Three.

Jason called in some favors, so that the apartment's fire detector would send an alert strait to the local fire department. He didn't want there to be a delay between the start of a fire and the building's alarms picking it up, not if it could mean Tim's life. Jason makes sure Tim knows about the alterations to the alarm system, because he tries never to lie to Tim; if he did, he'd be no better than Bruce, and he doesn't want to be anything like Bruce if he can help it.

Redirecting the fire alarm turns out to be one of Jay's better ideas, because just about a week after Alfred starts teaching Tim to cook, there is a series of small oven and stove fires from Tim losing focus while he's cooking. The first time the local fire-crew shows up, Tim answers to door with a sheepish expression and a sheet of charcoaled-cookies in his oven-mittened hands.

After about the fourth call or so, the local fire department's crews start getting into little squabbles over who GETS to go check on Jason and Tim's apartment when an alarm goes off. A few of the firefighters have a little bit of a crush on Tim (with his shy demeanor, stuttered apologies "for the inconvenience," and his big blue eyes). None of them would actively pursue Tim though; in part because they the guy Tim lives with is kind of terrifying (and possibly the kid's boyfriend), and in part because there's something just… off… enough about Tim that it would seem like taking advantage.

The firemen (and women) that don't actively have a crush on Tim see him as something of a little brother, a child who needs their care. A few of them even question Jason's motives, his relationship with Tim. The kid's obviously got some issues, they say, do you really think what you're doing is appropriate? Can he even really consent?

Jason is defensive at first; annoyed that he's being so obvious about his feelings that people who have met him a handful of times can see it. He gets that these guys are actually good people. They take their duties as public servants seriously, and they're truly worried that Tim might not be safe. He still doesn't like it, and he'd rather they just drop the subject. So Jason tells them the truth; there is nothing going on between Jason and Tim that would require the ability to consent. He figures, they will either believe him or they won't; if they don't, well, they'll just have to suck it up and ask Tim if he feels unsafe.

It isn't hard for Jason to notice that Tim likes these well-meaning big-brother types a little less than the other firemen though he tries not to show it, because that would be rude, and Tim avoids rudeness at all costs. Jason pretty much can't blame the kid, he doesn't like them much either. Jay thinks Tim probably likes them less because they remind him of Dick. (Dick, who hasn't shown up even once since Tim got out of the hospital. Even though he claimed Tim was still his little brother, and that he would always love him. If Jason sees Dickiebird anytime soon, he's gonna deck him on principle for abandoning his so-called baby brother. So maybe Jason's projecting here.)

One night, the sixth time the department's been out in just over a week, Jason walks in on what is possibly both the funniest and saddest thing he has ever witnessed. There are three members of the GCFD standing outside the apartment when he walks up, all wearing looks of utter shock and confusion. They are covered by the detritus what may have once been blueberry muffins, before they were burned to a crisp. Muffins, both whole and in pieces, lie on the floor surrounding the men and, Jason notices, the muffin tray is a few feet from the nearest fireman. He is sporting some shiny looking burns on his hands, probably from trying to block the fresh-from-the-oven metal pan as it flew towards his face.

The three men greet Jason in the vague fashion of people suffering from shock as he picks the still-warm muffin sheet up off the floor.

"So," Jason tries to keep the amusement from his voice, it may or may not work, "Wanna tell me what you did to piss him off?"

The man with the burns, the unit leader, blinks at Jason for a moment before answering, "We just wanted to make sure he was safe. I mean… you can hardly blame us for worrying about a person with his… difficulties."

Jason nods and tries to look sympathetic, tries not to laugh. Tim doesn't take well to people insinuating that he is incapable of anything, so Jason had Tim would get a little pissy at the idea that he was being taken advantage of. He hadn't quite imagined that Tim would start throwing muffins over it, so that's just a bonus. Jason thanks the men for their time and bids them goodnight before heading inside to see if he can catch his Tim in the midst of a fit of righteous fury and listen to a rant about Tim's perfectly-adequate-thank-you-very-much ability to take care of himself.

What Jason doesn't expect to find is total darkness. Every light in the apartment has been shut off, and all of the drapes have been pulled to block the light pollution of the city. Jason has never been so glad he was trained to work in total darkness as he is making his way toward the master bedroom. As his eyes adjust to the infinitesimal amount of light, he can just make out the lump under the covers of his bed.

"Tim," Jason calls cautiously from the doorway. Tim sometimes forgets where he is, who he is, and reacts to everyone as a threat. Jay would rather not have another knife go through his shoulder, thanks.

The lump moves a little, and Jason is horrified to hear a sob escape the pile of blankets. He is on the bed in an instant, his own safety be damned, pulling the shaking form of his little bird into his lap. Tim immediately buries his face in Jason's shoulder, and another wet sob forces its way from the boy's throat.

"Tim. Timmy, sweetheart," Jason tries to pull Tim's face away from his shoulder with little success, "Tim, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong. What happened Tim? Why are you crying, Tim, what happened."

Stay calm, Jason reminds himself, you can't calm him down if you aren't calm. Keep saying his name; remind him that he is Tim, not the construct that the Joker built, not JJ. Get him talking, find out what triggered the episode. All of the things the psychiatrists and therapist have taught Jay over the years, all the tools they've given him to help keep Tim safe, are playing on a loop in his brain as he tries to shift the boy's face away from his shoulder once more.

This time, Tim follows Jason's coaxing hands. Tim's eyelashes are clumped together with his tears, his face puffy from crying; snot is running from his left nostril towards his mouth but he makes no move to wipe it away. When Tim blinks a few last tears are squeezed from his eye and roll toward his chin. As Jason brushes the tears away with his thumb, Tim reopens his eyes.

"What happened, baby?" Jason keeps his voice soft and level, and he begins to rub soothing circles on the boys too-thin back. Tim sucks in a deep breath that hitches with the remains of sobs, brings his hands up to grip Jason's shirt, and drops his eyes.

"I—they, th-they…" Tim stops and takes another huge breath, this one less shakey than the last, before trying his explanation again.

"They, the firemen, they came in like they do… when I forget stuff?"

Here Tim meets Jason's eyes for a split second, assuring that Jason is following his train of thought. When Jason nods, Tim continues his story, "They came in, and Larson, you know Larson the—the unit chief? He said. He said he had been wanting a chance to talk to me. That he was worried about me, and I thought. I thought he meant because of the fire alarms? Because I keep setting them off with the oven and the iron and stuff; so I said that that was what he was here for, to keep me safe."

Tim looks at Jason again, when Jason lets out a snort, and smiles sheepishly at his joke before continuing to recount the evening's events, "And he didn't laugh, which is fine, because I'm not great at jokes. But then he says, 'This is serious Timothy. We think that your current living situation is unsafe.' And I just… I just didn't know what to think Jay, and I asked him what he meant."

Tim sucked in another breath and his words began to gain speed and volume as he recounted more and more upsetting memories of the nights events, "And he says, 'That fellow, Todd? How long have you been dating him? Since before you were hospitalized, or after?' And I told them, that we didn't really know each other until I got… until I had to go to the hospital, and he started getting the mad look."

By this point Tim has started shaking again, and Jason considers telling Tim they can go over it later to avoid letting the boy work himself into another crying jag. When Jason next sees Tim's eyes however, he is met with cold anger, not fear or sadness. Jason nods for Tim to continue, Tim needs to get this anger out before it festers.

"And Larson's partner, Whittemore buts in and says, 'Is Todd forcing you to do anything, is he making you do stuff you don't wanna do? We can get you somewhere safe.' And I got so mad, and I felt sick to my stomach and I didn't think, I just told them all to get out. I think I yelled at them… I don't… I don't really remember what I said. I was just so mad. And I was throwing the muffins at them and they were trying to calm me down but I wasn't listening, I just kept yelling, and I ran out of muffins, so I threw the pan at Larson and slammed the door shut," Tim's voice has gotten steely and his grip on Jason's shirt has twisted the fabric in a way that it isn't likely to come back from. Jason just keeps rubbing Tim's back, alternating between larger and smaller circles, and trying to keep the boy as calm as possible.

When Tim has been silent for a few moments and it's clear he has finished talking, Jason is still confused as to how this led to Tim crying in the dark.

"So you got mad at them for implying that I'm a less than stellar guy," Jason starts trying to keep his tone light, and is met with a nod from Tim, "how did you end up crying though, sweetheart?"

Tim opens his mouth for a moment before closing it again. He looks at the sheets, at the dresser to the left of the bed; he tilts his head back and gazes at the ceiling for a moment. The whole time, he continues to twist the cotton of Jason's shirt tighter and tighter around his thin fingers. After almost a minute of silence he finally looks back at Jason.

"I was really mad, at first," Tim starts, "but then… I realized –"

Tim cuts himself off and returns his gaze to the sheets bunched in his lap, so Jason places a hand under Tim's chin and applies gentle pressure until the boy is looking at him properly once more. Tim sighs, and starts talking once more.

"I realized, that… it's my fault people think mean things about you—" Jason tries to stop Tim there, but he boy release one hand full of Jay's shirt and uses the hand to cover Jay's mouth instead as he continues, "If I weren't sick. If I were… normal still, nobody would ever think you taking care of me was bad. But, now, since I'm all… messed up, they think you must be a bad guy. Because nice guys, normal guys, don't want to take care of someone this messed up. Not unless they knew them before they got messed up; and even then they don't really want to do it. It's obligation. And people are so closed minded, and I was just… frustrated." Tim stops again; he drops his hand from Jason's mouth, his body sags in Jason's lap, and exhaustion creeps into his features.

Jason's chest tightens as he tries to think of a way to counter Tim's interpretation of the situation. The problem is, Tim is smart, and he's right about this one. Or as right as he can be, without all of the facts. To outsiders Tim is broken, incapable of making decisions for himself, incapable of understanding the motives of the people around him, simply because he has experienced trauma, because he is mentally ill. Outsiders will never believe that Tim can make solid decisions regarding his personal relationships when Tim can't even remember to set a timer on the over, and they will always see Jason as a predator.

If Jason is honest with himself, they're right. He doesn't have any malicious intent, but that doesn't make his feelings for Tim acceptable by any means. People, other people, will never understand why Jason wants Tim. Because they can't see past Tim's illness to the brilliant, interesting, wonderful person he is. Because Jason shouldn't be trying to kid himself into believing that Tim's illness is somehow irrelevant to Tim's possible romantic relationships.

Jason pulls Tim tighter against his chest, winds his arms around the boy's small frame and just holds on. Tim brings the hand not still clutching Jason's shirt up and pets at Jason's hair. Jason presses his face into the juncture of Tim's neck and shoulder and breathes in deep through his nose; the scent of three-days-worth of sweat and the barely-there remnants of Tim's body wash and shampoo fill Jason's nose. He never wants to let go.

"I love you, Timmy," Jason whispers, lips moving against Tim's skin and muffling Jason's words. Tim clutches Jason tighter for a second.

"I love you, too, Jay," Tim's voice is soft but sure. Jason lets out a shuddery sigh.

"No, Tim," Jason pulls back, lifts Tim off his lap and puts him down on the bed. He rubs his hands over his face a few times, trying to psych himself up for the big reveal. Tim deserves the truth.

"Tim, I—I'm in love with you. I don't love you like a brother, or a friend. I'm in love with you. I have been since… well, since before you even got out of the hospital. I just… you need to know that. I shouldn't have lied, I should have told—" Tim cuts him off by placing a finger softly over Jason's lips for a moment before letting it fall. Jason swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dryer than it's ever been. He can't take his eyes off of Tim's, no matter how much he wants to hide from the boy.

Tim has his legs folded under him, his weight resting back on his heels. Tim reaches out and takes one of Jason's hands in both of his; Jason studies their entwined hands for a moment, tries to wait patiently for Tim's response. Jason's hands are broader, larger all around, with blunt fingers covered in a multitude of tiny scars. His nails are dirty, jagged; the warm olive of his skin is made darker by the near white of Tim's. Tim's fingers are long, slender, the flesh pristine; they were the fingers of a musician, before Joker broke them over and over, now they ache whenever it rains or its cold outside. There is flour under Tim's nails, blueberry juice stains his cuticles.

"I already knew that Jay," Tim's voice in the silence, as much as his words, startles Jason. When he looks up and meets Tim's eyes, the tiny crooked smile Jason loves so much has spread across Tim's face. His cheeks are still stained from tears and his eyes are puffy and still a little red from crying; he has snot drying and crusty under his nose and smeared across his cheek.

"I love you, too," Tim's voice is soft, but his smile stays in place.

"I know I'm kind of a mess most of the time," Tim holds up a hand to stop Jason's protests, "but I know that I love you. And I know you love me. I'm crazy, not an idiot."

Jason smiles back and laces his fingers with Tim's, squeezes softly, "So, what you're saying is… you're not going to move out because I'm a creeper?"

Tim lets out an abortive huff that Jason has come to recognize as the Tim-version of a belly-laugh.

"Basically," Tim deadpans, the effect is ruined, however, when a yawn almost immediately follows. Jason's take-care-of-Timmy instincts kick in almost before the yawn is over.

"You need to sleep, and I need to sleep, and…" Jason pauses to collect himself, climbing off the bed to stand, "this is a conversation that can wait until we're both well rested."

Tim snorts indelicately, but is already crawling up the bed toward the pillows. He flops down with a sigh, and Jason pulls the covers up to the boy's shoulder. He turns to leave, to head to the second bedroom where he should stay until they figure this thing out, but Tim grabs his hand.

"Jay," Tim's voice is already taking on the soft-slurring quality of near sleep, "stay here? 'Til I fall 'sleep?"

So Jason climbs onto the opposite side of the bed and lies down on top of the covers. As soon as Jason lies down, Tim grabs his hand again and draws Jason's arm over his body to curl around his waist. Jason means to let go, to get up and got to the other bedroom, just as soon as Tim's asleep. He does, really, but between one breath and the next, Jason himself is asleep.

Author's Note:

I'm not sure how soon I will be able to update Fires, as I am currently entering crunch-time with regards to my up-coming move. For now the series should be considered on hiatus. I still welcome any comments, feedback, corrections, etc. that people want to send regarding the series so far, and I will do my best to respond in a timely fashion.

I hope no one istooterribly disappointed by the wait, but I really need to try and focus on packing and being a 'big girl' for at least the next 2-3 weeks.

If I have some downtime (or get bit by a particularly insistent plot!bunny) I will try to get something ready for public consumption in both of them before I start classes August 20th.

Thank you in advance for understanding that RL sometimes gets in the way of fun things like writing fic! I adore you all!

Xs and Os,

dogsnameisfrank