Ok, so I'm of the belief that when Jason was a Robin and Dick was off becoming Nightwing, Dick was a Total BAMF but sweet big brother. Like Dean from Supernatural. Cuz he was a moody teenager and everything comic wise I've read with dick as a baby has him as this adorable sassy kid brat thing. Not to mention he was used to being the youngest, and his big brother figures had been Boston Brand and Roy Harper. Who are kind of. . . Unconventional. But then everyone makes him out to be such a positive happy big brother figure for young Jason. . . So I guess this is an au?
Regardless, I don't own it.
Ooh, also, I have the headcanon that Jason calls Tim and Damian replacement and brat cuz Dick called him that.
"Ahh! What the hell is that? A gremlin?"
Not exactly what Jason had been expecting when he walked into the Batcave. He'd been expecting a grumpy 'suit up' from a sulking Bruce or maybe Alfred with a tray loaded with sandwiches.
But his four months of training to 'expect-the-unexpected' had totally failed him. A young teenage boy, maybe fourteen or fifteen, tops, was sitting on the console of the Batcomputer. Nobody did that. Not even Jason. He was a total Pretty-Boy, he was even wearing a sweater. A sweater. Okay, he did have a leather jacket over it, which made it a little better. But not much.
He would have looked like skin and bones to the untrained eye, but Jason's eye had almost a half a year in experience. He was really muscular, but lithe (thank you Alfred's vocabulary tutoring) under the baggy sweater. The older boy had black hair and darkish skin, but bright blue eyes.
The real shocker was the fondness in Bruce's response. "No, Dick, he's an eleven year old. And technically your younger brother."
'Dick' (ok, honestly he felt a little sorry for the guy now) squinted at him. "Whatever," he said. "Just nobody feed it after midnight."
Jason scoffed. Who did this punk think he was? They were Batman and Robin, he couldn't talk to them this way!
But then the rest of the Bruce's words seemed to sink in. "Wait," Dick's eyes went as huge as the Batmobile's - very nice, thank you very much - hubcaps. "Younger brother? Did you forget to use protection? Oh, that is rich! Wait until I tell Roy!" He burst out laughing, immune to Bruce's potent glare.
"I'm Jason Todd. You might know me better as Robin."
Dick stopped laughing. His eyes even got a little sad and faraway, before he grinned and hopped down from the console. He walked over and knelt in front of Jason, extending a hand.
"And I'm Dick Grayson. You might know me better as Nightwing, replacement."
Holy. . . This was Dick Grayson. This was Dick Grayson! The first Robin! Nightwing! He was like a god! Jason felt his eyes widen to the size of the Batmobiles hubcaps. He patted Dick's face, checking to see if it was real. Totally authentic. "Bruce," he whispered. "This is Dick Grayson."
He pointed up at the grinning older boy. Bruce lifted an eyebrow. "Yes."
Jason turned his head slowly towards the man. "Bruce," he said a little more urgently. "This is Dick Grayson. The first Robin. The Nightwing."
"And," Bruce added, smirking. Wait, why was he smirking? He never smirked. He never even came close to smirking. "Most importantly, your baby sitter."
"What?" Dick choked. "You said you wanted to consult me on a case- no, I should have known! World's Greatest Detective over here! You'd never need help on a case!"
"Alfred's out of town, I have to track down the Joker in DC, which will take several day, at least, and Jason is injured. Besides, if someone doesn't keep watch, he'll go out anyway."
Dick gaped at him. "I can't-" he sighed, looking totally exasperated. "I'm supposed to be the leader of the Titans. I can't just drop everything to babysit." He turned to Jason. "No offense, kid."
"None taken!" Jason said too eagerly. No! That sounded really lame. He lowered his voice. "I mean, none taken."
Dick smirked at him, before looking at Bruce again. "I dumped everything on Donna for the weekend."
What. He grabbed Dick's hand, and his attention. "You're staying the whole weekend?!"
The older boy - legend, really - sighed again. He ran his fingers through his short hair, closing his eyes. Jason was totally going to get his hair cut like that next time. "Apparently."
"Cool-" Jason was cut off by tires skidding off. They both whipped around.
"Did he just-" Dick spluttered. "He lef- whatever. C'mon brat."
"Sooo. . ."
"Sooo. . . " Jason parroted, not taking his eyes off of Dick. He was right there! He was pretty sure his mind would have exploded if it hadn't already five minutes ago.
The teenager made a go on gesture.
Jason looked around, shrugging.
"What d'ya want to do?" Dick asked finally.
Jason shrugged again.
"Right," Dick sighed. "Well, if I remember correctly from my many years in this house, junk food, alcohol, R movies, explicit content of any kind, pranking, and altogether fun, are forbidden. Does that sound right?"
He nodded vigorously. Should he be calling him Mr. Grayson? But then, he was only three or four years older than him. . .
"And, the enforcers of those rules are out of town. And gave us no specific guidelines to adhere to, yes?"
Another nod. He was pretty sure he understood most of that.
"Then I propose that we have the most extreme weekend that two bros can possibly have in a huge mansion and billions of dollars!"
Bros. Brothers. He had a brother. A brother that was the Dick Grayson. Awesome was an understatement.He smiled. Dick looked up from his speech, and saw his smile. He grinned wickedly, eyes flashing.
"We're going to get along just fine, kid," he slung an arm around his shoulders. "Just fine."
That weekend was the best Jason could ever remember having. They stayed up all night eating mounds of candy, junk food, pizza, anything. They watched raunchy comedies and horror flicks until 5'am both nights. His new brother taught him about pop culture until he thought his head would explode. He'd picked up plenty of terms. from on the streets, but never the meaning of them. Dick let him drive Bruce's favorite cars. They had contests and races and prepared pranks for their legal guardian. The only time Jason remembered stopping smiling was during the horror movies, and that was only to scream.
But most importantly, Dick had exposed him to the wonders of motorcycles and leather.
On Sunday evening, they got word that Bruce would be back, and Jason had to ask the question that had been eating at him before he lost his chance.
He was sitting on Dick's bed, watching the older boy pack. "Dick. . . " he said hesitantly.
"Yeah, brat?"
"Why'd you give up being Robin?"
Dick stopped shoving clothes into his black duffel bag to look solemnly at Jason.
"I didn't. Bruce fired me. I got shot by the Joker and I . . . almost died. He said it wasn't safe for me anymore. But it never had been. We fought. . . Hell, we still do. I ran away, started the Titans."
"Is that why he won't let me near Joker?" Jason asked quietly.
Dick didn't answer. He shouldered the pack and pushed the baseball cap that had been perched on his head onto Jason's. He kept silent as he slid down the shining banister. By the time Dick got to the door, he seemed to have found an answer.
Nightwing stared hard at Jason, the icy blue of his eyes unsettling him.
"The Joker ruined my career as Robin. Don't let him ruin yours too."