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Tim was tired of hearing that he and Jason hadn’t had “the best start”. He knew that. Jason knew that.
Jason was still Tim’s favourite brother.
(Anyone who told Dick that would find out why Ra’s Al Ghul was afraid of Tim Drake.)
Tim had had the privilege of choosing his family, and he chose Jason, and no one had any say in it, least of all Jason himself. Especially when he was in one of his guilty phases.
The way Tim saw it, and the way Jason should be seeing it, he thought, with such violence that Jason must have picked up on it, was that it was Tim’s choice. Tim chose to forgive him. He knew better than anyone that Jason had been influenced by the Lazarus Pit. Yes, Jason had hurt him. But Jason had made a herculean effort to get better, to be better.
Jason hadn’t hurt Tim in years. He was one of his rocks, his best friends, his brothers. He made him laugh, he caught him when he fell, he made him food – Tim would die for him in a heartbeat. And he would die for his strawberry pavlova in two heartbeats, maybe.
Jason was and always would be Tim’s hero, and now he was his brother. His self-deprecating, irritating, moronic older brother. Who needed to stop apologising. They’d been over this.
Tim had thought Jason was going to be making raspberry and white chocolate muffins. Jason was instead making Tim rather annoyed.
The whole conversation had started out with the classic and universally hated “We need to talk.” from Jason. They were now halfway through and it had only gotten worse from there.
‘–and I never properly apologised to you, Tim, and you deserve that from me at least -’
‘Damn,’ Tim said, nodding in a falsely impressed manner, ‘you used my name and everything. Is that the first time? You usually go for Timmy, or Timbo, or Replacement–’
‘And that’s the problem!’ Jason half-shouted, almost hysterically. Furiously. ‘You let me do that! I let you let me do that!’
Tim was a little shocked at the way Jason had responded to his teasing tone. But Jason was upset, and it was only right to meet Jason’s anguished words with serious ones of his own.
‘I won’t pretend that “Replacement” didn’t hurt. Doesn’t hurt. Occasionally, I’m reminded of what you used to mean, but it doesn’t hurt like it used to. Because that’s how you show affection. I never hear you call Dick by his name, either. Or Damian. It’s always Big Wing, or Dickhead, or demon brat. Those aren’t names filled with hate.’
Dumbstruck for a moment, Jason looked at Tim like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Tim tried not to let any of his pride show on his face. He’d managed to get through to him. Obviously, he wasn’t as bad as he’d thought at putting emotions into words.
This moment of pride was shattered instantly by Jason’s startled laugh. ‘Aren’t you a genius, Tim? I thought that geniuses were meant to be intelligent?’
Tim set his jaw in something that did not even remotely resemble a pout.
Jason carried on. ‘Neither of those names are something I called the other person before I attempted to murder them.’
Tim flinched. That was not something he liked to be reminded of, even if Jason hadn’t been all Jason at the time. He kicked himself mentally when he saw Jason’s expression.
‘See! You don’t like it either!’ Jason made a harsh laughing noise that might have been a sob, in another universe. ‘I knew I was a shitty person, Tim, but god, even I thought I was better than that. I’m pathetic.’
Tim gritted his teeth, planted his feet, and carved on his face the expression that left criminals frozen in their tracks. They were doing this, were they?
‘I was terrified of you, Jason. For months. Especially after Titans Tower. I started to prepare myself to die. I won’t lie to you and say that I wasn’t – you deserve better than that from me, just as I deserved better than to be attacked by you. To nearly die because of you.’
Jason looked sick, his skin an awful shade of grey. Tim pressed on.
‘But you weren’t you, then. You’d been dumped in the pit and wound up by Talia and let loose at the nearest convenient target like a rabid dog. Don’t you dare,’ Tim said, voice tight with fury, ‘insult my intelligence by implying that it was all your fault when we both know it wasn’t. It was scary, and it was awful, and painful, and it gave me nightmares. I’ve come far enough mentally and emotionally to admit I was a good Robin, but I couldn’t have beaten you then. If you’d wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Am I dead, Jason?’
Jason was frozen in place. Again, Tim carried on brutally.
‘But you know what affected me the most, after then? You’re right, it was the whole “Replacement” thing. There was no one in this world I had admired and loved more than you – you were my Robin, Jason, my hero. Your death changed me as a person and I didn’t even know you then. In my eyes, I’d never be as good as you. I didn’t even want to be. All I could be was a cheap replacement. I’d just started to believe that less, and then I heard it from Robin himself.’
Tim was starting to think this wasn’t a good idea when he saw the stricken look on Jason’s face. No. He’d finish what he’d started.
‘It might have broken me, if not for the Titans. If not for how happy I was that you were alive.’
‘Tim–’ Jason began, crushed. Tim stopped him. Crushing Jason was not what he was trying to do. He had a point to make.
‘And then, Jay, you were my brother. I was the Replacement, the Pretender, but I was also Timmy and Timbo and Timmers and whatever other monstrosity you’d come up with. You joked with me, you laughed with me, you patrolled with me – you helped me dye Bruce’s hair blue, and you were so proud when I showed you the photos of him getting angry in front of the mirror. Robin!’ Tim laughed, truly happy at the memory. ‘Robin, proud of me! You were so excited when we’d see each other and you had some other ridiculous variant of my name to call me by. And when you called me Replacement, I was always weirdly proud around the hurt, since that name was just for me.’
Tim grinned. ‘Hell, I can’t ask for a replacement battery for my Xbox controller without thinking of you. It doesn’t even feel like a word anymore.’
Jason still looked vaguely ill, but was leaning more towards shock, now. And maybe happiness. Tim couldn’t tell.
‘You’re so stupid, Jason. You still think you’re a terrible person? You baked me seventeen different kinds of cookies for my seventeenth birthday. You lied to my face,’ Tim said, giggling slightly, ‘and said you were on a mission with Roy and Kori when really you flew all the way to Japan to get a special kind of coffee for me that they don’t sell online and don’t ship outside the country. Yeah, I knew about that.’ Tim added, when Jason smiled minutely, embarrassed. Better than before, Tim thought.
Tim squeezed one of Jason’s broad shoulders forcefully. ‘Jason. No one gets to insult one of my siblings. Not even the sibling in question.’ The grin that had once made a grown man urinate himself slid onto Tim’s face like a glimmering blade. ‘Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, you are my favourite brother. I don’t want to hear this from you. I want to move on, and enjoy life with our enormous, insane, amazing family. I forgave you years ago.’
Tim pulled him into a hug, and, awkward as he was, Tim thought he’d managed to make it a good one. He’d channelled Dick’s octopus arms as best as he could. ‘And don’t let the favourite brother thing go to your head.’
Tim bounced away. ‘Now, where are my muffins? I want extra raspberries to make up for having to talk about emotions.’
Jason, shellshocked but regaining himself rapidly, wiped a hand down his face. ‘I– thank you. I… I didn’t know. But,’ he went on, as Tim rolled his eyes, ‘that’s not the point, Timmy. You’re too kind, and as much as that’s a good thing, it’s a terrible thing as well - especially when it comes to you. You forgive too much.’
‘It’s my decision’ –Tim interjected– ‘whether I want to forgive people or not. That decision has been made. End of discussion.’
‘There are some things that you should still be angry about, should never have forgiven people for.’ Jason said, nearly pleadingly.
‘You think I wasn’t angry?’ Tim said, voice dangerous again. It wasn’t a question.
‘I think you were, for a while, but only fleetingly. I think I scared you. Scarred you.’
Tim had nothing to say to that, because Jason was right. But Jason was also wrong. Because he thought that Tim was still scared, scarred, haunted. That was so far from the truth these days it was laughable.
‘I forgave you, Jason. I forgive you. I don’t want to think about the past. I actually just want muffins. Or something savoury, I’m thinking the moment for muffins has past, you really don’t seem in the mood to be making any right now–’
Jason laughed at his rambling, ruffling Tim’s hair aggressively. Then the joy disappeared almost as soon as it had come.
‘Doesn’t matter if you forgive me, baby bird, because I won’t ever forgive myself.’
He ran his hand through his hair, clutching desperately at the strands like the pain of it would make talking easier, the white streak in his hair more prevalent than ever from where it was coiled in his fist. ‘But I’m so glad you do. You shouldn’t, but you do, and I will be grateful for it until the day I die. And if I claw my way out of another grave, I will be grateful then as well.’
He took one long, steadying breath, clenched his teeth hard enough to crack, and cleared his throat. ‘Anyway. You want ketchup or mustard?’
‘What?’ Tim said, bewilderment still paling in comparison to the warm feeling in his chest at Jason’s words.
‘We’re getting hot dogs now. I’m paying. I need a way to avoid my emotions for a while. Ketchup or mustard?’
‘Ketchup.’
‘Good choice.’
*
‘Hey!’ Nightwing pouted. ‘You got food without me?’
‘Yep.’ Red Hood said satisfiedly, nearly finished with his hot dog, chili dog in the other hand. He jabbed a thumb back towards Red Robin, who had somehow clipped a muffin to his bandoliers and was slurping a milkshake. ‘It’s kind of a favourite brother thing, you know, getting food at–’ Hood checked his phone ‘–2:14am on a Tuesday morning. Everyone knows that.’
Nightwing gasped, offended, and turned on Red Robin.
‘Hood?’ Red Robin said, smiling pleasantly.
‘What is it, O light of my life, sibling mine, feared vigilante of the night?’
‘Run.’
Red Hood wisely took his advice, Red Robin and Nightwing streaking after him for entirely different reasons.
As a hearty and resounding scream of ‘Fuck!’ echoed over Gotham, Batman covered Robin’s ears, not quite able to hide his smile.
