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"We have to tell Bernard."
Dick took a long, slow breath through his nose, running both hands over his face. The sharp smell of hand sanitizer burned his nostrils. "He's Tim's fucking boyfriend , he deserves to know!" Jason continued as he paced along the hospital room windows like usual.
Like usual. The thought left a bad taste in Dick’s mouth. No hospital room should feel this familiar. And yet the spacious room Bruce’s name and wallet afforded them was exactly that. They always found themselves back in their spots no matter how the room was laid out; Jason by the windows, Damian cross legged on the couch, and Dick by the bedside.
"Stop arguing with yourself, Jason. No one is disagreeing with you." said Damian quietly. He pulled out the single earbud he had in, pausing his music. Dick wasn’t sure but when he caught a glimpse earlier, it looked like one of Tim’s playlists. They’d been bonding over music recently, it made sense they’d share their favorites. "But someone has to tell him Tim is in critical condition at the hospital after being shot through the throat. Are you volunteering?"
"I'll do it," Dick said wearily, "I'll go get Bernard. We’ll tell him what Bruce told the hospital. And if he figures it out…then he figures it out." And with all Tim shared about Bernard and his Batman conspiracies, there was no doubt he’d already heard about Robin being shot.
“Bruce–”
“Will have to understand. Besides, he wants Tim to be happy.” Dick cast a look at the empty space in the room, where Tim’s bed would be wheeled in after surgery finished. He forced himself to turn away. “Bernard makes him happy.”
It wasn’t an easy drive. Dick wanted to be back in the sterile room, waiting to see Tim, to talk to the doctors. Walking to the car felt like pulling his feet through wet cement.
But he'd kept going because of the conversation he had the other week when Tim called him randomly at three in the morning, utensils clattering on both of their ends as they finished their atrociously late dinners.
“I feel like I’ve talked Kate’s ear off about this but…I don’t know man. It feels new and not new at the same time.” Dick nodded along as Tim rambled on speakerphone. “It’s been months and obviously he likes me because we keep going on dates and he holds my hand and kisses me and–”
“You can stop there, I don’t need to hear any more details.”
“You ass,” Tim laughed, “I wasn’t going to say anything, don’t be weird!”
“Sorry but it was starting to sound a bit like a spiral, I had to cut the tension!”
“I guess I was…” As Tim sighed, Dick started loading his dishwasher. “Dick, I…I think I love him. And I’m ready to say it.”
A grin spread across Dick’s face as he set the dish back into the sink. “That’s good! So why do you sound sad about it?”
“Because what if he’s not there yet? And how can he really know me if he doesn’t know about Robin? That’s over half of my life! I’ve never really dealt with this before, Steph was a vigilante herself and then Robin–”
“What about Ariana?”
“I handled it terribly and she literally broke up with me because of that, how is that a good example?” Dick shrugged to himself. “This time it’s like this huge secret between us and it doesn’t feel right. I want him to know me.”
“Then tell him. If it matters that much, you need to tell him.” Dick dried his hands on a dishtowel and took the call off speakerphone. “We’ve all told people or they found out by accident. What’s one more?”
“He loves Robin. What if I’m not what he expected?” The whispered reply nearly broke Dick’s heart and he wished they weren't in entirely different cities. “What if he’s upset that I lied? Or he doesn’t want to be with a vigilante?”
“All of that’s possible. But does any of it seem like Bernard? It sure doesn’t to me.” Silence. Dick sighed. “It’s late, Tim. Get some sleep. Come back to this when you’re rested and not a step away from a meltdown and thinking your boyfriend hates you.”
“Am not.”
“You are but I still love you.”
Tim chuckled. “Love you too, Dick. Thanks for letting me talk.”
A single gasping sob burst from Dick and he clapped a hand over his mouth. Don’t fucking cry while you’re driving, Grayson! Get it together before you crash. He reached over and cranked the radio up, drowning out the memory and the slithering, dark whispers that it was the last time he'd ever hear his little brother say he loved him.
When he parked at the Dowds’ house, he was composed again. Silently rehearsing his script, Dick rang the doorbell. He'd be gentle about breaking the news, try to keep Bernard calm, then–
The door flew open. “Dick!” Bernard greeted him with a smile. A heartbeat later, it melted away. Bernard’s knuckles went white around the edge of the door. “What happened?”
Dick didn't know what he'd done to give it away but there was no point in beating around the bush. "Tim's been shot.” Bernard reeled back, as if the words physically smacked him. “He's in surgery right now, I came to get you."
“You left without seeing him…to get me?” There was a tremor in Bernard’s voice.
Dick knew his smile was sad, could feel how it sagged despite his efforts to make it encouraging. “You’re important to him. He’d want you there.”
Wordlessly, Bernard rushed up the stairs, coming back down barely a minute later with his keys and wallet in one hand and a jacket in the other. He waited until they were on the freeway and speeding before asking, "Do you know how he’s doing?"
"He just got out of surgery.” Bernard’s eyes fluttered closed and his hands clenched around his knees. “Jason texted when you went upstairs. Tim is resting in the room. Doctors say he’s still critical after so much blood loss but stable." Dick held the wheel tighter, trying and failing to not think of how the passenger seat of the Batmobile looked like a horror scene.
“That’s good, right?”
“Very good.”
Bernard nodded, staring at the hoodie he was twisting in his lap. “Thank you, Dick. For getting me. I–” He bit his lip and closed his eyes.
Not taking his eyes from the highway he was speeding down, Dick reached out and squeezed Bernard’s clenched hands.
They entered through the back of the hospital, avoiding any lurking reporters or photographers who might have gotten wind about Tim's admittance. After a few knocks the door cracked open and Jason peeked out with protective glare.
“That was fast.” He stepped back and opened the door. “He’s still under. Doc said it might take him a while to wake up.”
As much as he’d prepared himself, Dick was still caught off guard when he saw his little brother. A hard plastic oxygen mask obscured most of his sickly pale face. Bandages wrapped around and hid the brutal wound on his neck. Other tubes and wires snaked out from under the pale green hospital gown and blankets, back to the array of machines surrounding him.
Tim barely looked like the fierce fighter he’d grown into. Instead he seemed small, like the hopeful twelve-year-old who sought Dick out at the circus all those years ago. A bright spot amidst oppressive dark. Of course he made a fantastic Robin.
"Tim." Bernard rushed across the room, automatically reaching for Tim's face before catching himself. His unsteady hand closed around Tim's. "It’s me, it’s Bear." Dick laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder, watching Bernard carefully brush a limp strand of hair off Tim's forehead and run a thumb across his cheek. "I'm gonna stay with you, okay? I'm not leaving." His voice was thick with tears, jaw clenched as he fought them back the same way he had in the car.
Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, Dick waved his brothers out of the room. "We'll give you some time." He whispered to Bernard.
"How long is ‘some time’?" Damian asked in the hallway.
"I don't know, Dames. Long enough that he can break down and then compose himself. He was barely holding it together the whole way here." Dick slid down to sit on the hallway floor beside the door. Disgusting, he knew, but God he was exhausted. This was the worst injury in a while, he wasn’t used to this anymore. When Jason sat beside him, Dick slumped against his shoulder and closed his eyes.
He heard Damian murmur something about getting coffee and could only muster a grunt in response. Why was it that tragedy seemed to be the only thing that could get his brothers in the same room these days? Couldn’t they find time in all their separate lives to see each other for happier reasons?
Some time ended up being an almost half hour long nap on his brother's shoulder. Jason gently shook him awake to see Damian holding a drink carrier with four coffees and a large paper bag. "Shall we go in?"
Bernard was sitting by Tim's side in a barely cushioned chair, holding Tim's hand in his and rubbing his knuckles with his thumb as he spoke in a low voice to his unconscious boyfriend. He looked up as they filed in. "What happened? Why was he shot? Why is his neck bandaged?”
He sounded steadier now, even smiled as Damian handed him one of the coffees along with a muffin from the grease stained bag. Dick took a deep breath. "He was shot through the neck when the charity ball he and Bruce were at was ambushed." For a second it looked like Bernard might drop his coffee. Jason glared at Dick but honestly, was there any easy way to deliver news like that?
"His neck? Did-did it hit his spine?"
Jason spoke up, repeating what the surgeon must’ve told him. "They don't think so but it did hit an artery. Bruce said he was speaking before he passed out but they can't be completely sure of all the other damage until swelling goes down and he's in better shape for tests. Without his spleen, Tim is at higher risk for infection so they’re doing extra monitoring and possibly a longer stay.”
Bernard blinked at that, taken aback, and Dick realized he might not have known Tim didn’t have a spleen. Explaining it would certainly veer dangerously close to cape territory. Or maybe he didn't realize how serious it could be.
Jason’s tone turned from detached and informational to wry. “Then they said ‘until then, you can rest assured that your brother was very lucky and continues to be lucky.’”
"Lucky." Bernard repeated in a flat voice. Jason’s scoff and shake of his head said he agreed with the sentiment. "Where's your dad? If he’s the one who brought Tim in, why is it only you three?"
Silently, Dick cursed Bruce and his poor timing as Jason and Damian exchanged a quick look. "He was here earlier but left to speak with police, lawyers, all the official things. He'll be back when it's settled. We're trying to keep the whole thing quiet, you know how private Tim is."
The truth was he had no idea when Bruce would be back. Last he heard from Babs, Bruce was following up on leads from the attack in the cave. Working off his fear. The man had been close to distraught, a storm of emotions raging behind his eyes when Dick arrived at the hospital and he’d immediately told Bruce to go and come back when he was calm and helpful. He didn’t need him getting into spats with Jason and Damian simply because they were all stressed and exhausted. But at the same time…he should be here.
Bernard nodded but Dick doubted it was settled. He’d been asking too many questions and from what Tim shared with them and Dick had seen himself, Bernard didn’t have a problem chasing down the truth.
---
“When do we have to leave?” Bernard asked.
“We don’t.” Jason answered from his spot on the wide window sill, staring out at the city. They’d spent the last forty minutes or so in silence. Dick had been sitting at Tim’s side but his nerves and leftover patrol adrenaline kept making him get up to pace and bounce on his toes. Now he was sitting on the couch, one hand on Damian who was curled up beside him. Turns out he had been listening to Tim’s playlist, something he whispered to Dick when hesitantly holding out an earbud. “Brucie Warbucks gets special privileges.”
“Jay.” It was a warning but Jason waved a dismissive hand at Dick. He was also annoyed Bruce wasn’t here and said as much in expletive loaded texts to Dick.
“That explains why the room is so big.” Bernard said with a weak laugh. He was still sitting on Tim’s left side but in the much more comfortable armchair Jason moved for him.
The bed felt like an invisible wall between them and while Dick was sure the silence was initially helpful for everyone to get their thoughts in order, it wasn’t anymore. Bernard was putting up a good front but he had yet to let go of Tim’s hand. When he opened his phone, it only seemed to make him more anxious. How many times did he set it down only to pick it up seconds later?
“Jay.” Dick said again, this time in a soft murmur. His brother glanced over and Dick tipped his head ever so slightly towards Bernard.
With an equally subtle nod, Jason stood and meandered over to Tim. “Hey Red.” He whispered and while normally Dick would scold him for being so careless, it was a harmless enough comment. And the shared call sign was always a favorite joke between Jason and Tim. Red and Red. His throat grew tight again.
Jason squeezed Tim’s arm before pulling a chair closer. “You really should eat that.”
“What?” Bernard looked up from his phone, and blinked in surprise.
Jason tipped his chin at the coffee and muffin. “Maybe skip the coffee if you want to sleep or avoid extra anxiety but at least have the muffin. Sometimes your body doesn’t realize it’s hungry when you’re distressed.” He looked pointedly over his shoulder at Dick. “You too.”
Rolling his eyes, Dick raised a cranberry-orange scone to Bernard before biting in. “Cheers.”
Hesitantly, Bernard slipped his phone away and tore off the top of the neglected cinnamon muffin. He nibbled on it, took a sip of coffee. “Have you done this before? It sounds like you–actually, all of you–have. You’re so calm.”
“Nah, we’re not calm. We’ve just gotten really good at masking it all.”
“Why mask it?”
Jason tensed at the questions, just for a second. Then the defensiveness faded. Bernard wasn’t their enemy and the conversation seemed to be relaxing him. He was taking real bites of the muffin top now.
“None of us had easy lives before Bruce, who isn’t exactly the poster child for emotional expression himself. Add in growing up in the public eye, perfectionist personalities–” and vigilantism, Dick thought, “and you end up with a bunch of kids who grew up too fast and feel the need to act like everything is okay when the house is burning down around them.”
Jason jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Dickie’s the worst, your typical protective older brother. But he’s also the first of us to have enough sense to see a therapist.”
“I don’t know if I should feel insulted, flattered, or proud of your newfound emotional awareness.” Dick grinned and Bernard gave him a small, tight smile. “And yeah, we’ve done this before. With so many kids, someone is bound to get hurt or kidnapped for an insane ransom. Doesn’t mean it gets any easier.”
“At least you have each other.”
“Yeah,” Tenderness crept into Jason’s voice, “Even with all our problems, at least we show up.”
And then, because Dick heard what Bernard wasn’t saying, he said, “You have us too, you know. It’s not an ‘us and them’ situation. You’re not going through this alone.”
This time, Bernard’s smile felt a little more genuine.
Nurses came in a few minutes later and Jason and Bernard moved to stand by the couch as they watched them change IV bags and write on Tim’s charts. Damian was definitely asleep so Dick dragged his head onto his lap, leaving enough space for Jason and Bernard to sit beside them as he texted Bruce. No reply but this time his whole chain of messages were suddenly marked ‘read’.
“How’d you two meet?” Jason asked when he noticed Bernard chewing on a nail.
“We were friends in high school. Tim might have mentioned me but that was years ago, I doubt you remember.”
“I…wasn’t really around when Tim was in high school,” Jason winced, “Big falling out with Bruce, like ‘you’re dead to me’ big.”
“Right, Tim mentioned you were estranged for several years,” Bernard gave him an apologetic look, “and that you hated his guts when you came back to Gotham.”
“Little shit.” Jason muttered affectionately. When the nurses left, he picked up the clipboard hanging at the end of the bed and began flipping through the pages. “So…high school. But not sweethearts.”
Bernard laughed a little, still sitting on the couch with Dick. “No, definitely not. I thought I was the coolest thing since sliced bread and Tim was…Tim. Besides, neither of us knew we were bi and then life happened and we drifted apart. But I kept thinking about him and wondering how he was, what he was doing. When I finally DM’d him I was shocked he even replied. It was like we picked up where we left off. All I could think about was how lucky I was.”
Dick couldn’t help but smile as Bernard gazed at Tim with an adoring look. The same adoring look he had when Tim introduced him to his family and was so excited he kept tripping over his words. How could Tim ever doubt Bernard’s feelings for him?
But the adoration didn’t last long. Bernard’s leg started jiggling and he squeezed the phone in his lap. The way he looked between it and Tim wasn’t missed by Dick or Jason. The latter was watching him over the top of the clipboard.
“What’s wrong?” Dick asked in his best ‘you can tell my anything’ big brother voice. “If you need to talk, we can talk.”
Abruptly Bernard stood, going back to the armchair. “No, I just–it’s–I was reading the news and…” He reached for Tim’s hand, muscle jumping in his cheek as he debated his next words. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not mine to share anyway.”
“The news. You mean the videos and pictures of Robin being shot?” Jason asked casually, putting the clipboard away and going back to his seat by the bed. They'd seen them. After seeing the video filled with bystanders gawking as their brother bled out, Jason had to take a brisk walk around the parking garage to calm down.
“Oh, is this part of your conspiracy? Tim was telling me about it.” They were trying to act casual but Dick couldn’t tell if it was working. All he could see were Jason’s sharp eyes focused on Bernard’s hands, body slouched in the chair in a precise way that would allow him to lunge forward and protect Tim if needed. Sure, Bernard was a fan of Batman and Robin, but Tim’s worries were valid. Would he be a fan of Tim being Robin? Or being lied to?
Bernard cringed a little. “Kinda? There’s several videos and pictures out there of Batman carrying Robin out and even though they were scrubbed like immediately, it has people speculating. Of course he had the domino mask on and Batman covered him with the cape but you could see in one frame where…”
The air grew taut in the room. It was a delicate glass balanced precariously on the edge of the table, ready to tip over and shatter with the softest breath. No one moved. Bernard stared at his boyfriend’s face while Dick and Jason stared at him, their faces impassive but bodies at the ready.
“Finish your thought.” All eyes flew to Damian, head still in Dick’s lap. His eyes were open now, though only Dick could see them and the dangerous glint in them.
“It looks like he was shot in the throat.” Bernard said in a rush. “And Tim was shot in the throat at the same party and that means–”
“Don’t say it out loud.” Jason hissed and Bernard’s mouth snapped shut, nostrils flaring. Jason yanked the door open and peered down the hall. "You never know who is listening."
“Oh my God.” Bernard breathed, sinking into the armchair. “Oh God, that means…” He pressed a hand to his mouth. Damian sat up as Dick crossed the room to Bernard. He had a feeling what revelation was happening now as worlds merged. “The video, the pictures, that was– he was–he was shot.” Dick crouched in front of the chair, a hand on his knee as Bernard looked at him with watery eyes. There was a new fear in them, an almost primal one that made all coherent thoughts cease. “There was so much blood on the ground and his suit and his face. Tim's blood.” Bernard whispered as the tears fell.
“Yes, there was.” Dick hugged Bernard, feeling the tremors rolling through him. “But Tim’s safe now. Batman got him here in time, he’s had surgery, and he’s going to be alright. I know this is a lot–”
“You know.” It was a statement. Bernard pulled back, looking wildly around the room. “All of you knew he was...”
“Not our secret to share.” Jason said quietly. He was leaning against the door, arms crossed. “And I need to know right now if you plan on keeping it that way or not.”
Bernard gawked. “Are you insane? Of course! Of course I will, it’s Tim! You think I would sell out my fucking boyfriend–”
“Might I remind you that normal people are sleeping?” Damian interrupted.
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be quieter.”
“And if Tim ever stops being your boyfriend?” Jason pushed off the door, coming closer.
“I swear, I’ll never tell anyone. Ever.”
“Thank you.” Dick said in a much more diplomatic voice as he sat on the edge of the bed. Too much was happening at once and he could see how tense Bernard was, sitting on the edge of the armchair now. “Jason, stop looming.”
“No wonder he's always bruised and covered in cuts, he's not that bad at skateboarding. Wait, if he’s…then he knows who Batman is.” Delight spread over Bernard’s face until he suddenly cringed again. “And he still listens to all my theories.”
“Listens and loves them.” Grinning, Dick nudged Bernard’s leg with his foot. “He was especially flattered when you said Robin was an immortal demigod that doesn’t age.”
“Well yeah, it’s always someone young and crazy good at everything despite that so of course it has to be one person frozen in their youth! Unless–” He looked up, eyes bouncing between them.
Dick shook his head, mouth turned down in comical disagreement. “Don’t think too hard about it right now. Better to rest before you short circuit.”
---
Rest turned out to be hard to come by. It felt like nurses kept coming in and out every five minutes, doing all the extra monitoring Tim required. When Dick woke up around five thirty, he barely glanced at the person bent over the bed, expecting another nurse.
Until they whispered, "I'm here, son." Bruce. Dick sat up, watching as his father ran a hand over Tim's hair and kissed his forehead. "I'm so sorry, my sweet boy. It should’ve been me."
“Dad.” It was barely a whisper and yet Bruce heard him. Damian was sleeping tucked up against Jason now so Dick was free to cross the room and crash into Bruce’s arms. All the tension coiled in him, neglected and pushed aside while he cared for everyone else, began to finally unwind. And Bruce must’ve known because he simply held Dick for several long, silent minutes, thumb rubbing slow circles into the back of his neck.
When he found his voice again, Dick whispered "Are you okay?" Because no one who was 'okay' wished that it was their body a bullet had torn through. He would know.
"I..." Bruce started but his words trailed off. Instead he held Dick tighter for a moment. And then it passed and his dad was collected once more. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Tonight brought up a lot of difficult memories. I brought essentials for all of you and some snacks. I can also watch over them if you need a break.”
Dick shook his head. “That didn’t take you hours so you better come up with a better excuse. We said lawyers and police.”
“Smart boys.” He stepped back and looked at Dick in the dim orange light, no doubt seeing the half-moon bruises under his eyes. “You should try and get a little more sleep. I’ll stay up with Tim.”
Too tired to argue, Dick nodded. Shoving Jason’s stretched out leg aside, he curled up on the couch again and prayed the nurses were done for the night.
---
Apparently three hours was all the extra sleep he was going to get. But Dick didn’t mind. The room was peaceful as the sunrise began slipping in through the blinds. On the other end of the couch, Jason was slowly waking up, eyes opening with slow blinks and then fluttering shut. He still had an arm around Damian.
“He okay?” Dick asked in hushed tones.
It seemed Jason gave up the fight because his eyes stayed closed as he nodded. “Just needed some reassurance.”
Despite the emotional rollercoaster he went on, Bernard was also still sleeping. Maybe he was relieved to know the truth rather than just nagging, anxious suspicions. Instead of a worried frown, he looked calm with the thin blanket tucked up to his chin, one hand still holding Tim’s. Dick snapped a picture. Maybe one day they’d want to see it, when the pain and worry wasn’t so fresh and they could appreciate the sweet gesture for what it was.
They all jumped when Jason's phone buzzed on the table.
Swearing fiercely, Jason staggered to his feet and fumbled for the phone. Damian let out an annoyed whine and Dick patted his ankle.
"What the hell, Bruce?" Jason grunted when he answered the phone call, rubbing his eyes as he left the room.
“You doing okay? Got some sleep?” Dick asked a dazed looking Bernard.
Bernard nodded and yawned. “But I kept waking up since the nurses were coming and going.” Damian groaned in agreement as he sat up and finally pushed down his hood. “That doesn’t mean something’s wrong, right?”
“Don’t worry, it’s just precautions. The same way Tim takes preventative antibiotics.” And then he tried to take his own advice and not dwell on what so much trauma could mean for a weak immune system. Tim was resilient. Last night he almost bled out and this morning his coloring looked healthy again, his hands weren't quite so cold. Dick adjusted Tim’s blankets and reminded himself that their Red Robin was a fighter.
He was saved from his thoughts by Jason shoving open the door, a box of bagels in his arms and Bruce on his heels. “He needed help picking flavors we liked.”
Bernard suddenly sat up straight. “Mr. Wayne.”
Bruce clapped him on the shoulder. “Bernard. There’s enough breakfast for all of you, so please help yourself. I'm sure the boys already said it but please don't feel like you need to leave if you don't have to. I’m glad you’re here and I’m sure Tim will be too."
“Thank you.” Bernard hurried over to the table where the bagels were already being divvied up.
Damian smirked. “Don’t look so scared. Father doesn’t bite.”
“I’m not scared, I just can’t look him in the eye without thinking ‘Brucie Warbucks’.” Bernard grumbled and Jason laughed so hard he almost choked on his bagel.
Damian whacked him on the back while whispering “When are we going to tell him that Bernard knows.”
“I don’t see a reason to right now.” Jason shrugged and took another bite.
“Do I tell Tim?” Bernard asked. “Will he be upset?”
“Doubtful,” said Damian.
“I think you should talk to him about it when he wakes up, that way he doesn’t need to worry about making up a cover story. But,” Dick handed him a sliced bagel and plastic knife, “you’ve got time before that happens.”
“Good morning, Tim.” Those two words, soft spoken and joyful, shut them up. Bruce was leaning over the bed, one hand on Tim’s head. He looked back at them with a smile. “Everyone's here.”
Dick rushed forward, breakfast forgotten. Tim was alive and with a dreamy expression on his face from the sedatives. All that mattered was seeing his little brother smiling as he gave them a little wave, throat too sore to speak.
“You’re awake much sooner than expected.” Damian teased and Tim winked.
“There’s someone special here who wants to see you, Timmy.” Dick beckoned for Bernard to come closer as his siblings stepped out of the way. The dreaminess vanished and for a second, it looked like Tim might cry.
Bernard also looked close to tears, chin wobbling as he took Tim’s hand and kissed the back of it. He looked at Dick, swallowing hard. “Can I talk to him? Now?”
“Absolutely.” Jason answered. “Let’s go have our own chat, B.” Not waiting for an answer, Jason guided Bruce towards the door, Damian following.
Dick sat on the edge of the bed. “You feel up for some ASL? Doctors said you shouldn’t be talking right now.” When Tim signed yes, Dick looked at Bernard. “You talk, I’ll translate his replies. Keep in mind he’s coming off of some heavy drugs so short and sweet is probably best.”
Bernard nodded, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeves. “Tim I…I know the truth. I figured out who you are. And how you really got shot.”
Tim’s eyes snapped open, hands signing as quickly as the IV in his arm would allow. “Are you mad?” Dick said softly. “I promise I only hid it to protect you and my teammates.”
“No! God, no, I’m not mad you didn’t tell me. I get it. I mean it’s batshit crazy–” Bernard and Tim both smiled at that, “but I think I’m wrapping my head around it and we can definitely talk more when you’re better. I just wanted you to know…you don’t have to hide it anymore.”
Tim blinked rapidly, looking up at the ceiling panels briefly, before signing. “I’m relieved. All I wanted was for you to know every part of me,” translated Dick, “But I was scared you might not like it.”
Bernard made a wounded noise and grabbed Tim’s hand, stepping even closer. “Not like it? Tim, I love every part of you.”
When a tear rolled down Tim’s face, Dick patted his leg and got up from the bed. “Don’t talk too much.” He said with a grin and slipped out of the room, no doubt to tell everyone exactly what was happening.
None of that mattered. Tim reached up and pulled the oxygen mask down, staring up at his boyfriend in awe. “You love me?” His whisper was low and rough, each vibration sending pinpricks of pain through his neck. But the words were worth it.
“Isn’t that what I just said?” Bernard was smiling, no, beaming, “I love you.”
“Great.” The absolute biggest grin split Tim’s face and he pulled Bernard’s hand to his mouth, kissing each of his knuckles reverently. “Because I love you too.”
Bernard laughed through his tears. “Think you’re medically cleared for a kiss?”
Tim rolled his eyes. “I don’t really care. Besides, the doctors said I shouldn’t talk.”
“No wonder you’re a detective with brains like that.”
They were laughing when Bernard leaned down and kissed him. Tim’s hands immediately found his face, one tangling in his blond hair, the other cupping his cheek. Maybe it was the drugs but he felt like he was melting, warmth pouring into him with each shared breath. Nowhere felt safer than Bernard’s embrace.
All too quickly Bernard pulled back, smiling against Tim’s lips. “I think we need to stop.”
“Why? My neck is fine.” Mostly.
“But your pulse is sky high.”
Only when he said it did Tim register the frantic beeping in the background and rapid green spikes racing across the monitor. “Whoops.” They burst out laughing again, this time with a distinct note of relief amongst the joy.
With their foreheads still pressed together, Tim let his eyes slide closed as he ran his fingers through Bernard’s hair, relishing the fingers tracing patterns on his own skin. Even as his throat began to ache fiercely, this– them –felt good. Comfortable. No more secrets at last. Tim opened his eyes, staring into dancing green. These would be his last words for a while. He wanted them to count and see them light Bernard’s face.
“I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you too, Boy Wonder.”
