Work Text:
Jason plucks Tim out of the air with a trill, clutching the bony kid to his chest for a second— before setting him back on even ground.
Tim blinks, disoriented from his near tumble off the ladder.
“Thanks, Jay.”
Dick’s head pops up from the nest, a startled warble ringing in the air that Jason replies to with a sharp whistle.
He told Tim not to go on there without someone securing it first. That ladder is a household accident waiting to happen. Jason swears Tim has a death wish sometimes, just climbing up there like gravity is more of a suggestion than a law of nature.
Dick coos worriedly, already in the process of disentangling himself from the nest of heated blankets and pillows, but Jason hoots at him— and the Talon plops back down with a huff.
“Thanks my ass, Timmy. I told you to be careful!”
Tim’s expression turns positively mulish. “I’m not a baby, I can-“
“Split your head against the floorboards-“
“At worst it would have been a concussion! That was like, what, thirty centimeters?”
“Basically a skyscraper for someone your size!”
Tim squawks in affront, face flushing, “I’m almost the same size as you. And you’re older.”
Irritation flares low in Jason’s stomach — it’s not his fuckin’ fault that food was scarce growing up — but before he can retort with something that carries much more vitriol Dick trills, sharp and decisive, and they both fall quiet with a huff, just sort of glaring at each other, until—
“C’mon, Timmers,“ Jason sighs, bending down to retrieve the ornament he’d been in the process of hanging up. A small bird made from clay, painted in the colors of Robin. His ornament. It will go on a branch adjacent to the one that holds an ornament in the shape of an owl. “We gotta get this done before Alfie and Bruce come back.“
Tim frowns, standing still for another few seconds before he reaches into the box to pull out another ornament and join Jason beside the tree with silent footsteps.
“Why?“ He asks, slipping the loop over a low hanging branch that droops with the added weight, and what’s left of Jason’s previous annoyance evaporates into thin air. It’s hard to stay mad at the baby bird when the sole reason he’s here is because Jason and Dick were lucky enough to witness the call from his parents telling him they’re “so sorry, Timothy, but the governor requested our assistance in a newly excavated city down in Egypt. You understand that, don’t you? Good boy. Merry Christmas, Timothy. Father and I send our love.“
…Well, that’s not all they said. But halfway through Dick had to literally sit on him to stop Jason from wrangling the phone out of Tim’s hands and give those assholes a piece of his mind. Who leaves their own child alone one Christmas? Even Willis hadn’t done that.
So anyway, Tim is spending Christmas at the manor. And however long it takes for his stupid parents to be assed to come back and check up on their kid in person. Like, Jesus… if Tim wasn’t telling them about all the stuff they do together and the trips they got planned for the summer, he would have suspected this isn’t the first time his parents pulled that shit. Not with the way Tim had just taken that bullshit explanation without fussin’.
But hey, what does Jason know. They sounded grateful enough when Bruce called and asked permission to have Tim over for the Holidays. Maybe that’s just how rich families are supposed to work.
At least the non-vigilante kind.
And he shouldn’t get mad at the kid either way. ’S not his fault he’s going through a rough patch right now…
“Because Dickie’s gonna want to watch Home Alone, and once everyone’s in the den he’ll want to cuddle. And once you’re in the nest there’s no getting out before the movie’s done. And only for short bathroom break,“ Because Dick’s never more clingy than during the cold season, when holiday and snow coincide. Sometimes Jason thinks those Court bastards mast have mixed up their owl DNA with an octopus. He certainly hugs like one. “It’s like, a whole thing. Last time Bruce’s work phone rang while we were in the nest Dick snatched it and threw it out the window.“
Tim makes an intrigued little sound, eyes flitting to where the Talon is watching them through lidded eyes, their yellow glow concealed by blue contact lenses. It sucks a bit that Dick has to wear them practically all times of the day with Tim around, but they all agreed it’s a small price to pay in this case. And if Tim hadn’t been here, Dick would have insisted on checking up on him at least once either way. So, still a win. Because if there’s one thing Jason absolutely loathes then it’s Dick being an idiot and going out in sub zero temperatures. Especially without his thermal suit. Having him in a warm nest with electric blankets and pillows— nice and relaxed and cooing every other second to make sure they’re still here with him— is much more preferable.
Tim snickers, “I would have loved to see Mr Wayne’s face.“
“Yeah, not gonna lie, that was hilarious. He looked like a startled goldfish. An’ Dickie was just bein’ all smug and sprawled on top of ‘im. I think I burst a vein laughin’ my ass off. It was the new prototype from Wayne Tech, too. So when he brought that back after Christmas to get it repaired— they basically had to start from scratch cuz’ the cold fried the processors or something.“ At least that’s the official version, because ‘my ward pinpointed the exact location of the processor with his totally normal hearing and then punched through it with a clawed finger’ would have been under a lot more scrutiny for sure.
“Was it effective at least?“
Jason looks over to Dick, “Very. Bruce used his bathroom break before starting on the second movie to hide his laptop and tablet.“
“Didn’t hide them good,“ the Talon throws in pleasantly, throwing one arm out over the edge of the nest in a languid stretch, “Knew they were on top of the bookshe-lf.“
“The fear in B’s eyes when you told him was phenomenal.“
Dick grins for a second, all teeth, before his phone chimes with an incoming text and his head disappears back into the mountain of blankets.
Tim slides another ornament— a little stylised lightning bolt, courtesy of Dick’s new friend— on an empty branch before stepping back to consider its placement, head tilted thoughtfully. It’s a little too close to the robin and owl ornaments for Jason’s taste, but he’s self aware enough to realise when he’s being jealous. Something that’s admittedly very stupid, considering Jason is super happy that Dick’s finally found some real friends to hang out and go on missions with. It’s just— the principle of things. They’d never been apart longer than a few hours at a time for years, and now Dick is considering going on a three day mission with the Titans—
Jason is loathe to admit that it makes him anxious.
Still, this is… good. And Jason’s met Wally, and Donna, and Roy, and Garth. They’re real cool people. Nice people. It’s healthy for Dick to start building his own social circle, or whatever the hell Alfred called it. “Shows his progress“, or some shit.
Well, tough. Because all Jason can see is that Dick’s leaving him and—
Okay, no. No, this isn’t ’leaving him’. Jason knows with utmost certainty that if he so much as hinted to Dick that he doesn’t want him to leave, the Talon wouldn’t hesitate to break off all contact with the Titans and smother Jason in hugs and coos and affectionate little hoots. And Jason can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair. He’s happy for Dick. Jason’s brain is just being stupid.
They’ll have to get used to not being constantly around each other eventually. And this seems like a good enough place to start. Slow and steady. It’s just a few days, and they’ll even get to keep comms open whenever they want!
(But it’s so easy for days to turn into weeks turn into months until Jason is alone all over again and—)
So yeah, Jason’s just being an insecure little shit. And damn if he’s gonna act on it and be all needy and whiny. He can deal with this. And also, he’s got Tim. So that’s cool. And if Bruce is being a dick (ha!) he can just hang out at the Drake’s until he knows what to do next. Or until Dick gets back. Whatever happens first.
“What about the star?”
Jason hums, half turning away from where he’s trying to secure an angel with a mini harp to a branch that’s just out reach and— ah, gotcha.
“Alfred is gonna put it up there. Dick used to, but then he brought the whole tree down one Christmas, and B accidentally snapped the whole thing in half right after. Only time I ever heard Alfie curse.”
“Mad,” Dick agrees absently, chirruping a quiet laugh to whatever he’s reading.
“Yeah, super mad. But he got a whole new tree in like— an hour. We still don’t know how.”
“Any new tree stumps out in the yard?” Tim asks drily, fumbling with a funny little bell ornament. Jason taps his wrist and demonstrates how to twist the string so it doesn’t get all tangled up before returning to a batch of baubles in reds and greens, contemplating where to put them.
“None! That’s the weird part! I spent all day with Dickie searching!”
“I mean, Mr. Pennyworth probably wouldn’t have been able to fell an entire tree on his own either way, right?“
“I dunno, Timmers. Sometimes I think Alfie could be Batman and it wouldn’t surprise me.“
Tim shoots him a strange look, but before Jason can think too hard about it there’s a commotion from down the hall and the sound of the main door opening and closing with a resounding bang that makes both boys jump.
Dick’s head pops up from the nest instantly, eyes razor sharp and calculating as he listens for sounds neither Tim nor Jason could ever hope to pick up on with their measly human capabilities. But after a long, tense moment in which Jason watches Dick’s body language closely for any indication that he’ll have to get Tim to safety and call help stat— Dick blinks, alertness washing out of him with a welcoming little hoot that’s promptly echoed with another, deeper— and kind of funny sounding— version just outside the den.
And then Bruce appears around the corner, clad in a ridiculously expensive coat that looks about ready to burst with that awful Christmas sweater underneath that Dick and Jason got him last year. But what’s worse—
“Are you wearing shades?“ Jason asks, appalled, and gestures vaguely at the windows where literally no daylight remains in the darkness of a winter evening in Gotham. “The hell, B?“
Bruce, in true Brucie fashion, slides the glasses off his nose with a totally unconvincing pout, “My secretary said they look ‘rad‘.“
“Your secretary wants a raise.“
“Oh! Well, I suppose it is the time of the year that I should—“
“B-“
“Fine! But, nobody said darkness doesn’t have that harmful kind of, hm, what was it… radiation? Daylight does. It’s called being responsible, Jaylad. Eyes are a very important part of your body!“
“Who the fuck-“
“Language,“ Alfred cuts in primly, entering right after Bruce with an exasperated little frown, “Good evening, young sirs. I see you have made wonderful progress on this year’s tree. And the manor is not on fire. My, is this what they call a Christmas Miracle?“
Jason scoffs, “Not setting stuff on fire is much easier without B around.“
“No burning food,“ Dick agrees, nose scrunched with the memory of the man’s latest— failed— attempt at pancakes that ended with Dick grabbing Jason and booking it out the front door after Bruce somehow got a literal pan to catch on fire. Which, yeah. Gotta be a record or some shit.
“Yes, I’d imagine,“ Alfred throws a dark look at Bruce, who just keeps smiling lazily in that awful Brucie fashion that’s making Jason’s skin crawl with irritation that has less to do with the front he’s putting up for Tim, and all to do with the way he’d been criticising Jason’s bantering with criminals just yesterday and— alright. Getting off topic. It’s Christmas, and Jason doesn’t wanna get in a fight with Bruce in front of Tim. And he wants Dick to look at him all sad and worried even less. So, playing nice it is. He’ll just have to duke it out with Batman another day and finally show him he’s not just a snot nosed little kid anymore. He’ll be sixteen in less than a year, for Christ’s sake! He can handle himself!
“Now, I seem to remember that there’s still some dinner to prepare. And I do believe you have earned yourself a hot chocolate for your wonderful work, no?“
Dick chirrups in excitement, hauling himself up onto his elbows with shining eyes.
“Yes, master Dick. I shall add extra honey and sugar.“
The talon fist pumps the air before collapsing back into the mountain of blankets dramatically, warbling and chittering something unintelligible that only vaguely resembles the human language.
“I think that’s our cue,“ Bruce says fondly, shrugging out of his coat before walking over to the huge flat screen and snatching up the remote.
Dick chirps, a familiar sound that goes straight down into Jason’s bones and pulls him forward and into the nest on instinct. Dick doesn’t even wait for Jason to clamber inside himself, just seizes him around the middle and pulls until he loses his footing and goes tumbling straight into Dick’s chest with a little “oof“ before twisting around far enough to pop his head back up with a huff, “A little warning next time, Dickface.“
“Took too long,“ Dick shrugs, before his eyes zero in on an awkward Tim, still clutching a gold and red Christmas ornament. Dick chirps again, louder and more insistent this time, and frowns in puzzlement when Tim just looks a bit confused and even more unsure.
Jason rolls his eyes at Dick and stretches a hand out, fingers wiggling, “That’s for you. He wants you to come in the nest, Timmers.“
His heart twists right out of his rib cage with the way Tim’s face lights up, hurriedly putting the baubles down before gingerly climbing into the nest beside them, settling into the cushions with a straight back and legs folded like he’s about to to be questioned by the authorities. Jason and Dick just raise an eyebrow at each other, grab one bony elbow each, and then haul the spluttering boy right into the squishy cuddle pile.
Tim flails for a moment, overwhelmed, before he just— melts. The way he always tends to do. Sandwiched halfway between Dick, Jason, and a fluffy Wonder Woman blanket Jason knows the bird brain stole from his room and then acted all innocent about when asked.
Dick coos, soft and affectionate, and Jason cheeps back on instinct before flopping his head down onto Dick’s collar bone and slinging one arm across Tim’s stomach. He sticks his tongue out when the boy ’oomphs’ quietly and shoots him a half hearted glare, but soon after the kid’s small hand fists lightly into the hem of Jason’s hoodie, so he’s probably forgiven.
“B, all done?“
“All done, chum,“ Bruce appears over the nest like a shadow, a light smile curving the edge of his mouth. A real smile. Not the Brucie one. Jason likes this one much better. “Ready to start?“
“No,“ Dick says decisively, shifting them around a little before petting the nest, “Come inside.“
Bruce’s eyes flicker to Tim, to Jason, but when none of them voice their protest he acquiesces and climbs inside, careful not to disturb the expertly erected nest walls and cushions.
Dick shuffles them around a little more, making space for Bruce to curl himself around the three of them like a protective shield.
It’s still a little weird sometimes, Jason thinks. To remember a time when this was his worst nightmare. Back when the manor was a concept that held only terror of the unknown. When he cried into Dick’s arms because he wanted to go back to the clock tower and a nest of ratty blankets.
So much time has passed, so many things have happened, and yet, looking back, it seems like it was only yesterday.
Time is strange like that.
A soft click somewhere behind him and the TV screen lights up, the opening music of Home Alone drifting through the quiet.
Dick chitters happily, squishing them a little closer to Bruce until there’s virtually no space left between any of them, and technically… it’s too warm. The electric blankets, the shared body heat of four people, the nest— it’s a recipe for overheating. But honestly, if anybody tried moving Jason right now…. He would probably throw a batarang at them.
A hand cards through his hair, awkward and clumsy and too large to be anybody but Bruce. And a part of Jason wants to pull away, to be spiteful just for the sake of it, but a larger, more insistent part demands he lean into the gentle ministration and enjoy it. They aren’t Batman and Robin right now, only Bruce and Jason. Everything else can wait for a while.
Jason sighs, relaxing fully into the security of Dick’s arms and the bony line of Tim’s body pressing into his side. Dick chirrups softly into his hair, a sound that says content-warm-safe and makes something frustrated and angry in Jason’s gut uncoil.
He tilts his face towards the TV with one ear pressed to the Talon’s chest, listening to the sluggish heartbeat as much as he does Kevin’s complaints about his relatives, and allows his mind to drift until all he knows is the warmth of his family surrounding him.
And yet, the slip of paper with a single name on it continues to burn a hole into his pocket.