Chapter 1: Those Nights

I remember when
We used to laugh
About nothing at all
It was better than going mad
From trying to solve all the problems we're going through
Forget 'em all
Cause on those nights we would stand and never fall
Together we faced it all
Remember when we'd
Stay up late and we'd talk all night
In a dark room lit by the TV light
Through all the hard times in my life
Those nights kept me alive

-Those Nights by Skillet

The mug of hot chocolate feels warm his hands and tastes amazing. Tim can barely contain his excitement. Here he is, sitting on a stool in the kitchen of Wayne Manor, drinking hot chocolate while Mr. Pennyworth gives Jason a thorough medical exam. But not, Tim notes with amusement, before making both of them scrub as much dirt off of their face and arms as possible.

Jason had protested, saying that he could be a clone or robot and therefore should be examined as soon as possible. The Butler had replied that even if he was a clone or robot he was to be expected to be as relatively clean as possible.

Unfortunately, Jason had enough dirt on him that even a good scrubbing in the sink with a washcloth only spread the dirt around more. The Butler, who insisted on being called Alfred, went to the other end of the kitchen saying that he needed to make a call.

Tim couldn't help but stare at Jason. He was wrapped in a thick blanket, his grave clothes having been summarily discarded, and red plaid boxers. He looked a bit ridiculous, with his face covered in dirty streaks and his dark hair plastered at odd angles with mud.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," Tim answered, hiding his smile by taking another sip of hot chocolate.

Alfred returned carrying a plate full of sliced fruit which he placed on the kitchen island.

"I was unable to reach Master Bruce, I'm afraid. It appears he is working late again tonight."

He paused, giving Jason a meaningful look which Tim interpreted as: don't mention anything to do with Batman. He almost spoke up to say already knew everything. But the cautious part of him, the part that allowed him to sneak onto Wayne Manor's grounds without getting caught, told and keep quiet.

"I did however take the liberty of contacting Master Richard. He said he would be here within the hour." Alfred said before leaving the room.

The yellow giant star that had been burning in Tim's chest since he helped dig Jason out of his grave went supernova. The first Robin was coming here! And within the hour! He checked his watch; it was twenty minutes to midnight. But wasn't Nightwing with the Titans? They were in San Francisco on the other side of the continent from the affluent outskirts of Gotham.

"Aren't you at least gonna have some?"

Tim started, having momentarily forgotten he was not alone.

"What?" Jason was looking at him like he was an idiot.

"Are. You. Going. To. Eat some?" he said slowly, gesturing at the fruit platter.

"Oh? Yeah, thank you."

He grabbed several banana pieces and munched on them while Jason shook his head at him.

Alfred returned again this time carrying a bucket full of soapy water, a scrub brush, a comb and a loofah. He then proceeded to remove Jason's blanket and ladle water onto his hair and assault the mud with a scrub brush. Tim started sniggering. He couldn't help it. Jason looked totally ridiculous, sputtering and trying unsuccessfully to shake the butler off.

"Shit! That hurts!"

Alfred hit Jason sharply on the head with the loofah.

"Language, Master Jason. Returning from the grave does not give you license for profanity."

"Yes Alfred. What are you looking at?" he snapped at the silently laughing Tim.

"N-nothing," he replied, looking away as Alfred started to use the comb to remove the smaller pieces of dirt out of Jason's hair.

"I think he's a bit slow," Jason whispered Alfred, wincing as he combed through a knotted lock of hair.

"I am not!"

Jason looked unconvinced.

Alfred ran a comb through Jason's hair one last time, pronounced it as clean as it was going to be, then began drying his hair by vigorously rubbing it with a dish towel. When he was finished Jason hair was remarkably clean and dry, considering its previous state, but the drying had caused it to stick out all over. Tim couldn't help it this time, he burst out laughing.

"What's so funny," Jason spat.

"You. Your head looks like a dandelion."

"It does not."

"Actually, Master Jason, I am afraid it rather does." Alfred interrupted, now scrubbing the mud off of Jason's neck, back and arms with the loofah. Jason scowled petulantly and chucked and apple slice at Tim's head. Tim, who had taken karate since he was three, snatched it out of the air several inches from his face and popped it in his mouth. Jason looked impressed then winced as Alfred once again smacked him on the head with the loofah.

"Master Jason, please refrain yourself from fruit hurling. You are no longer an infant. Apologize to Master Drake, if you will."

"Tim."

"I'm sorry?" The Butler replied.

"Call me Tim. Master Drake sounds funny."

"As you please. Master Jason?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" From the way Alfred prompted, Tim could tell that they had had this sort of conversation before. Jason rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry I threw an apple slice at your head. Happy?" The question was directed Alfred, who gave a long-suffering sigh and looked at Tim.

"It's fine," Tim said, shrugging. "We're cool."

It was at that point that Richard Grayson, the first Robin, walked into the kitchen. He was wearing blue jeans and black tennis shoes with a Navy hoodie. His eyes immediately found Jason, whose skin was dripping wet and bright red from scrubbing.

"Jason?" Dick whispered, disbelieving.

He walked over and grabbed the boy shoulders and shook him a little, as if he couldn't believe he was real until he touched him. He opened and closed his mouth, apparently searching for something to say. When he found his voice he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Did you get electrocuted? What's wrong with your hair?"