Kon during a YJ mission in the city years ago. Before everyone died. Before everyone, besides his parents, left him.
“God I was so dramatic!” Tim recalls, chuckling.
“Were?” Kon replies, squeezing Tim closer.
“Okay, fine. I am dramatic. But I was worse back then.” Tim argues, determined to win, even if it’s pointless. Kon chuckles and drops a quick kiss on Tim’s forehead.
“Whatever you say, sunshine. Now, are we fleeing the country tonight or can I eat some of those crepes your brothers are making?”
Tim sighs, wrapping his arms around Kon’s middle. “We’re staying. Just hold me for a while, yeah?” Tim asks, feeling suddenly very vulnerable.
“Always, love.” Kon promises. Tim tries to make his brain believe it.

Eventually Cass comes to fetch them for dinner. She notices the go bag on Tim’s bed, and Kon holding Tim. She tilts her head silently in question and Tim waves her off, signing later. She nods.
“Dinner. Mandatory. Also, Bruce wants your permission to visit. Jason says it’s okay with him, by the way.” Tim and Kon both groan.
“Five more minutes, please!” Kon does his best puppy dog eyes. Cass narrows hers in response and both boys are up and standing at the door within seconds.
“I have you both so well trained.” She observes as she passes them both in the hallway, twirling towards the kitchen. Tim sighs and follows his sister down the hall. Crepes for dinner it is.

****************************************************************************************************

Ultimately, because Jason gave the okay, Tim has to allow Bruce and Alfred to visit. He tries a myriad of excuses but, eventually, even Tim can’t postpone the inevitable.
Both men spend every second of time observing as much as they can about the nest, like Tim won’t let them back here again. He does contemplate just moving. Maybe he could learn to like Kansas, even if Kon says it “lacks sufficient scenery for brooding.”
At least the men aren’t snooping around in his stuff. Although, Tim is 1000% certain that if he left Bruce alone for even a minute, then he would come back to his pseudo father figure sticking his nose somewhere it shouldn’t be.

“You have a lovely home, Master Tim.” Alfred compliments politely. Tim looks around at the crowded surfaces, the stacks of Lian’s toys in the corner, the forgotten cups and plates strewn about, and the messy kitchen counters from last night’s spaghetti fiasco. “Thanks, Alfred.” Tim returns politely. He catches Bruce staring at the books on the shelves by the hall leading further into the home.
“Isn’t it much more pleasant when you’ve been invited in, instead of trying to break in?” Tim says evenly as if they were discussing the weather. Bruce grimaces. Tim can feel Alfred’s disapproving glare from behind them, grateful that it is now directed at Bruce.
“I was testing your security.” Bruce grumbles, half-heartedly.

Tim nods, pulling a detective novel off the shelf. It is the book that Bruce had gifted Tim instead of apologizing for the sixteenth birthday incident. Tim used to reread it a lot when he was younger, looking for some double meaning, something that meant Bruce was sorry. He hasn’t picked it up in years.

“Wanna crack it open and guess how it ends?” Tim offers. Bruce shakes his head.
“I know how it ends.” He whispers. Alfred has retreated to the kitchen, and begins cleaning. Tim sighs, knowing that any protest he could lodge would be in vain.
“Is there anything else you wanted to see while you’re here? I’d offer to give you the grand tour but it’s really just this entryway and rooms off this hallway.” Tim says. Bruce hums thoughtfully.
“I’d like to see whatever you’d like to show me, chum.” He replies quietly. Tim studies the older man for a moment, calculating the risks of letting him in again.
“I have a few WE forms that need your approval on my desk. Why don’t we knock those out while you’re here?” Tim offers. Bruce nods.

Together they walk down the hallway. Bruce stops frequently, seemingly mesmerized by the various photos on the wall. Tim bites back a sarcastic comment along the lines of “why yes Bruce, I do have friends.”

They make it to Tim’s room eventually, despite the lingering detour in the medbay where Bruce kept touching things that will need to be resterilized. Once they enter his room, Bruce sits himself down at Tim’s desk to sort through the paperwork, only occasionally asking a question here and there. Tim is left to awkwardly hover over Bruce’s shoulder the whole time.

“Do you want to be CEO and president of the board, Tim?” Bruce asks, startling Tim out of his zoning out planning of his next date with Kon. “What?” He asks.
“Do you want this?” Bruce repeats.
“Bruce, I’ve been CEO and President of the Board since I was sixteen when you went missing. It’s not really about what I want, it’s about what WE needed.” Tim explains.
“I know that is what you felt you needed to do, Tim. And I appreciate it. But I am asking if that is what you want to do.” Bruce states calmly. “You’re twenty three years old, Tim. You should be finishing college or making mistakes or spending time with your friends. You should be able to do what you want.”
Tim sputters. “What I want doesn’t matter!”
“It does to me.” Bruce insists quietly. Tim feels his whole worldview come to a crashing halt. “What?” He asks.

Bruce gestures for Tim to sit. Tim flops onto his bed dramatically. Maybe he’s fed into more of that impulse as Red Hood lately but given that freaking Batman is telling Tim that he’s allowed to prioritize himself, he’s earned some melodramatic choices.

“Tim, sweetheart, I love you and I want you to be happy.” Bruce starts. Tim stares at his adoptive father like he’s grown another head.
“I know I haven’t shown it well. But I want you to go after what you want. To be yourself. To be happy and safe.”
Tim shifts so that he is staring at his ceiling. This is not a conversation he can have looking Bruce in the eye.
“I know that, like intellectually.” Tim admits. “But a part of my brain won’t believe it.”

Bruce takes a deep breath and blows it out evenly. “I’m sorry that I haven’t shown it in a way for your brain to trust it. I will keep trying to do that better. As long as you let me in.”
Tim sighs. Does he want to let Bruce in? To let his brothers and sisters in on just how exhausted he is? On the fact that he’s struggling?

“I -” Tim begins, cutting himself off. Every fiber of his being is telling him not to say anything. To carry the burden silently. To never show weakness. The voice in the back of his brain sounds a lot like his parents. Tim steels himself to admit to Bruce what he can barely admit to himself.
“I think I… I try to fix everything for everyone because, well, no one gets rid of the guy who’s helpful. As long as I’m useful or needed, my presence is wanted. But - I just, I’m not happy with that. I… I want more.”
Bruce nods silently. When Tim doesn’t continue, Bruce replies.
“You are wanted. We love you. That is not dependent on what you can do for us.” He says matter-of-factly. Tim frowns.
“You can’t just say that! It - It doesn’t feel true.” Tim insists. Bruce frowns and furrows his brows.

“How about I just speak for myself, then?” He offers placatingly. Tim nods minutely.
“I love you. I want you in my life. I want you there because knowing you has made my life more full and worth living.” Bruce states, tone again like the statements are facts, not opinions. Tim swallows the lump forming in his throat. He has to ask.
“I’m not a burden?” Tim asks, voice small. Bruce’s face twists in hurt and he throws his arms around Tim. “You are not a burden. You could never be a burden. You’re my son.” Bruce whispers tearfully. Tim feels a few tears of his own slide down his face.
“Thanks, Dad.”

Chapter Text

Jason's return as Red Hood is quiet. Tim just hands back the helmet with little fanfare. But Jason’s men don't act much differently than before.

"We thought you'd been hit by some sorta spell or somethin'." One of the men says. "But then this real scary laugh came out when ya nearly beat a guy to death with your bare hands and we knew there was someone else under da helmet."
Jason nods slowly, pondering his response.
"And how'd he treat ya?" He asks. Several of the hench folk look surprised at the direction of the conversation. Jason surprised himself too, a bit. Less territorial than he thought he'd be with the replacement running around as him.
"He was good, boss. Upped the benefits. Got my kid into that nice school we've been tryin' for years to get inta." Jason purses his lips. Timberly really got into the spirit of the mantel. Protecting crime alley. Helping his guys. Redistributing the wealth. Not bad for a billionaire nepo baby.

The other matter of concern is how many of his hench folk seriously thought Tim’s scrawny ass was Jason under a hex. Maybe he needs to hire Duke to come give them a lesson on critical thinking skills and recognizing magical effects. Perhaps that’s an idea that has legs. Hiring various bat-siblings to give talks to educate his employees. Damian could teach basic first aid. Dick could explain their rights and how to know when their rights are being violated. Steph could teach basics on de-escalation tactics. Cass could teach the basics of body language and kinesiology. No way in hell is Jason letting Bruce or Alfred anywhere near his people or Crime Alley. Even with the old man reading all those parenting books and shit.

Jason has gotten wind of Tim's temporary vacation from Gotham. Good for the kid. He's been a mini adult for way too long. Maybe, instead of attacking the kid in the tower all those years ago, Jason should've taken out his parents. Something tells him that Tim might not have appreciated that though.

****************************************************************************************************

Tim relaxes in the field, watching the clouds slowly drift across the wide blue sky. Kon is playing fetch with Krypto. He and Rosie have been getting on like lifelong friends reuniting. It's nice to not worry about meetings, memos, emails, or anything boardroom related. Kon even locked away his phone, laptop, and tablet. Tim could pick the lock easily at any time but finds that he doesn't really want to.

Bart and Cassie visit the farm for dinner most nights but otherwise Tim doesn't have to talk to anyone but the Kents. It's refreshing. He loves his family but there's just so many of them. Plus his nest is basically a second cave now. Tim’s refuge was never meant to become another HQ for the bats. But he isn't upset at what it has become. Tim just needs some space.

He's started therapy over video calls. His therapist immediately gave him homework. Tim is to hand write lists of what he wants. A list for what he wants out of therapy. A list for what he wants out of work. A list of what he wants out of life. For each thing he lists, Tim gets a literal gold star sticker in the mail. It's silly. And shouldn't be as meaningful as it is. But when he got his first pack of stickers in the mail, Tim cried. Like full ugly sobbing crying. Kon held Tim the whole time and never pushed Tim to explain. Tim places each star very carefully on an index card and stores it in a locked box under the false bottom of a drawer in his desk. The only other person who sees them is Kon.

It's been nice to have a calm place to process. Tim grew up on his own. Everyone in his life was in and out. They'd get tired or frustrated or bored and leave. But the Kent farm feels permanent. There's a history. The Kents have been farming this lot of land for generations. Gotham’s history is so less well documented in comparison. Tim is used to layers of decrepit buildings and public infrastructure stacked on top of each other. Rogue attacks, bombings, murders, toxins, and other hazards of living in Gotham tend to lead to frequent turnover of any given residence. It’s rare to find the same family living in the same house for generations unless they’re uber rich like the Waynes.

There are roots here. Tim feels like he could safely let himself build something here. Something permanent. Something he won't run from. Something that won't leave him.

So Tim stays in Kansas. Or in Kon’s Metropolis apartment. Which isn’t really intruding when you consider that, technically, Tim owns it. Spoiler and Black Bat and even Robin split Red Robin’s former patrol beat. Headlines sensationalize the disappearance of Red Robin. Soon followed by the announcement of the partial step back of Tim Drake from his duties at WE and Drake Industries. Somehow the general public reacts positively. Clowning on the companies for being run for nearly a decade by a teen and then young adult. Tim knows that Babs had something to do with it. Tam too. He sends them both gift baskets and thank you texts.

Bruce steps up and takes over some of Tim’s duties. He doesn’t ask Tim to explain or justify his decision. Instead, he just asked Tim “what can I do to support you?” Tim forwarded that question to Tam and asked her to delegate as she sees fit. Apparently, it's going well. Or at least that's what everyone tells him. To be entirely honest with himself, Tim isn't too curious about the veracity of that evaluation of Bruce’s work. He sincerely can't care about it anymore. His nonprofit projects can run without him. He designed them to do so. Besides, Tim has a lack of childhood to make up for.

****************************************************************************************************

Tim takes the first vacation of his life, literally ever. He cannot remember ever going on a trip for the sake of a trip. Tim and the team had adventures and days off. But he had always done some work, either cape or office related.

Tim decides to visit Bart and Cassie in California. Kon, of course, comes with. They drive from Kansas to the coast. Road tripping it with frequent breaks for Rosie to go to the bathroom. Staying only in dog friendly hotels. Tim makes sure to take as many pictures as possible. He has to get another drive to load all the photos on to. Tim sends the pictures of all the pets and animals they see to Damian to make up for not calling him when they fought Bessie all those weeks ago. It feels like another lifetime. Another Tim.

Once they reach Cali, Cassie and Bart demand Tim’s electronic devices and hand him a digital camera in exchange for his cooperation. It's one of those cheaper models that everyone had for like a decade before smartphones became accessible. Tim makes his friends take him to all the tourist spots. They hike. They visit the beach. Totally obliterate some frat at beach volleyball. It's fun. More fun than Tim can remember allowing himself to have.

He sits next to Kon on the beach, slathered in sunscreen and wearing one of those giant floppy-brimmed hats. He's paging through a book, some mystery novel. Tim figured out the twist less than ten pages in, but he's still reading it. That's something he's been working on in therapy too. Letting himself enjoy something, even if it's simple. Or easy. Taking his time to complete a task, not just to scratch it off a list, but to be in the moment while he does it. The idea is something that Tim would've scoffed at a few months ago. Would've written off as lazy or inefficient or unproductive. But it helps.

A small feeling in the back of his brain lets Tim know that one of the bats needs him. He sighs and sits up a bit more. Bart has a phone, but only answers Tim's calls from Gotham, and blocks all other numbers from that area code. Kon has a phone, but hardly uses it. It's currently dead at the bottom of their beach bag. "You feel a disturbance in the force or something?" Cassie teases. Tim closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "My family is going to try your phone next." He says ominously. "Well, too bad. I'm not answering. We're busy, relaxing." Cassie says defiantly.

Steph eventually gets in contact through Cassie, patched through by Wonder Woman herself. “Your family is demanding that I put you on the phone.” Cassie says, passing her cell to Tim.
“Yes?” He asks. This could go so many ways. A pang of anxiety clenches at his heart. Kon lifts his head from the towel to watch Tim’s face. The moment he looks uncomfortable, Kon will snatch the phone and toss it into the sea. Consequences be damned.
“Tim?” Steph's voice crackles on the other end. “Oh thank god. Okay, Jason is getting married in less than a month and your skinny pale ass is gonna be there. He wants you to be a groomsman, alright? Their colors are bloodshot red and gun powder black.” Tim cracks a smile, waiting to get a word in edgewise. “I'd love to.” He interrupts. Steph releases a huge breath. “Oh good, I was worried I'd need to convince you.” Tim shakes his head softly to himself. “Just send me the specs for whoever is making the suits and I'll handle it on my end. When's the date?”
“Will do. July 20th.”
Tim hums. A day after his birthday. He can work with that. Does mean that his birthday dinner will be the rehearsal dinner but whatever.
“Y'know your favorite niece misses you.” Steph murmurs. She's not trying to guilt trip him, Tim knows. But boy does any mention of Lian pull violently on his heartstrings. “Tell her I'll be in town soon. She and Rosie can have another spa night. The dog safe nail polish has begun to chip off anyway. She's in need of a touch up.” Steph laughs and says she'll pass on the message. Before she hangs up, she adds one more thing. “You sound lighter, Tim. Happy.” Tim closes his eyes to soak in the moment.
“I am.” He confirms. They say their goodbyes and end the call. Tim passes the phone back to Cassie and lays back down onto his towel.
Kon nudges his elbow and Tim cracks open one eye to look at him.
“We going back to Gotham?” He asks like he didn't just hear the entire conversation. “Yes, Kon. For the wedding. I'll get us our suits, and the gift, and everything.” Tim reassures.
“Oh good, so I only need to show up and look pretty!” Kon exclaims, grinning. Tim smiles back.
“You'll look gorgeous,” Tim corrects, “because you're you.” Kon blushes while Bart and Cassie make fake gagging noises beside them.

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Jason and Roy’s wedding is beautiful. Babs officiates the ceremony. Dick, as best man, ensures that everyone is dressed to perfection. It’s at the manor, surprisingly. Cass has been keeping Tim abreast of Bruce’s latest efforts to connect with his children. He knew they had gotten to a better place in their relationship. But for Jason to get married at Wayne Manor? Tim knows how much that must mean to the both of them.

Drill sergeant Stephanie Brown keeps everything running smoothly. Her lilac dress shimmers beautifully as she sternly reminds the caters to keep the vegetarian options on a separate prep surface. She has an earpiece and a radio to communicate with the several other off-duty heroes helping to keep this day together. Tim and her caught up last night at the rehearsal dinner. She kept Tim distracted until the cake was set down in front of him. Jason’s handiwork, no doubt. It was delicious. Tim hasn’t had a birthday party since his disastrous sixteenth, just dinner with friends. But last night was a very welcome change of pace.

The garden is decorated with environmentally sustainable ribbons, streamers, and biodegradable balloons. Lian’s idea, surely. Ivy babysits the kid once and all of a sudden she wants to save the world from global warming. Tim smiles to himself as he takes his place at the family table. Kon’s nametag rests at the seat next to his.

Rosie is outside with Ace and Goliath and a few other pets. There are several minders keeping an eye on them all. Jon being one of them. Tim spots Damian bringing Jon a plate piled high with food and a sugary drink. He nudges Kon and nods his head in their direction. Jon laughs at something Damian says, and Damian’s cheeks go pink. Kon beams. “I give it two weeks.” Tim muses. Kon shakes his head.
“I give it two days. You Waynes have no idea the pull you can have.”
Tim threads his fingers in Kon’s free hand. They sit and watch as the dance floor fills up, blocking their view of the younger boys.

Bruce and Dick are mainstays on the dance floor. Although Tim and Kon do join in a few slow dances, he really isn’t up for being the life of the party. There’s no persona to keep up. No vigilante identity to keep secret. Tim can just be. He, alone, is enough.

Tim, sober but tipsy and buzzing from the happy atmosphere, admits to himself that although his family is big and crazy and intrusive and loud, he wants them in his life. Even as Bruce falls into a punch bowl, recovering pretty smoothly with a joke about fruit punch and his red dress shirt. Tim wants this in his life. Their craziness. This existence that takes up space and energy. He wants this for himself. To be back in Gotham on his own terms, maybe only part time. But to build his roots with his family, with his friends, with Kon. For that little kid terrified that everyone was one wrong comment away from leaving. For teen Tim who fought so hard to be wanted. To be someone worth loving.
Kon squeezes his hand gently, cyan eyes knowingly giving Tim a purposeful look.
“I want this someday.” Tim whispers so quietly only someone with super hearing could have heard him. It’s scary to admit. It’s vulnerable. But Kon smiles softly. “Me too.”