Chapter Text
Like a lot of kids who lived on the street, Jason Todd had little use for soulmate dreams. The way he figured it, if his soulmate was older one of two things would happen. One, they'd show up and take him out of his mom's shitty excuse for an apartment and away from her endless stream of “boyfriends” with their greedy, soulless eyes that lingered on him a little too long as they made their way to the door. His soulmate might not be rich, like the soulmates some of the more naive kids thought they'd get, but they'd care enough about Jason to do whatever they could to get him away from a life that had no future beyond the end of a needle, or the barrel of a gun, or the rough grip of a series of faceless strangers. Or two, they'd take one look at the street rat that showed up in place of the perfect soulmate they'd been dreaming about their whole lives, and wash their hands of him. Soulbonds are strong things, and fate or God or whatever usually does a decent job of matching people, but Jason has seen enough soulmate relationships go bad that he knows it's no guarantee.
If his soulmate was younger...well, that was a whole different problem. Unless they lived in Gotham, there was no way Jason could reliably get to them. And even if he could, what would he do there? Live with their parents? What if they couldn't afford another kid? What if they wouldn't believe someone like Jason could be matched with their perfect little angel? What if they believed it, and threw them both out the way that sometimes happened in the books Jason read at the local library? Jason would rather be one of the rare few with no soulmate at all then be the cause of his soulmate ending up in the same shitty situation he'd been living in his whole life.
His attitude didn't change much after being taken in by Bruce. Sure, he could take care of his soulmate better if it came to that now, but it wasn't like living with the actual fucking Batman didn't come with its own set of problems. What if his soulmate only came for him because he wanted to get closer to Bruce's money? What if it ended up being a criminal or a super villain? Dick always laughed whenever Jason would talk like that, but he and his Titians would know better than most that not all bad guys were out of their teens. Fuck, he wouldn't even be the first person in their “family” to have a questionable soulmate, if any of the rumors about Bruce were true. On the flipside, what if they couldn't deal with Jason's double life? What if they made him choose: his soulmate or Robin? Could he make that choice? What if he did, then regretted it later? Jason's future was an endless series of what ifs that sometimes kept him awake in a cold sweat when he should have been exhausted after a night of patrolling the city. Or, it was, until his future came to a screeching halt at the end of the Joker's crowbar.
After the Pit, Jason wrote soulmates off completely. No one would want him now, and he couldn't have a weak spot that obvious, not when he was taking on the Bat and the entire criminal cesspit of Gotham City at the same time. Even if he hadn't walled that part of himself off behind anger and resentment and smothering seas of green, who the fuck knew how old he was anymore anyway? He'd barely been able to keep track when he was a kid, and he knew for a fact there were several years where Catherine Todd celebrated his birthday on completely different days, even different months once or twice. Who was to say if the day they remembered the most was the actual day he was born, let alone what his age was. Maybe he was older. He wouldn't be the first skinny, malnourished street kid who looked a lot younger than he was. Maybe his birth certificate was wrong. Maybe the year or however the fuck long he was dead pushed him over eighteen. Maybe he was in the ground when he should have been having his dream. Maybe he was there when his soulmate had theirs. Maybe the Pit carved that part out of him when it pulled him apart and badly stitched him back together into the Jason Todd-shaped husk he was now. So yeah, it had been years since he gave any serious thought to his dream or his soulmate.
Which made it a pretty big fucking shock when, instead of waking up in his latest safe house with a half-healed bullet wound and a hangover from hell, he found himself in the Batcave.
“You've gotta be fucking kidding me...”
There was a soft snort to his left, where the chair in front of Bruce's big ass Batcomputer was facing away from him. Jason froze. He knew this was his dream, everyone knew when they were having the dream no matter how much they were or weren't expecting it, and he was suddenly terrified the chair would turn around to reveal Bruce himself.
The boy with the messy black hair, fuzzy Star Wars pajama pants, and oversized Tony Hawk t-shirt sitting there instead was only barely a step up.
“Replacement?”
Other than a slight raising of his eyebrows, Tim fucking Drake didn't react at all as he looked Jason over from head to toe.
Then he burst out laughing.
“What?” Jason scowled. When he thought Tim wasn't looking he took a discreet glance down at himself. Jeans, t-shirt, badass leather jacket, exactly what he fell asleep in; the jeans weren't even that dirty. “What the hell is so funny?”
That just set Tim off even more.
“Oh. My. God,” Tim said when he finally got himself under control. He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, and grinned. “Wow. You are really gonna have your work cut out for you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Convincing me I'm you're soulmate?” Tim said, spinning the chair around once. “You know there's no way I'm—flesh me, I mean—is gonna believe you when you tell me, right? Or did you forget that I'm not gonna remember any of this when I wake up?”
“I didn't forget,” Jason said, even though he kinda did. What? It's been forever since he thought about this shit. The finer points of soul dreams aren't exactly always at the front of his mind. “But why the fuck would I tell you?”
Tim's face slowly fell. “Oh.”
Jason scowled again, hating the way that one little word pierced his chest. “What do you mean 'oh'? Even if I wanted to tell you, you said it yourself. You'll never believe me.”
Tim looked even more miserable. “Even if you wanted...”
Shit.
“You're not gonna cry, are you?”
Real sensitive, asshole.
“I might,” Tim said softly.
“What?”
The Replacement Jason knew would have rather chewed his sarcasm off than admit Jason had gotten to him.
Tim's lips twitched into something that almost looked like amusement, if it weren't for the way his eyes shimmered wetly in the bad lighting of the cave. “You totally forgot.”
“I didn't forget anything,” Jason said. Then, “What did I forget?”
Tim shook his head. “Pretty much everything about soulmate dreams, I'm guessing. But specifically? You're not really talking to 'me', here. Not the 'me' that you'd talk to in the real Gotham City. I'm Tim's soul; the raw essence of what makes up the whole Tim Drake, without any silly brain stuff like insecurity and anxiety and the need to prove myself to get in the way of what I really feel and who I really am. If I'm sad, I'm going to show it, even if I'd rather die than cry in front of you in real life.”
“And you're sad because...?”
Tim stared at him in disbelief. “Because my soulmate doesn't want me? Wouldn't you be sad if I completely rejected you?”
“I didn't—” Jason bit himself off. Technicalities aside, rejection kind of was where this was leading, right? So why the fuck did it hurt so much to think of never telling the Replacement about all this? “Are you saying you actually want me as your soulmate?”
“That's exactly what I'm saying.”
Something inside Jason's chest tightened.
Your heart, dumbass. That's your fucking heart.
“Even though I've tried to kill you? Even though I've beaten you unconscious and left your body behind for your friends to find with 'Jason Todd was here' written on the wall?”
“Okay, maybe that was a bit tacky, but...” Tim shrugged and gave him a soft little smile. “I've had a crush on you since I was eleven, Jason. Bruce wasn't the only one your death nearly destroyed. I don't care what you've done to me since you came back, I'm just happy that you came back. And I was ecstatic that I was the one who showed up in your dream.”
“You laughed.”
“I laughed because I couldn't stop thinking about how much trouble you were going to have with flesh me. Souls live in the emotional moment, you know? If I hadn't thought about that I would have jumped out of the chair and thrown myself into your arms.” Tim's cheeks pinked. “Which probably would have been a terrible idea, considering...”
Jason winced as the tight feeling in his chest turned into a sharp pain. “What about...” He cleared his throat. “What about that eggplant girl? Aren't you dating her?”
“Steph?” Tim raised an eyebrow. “You think I'm dating Steph?”
“I've got, like, eight hundred surveillance photos of you two on dates so fuck me if I made an assumption or two.”
Tim laughed. “Jason, she's my friend. We hang out all the time because we're friends. I mean, yes, we did kiss once just because we were both still a few years away from our dreams and curious and neither of our soulmates had contacted us yet, but we both thought it was weird and uncomfortable and decided to never do it again. I spent about a month barely able to sleep worrying that my soulmate would be upset they didn't get my first kiss. I never even considered they might not want to kiss me at all...”
“Stop that.”
“Stop...what?”
“That guilt shit!” Jason ran his hand over his face. “Look, I'm sorry I didn't throw myself into your arms or whatever you were expecting, but I'm not a soul, okay? I've got all that 'brain stuff' and it's working fucking overtime right now, so don't try to make me feel bad because I'm not 'ecstatic' that the guy Bruce replaced me with is my fucking soulmate, okay?”
Tim stared at the ground. “He didn't, though.”
“What?”
“Bruce,” Tim said quietly. “He didn't replace you.”
“Fuck that shit.”
“I'm serious. I don't...I don't know what Dick or Bruce or anyone might have told you—”
“No one tells me shit, unless it's about how much of a disgrace I am and how wrong I am and, oh yeah, how I should turn myself in and let Bruce lock me up in a case next to my old costume so he can glare at me whenever he wants for ruining whatever dumb fuck idealized image he built up in his head after I died.”
“Yeah, that's sort of what I figured. About what he's told you, not any of that other BS. That I'm pretty sure even you don't really believe.” Jason started to protest, but Tim cut him off with a quick smirk. “Anger and sarcasm, Jason. Remember who you're talking to. We can recognize our own.”
“Fuck off.”
Tim laughed again, but quickly sobered. “Your death hit Bruce hard. He lost his way, really lost his way, after you died. The 'about one bad week away from doing exactly what you keep saying you want him to do' kind of lost his way.”
Jason was stunned. “He almost killed the Joker?”
“No...but that probably wasn't too far off, really. He got reckless with criminals. Hurt them way more than he needed to subdue them. More than once he beat someone so bad they could barely breathe and just left them in the street. Sometimes he didn't even call it in. A few times the guy probably would have died if I hadn't been there to call an ambulance.”
Jason...had no idea how to feel about that. On one hand, this was exactly what he wanted. For Bruce to see that his way didn't work. For him to cross that meaningless little line that was more important to him than doing right by his fucking family. On the other, it wasn't. Bruce wasn't actually admitting he was wrong. From what Tim was saying, it sounded more like...like he stopped caring if he was right.
“Wait, why were you there? I can't imagine Bruce would beat people half to death in front of the new Robin no matter how messed up he was about me.”
He had no idea why Bruce would even have a new Robin if that's where his head was at. It took him long enough to agree to train Jason, and that was just after Dickie ran away.
“I wasn't Robin, then. Bruce never even knew I was there.”
“The fuck you say.”
Tim grinned, this time with an edge of smug pride. “None of you ever knew I was there. I figured out who you all were when I was nine and spent the next few years following you around at night and taking pictures.”
Jason couldn't have kept from laughing if he tried.
“Holy fucking shit,” Jason wiped his eyes. “What I wouldn't give to see his fucking face when you told him that.”
“Whatever you're imagining? It was better.”
“Fucking epic.”
“But getting back to my point, I had to beg him to be Robin. In the end it took me, Dick, Alfred, and Barbara get him to see where he was headed. To get him to see that Batman needs a Robin. And even then he never really wanted me there. I was never you. I'm just a body in a suit that keeps him from making a choice he can never unmake. He never replaced you, Jason. He never wanted to. I've spent my entire time as Robin knowing I was second best at best, and I never had a problem with that.” He let out a soft laugh. “I think I would have had more of a problem than you did if he ever said I was better than you. You were, without question, the best Robin. More than that...” Tim met his eyes. “More than that, you were my Robin.”
Fuck...
That pain in his chest went from sharp and stabbing to fucking explosion. And fuck if Jason ever wanted to feel that kind of heat and pressure ever again.
Except...
Except this time it maybe wasn't so bad. It was different, at least. Less searing anger and burning, green tinted desire to get revenge and more just burning.
“Fuck babybird...”
Tim perked up. “Babybird?”
Jason cringed. “Shit.”
“Wow. You didn't just come up with that, did you?” Tim lit up like a kid who'd just been told Christmas was extended till June. “Do you call me that in your head, Jason?”
“No! Fuck off.” Jason crossed his arms and looked away, hating every single thought he just had because now his fucking face was burning too. “Maybe. I dunno. Fuck you.”
Tim threw back his head, spun around in his chair, and laughed.
“Maybe this isn't so hopeless if you've already got a pet name for me.”
If Jason had heard even the smallest hint of mockery, maybe this whole thing would have went differently. But he didn't. Tim didn't sound anything but delighted, and when Jason finally forced himself to look back at his soulmate all he could see were flushed cheeks, a happy smile, and sparkling eyes.
“Fuck,” he groaned, rubbing his face. Was he seriously actually considering this? Did he actually want this?
….maybe?
It wasn't like he hadn't accidentally caught himself admiring the replac—Tim, on occasion. The kid had the sharpest mind Jason had ever seen, Bruce included, and he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes. Jason could have ended up with worse soulmates.
(Like that snappy demon brat of a kid Talia had tucked away in their desert palace back in Whereverthefuckistan. And fuck was Bruce ever going to lose his shit whenever Damian got old enough to sneak away without getting caught and showed up in Gotham.)
“If I...” Jason tried his best to ignore the way his voice cracked and cleared his throat. “If I tried this...” Say it. Just fucking say it. If there's one time you don't need to put up a front it's right here. Real Tim will never even know you asked, just fucking do it. “How do I know you won't break what's left of my heart?”
“I...can't promise I won't,” Tim said, sounding hesitant for the first time. Jason' heart clenched and something of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because Tim quickly continued. “As much as you being my soulmate is a dream come true, I don't know how flesh Tim is going to react. I can give you some possibilities, but honestly Jason, there's a pretty good chance I'm not going to believe you until I have my own dream.”
Fuck. Jason ran his fingers through his hair. Okay, maybe this wasn't that bad of a thing. It'd give him some time to work this shit out, come to terms in his own head, wade through the sludge of his Pit ravaged soul until he could figure out how the hell to be a soulmate to someone he always thought he'd end up killing one day. Maybe, along the way, he could start getting closer to Tim naturally. A calm conversation. A team up or two. After patrol coffee. Be his friend until he had his dream and realized Jason had been subtly sweeping him off his feet the whole time.
“Okay. I can deal with that.” Jason nodded, mostly to himself. “When are you gonna have your dream? I wanna know how much time I have to woo your skinny ass.”
Tim laughed. “Well, I just turned fifteen last month so—”
“Three years? I have to wait three fucking years?”
“I thought you were going to woo—”
“Not for three fucking years. Fuck that shit. You think I won't fuck this up if it takes that long? Hell no. You've got a year.”
Tim seemed confused. “I have...a year? Until...what?”
“You've got a year to have your dream. If you turn sixteen and you haven't had it, I'm not gonna be responsible for what I do.”
“Jason, you can't just force a soulmate dream. Everyone has them when they're eighteen!”
“If anyone can figure it out, it'd be you.”
“I won't remember any of this!”
“Then you're gonna have a pretty fucking memorable sixteenth birthday, babybird.”
Jason wasn't gonna lie, Tim Drake at a loss for words? Really fucking satisfying. Also. Kind of adorable.
Huh. Maybe he was warming up to this soulmate thing quicker than he thought.
“I have no idea what to say to that.” Tim shook his head. “I almost wish I could be there to see flesh me's face when you do...whatever it is you're planning on doing.”
“Ha! You've known me how long and you think I'm planning any of this shit? I'm winging it, babybird. Pretty appropriate for a couple of Robins, right?” They shared a small smile. “Besides, you'll be there. You'll be inside Tim, but you'll still be there. He can't exactly get rid of his soul, right?”
“You probably don't want to make any bets on what I'm capable of when properly motivated...” Tim's smile dimmed. “It'll be different, though. Flesh me and you will have a whole lifetime ahead of you, but...”
“But what?”
Tim shrugged. “This is the last time I'll ever get to talk to you.”
Well, that's fucking heartbreaking.
“Jason?”
“What?”
“Does that really bother you?”
“What do you mean?”
Tim smiled and shrugged. “You looked really, really sad for a moment there.”
Jason had to fight not to bluster and find a way to get the fuck out of this dream.
It's okay to be honest, shithead. You literally just decided this. Don't let yourself ruin this dream more than you already have.
No matter what he told himself, there was still a part of him, mad and green, that was screaming at Jason to hit Tim, to grab him and hurt him and tear him apart.
Jason Todd had never hated Talia al Ghul more than he did in that moment.
“Jason...?”
Jason closed his eyes and forced himself to count to ten. It didn't quite work, but it made him feel like he was in control long enough for him to actually be in control.
Good, now be fucking honest with your soulmate.
“Honestly? That's the saddest fucking thing I ever heard. I...” Say it you waste of skin. “I kind of wish I could stay here forever, now.”
Jason Todd did not deserve good things. He did not deserve a soulmate, or a second chance with Tim, or anything other than two slugs to the back of the head and an unmarked grave paid for by the county. But when Tim Drake's fucking soul smiled at him like he'd just singlehandedly breathed life into the entire concept of joy and love?
He thought that maybe, somewhere deep inside him, there was a version of himself who might.
“Jason...”
“You don't have to—”
“Jason,” Tim said fondly. “Shut up.”
He was out of the chair and before Jason could blink he had an armful of Tim.
“You're amazing,” Tim said. He paused, then squeezed Jason's bicep. “And holy crap you're built.”
A surprised laugh made its way out of Jason's throat.
“What?” Tim pulled back just enough to look at Jason with a tiny smirk. “Souls live in the moment, remember? I can go from romantic to horny in a second if I want to. Actually, since flesh me is fifteen, that's probably something we have in common.”
“Please stop talking,” Jason said. “I'd have to shoot myself if this was happening in real life.”
“Is the age thing going to be an issue?”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “How many pedos have I killed?”
“A disproportionate number according to my research.”
Now both eyebrows went up. “Seriously? Your 'research'?”
“Something you're going to have to get used to about me,” Tim said. He leaned in until his lips were touching Jason's ear and whispered, “I'm a huge nerd.”
Jason snorted. “Really?” he deadpanned.
“Oh yeah,” Tim said, nodding. “Massive. I'm not even lying when I say about a fourth of the reason I wish you could stay here with me is so we could roll you a Pathfinder character.”
“I have literally no idea what that means.”
“Learn,” Tim said seriously. “If you want to woo flesh me without resorting to walking around naked in front of me you're gonna need some serious tabletop skills.”
And Jason, because fuck if his stupid brain could be consistent about anything, said without thinking, “I've got tabletop skills, babybird, you'd just need to be under me on the table for me to show 'em off.”
Tim grinned. “Jason Todd you minx. But seriously, never say that to flesh me unless you want to see my face literally melt off from the heat of the blush. Because damn.”
Jason groaned. “Fuuuuuck me.”
“Flesh Tim's gonna want it the other way—”
“No! Stop.” Jason ground his palms into his eyes. “Seriously, stop. I have no idea why I said that. I'm a fucking idiot. A gross idiot. A gross idiot pervert—”
Tim cut him off with a kiss.
Jason wasn't exactly a stranger to kissing. He'd gotten his first kiss back in Crime Alley from a street girl who was a few years older than him at the time. It wasn't anything special, just a quick press of lips as a thank you for scaring off another street kid who'd been harassing her. He never forgot how it felt, though. Not so much the kiss, though it was nice, but the way it felt to make the world a little bit safer for someone who usually had no one to rely on. For that brief moment, tiny little knobby kneed prepubescent Jason Todd had been a hundred foot tall giant in that girl's world. Her own personal Superman. He'd held that feeling tight and warm inside his chest, bringing it out on the coldest nights when the sounds of the men his mom brought back to her bedroom were too loud to block out and he had to spend the night sleeping in the streets to get away from it. Other kisses had followed, when he was older, and after he died and came back more followed. And every single one of them, no matter how much passion there was behind it, all failed to bring back the high of that first kiss.
And, to be honest, so did Tim's.
Kissing Tim, kissing Tim's soul, made that first kiss feel like a limp handshake.
Jason could actually feel the bond between them, both of their souls reaching out for each other—no, that wasn't quite right. They'd been reaching out to each other all their lives. This was their first meeting, and as far as they were concerned, it had been too long in coming.
Jason couldn't bring himself to disagree.
It seemed like they kissed forever, but even Jason knew soulmate dreams had a time limit, so that probably wasn't the case. He wouldn't have minded if they did, though. Nothing had ever felt like this to Jason. It was like sinking into a warm blanket fresh from the dryer in the dead of winter. It was like a cold glass of Alfred's lemonade after spending a long, hot August night on patrol. It was like walking into Bruce's manor and being welcomed with smiles and hugs.
It was like coming home.
When they finally pulled apart Jason didn't want to open his eyes. He was suddenly terrified that this was just a dream—a regular dream, not a soulmate dream. That if he opened his eyes it wouldn't be Tim's arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders, wouldn't be Tim's breath ghosting across his lips.
“Wow,” Tim said breathlessly.
Without meaning to, Jason opened his eyes.
Tim was glowing. His cheeks were flushed; his smile soft and maybe a little bit smug.
“That was amazing,” Tim said.
“Yeah.” Jason's voice cracked a bit, and Tim grinned.
“Big bad Red Hood all flustered from one kiss with me,” he said. “I wonder what the wagging tongues on the street would say about that?”
Jason cleared his throat. “They'd say, 'fuck, we should mind our own damn business before Red Hood kicks our ass to Bludhaven and back'.”
Tim threw back his head and laughed. “You are perfect.”
Jason grimaced. “I'm really not.”
“Yes, you are.” The amusement softened into another one of those tiny smiles. “And you know what? I'm okay with this being our only time together, now. Tim's in good hands with you, and one kiss like that is enough to live on for the rest of my life.”
Jason leaned down and rested his forehead against Tim's. “Just one?”
“Who would have thought Jason Todd would be such a temptress.” Tim let out a shaky sigh, then said more seriously, “If you kiss me again I'm going to jump you and tear off your clothes and do something that you're probably not at all ready for.”
Who knew erections could be so painful in a dream?
“Not exactly seeing the bad here, babybird.”
Tim snorted. “So you're totally okay with having sex with someone who was fourteen less than a month ago?”
Jason cringed. He'd actually forgotten about that part. “Well, when you put it that way...”
Hey, plus side, the erection thing was under control.
Mostly.
As if by mutual agreement, they both separated and took a step back at the same time.
“I meant what I said though,” Tim said softly. “I'm perfectly happy with my kiss.”
“Good. But fuck that one kiss thing.” Jason looked Tim right in the eyes. “When I finally get around to kissing babybird, I'll put a little extra in it for you every time, okay?”
“Fuck,” Tim whispered. His eyes began to tear, and he let out a wet little laugh as he wiped them away. “How can you think you're anything but perfect? You're so perfect.”
“Well, if you say it how can it be anything but true?”
Jason didn't believe that, not for a second, but he wasn't going to ruin the time he had left with Tim's soul by being a self-loathing mood kill. If he couldn't give this Tim one night without fucking up how the hell was he going to give the other one a whole lifetime?
“You are so...” Tim trailed off, blushing. “I think I was wrong before. You won't have any problem wooing flesh Tim if you can be this smooth.”
“Yeah?”
Tim nodded. “Definitely.”
“Good.”
And it was. It was also a huge weight...not quite off his shoulders, but at least shifted into a better position. He would have to make sure he remembered this, remembered the way Tim's soul told him he could do this. It was sure to help on the long series of lonely, frustrating nights he had ahead of him.
Jason could sense their conversation had reached a natural dropping off point, but his dream was still going strong and he really didn't want to waste any of the time he had here with awkward silences. Besides, he didn't really know all that much about Tim in real life. This was a perfect opportunity for some great intel.
“But I'll take any advantage I can get, so why don't you explain this Pathfinder thing to me.”
Tim lit up like Jason just told him, fuck 'till June, Christmas was an all-year holiday.
And that's how they spent the rest of Jason's soulmate dream; talking about nerd crap Jason wouldn't have given a fuck about a few hours ago. He found that he did care now, though. Mostly because it was important to Tim, but also a little bit because he could kind of understand the appeal of pretending to be someone else for an afternoon or eight.
At some point, after learning what “rolling a character” meant but before Tim could finish explaining why something that involved so much math could actually be fun, the cave started to fade away around them.
Tim scowled at the disintegrating reality.
“Oh come on! I've barely scratched the surface!”
“Looks like I'll have to get the rest from flesh you, babybird.”
Tim's scowl melted into a cackle. “I could say so many things right now.”
“You could,” Jason agreed. “But you're starting to fade too. Guess I'm about to wake up.”
He did his best to keep his voice light. The last thing he wanted was to make this sad right at the very end. Tim gave him a sharp look.
“Okay,” Tim said. “So, there are a million things I want to say before this happens, but I only have time for maybe two, so please, even though it goes against your nature, let me have the last word, okay?”
Jason nodded. Tim smiled.
“Great! So, first? I'm so sorry for everything flesh me is about to put you through. No! Don't say anything. It's going to suck. And I'm probably going to say some hurtful things once you start getting too close. Just, please try to remember that you don't deserve that from me. What you deserve are good things. You deserve to be happy and know that you're wanted. God Jason, you are so wanted. I've been in love with you since I was 11 and when I finally realize that this is real I'm going to spend the rest of our lives making you the happiest person in the universe. Please try to remember that when I'm an asshole back in the real world, okay?”
Even if Tim hadn't told him to be quiet, there was no way Jason could have spoken around the lump in his throat.
“Okay, good.” Tim said. The fading had reached his chest now, and Jason could feel the springs from the bare mattress he was sleeping on in the real world digging into his side. Their time was almost up. “Second thing...” Tim's lips twitched. “I've wanted to do this in my dream since I was six.”
He leaned back, floating in the nothingness that had once been the cave, and said in a croaking voice, “There is...another...Sky...walk...er...”
Then he closed his eyes and faded away.
Jason woke up in his safe house with a small, disbelieving smile on his lips.
“You fucking nerd,” he muttered.
Then, he buried his face in his pillow and grinned.
My fucking nerd.