Author's Note:
Sorry it's a day late, that NY trip got me a little turned around on deadlines, so this one fell a little by the wayside. But I'm back now and all caught up, so I should be good to go for a while yet!
On to Jason being fantastically supportive and sweet, while also being a bit of a social wrecking ball!
Chapter Twenty Seven: Rule #27 – Be Adaptable and Considerate
Jason wakes up around 10am on Monday morning with his hypothesis confirmed that everything about the world around him is now back to business.
Bruce spends the day at WE; Dick and Babs are knee deep in school work.
Jason's still confined to bed, but he feels almost entirely better. A little weak, maybe a tad sore, but essentially, he's totally fine.
Alfred doesn't buy it for a second.
He doesn't let Jason out of bed for more than the occasional bathroom break.
He does let Jason have a lap top though, which eases some of the aching boredom and the grinding feel of uselessness that's starting to dig into his bones like crushed glass.
Jason spends the day catching up on homework, at least, while Alfred's watching, and the rest of the time going over case notes attached to the Tolovi files – writes up his own quasi-official report. He still doesn't remember enough to make it of any real use to anyone.
Which is annoying as hell, but not something he can really fix or anything.
Using mostly Barbara's live-updating notes, Jason checks up on Tim – sees the GPS data with his own two eyes that shows Tim that night… in the Batmobile after Jason's little rescue, as he forces the Batmobile to move off course to the Diamond District to where he contacted Selina Kyle, and then as he was hiking back across town to collect his bike and back pack before going straight home to the Drake Estate.
He goes over the numbers four or five times before he's convinced enough that it's legit, and that he should probably move on to digging into other things.
Like Selina Kyle… and her purported proteges.
Prior to this, she'd made one mention of wanting an apprentice that Jason knows of personally, about a year and a half ago when he was still new on the scene and rough around the Robin feathers. If Batman could just go about collecting so many stray humans, he had no right critiquing her penchant for helping out stray kittens – she'd been sassy and flirtatious, with no real malice in her tone. And she'd made one off hand mention about having recently spotted someone she might be interested in making into her own little mini-me.
Jason's first thought in going over that notation now is that she meant Tim…
But if Tim's account of when they met is accurate, she'd've already known Tim for at least six months… while the term 'recent' is pretty flexible in coming from the Cat, half a year is probably too much of a stretch.
Besides, Jason doesn't think Tim IS Selina's apprentice.
Stray… Stray was … different.
He doesn't have a clear enough picture of the Cat in his memory to say that Stray and Tim don't look at all alike, but … they didn't feel the same, like they could possibly be the same person. The pictures Jason has of Stray's body language… is just too disparate to reconcile with his picture of Tim…
And Tim… Tim would've told him if he were a master theif's apprentice, right?
Or at least given something away… Tim is not that good a liar… especially when he's scared as shit about the Tolovi's nearly possibly killing his heroes… when he told them about knowing Selina at all, he would've been easy to see through Tim's tale about being nothing more to her than a vague midnight acquaintance, right?
There's a weird curl of almost doubt in him at the thought, but he's still pretty thoroughly convinced that behind the goggles Stray is not Tim Drake.
Digging into that much is exhausting.
He has to take a break around lunchtime – Alfred brings him chicken salad sandwiches and brooks no argument against his 'suggestion' of Jason's closing the laptop while he eats.
Afterwards, with food in his belly, that bizarre sense of safety still lingering in the sunny warmth of his bedroom, and the quiet of midafternoon in a household that operates primarily after dark, Jason drifts off to sleep before he can even think of getting back to work.
He's up again by sunset, and digging through more files, Dick and Bruce check in with him around dinner time.
Dick somehow wheedled Alfred into allowing fish sticks and box mac and cheese onto the menu… which makes Jason want to drown him in his sleep or something equally dramatic because fish sticks and box mac and cheese hit Jason hard right in the childhood feels and Jason… Jason just… cannot deal with that.
He'd told Dick once, just once, that the first thing he'd learned to cook was a batch of frozen fish sticks… that he'd made them for Catherine when she'd been sick in bed, from a flu or some shit for once, and not a down swing from a chemical high… that she'd made them for him when he'd been sick…
And the mac and cheese… that was for special occasions, when they had milk and butter and a reason to use it. That was for when he got a certificate or something from school for straight A's, or for a rare project that his teacher felt deserved commending…
Jason would never have told Dick about that, not unless he was so punch drunk on blood loss and pain meds that nothing like pride or shame or anything mattered at all any more… but he'd only been that bad off once before and Dick hadn't been there.
At least, Jason thinks he wasn't.
And Dick just looks so. Fucking. Proud.
His face falls a few seconds after he swept into the room with the tray in his hands and he manages to take in Jason's stricken expression.
"Fish sticks were your sick day food when you were little, right?" Dick asks, sounding startlingly unsure for the golden boy of the Family. "Well… mac and cheese was mine… so I thought… I thought we could combine them… make a new tradition. A special Brothers Wayne sick day meal… but uh… I can ask Alfred to whip up something else."
Dick is back pedaling, but Bruce is in the doorway and blocking his escape.
Bruce places a hand on Dick's shoulder while keeping carefully assessing eyes trained on Jason's face – worried, wary… and almost uncertain.
Jason can't peg why, he's too preoccupied with trying to force himself back under a reasonable measure of control. He can feel the edge of a panic attack threatening and he beats that shit down without a shred of mercy – he's already screwed himself over more than enough to be considered an invalid, anything more and he'll likely have Robin stripped from him immediately without any chance at all of redeeming himself.
"I hope you at least brought the fucking ketchup," he growls, scooting up and over into the usual 'meal ready' arrangement.
There's a beat of disbelief while Dick doubts his ears, but then he nods and breaks into a wide smile that's somehow twice as blinding and sparkly as the one he'd started with.
As if there'd never been a bobble in the lightness of the atmosphere, Dick bounds over to join Jason on his bed – the food tray set on the curl-over stand between them.
Bruce doesn't adapt as quickly. He looks like he might want to press the issue of Jason's jerk reaction, but Dick and Jason seem perfectly united on the not talking about it front and he lets it go as Dick flicks the television on to catch an episode of that crazy anime with bizaro land magical fruit eating pirates and endless layers of crazy shenanagans that are ridiculous enough to distract anyone from reality.
The rest of supper passes without event and, soon afterwards, Bruce and Dick head down to the Cave to get ready for patrol.
Jason's definitely hit the point of healing that manifests itself in restless aggravation. He doesn't quite resent the others for being able to head out on patrol, but he doesn't like them much for it either.
He won't be allowed down in the Cave, that much he knows without asking.
Instead of testing Alfred's patience, Jason stays in his room.
Works through a light round of workout forms – including the special yoga, tai chi, weird balance thing that Bruce taught them to help them push their bodies' limits and seamlessly blend the various martial arts elements they're learning into one unique style all their own.
He pushes himself harder than Alfred would approve, but he's feeling better and he needs to get back into peak condition ASAP if he's going to convince Bruce that he's not such a screw up that he has to be kicked out as Robin. Or out of the Manor altogether.
He has to.
The rest of the week is more of the same.
He spends the nights working up his muscles in careful, quiet routines that go unnoticed even by the sharpest eyes. And he spends the days on his laptop, not always in his bed, but always in a quiet space. By Tuesday afternoon he migrates to spend most of his daylight hours in the library, catching up on school work and checking up on the Tolovi case files – making sure that every last thread of the investigation is neatly tied up.
Rwen Tolovi may have been an arrogant bastard, but it seems like he's actually been true to his word about getting his shit out of Gotham.
Jason feels a grim and gritty satisfaction at that fact.
The other variable Jason keeps a close eye on is Tim.
Nightwing and Batgirl have been keeping close tabs on him as well, and their reports claim he's been very shaken up by recent events… which Jason isn't sure how to take.
Tim has every reason to be shaken… but knowing him, even as little as he does… either Tim is way more shaken than they realize to be so openly showing signs of it or he's faking it for some reason… or something else is happening that he's using the Tolovi Incident to cover for…
By Friday morning, Batman's gotten a straight forward interrogation with him and the notes from it have been typed up into the case file.
Tim is definitely scared. Very scared.
The realization makes something sharp and bitter twist in Jason's gut.
He informs Alfred on Friday that he intends to go see Tim.
Alfred simultaneously offers resounding support, and deflates his sails completely, by grounding his ass until the next day.
He does however, offer Jason a consolation prize: helping him in the kitchen.
"If you're well enough to endeavor a jaunt to a friend's house, you're well enough to aid in the upkeep of your own house," Alfred comments, setting Jason to polishing the silver before he offers the wonderful privilege of helping him cook dinner.
Bruce is informed by Alfred that night of Jason's intentions for the morning, and because no one argues with Alfred, Jason's granted permission to go despite it being very clear that Bruce would like to keep him confined to the Manor for another week at least.
That night when Bruce and Dick go out for patrol, Jason ventures down to the Cave – only after Batman and Nightwing are well out into the city.
Alfred arches an eyebrow, but it's only mild disapproval causing the curve. And it eases significantly when Batgirl checks in with the video call function on her gauntlet and grants the Cave the kind of smile that's becoming far too infrequent from her these days.
She and Jason chat awhile and under the supervision of Alfred and Batgirl, Jason works through a few forms on the mats – moving properly through the full range of motions and putting the force and effort in it that he'd had to curtail slightly while cooped up in his room.
Jason is restless and antsy when he tries to go to bed.
Can't sleep.
Last time he was nervous like this … well, honestly, he doesn't exactly recall a time with nerves like this in his gut.
Last time he was nervous at all was the afternoon before he first went out as Robin, and that was different – and an oddity in its own right. An almost… good nervous. An excited kind of nervous.
This… is different.
He's not sure what he's expecting.
Tim… if he's not… okay… Jason's not really sure what he's gonna do, but if he is… he's still not sure what he'll do because there's no way a kid like that should be okay with anything that's recently happened to him.
Nothing about any of it bodes well.
He punishes his pillow for most of the night, beating it into something comfy enough to snatch a few hours of fitful sleep between bursts of restless movement.
By nine in the morning he can't keep himself in bed.
Alfred has breakfast ready for him. Dick isn't awake yet and Alfred suggests that perhaps leaving before Jason's adoptive brother rouses would be best.
Dick wants to help Tim as much as Jason does, but his methodology and the arbitrary lines in the sand he draws are not always complatible with Jason's… and Dick's methods have yielded results that the butler has been finding less than satisfactory.
A different approach is necessary.
And Jason's had success with him before.
Jason shrugs.
But the vote of confidence soothes the something spikey in the space behind his lungs.
It's warm enough that he doesn't need a coat, but the wind is still… refreshing and he keeps his pace quick as he travels over to the Drake Mansion.
He contemplates taking the short cut through the yard, hopping the wall, and slipping through the Drake's garden, but decides that getting mud all over the Drake's freakishly sterile house probably won't put Tim in any kind of mood to open up.
The way by road's not that long anyway.
He makes it to Tim's door by 10, knocks, and receives the same treatment Dick did when he came by to check up – he's ignored.
Rings the bell, knocks again, same shtick.
By 10:05, he's done.
He picks the lock.
Marches straight up the stairs to Tim's bedroom.
Flings the door open.
Comes face to face with the pasty ass baby seal and big ol' god damn bambi eyes.
Freezes the fuck up.
Because Tim might not be Stray, but Stay got Jason's stunted little brain thinkin' about things it'd never really bothered with before and suddenly those bambi eyes… are a lot more interesting for a whole mess of reasons that should probably be reviewed very carefully behind closed doors before Jason even pretends to think about acting on any one of them.
Tim is sitting at his computer chair, and it's slowly rotating underneath him from how he jumped when Jason burst open the door – Tim's head is rotating on his neck like a particularly creepy gyroscope or something. His focus is utterly unwavering and very distracting.
He tugs at his sleeves, hands resting in his lap in a way that would've derailed Jason's ability to pay attention to his own brain even further if not for the sudden rush of anger in him at the sleeve thing – the sleeve thing that hides injuries he shouldn't have, and seems disturbingly like it's already becoming a dangerous habit.
Jason doesn't think he's gotten any new injuries since the kidnapping stupidity, what with the Bats all hovering like helicopter parents who've never been told that stalkery is a unhealthy pastime, but he latches onto the anger – grounds himself in it.
He glowers at Tim and growls, "You are a stupid little shit."
Bambi blinks and Jason feels a little more solid.
"You know that, Timmers, right? That you are a stupid, reckless, idiotic little shithead of a genius who doesn't know the first damn thing about working with a team," Jason goes on with an exasperated shake of his head. "Even I know I should consult with someone before disappearing completely. Leave a fuckin' note or somethin'."
Jason huffs, then turns his glare straight back on Tim at full force. "You have any idea how fucking lucky you got? What if nobody figured out that somethin' was wrong?"
The silence seems to stretch past any possible limit.
It's worse than talking to Bruce, worse than talking to a frickin' white board… the kid is the blankest slate of utterly uncomprehending Jason has ever seen.
It makes Jason want to take the few steps to cross the distance between them so he can grab the idiot's shoulders and shake some bloody sense into him.
But if he grabs Tim's shoulders – and oh hell do his fingers twitch with anticipation – he's not sure he'll be able to think straight enough to remember why he's still angry.
And his anger just keeps building and boiling over on itself.
Until something in that stupid little robot brain clicks and Tim squeaks, "I'm sorry."
And just like that everything deflates.
Jason hangs his head and huffs because he's not entirely sure what he's supposed to do now because the anger was definitely all that was keeping him propped up until just now.
But Tim's still hella skittish.
His apology was a squeak. And Jason can hear how his breaths are coming fast in shallow pants that are definitely not helpful to sustained health.
As much as Jason wants to beat the snot of the little sucker, Tim needs to be healthy enough to make that survivable. Stupid robot is gonna rattle his brain right out of his ears.
So.
Pause.
Normal.
Tim needs Jason to pretend things are normal enough for him to calm down and then maybe they can start getting at the issues that have Tim so rattled – and have Jason very reasonably worried about his sanity.
Jason can do that.
Last time Tim got himself nabbed and Jason came over to check on him, they just kinda ignored that bit of it. They worked it out. And Tim totally owes Jason some game time in that sweet ass media center he got to see but not utilize last time he was here.
"Next time, just call the damn Bats first," Jason instructs firmly, trying to force the last few stabs of tension out of the air before he transitions into playing at normality, "Hell, call the fuckin' police – they aren't all shit at their jobs, you know."
Tim nods.
Like he's taken the instruction to heart as gospel truth.
And that is just the biggest pile of steaming hot shit Jason has ever seen.
Dumbass figured out who Batman was at like nine years old. Frickin nine.
He's a dog with a god damn bone and there is no way in hell he's just gonna let shit go.
But calling him out on that right now won't help anyone, though Tim seems to notice that Jason's not quite on board with his story.
"I won't," he says – clearly attempting to reassure Jason that he means it.
His gaze drops from Jason to stare at where his fingers have begun to fiddle with the phantom of a stray thread on the taught-stretched knee of his dark jeans. "Do it again, I mean. I won't. I'm gonna step back from trying to help the Bats with any of their cases... I'm just a distraction, anyway, so... It'll be better for everyone."
His jaw works something over as he considers his next words carefully.
Batman has bugged Tim's bed room, after all.
Jason is limited in how he can respond, but that's okay… they're gonna try playing normal here for a bit, after all.
"Yeah, well, whatever," Jason grumbles, forcibly dismissing his frustration. "I think you owe me a little distraction, right now, regardless. I came over here like three weeks ago to play video games and we got interrupted by another one of your stupid little stunts."
Tim ducks his head guiltily.
"Well?" Jason prompts after a beat. "Media room. Chop, chop."
"But... I have homework."
Jason arches a skeptical eyebrow and shifts his gaze to the computer screen.
The image of a fluffy blue cat trussed up in a doll-size white lab coat and safety goggles as an off-screen human manipulates its limbs into explaining diagrams of something that looks like an exploding bowl of electro-acid koolaide does not help Tim's case about homework.
He's clearly finished his homework.
"Well, I ain't playing Portal by myself, Timbo," Jason huffs, "So, up an' at 'em."
Tim gives a heavy, reluctant sigh and gingerly unfolds himself from his computer chair in a languid, petulant motion that is just So. Not. Helpful. to Jason's ability to focus.
Tim's legs almost fail to support him, and Jason has to clench his fists against his sides to keep from moving as Tim wobbles. Tim rights himself under his own power and shuffles towards Jason with a lingering uncertainty in his steps.
He passes Jason in the door without pausing to notice the way Jason's gone stock still – gone Bat still – and keeps right on shuffling down the hall.
Jason follows at a mild distance.
Playing normal might be more difficult that Jason imagined, but he's still determined to finagle it somehow.
He follows Tim into the Media Room and at his insistence, they do end up playing Portal – which is fortunate, because it takes a solid chunk of Jason's concentration to solve the puzzles, even with Tim's impressive robot brain helping. And the occupied piece of his brain keeps the rest of it busy enough to focus on making Tim interact with him – instead of allowing it rein to get side tracked into thinking about the way Tim's massive sweater is falling off one shoulder or how he bites his lip when he's confused by a ridiculously illogical twist in the game – which is important because Tim is pretty much refusing to interact with him.
Tim seems willing to suggest options for getting through the puzzles, but won't say more than a word on what he's been doing lately.
Won't explain why he's been ignoring Dick's attempts to check up.
Won't explain why he looks so fuckin' sad every time he looks down during the waits on one of the load screens.
It's fun and light and really… nice, otherwise, but Jason's not as easy with the situation of playing pretend normal and he'd thought he would be.
Neither of them bring up the night with GHOST and the Tolovis.
It's obvious that both of them know they probably ought to talk about it, but neither of them make any real move to broach the subject.
And the longer they wait, the harder it gets to even consider bring it up.
Especially as the day drags to a close.
That cleaning lady / nanny that Tim was always on about, Mrs. Simz, she finds the two of them holed up in the media room around five and demands that Jason stay over for supper. She honestly does it in a 'sorta suggestion, really an order' manner that Alfred uses – not nearly as powerful or potent, but reminiscent enough to make Jason kinda want to stay.
And she's not half bad, he supposes as the meal unfolds.
She's not Alfred, but she's a pretty good cook and she makes Tim clear his plate with subtle looks and pressures that don't make him feel cornered. Clever lady, good priorities.
Keen eyes, too.
She spends the whole evening observing Jason carefully, with an indirect stare that's not quite as forcefully evaluative as Batman's, but one that's still nothing to sniff at.
Jason had been pissed with Mrs. Simz for the whole letting Tim sneak out thing that she's clearly very guilty of allowing, but she does seem to be genuinely invested in his well being.
She seems to support Tim's friendship with Jason, something on which Jason has rather mixed feelings… Jason's friendship with him keeps Tim a bit too close for comfort to the dangers of the Gotham underworld. On the other hand… Tim would clearly be emboiled in the madness anyway and being close to Jason and the Bats now meant that people were out there looking for him, and ready to fight, when he went missing…
If Jason hadn't been worried about Tim's involvement, he may not have noticed Tim's kidnapping until after Rwen got his hands on him, got that drug in his veins… Of course, if Tim hadn't been worried about Jason, and actively digging for information to help his case, what are the odds he would've been able to happen upon the details that lead to his kidnapping at all?
Spinning himself in circles would get him nowhere and Jason forces his thoughts out of the ridiculous rut they're digging.
By the time Jason gets back to the Manor, he's exhausted.
Dick and Bruce are getting ready for patrol, but they ask about how Tim's doing and how Jason's day went. It's casual, familial… nice.
He goes to bed less than an hour after they leave for Gotham proper.
Sleeps the whole night, soundly.
Wakes up Sunday morning ready to do it all over again.
Jason's determined to make Tim open up again, to relax out of this weirdly skittish shell he's wrapped himself up inside in wake of the Tolovi incident.
Jason goes over around 1oam on Sunday.
Knocks on the door.
Picks the lock when Tim ignores him.
They wind up playing video games all day and Jason stays for supper.
Tim has school Monday through Friday, so Jason doesn't head over until almost 4. Follows the same pattern other wise.
Tim barely speaks unless Jason initiates the conversation, or he brilliantly intuits a solution to one of the puzzles they're working through.
It's… kind of alarming, definitely worrisome.
Particularly combined with the weird mix of happy and sad that keep flitting across the intentional blankness of his primary expression.
Jason does make a bit of progress with him.
It takes almost a full week, and a transition to a game with a more involved and elaborate storyline, before Tim starts snarking at the idiotic characters, but he does. And once he starts snarking at the game he starts more openly interacting with Jason again – letting himself relax.
He still makes Jason pick the lock when he comes over – which is odd and a bit concerning, yet not any kind of actual barrier – but he starts to laugh and smile more freely.
Jason continues working with Tim, and he recovers from his 'skiing accident' enough to go back to school himself – and to start working out again, really working out, training his body rather than just doing the minimal to maintain it.
Everything starts to return to normal, slowly but surely.
Jason starts pestering B to let him out in the suit again, cautiously at first – wary of the possibility that pushing the issue might just send him straight to stripping the mantle. But as Bruce shows no signs of considering taking Robin off the streets for good, and Nightwing reluctantly announces that he probably should consider heading back to California soon, Jason gets more vocal about being ready to head back out.
It takes two more weeks for Bruce to consent to a slow reintroduction of a patrol routine.
The Friday night he agrees is one Jason spends elated.
The Saturday morning afterwards is one Jason spends conflicted.
If he goes out at night, and maintains his standing at school, he's going to have much less time to spend at the Drake Mansion with Tim.
He doesn't want that fact to send Tim back into that skittish little shell he started in.
Jason hems and haws over how to bring it up until they run out of time to waver. Mrs Simz has already arrived and sent them to wash up for supper before Jason manages to awkwardly spit out, "B's lettin' me go out again."
Staring at the run of water over his hands, Jason can't see Tim's expression, but he can feel the confused little robot brain whirring through the possibilities of meaning – clicking through them systematically until it lights on one that makes sense.
"Oh."
There's a lot in the word.
Realization that's grim in a way that makes Jason sure Tim understands he's talking about Robin. There's also disappointment – reflective of that flash of sadness that's been flitting over his expression when he's not focused on keeping it blank or snarking at an NPC.
He knew this was coming, obviously – has clearly been dreading it.
Jason shuts off the water and turns to scan carefully over Tim's face.
He gets absolutely nothing from it.
Blank wall, worse than B.
Jason squints. Stares harder, tries to get anything out of him.
Doesn't get much, but can guess that the mix of dread and resignation in the one syllable response Tim gave might be covering loneliness. It's not like Tim's got many other friends, not like Jason's really had to fight for his time or anything…
"I'll still be around, Timmers," he says, slow and seriously – watching Tim carefully as he speaks, "You ain't got nothin' to worry about with that."
"I'm not," Tim hurries to refute, stepping up to wash his own hands. "Worried, I mean."
Bull. Shit.
Jason doesn't let his scruitiny ease.
Tries to figure out exactly what Tim's focused on that's keep him all wound up.
Before he figures it out, Tim's pushing out another string of words – not stuttered, but not quite steady either, "I'm... relieved actually, I'm gonna be busy, too. I, uh, I got an – an, um, internship... With a Drake Labs special project."
It seems true.
But Jason's suspicious. Mostly of why Tim hasn't brought it up before now.
It sounds like something he should have been excited about, enough to talk about as a possible option for his summer, even if nothing was settled yet.
"Yeah, um, I just got the confirmation email this morning," Tim explains, concentrating very hard on rinsing the suds out from between his fingers. "I, um, I start after school on Monday. It's uh, it's an um a coding project mostly, with a bit of chemistry... Trying to make solar power more efficient and accessible. Maybe find a way to make it applicable to taxis."
"Uh-huh," Jason murmurs darkly, frustration mixing with his suspicion now.
Again, it sounds true.
But Jason's acutely suspicious.
And not only of Tim.
B's been working on something lately, something with Wayne Enterprises that sounds eerily similar… If Tim's just getting himself stuck under B's thumb… maybe this isn't actually a good thing. Jason wants to think it has potential to give Tim something interesting to do all day during the summer break, possibly with people.
"I was gonna tell you," Tim mutters appologetically, breaking Jason's concetration as he steps back from the sink – while avoiding Jason's gaze. "At dinner. I wanted to let Mrs Simz know, too, and it's kind of like an exciting thing, right? Something that should be announced at like a meal or something where the whole family is gathered? Dinner is traditionally for things like that, at least, according to the sociology book I picked up the other day."
Jason wants to smack the idiot.
Seriously.
Jason can't tell if Tim really means it, if he's genuinely that ridiculous.
It's… plausible.
Jason takes a slow breath – carefully running over his next words.
He can't tell how much of what Tim said is true, how much is bullshit, or if he should actually try pushing for the truth… it could just backfire on him. He'd gotten Tim to open back up a lot over the last few weeks, and yet, it would not take much at all to send him back into that stupid skittish shell.
But he does have to check.
"This internship thing doesn't have anything to do with the Wayne Tech autonomous car project thingy B's just announced, does it?"
"It might," Tim says, answering Jason's question as he gives up on avoiding his gaze and takes the towel Jason's offering to dry his hands. "But only if I get through this Drake Labs thing and prove that I'm good enough to work on the rest of the project."
And he just… looks So. Damn. Hopeful…
He wants to get this project greenlit – even if it means being caught under Bruce's thumb, Tim wants it more than Jason's seen him want anything.
Unsurprisingly, even to himself at this point, Jason caves to the hidden pleading in Tim's stupidly big blue bambi eyes.
Tim formally makes the announcement of his internship at dinner and Mrs Simz is aptly excited for him about it.
Jason uses the opening to announce that he's got summer plans of his own, a bullshit story about joining a rugby team that will explain any new bruises fairly easily and also excuse the fact that he'll have far less time to hang around here at the Drake Mansion.
That night when Jason leaves, he does it with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
He's glad to be going back out with B, and foiling a jewelry store robbery only an hour into patrol makes him certain that he needs to be out helping the Crusade, but he does still worry about how Tim is coping.
He intends to keep checking up on him.
It's not perfect, and it's not a solution, but it's a plan… and that might just be enough for now… they'll test it out, reevaluate if it seems like Tim's not moving on from the Tolovi shit, see if they can figure out something else.
But for now, it's a plan.
And Jason can work with that.
