Chapter 6
AN Enjoy. :)
Dean, instead of going back to the motel room like he had planned, makes a 'quick' pit-stop at the bar he told Sam he was going to.
A few hours later finds him piss-drunk and downing another shot of whiskey.
He doesn't really know why he thought it was a good idea to tell Red Robin of all people the secret he's been toting around since he was eight. Another shot of whiskey wipes the thought from his mind.
Another two and he's out the door of the bar, walking back to the motel with a slight slur in his voice and a small shuffle in his step, which is impressive, considering he drank about a half a bottle of whiskey in under four hours.
Sam is sleeping when he gets to the motel room, and he makes sure to keep quiet as he closes the door and moves over to his bed, the one closest to the door, and sits on the edge.
He sits there for longer than necessary, simply watching his brother's even breaths, wondering when his small lie to not confuse his baby brother became such a big secret, when it's become something with the potential to hurt him.
He wonders when their lives, dying, being brought back, fighting Lucifer and occasionally teaming up with the king of hell, being best friends with a fucking angel, became normal. When things like gods and angels and leviathans stopped shocking him, when it just became something else in the long list of monsters that they've fought and won against. He laughs then, quietly enough not to disturb his brother, and flops backwards onto his bed, rolling over onto his stomach a moment later.
He lays there and laughs into his pillow, he ignores the tears that are soaking into the fabric, ignores the pain in his stomach that makes him want to curl into a ball, and he simply laughs.
What he doesn't see is when Sam does wake up, when he turns his head to check on his brother, and finds him laughing maniacally into his pillow, finds his hands fisted into the blankets beside him, his body taught as a string.
He contemplates saying something, alerting him to his presence, but he knows that Dean would play it off as him being drunk, but Sam has seen enough drunk Dean moments in his life not to believe that. He knows that there is something wrong with his brother. He knows he's hurting, he just doesn't know why.
So he lays there, he waits for Dean to get whatever it is out of his system, waits for him to fall asleep, and then goes back to sleep himself, withholding dozens of questions as he drifts off.
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Red Robin is just finishing up his patrol for the night, his mind still occupied by the man from the park, the one he was following because he was lying about being an FBI agent, and because he was working the case that Bruce and Jason are currently working.
He can't seem to get the encounter out of his mind, how the man knew he was there, told him a secret. He doesn't know why he can't forget it, but it's been nagging at the back of his mind at every corner, every thug he's beat up tonight, every drug dealer he's gotten arrested.
He's distracted as he dismounts his bike in the Batcave, he's distracted when Bruce asks his how patrol went, and he's distracted while he showers the night off.
So distracted, that instead of going to bed, like he usually would after a late patrol, he goes straight to the Batcomputer and pulls up his cowl-cam from the night. He knows that Bruce and Jason are watching him closely, he knows that they can sense something off with him, so he beckons them closer.
"There was this guy, I was following him because he showed up at the newest crime-scene for the case you guys have been working together. Him and his partner were posing as FBI agents, so I followed him to a park, it was before I was supposed to start patrol, I had time. He told me something, he knew I was there, and I can't get it out of my head, it's been distracting me all night and I-I want to help him, and I don't know why. We all know that fake FBI agents usually means nothing good, but I just, I don't know. You guys look, I need a second opinion" Tim says, knowing that it's been a few days since he's gotten any sleep, and that it might be throwing his judgement off, could be why he's so focussed on this guy.
He shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair before he hits play, skipping through the parts with him running across the rooftops, and stopping when he gets to the crime scene that Bruce asked him to check out earlier.
They watch as the two men show up, flash their badges, which as Tim's cowl zooms in, they can see are fake, and move onto the crime scene. They are surprisingly professional for fake FBI agents, and they seem to actually be looking through the scene for something. The older one runs his fingers through a yellow-ish substance, sniffs it, and then calls his partner over. They ask the cops a few standard questions before getting back in their car and taking off.
Tim skips the bar visit and their dinner, knowing that it isn't important, before stopping when they get to the motel.
It cuts to just audio when they close the door behind them, and the older one changes quickly out of his suit and into jeans, a metallica tee, a flannel button up with his leather jacket on over top, finally lacing up a pair of boots similar to the ones that Jason wears, before telling his partner that he's heading back to the bar.
"This is where it gets weird" Tim says as he shuts the motel door behind him, laughing as he goes, but the smile seemingly melts off of his face as he turns around, shoving his hands into his pockets and ducking his head down.
He stays that way as he takes short cuts and alleyways all the way to the abandoned park on Miller Street, they watch as he chuckles a little at the overgrown park, before pulling out a pocket knife and cutting through the vines keeping the gate closed.
He pushes it open a moment later, walking in, followed closely by Tim.
They watch as Tim slides into the shadows of the trees, the man now laying down between two picnic benches, a few moments pass in silence before the man speaks up, surprising Bruce and Jason.
Jason recognises the park, and he's got a sick feeling in his stomach, but he let's none of it show, instead shifting slightly on his feet as he watches, riveted.
"You know, i'm not sure who you are, but if you aren't here to kill me, I would appreciate if you would just come out and talk to me. If you are here to kill me, same offer really, come out and try, I hate the suspense." the man says, tipping his head towards where Tim is standing against the fence.
"You aren't FBI" Tim leads with, a note of suspicion in his voice.
"You're Red Robin" the man replies, obviously not having expected that as he pushes himself to a sitting position.
"How'd you know I was following you?" Tim asks, not answering anything.
"You're not the first person to follow me. Why are you following me though, you don't seem like you wanna kill me or anything" the man says as he shifts so that he's leaning against the bench of the picnic table.
"Why did you come here? It's odd for someone posing as an FBI agent to come stargazing at an abandoned park, especially because you knew exactly where this place was, and you didn't have directions on you" Tim asks.
Bruce looks over at his son as he draws a sharp breath in, his face pale and his eyebrows furrowed as he watches the exchange.
"Can you keep a secret?" the man asks, obviously not intending on answering Tim's question.
"It depends" Tim replies, wanting to keep the man talking, but not wanting to commit to anything.
"That's good enough for me" the man answers, chuckling.
"I was born here, not this park, Gotham City. I had a twin brother, have? i'm not sure really. We didn't know anything about our father and our mother was a junkie, lots of abusive boyfriends. Anyway, we spent a lot of time living on the streets. When we were eight, we got arrested and separated. I got adopted by our biological father and his wife, and Jason disappeared. I haven't been able to find him since, my step mother died in a fire when I was nine. My father sacrificed himself to save my life a few years back, and I have a baby brother, who doesn't know that one, he's technically my half brother, and two, that he might have another half brother somewhere. He keeps asking me why i'm acting weird, and I don't know how to tell him that it's because I still feel like half of me is fucking missing, because I have a twin that he knows nothing about. That i'm adopted, that neither me or our father ever told him the truth. And to answer your question, i'm in this park, because it's where me and my brother were hanging out a few hours before we were arrested and I never saw him again." the man answers.
"Fuck. fuck." Jason mutters, and Tim hit's pause on the recording as him and Bruce turn to look at him, concern etched into their expressions.
"Hit play, fuck, hit play. Now" Jason growls, his hands digging into the back of Tim's chair.
"What's going on Jason?" Tim asks, but Jason just turns to glare at him.
"Hit. Play." he growls, shaking the chair a little with each word.
"Yeah, okay" Tim answers, turning back to the screen and hitting play.
"Why are you telling me this?" Tim asks as the man cracks an eye open, looking up at him from where he lounges.
"I don't have anyone else to tell, why not the vigilante who's been following me around the last couple hours? Besides, who are you going to tell? Batman? Not like he can do anything about it, not like he cares, not like you do either. You were following me because i'm not really an FBI agent, you're right, i'm not. I'm working a case though, there are things in the world that you don't want to know about. Those things are my job, I won't be causing you any trouble. I just wanna finish this case and get the fuck out of this city." the man states, pushing to his feet, stuffing his hands back into his pockets and then exiting the park, Tim stays behind, watching him walk away.
"Move. How the fuck could you let him walk away?" Jason asks as he pushes Tim lightly from the seat, planting himself in it as he begins running facial recognition on the man using a few frames from before it got dark.
"I don't know Jason, he was just some guy that I was following up with. Do you know him?" Tim asks, looking over at Bruce, who is sporting a concerned look on his face, looking down at his son, who is so tense that he's shaking, clenching and unclenching his fists on top of the desk.
He stays silent as he digs through his jacket, pulling out a picture that they had only rarely seen, and not since he was brought back. It's got lines through it from where it was folded in his wallet, and a few stains, no doubt from Jason constantly keeping it on him.
"Him, that's who he is." Jason says, jabbing his finger onto the face of the blond boy who has his arm slung around Jason's neck, a grin on his face, matching the grin on Jason's face as they both peer up at the camera, their too-long hair falling into their eyes and their heads tilted together for the picture.
"When I was eight, me and my twin brother, him. Got arrested for assaulting an officer, an officer who was assaulting our friend. We got enough good hits in to piss the cops the fuck off. When we got to the station they separated us, I haven't seen him since. I went to juvie for five months, and he went somewhere else. Everybody told me that I was making things up, that kids with no real names couldn't have brothers. I was eight fucking years old, I couldn't figure out how to prove that I had a brother. He left me a letter, but it didn't have enough information in it to find him. Apparently our real father found him, and adopted him. Took him to fucking Kansas. I've been looking for him since I was eight. Now he just comes out of fucking nowhere, apparently with another brother in tow. What the fuck?" Jason mutters, slamming his hands down onto the desk, causing the contents to jump a few inches into the air before clattering back down.
"Calm down Jason, we can figure this out" Bruce starts, but Jason is too worked up for that.
"Calm down? Yeah, I'll get right the fuck on that dad. I'll just calm down, like my fucking twin brother, who I haven't been able to find since I was eight fucking years old, didn't just walk into my city and then disappear again. Fuck!" Jason says, this time digging his fingers into his legs, gripping hard enough to leave bruises.
"He didn't disappear Jason. He's still in the city. We have facial recognition running, Bab's can track him across the fucking world now, we won't lose him" Bruce reassures him, settling a hand onto the back of Jason's neck, which has an instantanious effect on him, some of the tension melts from his body, his shoulders hunching forward as he turns his head to look back at his father.
"I can't lose him again" Jason mutters, and although he doesn't want to, he can feel tears stinging his eyes. He can prevent them from falling, but he knows that Bruce and Tim see them.
"You won't" Tim answers, rolling the chair that Jason's in to the side and taking over, easily pulling up where Dean went from the park, tracking him from the bar, where he stayed for a few hours, and then back to his motel room.
"He's at his motel. I'll go visit him tomorrow night, tell him to meet me somewhere. Okay?" Tim asks, concern marring his features as he looks over at his brother, knowing how much this means to him. He's never seen so much emotion, that wasn't rage, expressed at one time, especially in front of him and Bruce. The two last people that he decided to let back into his life, the absolute last people that he let himself trust.
"Okay" Jason mutters, drawing a stone cold mask over his face before he stands up, running his hand through his hair, tugging at it, hard, before letting go and spinning on his heel, although instead of getting on his motorcycle and leaving the cave, he goes to the steps that lead to the Manor, disappearing into the darkness a moment later.
"Jason has a twin brother" Tim mutters, looking over at his father, his eyebrows raised in shock.
"And I met him" he tacks on, shaking his head a moment later to clear the surprise, quickly pulling the chair back up to the computer so he can continue to work.
"Yeah" Bruce murmurs, looking over at where Jason disappeared up the stairs.
"Are we sure it's even really him?" Tim asks a moment later, looking up from the computer to stare at Bruce, waiting for an answer.
"We don't, but it isn't hard to find out. It wouldn't be the furthest one of our enemies has gone to hurt or kill us. It also isn't probable that that's what's happening." Bruce says, flitting between reassuring and decidedly not reassuring.
AN Thoughts? Good? Bad? Meh? Lemme know what you think. :)