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Someone was touching his face.
It took Kon a second to register that the touch was familiar. Gentle patterns were being traced into his skin, soft enough to not wake him up usually. Kon opened his eyes to be blessed with the most beautiful sight on Earth– Timothy Drake-Wayne smiling softly at him. It made him smile a bit sleepily, and neither spoke a word for a few minutes.
Behind Tim, Kon could see the alarm clock. It was already 7:12 am.
“Did you sleep well?” He finally asked, voice a little deeper than usual from the disuse and sleep. Tim blinked slowly, like a cat, then nodded before he tucked himself against Kon's warm body.
“I have never felt so well-rested in my life,” Tim admitted, and Kon chuckled as he pressed a kiss on the top of his head. “How long was I asleep?”
“I think you bordered on 14 hours,” Kon mused out loud, breathing Tim's scent through his hair. “Assuming you woke up at 7.”
“Mm.”
They stayed there in bed, just lying silently because that's what their relationship had always been like. They didn't need to speak to be comfortable. With each other they could relax, let the weight of the expectations of their roles drop.
“When did Bart and Cassie leave?” Tim hummed, placing his hands on Kon's waist so he could continue drawing patterns.
“I think an hour after you fell asleep?” Kon couldn't remember the exact time. “Bart was going to get take-out for me but Alfred said, and I quote, ‘We are not so inhospitable to deny our guests a meal.’ and then we had a feast without you.”
“That explains the insane growling of my stomach,” Tim laughed softly and silently and Kon couldn't help but think that this moment should last forever. A moment where Tim could be relaxed and happy for once, while in Wayne manor– it had not happened in more than a year now. A moment where Kon could hold him without worrying about his feelings because they were together now, and Kon was allowed to drop the weight of the world and just be at peace. To not have to prove himself to anyone, to just exist and be loved. “We should get ready and go down for breakfast.”
Kon hummed in agreement but neither of them made a move. He could see that Tim wasn't ready to face everyone, and Kon wasn't quite ready for the moment to end either.
“Did you have dinner with my family?” Tim asked, voice quiet and subdued now.
“Nah,” Kon let his eyes run over to the ceiling where Tim had stuck the glow-in-the-dark stars back when he was 15. “We couldn't bring ourselves to. Too much… bad feelings to not let it slip, you know? I know they are your family, but it's just hard to overlook.”
“I wonder if the universe gave me friends like you three to hold my grudges for me,” Tim was smiling, looking faintly amused. Kon snorted.
“Not our fault you forgive too easily,” Kon murmured. “Remember that time back when Young Justice was just formed and that boy got angry at you because his girlfriend flirted with you?”
“Fighting was really not the answer then, you know,” Tim looked at him pointedly.
“Yeah, but you gotta have some pride and self-respect, man,” Kon grinned. “And since you just let everyone walk over you… It's up to us to save your honour and dignity.”
“Oh, shut up,” Tim laughed, slapping him lightly. Kon had dropped the TTK when he woke up to Tim's touch, but the slap was so light that he didn't even feel it. “If you expect me to call you my hero, you're going to be sorely disappointed.”
“You don't have to say it,” Kon bumped his head closer to Tim's, leaning in for a kiss. “I know I'm your hero, just like you're mine.”
“And I know,” Tim pushed his face back with his whole hand and Kon pouted into it, “that your stinky morning breath is ruining this moment.”
“Alright, alright,” Kon sighed and sat up, letting the blanket slip off his exposed chest. He didn't remember where he had thrown his shirt and flannel overshirt, but he would find it later. “I'll go brush my teeth. Then will you deem me worthy of a kiss, Your Highness?”
“Not until I've brushed my teeth too,” Tim sat up, his eyes noticeably raking over Kon's body. The half-Kryptonian clone smirked and twisted his body so Tim could get a better look.
“Like what you see?” He asked in a teasing tone.
“Eh, I've seen better.” Tim didn't even stop looking while saying that.
“And yet you chose me, so what does that say?” Kon lifted his arms to show off his guns. Tim rolled his eyes.
“That I have terrible taste in boyfriends?” Kon squawked at that, making Tim laugh. “You know I don't mean it, right?”
“Um, duh,” Kon gave him a knowing smile. Tim's own didn't reach his eyes anymore.
“Hey, Kon?” He asked, voice quiet again. Kon hummed. “Thanks for being here.”
“You know you've always got me,” Kon let his voice be gentler, picking up Tim's hand. “Do you want to talk about what's been on your mind?”
“Yesterday was…” Tim paused and looked up at the ceiling, like he didn't know the right words. Kon just let him think through everything, his thumb stroking Tim's cold hand relentlessly. “You know I've forgiven them. Even though they hadn't apologized before yesterday, I forgave both of them. But I don't know if I could still promise them anything. Like, I'm not sure if that would fix anything.”
“It might,” Kon shrugged, “or it might not. The weight of your relationship doesn't lie solely on your shoulders, Tim. They will have to make an effort, too.”
“I know,” Tim mumbled. “I'm just not sure if it would be enough. If we can truly reach a point where the past will no longer haunt any of us. I'm not sure if I have it in me to try and hope like that, to open myself to getting hurt again.”
“You know you don't have to do anything, right?” Kon asked, his own voice quiet now. “You don't owe anyone anything, Tim. If anything, they are the ones who owe you so much. There's not a single person in this family who hasn't hurt you. Except maybe Cass.”
The last line was a thoughtful addition that made Tim give out a short breath of laughter. She was nearly done in Hong Kong, and he couldn't wait for her to return.
“What if I don't actually want this?” Tim whispered. Kon smiled to himself and lifted Tim's hand to press a soft kiss against the palm of it.
“You worry too much,” he advised. “Tim. We asked you a few months ago to ditch the Bats and join us. You said no. I'll ask you again right now. Has your answer changed?”
“I don't need to leave them to be with you guys,” Tim tried to explain.
“There's your answer, Rob,” Kon's voice was kind as he spoke. “You don't want to give up on them, or your relationship with them. They mean too much to you. Maybe more than they deserve, with how much all of them have hurt you, but you love them. I have a good feeling about this. You don't have to forgive them, or do anything you don't want to. But if you're worried that it will fail before you even try, then aren't you just scared of one possibility out of thousands?”
There was silence as Tim thought over his words.
“You really think we'll be fine?” He asked, voice small and unsure.
“I do,” Kon assured him, squeezing his hand gently. The rising sun was making the room brighter by the minute even through the curtains. “But I think I shouldn't be here when you have the talk with them.”
“You might end up starting a fight with someone,” Tim smiled at him. “And I have a feeling it would be Bruce.”
“I really don't want to die by Batman's hands,” Kon joked. “Or get my future father-in-law to dislike me that fast.”
“It's a bit too late for that,” Tim laughed, “He already dislikes you since Cass.”
“Oh, no, however will I fix this?” Kon exaggerated his pout just so that Tim would laugh a bit more. “I'll just freshen up and leave before breakfast then. Tell Alfred sorry on my behalf, yeah?”
“I will,” Tim nodded and finally got off the bed. He stretched and Kon took the moment to appreciate the band of skin it revealed at Tim's hips. He let out a wolf-whistle just because he could now and Tim stopped stretching to give him a tiny smirk. “Since we're both in a hurry, how about we shower together?”
“Hurry up, Tim!” Kon shouted from inside the bathroom that he had flown into so fast, he could have practically teleported.
Tim's laughter in response was his most favourite sound in the world.
❀
Damian had made his decision when he came back from patrol last night.
He had spent a long time guarding his own heart and feelings. A long time where he did not try to let Timothy in. It was time to rectify his mistake and so, he had decided that he would make a proper apology at breakfast.
Even if the clone came with him, Damian was not going to back out. He had thought over his words carefully before he went to sleep, and he knew what he must address. An apology could not fix any of what had already happened, but it could be the start.
Thankfully, halfway through breakfast, Timothy came down without the clone. Damian overheard him telling Alfred that the Super had left due to some work, and he let out a breath of relief he did not know he was holding. Of course, the clone's presence meant nothing, but Damian could admit to himself that he was worried. Timothy may not accept his apology if the clone were to interject with his own thoughts.
Dinner last night had not been peaceful. Father had tried to get the Titans to join them but Damian had witnessed first hand how their faces had tensed into cold glares, even though their words projected a polite refusal. It was obvious that they did not think well of them. And while Damian did not care about what the Titans thought of him or his family, the reality was that Timothy cared about their opinions.
Timothy smiled and laughed around the Titans, and not their family. Timothy had twice ignored the orders given by Father in favour of some unproved information given by the Titans. It was obvious that he held the Titans in great regard, and why wouldn't he?
When Damian thought about it, it just felt obvious that when Timothy was pushed away by their family, he would seek the company of those who wanted him. The Titans may not be impressive to Damian in any way, but it was undeniable that they certainly cared about Timothy and hadn't mucked up his trust by making mistakes like he had.
“Good morning,” Timothy's voice was light, and a touch cautious, as he took his seat at the breakfast table. Father immediately offered a greeting back, but Damian's mind was too full. There was so much he had to say and do. Richard entered the room but Damian's eyes were trained only on Timothy, who was ignoring them all in favour of building his omelette sandwich.
“We found the magician who cast the spell on you,” Father was the first to break the heavy atmosphere. Timothy looked up in surprise.
“That was fast,” he said, hands slowing down. “Where did you guys send him?”
“Juvie,” Richard piped up from beside Damian, his own hands working on a Nutella spread over his toast. “He's just a kid, so we told him that we would help him figure out how to use his magic appropriately, and until then, he had to stick around in juvie to make up for all the trouble he caused around town with his magic.”
Timothy's eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds and then something clicked.
“The vending machines and the museum fiasco was him?”
“Yes,” Father nodded. “You don't have to worry about the report. Rest well today, that is more important.”
Timothy looked surprised, but he nodded nonetheless. Damian swallowed the last bite of his breakfast, washed it down with the orange juice Pennyworth had placed and then straightened in his seat. He waited until Timothy had swallowed his own current bite before speaking.
“Timothy,” Damian began, and the table seemed to freeze at that single word. He ignored it in favour of maintaining eye contact with the boy himself. “Previous experience with magic dictates a high chance that you may not have any memories of your time under the spell. However, I still wish to apologise for a few things.”
“Apologise?” Timothy's mouth opened in what seemed to be shock. Like he never expected to hear that word from Damian's mouth. It made his chest hurt a little.
“Yes,” he admitted, eyes flicking down to his own lap in the slightest of shame. “I would firstly like to apologise for my behaviour when you were under the spell. I did not want you to remember the real nature of our relationship and took advantage of your temporary amnesia. Although it was not my intention, I found your folder of notes on me.”
Damian peeked up briefly to check how Timothy would react, but his face was devoid of any expression. Steeling himself, he continued.
“I apologise for this unintended invasion of your privacy,” Damian breathed out slowly. “I would also like to formally apologise for my behaviour from when I came to this mansion for the first time. I have been… I do not think any words of apology could make up for the fact that I tried on numerous occasions to kill you. I believed you to be a threat to my position and I disliked you immensely. I wished to remove you from this family by any means necessary, and in doing so, I have repeatedly hurt you in ways both physical and emotional.”
Everyone at the table was quiet, letting him speak and Damian couldn't help but fidget under the weight of their stares. Why was this so much more difficult that being made to kill in front of ten eyes without anyone noticing it is Damian doing it?
“I wish to let you know that I understand the wrongness of my actions,” he said, voice quieting a bit as he tried not to let his nerves show. “I do not expect or even dare to hope that you should accept my apology or even forgive me. I want to apologise so that you know I am aware of my mistake, and that I will do whatever is necessary for you to feel safer and more at home in the manor. I am making a promise to never hurt a hair on your head going forward. I have spent far too long viewing you as an enemy I need to take care of, while you repeatedly did your best to maintain peace. If there is any punishment you desire to give me, I will accept it.”
“I'm not going to punish you,” was the first thing Timothy said. Damian looked up, fists tightening on his own lap as he took in the way the older boy was awkwardly scratching his own cheek. “I'm… I'm glad you know that wasn't okay. I could have died because of your attempts. But I also know you're trying now, that you're learning and becoming better. You haven't come after me in a while, but it's good to know that you plan to not do that ever again.”
“You are either too kind, or too foolish, Timothy,” Damian's voice sounded weak to himself. Timothy's lips quirked upwards at his words. “How can you forgive an attempt on your life so easily? You must punish me in some way.”
“Why do you want me to punish you so badly, demon brat?” Timothy chuckled under his breath and started eating his sandwich again. “Fine, if you want me to beat you so bad, how about we have a sparring session before lunch? You better not hold back, cause I won't either.”
“If… If that is what you wish,” Damian couldn't help feeling upset. They already sparred without holding back. This was nothing new, which meant Timothy was not taking him seriously. Was he already too late? Or was Timothy taking him seriously and the spar was meant to be a session where he beat Damian up as punishment? It would have made sense back at the League, but this was not the League. And that was not how Timothy dealt with things.
“And we can talk about some of those pointers I noted down,” Timothy added with a small smile. Damian's eyes widened. “Which, by the way, I don't mind you looking at. The only reason I didn't show any of it to you was because I worried you would take it the wrong way.”
“You said you always wanted a little brother,” Damian suddenly blurted out. Timothy blinked. “I… I want… to be that. I want to…”
“Okay,” Timothy's expression softened and Damian wondered if he was maybe dreaming. It all seemed to be going too smoothly. Timothy should not forgive him so easily. Was this just a wishful dream? “Okay, Damian. We can be brothers if you want to. We can do all that other stuff I wanted to do with you too. Dick can make his own plans from now on.”
“Hey!” Richard pouted, “You were the one who offered. It was very sweet of you, though. I appreciate it. And I always thought in a way that your involvement in the planning of those outings meant you were a part of them too. An indirect bonding session between you two.”
Damian still had one more question he wanted to ask, but he wasn't sure if this was the right time or place. Somehow, Timothy seemed to understand by just one glance at him.
“Was there anything else you wanted to say or ask?” His voice was kind and Damian already felt embarrassed at being so… so vulnerable and open, but his curiosity did not let him let it go.
“Why… did you not choose to go with your Titan friends?” He asked, voice uncharacteristically small. Timothy blinked in surprise. “Jon told me a while back…”
“What's this about?” Father frowned and Timothy glanced towards him.
“My friends had asked me to join them full time,” he answered with a shrug. “To drop Gotham and live over in San Francisco.”
“Wait, when did this happen?” Richard was frowning too. “I don't remember you telling me this in any of our weekly sessions.”
“It happened just around the time we made up,” Timothy admitted. “They had asked me but I said no.”
“You did?” Father, who had looked scared for a brief second, now looked sad and unsure. Timothy looked at him for a few seconds.
“Were you worried I would choose them, Bruce?” He asked, and Father looked down at his lap in shame. Damian did not know how to take in any of this. Timothy seemed to remember his question, however, and turned to give him a small smile. “I chose to stay, Damian, because this is my home. And you are my family. Yes, there were many moments when I stopped feeling safe and welcome here, but… but I didn't want to give up on it. I didn't want to leave because I want to hope that we'll really be okay someday. It was a forever offer, though. If I ever lost that hope, I might have left.”
Oh.
If Damian had never realised, if Timothy had never been de-aged, if Todd or he had made a mistake, if he had never apologised because he never saw those notes…. Would they be sitting at a different table right now? One without Timothy, one where they would all be drowning in regret because they failed to know what was truly important?
“I have a feeling I won't ever have to do that, though,” Timothy was smiling at Damian, looking the faintest bit happy and relaxed and… proud . Damian did not think he deserved this. “You're finally becoming a true Robin, Damian. Because this is what Robins do. We hold the family together, and we keep everyone from pushing themselves too far from us.”
“Really?” Damian didn't know how to voice the feeling in his chest. Everything felt too tight and too warm and too… too much. But it also felt good in a way he hadn't known he could feel. Timothy was not the first Robin, nor was he the last. By no means was he the strongest of them, and he definitely was not the one to mark the legacy of Robin.
But he was the Robin Damian wished to be like. And he was the Robin who he wanted to make proud. Timothy was the Robin who Damian wanted to be accepted by, and if it was happening now, then who could blame him for feeling like heart would explode into a million pieces?
❀
Jason did not want to go over to Wayne manor. But unfortunately, Tim had stayed over at the mansion during his spell and after it too. If Jason wanted to apologise, then he couldn't make excuses. The longer he waited, the longer his insides would claw at him. He had made Tim wait long enough. He had betrayed him in the worst possible way, so what was a bit of discomfort in proportion to that?
Jason's insides clenched the whole ride over. In many ways, this ride was so much different than when he had made his way to Titan's Tower. Back then, the Pit had amplified his rage and jealousy, and he had actually felt excited at the thought of beating his ‘Replacement’. Now he felt sick to his stomach, like he would have to stop his bike to puke over the roadside.
Hopefully when Alfred opened the door, he could also help him feel better. Well, that's what he thought when he rang the doorbell to Wayne manor, but the person opening the door wasn't Alfred. Dick looked the faintest bit surprised.
“I thought you would be here in the evening,” he smiled at Jason and Jason didn't bother replying. He made his way in and when the door was closed behind him, instantly countered with his own question.
“Where's Alfie?”
“He and Tim have gone over to the Nest,” Dick answered as they made their way to the drawing room. “Alfred convinced him to stay over for a few days after Bruce tried to get him to stay so that we could ‘monitor any side effects.’”
He said the last part with a snort and Jason couldn't help the tug on his lips.
“He can never say anything straightforwardly,” Dick shook his head. “Anyway, Tim and Alfred will be back in an hour or so. Do you… want to watch something on the TV with me?”
“Uh, no,” Jason pointedly kept his eyes trained on the teapoy next to the armchair he had settled on. Dick paused from where he was about to settle on the couch, and Jason could see his brain working overtime to figure out if he should leave. “No, not like that. I don't want to watch anything but I want to… I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yeah?” Dick smiled encouragingly as he spoke softly. He sat down and Jason took a few seconds to just breathe.
“How did you know he would forgive me back then?” When he finally asked, his voice was quiet, with the barest hint of a tremble.
“Because,” Dick's eyes flicked away, a brief sadness in them, “he's my brother. In a lot of ways, Tim is the only brother I did right by. Damian's always been someone I run the line between brother and parent for. And I was not welcoming to you, before you… But I've always been a brother to Tim, and he has been mine. I was always there for him, until I wasn't.”
Jason could tell that Dick had a lot to say so he got comfortable to listen. Maybe this could help him understand Tim, to find out what to expect.
“When Tim came back and he was falling off that building and I caught him, he said that he knew I would always be there for him,” Dick's voice sounded like he was about to cry. “But I could tell he was lying. How could he know that, when I wasn't there for him? I hope he was going to call Kon before he reached the ground, because if he wasn't… I could have lost him. That haunted me on so many nights. I couldn't just let it be.”
“So what did you do?” Jason asked softly, understanding that this was something of a fragile topic to Dick.
“I talked to him. And I apologized to him. He told me I didn't need to, that he understands the place I was in and the responsibilities I had on my shoulder. It was relieving that he understood, but it didn't change the fact that I wasn't there for him during the worst period of his life. I hated myself for being a hero, for putting everyone else and this city over him. He's my family. But the right thing to do is to think of the greater good, isn't it?
“Tim told me that he supported my decision. That if he was in my place, he might have done the same. Because that's what it means to be a hero. And that I did what was my duty, while he did his. I couldn't understand how he could be so sure of everything. How he could just understand and forgive me so easily. He had to be lying. Tim swore he wasn't, and that if I couldn't believe that, then there was only one way to make me believe.”
Jason nodded, encouraging him to go on, but Dick was finally smiling again and not quite looking at him.
“He wanted Thursday nights with me,” Dick said. “He said that he just wanted us to be brothers again. That he knows things have changed, and so have our duties, but one night in the week that he wants with me. I promised him all my Thursdays. For the past whole year, we have spent that time building back what we had lost in that horrible time. There was a time when Tim would come to me with all his problems, all his doubts. I was afraid I had lost it, lost him forever. But then he started opening himself to me again. There's not much that I don't know about him. He's my brother.”
“So, did you know I was his…” Jason wasn't sure how to ask, and he hesitated. Thankfully, Dick didn't need to hear the whole thing to understand. Jason was, after all, Dick's brother too, though the younger of the two tried hard to not admit it.
“I had my doubts,” Dick admitted. “Back when you weren't here, you weren't brought up much because all of us were grieving. But in the rare moments he talked about you, I could tell there was something in the sparkle of his eye. After you came back, I saw that sparkle dull. But Jason, it's still not gone. It's still there, like a weak flame, hoping to be revived. I know Tim will forgive you because he already has.”
“That doesn't really sound conducive to his survival,” Jason croaked, feeling a little overwhelmed. Dick gave him a small, understanding smile.
“Tim is so much kinder than we give him credit for,” Dick said, voice quiet. “I didn't realise until a year ago just how deep it ran. When I was sure he wouldn't and shouldn't forgive me. He understands us so deeply that he doesn't need our explanations. But when I apologized to him, he said that it felt good to be acknowledged. Good to know that I knew I hurt him. That he didn't need anything else because he knew it wasn't my intention. That it didn't bring me any pleasure to hurt him.”
“What if it did? What if I did?” Jason felt horrible. Mostly because that was him, wasn't it? He was the sicko, the boy who came back wrong. The one who was full of anger and jealousy, boiling and turning an ugly shade all the time, that had derived satisfaction from beating a fifteen-year old like some kind of sadist. Even now, when the Pit had subsided mostly, he couldn't honestly say that it was all the Pit's fault. The Pit only amplified what he already felt. That anger and jealousy was still there– except, Tim had told him the reality of what happened after he died, hadn't he?
And now it was like the anger and jealousy had bled out somewhere, to be replaced by mind-numbing guilt. To make him feel like he was underwater, suffocating, because what he had only believed to be righteous was just… It was just him hurting an innocent boy. A boy who used to worship the ground he walked on, enough to walk in his footsteps to protect the man he once called his father.
No apology could make up for that. Surely even Tim wouldn't be able to forgive him after a betrayal like that.
Before Dick could respond, they heard Tim's muffled voice float over from the doorway along with Alfred's. Jason froze in his seat, feeling like if even breathed wrong it would all come crumbling down. Maybe he was not ready after all. Maybe he shouldn't have…
“Thanks for the help, Alfred,” Tim was saying as they reached closer to the doorway of the room Dick and Jason were in. “I can take it from here.”
“Of course, Master Tim,” Alfred's response was swift. “Are you sure a chocolate cake is all you want to ask for?”
“Alfred, I like everything you make,” Tim's voice was light, tinted with laughter. “My list would never end. Just make me a cake, and we'll call it even. You don't even need to do that, you know. I'm fine without the cake too.”
“But I want to, Master Tim,” Alfred hummed. They had paused in the doorway and the old man's eyes immediately snapped to Jason, who was trying to act like he wasn't listening in. “Master Jason, could you help Master Tim with taking his luggage upstairs?”
Tim opened his mouth to say something but closed it without saying a word. Instead he glanced at Jason curiously, who nodded hastily at Alfred's question and walked over to take the bag he was dragging. Tim gave him a small smile and jerked his head toward the staircase.
The two walked together in silence for a few seconds as Jason tried to put together how to begin talking. Tim wasn't making any attempt, humming a song under his breath as they walked.
“Was I…” Jason hesitated, but Tim glanced at him again, eyes shining under the hallway lights, and it felt… strangely supportive. “Was I really your favourite?”
“Huh?” Tim flushed the slightest bit, his pale skin contrasting instantly with the pink. “Seriously? That's what you want to start with?”
“It doesn't feel real,” Jason admitted with a shrug as they finally reached Tim's room. “But I know you were being honest. When you were this tiny, your mouth truly had no filter.”
Tim snorted at that as he pushed open his door and let Jason in.
“No filter?” He looked amused. “Jason, you truly don't know me at all. I wasn't keeping my admiration a secret, sure, but my thoughts are like a constant commentary by someone on three different types of drugs. I can't survive without a filter.”
Jason blinked and just awkwardly nodded because… well, how was he supposed to react to that? He instead focused on Tim's room and saw the bed, all crumpled and untidy, while his table had an open laptop surrounded by photo frames of his team.
“I'm sorry,” he blurted out, because if he didn't, he would keep overthinking it and never actually be brave enough to say it. Tim paused from where he was browsing the box he had kept on the bed and raised an eyebrow.
“What for?” He asked casually, like Jason had nothing to apologise for.
“I,” Jason wasn't sure. “For killing you…?”
“Woah, okay, you did not kill me,” Tim scoffed. “I'm very much alive here, thank you. But if this is about your attempt at my life, then I already forgave you long back.”
“Wait, kid you was right?” Jason couldn't help the incredulity in his voice. “How the hell do you not hate me, Tim?”
“I know, you make it so very difficult,” Tim sighed dramatically. He sat down next to the box and gestured for Jason to sit on the other side of the box. “Jokes aside, I really didn't want you to find out that you were my favourite. I knew it would only hurt you more when you eventually got over the Pit and I planned to take this to the grave with me.”
“Yes, well, the damage is already done,” Jason smiled weakly as he sat down too.
“Go me!” Tim fake cheered for himself blandly. “You don't have to apologise for that, by the way. You didn't know you were my hero, so it's not on you.”
“Of course it's on me, whether I knew or not,” Jason sighed, looking down at his lap. “You were a kid and I… God, I really tried to kill you at fifteen.”
“And you were eighteen, so what's your point?” Tim said a little snappily. “We've all made mistakes. It's fine. I got over it. I took over Robin after you died, you came back and yeah I had missed you, but I didn't want to give up Robin either. We fought, we beat each other up, I got my ass handed a tiny bit more than you did, and I was bitter. I understood what you felt but I hated that none of my dreams about you would come true because you hated me.”
“I really hated you back then, didn't I?” Jason spoke softly, like his words carried a fragility he wasn't made to handle. “I don't hate you anymore, Tim. I… I am sorry about how I took out my anger, jealousy and insecurity on you. I'm sorry it felt good to beat you up. I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to say all this until now.”
“Alright, alright,” Tim sighed. “Enough with the apologies. I didn't want so many apologies in a day. Really. I just… I just wanted you to make an effort. I just wanted us all to actually be a family. I was an only child and then when I became a Wayne, I thought I would get so many siblings. But everything went so wrong with you and Damian and I thought that our chance was gone.”
“Why do you even want to be brothers with me, kid?” Jason looked at him, incredulous. “Are you sure you don't need to go to therapy? This doesn't seem like a normal response to someone who tried to kill you.”
“It's been like, over 2 years to that,” Tim rolled his eyes. “Do you even know how much shit has gone down since? It feels like a decade ago mentally to me. I'm done lingering in the past Jason. We don't have to be anything. I'm not even promising you that I want to be a brother. But I just want to get to know you for real this time. I never got the chance to meet the Jason Todd I admired as a kid. But I knew him. The Jason Todd I have met, I don't know him at all. I want to know all the ways you're still the same, and all the ways that you have changed. I want to know you for myself and then decide if we're friends or brothers or something other than enemies on a polite truce. I want you to come back to the family, Jason.”
“You…” Jason was speechless. He hadn't known how to integrate himself back with the Bats. Jason hadn't thought that it would ever be possible. Mainly because he had hurt Tim, and Bruce was annoying, and Dick wouldn't want him back but… Right now, Tim was telling him that he wanted Jason with them. He could have his family back if he played his cards right. “I've killed people.”
“So has Damian,” Tim pointed out.
“I'm still killing people,” Jason shot back. Tim's face looked pained for a minute.
“You are,” he admitted, “and I can't say I agree with your methods, but even that is something I want to debate with you about. Avoiding us isn't going to do anything, Jason.”
“You are scared of me,” the words were out before Jason could stop them. Tim blinked.
“I'm not scared of you,” his voice was soft, but his eyes were sharp. “It's just hard to break habits and subconscious responses at times. I've spent far too long being wary of you and Damian, and those are habits I will need time to break. It's not something I can do in a day, but the more you stick around to show that you're not going to hurt me, the less it will linger.”
“Okay,” Jason nodded. Tim smiled.
He got up to continue unpacking his stuff. Jason watched him for a bit, then started helping him place the stuff around.
“You know, I really liked playing video games with you last night,” Tim said. Jason blinked and grinned at that. He had totally destroyed Tim's ass in the game. “I'm gonna destroy you now that I'm back to my usual body.”
“Hell nah,” Jason replied, “I'm gonna win again.”
“I'll have you know that I play it all the time with Kon and Bart,” Tim supplied as he finally finished placing the last of his clothes back in the closet. “But I won't waste my breath on convincing you. I'll just show you my real skill.”
That's how they ended up in the game room after ten rounds where Tim ruthlessly decimated Jason as payback for the night before. The look on Jason's face was totally worth it. Tim laughed so hard that he nearly pulled a muscle and had to tip backwards to lean on the couch.
“You're crazy,” Jason said with a smile of his own. “Seriously.”
“I've heard it all,” Tim murmured.
“You know,” said Jason, “you said not to apologise for betraying your hero worship, but, it was really one of those moments right? That thing about never meeting your idols or whatever. You must have been really disappointed. Don't think I didn't notice you saying I was your favourite. Who's your favourite now, though?”
“Black Bat,” Tim said without missing a beat. Right, the mysterious silent deadly girl who dropped by every now and then. Jason hadn't yet had a proper introduction but he could see why she was his favourite. She seemed to get along best with Tim, after all. “But you're wrong.”
“Hm?” Jason looked at him curiously. Tim wasn't looking at him, but at the ceiling.
“They say never meet your heroes because it leads to disappointment,” Tim's voice was quiet as he spoke. “But I think everyone should meet their heroes. Because then you get to know their flaws and mistakes and you stop putting them on a pedestal. It humanises them. It makes them reachable, it makes them an achievable goal. And if, even after meeting them, they still remain your hero?”
Tim finally looked him in the eyes, a small smile playing at his lips.
“Then you know that they are truly a hero at heart.”
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