Chapter Text
Dick glanced around the apartment, feeling a bit… anchorless, like a ship floating without anyone piloting.
It was so… empty. They’d brought the couch, the TV, and Dick’s recliner to the new house. The three barstools, tattered and cracked, had been given to the thrift store. The few kitchen utensils and baking pans Dick had were boxed up, sitting on the island. Damian’s bed was already at the new place, and Dick’s bed was pulled apart, mattress and metal frame against the wall.
The little dresser, with the broken drawers, had been put outside to be taken with the trash. Jason had offered to keep it, offered to move it, even when Roy and Bernard had looked at the two of them like they were crazy, but Dick had forced himself to shake his head.
He was moving to a new house. He was leaving the apartment behind, and he didn’t need the stupid little things to remind him, to comfort him, like a kid with a teddy bear. So he’d helped Roy drag it down the stairs, and outside to the curb.
The coffee table went to the new house though; they’d already talked about it, since the house had a living room, and a family room, they were going to have Dick’s couch, and coffee table in one, with Jason and Roy’s work tables, and Roy and Jason’s furniture and coffee table in the other one, with the TV, where they’d eat. Especially since the kitchen in the new place didn’t have an island.
It would be fine. It was a good thing. He’d managed to let go of some things, and hold onto only what was useful. And Jason seemed to understand, because he hadn’t even asked about the blankets, had just boxed them all up, giving Dick a gruff, ‘you can never have too many blankets’ before he’d taped it shut.
Everything was packed up, and either already gone, or ready to go. A box with some knicknacks from Dick’s room, and the shelves, the kitchen utensils, and Dick’s bed was pretty much all that was left. Roy and Jason would be back soon, and they’d get those last few things loaded into the truck, while Tim and Bernard kept an eye on the kids.
He swallowed as he looked around the little apartment again. The new place was… It was amazing. They’d found a nice place in the suburbs, with a tree, and a decent sized backyard, big enough for the kids to play, and Jason to have a garden and patio set. The bedrooms were bigger than the ones at the apartment, and Jason would have a full size kitchen to work with. It had its own little laundry room. Damian and Lee had had rooms that shared a wall, and they’d spent last night having a ‘camp out’ in Lee’s room with her tent.
But it was… The idea of walking out the door, of saying goodbye to the apartment for the last time made something in his chest crack, like he was standing on unsteady ground as he looked around at the only home he’d ever had since his parents had died when he was eleven.
“Hey.”
Dick jumped a bit, startled, as Jason came up behind him. “Hey. Back already?”
“Yeah. Traffic wasn’t too bad. You good?”
“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it’s… It’s just this,” Dick forced himself to try and sound cheery. “The bed, and the two boxes.”
“Alright. Me and Roy can -”
“‘Me and Roy’ cannot,” Roy interrupted, rolling his eyes as he came through the door. “Roy and Dick can take the bed down; ‘me’ can carry the boxes. Carefully.”
Jason huffed a little. “It weighs like twenty pounds,” he pointed out. “It’s fine, I can -”
“You’re supposed to be taking it easy, Jay,” Dick said quietly, giving him a small smile. “We got this.”
“Yeah. Besides, if it’s so light… We can handle it,” Roy said confidently, before he turned to look at Dick. “You all good? Need a minute? We got time, there’s no rush.”
“No. It’s fine. We can just… We’ll get everything downstairs, and I’ll go turn in the keys.” Dick shrugged, hoping it looked more casual than uncomfortable. “No point in hanging around an empty place, right? We’re gonna have to make two trips, one for the mattress, and one for the frame.”
“I could -” Jason started, but Roy cut him off with a quick kiss on the scarred side of his face.
“No, you can’t,” Roy said easily, before moving around to the front of the mattress. “Alright, Dick. Let’s get this show on the road then.”
Dick picked up the back end of the mattress. As they started out the door though, he couldn’t help but be proud of Jason. Or maybe envious of Roy, he wasn’t entirely sure. But Jason took the limitation with nothing more than grumbling and muttering behind them, as he picked up the boxes, and followed them out the door.
Jason pre-Roy would’ve picked up the metal parts of the frame just out of spite, to prove that he could, that he wasn’t helpless. Hell, on a bad day, he might’ve tried to carry the frame and the boxes just to prove a point.
But either Jason was taking the doctor’s warnings seriously, or maybe Roy’s casualness about the situation, because Jason just followed them out the door with the boxes, as Dick and Roy started maneuvering the mattress down the stairs.
It was still early enough in the day that traffic was light; Roy had managed to park the truck right in front of the building, and it didn’t take much effort to get the mattress loaded into the back. Jason set the boxes down on top of it, strapping a tow strap around them, and tightening them down, as Roy grabbed two bottles of water from the truck, rolling one towards Dick, and tossing the other lightly at Jason.
Dick cracked the bottle open, and took a few sips, while Jason practically chugged half the bottle. Admittedly, Gotham at the end of August was nightmarishly hot, and while Dick was in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Jason was in his traditional long-sleeve shirt, and leather jacket.
The new house had air conditioning, which was… It was gonna take some getting used to. And not just one of the window units that cooled down a room, but that blew through the vents like a furnace. For the first time in… well… probably ever, Dick could just turn on the A/C instead of putting a fan up, or just dealing with the heat and humidity.
Dick wanted to move. He wanted to get out of the apartment, and move someplace nicer, someplace with air conditioning. It was a good thing, and he was excited about it. Damian and Lee would be starting school in two weeks, in a nice school. Damian would have a backyard to play in, and with the three of adults, there’d be somebody to look after the kids constantly. Jason liked cooking, so Damian would be eating healthier. And since they’d have more money coming in, they could take the kids and do things, like normal parents.
“Dick?”
He jerked a bit, startled. “Huh? Yeah. Sorry. I’m gonna… just gonna go turn the keys in, then I can grab the frame if you want.”
“Nah, I can run up and grab it real quick,” Roy said casually, giving him a smile. “Jaybird, why don’t you hop in the truck, then I can get it started and cooling off.”
Jason rolled his eyes, but he drained the rest of the water before moving around the truck to get in the driver’s seat, holding his hands out for the keys. Roy threw them his way, before falling back in line with Dick, moving towards the building.
“You good? Anything else in there you want?” Roy asked quietly as they opened the door to the building. “We can do a final run-through if you want, Jaybird won’t mind.”
Dick shook his head. “No, I…” He sucked in a deep breath as he stared at the stairwell leading up to the third floor. How many times had he walked up those steps, exhausted beyond belief? To find Tim with breakfast ready, or Jason sleeping on the couch? How many times had he come home from the studio to find Damian curled up on the couch while Stephanie did her homework?
“If I go up now… I’m not gonna…” He floundered a bit. He couldn’t bring himself to say he wouldn’t be able to leave; he would, and he knew it, but right now… There was an annoying, almost irritating feeling running along his skin, across his scalp, but he could ignore it. Could fight it down. If he went back upstairs, and went back into the apartment… It’d get worse. It was easier to just… not. But he wasn’t quite sure how to put that into words without sounding crazy.
Luckily, Roy seemed to understand, giving him an easy smile. “Alright. I’ll do a run through, make sure we didn’t miss anything, then bring the frame down and meet you in the truck.”
Dick nodded, feeling a bit of the stress easing up. After all, it was already over. He was out of the apartment. There was still more to do, but… The hard part, at least, was over.
Bypassing the stairwell, he walked down the hallway, to the building manager’s apartment. Mr. Lugisi had been the building manager for… well, probably since the building was made in the forties, and that was only a slight exaggeration. He’d been the one to give Dick and Ms. Lance their tour of the place, back before the trial was even finished. He’d been the one to give Dick the paperwork to sign, and he’d been the one that Dick had dutifully given his rent to, month after month, year after year.
Dick knocked on the door, waiting patiently as he heard Mr. Lugisi loudly grumbling from behind the door. The old man always took at least a few minutes to get to the door, his cane clattering as he did, then he’d yank the door open, looking grumpy.
Sure enough…
“Oh. S’you,” the old man said, his brows bunched up as he stared. “All done?”
“I uh… yeah,” Dick said slowly. “Got everything moved out. And… and you have my contact number, if… if anything’s wrong.”
Mr. Lugisi waved his hand dismissively. “I trust you, boy. You been one a my best tenants.” To Dick’s shock, the man reached out, and offered him his gnarled hand. “You and your brothers… You boys did good for yourself. While I hate to lose you, m’glad you’re gettin’ outta here. Bigger n’ better. But you boys did good, after everything. Hell, I remember when y’all were tiny little wisps, and just look at you now.”
Dick shook the man’s hand slowly, swallowing around the lump building in his throat. “I uh… Thanks, Mr. Lugisi. You uh… We appreciate everything.”
The man grunted. “Mmhmm. Well. Gimme the keys then, and go on. Get outta here to your new place. Take care a that boy a yours; he’s a good kid.”
“I… I will. Thank you again,” Dick said quietly, handing the man the two keys to the apartment.
“See ya around, kid. Behave yourself.” With that, Mr. Lugisi closed the door, and Dick stood there for a second, listening to the sound of the cane against the floor, before he could force himself to move again.
That… that was it. It was done.
It was surreal. He felt… strangely detached from himself, as he walked out to the truck, both weightless and heavy, his feet moving almost of their own accord, like he was just watching, and his body was doing its own thing.
Roy was already in the truck, sitting in the middle next to Jason. He reached over and swung the door open when he spotted Dick, giving him a smile.
“All good?”
“Yeah,” Dick said slowly. “It’s… It’s all set.”
“Alright. Let’s get to the new place ‘fore traffic gets bad,” he said, as Dick slid into the truck.
“You good, Dick?” Jason asked, as he pulled the truck away from the curb, and into traffic.
“I uh… yeah. I’ll be fine.”
And he would be. It would take some time to adjust, but… He’d managed to readjust everything, after Jack’s, managed one major life upheaval. He could do it again. It was just a place, after all, and he was going to be with family. It was all going to be fine.
Chapter Text
Things were… good.
Better than good, really. Roy looked around at his backyard, at the kids playing on the wooden playset, at Jason and Bernard talking while Jason grilled, at Tim running around after the kids, pretending to be a monster, at Dick sitting next to him on the wooden porch swing, watching everyone else.
It was so suburban family that Roy honestly was still having a hard time believing it. The years when it’d been just him and Lian, he hadn’t believed this sort of thing would ever be in the cards for him. Not after Jade, and Ollie, and everything that went along with it, not after he’d nearly destroyed his life. Ten years ago, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine that all of this was something he could have.
He glanced over at Dick again, and smiled. Because to be fair, ten years ago, Dick probably wouldn’t have believed this was something he could’ve had either.
“No, you can’t just…” Jason was staring at Bernard, looking almost horrified. “You can’t cook steaks in a normal frying pan.”
“Why?” Bernard asked, sounding curious. “It’s basically the same thing, Tim does it sometimes.”
“Don’t say that, man. Jesus. C’mon, I can’t have failed him that bad. Jenny will have a heart attack,” Jason said, opening the grill, and flipping the burgers. Which… Roy wasn’t entirely sure why they were talking about steaks when Jason was doing burgers and hot dogs, but it was nice to see him looking so relaxed. Hell, even Dick looked relaxed, which is… Almost completely uncharted territory here.
“It’s not that different!”
“Richard. We have failed Timbelina. And he in turn has failed his boyfriend,” Jason said with a snort. “It is different. You can pan sear steaks, but you can’t just cook ‘em up like… like they’re a hot dog. That’s ruining a perfectly good steak.”
Dick shrugged. “Don’t look at me; you’re the one who taught him how to cook. I just tended the bar and served what you and Jenny made.”
Jason turned, giving Dick a disbelieving look. “I… what? No, you were in the back with us. Like… a lot,” he said slowly, almost unsurely. “You used to help Jenny make the mac’n’cheese and shit.”
“Well… yeah, but that was just… I helped out,” Dick said, shrugging again. “You did all the hard work. I just made sure nothing burnt down.”
Given the look on Jason’s face, Roy’s willing to bet Dick probably did as much cooking as Jason did. However, he also wasn’t ready for any serious poking at old wounds and insecurities, so he quickly stepped in to add, “To be fair, Jaybird… I cooked some flank steaks on pans sometimes.”
“Heathens. I’m surrounded by heathens, and -” He cut off sharply, his leg dipping a bit. Immediately, before Roy or Dick could even react, Bernard was pulling the rocking patio chair over.
“Here. Sit,” the blond man ordered gently, helping him into the chair. “Just take it easy for a bit. You can teach me the proper grilling instructions, so maybe Tim and I can stop eating take-out five nights a week,” he added with a smile, as he snagged the metal spatula from Jason’s hand.
Jason, who’d looked ready to argue at first, stared suspiciously for a few seconds, before sighing. “Fine,” he grumbled, leaning back in the chair. “But only ‘cause at least one of you should know how to cook a damn burger.”
Roy opened his mouth to comment on that -because even he could make a burger, really -when the doorbell rang.
And wasn’t that novel as all hell. A freaking doorbell. Probably not so much the first time he got a ding-dong-ditch, but still. He pulled himself out of the chair, waving Dick back down.
“I got it. We let you answer the door to the new neighbors, and they’ll go thinkin’ we’re all normal and respectable,” he joked, moving through the open sliding glass door -another novelty -and towards the front door.
Between Dick and Bernard -while Tim played with the kids, Jason worked on the kitchen, and Roy was politely relegated to anything but unpacking - most of the boxes were already unpacked, and put away, the furniture already set; nobody would believe they’d moved in four days ago, and just brought the last of the stuff that day.
He swung the door open, and was surprised to see a young woman in a wheelchair standing -sitting?- there with a plate of cookies.
“Hi! I’m Barbara, your neighbor two doors down,” she said, giving him a smile. “Wanted to stop by and say ‘hi’, and my dad made cookies.”
Roy looked down at the cookies. “Oh, nice! Hi, I’m Roy. Um… Would you like to come in for a minute? I’ve got -”
“Dad! Can we play with the new water guns?” Lian’s voice could probably be heard in outer space. She was definitely enjoying being in a house, and not having to be quiet for the neighbors.
“No, Lee, we’re gonna have dinner soon,” he called back, before turning his attention back to the woman at the door. “Sorry, uh… You wanna come in? The kids are loud, but they don’t bite. We’re just doin’ up hot dogs and burgers in the backyard, but you’re welcome to join us if you want?”
Barbara chuckled a bit. “Normally I would, but my dad’s supposed to be home soon, and he gets worried that I’ve rolled into a drainage ditch somewhere if I’m not there when he gets back.”
Roy almost choked on his own spit trying to bite back his laugh. “Is there a reason he’s worried about that?”
“If there was, I’d never tell,” she said, smirking. “But, before I go… If you’re interested, I work at the library down on Coit and Beaumont, and we do a kid’s hour sort of thing, from three thirty to five thirty every Wednesday if you’re interested. We do crafts, while a volunteer reads a book, and there’s juice and cookies or brownies or muffins. It’s a good way to meet other parents, for the kids to hang out with friends…”
“Oh. Nice, yeah, we… We’ll bring them down sometime. And if you and your dad ever need help or anything… Just let us know,” Roy offered. “We’re mostly second shifters or overnights, but there should always be somebody home.”
Barbara smiled at him. “Sounds good. I’m pretty self-sufficient though, so -”
“Oh! Shit, no, not like…” Roy felt his face heating up. “No, not like… Well, I mean if you need help or somethin’ like that, yeah, go ahead and let us know, but like… You know, you need the trash taken out or heavy shit moved. Not ‘cause you can’t do it, but ‘cause… you know, if you need extra hands or whatever.”
Luckily, she laughed, which was good because Roy was at least ninety percent positive that the whole interaction was in his Top Ten most embarrassing. “Well, thank you, I do appreciate it. Same to you though, if you -”
“Roy, Jay wanted me to tell you food’s done, and -” Dick stopped a few feet back. “Oh. Uh… Hi.”
“Hi there,” Barbara said without batting an eye. “I’m Barbara, your neighbor, two doors down. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Dick,” Dick said slowly. “Hi. Nice to meet you too. Um, Roy, Jay said the burgers are done.”
“Sounds good. Well, if you’re sure you’re not hungry…?” Roy offered one more time.
“No, thank you though. Like I said, my dad gets worried. But if you have any questions or… you know, need a cup of flour or whatever, let me know,” she said, chuckling as she carefully turned her wheelchair around, and went down the little step off the raised cement walkway. “Nice meeting you!”
“You too! Thanks for the cookies!” Roy called after her, before he closed the door. When he turned, Dick was still standing there, looking at him oddly. “What?”
“Just… she brought us cookies?” Dick asked, looking at the plate in his hand.
Roy just shrugged. “Yeah. Guess that’s the neighborly thing to do. C’mon, let’s go get some food, huh?” He patted Dick on the back, before heading out towards the kitchen, and the patio.
When they got there, everybody else was already sitting, the two kids at their little plastic picnic table, and everyone else on the patio chairs with the plates on their laps. Jason nodded with his head towards the grill, where two plates were setting.
“Had Timbert plate ‘em up, so if there’s mustard, you can blame him,” Jason said with a snort, and Roy couldn’t help but chuckle.
“If there is, I suppose I’ll just die then,” Roy joked, giving Tim a grin as he grabbed his plate, and sat down. Dick followed suit, sitting down in-between Jason and Bernard, and they all dug in.
They were wrapping up, when Tim cleared his throat.
“So, everything still a go for the surgery?”
“Yeah,” Jason answered, a little grumpily. “Gotta be there at five AM, then about ten hours, give or take.”
“Okay. I took that whole week off, and I figured I’d take the kids to my place,” Tim said with a casual shrug. “I can take ‘em to school in the morning, and pick ‘em up, and that way you guys can get everything situated and settled. The week after that, I was talking to Stephanie, and she said she can come over while Dick and Roy are at work, and keep an eye on the kids, help you keep an eye on your bandages and everything.”
Roy barely bit back his wince; he liked Stephanie, and her and Jason got along like a house on fire. But in the months since they’d started hanging out, Roy had quickly figured out that Tim had a habit of just… setting things up, of ‘handling’ everything, and then telling people about it later.
“Tim -”
“I already told her I’d pay her rates; honestly, Jason needs someone here anyway, just in case something happens, and the kids already love her, so it’s just as easy,” Tim said hastily. “It’s no big deal, and it’s actually a lot easier on everybody, really. That way, she’s making some extra money, Jason’s got someone with basic medical knowledge, and she already knows the kids.”
For a moment, Roy debated on saying something. But he wasn’t entirely sure what to say, since Tim wasn’t wrong -in any of it -and it really would work out for the best. It was more so that Roy would’ve appreciated a heads up, so he could’ve gotten Jason used to the idea, before Tim just dumped it on them, even all wrapped up pretty with a bow as it was.
But that wasn’t really his place. Instead, he glanced over at Jason, and then Dick, to see how they were taking it.
Dick, for the most part, seemed okay; he was still sketchy about starting his new job a week before Jason had surgery, so it probably would be a relief to know that someone was going to be there. Jason didn’t talk about it much, but from what Roy was able to gather, from the little bit Jason said before the parole hearing, and Dick’s casual comments, Jason had been… difficult to deal with.
Which was fair; Roy wasn’t blaming Jason at all, but on the flip side, he couldn’t imagine how hard it had been on the three boys, dealing with that after their release from the hospital. Laurel had mentioned a few times during the trial prep that she’d been worried about the three of them living by themselves.
But it wouldn’t be like that this time around, he told himself firmly. None of them were kids, and Jason would have a solid support system in place, not just two other traumatized kids trying to make it work as best they could.
“I don’t need a babysitter, Timberly,” Jason’s gruff tone yanked Roy from his musings. “I’ll be -”
“Jason, you’re gonna… You’re gonna be on bed rest for six weeks,” Dick interrupted quietly. “They’re completely rebuilding your knee, and if you… You can’t try to tough it out, and do it on your own like you did before. If Stephanie’s willing to help out…” Dick looked over at Tim. “That’d be great, Tim, thanks.”
Roy managed to keep his sigh to himself, as Tim lit up like an overeager labrador who’d gotten a belly rub. “Yeah, no problem! It works out for her, too, she was a bit worried she’d never get to see the kids again, you know, with the distance and what not, and you guys not needing a babysitter as often, so it’s… It’s a good thing for everybody. Once you start at the new gymnastics studio -”
“It’s a tumbling center for kids, Tim, don’t over exaggerate it,” Dick interrupted self-deprecatingly, but Tim just continued on as if he hadn’t heard him.
“-then we figure out the schedule, and I can give her a more solid set of days to work around. But we’ve still got a month, so it’ll be fine, we’ve got time to get a more solid schedule,” Tim finished.
“It’s not… I’m gonna be working on some redesigns, while I’m laid up, so we’ll be able to pay you back, Timbert.” Jason’s voice was… less grumpy, and more agitated. “This ain’t gonna be somethin’ like… I’ll pay you back.”
“You don’t have to, Jay, I can -”
“Alright, and we’re gonna call this here,” Roy said firmly, hauling himself to his feet. “First night in the new place, we’re all just gonna have fun and relax, no arguing tonight. Jaybird, you done with your plate?”
“Uh… Yeah,” Jason said slowly, handing Roy his plate. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem. Also, Tim, since you are so dead set on being fun uncle, who can’t tell the children no… You can be the one to have the water gun fight,” Roy said, flashing Tim a smirk.
“Water guns!” Damian said excitedly, looking up from the little plastic picnic table. Lian looked up too, but presumably the chipmunk cheeks filled with hot dog kept her from cheering like Damian had. “Can we, Uncle Tim? We’ll let you have Dad on your team.”
From Roy’s left, he heard Dick choke a bit on his hamburger. “I… you guys want me to play too?”
Lian finally managed to swallow down the hot dog, because she looked at Dick, with her best impression of Jason’s ‘duh’ face. “Of course we do, Uncle Dick! Although I think I should get Uncle Dick, and Dami should get Uncle Tim,” she added thoughtfully. “That way it’s fair.”
Damian seemed to think that over, before nodding slowly. “Okay. That’s fair. C’mon, Uncle Tim, we have to figure out our plan.”
“Yeah. Go with Dami, Uncle Tim,” Lian said, grinning as she made her way over to where Dick was still awkwardly standing in front of his chair. “So we can plan too.”
Tim rolled his eyes a bit, but obeyed, chuckling as he followed Damian over behind the maple tree. As soon as he was out of range, Lian turned to Dick.
“Alright, so! Here’s my plan. We can’t spray Jay. So we hide behind -”
“No.” Roy said, immediately, without even thinking. “No hiding behind people who aren’t playing.
As expected, Lian let out a very put-upon sigh. “But we won’t be the ones spraying him, dad! C’mon, it’s -”
“No.”
“But -”
“Lian Joy Harper.”
“Fine,” she said grumpily. “C’mon, Uncle Dick, let’s go figure out a different plan. Uncle Bernie, you can be the striped shirt guy and make sure nobody cheats. Dad can keep Jay company.”
Roy barely refrained himself from rolling his eyes, as he plopped down next to Jason, stretching his feet out in front of him and folding his arms back behind his head. “Gee, s’real tough. Guess I’ll just have to sit here and relax with Jaybird. Tough breaks.”
Chapter Text
“Hey, pretty girl,” Tim said quietly, kneeling down to pet Sophie’s head as he stepped inside. “You all kinds of lonely while we were gone?”
Sophie meowed, loudly, batting her head against Tim’s hand insistently, and he chuckled.
“Alright, we’ll get you fed.” Tim stood up, slipping his shoes off, and giving Bernie a smile. “You want a drink or anything?”
Bernie looked distracted as he nodded, taking his jacket off. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll come out though. Keep you company.”
Tim just nodded, as he scooped Sophie up in his arms, heading out towards the kitchen. “Alright. What do you want? I can open a bottle, or I can make something. Yes, I know, Sophie,” he said, rolling his eyes as the cat meowed again. “We’ll feed you first, and then we’ll take care of ourselves. We know who’s important here, don’t worry.”
He finally had to set her down, so he could grab the can of food from the shelf, and her food bowl. When he turned back towards the island, he noticed Bernie looking at him, his face pensive.
“Uh… everything okay?”
The fact that Bernard took a deep breath, like he was gearing up for something, didn’t exactly inspire Tim with confidence. But he forced himself to continue pulling the lid off the cat food, and filling the dish as Bernie spoke.
“So… were you gonna tell me about the plan to take the kids for the week? Or was I supposed to find out when one of your brothers dropped them off?”
Tim looked up sharply from the food dish. “What the hell does that mean? I’m not supposed to help my brothers? Because if that’s what you’re saying, Bernie, we -”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, Tim,” Bernie said, and Tim could hear the exasperation in his voice. “I love Lian and Damian, and I enjoy having them over. I’m saying that I would’ve enjoyed a heads up. Maybe even a, ‘hey, do you mind if we take the kids for a week?’”
“If it’s a problem, then maybe we -”
“It’s not a problem, Tim,” Bernard interrupted him quietly, as he went over and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. “Taking the kids isn’t the problem. I like the kids. I like having the kids. I have no problems taking them for the week, even if it was just for fun, and not because of Jason’s surgery.”
“Then what is the problem?” Tim set the food bowl down, probably harder than necessary. “If you don’t mind -”
“Because I’d like it if you at least talked to me about it. Just like your brothers probably would. It’s not that anybody minds your plans, or even your planning things, it’s that it’d be polite if you at least asked for people’s input,” Bernard said pointedly.
Tim turned around, trying his best not to glare. Because if Bernard didn’t care if the kids came over, then what did it matter? “It needed to be taken care of, so I took care of it; they have enough on their plate already, so -”
“Right, but it’s their kids. So maybe you should double check before you just start making plans.”
“But they don’t care. It’s a good plan, and it’ll make things easier on everybody,” Tim pointed out, feeling the frustration growing as he threw the now-empty can in the garbage. “So what does it matter?”
“Because it’s polite to ask people before you just go making plans about their lives, Tim,” Bernard practically snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
And Tim couldn’t help but feel his annoyance climbing, because it was Bernard who didn’t understand and Bernard who had the problem.
“Dick and Jason already have a bunch of shit on their plate,” Tim forced himself to say as calmly as he could. “Dick’s starting a new job, Jason’s got the surgery, trying to get the new house set, dealing with Dick’s anxiety, and -”
“I know all of this, Tim. I’ve been here too,” Bernard interrupted. “Nobody is saying you can’t make plans. What I’m saying is it’d be nice for you to tell people the plan, before you put the plan into motion. If your car needed an oil change, and I set up an appointment for the mechanic, yes, that’s a nice thing. But if I don’t tell you about it until I just show up and take your car, it kind of negates the ‘niceness’ of it.
“And,” he continued, before Tim had a chance to say anything to refute him, “If you had told me? I could’ve taken some time off too. I enjoy hanging out with the kids, and we could’ve planned a trip or something. Taken them to Six Flags, or Digger World, or something.”
Tim froze for a moment, as he felt the weight of that settle. “Oh. Shit, Bernie, I’m sorry, I didn’t… You still have time, you can still request it off, right? That wasn’t… I was just making sure that everything was set, I wasn’t trying to exclude you,” he said a bit desperately, feeling the irritation drain out of him like a river bursting through a dam. “I just… Dick and Jason… They’ve got a lot going on, and they don’t need the added stress, you know? And I talk to Stephanie more than they do, since she stops at the office. But I wasn’t excluding you.”
Bernard sighed quietly, coming around the island, and wrapping his arms around Tim’s waist, pulling him in for a hug. “I know you weren’t trying to, babe, but when you make plans, and don’t discuss them with people? That’s what you’re doing: excluding them from the decisions. I just… You’re not… Okay, I’m gonna say this, and I know it sounds bad -”
“Then don’t say it,” Tim mumbled, laying his head on Bernie’s shoulder.
“But it needs to be said: you are not responsible for making sure your brothers’ lives run smooth. They’re both adults. Roy’s an adult. You can… That’s not saying you can’t help, but that you don’t have to run them. I know I’d be pissed if you tried doing that with me.”
Tim’s flinch was entirely involuntary, and he winced, even as he felt Bernard pull away, staring at him accusingly.
“Tim.”
“It’s not… I don’t do it with big stuff,” Tim said defensively. “Just… You know, making sure things are easier.”
“Tim.”
“It’s not a big deal, Bernie! It’s just… running interference, that’s all,” Tim said, waving his hand nervously as he poured himself a glass of wine. “It just… it makes things easier, and if you don’t have to deal with it -”
“It’s not dealing with things, Tim, it’s my life,” Bernard said, and for the first time in a long time, there was an actual hint of anger there. “You can’t just handle my life.”
“But I can, and it makes things easier,” Tim said again, wondering why the hell Bernie couldn’t understand. “It’s helping.”
“What are you helping with in my life, Tim?” Bernard demanded, and he pulled back, far enough that he was on the other side of the island again. He very clearly, very pointedly wasn’t looking at Tim.
“I… it’s just making sure that things are running smooth. Just like… making sure you got a better parking spot, or getting the groceries delivered, and -”
“The groceries?” Bernard’s head shot up, and he looked at Tim in confusion, as he sat back down.
“I… you said you hated dealing with people at the store after work. So I just… it was easier to set it up to have things delivered,” Tim said, tapping his fingers on the wine glass in his other hand. “You… You don’t like going to the vet, because of all the sick animals, so I schedule Sophie’s appointments while you’re at work.”
Bernard just stared, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what Tim was saying, like he was trying to put pieces of a puzzle together without the picture. But he didn’t look angry anymore either, so Tim continued on.
“You said you don’t like mechanics, because they always make you feel dumb for not knowing what they’re talking about, so I just… I make sure to take the car in for oil changes or maintenance when you’re at work, or visiting your parents. You mentioned your DoorDash account was being buggy, so I put my info in,” he said, keeping an eye on Bernard while he did. Because they were all little things, things Bernard shouldn’t have to worry about. Things that Tim could just… take care of, and do, and keep anybody else from worrying. “It’s… I’m not being controlling, or… It’s just that you got a lot going on already, and these are just… Things I can handle. Things I can help with.”
The room was silent, except for the sounds of Sophie licking at her food, the quiet slurping seeming louder than a concert. Tim stared at Bernard, waiting for him to say anything, but Bernard just stared back at him. The only good thing was that he didn’t look angry anymore, but the fact that Tim couldn’t tell what he was thinking now was worse. Just waiting for Bernard to say something, when Tim hadn’t done anything wrong, and -
“We’ll talk about it more tomorrow.”
Tim looked up, unaware of when he’d even looked away. “Huh?”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. You’re… I’m upset, you’re upset, and… Neither one of us is gonna understand when we’re worked up,” Bernard said, his voice quiet, but firm. “It’s… Yeah, I’m not happy. I’m not, and we’ll talk about it, but… Tomorrow. Tonight, we’re… We’re just gonna… I don’t know. I don’t know, but we’re gonna do something together, and not talk about this. Okay?”
Tim nodded slowly. “I… okay. We… we could um… watch a movie? If you want? Jason’s been… He’s been bugging me to watch Pacific Rim, if you wanted to watch it together?”
Bernie gave him a small smile. “Sure. I’m gonna go get changed real quick, if you wanna get it set up?”
“You want me to get some ice cream? We still have some of that All American Cherry that you like in the freezer, I can get you a bowl?” Tim asked cautiously. He wasn’t entirely sure why Bernard was just going to let it go, why he didn’t want to hash it out right now, or even why he’d been angry in the first damn place. But Tim wasn’t going to argue it. This had been the closest he and Bernie had ever come to an actual argument, and despite the fact that Bernard had backed down, Tim still felt… unsettled.
“No, thanks, I had way too much to eat at your brothers’ place,” Bernard said as he disappeared down the hallway.
Which was… fine. He was just going to get changed, and then they’d watch the movie Jason recommended, and everything would be fine. Bernard would think about why Tim was right, why he was just being helpful, and he’d realize it wasn’t even worth fighting about.
He drained the rest of his glass, before frowning at it. It wasn’t bad wine, but as much as Tim liked to pretend he belonged to the relatively well-off lifestyle he and Bernie now had, he’d never acquired the taste for it.
So he opened the cupboard over the stove, and grabbed out his tequila, pouring it into his wine glass, before he moved to the living room, and brought up Amazon Prime. It took him a few minutes to locate the movie, and he was starting to get… unbalanced. That was a good word for the emotions bouncing around in his head, while he wondered what the hell was taking Bernie so long.
Because he hadn’t done anything wrong. Most people would be glad to have someone taking care of the things they hated doing, to have someone make sure everything was running smoothly. Tim just… when he saw a problem, he fixed it. When something needed doing, he just did it.
It wasn’t being controlling. If Bernard said he wanted to do something, Tim happily let him do it. Hell, Tim enjoyed having Bernard plan and do things, but Tim wasn’t going to make him do things he didn’t want to do, or let him get stressed worrying about things. Especially when Tim didn’t mind taking care of things.
“You find the movie?”
Tim forced himself to smile, looking up as Bernie came into the living room, wearing a pair of gym pants and a t-shirt. “Yeah. Wasn’t even that expensive. And it’s got that one guy from King Arthur in it.”
“Really? Huh. Alright, well let me grab my glass, and we can get started if you want.” Bernard started to walk away, before he stopped. “Did you wanna go change? Might as well get comfy, right?”
“Uh… Yeah, sure,” Tim said slowly, pulling himself up off the couch, and setting his glass down on the table. “Just gimme a minute, I can go change into a pair of sweats or something.”
He wandered down the hallway to the bedroom, smiling a bit as he saw Sophie padding along behind him. Luckily, she wasn’t feeling particularly adventurous, and wasn’t trying to wind her way around his feet while he walked.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he said softly, as he walked to the dresser and pulled out a pair of sweats and one of his hoodies. He absently pet her head as she jumped up on the bed, purring contentedly underneath his palm. “You appreciate when I take care of things for you, huh?” he asked quietly, his voice little more than a whisper. “Yeah, you do. You’re my girl, huh?”
She batted against his hand, standing on her back legs to reach as he tried to pull his hand back so he could get undressed, her purring turning into disgruntled meowing. And that was…
Tim hated to say that’s what he wanted from Bernie; it sounded terrible, I do things to make your life easier, you let me know how much you love me, but… it wasn’t wrong either. Tim didn’t remember much of his parents -he’d been nine when they’d died -but he could remember doing everything he could to be everything they wanted, and that they’d always just expected more.
Better grades, better batting average in little league, better art projects, and just… he’d never been enough for them. Then he’d had Dick and Jason, and while Jack had been awful… For the first time, Tim had had somebody in his life who actually liked having him around, and didn’t expect things from him. Two somebodies, really.
They’d taken care of him, taken his punishments for him, and… Tim knew how to be good, how to be useful. Even in the basement, he’d done what he could for his brothers; helping Jason with his homework, reading his textbooks with him, and letting Dick fuss and worry over him like a mother hen, even when he was fine.
It wasn’t… he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He knew he had a lot of… issues, a lot of hang-ups -like the table thing, and his stupid candles -but he made up for it by being useful.
Unlike Jason the Mechanic, and Dick the Acrobat… Tim didn’t - still doesn’t- have things he was good at. He wasn’t naturally talented or gifted at anything, he didn’t have any skills, not marketable ones. He could memorize facts and spout them off on a test, but that’s all he’d ever been good at, and that wasn’t useful, not really.
He slowly let himself sit down on the bed, petting Sophie as she climbed into his lap. Because it was just…
He knew what Dick and Jason had always done. Jason took the brunt of Jack’s anger, Dick patched Jason up after, and Tim sat on the sidelines and watched. Once in a while, Jack had gone after him, but even that had rarely had anything to do with Tim, and everything to do with Jack wanting to rile Dick and Jason up, to punish them. The last time, when Jack had nearly killed him…
Tim had been trying to help Jason. And he’d failed, because the one time he decided to take a stand, he’d failed at that too.
But he could make things easier. He could be helpful. He could make sure the small little things were taken care of -like doing the laundry for Dick while he was sleeping, or making sure Jason took his pills -and it…
He could be useful. Bernie just didn’t understand, didn’t get it. Tim wasn’t excluding him, Tim was just making things easier. Being helpful, instead of…
Instead of what? What, exactly, did Bernard expect him to do? Tim was doing the things Bernie hated doing, and -
“Tim?”
Tim jerked a bit, nearly knocking Sophie off his lap. “Sorry,” he said instinctively, when he saw Bernard standing in the door. “I… Sophie,” he added as an excuse, looking down at the cat.
Bernard just sighed, moving slowly over towards Tim, and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Tim, it’s… It’s fine. I’m not…” He took a deep breath, before giving Tim what looked like the most forced smile ever. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Tim… you’re in here staring at the walls,” Bernie said softly. “And it’s… it’s okay to be upset, you know? I don’t want…” He paused, running a hand down his face. “I’m trying to understand, Tim, I’m trying to… I want to understand where your head is on this, but I need you to tell me what’s going on in that big brain of yours, babe.”
“I’m fine.” And he would be. Everything would blow over, and Bernie would go back to letting Tim do the things that made life easier, that made things simpler, and everything would be fine.
“You’re not fine, Tim,” Bernie said quietly, sighing. “And you don’t have to be. You… Tim, you can be upset. You can be ‘not fine’. I’m upset; I’m not fine right now. But we can… if you just talk to me, we can figure out how to get through this, something that makes us both happy, instead of you just… trying to do things you think make me happy.”
Tim could feel his mouth opening. Felt it close again. There was something lodged in his throat, a knot he couldn’t get out, that he couldn’t force words around. He took a deep breath, and tried again.
And then he felt the dam break.
“I’m helping. I’m helping, Bernie, that’s all, I just wanna help, I can make things easier. I just want to help, I’m not excluding you, or controlling you, I’m just helping. I’m being useful, I’m doing the things you don’t want to do, and I don’t understand why you’re mad, I’m helping, you’re not supposed to be mad, you’re supposed to… Supposed to…” To his horror, he could feel tears streaming down his face, and he felt awful, like the dam holding back the words had also been holding back all the nasty, rotten things he didn’t want to feel.
Through his tears, he could make out Bernie’s blurry shape settling in front of him, and he felt Bernie’s hands on his knees.
“Supposed to what, Tim?” Bernard’s voice was soft, gentle.
“Supposed to… to love me,” Tim whispered. “You’re… you’re supposed to… I’m being useful. I’m helping. You’re… you’re not supposed to… I’m making things easier.”
He felt Bernie’s hands tighten a bit on his knees. “Tim… Tim, baby, I… I do love you,” Bernie said, and Tim could hear his voice crack. “I do. And not because… because you’re useful, I love you because you’re you. Because you… You’re smart, Tim, and you’re funny, and you make me laugh. I don’t love you because you do things for me, Tim. That’s not love. Your brothers don’t love you because you’re useful, they love you because you’re you. Not because of what you do for them.”
“That’s not… You don’t understand,” Tim said desperately, grinding his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the stupid tears. “It’s not… I don’t have anything else to offer. I don’t… This is how I help.”
“Tim… Tim, I need you to listen to me, okay?” Bernie said, and Tim could hear the tears in Bernie’s voice too. So he forced himself to nod, lowering his hands from his eyes. “You don’t have to offer anything. That’s not how this works, okay? We’re not… Do you love me because I go to work?”
“No, but that’s different.” Tim knew he failed to keep the stupid whiny tone from his voice. “You… you put up with me, and the weird shit I do -and don’t tell me it’s not weird, because I know it is -and you let me drag you to stuff with my brothers, and -”
“Woah. Woah, Tim, I… Stop. Just… No,” Bernard said firmly, still staring up at him. “I don’t ‘put up with you’, I love being with you. And I have my own weird stuff I do, and things that I don’t get or understand. And you don’t drag me anywhere; I like spending time with your brothers and the niblings. I do those things because I like spending time with you, I like being with you. Not because you… you take out the garbage, or have the groceries delivered, or because you went to bat for me with the music department.
“I love you because you make me laugh with your impressions of people at work. Because you always listen to everybody’s opinion, even when it’s something you disagree with. Because you treat Sophie like she’s a person, not a dumb animal. Because you like watching cooking shows, and critiquing people’s methods, but you can’t cook to save your life. Because you’ll watch really bad anime with me, and laugh instead of telling me I could be watching something more worthwhile. Because when I go on about people who use Macbooks, you nod and listen like you understand, even though I know you don’t, and I know you don’t actually care either.”
Bernard took a deep breath, and leaned in a little closer. “I love you because you’re you, not because of what you do for me, Tim. Anybody can take out the garbage, but not everybody can make me laugh like you do. Anybody can feed a cat, but not everybody is going to treat a cat like they matter.
“And I know that me saying all this isn’t going to magically make you think differently, or fix everything you’ve gone through to make you feel like you have to be useful to be loved, but… I need you to know that even if you were paralyzed from the neck down tomorrow? I’d still love you. I’d still stay with you, because I love you, Tim, the person. And maybe it doesn’t make sense to you,” he added, when Tim tried to tell him how dumb that was. “But it doesn’t have to make sense. I just need you to believe it. You can think I’m crazy for doing it, you can think I’m nuts, but I still need you to believe it. Okay?”
It was nuts, and Bernie was crazy, because he didn’t understand all the things Tim took care of, all the ways he made things easier, but… On the other hand, he’d never lied to Tim either, not about the big things.
“I…” Tim took a deep breath. “If you… Yeah. Okay.”
“Good. Good, that’s… Thank you, Tim. I know… I know you’re not in a good headspace right now, so let’s… Let’s go watch some really bad TV, huh? That sound good?” Bernard said, looking relieved as he stood up, holding his hand out to Tim.
And Tim… Christ, but he wanted to believe Bernie was telling the truth. But he also was just… done. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
So he forced himself to smile. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
Chapter 4
Notes:
Woot for early posting lol. Hope y'all enjoy.
Chapter Text
Dick was unpacking the last few boxes in the living room when the doorbell rang.
Honestly, the noise made him jump a bit; he’d never had a doorbell before, and he was one more unexpected guest away from asking Roy to disconnect it, so people would just knock. Unfortunately, Jay was still cleaning up after breakfast, and Roy was in the shower while the kids ate, so there wasn’t anybody else to open the door.
So he pulled himself up off the floor, and only some sort of instinct that he didn’t even register had him reaching his hand out, grabbing the collar of Lian’s sweatshirt as she darted by him towards the door.
“No,” he said firmly, when Lian looked up at him with big brown eyes. “Your dad and Jay have talked to you about this already.”
“But it could be the cookie lady!” Lian said, squirming a bit, even after Dick let go of her collar.
“It could also be a stranger,” Dick pointed out. “You’re not supposed to open the door. Only adults.”
“But it could be an emergency!”
“It’s not, Lee,” Dick said patiently, as he walked over to the door. “If it was, they’d bang on the door, not ring the doorbell, right? Why don’t you go help Jason with the dishes, huh? You know he’s gotta take it easy with his leg, right?”
All the argument on his niece’s face dried right up. “Oh, yeah!” She turned, and ran back towards the kitchen, yelling, “Dami! We gotta help Jay with dishes!”
And Dick couldn’t help but smile a bit, even as he unlocked the door; Lee was a good kid, and -
He blinked. Blinked again. “Ms. Lance?”
“Dick?” Laurel looked as stunned as Dick did, standing on the stoop next to… oh.
“Uh… Mr. Queen. Hi. Um. We uh…” He stood there, still holding the door open, gaping like an idiot. Was he… Dick was fairly confident that Roy and his adopted dad didn’t get along, that they hadn’t spoken in years; was he supposed to invite them in?
He felt his panic kick up another notch when he heard Jason coming up behind him.
“Dick, who’s -” Jason stopped just behind Dick. “Ms. Lance? What the hell’re you doin’ here?”
“Jason? Dick, is…” Ms. Lance floundered, and Mr. Queen looked absolutely lost. “We… I think we got the wrong house number, but -”
“Everything okay, Di -” Roy came around the corner from his and Jay’s bedroom, and froze, towel still half over his head as he stared. “Ollie?”
Mr. Queen was the only person who looked relieved. “Roy. Hi.”
“What’re you doin’ here, Ollie?” Roy demanded, and for the first time that Dick could recall, Roy actually looked angry. “Shit, how the hell did you even know where to find me?”
Mr. Queen started to answer, before Laurel held her hand up. “Wait, hold on, we can get to that in a minute, because I’m still confused about why Dick and Jason are at your house.”
“Because it’s our house,” Roy said hotly. “Jason’s my partner, and Dick’s living with us.”
“Roy… why the hell is Ms. Lance here, and how the hell do you know her?” Jason interjected, before anyone else could speak.
“You didn’t tell them?” Laurel looked absolutely horrified as she stared at Roy.
“Dad?” Lian’s head poked around the corner from the kitchen into the living room, Damian on the opposite side of the doorway. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Go to your room, Lee,” Roy all but snapped, before shouldering his way around Dick to the door. “Whatever you want, Ollie, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
“Well, I am,” Jay said sharply. “What the hell is goin’ on?”
Mr. Queen took a step forward. “I… I think there’s been a misunderstanding; I didn’t mean to cause problems, I just… I wanted to talk to Roy, and apologize.”
“And you brought a lawyer along for that?” Jason demanded. “No offense, Ms. Lance.”
“You’re fine, Jason,” Laurel said, almost as if on instinct more than anything else, before she took a deep breath. “I… Okay. Okay, let’s… I’m going to apologize; I… reacted poorly, and I think we all just need to take a few deep breaths, and try this again. I think everybody was lacking some information, and -”
“This isn’t a courtroom, Laurel,” Roy snapped. “It’s my goddamn house. And you’re just gonna… Jesus, Ollie, how the hell did you even find me, huh? Much less what the fuck you were thinkin’, just showing up.”
“Um…” Dick cleared his throat a bit. “It… it doesn’t hurt to just let ‘em talk, right? And… I mean, despite everything else, it’s nice to see Ms. Lance again,” he offered quietly.
Roy turned around, and stared at him for a second, before turning back to Mr. Queen. “Fine. Whatever. You’ve got twenty minutes, you better make it real fuckin’ good.”
“Thank you, Roy,” Laurel said, sounding relieved. “And… it is really good to see you. All of you,” she added, giving Jason and Dick a smile. “Even if it was a bit of a surprise.”
“Yeah, no fuckin’ kiddin’,” Jason muttered, glaring at Roy, before taking a step back, so Dick could move out of the little entry way. “C’mon in, I guess. Take off your shoes. I’m gonna go get the kids watchin’ TV in the family room.”
“I’d love to meet them bo -” Mr. Queen started to speak, but Roy, who’d already started towards the kitchen, whipped around angrily.
“No. Not only no, but fuck you no,” he seethed. “I’m lettin’ you in, because Laurel’s here, and Dick asked. That’s as much grace as you’re fuckin’ gettin’ here.” With that, he stomped off into the kitchen, Jason following close behind, and leaving Dick to deal with… well, everything.
“I… Um, c’mon in,” he said again uselessly, because they were already inside, and had their shoes off standing there in the entry room. “Uh, kitchen’s this way, we can… There’s probably still some coffee left from breakfast if you want?”
“That’d be lovely, Dick, thank you,” Laurel said warmly. “And it is good to see you. How’s Damian doing?”
“Uh… he’s good. Real good. He’s starting school in a few weeks,” Dick mumbled, leading the way to the kitchen. “And he’s goin’ to the tumbling class I’m starting at next week too.”
“That’s great, Dick! I’m glad you’re doing well. Oh, I… Well, it’s probably a bit late now, but, Dick, this is Oliver. Oliver, this is Dick Grayson,” Laurel said as they came to a stop in the kitchen, and Dick didn’t miss the look she gave Mr. Queen.
But Mr. Queen just nodded, sticking his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Dick, although I’d rather it’d been under other circumstances.”
Dick tentatively shook his hand. “You too, Mr. Queen. I… uh… Here, lemme get you guys some coffee. You still drink it black?” he asked Laurel, as he quickly filled up two cups. “How ‘bout you, Mr. Queen?”
“Black’s fine for me, Dick, thank you,” Mr. Queen said politely.
The kitchen was quiet for a few minutes, an awkward, uncomfortable kind of quiet. Dick could faintly hear the TV in the family room, and Jay’s deep rumble against Roy’s sharp voice, before the two came back into the kitchen. Immediately, Mr. Queen stood up a bit straighter.
“Roy.”
“Your twenty minutes starts right fuckin’ now, Ollie,” Roy snapped, folding his arms across his chest on the other side of the kitchen. “Better be damn good.”
“I… I wanted to apologize,” Mr. Queen said, his voice faltering a bit. “I… was having problems with Laurel at the time, and work, and… I reacted… poorly to what you said, and -”
“You mean when you threw me out for… Oh, let me think, how did you put it? ‘Fucking my teacher ‘cause I couldn’t keep it in my pants’?” Roy said viciously. “When I came to you and told you I was in over my head and didn’t know how to get out?”
Oh. Oh fuck. Dick felt his head snap around to look at Roy, who was glaring at Mr. Queen.
“Roy… You didn’t… You didn’t explain anything to me,” Mr. Queen said, a desperate note to his voice. “I didn’t… I didn’t know, and -”
“Yeah, that’s right you didn’t fuckin’ know,” Roy interrupted him. “You just blamed me for it, didn’t ask anything, didn’t want to know anything. It was easier for you to just blame me, and ask if I’d been drinking, instead of asking why I was drinking so much. I was seven-fucking-teen, Ollie, and you knew I had a drinking problem, and instead of gettin’ me help, you just threw me out, and told me I wasn’t your son anymore.”
Where Dick’s head had snapped towards Roy, Jason’s snapped towards Mr. Queen. “You what?”
Mr. Queen at least had the decency to wince, although he kept his eyes fixed on Roy. “I… I know it’s not enough, Roy, but I am sorry. It… I was terrible, and I didn’t give you the support you needed. But… I’m trying to be better; I’m… I’m in therapy, and I’ve been trying. Enough that Laurel and I are back together, she’s giving me another chance. And I was horrible to her too, and she forgave me,” he said quietly. “I… I’ve got a long way to go, and I know that I can’t… I can’t change what I said, or what I did, and I don’t… you have every reason to not forgive me, and I don’t expect you to, but… I want to be a part of your life. I want to try and make up for the terrible things I did. I… I want us to be a family again.”
“A family? We were barely a family, Ollie.” Roy barked out a harsh laugh. “It was you and the kid you found on the street, who never quite measured up to what you wanted, who was always just too difficult. And as soon as shit got hard and you couldn’t just throw money at it, you threw me out like the puppy who shit on the goddamn carpet.”
“That isn’t… That’s not true, Roy,” Mr. Queen said desperately. “I… I love you, you’re my son. I… I didn’t show it well, and I know that, but I didn’t know how to handle things; I wasn’t… I’m not making excuses, but I didn’t know what I was doing, and I’d take it back if I could.”
“I fuckin’ wouldn’t; you kickin’ me out is the reason my life is better,” Roy said dismissively. “I got a kid, I got a partner who loves me, I got a life a hundred times better’n I would’ve had living in your castle, with both of us drinkin’ our problems away. So you can take your apologies, and your excuses, and your regrets, and just go back to whatever the fuck you’ve been doin’ for the last eleven years.”
Laurel took a step forward. “Roy… I understand you’re upset, and truthfully, you have every right to be. I left Ollie shortly after I found out what had happened, and -”
“Yeah, you were constantly leaving Ollie, but you never managed to stay away,” Roy said, although he sounded more hurt than angry when he addressed Laurel. “How many times did you leave while I was livin’ there? How many times before I got there? So forgive me if I don’t take your word for how much he’s changed. Not to mention… He wouldn’t have even known how to find me here, which means you heard about it, and told him. So thank you for that. This has all been absolutely fucked, please never stop by again, and you can leave now.”
“Roy -”
“Your twenty minutes is up,” Jason interrupted, his own voice little more than a sharp growl. “I want you out of my house. Was nice seein’ you, Ms. Lance, best of luck, you wanna stop by again, do it by yourself.”
Dick pushed himself off the counter he was leaning on. “I’ll uh… I’ll show ‘em out,” he said quickly.
“I… Roy, can I… Can I at least leave you my number?” Mr. Queen asked quietly. “Just… No expectations, but… That way if you ever want to talk -”
“I don’t want to talk. I won’t want to talk. So you can take your number and shove it. Especially since you know where I live now, so I’m sure I’ll find expensive shit showing up at my door, because that’s the only way you know how to show anyone you care,” Roy spat angrily. “So again: get the fuck out of our house.”
Mr. Queen luckily didn’t argue, or push, and Dick was able to sort of herd him and Laurel towards the door. Dick was fairly positive he didn’t manage to suck in a breath until they were all back outside on the driveway.
“Ollie, could you give Dick and I a minute?” Laurel asked quietly, after a few awkward moments of silence. “I’d like to catch up.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I… It was nice to meet you, Dick.”
“You too,” Dick said, more out of habit than anything else, since nothing about this experience -or the way the man had treated his son -had been nice. But fortunately, Mr. Queen didn’t say anything else, just giving Dick a nod, and going back to the black car parked next to the curb.
“I… I’m sorry, Dick,” Laurel said, as soon as Mr. Queen was back in the car. “I was caught a bit off guard. I could’ve definitely handled that better,” she added ruefully. “But it is nice to see you, and that you boys are spending time together again.”
Dick nodded, leaning against the bed of Roy’s truck. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s… Everything’s goin’ a lot better. Tim was over last night for dinner; him and his boyfriend. You know he’s a professor now?”
“I heard; criminal psychology at Gotham U,” Laurel confirmed, her voice warm. “You must’ve been proud; I know he put in a lot of work, but you were always there supporting him too. And how’s Jason doing?”
“He’s good. Real good, actually,” Dick admitted. “Him and Roy… They’ve been together for two years now, and Jason’s probably better’n he’s ever been. He’s happy, and… he’s even going in for an experimental surgery on his leg in a few weeks. If it works, he should regain almost full use of his leg.”
“That’s great! What’s he doing for a living?”
“Uh… well, he’s a mechanic, but he’s been doing restorations too. Like, old car restorations and stuff like that. I um…” He took a deep breath. “You want my number? Not for… Not for Mr. Queen and Roy, but… You helped me out a lot, with… when we first got out, and then later with… With Damian, and all the paperwork with that, and I uh… I never really said ‘thank you’.”
Laurel smiled, reaching out slowly to set her hand on his shoulder, and he forced himself not to move away from it. “You never had to say it, Dick,” she said gently. “But I’d love your number. Maybe we can do lunch sometime. Nothing with Ollie and Roy, just… I’d love to hear how things have been going for you boys. And Damian, too.”
Dick just nodded, before rattling off his phone number. “Yeah. Maybe… Maybe we can do lunch. There’s… I got a lot goin’ on, with the kids starting school, and Jay’s surgery, but… but maybe after?”
“That sounds great, Dick; tell you what, I’ll shoot you a message in a few weeks, and you can pick a time and place that works for you,” Laurel offered. “But we better get going; I’m sorry if we upset things,” she added. “We didn’t know… We thought we could just come and talk with Roy, and maybe work some things out.”
“That’s not the kind of thing you work out.” Dick said it before he even really had time to think about it, and he fought back the urge to cringe. It wasn’t Laurel’s fault her boyfriend was a terrible human being, and she didn’t deserve to catch shit for it.
But Laurel just smiled. “Take care of yourself, Dick.”
With that, she walked down the driveway, and got into the passenger seat of the black car. Dick watched as it slowly pulled away from the curb, and kept watching as it drove to the end of the road, before finally losing sight of it when it turned off their street.
Only then did he let himself heave a sigh of… relief? Maybe. It didn’t really feel like relief, but something in his chest loosened once the car was out of view, and he scrubbed a hand down his face.
He had to go talk to the kids. While nobody had yelled, Roy had been sharp with Lian, at least, and even with the TV on, they’d undoubtedly heard at least some of what had been said, or at least heard raised voices. And since Roy and Jason had a lot to talk about -and since both of them were probably still upset -it’d be best if Dick talked to them.
He turned around to go back inside… just as Roy came out, pulling the door closed sharply behind him, and digging a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
When Roy saw Dick, however, he froze, looking guilty for a second, before he sat down on the edge of the stoop.
“Sorry you had to deal with that, man,” Roy said quietly, when Dick walked up next to him. He hadn’t actually lit the cigarette yet, and was just fiddling with it in-between his fingers. “That was… I probably should’ve expected it, but it caught me off-guard. Haven’t seen him since he threw me out.”
Dick just stared at the cigarette. “Jason said you quit. Back when you stopped drinking.”
Roy just chuckled softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. Always kept a pack around though. Dunno why; alcohol? Nah, couldn’t ever control myself with that, but having a pack around, and just looking at it, and… It made me feel like I had some self-control left still, you know? Like, yeah, I could smoke it, but I’m strong enough not to.”
“But here you are.”
“Here I am. Guess I don’t have as much self-control as I thought, huh?” There was a bitterness in his voice that Dick recognized all too easily: self-loathing. But before he could comment, Roy looked up from the cigarette. “Sorry you had to hear all that; I know…” He looked over his shoulder at the closed door, then back at Dick, voice lowered. “I know that probably brought some shit up for you. I didn’t think he’d ever show up on my front fuckin’ porch, so I didn’t think it’d be a thing.”
Dick forced himself to shrug, as he leaned against the wall of the attached garage. “M’fine. You’re the one out here with a cigarette.”
“It’s a cigarette, not a beer.”
“It’s… I like you, Roy,” Dick said, his voice quiet, even as he felt his fingernails digging into his arms folded across his chest. “But Jason’s my brother. And if you fall off the wagon, it’ll hurt him. A lot. I know what he told you, and Jason… he doesn’t need that. Not now. Things are… They’re going good. They’re going good right now, and it’d… it’d suck if you let Oliver Queen fuck it up.”
Roy grimaced, before staring down at the cigarette for a few seconds. Finally, with a sigh, he cracked the filter off the cigarette, and threw it into the hedge bush next to the stoop as he stood up.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” he said, his voice low, but determined. “Not gonna let Ollie determine what I do and all that shit, yeah?”
“Yeah. And… For… for what it’s worth, I… I’m sorry. That that happened. To you,” Dick said, his tongue feeling like lead in his mouth. “With… with your teacher.”
“Is what it is.” Roy’s response was immediate, something flashing across his face and disappearing again. “M’okay now, and that’s what matters, right?” He gave Dick a tired smile. “C’mon, we should… Somebody’s gotta talk to the kids, and… Shit, I should probably actually talk to Jason.”
Dick jerked his head up in surprise. “You… I thought when I was out here, you two would…” He trailed off as Roy shook his head.
“I tried. He said he needed a minute and went out back.” At Dick’s wince, Roy sighed again. “Yeah. Jaybird’s never been one to walk away from a fight, so… figure this is… Probably real bad, huh?”
“I mean… he could just… He probably doesn’t want to yell. And Jason’s never… he’s never been good at putting things into words,” Dick said, although even he couldn’t keep the doubt from his voice. Because Roy was right, Jason was the type of person who never let an argument go, who always had something to say. Not that he liked to fight, but more so that he was stubborn enough to keep an argument going if he thought he was in the right.
And Roy clearly knew it just as well as Dick did, because he sighed, one more time, before turning and opening the door. “Guess I might as well get it over with, huh? You uh… you got the kids?”
Dick nodded slowly as they went back inside, Roy locking the door behind them. “Just… should I take ‘em out back to play?” He couldn’t quite keep the nervousness from his voice.
Roy blinked at him. “Why?”
“I mean… if you two are gonna fight -”
“We’re not actually gonna fight, Dick,” Roy said firmly. “We’re gonna… I’m gonna go apologize for keeping shit secret, and he’s gonna say some things, but we’re not gonna be yellin’ or anything. At most, Jay might get a little… snippy, but he’s earned that. And he won’t yell or scream; at most, he’ll just… go for a drive or somethin’. That’s all. Then… hell, maybe we’ll uh… You know what, it’s been a fuckin’ day already; maybe we can go get ice cream for lunch afterwards,” he said, scrubbing a hand down his face. But it’ll be fine. It’s… Yeah. Yeah, it’s gonna be fine. I’ll talk to Jay, and you handle the kids.”
Chapter Text
Jason stared at the picture in his wallet, of him, Roy, and Lian eating ice cream at the Wayne Memorial Arena. The Gotham Knights had just won their first game all season, and not a one of them had understood a damn thing about the game, or what had happened, but it’d been one of the first things they’d done as a family. Roy had gotten the tickets from one of his clients, and they’d made a whole damn day of it.
It’d been the first time Jason had realized that they were a family. That he loved Roy and Lian as much as he loved his brothers, that he’d die for them just like he’d die for Dick and Tim.
But now, he looked at the picture, and he was pissed . Roy had lied to him, not once, but twice . Jason had trusted him, Jason fucking loved him or whatever stupid sappy bullshit people wanted to call it, and Roy had lied to him twice .
Not only had he always known who Jason was, but he’d probably had more details than most people, living in the same house as the damn prosecutor . He’d known exactly who Jason was when he’d first walked in, and not just because of the damn TV.
And he’d never told Jason about what had happened to him. While Roy and everybody else in the damn world knew exactly what Jason went through, knew exactly what kind of hell he’d lived through… Roy hadn’t trusted Jason enough to tell him what he’d dealt with as a teenager.
Which… Jason knew wasn’t entirely fair; it wasn’t like Jason had told Roy what happened. But the point remained that Roy knew . Roy knew about all the embarrassing, humiliating, fucked up shit that Jack had done to him. Jason hadn’t told him, but Roy had known , Roy had probably seen pictures and shit if Ms. Lance ever took work home with her.
And Roy had never said anything. About him knowing everything, and about what had happened to him.
He looked up as the sliding glass door opened, glaring as Roy came out.
“So um… Gonna start this by saying I’m sorry,” Roy said quietly, as he sat down at the little glass patio table. The one him and Roy had gotten to see if maybe Jason and Dick could slowly work their way into being comfortable around an actual table again. Fuck .
“That’s a good start,” Jason grumbled. “‘Fore we go any further, ‘cause I’m pissed, and I got shit to say, but… I’m sorry. ‘Bout what happened, and ‘bout your dad.” He leaned back in the chair, rubbing at his thigh, trying to loosen up the muscle. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m pissed as hell at you, but I am sorry ‘bout what happened.”
Roy nodded slowly. “I… thank you. And again: I’m sorry. And I know it sounds like I’m making excuses, but… I…” He pulled his hat off his head, and scrubbed a hand through his hair before putting the hat back on. “When you were comin’ in for your tattoo… You didn’t mention it, and you… When I asked your name, you seemed… relieved. And I didn’t think it would matter , because… well, fuck it, I was just gonna do your tattoo, right? So I thought… I thought I could just… If it made things easier , right? ‘Cause you already were nervous and shit, and I just… I thought I was makin’ shit easier.”
He took a deep breath, before continuing. “Then, by the time I realized that… that I liked you, and you liked me back, it was too late, right? How the hell do I tell you at that point? I’d already not told you, and… I never really expected to see Ollie or Laurel again,” he admitted. “When Ollie kicked me out… I was never gonna see him again, you know? So what would it matter ? At that point, there was no reason to tell you, because it was only gonna hurt you, and wouldn’t help anything.”
“It mattered because you lied to me, Roy,” Jason said, just as quiet. “You knew who I was, and rather than tellin’ me yourself, I had to find out when the lady who prosecuted my case showed up on our door with your dad . And there I am lookin’ like an idiot, not to mention like… Jesus, Roy, the last time I saw her was when she drove me to the apartment from the hospital . Like… Basically, your step-mom was there for all of it. She knew the stuff that wasn’t even brought up in court .”
He swallowed, feeling like something was stuck in his throat; until he’d said it, he hadn’t really even considered that. Judge Garcia had banned a lot of evidence, or cleared the courtroom of cameras for some of it, and if Ms. Lance had talked about it at home, or took her stuff home with her…
It was different now. Knowing that Roy might’ve seen the photos, might’ve seen the statements. It wasn’t brought up in court, but growing up in the same house as Ms. Lance, Roy might know that Jack only let them shower by hosing down in the yard, or that they’d had to share a fucking bucket at night, when Jack locked them in. And maybe it shouldn’t make a difference, maybe it shouldn’t matter , but it did .
“I know. I know, Jay, I… I don’t know what else to say,” Roy admitted softly, staring out into the yard. “I should’ve told you. About Laurel and Ollie, and… and what happened. And I’m sorry that I didn’t. Like I said, I know it doesn’t excuse it, but I really thought it wouldn’t ever matter.”
“But you knew it did , or you would’ve fuckin’ told me,” Jason retorted. “If it didn’t matter. I mean… Be honest with me, Roy: how much do you actually know of what happened?”
Roy wouldn’t look at him. “More than most people. More than what was at the trial, anyway,” he said slowly. “Laurel worked on your case all the time; even before the trial started, she was always working on it. During dinner, even our movie nights. Ollie and me would be watchin’ a movie, and she’d be working, all her papers spread out on the floor as she rearranged shit. I… full honesty, I… I saw a lot of photos that didn’t make it into the papers, or into the trial. She’d practice her statements, or cross-examinations with me, see what I thought. I… Hell, Jason, for a while, when the trial first started? I… I hated you and your brothers.
“I was drownin’ in my own shit; Ollie and me were fighting all the time, and… she was just so hellbent, so focused on you guys, that… I used to think if… if she paid just a bit more attention to what was goin’ on in her own house , she’d know I was drowning. That she could’ve pulled me out if she’d been less focused on your case,” Roy said, his voice softer than Jason had ever heard it. “And I know that was selfish, and stupid or whatever, but… That wasn’t why I didn’t say anything to you,” he added. “That wasn’t… I’d grown up, realized that I needed to deal with my own shit, that I couldn’t blame other people, long before you walked in to get a tattoo.”
“S’not selfish,” Jason mumbled, feeling guilty. “It’s… when you’re drownin’ and nobody sees, it’s hard to see ‘em pay attention to other people. You still shouldda told me, and I’m pissed . That’s… This isn’t a small thing, like you hidin’ how much that set of pans cost. This is… This is big , Roy. Like… ‘I don’t know how I forget this’ big,” he admitted.
“You don’t,” Roy said, his voice firm. “You don’t forget. I lied to you, and… and you’re right, it was a big thing, and I shouldn’t have kept it from you. You don’t forget stuff like that, Jaybird. And I don’t expect you to forgive me either. I mean…” He chuckled quietly. “Obviously I’d like it if you did . But I don’t expect you to just forget it.”
Jason looked over at him, glaring a bit. “You know, you make it hard to be pissed when you say shit like that. Bein’ all reasonable.”
“Not bein’ reasonable, Jaybird. M’tellin’ you you don’t have to forget or forgive me for this one.”
Jason thought about that for a moment. Not that he wouldn’t forgive Roy -he couldn’t picture his life without Roy -but…
He hadn’t been entirely honest with Roy either. He hadn’t told him about Dick or Tim, hadn’t told him about Jack. Just because Roy knew didn’t mean Jason had told him. Didn’t mean that Jason would’ve told him if he hadn’t known.
And Roy wasn’t wrong either; the relief Jason had felt when Roy had asked him his name in the tattoo parlor, had treated him like just a normal guy had been immense. It’d been the first time in years that people hadn’t stared at him and his face, hadn’t said, ‘hey, aren’t you the kid from the basement?’.
Plus… Roy had told someone about what had happened to him; he’d told his adopted dad, and his dad had blamed him for it. Jason remembered, when Jack’s defense attorney had tried saying that Jason had driven Jack to do what he did, that Jason’s temper, and attitude had been impossible to deal with. He remembered the shame he’d felt, as Mr. Garza had brought up Jason’s history of fighting, of stealing, and his bad grades. Even though Jason had known it wasn’t true -because Jack treated Dick and Tim like shit too, even if he didn’t treat them as bad as Jason -it had still made him want to curl up and die.
And Dick and Tim had always supported him. Even when everyone else thought he was the stupid brother, thought he was the angry one… Dick and Tim had been there for him.
Roy hadn’t had anybody . The one person he should’ve been able to count on -his dad -had been the one telling him it was his fault. That he’d brought it on himself or he’d deserved it, or whatever.
Roy had gone through that all alone . For years, it’d been just him, then him and Lian.
Just like Dick had just had Damian, with Dick blaming himself for everything .
Jesus. Roy had lived alone for two years before Lian had been born, and then for six years, it’d been just him and Lian, while he struggled to hold everything together, struggled with his own trauma, and tried to be the best parent he could.
No wonder him and Dick got along so well. They weren’t all that different.
Jason forced himself to his feet, walking over towards Roy, who looked at him hesitantly. “Jaybird? You okay?”
“Yeah,” Jason said, making his voice as soft as he could, even if it made him sound like he just had a cold. “Yeah, I just… Christ, Roy, m’sorry you had to deal with that. That you had to deal with it, and that your dad was such a shitheel ‘bout it.”
Roy blinked at him, even as he stood a bit unsteadily. “I… Jason, I came out here to apologize to you . Not you-”
“Yeah, and you did. You apologized, I’m gonna have to work on forgivin’ you for it -’cause don’t be an idiot , m’not leavin’ -but now it’s my turn to tell you I’m sorry about what happened. And that… And that I found out like that. That you didn’t… You didn’t get a choice in tellin’ me, anymore’n I got a choice in how you found out ‘bout me and Jack,” Jason said gruffly, shifting his good shoulder around at how awkward it felt to say it. “So… Yeah. M’sorry. You’re sorry, and I’m sorry, and we… fuck it, we’ll… I’ll work on forgivin’ you, and we’ll figure our way through it.”
“I… Jesus, Jason. You are…” Roy leaned forward, and pulled him into a tight hug. “You are way too good for me, Jaybird. You’re… Christ, you’re amazing, you know that?”
Jason pulled back a bit, rolling his eyes. “Let’s not get too carried away there, Romeo. S’not… Totally selfish, you know? We just signed for a house together, be real awkward if you had to go share a room with Dick. He snores like a tractor trailer downshiftin’.”
Roy barked out a sharp laugh, before pulling Jason closer again. “I love you, you know that? Not… not just ‘cause of… of this , but… You really are fuckin’ amazing, Jason. Come here.” He sat back down, and started pulling Jason down towards him.
“Huh? Jesus, Roy, we’re gonna bust the chair,” Jason said, pulling back.
“Fuck it, it cost twenty bucks at Wal-Mart, I’ll get another one. C’mon.”
It took more than a little bit of maneuvering, but finally, Jason sat, his legs on either side of Roy’s, chest to chest, and his head resting on Roy’s shoulder.
“M’glad you’re gonna work on forgivin’ me, Jay,” Roy said quietly. “Don’t know what my life would be like without you.”
Jason squirmed a little uncomfortably. “Well, Lian would have to learn to cook real quick, you’re fuckin’ hopeless.”
Roy chuckled. “We all done with the sappy for today, that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?”
“Yeah. But… this ain’t half bad. Kinda comfy.”
Dick walked into the second family room -that had been designated as the kids’ family room -and spotted both the kids curled up on the old sofa from his apartment, silently watching Ninjago.
“Hey. You guys good?” he asked quietly, leaning against the door jam.
Lian shrugged half-heartedly. Damian didn’t even do that much, just staring at the TV, and Dick sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do here -not least of which was because he didn’t even know how much the kids had heard -but he tentatively asked, “You guys mind if I join you?”
Lee shrugged again, but Damian’s face lit up a little bit, and he scooched over, until there was enough room between him and Lee for Dick to sit down.
“So… you know um… nobody’s mad at you two, right?” he said, after watching Kai and Nea arguing on the screen for a minute. “That was just… that was some adult stuff goin’ on, and -”
“What kinda adult stuff?” Damian asked tentatively, giving up on the show, and curling up under Dick’s arm. “Uncle Jay sounded mad, and Uncle Roy yelled at Lee.” He frowned a bit, glancing over at his cousin. “He hurt her feelings, and she wasn’t doing nothing.”
“S’fine, Dami,” Lee mumbled, still staring at the TV.
“No, it’s not fine, Lee,” Dick said quietly, cautiously reaching over, and rubbing her shoulder with one hand; he was still feeling Lian out, trying not to step in her personal bubble or overstep her boundaries, but clearly she was upset. “Your dad just… He was upset, and he was worried, and wanted to keep you safe, so he was… He got a little sharp. But he wasn’t angry at you, or Damian, or Uncle Jay. He still shouldn’t have done it, but -”
“S’okay.” Despite her words, Lian leaned in a bit closer, until she was almost mirroring Damian, with her head pressed up against his arm. “M’fine.”
Dick sighed, and picked his arm up, carefully -and slowly, so she could pull away or tell him no -wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “It’s not okay, Lian; just because… just because you’re mad, doesn’t mean you can yell at people who didn’t… who didn’t do anything,” Dick said, knowing he was probably fucking it all up, but at the moment, he was the only one available. “But your dad isn’t mad. I promise. He’s just talking to Jay, and then he’ll come inside, and everything’s gonna be fine. None of that had anything to do with you.”
“Who was it, dad?” Damian asked, when Lian didn’t say anything else. “Why was Uncle Roy mad? Were they…”
Dick watched, as Damian struggled to try and come up with words, to try and describe what he’d heard. Which was fair, because Dick could count on one hand the amount of times he’d ever gotten sharp with Damian, so the whole thing was something Damian was trying to process.
Too many things were new, things he had to learn how to deal with. People knocking on the door, having a yard, loud voices in general , since Dick wasn’t naturally someone who spoke loud to begin with.
“Why was he mad?” Damian finally repeats his question, unable to put it more into words than that.
“Because… The man at the door was someone who… who hurt him,” Dick settled on.
Lian’s eyes snapped over to him, her frown growing deeper. “Who was it?”
“That’s… something you’ll have to talk to your dad about, kiddo,” Dick said after a moment. “I… He’s okay now, though. But he wasn’t mad at you.”
She stared for a second, before tentatively asking, “Like when Jay’s leg is botherin’ him, and he gets growly?”
“Yeah,” Dick said quickly, feeling relieved. “Yeah, it’s just… seeing the people who were here hurt like Jason’s knee hurts sometimes, and he didn’t want them around you, so he got ‘growly’.”
Lian took a few seconds, clearly thinking that over, before she nodded, and stood up. “Okay.”
“Uh… where you going, Lee?” Dick asked in confusion, standing up himself.
“To make sure Dad’s okay.” She said it so simply, so confidently, Dick was caught-off guard. “Sometimes, when Jay’s leg hurts, he says a hug makes him feel better. So I’m gonna go give him a hug, and let him know it’s okay that he was growly.”
Before Dick can figure out whether or not that’s a good thing, whether or not he should give Jason and Roy more time to talk, she practically marched out of the room, Damian scrambling after her, and Dick following along behind them, still unsure.
When he spotted Roy and Jason, out of the kitchen window over the sink, he briefly debated on stopping the kids; Jason was sitting on Roy’s lap, his head tucked against Roy’s shoulder, Roy’s arms around him. But before he could make a decision either way, Lian opened the patio door, and was already outside.
It said something, that she didn’t hesitate, that she wasn’t scared, or frightened at all, as she sidled up next to Roy and Jay, and wrapped her arms around her dad as best she could.
“Lee…” Roy sounded choked, like he was trying to hold back tears. “Baby, I -”
“It’s okay, Dad,” she said, her voice firm. “It’s like Jay’s knee when it hurts. So it’s okay.”
“It’s not, Lee. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped,” Roy said softly. “And I’m sorry.”
Lian just nodded, still hugging her dad around Jason. A moment later, Damian came up on their other side, and wrapped his little arms around Jason.
And for the first time ever, Dick regretted that he didn’t have a camera phone.
Chapter Text
Jason took a deep breath, glancing around the living room one more time. He had everything -he knew he did -but he couldn’t help but run through his checklist again as he stared at the two backpacks sitting there, while he listened to Roy and Dick discussing… something, he wasn’t really paying attention. In the three weeks since Queen had shown up on their doorstep, Roy and Dick had gotten a lot closer, which was... a good thing. Normally, Jason would've been happy to see two of the three most important people in his life getting along so well.
But at the moment... he was too busy making sure that everything was set. That he had everything. That everything was going the way it should.
He had his sketch pad, and a few pencils, his phone charger, two changes of fresh clothes, and extra socks. Dick’s backpack had a few books for him and Roy, their phone chargers, two tupperware containers of tuna casserole he’d made last night, and two bags of cookies, along with a change of clothes for Roy.
There wasn’t even that much they needed. If everything went well, Jason would be out of surgery in about ten hours, and Roy and Dick would be trading off on going home and taking care of things; it wasn’t as if he’d be in the hospital for months this time. A week at most, if everything went well. Roy and Dick could sleep in their own beds tonight, if they wanted to, although they’d both already insisted somebody would be with him each night until he came home.
And Tim had the kids; they’d packed Tim’s car last night, two backpacks full of clothes, Lian’s tent, Damian’s stuffed teddy bear, and even the turtles in their glass aquarium had been relocated for the week. Tomorrow, Saturday, Tim and Bernard would be taking them to the children’s museum, and if they needed anything, it wasn’t like Roy or Dick wouldn’t be able to get there.
Everything was set. It was as planned and prepared as Jason could make sure of. He was going to work on designs for commissions, so he’d still be helping out, even while he was in the hospital. Dick and Roy had gotten the next two days off, and Tim had the whole week off to be with the kids.
He glanced around the living room again, feeling like something was caught in his throat. This wasn’t like the last time he’d been in the hospital; he wouldn’t be there for months. By next Friday, he’d be home again, and he’d be back in the living room, laying on his couch, and everything would be fine. There was no reason for him to be nervous, to feel like he was looking around the room for the last time.
“You ready, Jaybird?”
Startled, Jason couldn’t stop from flinching a bit. “Huh?”
Roy gave him a small smile. “You ready to go?”
“Oh. Yeah, uh…” He went to grab the bags, but Dick beat him to it, grabbing both backpacks, and hiking them on his shoulder by a single strap.
“I got it, Jay,” he said, giving Jason a reassuring smile that did absolutely nothing to calm the growing sense of wrong that Jason felt. But Dick continued on, “Got your phone?”
“Uh… yeah. And the chargers are in the backpack. And I put some of your drawing stuff in there, Roy, that way you’ll have something to do. While you wait. Since you don’t want to come back home,” Jason said, even as he started running through the list again.
Food. Clothes. Stuff for him and Roy for work. Cellphone chargers. Books.
“Jay.”
Jason jerked his head up, looking over at Roy, who was giving him a small smile. “What?”
“It’s okay. It’s just to the hospital. Forty-five minute trip at most,” Roy said gently. “If we forget somethin’, I’ll run back and get it, or I’ll call Tim.”
He forced himself to nod. “Right. Yeah, I know. It’s fine. We can… we should probably get goin’.”
“Yeah. I’ll go get the truck warmin’ up, alright?” Roy swooped in for a quick kiss. “Come out in five, and we’ll get rollin’.”
Jason nodded, and watched him walk out the front door. It… it was fine. There was no reason to feel like something was trying to strangle his ribcage; nothing had even happened yet, and the surgery…
It had pretty good odds. They’d looked into it -him and Roy, with Dick and Tim’s input -and the surgery was one of the safest he could get. Not that it was safe, there were no guarantees with any surgery, especially an experimental one, but it had had a lot of success. In a worst case, they’d open him up, and realize the damage was more severe than they thought, and decide against doing it.
That was literally the worst case. That it wouldn’t work. Anything else, and they’d just cancel the surgery.
They weren’t gonna take his leg, no matter what. He and Roy had been clear with Dr. Becerra: if it looked like it wouldn’t work, they stopped the surgery. No amputation.
And the doctor had reassured them that amputation wasn’t an option; there would be nothing that could pop up during the surgery that would put amputation on the table.
“You’re gonna be fine, Jay.”
He looked over at Dick, who was standing there awkwardly, backpacks on his shoulder. “I know.”
“I know you do, but… You’re gonna be home in a week,” Dick said, his voice quiet. “Maybe sooner. A few months in the wheelchair, and then you’ll be good as new. Then no more pain, no more muscle spasms… You’re gonna be chasing after the kids by your birthday.”
“I know.” He forced a smile, hoping it didn’t feel as shaky as it felt. “Hell, maybe I’ll have you teach me some flips or something. How to do a cartwheel.”
Dick returned his smile with one of his own, although he realized that Dick looked almost as nervous as Jason felt. “Sure, Jay. We’ll get the kids to help balance you out.”
He couldn’t help but snort a bit at that. “Yeah, that’d go great. Flop over, crush them both; we can all be crippled.”
Before Dick could respond, they heard the horn honk on the truck, and Jason sighed.
“I guess… guess we’re set then, huh?”
“Yeah. You okay?” Dick asked quietly, as they walked out the front door, Dick taking a moment to lock it with his keys.
“I… Yeah. Yeah, m’fine. Like you said, be home in a week, right?” Jason forced himself to say casually. “No big deal.”
He waited for Dick to finish locking the door, to fall in step next to him, as they trudged their way down to the curb, where Roy sat in the truck, the exhaust even more obvious in the cool morning air. While it was still pretty warm during the day, at night -and early morning -it dropped down into the fifties, and Jason had the idle thought that, if everything went well, this would be the last cool morning he’d have to suffer through stiffness and locked muscles.
Dick threw the backpacks into the storage container in the back, strapping it closed again, before he slid into the middle of the seat, letting Jason have the outside, their usual system the few times all three of them had to go places together.
Everything was fine. Everything was normal. There was no reason for Jason to feel nervous and anxious, no reason for him to feel like it was the last time he’d see the house again as they pulled away.
It would be fine. Hell, he even knew what to expect this time around, and he’d tried to brace for it as best he could. The fact that he’d be stuck in bed, or on the couch, unable to move under his own power without the wheelchair, the embarrassment of either Roy or Dick having to help him use the bathroom, that he’d be be in gym shorts or sweatpants for months.
And it was fine. He wasn’t going to let himself be an asshole about it again; he looked back on it, on how he’d treated Dick and Tim the first six months in the apartment, and honestly? He didn’t deserve his brothers. He’d been an absolute prick, constantly miserable and snapping at everybody, constantly moody and depressing. Every time someone had tried to help, Jason had treated them like shit, and he wasn’t going to do that again.
Besides, if everything went well… he wouldn’t have nearly the amount of pain. Sure, he’d still be helpless, and mostly immobile, but in theory, he shouldn’t be in pain. Which would make a huge difference. The pain those first few months after he’d gotten out of the hospital, as he’d tried to stretch his painkillers out as far as possible -at almost fifty dollars a bottle, he knew Dick couldn’t afford that -meaning that on top of being frustrated, embarrassed, and angry, he’d also been in pain.
And he’d learned. He liked to think he’d actually matured a bit, that he knew better than to take it out on people just trying to help. He also knew there was an end.
That’d been half of the problem the first time around; nobody knew if he’d ever be able to take the cast off first. Then later if he’d ever be able to walk without the brace, or how well he’d be able to walk even if he could take it off. But this time, he knew that in six months, if everything went well, he’d be walking on his own, theoretically without pain. In a worst case, it wouldn’t work, and they’d know that in a few weeks, if the implanted cartilage wasn’t attaching like it should. So either way, he’d know it didn’t work in a few weeks, or he’d know that he’d be walking again in six months.
So less pain, and he knew what to expect; all things that would make this time around significantly easier.
Not to mention, he had the kids; he wasn’t about to let Lian or Damian see him snapping and yelling, cussing out people who were just trying to help. It was the biggest motivator, if he was being honest with himself, a motivation and a fear.
He risked a glance over at Dick, and saw that Dick looked nervous too, although he was trying to put on a brave face about it. Which was fair, since he’d been there last time around, and he knew exactly what a jackass Jason had been. Part of Jason wanted to reassure him, tell him it wouldn’t be like that this time, wanted to promise him, but…
Maybe if Roy hadn’t been in the truck, he would have. But as it stood, he didn’t want Roy to ever know exactly how much of a little shithead he’d been, how much of an asshole. Roy thought he knew, because Jason still got bitchy -or as Lian liked to put it ‘growly -when his knee acted up, but it was nothing like he’d been as an angry teenager.
The trip passed in relative silence, only broken by Roy occasionally trying to make conversation that neither Dick nor Jason engaged in; Jason probably should’ve, since Roy was making an effort, but he was way too tense to even think about carrying on small talk.
But in an hour and a half -one of the longest trips of Jason’s life -they finally arrived at the hospital. Roy dropped him and Dick off at the door, then went to find a place to park, while Jason and Dick went to figure out where to go to check in.
Luckily, the waiting room was empty, aside from the nurse at the check-in desk, and a janitor sweeping up. Which really wasn’t all that surprising probably, seeing as how this section of the hospital was on the opposite side from the E.R.
Dick walked up to the desk, Jason’s backpack on his shoulder -Roy would bring the other one in -and gave the nurse a shaky looking smile.
“Hi. Jason Todd, to see Dr. Becerra,” he said quietly.
“Hi,” the nurse said, sounding surprisingly cheerful, given that it was five thirty in the morning. “I’ll just need to see some ID so I can get you guys checked in, then Dr. Becerra will come out to get you when everything’s set, Mr. Todd.”
“Huh? Oh, no; I’m… This is Jason,” Dick said sheepishly, motioning towards Jason. “I’m his brother. And his partner’s coming in behind us, he just had to go park the truck.”
“Ah. Well then, Mr. Todd?” the woman said, giving Jason a smile, and honestly, Jason had to give her some credit; she didn’t even blink as he stepped closer, taking in his scars without flinching. “Let’s get you registered first, so Dr. Becerra knows you’re here, then we’ll get your brother signed in. Sound like a plan?”
“Uh… sure,” Jason said slowly, tugging his wallet out of his front pocket, and pulling out his license. “Did… my brother -my other brother -was gonna call with the insurance information, and -”
“It’s all set already, Mr. Todd,” the nurse said, taking his license, and putting it through a scanning machine. “And Dr. O’Shea from Mercy already sent over all your medical history that he has, and you already filled out all the heavy duty paperwork; all we have this morning is the basic ‘have you been sick in the last week’, and consent forms. Here you go.” She handed him both the clipboard with some papers on it and his ID back. “If you want to get started filling that out, we can -”
“I got it,” Dick said firmly, taking the clipboard; he passed Jason his license, and tucked the clipboard under his arm, tugging out his own wallet, and presenting the lady with his identity card. “I’m his brother, Dick Grayson.”
The lady looked a little surprised, her eyes moving back and forth between Dick and Jason; thankfully, whatever she saw made her choose to ignore it. Which was definitely a good thing, Jason didn’t need any more embarrassment today of all days.
“Of course, Mr. Grayson; just make sure your brother answers the questions to the best of his ability. I -this one with you too?” she asked, nodding towards the doors as Roy walked in.
“Yeah. Yeah, he’s my partner,” Jason said, feeling a bit more relaxed as Roy came up, and slipped an arm around waist.
“Alright; can I get some ID? You guys can start filling out the paperwork while I get these set.”
“Sure” Roy said, tightening his grip around Jason’s waist, just a little, before letting go. “Dick, you want me to take that?” He motioned towards the backpack, but Dick shook his head.
“Nah, I got it. C’mon, Jay.”
Part of Jason wanted to be angry at the kid gloves, at Roy and Dick treating him like he was gonna break down, or fall apart; the other part of him knew the only reason he hadn’t snapped and run out the door like a coward was because Dick was all but holding his hand.
Hell, he just followed after Dick like a fucking puppy dog, trailing behind his brother as they made their way over to the small sitting area. Dick motioned Jason into a chair, and then set the bag down, before sitting down himself, and looking over the paperwork.
“This is all pretty basic stuff; you want me to just fill it out?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure.” Jason shrugged. “Not like you don’t know it better’n I do anyways.”
Dick chuckled, although Jason didn’t miss the nervous edge to it. “Yeah, probably. Not like your blood type or allergies have changed in ten years.”
Jason shrugged half-heartedly, his good leg tapping against the floor. “Probably not.”
He glanced around the room, feeling the anxiety crawling up his spine as he did. Christ, he hated hospitals. That first year in the apartment, he’d had three more surgeries on his knee, and two on his shoulder, and that wasn’t counting his original three month stay. Each time, nothing had gone the way it should’ve, and he’d ended up looking at more and more hospital stays, more and more time laying in a hospital bed, more and more medications, more and more time being absolutely helpless.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath. It was different this time around; not only had he chosen to have this surgery, but if everything went well… He’d never have to be in a hospital again. He’d never be helpless again. Everything would be… well, not smooth sailing, because he was still him, but better than it’d been in almost fifteen years at least.
All he had to do was not freak out, and ruin everything by being a jackass.
“All set, Jay?”
Jason opened his eyes, and forced himself to attempt a smile at Roy. “Yeah. Think we got everything. Um… One of you needs to remember to keep Tim in the loop.”
“Already on it,” Roy said easily, sitting down in the chair next to him. “Shot him a text before we left, and another one when we got here. Kids are still sleeping, and the turtles are doing fine. Also, we might have to have a conversation with him when you’re outta here; apparently, not only did he buy Lee all three Ninja Turtles movies, but he also bought her all ten seasons of the 90s cartoons.” He chuckled, before glancing over Jason at Dick. “Figure I should probably apologize in advance, since Damian’s gonna end up hooked on ‘em too.”
“Maybe we can get a turtle for him, so we can have all four of ‘em,” Dick said absently, still filling out the paperwork.
“I’d say we could make it his Christmas present, but I feel like that’s more something for both of them.”
Jason let the conversation wash over him, as he stared at the double doors, waiting for Dr. Becerra to come out. The guy was -according to Tim -one of the best doctors in the state, with articles and clinical trials out the ass; he’d spent his career either fixing, growing, or replacing cartilage, and Jason got the impression the guy was almost as excited to do the surgery as Dick, Tim, and Roy were about Jason getting it.
Apparently, Jason was the perfect candidate for the surgery, given that most of his cartilage had been shattered and destroyed, and what was left had been driven into the muscles or bone around it. Tim wasn’t even paying for that much supposedly, since it was a clinical trial with a bunch of grants, and if it worked, the doctor would get… whatever the doctor’s equivalent of a Nobel prize was.
Which, admittedly, did make Jason feel a little better; the doctor was just as invested in the surgery working as Jason was. It meant almost as much to Dr. Becerra as it did to him, which meant for the guy to be as hopeful as he was, was a good sign.
And it wasn’t like Jason didn’t know what would happen; he’d been through the song and dance before. Changing into the stupid hospital gown, getting his vitals taken, the IV set up, and then the anesthesiologist would come in. Count back from a hundred, as if he’d ever made it past ninety.
Wake up loopy as hell, spend a few hours bouncing between asleep and high as a kite while he came down from the anesthesia, get moved from the ward into a room, and finally talk to a doctor and figure out if it’d worked or not.
A week of shitty hospital food and nurses coming in and out, being poked and prodded every few hours, and then… home.
It was all gonna be just fine, and he knew it. Which meant it was stupid for him to be so nervous about the whole thing.
“-ay?”
Jason blinked a few times, looking at Roy’s hand on his good knee. “Huh?”
“I asked if you were okay,” Roy said quietly. Jason realized that Dick had walked back up to the counter to turn in the paperwork, and was talking to the nurse; had Jason signed the paperwork already? He was pretty sure he was supposed to sign the consent forms.
“Yeah. Yeah, m’fine,” he said, wishing his voice sounded sturdier. “Just… wanna get it over with, you know?”
Roy nodded. “Yeah. I talked to the nurse, she said one of us could go back with you, and stay until they take you to the O.R.; I figured it’d probably make Dick feel a bit better if it was him, so I’ll wait in the waiting room; apparently they have a special one behind the doors for family of people having surgery.”
It wouldn’t just make Dick feel better; Jason knew they’d let someone back there with him, and he was a bit ashamed to admit he’d just assumed it’d be Dick. It’d always been Dick there when he started counting backwards, every time he had surgery.
Roy must’ve realized it too, at least somewhat, or he would’ve asked which one Jason wanted. But he didn’t ask, didn’t put Jason on the spot of having to pick between him and Dick.
Jason forced his hand to slide over Roy’s, giving it a little squeeze. “I uh… You’re… pretty great, you know that, right?” he said, his voice thick.
Roy just grinned. “Yeah. I know I am. It’s why I wear hats all the time; if everybody knew I was a red-head, on top of all the other awesome? I’d get mobbed every time I left the house.”
Despite himself, despite the nervousness, Jason couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” he said, “It’s the hair that really sells it.”
“Hey, don’t underestima -” Roy stopped, as the double doors opened, and a nurse walked out. “That’s probably for you.”
Sure enough, the nurse looked over at Jason, and smiled; they’d met a few weeks ago during the consultation. “Mr. Todd. How’re you feeling this morning?”
“Ready as I’m ever gonna be,” Jason said, hauling himself to his feet.
“Alright. Well then, if you boys want to follow me back, we can go ahead and get your friends situated in the waiting room, and -”
“His brother’s going back to the anesthesiologist with him,” Roy said quickly, as he waved to get Dick’s attention.
The nurse just nodded. “Of course. Come on back then, and we’ll get this show on the road. Dr. Becerra is already prepped and waiting, so we might even be ahead of schedule if everything goes well.”
Chapter 7
Notes:
Short chapter this week. For those following along with other stuff, as a general update...
I'm gonna try and do Whumptober this year, so keep an eye out for that.
The epilogue to the serial killer batman fic is... well. I've been having a lot of writer's block or just plain brain revolt, so it's coming. I'm 10 chapters in. I have no idea how long it's going to end up being. Sorry.
The next ICU part is about half done. But again, I just took a week and a half break from writing to try and get my head on straight so... Yeah. I promise I'm trying lol.
Chapter Text
Roy fiddled absently with his key chain, as he watched the double doors Dick and Jason had disappeared through twenty minutes ago.
As soon as they’d gone, Roy had let the smile fall from his face, let the exhaustion show, as he’d flopped into the chair. Mostly because yeah, Jason and Dick were clearly nervous, but they didn’t seem worried. Even when they’d first been discussing surgeries, they’d glossed over most of the ‘risks’ that apparently came with every surgery -which was news to Roy -jumping right into the success rates of the surgery.
Hell, Dick had talked about Jason’s knee like he was a doctor, asking about complications from the osteomyelitis surgeries, if there would be enough of Jason’s original bone for the cartilage to attach to, and a shit ton of other questions that Roy barely understood.
It’d been a bit eye-opening, honestly; he hadn’t been able to stop himself from thinking about an eighteen year old Dick, researching medical terms so he’d be able to ask doctors questions about his little brother’s surgeries. About how routine the whole thing seemed to be for them. They’d fallen into a rhythm like it was second nature, and Dick in particular had all but taken over working with Dr. Becerra. Informing the guy about which painkillers worked best for Jason, which antibiotics the doctors a decade ago had used most successfully, about casts and braces, crutches and mobility concerns like it was just another Tuesday.
All while Roy had sat, almost completely useless, just trying to keep up with even a part of the conversation.
Jason had seemed content to let Dick take point on it; Roy wasn’t sure if it was because Dick knew more, or if it was just habit, another part of the routine and dynamic of the brothers’ relationship that he was starting to realize he’d never understand.
Or maybe ‘understand’ was the wrong word; he could understand it, he was just starting to realize he hadn’t understood how far it’d reached. Because for the first time, he was starting to realize that Dick and Jason -and hell, definitely Tim -had blurred the lines between ‘sibling’ and ‘parent’ so hard, in so many different ways, that Roy wasn’t even sure there was a line.
Jason hadn’t really mentioned much about his birth parents, other than that his mother had O.D.’ed, and his father was serving a life sentence in Blackgate; Roy knew less about Tim’s parents, other than what Jason had told him about treating Tim like a prized poodle.
Then of course, there’d been Jack Napier. So maybe Jason and Tim didn’t even really understand what parents were, didn’t realize the responsibilities, and pressures that Dick had taken on when he’d formally adopted them.
And Christ if it didn’t make more sense why Dick worried about everything; he’d taken care of two traumatized teenagers while still a teenager himself, playing parent, brother, advocate, and nurse, all while working two jobs.
He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. He couldn’t have done it; he was honest enough with himself to admit to that. Hell, he’d barely been able to take care of himself and Lian when Jade had shown up at his doorstep with a six-month old Lee in a ratty onesie, overfull diaper, two dirty bottles and an expired can of formula.
“Roy?”
He jerked a bit, practically jumping out of the chair as he spotted Dick coming towards him. He hadn’t even heard the doors open, much less seen Dick walk halfway down the hallway.
“Hey,” he said quickly, pulling himself to his feet. “How’d it go? He in already?”
Dick nodded. “Yeah. Everything was all set to go when we got back there, all Jason had to do was get changed. He made it to ninety-six,” he added, giving Roy a nervous smile. “He’s gonna be mad, he made it to ninety-one last time.”
Roy couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous at that. “Is that… bad?”
“Huh? No. No, it’s… The anesthesiologist at Mercy used to joke about it. Said Jay making it to ninety-one was impressive,” Dick said, shrugging a bit, before he sat down in the chair next to where Roy had been sitting.
And now that Roy was looking, Dick looked… exhausted. Nervous. He’d been nervous before -hell, the ride over had been tense as shit -but he’d clearly been trying to hide it. But sitting in the chair, he finally looked like Roy felt.
Roy sat down next to him. After a second, he gently nudged his knee into Dick’s. “Hey. He’s gonna be fine,” he said quietly.
“Of course he will.” The response was almost automatic, like Dick didn’t think about it. “He’ll be fine. He always does -did -great during surgery. It’s just…”
His voice trailed off, and Roy waited as patiently as he could. Clearly Dick had something he wanted to say, and was figuring out how to say it. And it wasn’t like they didn’t have ten hours at a minimum to kill.
So Roy readjusted his hat, before leaning back in his chair, forcing himself to look more relaxed. It was a lot of effort -Christ, he wanted to tap his foot, or drum his fingers against the arm -but after a few minutes, Dick finally spoke again.
“It… before. In the basement.”
Roy blinked; that definitely wasn’t what he was expecting. And he really didn’t want to have the ‘boundaries’ conversation, not with Dick, and not in the hospital while waiting for Jason to come out of surgery.
“Dick, I don’t -”
“Roy, please,” Dick said, his voice quiet. “I… I need you to understand. So just… I wouldn’t… I’m not Tim. I wouldn’t just tell you things, but… you need to… need to know why.”
“I know why his knee’s fucked up, Dick,” Roy said as gently as he could. “I know what happened.”
“No, that’s not…” Dick sucked in a deep breath, and his shoulders… ‘twitched’ wasn’t the right word, it was more like a muscle spasm, both shoulders jerking a bit. “Jason’s gonna… In the basement, after… after his knee. He was… You’ve seen him now, when he’s worked too hard, or he moves the wrong way, but… Imagine that when it was still trying to heal. He couldn’t… He couldn’t walk, he couldn’t even really crawl. I… it was a few days after, maybe… maybe a week?” Dick shook his head, almost as if he was trying to shake something off. “It was hard to keep track of time, but… He was trying to curl up, because… he was sick, and he’d already puked, and…”
Dick went quiet again. The whole hospital seemed to go quiet, just for a few seconds, before he spoke again.
“I remember… He was trying to roll over, and his leg just… It wouldn’t move. It wasn’t even just the pain stopping him, it was that his leg just… didn’t work. Later, Dr. O’Shea… he said it was ‘cause of all the damage, and that Jason was lucky he didn’t end up permanently paralyzed in his leg. I… There was a reason they wanted to take his leg, Roy; I didn’t agree with it then, and I don’t now, but… they weren’t just trying to make things easier. You… You’ve seen his knee after four surgeries in the hospital, and three in that first year. What you see now? That’s… that’s after it’s been operated on seven times. That’s as good as they could get it.
“You know Jason now, after he’s had almost ten years of learning how to walk. You’ve seen how stiff he gets, how hard it is for him to move sometimes,” Dick continued softly. “Back in the basement, he… He couldn’t move, Roy. He just…”
When Dick stopped, Roy couldn’t help himself. “Dick… Nothin’s gonna go wrong, man. It’s… Jason already talked to the doctor: if he can’t fix it, he’s not gonna do the operation. It won’t be like that again,” he said, trying to put as much confidence into his voice as he could.
“No! No, I…” Dick looked frustrated, as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. I… I need you to just… just be quiet and let me… let me try and get this out, okay?”
Roy couldn’t do anything but nod stupidly, and Dick continued on.
“When… Those first few months, Jack was still… still letting me go to school. So I wasn’t there. And sometimes… Sometimes, Jack would come home early from work, and…” Dick took another deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “It’s… Look, he’s gonna… The next three months? He’s gonna be an asshole, okay? He’s gonna… he’s gonna say things, really shitty things. And you’re gonna wanna scream, and yell back -Christ knows, I said some shit to him that I can never take back -but… When he does, I just… I need you to think about Jason as a kid. A kid, layin’ on a dirty mattress with no sheets, hearing the basement door open.
“Imagine the most… The most helpless you’ve ever felt, Roy. And… And I know you… You and your teacher, and… Imagine that helplessness, and being unable to do anything about it. Because your body physically won’t move, won’t do what you want it to,” Dick all but whispered. “Then imagine Jason, laying there, hearing that door open, and Jack coming down the stairs, and… and knowing he had nowhere to go. Nothing he could do except lay there and wait for… for Jack to hurt him more.”
It took a moment of silence, as Dick finished speaking, for all of that to sink in. When it finally did… Roy felt like he was going to puke.
“I… Jesus, Dick,” he finally managed. “That’s… Christ.”
Dick nodded stiffly, chewing on his lip before he spoke again. “I know. I know it’s not… He doesn’t do helpless good, Roy. And that’s why. I don’t know if… if he even knows why he does it. It wasn’t until after he got mobile, and started working at Jenny’s that I started thinking about it. I mean… Jason’s always… He’s never been the most trusting guy, even when we first met, but… Helpless, for Jason, I think, always meant he was gonna get hurt. He’s never… He’s never been helpless and had someone just help. So… You just… It’s not his fault if he gets shitty.
“I’m not saying that like… like he can just say whatever the hell he wants,” Dick continues softly. “He can’t, and I know that, but… He doesn’t mean it. And if you let him… let him just ride it out, if you walk away, and let him calm down, it… It goes better. He’s not doing it on purpose, he just… He reacts. And… and maybe he’s gotten better; maybe he’s… you make him happy, you and Lee, so maybe… Maybe it won’t even be an issue. But… if it is…” Dick’s voice trailed off, as he stared down at his hands.
Christ. Roy wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to say to that. That was…
He closed his eyes, just for a moment. He immediately opened them again, when an image of a small, sick Jason, laying on a mattress, scared, unable to move, danced behind his eyelids.
“I know it’s not his fault, Dick,” he managed to croak out. “I… We’re gonna get through this, like we get through everything, and… You don’t have to deal with it alone this time,” he added. Part of him felt like he should clasp Dick on the knee, or shoulder, or nudge him with his own knee again, but he couldn’t quite make himself do it. “There’s two of us now, and Tim and Steph will be there, and… He’s gonna be fine, and we’ll get through it, and when it’s over… He’s… He’s gonna be fine.”
Dick nodded. “I know he is. He’s… Jason’s the strongest person I know.”
“‘Cause of you,” Roy pointed out, finally pulling his thoughts together. When Dick just blinked at him, Roy forced himself to smile. “Jason’s strong, yeah. But he’s strong because of you, Dick. You… Even the few things I’ve heard, you did everything you could to make sure he was taken care of. This surgery thing? I’ve been asking him for over a year to consider it, and he turned me down every time. And… Watching you help him through this? I don’t know if he would’ve gone through with it if not for you.”
Dick just stared at him for a minute, before ducking his head to stare at his hands. “It’s… it’s no big deal; a lot of this stuff, I still remember from the first few times,” he said, chuckling weakly. “Jason’s the one who has to deal with it, I can fill out some forms. Least I can do, you know?”
“No.” Roy shook his head slowly. “That’s… That’s not the least you could do, Dick. It’s… You could’ve walked away, after the trial. You know that, right? You could’ve made a life for yourself, without having to take care of Jason and Tim. You didn’t… none of this was stuff you had to do. You chose to do all this, Dick. Just like you’re doing it for him now. And it…” He struggled for a minute, trying to figure out how to word it. “Jason doesn’t like people helping him, you know? He likes to do things on his own. Hell, I’ve even seen him tell Tim to back off. But not you. He lets you help him.
“And… you’re right, he doesn’t like being helpless. Not even with me,” Roy admitted quietly. “But he’s not scared to be helpless with you, Dick. And Jason loves me, I know that. He trusts me. But you’re the only person he’s not afraid to let help him when he needs it. Just… think about that, okay?”
Chapter Text
Dick hated the waiting. He'd forgotten just how much he hated it, but right then, sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, watching the seconds hands tick by, he was starting to remember.
He'd done this seven times. Seven times, after the initial few weeks, when the doctors hadn't known for sure if Jason was ever going to wake up, or what the damage would be if he did. Sitting, watching, waiting.
He knew better than to hope the doctors would come out early; he'd learned fairly quickly that coming out earlier than expected tended to mean something was wrong; that they'd given up and called it because they couldn't do anything else.
So he was stuck in a limbo of staring at the clock, willing it to move faster, while praying the doctors didn't come out until the estimated time. Beside him, Roy was sketching in his sketch book Jay had packed for him, although from way Roy kept erasing the paper, he wasn't doing much better than Dick.
Dick glanced over, watching as Roy erased something else, glaring at the paper as he rubbed the eraser over it hard enough that he was probably ruining it. And Dick knew he should say something, should tell Roy that it would all be fine, that Jason had done this before, and he was always fine.
Sure, sometimes the surgery didn't go well; that'd happened three different times, but even if… even if the surgery didn't work, Jason would be fine. And they would handle anything else that happened.
But it was going to work. It had to work; Dick was finally starting to understand just why Jason had always been so opposed to getting it done, to looking into something that could fix it.
Because Dick couldn't imagine what it would do to his little brother if it failed. If his last shot at normalcy was taken away from him. Hell, Dick wasn't sure what he would do, if he was being honest; he'd spent the last few weeks letting himself hope that maybe it would work. That maybe Jason could have a life without constant pain, without limping, or dreading the cold setting in during the winter.
The idea that it might not work… that they'd leave in a few days, and go back to the way things had been for more than a decade left a sick feeling swirling in Dick's gut.
"Dick?"
Dick's head snapped up at the sound of his name, spotting a tall black man walking over towards them quickly. It wasn't any of the doctors or nurses involved in Jason's surgery, Dick had met all of them, but…
"Luke?" he asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice as he stood up.
"It is you!" Luke said warmly, coming over, and giving Dick a big smile. "I stopped by to check my schedule, and spotted your brother's name on the O.R. schedule."
"Yeah," Dick said slowly, still a little caught off-guard. "Yeah, he's… he's in with Dr. Becerra right now. They think they can fix his leg. Permanently," he added, giving Luke a small smile.
"Really? That's great, man! Dr. Becerra's one of the best; if he thinks he can do it, he can."
From beside Dick, Roy cleared his throat, standing up, and Dick felt his cheeks redden a bit.
"Oh. Right, uh… Luke, this is Roy; he's Jason's partner. Roy, this is Luke. He was Jason and Tim's evening nurse at Gotham Mercy," he said quickly.
"Hi," Luke said, offering his hand out to shake Roy's. "It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," Roy said, sounding more like it was just a pleasant nicety than anything else.
Luke nodded, and then settled his gaze back on Dick. "So, how's Tim doing? I saw his name a few times in the paper; he's big man on campus now, huh?"
"Yeah." Dick made no efforts to keep the pride from his voice. "Youngest criminal psychology professor in Jersey. And he's got a bunch of articles in journals and stuff too."
"That's amazing, Dick," Luke said with a soft smile. "You boys came a long way. Or… well, guess I shouldn't call you 'boys' anymore, huh? Think you guys are older now than you were when I met you. But hey, I can't… I'd love to stay and catch up, but I actually got a thing I'm going to this morning. But I'm on duty tomorrow; maybe I can dip over for a little bit after my shift, if things aren't too crazy?"
"Yeah, that sounds… Jay'd be really glad to see you," Dick said truthfully. While Dick had been busy running around, filing out paperwork and attending court dates, Luke had been one of Jason and Tim's primary nurses during the months between that night, and the end of the trial. "You probably won't even recognize him."
"Hell yeah. Alright, I gotta run, but I'll stop by tomorrow, alright?" With that, Luke nodded towards Roy. "Nice to meet you, man."
"Likewise," Roy said, again, almost seemingly out of reflex. Both Roy and Dick were silent as Luke disappeared back down the hallway, before Roy turned to Dick, raising an eyebrow.
"Luke was the evening nurse when we first… after everything," Dick said, shrugging a little awkwardly as he sat back down. "I was… I had a bunch of paperwork to fill out, court dates for custody, meetings at DSS for shit, and I was just… I couldn't be there a lot of times, and Luke was… He got real close to Tim and Jason. Him and a couple of the other nurses even came to Tim's high school graduation."
"That was nice of 'em. Glad you guys had somebody there for you," Roy said, smiling a little bit as he sat down too.
Dick hesitated for a minute. "I… Listen, I know you… With your dad and Laurel, and… It makes sense. I wouldn't… Obviously that was… what your dad did, it was… But Laurel did a lot for us," he stumbled through his stuttered mess. "And even after the trial, we… When I got Damian, she was the one… I called her, 'cause I didn't know what to do.
"It was like… three in the morning by the time I calmed down enough to realize that I had to call somebody, figure out what I had to do," he continued quietly. "And she never yelled, or… She just told me to give her twenty minutes, and she could come over, and help me figure out what we needed to do. Didn't really occur to me then, but… she never charged me, or asked for anything for it, even though there was a bunch of shit I had to do."
Roy sighed, readjusting his hat, and Dick only just managed to avoid cringing.
"Sorry, I know it -"
"Nah, you're fine," Roy interrupted softly. "It's not… M'not mad at Laurel. Or at least… not 'cause of anything she did to me, or anything to do with you guys," he amended. "Laurel's the closest thing I ever had to a mom. Hell, she's the only thing I ever had even remotely mom like. But her and Ollie… They broke up and got back together all the time, even before Ollie adopted me. She's never…
"She used to say they got along like a house on fire. Burned hot and heavy until there was nothing left. Then one of 'em would do somethin' stupid, they'd have a huge fight, she'd leave, and then it'd all start up again a few months later. They can't stay away from each other, and after… After mine and Ollie's last fight, I knew there wasn't… There just wasn't any way of stayin' in contact with her that didn't mean stayin' in contact with Ollie. But I wasn't ever mad at Laurel," he finished quietly. "And I'm glad you had her to help you out."
"So… you won't be pissed if I meet up with her for coffee or whatever?" Dick asked hesitantly. "She… she mentioned it'd be nice to catch up, but I wasn't… I didn't want to just agree without checking in with you."
Roy shrugged. "You're a grown ass man, Dick; you can hang out with whoever you want. I… I'd rather you didn't do it at the house," he admitted. "But if you do, just… do it when I'm not there, and I don't want her around Lian. Not 'cause of her," he stressed, "But 'cause I don't… if her and Ollie are back together, I don't…"
His voice trailed off, and Dick nodded. "Yeah, of course. I figured I could… There's a little coffee place near the studio, figured maybe before work one day, I could meet her there."
"Yeah, that'd… that'd work," Roy said quietly. "I think… Don't get me wrong, part of me… I'd like to see her. I would. But there's no part of seeing her that doesn't involve Ollie getting involved, and I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that."
Dick just nodded, and leaned back in the chair. There really wasn't anything else that needed to be said; Dick could understand why Roy wouldn't want that in his life, and even appreciate it to a certain extent. Jason and Lian were his family now, and after what Mr. Queen had done to Roy? Dick wouldn't have blamed Roy if he'd said he didn't want Dick meeting up with Laurel.
They settled back into the only 'quiet' that existed in a hospital waiting room: people shuffling in and out, doctors and nurses coming in to quietly take those same people out to talk. The announcement system paging doctors to different departments, and nurses scurrying around like rabbits trying to keep up with everything.
Maybe it was odd that Dick found it… not calming, but known. He was still worried about Jason, and the surgery, obviously, but it was also like slipping into a comfortable pair of shoes; his first experiences outside of Jack's had been this, the quiet roar of a busy hospital, and the controlled chaos of people hurrying around. This was something he knew how to handle, something he was prepared for, something he'd done so much that he knew all the ins and outs.
Even if things went wrong, Dick knew what to do, knew how to handle it. He'd done this so many times, it was lyrics for a song he hadn't heard in years, but could still sing without thinking about it when the song came on the radio.
It was definitely pathetic that a hospital of all things was one of the few places where Dick felt normal levels of worry. Where he wasn't measuring steps to see how far from home or work he was, where all he had to be worried about was if his brothers were going to have a successful surgery, or if they'd have to do this all over again.
And now, at least, he didn't even have the added worry of missing work for this; back when Dick had first gotten the job at Jenny's, before the trial had even started, every surgery had meant Dick was missing at least a few hours, if not a full day of work. He had other things going on, but at least looming bills, and co-pays weren't dangling over his head like an ax, wondering how many meals he'd have to miss to make sure the rent was paid, and Tim and Jay both had their medications.
Which meant, all in all, that Dick's life was… it was actually improving. And not just because he had his brothers back, or because of Damian, but actually, measurably getting better. If the surgery went well, and Jason got full use of his leg back -or even just no more pain -things would probably be about as good as Dick could've ever hoped for.
It was enough. If Jason pulled through the surgery, and everything went well… Dick couldn't really imagine where else his life could go from here.
He held onto that thought as he reached into the backpack Jason had packed for him, pulling out The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. He'd already read it, back when they'd first gotten out, but before the trial, but it was still one of his favorites. The entire series was, honestly, and in the few weeks since they'd moved into the house, Dick had taken to reading it with the kids at night after dinner. Technically, the kids were still on The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, but it was nice that Jason had remembered which one was Dick's favorite.
Time passed in… not a fog, necessarily, but something close, something mindless. At some point, Roy exchanged his sketchpad for a book from his own backpack, and they shared one of the bags of cookies.
So when the nurse came out, and called for 'family of Jason Todd?', it took Dick a minute to pull himself back to the present.
"That's us," he said, standing up, and setting the book in the chair. Beside him, Roy stood too, readjusting his hat.
The nurse gave them a small smile. "Everything is going very well; Dr. Becerra says that if everything keeps going as it is, Jason should be out in a few more hours."
Dick blinked a few times, absolutely stunned. Jason never finished his surgeries early; they never went 'very well'. At best, sometimes it hadn't gone bad.
"Really?" he asked, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice.
But the nurse just nodded, her smile warm. "Really. The procedure is going perfectly, and Jason's doing great. I'll come out again, but it will probably be to tell you it's finished, rather than an update."
"That's… That's great," Roy said, sounding like he might fall over from relief. "That's awesome. Thank you."
"Not a problem; let the nurse at the desk know if you boys need anything, alright?"
With that, she disappeared back out of the waiting room. But Dick just stared after her, still not able to quite grasp it.
"Dick? You… this is good news, man," Roy said, putting his hand on Dick's shoulder. When Dick looked over at him, Roy was looking back at him with concern. "What's wrong?"
"It's… nothing's wrong, it just… It never… This has never happened before," Dick explained. "It doesn't… Jay's surgeries never go well. They… just don't."
Suddenly, it felt like Dick's knees couldn't hold his weight, and he practically collapsed in the chair. Everything was… going good. He felt an almost hysterical laugh bubble up and out of his chest, as he thought about it.
"It's going good, Roy," he said, laughing again. "It's… He's gonna be able to walk again. He's not gonna be in pain."
Roy grinned back at him, as he kneeled down in front of him. "Yeah, he is. He's gonna be out-running the two of us in no time. This is… The first step is outta the way, and in a big way, Dick. He's doin' great, and now we just gotta get him through the recovery, and… Christ, Dick. He's gonna be okay."
Dick just nodded, unable to form more words around the smile threatening to split his cheeks.
Jason was gonna be okay.
Pages Navigation
statuesquue on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 12:09AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 10:35PM UTC
Comment Actions
Venus_Flytrap_789 on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 12:16AM UTC
Comment Actions
Isonian on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 12:29AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 10:36PM UTC
Comment Actions
MCUsic_to_my_ears on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 01:23AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 10:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
MCUsic_to_my_ears on Chapter 1 Fri 25 Jul 2025 01:24PM UTC
Comment Actions
oper_1895 on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 01:23AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 10:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
chronoshifter on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 02:00AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 10:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
compassrose (hoomanbean12) on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 02:27AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 10:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
Poettheythem on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 03:20AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 11:05PM UTC
Comment Actions
caramelapples101 on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 03:55AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 11:08PM UTC
Comment Actions
wiggly_weevil on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 06:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 11:08PM UTC
Comment Actions
Mindoodles on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 06:43AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 11:09PM UTC
Comment Actions
OrangeCatSupremacy on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 08:31AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 11:10PM UTC
Comment Actions
Crayon on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 12:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 11:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
disneybookprincess on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 07:31PM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 11:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
Ireallylovetoread on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 08:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 23 Jul 2025 11:17PM UTC
Comment Actions
LadyNightlight on Chapter 1 Thu 24 Jul 2025 07:45AM UTC
Comment Actions
Himynameis4 on Chapter 1 Thu 24 Jul 2025 10:36AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Tue 29 Jul 2025 10:57PM UTC
Comment Actions
UglyDucklingAndri on Chapter 1 Thu 24 Jul 2025 11:54AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Tue 29 Jul 2025 10:57PM UTC
Comment Actions
lMarial on Chapter 1 Fri 25 Jul 2025 04:12AM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Tue 29 Jul 2025 10:58PM UTC
Comment Actions
thepinkcallalily on Chapter 1 Mon 28 Jul 2025 06:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
WakingNightmares on Chapter 1 Wed 30 Jul 2025 12:25AM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation