Chapter Text
I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I’m not enough
Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up
- You Say, Lauren Daigle
Tim was terrified. There was no denying it. He stood in front of Jason’s apartment door, shivering and soaked to the bone, clutching his school bag. Jason was not going to be happy once he opened the door and saw him there – Tim knew that. But this was his only option.
There was no way he could go to the manor. Tim couldn’t face Bruce like this. Nor could he go to Dick. Well, theoretically, he could, but not in reality. Dick had been gushing for weeks about how he was going to watch a specific movie with Wally. If Tim showed up, his big brother would instantly discard all his plans, and Tim didn’t want that.
So instead, he found himself rooted to the spot, too scared to knock on his other big brother’s door. He really didn’t know where else to go if Jason didn’t let him in.
Sighing to himself, Tim shakily lifted his hand to knock. It was now or never. Fingers crossed Jason would let him in. If Jason didn’t, well then, Tim was royally screwed. After knocking, he waited. And waited. With his heartbeat speeding up every second Jason didn’t open, Tim felt the panic steadily rising in him. The moment the apartment door swung open, Tim let out a quiet sob.
“Who’s th- Oh, it’s you.” Jason raised an eyebrow as he spotted Tim on the other side of the door. “The fuck are you doing here?”
Tim wanted to answer. He really did. But his mouth just wouldn’t move, and tears kept rolling down his cheeks. He would’ve been absolutely mortified if he wasn’t feeling so overwhelmed.
Jason’s eyes narrowed as he noticed Tim’s school uniform and the way he clutched his backpack like a lifeline. Muttering to himself, Jason shook his head before grabbing Tim by the shoulder, causing him to flinch. “For fuck’s sake, Replacem- Tim, I’m not going to hurt you. Not if you just get inside without making a scene.”
As soon as Tim’s mind processed his brother’s words through his panic, he quickly shuffled inside so Jason couldn’t change his mind.
Once the door clicked shut behind Jason, Tim turned around, his eyes wide as plates. He really hadn’t thought this through enough. What was going to happen now? Jason wouldn’t hurt him—Tim wanted to believe that with all his might.
Fuck, this was stupid and idiotic. He was a Drake, for fuck’s sake. He should know better.
Before Jason could even utter a word, Tim was already pushing his way past him toward the door again. He had to get out, now.
“Woah, what are you doing, Timbit?” Jason asked, confused, as Tim frantically tried to twist the door open with shaky hands. But it wasn’t working. He just couldn’t get the door to open. Once more, he had failed. He was a failure.
In his sheer panic, Tim didn’t register the gentle pair of hands prying him from the door and leading him to an old, worn leather couch. His backpack had been set down next to the coffee table, and someone was crouched in front of him, holding his hands and rubbing their thumbs over his palms in soothing circles.
“-llo? -immy? Are you back with me?”
Tim squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on the voice coaxing him back to the surface. Slowly but steadily, he felt his heartbeat calm down.
“There we go. Good job, Timtam.” The voice rumbled, causing Tim to smile at the praise.
When he opened his eyes, Tim saw the person – Jason – crouched in front of him more clearly now. His eyes flicked to the door before returning to Jason and his current predicament. Shit, this really happened. How could this have happened? He should’ve known better. Why was he so damn incompetent? A failure. Why did he have to have a panic attack right in front of Jason, of all people?
“Tim, you have to calm down. Deep breaths, remember?” Jason instructed, unfazed. “Let’s not rush into a second panic attack.”
When Jason deemed Tim calm enough, he stood up and went over to the little kitchen before returning seconds later with two mugs of steaming hot tea.
“You’re lucky I had just put on some water before you knocked. And no, don’t even think about asking for coffee. You need to calm down, and coffee won’t do that.” He pressed a mug into Tim’s hands before sitting down in the armchair beside the couch.
The silence was deafening as neither of them said a word. Tim mentally prepared himself for the inevitable interrogation and ridicule he would face. No way Jason wouldn’t tell someone about this. Even though he and Bruce weren’t too close, Jason did try to spend his weekends at the manor to mend broken relationships.
Ultimately, it was Tim who broke the silence. He just couldn’t take it anymore and muttered a quiet, “Sorry.” His eyes were glued to the mug in his hands. Based on the smell, Jason had made some kind of herbal tea, though Tim was too exhausted to try and guess which.
“Don’t apologize, kid. I’d rather you tell me what had you so worked up,” Jason said in a surprisingly calming voice.
Tim looked down at his drenched school uniform and his bag, which was just as wet from the rain. Now that his panic had subsided, he felt stupid for freaking out this much. He shouldn’t have inconvenienced Jason like a big baby. He should have just gone home with Alfred and accepted whatever punishment B would dish out. Fuck, he was so stupid.
“I- I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll leave,” Tim muttered, setting down the mug and shaking his head. Yeah, this was for the best.
“Like hell you are going to leave, Baby Bird. Sit the fuck back down and drink your tea.”
With wide eyes, Tim froze. Shit, he’d pissed off Jason too now.
“Timbit, sit down, please,” Jason’s exasperated voice reached his ears.
Taking a deep breath, Tim sat back down. His mouth felt drier than the Sahara desert. With shaky hands, he picked up the mug again and took a tiny sip before setting it back down. Tim was very aware of Jason’s eyes following his every movement like a hawk.
“I messed up, really badly. B is going to be so angry,” Tim admitted timidly.
Jason’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Tim watched as his brother tilted his head in intrigue.
“Tell me, kid, what could you have done at school that would piss Bruce off? Did you beat some asshole up? Burn down the school’s lab? Kiss your teacher for extra credit?” Jason asked, a sly smile on his face.
Tim almost choked on his spit at the last suggestion. “What? No!” He shook his head in disbelief and disgust. “I did none of those things! What the fuck, Jason.”
Jason just relaxed into his armchair with a grin and shrugged. “Then whatever you did can’t be bad enough to piss off the Bat.”
Biting his lip, Tim reached for his backpack and pulled it toward himself, opening it to retrieve a slightly crumpled piece of paper. Without saying a word, he handed it to Jason.
Jason took the paper with a raised eyebrow, confusion written clearly across his face.
“Tim, what exactly am I looking at?”
“My English lit essay,” Tim mumbled, casting his eyes to the floor.
Jason hummed. “The Picture of Dorian Gray, huh? Pretty good book, if you ask me. You scored a B-. That’s decent.”
Jason looked up again, just in time to see Tim pulling at his hair.
“Woah, woah! Don’t hurt yourself, kid. What’s the fucking issue?”
“I- Bruce is going to be so mad. I should’ve done better,” Tim bit out.
Jason was visibly taken aback, speechless for a moment. Tim couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze. Now he had made it even worse.
“Baby Bird, why do you think Bruce will be mad?”
“Well,” Tim fidgeted with his hands, actively trying to make himself seem as small as possible, “I should’ve done better. I shouldn’t be getting Bs. I need to show him that I deserve to be Robin.” A lone tear made its way down his cheek when he finished speaking. As he looked up from the floor again, Tim saw Jason’s expression soften.
“Oh, Tim…” Jason sighed almost pityingly. He shook his head before laying the essay on the coffee table. “If you don’t mind me asking, what would your parents have said about your grade?” Jason asked with a neutral look.
“I- Well- They wouldn’t have been happy. I’m a Drake. I can’t allow myself to score anything but As,” Tim replied, furrowing his brow.
“Tim, Bruce doesn’t think like that. What your parents told you is beyond fucked up. Bruce doesn’t give a flying fuck if you score a C or an A as long as you tried your best,” Jason calmly explained.
Tim felt the gears in his brain turning. B wasn’t going to be angry? He wasn’t going to take Robin away because Tim was too stupid to interpret a novel?
Apparently, he had said the last part out loud because his brother suddenly let out a loud laugh before smiling faintly at him. “Bruce is definitely going to let you keep Robin, Baby Bird. And you aren’t stupid just because you didn’t top your class one time. Hell, I constantly scored Bs and Cs, sometimes even Ds, in subjects that weren’t English lit or PE. Does that mean I’m stupid?”
Spluttering with wide eyes, Tim rushed to tell Jason otherwise. In response, his brother only chuckled before finishing his tea. Once more, he looked at Tim with narrowed eyes before running a hand through his hair.
“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to take a shower and get out of your soaking uniform. I’ll bring you some clothes of mine to wear, and then, I don’t know, we’ll watch a movie or something. That’s what Dickhead would do. I’ll make us some food, and after dinner, I’ll bring you back to the manor where we’ll have a talk with Bruce.”
“Wha-” Tim began, alarmed at the mention of a talk with Bruce.
“Shush, Timtam. We’re just going to tell him about the crap your parents fed you so that you don’t panic the next time something like this happens. Your value isn’t connected to your academic achievements.”
That actually sounded like a well-thought-out plan, Tim had to admit. Nodding wordlessly, he let Jason help him up and usher him to the bathroom with a stack of freshly washed clothes.
As a now-showered Tim settled next to his brother on the couch, he felt exhausted. Before the movie they were watching even hit its halfway mark, Tim was fast asleep with his head resting on Jason’s shoulder and his brother’s arm slung around him, pulling him close and protecting him from the world.
Jason had not envisioned his afternoon going like this at all. Originally, he’d been looking forward to curling up on the couch with one of the new books he’d purchased. But then his Replacement had shown up at his door shivering and crying, making it very fucking hard for Jason not to cave in.
Rolling his shoulders, he finished dicing the onions and washed his hands before throwing a quick look at Tim, who was still peacefully asleep, curled up on the couch clutching the blanket Jason had draped over him.
With an exasperated shake of his head, Jason turned back to the stove and started pouring olive oil into the pan. He was definitely growing too soft for this fucking brat. Stupid bats.
Not even Jason himself could deny the fond smile that appeared on his face later that day when Tim’s eyes widened at the delicious taste of his pasta.