Chapter Text
1. Jason
There have been many times in Jason Todd’s life when he questioned all his life choices. Like the time he was bleeding out in a warehouse, watching a timer tick down, unable to reach it on time. Or the time he woke up in his own grave and had to claw his way back to the surface, earth filling eyes and nose and mouth. Or the time he came down from the high of the Lazarus pit and found he had been adopted by an assassin cult. But this? This is an entirely new kind of low.
The new Robin was supposed to be alone. This was meant to be an ambush, a time to strike when the boy was least expecting it, a chance to prove a point to Bruce that no child should be shoved into a leotard and sent out to fight crime.
But Robin isn’t alone. His little spiky-haired friend is here, the speedy one, sitting on the couch with Tim, taking up all his personal space. They’re having what Jason can only describe as A Moment.
“I’m so sorry, Rob,” he hears the red-headed boy say. He’s got his back to where Jason is crouched, hidden in the shadows of the hallway. Jason can’t see his face, but he has the perfect view of Tim’s, maskless in the perceived safety of the tower. If only he knew. If only he had the tiniest inkling of what Jason has planned for him, for the helpless little birdie without a Bat to protect him.
Except.
“I know, Bart,” Tim sighs. “But that was my work laptop. Do you know how many hours I spent modifying that thing?”
“I know,” the boy’s voice wobbles. He leans in even closer to Tim, who is seated with his back to the arm of the couch. Tim doesn’t flinch at the proximity of the other boy, only a few inches from his face. “And I would pay you for it, except I can’t, and if Max finds out he’s gonna kill me, and I really really really don’t want you to hate me, Rob, ‘cause I love you and you’re so cool and—eep!”
Jason blinks several times in quick succession.
“Don’t say that,” Tim says seriously, his hands smacked onto either side of Bart’s face.
“That I love you?”
“No, dummy. That you think I’ll hate you. I could never hate you.”
This is wrong. This is so, so, so very wrong. Jason was supposed to be beating the kid up by now! Not watching—whatever the heck this is supposed to be.
And, well, maybe he should’ve thought more about the whole costume under the costume thing. Maybe the Robin suit was overkill. It didn’t seem like it at the time, but now he’s got bright yellow tights riding up in uncomfortable places, and he’s sweating under all the layers, and he’s thinking a little bit longingly about the time after the explosion and before waking up in his own grave. The Quiet Time.
“Even if I, like, murdered someone you love?” Bart asks hopefully.
“If you did that, I would assume you were brainwashed and do everything I could to prove your innocence.”
“Really?”
Tim nods, without a hint of anything but honesty. Jason feels his heart pinch oddly in his chest. “Really. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my guy, Bart. Always and forever.”
“For realsies?”
“For realsies.”
Jason has had enough. If he hears any more of this, he’s going to throw up, or start crying, or something else equally ridiculous. Who cares if the little pretender seemingly has more of a heart than dumb old Bruce ever has? Who cares if the kid cares more about his friend than he does literal murder? It’s not like he’s the one that needs the lesson, anyway.
He gathers his pride, stretches up to his full height, and saunters into the room.
“Well isn’t this just adorable,” Jason sneers, voice made darker by the modulator in his helmet. There’s a bit of gasping, and shuffling, and a blur of light before Bart comes back into view. He’s now facing Jason, his body fully shielding Tim’s.
“Hood,” Tim says, icy voice a stark contrast to the softer tones he had used with Bart.
“How’d you get in here?” Bart demands.
“I have my ways,” Hood says casually, stopping at the other end of the couch. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head to the side, watching them in a way he knows most people find to be incredibly unnerving. As far as he can tell from the sliver of his face peeking out from behind Bart, Tim is entirely unfazed. “Had to pay a visit to a little birdie.”
Bart puffs up, spreading his arms as wide as he can to cover his friend. “You can’t have him.”
Before Jason can snap back, Tim chimes in, lifting his chin to peer over Bart’s shoulder. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Oh?” Jason tilts his head up, expressing the raise of an eyebrow even with the full helmet on. “And why’s that?”
The kid has the audacity to smirk. “Because one time I saw you practice a whole conversation with a brick wall before an encounter with Two-Face.”
Jason feels the blood drain from his face. That moment had been private. He was fourteen at the time, and even though Dickie was embarrassing as hell, he had been a little bit of envious of how the older boy always had a quick comeback. So what if he decided to do some practicing before a big fight? He hadn’t wanted to sound like an idiot.
“How do you know about that?” he practically growls.
“Because I enjoy stalking people, obviously.”
“It’s one of his many talents,” Bart adds, even as he continues to shoot the nastiest glare he can manage in Jason’s direction. Kid probably thinks he’s scary; Jason thinks he gives off the threat level of a snarling puppy.
“Why are you even here?” Jason snaps. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a mission?”
“Ca—Wondergirl made me stay back because I broke Rob’s laptop,” the little brat pouts. “And it’s a good thing she did, because now I’ve gotta beat you up.”
“Bart—”
“No!” The boy twists his head to make too-close eye contact with Tim. “You’re my guy, too. I won’t let him hurt you.”
“Oh my god,” Jason mutters. He wishes he could pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Anyway,” Bart continues, “lay a finger on him and I’ll pick you up and dump you in the Nile river.”
“You couldn’t pick me up.”
“You don’t know a fraction of what I could do.”
“Okay, enough,” Tim commands. Bart’s mouth snaps shut. “If you’ve gotta dump him in a body of water, at least pick somewhere he doesn’t need a passport to get back from. Lake Michigan, or something.”
Bart shakes his head. “You’re too nice.”
“It’s only Jason.”
Jason’s hands reach for his holsters, patience growing thinner by the second. “What makes you so sure you know who I am?”
The kid rolls his eyes. “You’ve been leaving hints for weeks. B’s too stubborn to admit it, but we both know it’s you.” Something softens in his expression, a sadness clouding his eyes. “Look. I don’t know how you’re here right now, but I know that B was a mess when you…” He trails off, averting his eyes. “He was a mess, okay? And he would love to have you back.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Jason stomps forward until he’s towering over them, rage pulsing through his body like a storm. The boys push back into the corner of the couch. One hidden, but unafraid. One terrified, but refusing to budge. “If he really cared about me, then he would have taken out the monster who took me away.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” Tim says. “It would have killed him, too.”
Jason scoffs. “You don’t know that.”
“Don’t tell me what I know,” Tim says fiercely, pushing up behind Bart to send the full force of his scowl Jason’s way. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see the broken bodies he left behind. You didn’t see him out there, night after night.” He shakes his head, body trembling. Jason isn’t sure if it’s from anger, or from the memories. “I swear he was trying to get himself killed. He probably would have, if I hadn’t forced my way into the suit.”
“You what?” Jason whispers, but Tim doesn’t seem to hear.
“You know he used to call me Jason sometimes?” the kid continues, as if he isn’t shaking the very foundations of Jason’s second life. “That’s how messed up he was. Couldn’t even remember what kid he had with him. So don’t you dare tell me what I do and don’t know.”
Jason’s chest is caving in. It’s splitting down the middle and collapsing in on itself, snapping his ribs and crushing his lungs and—
“You never told me about that,” Bart whispers, watery eyes turned toward his friend.
Tim sucks in a breath; Jason follows the rise and fall of his shoulders, attempts to follow suit. The hidden boy speaks to Bart’s shoulder, his bravado slipping away. “I don’t like talking about it.”
Jason manages a full breath. He stares down at the smaller boys, curled up tight in the corner of the couch. Hiding from him. He realizes with a start that these are just kids. He could wrap his fingers all the way around the dainty wrist extended to protect. He could snap these fragile bones. He could hurt them in the same way that he was hurt when he was just as small.
And then he would be just like him. Hurting a child to get the attention of the Bat. Ruining lives to prove a point to a man that’s never going to change. Or at least, never in the ways that Jason wants him to.
So he mourned Jason. So what? He still didn’t learn his damn lesson. He still let some other kid put on the suit. Instead of dealing with his own mess, it sounds a hell of a lot like he made Tim clean it up for him.
Well screw him. And screw whatever idiot’s letting this other kid run around in tights, too. They can be irresponsible guardians all day long, but Jason will be damned if he stands by and watches it happen.
Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. He’ll prove his point to Bruce all along. The tension drains from his shoulders. He reaches up, pulls his helmet off, and grins.
“What just happened?” Bart whispers.
“I have no idea,” Tim whispers back. For the first time, there is something akin to fear in the little bird’s eyes.
Good. He should be scared.
2. Tim
Jason Todd is making spaghetti in the Titans Tower kitchen. Tim has been watching it happen for the past ten minutes, but it still hasn’t quite sunk in. Bart is perched next to him on the couch, both of them peering over the back of it to watch the crime lord while also remaining somewhat protected. Tim doesn’t think Jason is going to suddenly whip out one of his many guns and start shooting, but after the whole bag of heads thing, you never really know.
“I didn’t even know we had stuff for spaghetti,” Bart says quietly. It seems Jason has good hearing, though, because he scoffs at the remark.
“Apparently you brats never open up the pantry.” He stirs something in a pot with a wooden spoon. Tim’s pretty sure that’s the sauce. “It’s full of nonperishables. Dusty, but still good.”
Bart looks at Tim with wide eyes, as if to say what the heck? Tim shakes his head and shrugs.
When the Red Hood first made his appearance, interrupting Tim and Bart’s conversation, Tim had tried pressing his panic button. Turns out Jason had blocked all communication to and from the tower. Luckily, things have yet to turn to violence. Tim meant it when he said he wasn’t scared of Jason. That doesn’t mean he isn’t aware of the potential threat.
If necessary, Bart could run them out in less than a second. If the exits are blocked somehow, he could at least run Tim to his room so he could suit up to face Jason properly. Or distract Jason so Tim could override his communication blocks and they could contact others to help. Tim is hoping there won’t be cause for any of that.
Still, the guy’s standing there, helmet discarded on the counter, face partially concealed by a domino mask that looks suspiciously like the kind he wore as Robin, making spaghetti. Weird. It gets even weirder when he starts humming to himself while he pours the pasta into a colander. What even is Tim’s life?
He knows Jason has always liked cooking; Alfie’s mentioned it offhand a few different times. He also knows, based on comments the Red Hood has made over the past several weeks, that he doesn’t think Tim should be Robin. What he does’t understand is how those things have brought them to this particular situation.
Bruce has been growing increasingly anxious about Hood attempting an attack on Tim, hence him being banished to Titans Tower for the weekend. Hood must have been waiting for something like this to happen so he could face Tim alone. Bart was simply an unexpected variable. Cassie was right in making him stay back, though. If he had gone out as he was, angry with himself and fearing Tim was going to hate him forever, he wouldn’t have been reliable on the field. So, barring the addition of Bart, it was the perfect setup for an ambush.
But why the spaghetti?
Something had shifted in Jason’s posture when he stood over the two of them. He came to some sort of decision, but Tim cannot even begin to fathom what that might have been. One second he was furious and the next second he was—hungry? Thought to himself, I’ll wait and beat these guys up after a nice meal?
“Dinner’s ready,” Jason declares, interrupting his train of thought. Tim and Bart look at each other with wide eyes. “Get your scrawny butts over here!” They scramble their way over to the dining table. Jason sits at the head, with two places set to his left. Bart takes the seat closest to Jason and stares warily down at the full plate of spaghetti before him.
“How do we know this isn’t poisoned?” Bart asks.
Jason rolls his eyes. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Tim does—Jason’s too big a fan of drama to choose poison of all things— but he’s not about to side with Jason over Bart, so he keeps his mouth shut.
“Fine,” Jason snaps. He reaches out with his fork, scoops up some spaghetti from Bart’s plate, and shoves it into his mouth. “Happy?” he says with his mouth still full.
Bart frowns. “And how do we know you haven’t spent the past few years building up an immunity to iocane powder?”
Jason blinks several times. Finishes chewing and swallows. Asks, “Do people still watch that in the future?”
“‘Course not,” Bart says. “Rob showed me.”
Tim shrugs when Jason looks his way. “Dick showed me.”
“Of course he did.”
Tim nudges Bart with his elbow. “I think it’s safe.” Bart shoots one last suspicious look Jason’s way, then digs in. Tim follows suit.
They spend the next several minutes eating quietly. Meanwhile, Tim’s brain is running faster than Bart when he’s hyped up on caffeine.
What is Jason planning on doing next? Is the peace and quiet real, or only meant to lure them into a sense of safety? Is he over there imagining Tim and Bart’s guts on the floor like splattered spaghetti? Is that why he chose spaghetti? Is this foreshadowing?
Or what if Tim actually got through to him? What if he’s changed his mind, and he wants to come home? Tim would give Robin up, of course, it’s not like it was meant to be permanent anyway. But what would that mean for his place on the Titans? Will he ever get to see his friends again? Will they want to be his friend anymore if he isn’t a vigilante? They’re all still friends with Greta and Cissie and Anita, but it’s not like they see each other very often.
And does Bruce know about the communication being cut off? Does anyone? It’s been at least an hour now, surely someone has noticed. If they can stall Jason long enough, then someone will show up and he won’t even have a chance to try and hurt them. But does he want that? This might be his one and only chance to talk to the Jason Todd; should he give that up so easily? Should he start asking questions? Like how did he come back to life? How long has he been living? Did he ever really die, or was it all some elaborate ruse?
“You’re gonna make your brain explode, little birdie.”
Tim starts. At some point he had finished his meal and began staring off into the distance.
Jason pushes his plate forward, setting his elbows on the table in front of him. “Look, kid. I’m not about to lie to you. I showed up planning to beat the hell out of you. Kids don’t belong out in the field, and the Bat needs to wake up to that reality.” Tim feels Bart grab his wrist under the table, ready to scoop him up and run them to safety if necessary. “That hasn’t changed. But…”
“But?” Bart prompts, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm against the inside of Tim’s wrist.
“But…” He leans forward, staring Tim down with a creepy smile curling the edges of his lips. “I’m willing to make a deal.”
Tim has the oddest feeling that he might have preferred the beating.