Author's Note: For this chapter, see assumption number 1 from the author's note in the last chapter, for reasons why I'm writing Tim the way I am. I've enjoyed it immensely and am glad he's back in the story. So here's the second of the big reunions/meetings. I hope I did it justice. Please enjoy and review!
When he woke up, slowly at first, Jason had a strange disorienting sensation. It felt like he wasn't quite sure how much time had passed. He'd gone to sleep almost right after Damian, but hadn't there been an observation that it was almost dawn? However he could see only a minimal amount of light, and he felt like he might have slept a lot longer if something hadn't woken him. A noise. What was it? He blinked, sat up slightly, a little dazed, and stared.
"Dick!"
There had to be something else in supposedly-over the counter pain medication his brother had neglected to mention. Surely he must seeing things. Yeah, that's it. The young teen that stood in front of the bed had to a hallucination. He was just imagining the red, yellow, and green suit, the cape, the eyes hidden behind the lenses of a domino mask that he could have sworn were going wide. Was his imagination really... grinning? So Jason did what any self-respecting grown man would in the middle of a nightmare; he called for his big brother.
Dick's name ripped from his throat at the same second as the hallucination yelled, "I knew it!"
His brother bolted into the room at lightning speed, but Jason just kept staring at the boy who he was less and less sure was a product of his imagination... except that he had to be. Tearing his eyes off him, he watched Dick's face flash through panic, confusion, and then back to alarm and frustration as he quickly took in the scene before him. Why was he just standing there? He didn't even look worried that there was someone there masquerading in a Robin suit! The impostor, on the other hand, looked like he might explode from excitement. He seemed to almost bounce and... yup, he was definitely grinning.
"See!" he exclaimed at his brother before, to Jason's horror, turning his attention on him. "I told Dick you were alive. He didn't believe me, but I told him! It's such a huge honor to meet you, Jason!"
The pain from the gash in his abdomen and gun shot came back with a vengeful, and Jason thought he might actually pass out, but his head snapped up sharply. "You know this kid?"
Dick looked like he was considering cursing for the first time in his life, and the boy's excitement was momentarily replaced with confusion at the harshness in Jason's voice. And then – because no matter what he thought of it, Murphy's Law was a firm believer in him – Damian was padding over from the couch. The boy blinked his still-sleep-blued eyes at the three of them before frowning at the newcomer.
"Who're you?"
It was immensely satisfying to see some of the hyper-excitement drain from the importer. He stared back at Damian. "Who are you?"
The exchange was a horrible parody of the first meeting he'd had with the boy. When they had come face to face at the bottom of the stairs in Talia's mansion, and he had been shocked to learn that Damian was the biological son Bruce never knew about. He'd screamed at Talia for it, called her every vile name in the book for keeping the boy from their father. For this secret he had a sinking suspicion he knew who to yell at, and he hated it. Jason glared daggers at his elder brother.
"Explain! Now!" He demanded. "No, wait." He flung his hand so sharply in the fake Robin's direction that the young teen flinched as if struck. "Get him out of here, then explain."
"Okay, take it easy." Dick held up his hands in a calming gesture that only made Jason want to throttle him. But instead of complying, he turned to the youngest. "Damian, could you please go in the other room for a bit?"
That was not what Jason had asked for, but when the boy turned a questioning gaze on him, he nodded. He didn't want the child to witness the worst of his temper, witness him possibly murder Dick and whoever this new kid was. When he was safely out of sight – though most likely not out of earshot considering how Jason was feeling – he turned angry eyes on Dick.
"Now him."
"Jason," his brother said carefully, slowly stepping behind the young teen and placing both hands on his shoulders. "This is Tim Drake."
Was he actually supposed to care what his name was? He just wanted him gone! He wanted him out of that uniform, wanted Dick to stop pretending he knew this importer. The emotions raced through him so fast he could barely keep track of any other beyond his fury, but Jason thought he felt a twinge of... jealousy? That was absurd!
"And who the hell does he think he is? Or did I miss the part where it's Halloween already?"
If he wasn't so blinded by rage, Jason might have paid more attention to the look of hurt that passed over the boy's face. Slowly he reached up and removed the domino mask, which actually helped a little. Without it he looked almost like just some kid instead of a ghost. But that all changed with the next words that came out of his brother's mouth.
"He's Robin. The third Robin," Dick emphasized as if it was supposed to make a difference.
Jason thought he was going to be sick. He had to clench his fists to keep from doing something utterly destructive with his hands. "How long?" he gritted out, jaw set.
Dick took a breath. "About half a year after you... after you died."
Six months! It had take Bruce six fucking months to replace him! To just... forget he ever existed and get a new partner. As if reading his mind, Dick just shook his head and stepped away from the boy and towards him. He looked like he was considering touching him in some fashion, and then Jason wasn't sure if he could have restrained himself from taking a swing at his brother and possibly – hopefully – breaking the other man's jaw. It must have been written all over his face because Dick stopped just short of reaching for him.
"It's not what you think, Jay. Bruce wasn't looking for a partner. He didn't want one."
"Then what the hell is he doing in that suit?" Jason demanded. "Somehow I doubt the world's greatest detective missed something like a kid running around and calling himself Robin without his permission."
"But he needed a Robin," the boy chimed in, and Jason glared at him so hard the young teen almost backed down. If he bothered to, he might have been impressed that he hadn't. "Dick's telling the truth; he didn't want a partner at all. He didn't let me into the field for almost a year, but Batman needs Robin. He... he was broken after he lost you, reckless and violent. Someone had to be out there watching his back. I'm sorry..."
And then he kept talking. He said things, but Jason just couldn't pay attention. What did he mean 'broken'? What had happened to Bruce? What had that accursed city done to... to his father? Words were still coming out of the boy's mouth, and finally Jason just couldn't take it any more. He held up a hand and screwed his eyes shut.
"Dick, make him... make him stop."
The sound secede but the boy's mouth remained sprightly open. Dick looked at him with a mildly apologetic gaze. "Tim, can you give us..."
"No," Jason interrupted, swinging both legs over the side of the bed. "I just wanted you to make him stop talking. I need some air."
Actually he needed a smoke but lacking any cigarettes – or anything stronger; he was totally open at that point – air would have to do. Dick looked like he might argue. Jason rolled his eyes.
"I'm not gonna kill myself, so relax. Just gonna go up to the roof. That's it."
Initially – very initially when he'd been too young to understand the full range of the conflicting emotions people could have towards one another – Tim had been confused when the news came on and he saw someone who was definitely not Dick in the Robin suit. He didn't understand why or how it could have happened. It wasn't until he was a little older and more proficient at this detective work that he'd been able to learn more about the second Robin and the boy behind the mask. That was when he'd begun to understand that one can feel both happy and sad all at once.
Of course he was sad that Dick wasn't Robin anymore. He was sad once he learned where Jason had come from and how horrible it must have been for him growing up near Crime Alley. But he was happy too, happy that Jason was somewhere better now, that he'd been taken in by someone as amazing as Bruce. Jason's tale had started out sad but surely it would have a happy ending. There was no way it couldn't. Tim was young then.
When the perfect story had shattered, Jason became something else. Despite his best efforts, Tim had never quite been able to verbalize what that had was for Bruce and Dick – an indescribable loss, a lesson, a personal failure, a tragedy – but to Tim he was a hero. Dying had only immortalized him thus in the young teen's mind. He'd never know the second Robin the way he'd come to know Dick, never learn that he'd also been human. The story was finished, and a hero was all Jason would ever be.
Except that the story was not quite over yet.
He came up to the roof against Dick's advice. Actually Dick probably would have tried to stop him if he didn't have his hands full with the other boy, Damian. That was not something Tim had expected. He'd expected Jason to show up alone, if he managed to get far enough away from Ra's' army. That he'd come with this child, the son Talia had apparently kept from Bruce all these years, troubled Tim, though not nearly as much as Jason's violent reaction to him. Heroes didn't act like that... of course he knew that Jason had been through a terrible ordeal, but still...
The hero in question sat it on the ledge of the roof just a few feet away from where Tim had stepped out. There was only a jacket thrown over his bandaged torso and the feet that poked out of the haphazardly pulled on jeans were also bare. His hands rested on the ledge on either side of him. He didn't bother to look up when Tim cautiously approached, but to the teen's surprise he did speak first.
"You changed."
Tim briefly wondered what he meant when they'd never met before but quickly realized that Jason was talking about what he was wearing. He'd changed into civilian clothes that he always had on hand. It had distressed the young man so much seeing him in the Robin suit – completely unsurprising, now that Tim bothered to think about it for two seconds – that he figured this was better. It seemed he'd been right.
"I'm sorry." He said. "I should have thought..."
"You didn't." Came the curt cut off.
"I'm sorry." Tim bowed his head but took a seat on the ledge only about a foot away from Jason. The man didn't move. Encouraged, he tried. "Can I talk?"
"Whatever floats your boat, kid."
Jason's tone had an eerie detachment to it, and Tim didn't know which scared him more: that or the anger. It reminded him quite a bit of Bruce when he was trying to fight off whatever internal demons plagued him. He'd observed him at those times from a safe distance, and it always seemed to him that underneath it all, Bruce was afraid. Afraid that if he gave any action or voice to what he was feeling, he'd drown in it and take others down with him. Maybe that's what Jason was like too. It's okay, Tim thought with determination. He'd show him there was nothing to be afraid of.
He talked for a long time. About how he'd figured out their identities to begin with, how he tried to convince Dick to be Robin again, how Bruce had finally let him train but had not actually let him put on the suit for a long time. He talked a little about the Teen Titans. When he told him that his father was still alive and that his mother was murdered only after he'd begun his journey towards becoming the boy wonder, Jason humphed but still said nothing. He mush have just assumed Tim was an orphan from the start.
"I used to think so, too." The teen confessed before catching himself. "Sorry. I meant... when she was murdered, I thought that maybe it's something that... that had to happen to all of us before we became what we are."
Jason swallowed. No doubt he was thinking of the loss of his own parents.
"That was the first time I thought of quitting." Tim went on. "You convinced me not to." Jason raised a brow, and he actually blushed sheepishly. "I used to... talk to you, to your old Robin suit. When I couldn't figure things out for myself or couldn't talk to Dick or Bruce, I'd talk to you. I don't know. It made me feel better."
It was probably a bad sign when Jason laughed and shook his head. It was probably even worse that his first sentence of any length to him was, "Kid, Arkham always has room for more."
"Sometimes I think we should all be committed," Tim quipped but then blanched, realizing that this might have been one of his not-thinking moments. "Sorry."
Jason cocked his head and looked at him – actually looked at him! – for the first time. He was frowning. "That's gotta be the tenth time you've apologized and we just met. Did you do something unspeakably horrible to me that I'm not aware of?"
Tim was stunned. These sentences were just getting longer and longer! "I don't think so. I hope not!"
"Then stop apologizing, kid."
The teen nodded, then, emboldened, added, "My name is Tim." Another raised brow. "Not kid. Tim."
Jason chuckled, not in the scary way. "Okay, Not-Kid-Tim, what did you mean when you said you told Dick I was alive?"
"Oh, that," Tim laughed. "I was there when you called the manor. Remember? About a week and a half ago."
Both brows shot up that time in genuine surprise. "That was you? Damn, what're the chances? And you put it all together from that one phone call?"
"No." He shrugged casually as if it was no big deal. "But it kept bothering me. I thought you sounded familiar. So then I got bored and started poking around the computer down in the cave and saw that Ra's was following something. A lot of it was just gut feeling. I guess I'm not really surprised Dick didn't believe me. You're not going to be mean to him about it, are you?"
"Huh, maybe you do know me," Jason fained nonchalance. "I'll think about it."