A Light in the Dark
A/N: Huge shout-out to my wonderful beta AlexSkywalker! Thanks for all the great reviews and please keep them coming. A lot of people have mixed feelings over what Dick did or were actually surprised by it. I am going by canon here as in Red Robin #1 Tim goes down to the Batcave to find Damian dressed in the Robin outfit and I even borrowed one or two lines from the comic, and it causes Tim to leave to go find Bruce on his own in the comic (but in my story he's taking a detour lol).
Just so it's totally clear, anything in this story, (the entire story, all chapters) between Tim and Jason is pure brotherly fluff NOT SLASH.
Please keep the reviews coming!
Chapter 13
Jason woke up about 6:30 in the morning and slowly trudged out to the kitchen. He had been up most of the night getting out of bed, walking out to the living room and waking up Tim only for him to get back to sleep and do it all over again an hour later. As Jason completed his journey to the kitchen he was met with the sight of Tim sitting at the kitchen counter trying not to fall asleep in his cereal. Tim's hair was messed up and he had bags under his eyes. He obviously hadn't gotten much more sleep than Jason did. They grunted their good mornings to each other, both far too tired and pissed to exchange pleasantries.
As Jason drank milk straight from the carton, Tim got up, grabbed a glass and slammed it down in front of Jason who glanced at it and continued drinking from the carton. The silence left things tense and Tim didn't like it.
"You look like you didn't get much sleep," Tim drawled in his sleepiness. Jason looked at Tim flabbergasted.
"Really," he sarcastically replied.
"Sorry," Tim mumbled, going back to his soggy cereal. Jason felt bad just looking at the shape Tim was in.
"It's alright, you couldn't help it," he grumbled and Tim didn't respond, probably out of embarrassment.
As Jason made himself some toast he noticed Tim staring off into space.
"What are you thinking about?" Jason asked.
Tim snapped back to the land of the living and just shook his head in response.
"I'm sorry, was that an answer? What. Are. You. Thinking. About? What's bothering you?" Jason sat next to Tim and tapped his arm.
"I need to get clothes and things from home but I'm trying to figure out how to do that without running into you-know-who-and-you-know-who-else."
Jason thought for a second and decided to make it easy on Tim. "I could take care of that for you."
Tim instantly felt bad. "No, it's ok, you've already done a lot for me."
Jason grabbed a notepad and pen and set it in front of Tim. "Write a list of what you need and where I can find it. I'll take care of it. Then try to get some more sleep, you look like shit." Jason disappeared into his room to, no doubt shower, shit, and shave as he called it. Still Tim worried.
"You aren't going to kill Dick are you?" Tim called.
"I might," Jason called back as he shut the door to his room.
A couple of hours later Jason was ready and he poked his head out to see Tim asleep on the couch. He went back into his room and got out his cell phone, calling the manor, hoping the right person picked up. Luckily he did.
"Wayne Residence," the crisp English accent of the butler sounded.
"Hey Al, it's me."
"Master Jason, so good to hear from you."
"Is Dick around the house right now?"
"Afraid not, sir, he went to Wayne Enterprises to take care of a few things."
"OK good, that's good. What about Short Shit?"
"If you are referring to Master Damian he went with to stay out of trouble as it was told to me. The young Master lately has been quite…um…"
"Yah, it's ok, I get it."
"Good, sir."
"Look Al, I gotta come over and pick up some stuff for Tim; can you please just not tell Dick I'm coming?"
"Very good, sir."
"Thanks Al." And Jason disconnected the call.
As Jason went back out into the kitchen he was grateful Tim was still asleep. Not wanting to wake him he grabbed Tim's list off the counter and left him a note that he had gone to the manor and would be back soon.
When Jason arrived at the manor, Alfred was there with a plate of his favorite cookies and a glass of milk.
"Damn Al, you know me too well," Jason said, as he took a quick seat to stuff the cookies in his mouth.
"I took the liberty of grabbing a bag for you to use for Master Timothy's belongings. How is the young sir?"
Jason held up his finger indicating he needed a minute as he washed the cookies down with milk. As Jason was about to speak Alfred handed him a napkin and indicated that he had a milk mustache. Jason smile and wiped his face. Damn Alfred always had a way, no matter what was going on, to make this place feel like home and that he was still a kid here.
"He's not good. Dick really hurt him; besides not listening to him, he took away the one thing Tim had left."
"Hmmm," Alfred hummed. Usually when Alfred did that either he didn't want to get involved or he agreed with you but didn't want it to be known, lest it hurt another one of his 'boys' feelings.
Alfred went over to the other end of the kitchen and set a Tupperware container full of cookies in front of Jason.
"For you both. I know cookies don't solve everything but-"
"But, it damn well helps," Jason smiled looking at the container hungrily. "Thanks Al, I'll try to save some for Tim, no promises though." Jason paused to flash a smile at Alfred which was returned. "I assume Dick and Damian are still gone?"
"Yes, however, they did not give me a return time. Do you need any help?"
"Nah, kid gave me a list with where to find everything but I'd better get started. Thanks Al!" As Jason grabbed the duffle bag Alfred got out and the younger man bounded up the stairs.
About thirty minutes later Jason was finishing up the list with his back turned to the doorway. He didn't hear the new arrival.
"How's Tim?"
Jason whirled around at the voice. Leaning on the doorway was Dick Grayson. His suit jacket gone, his tie loosened, and the top few shirt buttons unbuttoned. Despite his relaxed demeanor in the doorway Dick looked like he hadn't been sleeping…..Good.
"Oh, he's just great, just perfect," Jason started sarcastically. "You really did a number on him. Great job, Dick. You know I can't even get him to sleep for more than an hour!"
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not the one you should be saying that to."
"Well, if someone would let me talk to him!"
"HE doesn't want to talk to YOU! Get that through your head. Quite frankly, I don't blame him!"
Dick didn't have a response to that. After Jason put the last thing in the bag he advanced on Dick, but stopped short right in front of him. Jason couldn't stand the way Dick looked right now: relaxed, leaning on the doorway, and smug as shit.
"Ya know I could just…..AAAHHH!" And Jason punched the doorway right next to Dick's head.
Dick didn't flinch, didn't even blink. Dick wouldn't have blamed Jason if he sucker-punched him in the face.
Debating on whether or not he should take his leave, but seeing as Dick was blocking the doorway Jason sat down on Tim's bed. "You didn't even listen to him, plus you took away the one thing he had left. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I didn't mean to hurt him, but we are all moving on to other things; a fresh start will do Tim good. Look, I know you have issues with replacing people but that's not what this is about."
"Do you know how full of shit you sound? Do you? Doesn't Tim get to decide if a fresh start will do him good? Could you have at least told the kid first? He had to walk in on Short Shit wearing his costume, HIS costume of all things, and I heard that Short Shit was very fucking helpful in the situation."
"He knocked out two of Damian's teeth."
"Good. From what I hear, he deserved it."
"All the more reason for Damian to be Robin right now; he needs structure, discipline-" Dick stopped as he noticed Jason had his hand up, opening and closing it in a puppet-like fashion. Dick pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep sigh before continuing. "I was going to tell him, but he sprung this Bruce is alive stuff, so I didn't know how he was going to react."
"Ah, yes, and you just shot him down didn't you. Started making him feel like he was crazy."
"No Jason, I di-"
"Started blaming all of the losses in his life, that this was just one thing he couldn't accept."
"Jason, what proof does he have other-"
"He has tons of it! An entire flash drive full!"
"He didn't tell me!" Dick straightened in the doorway.
"You didn't give him the chance to, did you?! Told him 'enough, that's it, finite, thanks for playing'. You didn't listen to him. You tell him that you view him as your equal but then you shut him down first chance you get. You should really start practicing what you preach there, Dickie bird.
"Think of how it sounds Jason. Bruce is dead and-"
"And what, you don't think people can come back from the dead?" Jason stood and took a couple of steps towards Dick. "Do you know how much evidence he has, how much he has been working on this? This is possible, Dick."
Dick still stood there with a blank look on his face. This frustrated Jason further.
"He's got a lot to go on, Dick, and he is going to go out there and look for the answers he needs and-"
"He can't do that, it's too dangerous."
"Well it's not as if he didn't invite you to come along, Dick. Maybe this is what he is going to move onto, finding Bruce - and no, I'm not going to stop him, because if he's our equal then he will be just fine. The least you could have done was listen to the kid." Jason went back to the bed to pick up Tim's now full duffle bag.
"Fine, can you send me over the files he has on the flash drive?" Dick asked in a secret hope that it would make Tim think twice about going out there alone.
"I don't know. Are you up to something? I'll think about it, but the kid usually has a death grip on the thing. But you have to admit it, Dick, you screwed up and screwed up big. Because he's not sleeping, he's having nightmares, moping around, scared as crap about ever coming back here or talking to you again."
Dick looked like he was about to cry. "I never meant to hurt Tim."
"Well, the kid just looks like he's given up hope because he has to chock up two more losses in his life, the last two things he had: being Robin, and you, because he can never trust you again….brother." Jason emphasized as he walked out of the room and shoulder checked Dick on the way out.
This angered Dick and as Jason walked down the hall Dick called out to him.
"Why Jason?" Jason stopped but didn't turn to face Dick. "Why do you suddenly care?"
'Is Dick purposefully trying to piss me off?' Jason thought as he slowly turned to glare at Dick. He wasn't going to give the older man the satisfaction of losing it in front of him.
"I'm sorry, do you mean before or after everything I did for him here?"
"I mean after you sucker-punched him and kicked him in the back."
Jason took a deep breath and looked at the ground before looking back up at Dick. Oh yes, Dick was definitely pushing his buttons, anything to take the blame off himself. Jason dropped the bag to the ground and took five long but quick strides up to Dick which caused the older man to straighten up and step out of the door, putting his arms up in case Jason decided to make a move.
Jason got as close to Dick's face as he could.
"I care because I'm the one he ran to. I am the one he is staying with and I am the one who has to look at the kid's defeated face like he has no purpose because YOU took it away from him!"
Jason then turned on his heel, grabbed the duffel bag and headed downstairs where he grabbed the cookies.
"Thanks Al," Jason said as he headed to the door.
Damian sat on the couch and acknowledged Jason. "Well Todd, it seems-"
"Damian, I swear to God, if you utter one more word you will be talking out of your asshole for the next week." And he slammed the door behind him before Damian could respond.
On the drive home Jason was fuming at Dick's audacity at trying to turn things onto him, after everything he'd done to try and help, instead of Dick just taking responsibility for what he'd done. Besides fuming, Jason also knew he was tired from getting no sleep the night before and had every intention of taking a nap when he got home. The kid had better not bug him.
Jason walked up the outside stairs to his apartment with caution as he always did. He did this not only because it was one of the worse areas of town, (though not the worst by far), but also because you never knew when someone might have discovered his little secret. The kid staying with him just added to the pressure.
The first thing Jason noticed was that it was quiet. The apartment next door to Jason, the only other apartment upstairs for that unit building was empty, so Jason expected to hear Tim about the place- the TV on or music playing or something- but there was just nothing.
Jason shifted the bag onto his other shoulder via the strap on it and fished for his keys with his left hand while feeling for the gun in the back of his waistband with the other. Jason slowly put the key into the lock and pressed his ear to the door. At first he was met with the familiar silence, then he heard it. Whimpering, someone calling or something. "No! Stop! Please! Wait, wait!" The calling turned to shouting then sounded somewhat muffled like someone was trying to shut the voice up. Jason knew that voice shouting, then muffled. It was Tim's. Tim was in trouble? Wasn't he? Jason didn't hear another voice inside or any movement either.
Jason burst through the door and luckily was met with the sight of Tim asleep on the couch, but in the middle of another nightmare. He had turned somewhat and the pillow was partly muffling his cries and whimpering. Jason plopped the bag down on the ground and called out to the young boy.
"Tim, I'm home! Wakey, wakey!" Nothing. Jason kicked the end of the couch a few times as he so often did at night when having to wake Tim. Jason then went into the kitchen.
"Tim! Come on man! Time to wake up, let's go!" Jason noticed that his note he had left Tim on the counter had moved from where he originally had left it and that there was an empty glass of what looked like milk on the counter. So Tim had been up at some point. A giant yawn followed by a stretch escaped the larger man's body and reminded him of how tired he was, but he knew he wouldn't get any sleep with Tim crying out like this.
"Tim! Tim! Come on man, I'm tired! Wake up!" Jason grabbed a beer from the fridge, opened it, and downed about half of it in one go. Jason hoped a beer would calm his nerves enough to help him deal with Tim and then get some sleep.
As Tim rolled back over onto his back Jason was able to get a better view of him. Tim was pale and sweating pretty bad. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead and sweat spots had formed down the front of his t-shirt. Yet despite the sweating, Tim appeared to be trembling as if he was cold….. or was it fear? The boy also appeared to be reaching out for something.
Tim continued to cry out "No! Wait! I'm sorry! Don't hurt him! Don't! Con! Conner! Wait! Help!"
Ah, so this one was about Conner. Jason tilted his head back and finished his beer, setting the bottled on the counter as he slowly approached the tortured boy.
"Help! I'm sorry! Con! Please! Come back!"
Jason's heart clenched at that. Tim had lost a great many people, all within the last two months. Jason cautiously kneeled by Tim's head. He didn't want to frighten him and get hit. "Tim! Tim, wake up Tim, it's Jason!"
Tim had turned on his side, facing Jason at the sound of his name and the hands that were reaching out found Jason's jacket and proceeded to clench at it, thus having a death grip on it. Tim's eyes fluttered wildly underneath the eyelids but did not open.
Tim was just whimpering now. Jason tried leaning back a bit to see if Tim would let go of his jacket, but the boy didn't. Jason then slowly started to take off his jacket to get out the grip, but upon getting out of the last sleeve he realized that Tim's right hand actually had a grip on his shirt, not his jacket. Jason then decided to sweet talk his way out of this.
He was reaching up and smoothing Tim's hair back out of his eyes and off his forehead when Jason realized something. Since Tim had grabbed onto him for dear life the crying out had stopped and there were only a few sporadic whimpers. Well, this made up Jason's mind for him. He didn't care how this looked; he was tired, damn it, and needed to get some sleep.
Jason kicked off his shoes. Luckily, Jason had a deep couch so he shifted Tim back a little bit which earned him the boy's left hand coming up and gripping his shirt along with a whimper.
"It's alright, Tim, go back to sleep," And Jason lay down next to Tim. Tim's smaller hands were buried in Jason's shirt and in order for Jason to fit on the couch and be comfortable to sleep he had to put his right arm around Tim's head and shoulders as Tim lay on his side facing the older man. The larger man's arm was essentially acting as a pillow for the smaller one's sweat-soaked head. Yeah, this definitely looked bad, but oh well; Jason was tired and Tim was finally quiet and somewhat at peace with Jason next to him. If only that peace would last, but Jason knew that it wouldn't.