Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason sat outside of the manor, close to the water’s edge. It was a peaceful night with the waves gently lapping the pristine portion of Bristol’s beach. There were few places in Gotham that were completely untouched by the pollution and corruption of the city, but this patch of land was one of them. He would miss it when he left, so he was taking the time to see it one more time.

A backpack sat at his side with some of his most treasured belongings as well as the bare essentials. Jason had researched Ethiopia while he was planning for the trip, but he wanted to be prepared for anything. He was excited to meet his birth mother. She sort of looked like Jason, and he certainly had her blue eyes. Maybe he would get a third shot at having a good family. Third times the charm right?

Bruce was convinced Jason had pushed Garzonas off of that balcony; he hadn’t. The man had stumbled to get away from Robin and had plunged over the side of the metal structure. Jason wouldn’t have been able to save him from that even if he had wanted to. The thing was, Jason hadn’t been saddened by the man’s death; he was a piece of scum who deserved what he got. He wouldn’t stand there and pretend that he cared about the man’s death. Was that wrong of him?

It had been a question that plagued him ever since the accident. Growing up in Crime Alley, Jason had seen people like Garzonas get away with shit just because they could. It had been a daily aspect of his life for his entire childhood before he tried to lift the Batmobile tires. It had always made him so angry. Jason had always been powerless to stop the criminals who preyed on everyone weaker than they were. Then he had become Robin, and suddenly Jason could do some real, tangible good for those who grew up like he did.

So no, Jason wasn’t sorry that the man was dead; but that didn’t mean he murdered him either. It was clear that Bruce didn’t trust him despite the fact that he had saved the man’s life. Hell, the man had been telling him how proud he was of Jason not a week before Garzonas died. How could Bruce go from one extreme to the next in such a short time? Jason had lived with Bruce for three years and had been Robin for most of that time. Had the man ever truly loved him?

Jason looked down at the old watch that he had in his hands. It had been Thomas Wayne’s at one point. Months ago Jason had given it back to Bruce when he had repaired the gift for his birthday—well partially fixed anyway. The man had given it back to him so he could keep working on it at Jason’s request. Now it just sat in his hands as a reminder of what he’d never have again. Hurt and anger bubbled through him as he leaned back and threw the watch as far into the water as he was able to. In a months time, everyone will have forgotten about Jason and his stupid birthday gift idea.

Wiping away the traitorous tears from his cheek, he forced himself to his feet and slung the backpack over his shoulder. Just as he was about to turn away from the Atlantic something breached the water with uncharacteristic violence. Whatever the creature was, it seemed to be darting towards the shore. Jason ran a few feet back so that he could fight whatever was coming for him. However nice the Bristol beach was, it was still Gotham; a notorious hellmouth for the most deranged creatures. Yeah, he wasn’t going to fuck around with that.

Good thing Jason always kept a large pocket knife clipped to his belt. Snapping it open, he dropped into a defensive position. A yelp sounded through the darkness and the creature thrashed harder, struggling to make it to shore. As it got closer, Jason could see the outline of a tail. It didn’t belong to any type of animal he had ever seen before, but it wasn’t terribly big either. That didn’t mean it couldn’t be a threat though; Jason knew better than to underestimate a potential enemy.

Wait, was that a human arm? What?

Jason shuffled back and away from the shore; the thing was only ten feet away from him when it clawed its way up the beach. It was just a kid! A mop of black hair was offset by sickly pale skin and a burgundy colored tail. Jason crept forward slowly to take a look at the panting figure.

There was blood in the sand.

It was a fair amount considering that the kid had only been on land for thirty seconds. There was a gaping wound that sheared through the red scales. He winced in sympathy. Jason had received many injuries from his time as Robin, and stitches always sucked. It was a really good thing Jason had thought to bring a comprehensive first aid kit.

The boy hadn’t seen him yet, too busy bracing himself against the pain. He was so small it made Jason’s heart clench at the sight. As he was debating on how to start a conversation with the injured mer, the kid decided for him and looked up at the sound of footsteps. A pained whimper tore from the boy’s throat as he tried to crawl away from Jason. Dragging the tail behind him, the boy scratched at the sand desperately. The exhaustion and pain was in every line of the kid’s body; he only managed to move a few feet away before his arms gave out.

“Woah, hey, I’m not going to hurt you, buddy.” Jason realized he was still holding the knife and quickly put it away.

Baby blue eyes stared back at him in distrust and fear. Jason didn’t know if the mer could understand him, let alone if he would allow a stranger near him. Maybe Jason would be better off if he forgot the creature and caught his plane, as it was, he was cutting the time close already, but he just couldn’t. Because once upon a time Jason had needed someone to help him and there had been no one, but that didn’t have to happen to this kid. Kneeling down, Jason pulled the first aid kit from his backpack and showed it to the mer in case he would recognize what it was.

“That looks like it hurts,” Jason said softly, “I can help you.”

“D-don’t take my scales, p-please.”

Jason really hadn’t expected an answer and had steeled himself to go off of body language, but he had been wrong. The kid’s English was clearly unpracticed. Sure, the boy was stuttering in terror, but his inflections were off. Jason didn’t know much about mers, but he had known they existed. It was strange though, he could have sworn they stayed out of colder waters. Maybe he had been wrong? Jason hadn’t thought to research them further because he never thought he would run into one. He was cursing himself internally for his stupidity.

“I would never take your scales. I won’t hurt you, kid.” He held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Will you let me help?”

The boy was trembling—from fear, pain, or the cold Jason couldn’t tell—and he shed his coat and gently draped it over the mer’s torso. As the kid engulfed himself in the material, he met Jason’s eyes with shock and something else he couldn’t identify. Hope, maybe?

Hiding most of his torso and face in Jason’s coat, the mer began to speak. “I…please help me.”

Jason’s hardened heart melted almost immediately at his plea. Where were this boy’s parents? He couldn’t possibly be allowed on his own if he was this small in such dangerous waters.

Gathering the supplies that he would need, Jason hummed an old tune from a different life. He convinced himself that it was just to try and calm the mer down. It definitely wasn’t to help his nerves. Not at all. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the kid and began to explain everything he was doing. Too exhausted to do much else, the boy only nodded in response.

It looked like the wound would need a lot of stitches. Jason didn’t have any anesthetic, but he knew where to find some. He really didn’t want to go back to the cave, but it didn’t seem like there was much of a choice; there was no way he could handle this on his own. Jason looked at his phone. He would miss his flight anyway.

“I’m going to put pressure on the cut so that I can get you somewhere safe, okay?”

The kid’s eyes were sliding shut, not answering his question, and Jason shook his shoulder to wake him. It looked like Jason had less time than he had thought to get the kid safe. Wrapping gauze around the wound, he quickly texted Alfred to prepare the Medbay. He didn’t wait for a response and lifted the boy carefully into his arms. A pained keen tore from his throat as the wound shifted, and the mer buried his head in the juncture of Jason’s neck to stifle any further noise. Jason tensed at first, but then he ran a gentle hand through the boy’s hair, trying to sooth him in any way he could.

How heavy were mers supposed to be? Because Jason had stumbled a few steps before he righted himself and started walking; the kid weighed practically nothing. Something to research later, to be sure.

For now, Jason needed to prepare himself to face the Batman for the first time in days.

Chapter Text

So Tim had messed up. He knew it from the moment that shark had bitten him, but really he probably should have guessed that earlier. Tim was by no means from Gotham, but his parents had made it clear that he wasn’t allowed to go back to them until he could hunt on his own, or bring back something valuable. A shiver had run up his spine when they threatened to sell his scales to the inlanders. So he set out to prove he could be useful. Unfortunately, a storm had washed him all the way up to New Jersey, right into one of the most dangerous cities in the world. Let it never be said that the universe gave Tim a break every once in a while.

He couldn’t really track how long he had been in Gotham for, but it had been a few months at this point. The likelihood of him finding something valuable for his parents, or even learning to hunt bigger prey, were slim to none. Despite Gotham having a host of sea creatures in the bay, none of them were other mers which made it both safer, and more dangerous, for Tim. He wasn’t strong or big like Kon, or quick like Bart, but he was agile and clever. Those talents had saved him many times in the last year, but it didn't this time. Tim had allowed himself to get distracted and had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. A rookie mistake.

The older boy on the beach had seemed so sad as he sat alone by the shore. In his time in Gotham, Tim had very rarely happened across anyone who seemed to feel anything but anger and spite. There had been a red-headed woman, an inlander, who had fallen into the harbor when Tim had gone in search of food one day. She seemed frightened of the water as two men had pushed her in with metal chains tied around her feet. His parents had warned him to stay away from humans, but she had seemed so afraid. So he had used all of his strength that night to bring her ashore; the woman had been heavy, the chains even heavier, but he managed. By the time the woman was done coughing up liquid from her lungs, Tim had submerged himself in the water and out of sight.

Tim had watched her for a while, making sure she didn’t need any more help, when a strange looking inlander with pointed ears and a low growling voice had found her. There had been another strange looking person, much smaller and wearing bright colors, who stood beside the man. Where the tall, growling inlander seemed rather scary, the smaller one appeared softer in a strange way. He comforted the woman as she tried to tell them what happened, but she couldn’t get all of her words out. The colorful one had a lightness to him that took on an almost magical quality, and Tim questioned whether his parents were right about inlanders. Surely they couldn’t all be evil if they were willing to be kind to one another, right?

The young inlander on the beach reminded him of the colorful one he had seen that night. Tim didn’t have any intention of revealing himself, but his heart squeezed for the other. Pain and suffering didn’t only happen to mers, he had learned, and it pained him that there was nothing Tim could do to help him. Even if he could reveal himself, his grasp on the language was atrocious at best. He had learned what he could from watching and listening to fishermen and dock workers, but he didn’t have much practice actually speaking to someone. Every now and again, he would practice in the underground cave he called home these days, but the water distorted the noise. Tim didn’t even know if he was pronouncing things right.

It had come as a shock to Tim when the boy threw a small, round object into the water, and the inlander had tears going down his face as he did it. Maybe he hadn’t meant to throw it? Even though it had almost hit him in the head, Tim still had to dive deeply to retrieve it. Once he had it in hand, he studied the object with care. This could be his ticket home; it was exactly what his parents would think was valuable… but the inlander had looked devastated. Maybe Tim could get close enough to throw it back to the older boy.

That was when everything had gone horribly wrong. Sharks weren’t terribly common in this area, but it wasn’t impossible to see them either. So, naturally, when Tim turned his back a shark came out of nowhere and sunk its teeth into his tail. He let out an underwater scream as he felt the teeth tear through his flesh. Tim had collected a wide variety of injuries since he had left home—rope burns, bruises from being washed into Gotham’s sharp rocks, even a stray bullet graze—but this one was the worst.

Tim clawed at the creature's eyes and pounded his fist against its nose, allowing him some time to get away from the shark. Every pass his tail made towards the shore was agony, but he needed to get away and the shore was the only option he had left. Once he got close enough to the beach, the shark stopped following his blood trail, but if he thought swimming had been hard it was nothing compared to crawling on land.

Gritty sand ground into his wound, and the pain was so bad that Tim had forgotten about the inlander until he was walking towards him. A whimper escaped his throat when he looked up and saw the boy with a knife. He had made a mistake and now he was going to lose his scales for it. That is all inlanders ever wanted from mers. Tim tried to back away, but his arms shook and gave out underneath him.

“Woah, hey, I’m not going to hurt you, buddy.”

The boy’s voice was soft and soothing, Tim could almost take the boy at his word, but panic had already taken over his mind. He tried to jerk away from the figure again, but it was no use; he was exhausted, injured, and hadn’t seen a decent meal in a long time. Tim did notice, however, when the boy put his knife away. It wasn’t like he couldn’t take it back out and pry Tim’s scales off, but he relaxed a bit at the display. Then the boy draped his jacket over Tim’s torso. It was heavenly warm in the frigid air of Gotham, and he buried himself as far as he could into the comforting heat. Tim couldn’t recall the last time he had been warm.

“That looks like it hurts,” he spoke softly, “I can help you.”

“D-don’t take my scales, p-please.” Tim didn’t know if he had made any sense to the inlander, but he tried anyway.

“I would never take your scales. I won’t hurt you, kid.” He held up his hands in what Tim recognized as a pacifying gesture. “Will you let me help?”

It didn’t look like he had very many options available to him, and Tim’s head was starting to feel fuzzy. He opened his mouth to speak, and he did, but Tim couldn’t actually figure out what he had said. A relieved look passed over the boy’s face, and he began to dig into the bag he had at his side. Black dots were starting to pepper his vision, and Tim found himself unable to track the other boy’s movements.

“I’m going to put pressure on the cut so that I can get you somewhere safe, okay?”

A shock of fear curdled Tim’s stomach, but it was disconnected from the bone-deep exhaustion that plagued every fiber of his being. If the boy took him away from the water’s edge, Tim would lose any ability he had to leave; however, staying meant bleeding out in the water alone. Neither was a thrilling option, but the former seemed to be better.

At some point, the boy must have turned Tim on his back and sat him up. An arm was placed around his back and supporting his weight while the other shook him awake. When had he closed his eyes? He couldn’t really figure out how much time had passed, but the boy had wrapped some sort of white material around the wound which was quickly becoming red with blood. Luckily, the jacket went unscathed by Tim’s injury—he didn’t need the boy angry with him for destroying his coat. The watch was still clutched in his left hand; maybe he could give it back to the boy in exchange for his help.

He was shocked from his stupor as the inlander picked him up, one arm supporting his tail and the other laid across his back. The movement shifted the wound, and Tim buried his head in the human’s shoulder to keep himself from screaming with the pain. The boy’s hushed him softly, and began to walk further ashore. He said that his name was Jason, and explained that the people he was bringing Tim to were trustworthy. It probably shouldn’t have calmed him as much as it did, but it had been a while since someone had been so nice to him.

Tim kept his head buried close to Jason's body, but as they kept walking he tugged gently on the fabric of the boy’s t-shirt. He looked down at Tim with so much gentle concern in his eyes that the mer began to genuinely trust his intentions. Before he lost his nerve, Tim opened his left hand to reveal the watch Jason had thrown earlier.

There was a flash of guilt in the inlander’s eyes. “Thank you for bringing it back. Hold onto it for me, okay?”

He supposed he could do that since Jason was helping him. Tim let his head fall back against the human’s collarbone, too tired to hold it up any longer. Who knew injuries took it out of him so much? He really wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but Jason made sure to shake him awake before he could fall into complete unconsciousness. It wasn’t long before they happened upon a strange entrance; it seemed like a long tunnel of some sort, but then opened into a strange above ground cave system.

Jason’s voice echoed in a way that underwater caves never quite managed. “Alfie, this kid needs stitches.”

Through hooded eyes, Tim could see an elderly man with white hair walking briskly towards them. A whine escaped his throat as the man neared, but Jason kept speaking delicate reassurances that had him relaxing into the boy’s hold again.

“Master Jason bring him to the Medbay at once. The bleeding must be staunched quickly.”

The old man said the words strangely, but Tim couldn’t figure out exactly why. His thoughts were like water going through a sieve, and he couldn’t focus on anything for more than a moment. Jason walked them into a room with lights that were far too bright for Tim to handle, and he turned his head fully against Jason’s chest to block them out.

Tim was placed on a soft surface, and he slit his eyes open to see his surroundings. Standing at the entrance of the room was the inlander dressed in black with pointed ears from the night he saved the woman. He was terrifying up close. Sure the man had helped the human woman, but how would he treat a young and injured mer?

The man stepped into the room at the exact time Jason let his arms fall away from Tim’s body. He let out a keen of distress that was made louder by the cavernous space, lunging to keep Jason from leaving him alone. Hugging his arm tightly to his chest, Tim looked up at the taller boy with tears in his eyes. He hadn’t realized he was shaking until Jason wrapped his arms around him again.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I won’t leave you.” A hand trailed up and down Tim’s spine and he relaxed into the soothing motion with a sigh.

From there, Tim didn’t really pay attention to what was happening around him. Every now and again Jason would make a comment to one of the other men in the room, but for the most part he talked to Tim about nothing. He gathered bits and pieces of what the boy said, but none of it penetrated Tim’s mind long enough to process.

The old man—Alfred, as he introduced himself—gently cleaned the wound and gave him some medication with a hollowed out stick of some sort. Jason explained that it would hurt for a second, but would help the overall pain of stitching the injury back together. Gentle fingers undid the knots in his hair as the process was undergone, keeping Tim from focusing too heavily on what Alfred was doing. The largest inlander, who introduced himself as Batman, stayed quietly in the corner, watching the proceedings with a calculating eye. The man made him nervous, but as long as Jason stayed near him, Tim was willing to stay calm.

Once the process was over, Alfred placed warm, wet towels on Tim’s tail, smiling softly at him. Finally, finally, Tim was allowed to fall asleep. Jason promised to stay until he woke up next, laying them both down on the bed with his arms wrapped around his waist protectively. Tim clutched the material of his shirt and snuggled into the comfort that the older boy provided as he peacefully drifted off.

Chapter Text

Tim woke up in a haze, not fully understanding where he was, or what was going on. Why was it so warm? Tim had grown used to the cold of Gotham’s waters, but now the chill had been chased from his bones. He fought to open his eyes, but the more he tried the less they wanted to cooperate. Somewhere near him, Tim heard a whimpering noise; he hoped that the person was okay, but there was no way Tim could help.

There were two bands that went around Tim’s waist, he could feel them, but they weren’t invasive. The sensation was closer to comfort, but there was still something off about his environment. Tim couldn’t quite place what though. When he went to move his tail, a sharp zing of pain raced down the appendage. Oh, Tim was the one who was whimpering.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” A voice soothed, “Just relax.”

Tim’s brain was foggy and, while he knew that the voice was speaking in a human language, none of the words made sense to him. But the voice seemed nice so Tim didn’t summon the energy to get away. In fact, he snuggled deeper into the comfortable warmth and let his thoughts drift away on the current of his mind. Consciousness had been fun and all, but Tim wanted to sleep more; it had been so long since he had felt this comfortable. Whoever the voice belonged to was safe—a fact that he knew down to his bones.

A pleasant humming noise buzzed through the air, and Tim had almost fallen asleep once more when his brow furrowed. Trying to bat away his suddenly persistent thoughts, he tried to bury himself deeper into the comfort. The bands gently squeezed a bit tighter, but loosened again before it could become too restrictive.

Wait.

That was a human voice who had spoken to him, and the humming sound didn’t travel like it naturally would. The familiar current of his cave didn’t rock him back and forth like it normally did. Tim’s eyes shot open frantically as the events resettled into his mind. Unconsciousness long forgotten, Tim jerked his head around to find anything familiar in his surroundings.

“Woah, woah, hey. It’s alright. No one is going to hurt you.”

At some point, Tim had sat up but he couldn’t remember the act of doing so. Looking to his left, he was met with the sight of the boy on the beach. His gunmetal gray eyes were wide with concern, and his mouth was moving, but Tim couldn’t really understand what was going on. Seriously, his brain could start working any time now. The bands that had been around him had actually been the older boy’s arms, and they had fallen away at the look of panic that Tim knew was marring his face.

The older boy pointed to himself and spoke, “My name’s Jason. Can you understand me?”

With the clarity that only survival instincts could bring, Tim miraculously understood what had been said. Now he just had to figure out how to respond.

Copying the boy’s hand gesture from earlier, Tim placed his index finger on his sternum.

“I am Tim. I…understand some.”

It was probably the exhaustion, pain, and nerves, but Tim stuttered and had to search for the right words. The older boy—Jason, he had said—waited patiently for his response. Tim was grateful for it. As he finished the sentence, his eyes dropped down so that he wouldn’t look Jason in the eyes.

A shiver raced down Tim’s spine, and he couldn’t stop trembling. He really missed the warmth from earlier. At some point, Jason's jacket had been replaced with a thick comforter that had been spread over the both of them. The older boy tucked the material that had pooled at their waists gently around Tim’s narrow shoulders. He clutched the fabric like a shield, and tried to hide as much of himself as he could. Tim was at his most vulnerable out of the water, and his brain made sure to point it out.

“It’s nice ta’ meet you, Timmy.” Jason’s eyes held genuine care, and he really didn’t know how that made him feel. “We can teach ya’ if you’d like.”

The last sentence was completely lost on Tim, but he had understood the first. He slowly let the blanket fall from his face which earned a warm smile from the other boy. The moment was promptly shattered by another voice. It wasn’t the growling rumble of the scary man, nor was it the voice of Alfred. No, this voice sounded richer in quality and was younger than the other two men, but still older than himself or Jason. The person it belonged to was also directly in Tim’s blind spot.

“Jason, thank god.”

With a startled yelp, Tim launched himself forward and into Jason, arms wrapping around his waist like a vice and tucking his head underneath the older boy’s chin. The sudden motion nearly toppled the other backwards off of the bed, but Jason managed to save them both by holding on tightly. His tail throbbed, Tim had definitely pulled some of his stitches with that last move, but that wasn’t his main concern at the moment. Jason may not have been a threat to him, but humans generally detested mers like him. Really, Tim was so small that even if they skinned him for scales they wouldn’t get much money from them. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and that could happen at any moment.

“Jesus, Dickface, you’re scaring the kid! Aren’t ya’ supposed to be on a mission or somethin’?”

Jason had started carding his fingers through Tim’s hair again, like he had the night before, and it felt heavenly. He didn’t let go of the older boy, nor did he make a move to look at the newcomer, but it did calm him on some instinctive level.

“B called me yesterday, absolutely frantic, when he found your note! Of course I came back!”

There was anger in the man’s voice that screamed danger, and Tim let out a whimper. The words had been spoken too quickly for him to understand what the conversation was about, but a bad temper never meant anything good when it came to mers; Tim doubted that humans were any different. Jason shushed him in a soft voice, but leveled a glare at the stranger.

“Either keep your voice down, or Get. Out.”

There was a lull in the conversation, and Tim could hear footsteps traveling towards them. A tall man entered Tim’s line of sight, and he relaxed slightly knowing how much distance there was between him and the newest human. The two inlanders were similar in some respects, but much different in others. At first glance, Tim would think they were related. Both had blue eyes and black hair, like Tim himself, but it was the subtle differences that set the two apart. The stranger’s eyes were a deeper blue, like the ocean, and he was built more narrowly. Jason was tanner than the other human, and was much stockier and broad shouldered. If Jason was still growing—Tim knew very little about human life cycles—then he would be, at some point, on par with the scary man from the night before.

The stranger’s shoulders sagged and he ran a hand through his cropped hair. Tim didn’t pay much attention, focusing entirely on Jason’s heartbeat to control his fear; the rhythmic noise calmed his nerves considerably.

“Did B adopt another one?”

“No, Tim washed ashore last night.”

A pause.

“…I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“Serious as a heart attack, Dickie. Timmy’s a mer. Best we can tell, he is a long way from home and was bitten by a shark.”

The stranger’s face—Tim didn’t know whether to call him Dickhead or Dickie, Jason had used both—showed with something like sympathy, and his body uncoiled from its tense position. Then his eyes tracked to a growing red patch on the comforter. Right, Tim had popped some stitches. And he was bleeding. Jason must have seen it too because he let out a violent curse at the other man who scrambled to get another needle and thread. The comforter was pushed back, and the cold air of the cave began to seep back into his bones again.

“Hey Tim, I need you to stay still, okay? Dick will have you fixed up in no time.”

Jason was Tim’s lifeline and he didn’t really have another choice but to let the other stranger take care of his wound. He didn’t want Jason to leave his side, and there was no one else besides the stranger that could feasibly fix him. Jason held his hand through the whole process, murmuring reassurances the whole time, and if Tim was stuck on the mainland he was glad that he had the older boy to help him.

By the time the process was complete, a clean blanket had been wrapped around him, and Jason gathered Tim into another protective embrace. The other man pulled up a chair to the side of the bed, and smiled gently at both of them until Tim couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

Chapter Text

Jason was pretending to be asleep. Did he know that he would eventually have to face Bruce and Dick? Sure. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t put it off until the last possible second. He hoped that his mom wasn’t too worried about him. Jason had told her he was going to be there yesterday, but he hadn’t made it for obvious reasons. Reasons like the mer child that was currently snuggling into Jason’s chest.

The poor kid must be terrified, and there was very little Jason could do to solve that. However, it seemed like the other boy had grown attached to him in the short amount of time they had known each other. It didn’t seem like the mer had anyone to care for him, and Bruce had plenty of space at the manor. Maybe the pool could be converted to warm salt water?

Even if Jason was kicked out of the house, it would be nice to know that the mer had somewhere safe to stay. The idea of leaving Wayne Manor made it hard to breath, but Jason had lived on the streets before. At least this time he had fighting knowledge and hacking skills. Hopefully, if his mom was still willing to take him in, that wouldn’t be necessary. Jason really should have trusted his initial instinct about Bruce; he knew the man would get tired of him eventually, or that he would fuck it up. The problem was that he had allowed himself to get comfortable, too comfortable.

Maybe if Bruce didn’t want either of them, Jason could move to a place with warmer waters so that they could stick together. It would be nice to have a little brother.

Dick cleared his throat from where he was watching them creepily from the chair. Jason didn’t even twitch, too well trained to be caught off guard, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“I know you’re awake, Little Wing.”

He gave it a few more seconds before he allowed his eyes to open. When he did, Dick had an arch in his brow. Jason wasn’t going to leave the kid to go and have a chat that he wanted to actively avoid. Hell, he wouldn’t leave this kid for a conversation he did want to have. Jason stared back at the other until Dick sighed heavily.

“You really want to accidentally wake the kid up?” Dick asked.

“That adrenaline crash was a nasty one. He won’t wake up for a while yet.” Jason ran a hand through the kid’s hair. “Besides, you’re the only one who wants to talk.”

Dick leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at the tile of the Medbay. It was some nice tile, Jason could definitely see the appeal. He closed his eyes again. Either Dick was going to ask what he wanted to ask, or Jason was going to get some more sleep.

“Bruce didn’t tell me what happened—not all of it at least. I know you were planning to run away, but he didn’t tell me where or why.”

“When you say ‘running away’ it sounds like I’m a kid who threw a tantrum and would be back in a few days.” Jason’s voice was low and non-combatant; he had seen how scared the mer was of raised voices.

There was no response from Dick.

Jason took a deep breath to calm himself down. “That’s exactly what you think happened.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Dick had just started trying to be something of a brother to him before he left on the most recent space mission. It wasn’t as though the other really knew him all that well, but it still hurt that Dick believed he was being dramatic.

“Look, I know how he is. I’m not saying you didn’t have a reaso—”

“—He was going to kick me out, Goldie. My apologies for not waiting around to formalize it.” Jason wasn’t even mad, he was just tired.

“What?”

The man sounded legitimately angry about what he had just said. Jason couldn’t tell why he was so upset about this though. At the beginning, the man hadn’t exactly been subtle about not liking him. Even if he said he was going to start trying, it hadn’t been long enough for the man to truly care about Jason.

“He—” Dick pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Did he say that outright?”

“No, but he thinks I killed a rapist. For the record, I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean that B believes me.” Jason didn’t meet Dick’s eyes. “I wasn’t about to pretend that I cared he died. B hasn’t talked to me since he first confronted me about it. Contrary to popular belief, I can take a hint.”

“He and I are going to have a word about this,” Dick hissed quietly, “If he does kick you out, then you can move in with me.”

Jason stopped breathing. Sure, Dick had promised to act like a brother to him, but…he hadn’t thought the man had actually meant it. Why would he? Jason was just the street trash that Bruce had replaced him with. But what struck him even more was that Dick just believed him—no proof needed—or if he didn’t, he hadn’t accused Jason either. His eyes stung at the courtesy and trust that it displayed; Jason wasn’t used to getting the benefit of the doubt.

“But I have my bio mom? You don’t need to be stuck with me.”

“You’re my brother. I meant what I said about being better.” Dick hesitated. “What’s this about a biological mother?”

“I-I found out Catherine Todd wasn’t my real mom. I got in contact and that was where I was going before I found him.”

As if hearing he was being talked about, the kid stirred a bit, wiggling deeper into the blankets with a huff. Jason shushed him quietly and hugged him a bit closer. The kid all but melted into the contact, settling down to sleep once more.

“You’re good with him, you know,” Dick expressed with a fond smile. “We can talk about your mom later. For now, I think it’s time we all got some more sleep. Do you mind if I join you?”

The bed was big enough to handle the three of them, and Tim seemed to trust Dick enough after he restitched his tail. Plus the kid was resting almost completely on top of Jason which made more room for Dick because Jason was definitely not putting the kid down. He nodded his head in agreement, and Dick settled onto his side, putting an arm over both of them.

“If…if Bruce kicks me out, can he come too?” Jason asked.

“Absolutely. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

Dick started gently threading his hand through Jason’s hair, scratching his scalp every now and again. The sensation was heavenly, and he followed the warm feeling when Dick took his hand away. He had to stifle the whine that wanted to escape, but Jason held it back. It turned out, he was only moving closer to them so that he didn’t fall off of the bed. When the tender ministrations continued, Jason could have purred like a cat.

“He is the smallest, cutest little blanket hog,” Dick whispered.

Jason snorted, “Yeah, it’s not like we can afford to keep extra blankets in the Medbay which we built in our home. Oh, wait.”

Dick gently pulled himself off of the bed to grab another blanket. Jason could have sworn he heard something similar to “smartass” come from his older brother’s mouth, but he was so close to falling asleep he chalked it up to his dulled senses. A thick quilt was placed over him and the kid as Dick settled back at their side. Jason snuggled closer and placed his head underneath Dick’s chin, shielding himself from the presence that was looking at them all from the doorway.

For now, things were okay.

Chapter Text

Tim woke up a second time, but it was far more peaceful than the first time he had done so in this strange place. He was thoroughly wrapped in a blanket with another one settled over the top of him. Without the disorientation, the place—the Medbay?—was both more and less intimidating than the first time he had awoken. It appeared that none of the humans had any immediate plans to descale him—a positive. However, that didn’t explain what they were going to do with him. Jason probably wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him, right? He hadn’t so far, and had comforted him when Dick restiched his tail.

There was movement underneath his body, a steady rise and fall, that didn’t abate. Jason was hugging him close to his chest, as if he were trying to keep Tim safe in some way. The thought warmed him further; it had been a long time since he had felt truly cared for, and he soaked up as much as he could. Shuffling around a tiny bit, Tim resettled, but was met by the gaze of another black haired, blue eyed inlander. It wasn’t Dick, but maybe…it was the scary shadow human from earlier with the pointed ears? They had the same build and jaw line, but he didn’t know that much about humans.

He was smiling softly at Tim in a way that he wasn’t quite used to. He ducked his head a bit behind the blanket, but Tim didn’t break eye contact with the man. The human was older than both Jason and Dick, but younger than Alfred. Tim waved shyly at the man, a human gesture that he had picked up on during his time in Gotham. He hoped it was the appropriate occasion for it—sometimes the seamen of Gotham would stick one of their fingers up at each other with the same demeanor, but it seemed different somehow. The man waved back and his smile grew deeper.

“Stop staring, Dad.” Jason’s voice rumbled from below Tim. “It’s creepy.”

The boy had clearly just woken up, but he hadn’t opened his eyes. Did humans have other ways of seeing in their environment, or was there some form of telepathic communication going on? These humans were very strange.

Off to his left side, the side that Tim was facing away from, there was a deep groan and shuffling movement. Jason held him closer as Tim tried to figure out what was directly next to them; the boy was whispering something over and over again, but he couldn’t really process what it was right away. It clicked in bits and pieces.

“—it’s alright, it’s just Dick. You’re safe, Timmy, remember?”

As always, Tim could only recognize half of what the other boy said, but the sound of his voice did relax him enough to calm down. He looked over slowly, and the words Jason had said suddenly clicked into place. Dick had been sleeping next to them, and now he was grumbling about the “proper amount of sleep.”

“No one is going to harm you here. We want you to be safe and happy.”

Tim slowly let all of the remaining tension in his body leak out as he placed his ear over Jason’s heart again. The soothing rhythm calmed his own racing pulse. If Jason wasn’t panicking then Tim was probably fine too. A hand cupped the back of his neck and slowly massaged the muscles there; it felt heavenly. His neck muscles weren’t used to the weight of being on land, and his body was angry with him. Tim let out a melodic hum as Jason continued to work the tension out of the area.

Being on land was definitely strange; his voice carried in odd ways that sounded almost ugly to his ear. Tim’s face went a bit hot with embarrassment, but he couldn’t seem to stop the noise coming from his throat. Instead, he tried to at least muffle the sound by shoving his face into one of the comforters that were on the bed.

“Wow… That sounded so cool!” Jason seemed happy about his humming. “It kinda sounds like a cat purring.”

He looked at the boy with widened eyes, and Jason ruffled his hair in what could only be an affectionate gesture. Dick hugged Jason closer, and by default Tim as well, but this time he wasn’t as nervous. Living in Gotham Bay had given Tim a penchant for paranoia. Fishing boats, freighters, and Gotham’s sea creatures were a very real threat, and Tim had never had the option of waking up slowly. Maybe things were changing. He was really tired of being alone.

“S-sounds…strange to me. Different.”

“That’s okay, buddy. It’s just because you’re above water.”

Dick put his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching the muscles in his back and arms. The man said something about getting Alfred to make them some food, but then stopped shy of the door with a look of contemplation on his face.

“Tim, is there anything specific that you would like to eat? Is there anything that you can’t have? ” The man asked.

There was a problem. Tim understood the question; he also knew the word in the inlanders’ language, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of what it was. He stuttered over the words that he could get across, but none of them were the right ones. What he really wanted was fish—preferably not from Gotham’s polluted waters, but he was so hungry Tim wasn’t going to complain about anything.

“It’s okay, kiddo! We can just bring a variety down and see if you like anything.” The man smiled at him gently before he left.

Once Dick was gone, there was a weird lull in conversation. It was like the man had taken the light atmosphere with him, but Tim couldn’t figure out why. He wondered if it was him, but it hadn’t been awkward when it was just Jason and him. No, the only new element was the man—Jason had called him Dad. The heartbeat under his ear sped up considerably even though the other boy hadn’t made any effort to move.

Jason feared this man for some reason. Tim wanted to know that reason. However, he supposed it was less important why Jason was afraid than the fact that he was afraid at all. Mer teeth were particularly sharp and were meant for tearing into their prey. Tim wasn’t exactly a predator, but he could protect Jason if it came down to it.

“Jaylad, I’m so glad your back,” Bruce moved towards them with a smile, but Jason’s breath hitched. “At some point, I’d like to talk—”

Tim cut the man off with a warning growl and a flash of his fangs. It even sounded scary too! The boy had tensed considerably since the man got up from his chair, but Jason hadn’t said anything about his own fear. He squirmed to put himself in front of the other boy; Jason had protected him, now it was Tim’s turn to do the same.

“Woah, it’s okay, Tim.” The man raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I’m not going to hurt you or Jason.”

Tim didn’t stop glaring at the man, but Jason pulled Tim’s back into his chest, trying to calm him.

“Make him scared,” Tim growled.

He was well aware of his own vulnerability in this situation. If a fight did break out then Tim had virtually no way to defend himself, but he could be a good distraction while Jason got away.

“Timmy, Pesciolino, he won’t hurt either of us. I promise.”

Jason ran a hand through Tim’s hair which wasn’t fair because he couldn’t help but chase the contact when the older boy removed his hand. It wasn’t really helping his ferocious image.

“But you are not…content?…comfortable?”

The man flinched from the corner of Tim’s eye, but it happened so quickly he couldn’t identify the cause. He settled himself firmly against Jason’s side—between him and the other inlander.

“It’s not that—”

“—I come bearing foo…! Food. Uhm, everything okay in here guys?”

Dick carried a platter with a significant amount of food on it—none of which Tim recognized. However, the man had it balanced on one forearm and was eating something from off of the plate, so he assumed it was edible. Now he had his eyes narrowed in on the other man; it was as though he was suspicious about something. Tim really wished he knew more about human interactions, but there was no world in which that look meant something good.

After a few awkward moments, Dick looked at Tim and smiled brilliantly, bringing the tray of food closer to him. He didn’t really know where to start if he were honest. None of it looked like anything he had ever had, so he didn’t really understand what each thing would taste like.

Jason gasped from beside Tim and his eyes went wide. “Dick, did you put fish on that tray?”

Fish! That was the word he had been looking for earlier! He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten it. But why did Jason seem so horrified by it? Did he not like fish? If it was on the tray Tim assumed that at least someone in the room liked it. Tim knew that humans liked fish because he had been caught in their nets a few memorable times; so clearly humans, in general, ate seafood.

“That’s—That’s basically cannibalism! Wait, Tim—”

He had picked up a slice of pink fish—it was scaleless which was odd—but Jason had slapped it out of his hand and into his lap before he could take a bite. Tim looked down at the slice of food mournfully, unable to stop the pout that crawled onto his face. Dick looked like he was trying not to burst into laughter, failing miserably, and the other man seemed faintly amused.

“Jay, buddy, pal—what do you think mers eat?” Dick handed Tim another slice which he took gingerly from his fingers.

“I-I don’t know! Seaweed or something!” Tim snuck the other piece off of the bed while Jason stuttered his response.

Dick launched into a long explanation, between laughing fits, about someone named “Aqualad” and “Arthur” which Tim was too busy eating to pay attention to. The fish was unlike any he had ever tasted, and it was fresh despite its lack of scales. It had been a long time since he had caught any game that would have equated to a portion of this size. Jason hadn’t been wrong; seaweed could be used to supplement a mer’s diet, but it didn’t provide enough nutrients alone. It also tasted absolutely terrible when Tim had scraped it off of the bottom of Gotham’s waters, but he did what he had to.

As the others started to eat, Tim couldn’t help but try some of the inlanders food as well. Jason had opted for a sandwich, after Dick concluded his lecture, and nibbled at it as he watched Tim copy his choice from the corner of his eye. The boy seemed concerned for him, but he really couldn’t place why that would be. Where the atmosphere had been awkward before, the food seemed to break the tension with the others talking amongst themselves. The chatter was nice; Tim hadn’t had a soul to talk to in a long while—even longer since he talked to someone nice.

After the meal concluded, Alfred checked his wound and remoistened the towels encasing his tail. The water felt nice against his scales, but the elderly man said that he wasn’t allowed to swim with the injury for a few more days. As Jason continued to fuss over him—and Dick telling stories that he could only partially understand—Tim didn’t think he would mind staying here while he healed.

Chapter Text

For the next few days, Jason didn’t leave the little kid’s side. Only the occasional shower kept him away for too long, and the rest of the time was spent with Dick and sometimes Alfred and Bruce. He knew the conversation had to happen eventually—he did—and the more he put it off the worse it was going to be.

Tim was still in the Medbay; the wound wasn’t healing as fast as any of them had expected, so he would need another week or so in the cave so that he could remain under observation. Dick was keeping the little fish company, and Jason had told them that he might be a while. Bruce wouldn’t be so cruel as to kick him out before he could say goodbye to him, right? Dick had said they could both stay with him, but…that was a lot to ask of the man.

Everything seemed so uncertain, and Jason’s nerves were shot. The conversation couldn’t wait any longer.

That’s how Jason found himself knocking on Bruce’s office door about four days after the kid had swam into their lives. If he didn’t choose a time for their talk, then it would be chosen for him. At least if Jason did it now then he wouldn’t have to keep living in this kind of fear. He didn’t want to be thrown away by another father figure, but it didn’t really seem like he had a choice.

Bruce was doing paperwork and had called for him to enter after Jason had knocked. The shock that crossed the man’s face was speedily wiped away; clearly, he hadn’t been expecting Jason to be the one at his door. In theory, Jason could run away and try again tomorrow, but if he had faced down some of Gotham’s worst criminals, he could get through a painful conversation with Bruce.

“Jaylad! Come and sit.”

This was the first time that Jason could positively say that Bruce seemed out of his depth. Fighting a psycho clown? The man had that down to a science. Having a conversation with Jason? It may as well have been an unsolvable puzzle. Maybe that was Jason’s fault. Regardless, he lowered himself into the plush leather seat across from Bruce.

“I think we need to talk, Bruce.” Jason couldn’t look the man in the eye and kept his gaze on the antique desk.

“I didn’t kill Garzonas. I understand that you don’t believe me—I do—but your belief to the contrary doesn’t make it any less true.”—Maybe Alfred’s etiquette classes had paid off—“I know you want me to leave, and that it was wrong of me to not tell you my intentions in person before I left, but I figured I’d save us both an awkward conversation.”

“No, Jason, please listen to me,” Bruce all but begged, “I never wanted you to leave.”

The man got up from the table and kneeled at the side of Jason’s chair.

“Please, you have to believe that. Killing is wrong, yes, but I was worried about you. This job that we do takes a mental toll—one that I never want you to have to pay. I’m sorry I was so distant and angry. Just please don’t scare me like that again.”

Bruce tried to place a hand on Jason’s shoulder, but he flinched away from the contact. It was a habit that was deeply ingrained in Jason during times of perceived threat—both from his childhood and his night job. He always needed to be ready for the next strike or the next attack; it was exhausting, but it had saved his life more times that he could count. The man didn’t try to touch him again after that.

“I…It’s—You don’t really mean that. I know what I am, Bruce. You don’t have to parse words. I’m just the street rat you felt responsible for. I don’t have to be your responsibility anymore. This is me giving you your freedom back, Old Man.”

Bruce’s voice cracked a bit on his next words. “Can you look at me, Jason? Really look?”

It positively burned, but Jason did as the man asked. He was surprised to see the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

“When I thought you had left, I was worried about you. I’ve seen the way you’ve been struggling recently, even before the Garzonas case.”

The man ran the back of his hand to catch a stray tear before it dripped onto the carpeting.

“I read your note and the only thing that I could think about was never getting to tell you how sorry I was for making you feel like I didn’t want you here. If something had happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself.”

Jason let out a strangled laugh. “I’m literally Robin. Nothing was going to happen to me out there. You taught me how to handle anything.”

“You put too much faith in me, Jaylad. Faith that I don’t deserve. Please, please, don’t ever go where I can’t follow you.”

“So you…you still want me around?”

“As long as you want to be around, Jason.” Bruce opened his arms, offering a hug. “Can I give you a hug? You have quite the fierce bodyguard downstairs. I’m afraid he won’t let me near you.”

Jason gave a real chuckle this time and leapt from his chair, burying his face in Bruce’s sternum. He was grateful that the older man didn’t point out the silent sobs that wracked his body. The man rocked them back and forth as they kneeled on the floor together, his nose buried in Jason’s hair.

As the conversation came to a close, Jason felt his eyes droop with the weight of exhaustion. While he hadn’t done anything too strenuous in the past few days, he hadn’t been sleeping well either. His situation had been too precarious to allow his mind to rest. But there was one thing he needed to know before he fell asleep.

“Hey, Dad?”

Jason could feel the hummed response through his chest.

“‘An Tim stay with us? He’s too small ta be ‘lone.”

“Of course, Jaylad. He’s family now too.”

A sleepy smile crossed his face, but Jason’s words came out too slurred to be recognizable. A laugh rumbled through them both, and right before Jason fell into the inky blackness of unconsciousness , he felt two strong arms pick him up and settle them both down on the couch. A gentle kiss was pressed to his forehead and Jason was dead to the world shortly after, a small smile still painted on his face.

An undetermined amount of time later there was an urgent knock on the door. Jason was startled from sleep as he whipped his gaze towards the door, Bruce doing much the same. Dick stood breathing heavily in the doorway with his hair disheveled and his chest heaving.

“It’s Tim, there’s something wrong.”

Chapter Text

For a long time, Tim had been freezing in Gotham Bay. Sure, he was borderline hypothermic for months, but over time Tim had become accustomed to the unforgiving waters. However, Tim had gotten used to being warm again in the last few days with Jason and his family. Tim was already reaping the benefits of his warmer climate. His muscles were much more relaxed now because he wasn’t constantly tense fighting the frigid water. He was starting to enjoy being comfortable again.

Which was why it was so strange to wake up boiling hot.

The sickness seemed to hit him all at once which was odd. There had been no hint of sickness the day before—or what he presumed to be the day before. Jason had said something about three meals a day; Tim had only ever eaten when he could find something to eat. So days were really just counted by the number of times food was brought to him.

Light burned his eyes—even though they were closed—as he swam back to consciousness. A whimper tore from his throat, and he tried to bury his face into his pillow; the hot air that met him was absolutely suffocating. There seemed to be no way to escape the discomfort which made him want to weep.

“You okay, buddy?” Dick asked.

“H-Hot.”

The man stood and pulled the blankets off of him, but Tim must have been cursed because the wafting air made him shiver with cold. It felt like his body’s temperature control had snapped and was teetering back and forth from one extreme to the other. Tim curled into a ball to try and retain some sense of control, but it didn’t help. Nimble fingers unwrapped the bandages around his tail, and Dick made a noise of confusion, presumably surprised by something he saw.

“Your wound isn’t infected or anything, and it isn’t swollen.”

The inlander came around to kneel at his bedside, flicking a stray hair out of his face as he did so. Tim reached out his hand to the man which was quickly engulfed by both of Dick’s. Even though Tim had found him scary at first, the man had proven himself to be nothing but kind. He still wished Jason was with him though, but he said he needed to do something and that he would be gone for a bit. The back of Dick’s hand reached up to touch Tim’s forehead, and he flinched away as the cool appendage met his skin.
God, why did he feel so wrong?

Massaging a hand through Tim’s ebony locks, Dick looked down at him with a sad frown. “Will you be okay here alone for a few minutes? I need to get help.”

Dick pulled his hand away, but Tim grasped it with his own and tried to keep him from leaving. It was getting harder to think the longer he tried to stay awake. Tim really didn’t want to be left alone. What if they didn’t come back? He hadn’t even considered that Jason might leave without saying goodbye, but maybe they were trying to soften the blow of their abscence. His heart began to race, but if Dick really wanted to leave, there was nothing Tim could do to stop him.

“Hurry? Be back?”

“I promise, Timmy. I want to get you help.”

He let the other’s hand drop, and Dick strode from the room with urgency. Tim’s lucidity started to drift like a raft on the ocean after that. Luckily, the older human had left the comforter nearby, and Tim gripped it and bundled the fabric over his head, blocking out the light again. It wasn’t enough to keep his headache at bay but it lessened the sting in his eyes.

It could have been minutes, hours, or years when he heard Jason come barreling through the door with the other inlander behind him. Fortunately, the comforter over his head muffled some of Jason’s frantic speaking because the noise made his brain want to short circuit.

“Little Fish? What’s the matter?” A hand settled gently on his shoulder. “We gotta help him B.”

Every time Jason worried about him, it came as a shock to Tim. Why this random inlander had even given him the time of day—or night as the case remained—was beyond him. It wasn’t like it was Bart of Kon, who always made sure to check in on him back when he was allowed home. Despite the strangeness of the creatures, they all seemed like they had good hearts.

Though Tim still wasn’t quite sure what to make of the one Jason called “Dad.” He was still on thin ice.

The material was slowly peeled away from his face, but Jason’s bulk blocked out the vast majority of the fluorescent lighting. He tried to wiggle closer, but his body felt disjointed and his tail was starting to ache.

“I’ve already called in Arthur.” The man kneeled down next to Jason, still towering over him. “He’ll be here within the hour.”

Jason grumbled something that was unintelligible to Tim’s ears, but it didn’t matter. The boy didn’t seem like he wanted anything from him, and that was more comforting than anything. Tim knew Jason would help him through this—whatever this was—without making Tim feel bad about it. The other boy cupped both sides of his jaw and his thumbs lightly caressed across his cheekbones. It was soothing and drove away some of the pain in Tim’s head, but the lights were still piercing.

“Too bright. Please.”

His brain was mush, but nothing seemed to be getting any worse for the time being which was all Tim had the gall to ask for. The wound on his tail didn’t even hurt! The whole appendage just had an unidentifiable ache. Tim would have cursed his luck if he thought it would do him any good.

The lights were turned off a moment later, and Tim’s whole body relaxed into the plush surface of the mattress. He hadn’t even realized he was so tense.

“That’s it, kiddo. Just relax.” Jason’s voice was a whisper this time; a fact for which Tim was grateful. “You’ll be all better soon.”

He certainly hoped that was true; Tim was so tired of living in pain and fear and hunger. All he could do was take life a breath at a time until something could be done. His life had taken an extreme turn, but as the others settled in around him for their silent vigil Tim decided that maybe it wasn’t so bad. It was nice having people in his corner, he decided.

Chapter Text

Tim had fallen into an uneasy sleep after the lights had been shut off. He drifted in and out as Jason hummed a calming melody in the air. If given more time and brain power, Tim could almost place specific words, having heard the full song somewhere before. Maybe he recognized it from being played on one of the boats in the harbor? He didn’t know, but he appreciated it nonetheless. As long as he heard the other boy’s humming, he knew that Jason was nearby.

Sometime later, there was a small alarm that went off inside the Medbay. They had warned Tim that it would happen, but it still made him nearly jump out of his scales. Jason held one of his hands and reassured him when he began to cower towards him. Tim didn’t even notice that Bruce and Dick had left the room until a minute later when he gained the courage to open his eyes.

“It’ll be okay, Guppy,” Jason whispered, “Arthur will know what to do. He’s really nice; you’ll see.”

Tim tugged on the boy’s arm to guide him up onto the bed with him. He was too exhausted to form human words; and even if he tried, Tim knew that they probably wouldn’t make any sense. For the first time since he had been here, Tim was feeling the bone-deep frustration of not being able to tell Jason what he really meant. Relying on his limited knowledge of the inlander language was exhausting, but he did feel like he was getting better at expressing himself. It came and went in waves though.

Jason huffed a laugh. “I didn’t think fish were this cuddly.”

The look in Jason’s eye held nothing but mischief, but he sat on the bed and wrapped both arms around him anyway. Tim didn’t know what “cuddly” meant, but it seemed like it might have been a well-meaning dig. It didn’t matter though; he could hear Jason’s heartbeat like this, so Tim wasn’t going to complain.

Tim reached for the comforter a few moments later. He was cold again, but it was hard to get the blanket with both of his arms still wrapped around the other boy. Jason batted his arms away from the comforter and reached behind him, grabbing the material with one hand, bundling him in the material like a cacoon; he even went as far as to cover Tim’s head.

“That better?” Tim let out a grateful humm. “You’re purring again, so that must be a good sign. Let me know if you get too warm, okay buddy?”

Muffled voices came from just outside the door.

“—ad a mer child in your care this whole time and didn’t bother to tell me? You have no idea how to take care of a sick mer.”

It was a low, gravelly voice that Tim didn’t recognize. It was smoother than Bruce’s, but the person seemed angry. Why was everyone always angry the first time he met them? Was it Tim’s fault? He didn’t mean to make everyone this way; it just seemed like he had a talent for it. They were definitely talking about him, but the words were too fast, smoothing together to make one long word in his mind. Tim still had a long way to go before he was fluent in the language.

“We have done extensive research, but there appears to be something else at play here.” There was a hint of steel in Bruce’s voice.

Tim must have let out a noise that showed his unease at the situation and their newest guest, and Jason squeezed him tighter, rocking him back and forth and running a hand up and down his back. It never ceased to amaze him just how calming his presence could be. The voices stopped talking after that, and the shifts in the air indicated that the three men were walking towards his bed.

Jason shifted him so that Tim was laid sideways across his lap with one arm holding him upright. The new position put Tim in the place to look the newcomer in the eyes. Once he recognized who it was, Tim was immediately bombarded with equally strong urges to scramble backwards or sit up straight and tall for politeness’ sake. He froze in terror instead of either.

The man was extremely tall, several inches taller than Bruce at least, and was extremely muscular. There was a notch in his left eyebrow that spoke of hard battles, and tattoos that covered a good portion of his arms and torso. Dark hair and eyes contrasted with the green and gold of his scaled armour. Tim was slightly relieved that they weren’t actual mer scales, but rather a metal alloy of some sort. He would have been more curious about that if it were under different circumstances.

Despite having never met him, the magic and power that radiated off of the man told Tim exactly who was standing in front of him. All mers possessed magic to different degrees, transformation and shape shifting chief among them, but Atlanteans were extremely powerful beings.

The giant trident was also a pretty big giveaway, he supposed.

This was Arthur: the reigning king of the Atlantians. Tim had grown up in a relatively well-to-do mer family, but he had never had the opportunity to meet the man, despite his parents’ fervent attempts. They would have been ashamed of him, if they could see him right then—a literal fish out of water in front of the ocean’s most powerful protector.

A small smile appeared on the man’s face as he sat on a chair in front of him, leaning his trident in the corner. He was distantly surprised that the chair would hold the Atlantean’s bulk, but the metal didn’t budge.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m Arthur.” He was speaking Tim’s language! “They tell me you’re hurting. I’d like to help if you’d let me.”

The familiar language of clicks and chatters was a soothing balm to him. It was the first time since he had been on land that he could fully understand what someone had said without second-guessing himself. Unfortunately, he was also in the presence of a very powerful authority figure. Tim couldn’t mess this up.

“H-Hello, Sir.” He kept his eyes down in deference. “I would be grateful for any help you are willing to provide.”

Tim was reminded of Jason’s proximity as the boy gently placed a hand on the back of his neck. He leaned further into the contact, but still refused to meet the King’s eyes.

“You can call me Arthur. What’s your name?”

“Tim Drake, Si—Arthur.” The informality tasted like poison on his tongue, but the Atlantean gave him a beaming grin in return so it must have made him happy.

Arthur spoke to the other’s next. “I need to take a look at his injury. Tim said it’s okay.”

Dick broke his silence from the corner. “Did he say anything else? Does he have a family? Isn’t Gotham too cold for mers, normally?”

Jason tensed a bit when Dick asked his questions, but Tim couldn’t figure out why. Instead of disrupting their conversation with his inquiry, he ran a hand up and down the boy’s arm. He took some pride in the fact that he could calm the other boy down too.

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he gently unwrapped Tim’s tale, inspecting the soaked towels as he let them drop to the floor. “I’ll ask him later, once I know what’s wrong with him.”

It bothered him a bit that they were talking about him like he wasn’t there, but they seemed to only be trying to help so Tim swallowed his snark. Being alone for so long must have made him go a bit more feral than he usually does. His mother and father would have been appalled that he would consider snapping at them at all. Luckily, neither had the ability to read minds.

Instead of thinking any further about his parents, Tim kept his eyes focused on the man as he made to reach for his tail. The red scales held patches of scars from his tribulations in Gotham Bay—some from even earlier—and the man frowned at them. Outstretching a large hand, the man made to trace one of the bullet grazes he had sustained. Even though he knew it was coming, Tim flinched violently as soon as the fingertips made contact with the grisly new scales. He had given the man permission to help make him better, but it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t really know Arthur.

“Shhh,” He soothed, “I’m sorry I scared you. May I ask you how you got this? It looks like a bullet wound.”

“Sometimes…sometimes it’s hard to find food. The fishermen take most of the fish, so I try to get it before they can. I don’t know why, but they fire guns into the water sometimes.”

A look of pure rage crossed Arthur’s face before it settled into something more neutral. Tim tried not to squirm under his gaze.

“Is this one from getting caught in a net?” He asked, looking at an intricate burn he had gotten days before meeting Jason.

“I always take a sharp rock to cut myself free, if it comes down to it.”

Arthur’s smile was tighter than it had been before, but it didn’t seem to be directed at Tim. Instead of responding, the man looked to Tim for permission to continue. He nodded his head in return, and the man’s hand went to examine the shark bite.

The wound was painful, but it did look marginally better than it had when the stitches were replaced by Dick. That night seemed like a long time ago, but it had really been less than a week. It was strange how fast life could change.

After a few minutes of poking a prodding—Jason running fingers through his hair every time he couldn’t hold in a whimper—Arthur looked up with a grim look on his face. Tim’s stomach dropped.

“It’s not the wounds, or lack of salt water, that’s making the kid sick—or at least, not really,” Arthur explained, “The kid’s been spellbound.”

Chapter Text

“Spellbound?” Jason asked.

Why would anyone spellbind a kid? Specifically, who would spellbind this kid? If Jason understood the concept as well as he thought he did, people only spellbound others because they had proven themselves to be too dangerous. Tim was a strange mer, but Jason refused to think he had proven himself to be evil. He was, like, six years old or something.

As he was thinking, the little mer buried his head into the crook of Jason’s neck and refused to look at any of them.

“It’s rare to see, but it sometimes happens.” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. “More specifically, I believe he was spellbound so that he couldn’t shift into his human form.”

Jason was confused, mers could take a human form? Well, it seemed like Bruce and Dick had known that, considering they nodded their heads like everything made sense. The thing was, Jason very much wanted to know what he had been missing.

“Am I the only one that didn’t know mers could transform?” Jason growled, “I feel like this is something I should have been told.”

Tim flinched back from Jason a bit, and guilt immediately gripped him. Jason had never been the best at holding his anger back, but that didn’t mean he had meant to scare the kid. He let the boy have his space—as much space as the kid could have sitting across his lap—but Tim still wouldn’t look directly at him.

“It’s actually a jealously guarded secret amongst the mer community.” Arthur side-eyed the other vigilantes. “Spellbinding is practiced only in the case of severe criminals, or for grave medical conditions.”

The mer had started to relax back into Jason again, but had begun to nervously pick his fingernails. Jason gently pulled Tim’s hands apart and covered them with his own. Was Tim sick before he was injured? A spike of worry shot through him, and Jason placed one of the smaller blankets around the other boy’s narrow shoulders. Tim didn’t have a fever or anything, but the cave could get frigid; if they weren’t careful he could get sicker.

“I highly doubt he’s a hardened criminal.” Bruce arched an eyebrow. “And we couldn’t find any other forms of illness outside of the obvious wound.”

Arthur grimaced a bit before he continued. “There are still back alley mer doctors that will do it, no questions asked, but it’s expensive, dangerous, and vile.”

The Atlantean ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why it was done, but I can undo it.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with him feeling so bad? Don’t get me wrong, spellbinding doesn’t sound great, but why is he sick because of it?”

“He’s been out of water for too long, and his body wants to shift so he can survive on land,” Arthur explained patiently, “Because the spell won’t let him, his body doesn’t like it. I know how to undo the binding immediately, but I want his permission.”

Bruce agreed to the suggestion, and Jason prodded the little fish to look at Arthur again. As the boy tucked his head under Jason’s chin, he couldn’t fathom how anyone would spellbind the kid against his will. Because that’s what they were saying right? Someone had hurt this kid against his will, and someone had gone along with it.

Arthur started speaking to Tim in his native language. It had a beautiful sound to it, like a lullaby of clicks with something like chatters in between. The sounds reminded him a little bit of the purring sound Tim makes when Jason brushed through his hair. The kid deflated suddenly at something that the Atlantean said, and it wasn’t the first time he was jealous of the other’s ability to talk to the other boy.

He squeezed the kid as much as he dared to give him some strength; Jason didn’t know what was being said, but the look on Arthur’s face flickered from sympathy to downright murderous. Tim was starting to shake at that look, and Jason was this close to telling Arthur to fuck off—except he would definitely be the fastest way to get Tim better. He kept his mouth shut, and Dick walked over to sit next to them.

A sharp look from the older man had guilt flashing across Arthur’s features before they settled into something soft. It seemed like he apologized to Tim for his aggression, and Jason deflated. He didn’t want to have to fight an Atlantean King, but he’d damn well do it if he made Tim uncomfortable.

A few more moments of conversation had Arthur looking up at the rest of them, specifically Jason.

“He says he’s willing to undo the spellbinding, and knows that the process will be painful.”

“Will he be better afterwards?” Jason inquired sharply.

“Yeah. As far as I can tell, it’s the only thing keeping him from getting better. You’ve all done everything else right. As much as it pains me to admit, with that one in the room.” Arthur gestured vaguely towards Bruce, but continued to direct the conversation at Jason.

As long as the kid was okay, the rest could be sorted out. Tim had begun to shiver again, and it was long past time that they rectified the problem. Arthur seemed to sense this, and asked whether or not they wanted to start.

“As long as Tim’s okay with it, then it should be done.” Bruce gave the final word.

Tim squeezed Jason’s hand, bracing himself for a process that he knew wouldn’t be pleasant. He hoped that it wouldn’t take too long; Tim had suffered enough already. Arthur moved forward and laid a gentle hand on the bottom of the little mer’s fin. Jason couldn’t tell what happened next, but the kid tensed so hard he was afraid that he’d pop the stitches a second time. Bracketing him in with his arms, he made sure his torso didn’t move as Dick moved to make sure that his tail didn’t stray too far from Arthur’s grip.

A sob tore itself from the mer with painful whimpers following in its trail. Jason hummed to try and distract him from the pain, but he didn’t know how successful it was. He had felt helpless before in his life, but there was something so much worse about this. Jason couldn’t say how long the process took, but it felt like an eternity. By the time it was over, Jason felt like his heart had been torn in two.

In the place of Tim’s tail were two legs—one with neat stitches that were still intact. Jason would have been shocked if he wasn’t so focused on how the kid had gone limp in his arms. The little mer’s head lulled lifelessly onto his shoulder as the rest of his muscles went slack.

“Tim?” Jason shook his shoulder. “Guppy? You gotta open your eyes buddy. C’mon!”

Mind numbing terror struck harder than a lightning bolt, and Jason felt wildly at the boy’s neck for any trace of a pulse. His hands were shaking violently, but he managed to find it after a few failed attempts. Everyone was talking in the background, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck about any of them right now. None of the words penetrated his consciousness as he focused on finding out what was wrong with Tim.

There was a large hand on his shoulder, and another under his chin, forcing him to look up.

“Jaylad, Tim will be alright,” Bruce murmured, “It just took a lot out of him is all. He’ll wake up sometime soon.”

The man’s words were a soothing balm for his nerves, and Jason let out a shaky breath as they sunk in more fully. Tim would be fine; the guppy was safe, and that was all that mattered to him at the moment.

“I need you to stay with him though. Okay, honey?” Bruce asked, “Arthur said he needed to discuss some things with me before he leaves.”

Jason wasn’t going to argue with that. He didn’t really want to leave the kid, but he did want to know what had been said during the conversation. Did Tim have any family? If he did, it certainly didn’t seem like they were a family worth keeping.

And…

Jason didn’t want the kid to go. It was nice having a younger sibling around; he had always wanted one, and Tim was sweet and kind and deserved people in his corner. Part of him knew he was being a bit dramatic about everything—Jason had only known the kid for a week, if that, but it didn’t change the fact that losing the kid now would be like losing a limb.

Bruce was speaking to him again, Dick was home, and Jason finally felt like he belonged at the manor. Tim had made that possible whether he had known it or not. Jason wanted to return the kindness that the mer had unknowingly shown him. Hopefully, if their conversation went well, Tim would stay with them.

Chapter Text

Tim hadn’t really wanted to tell Arthur—who had insisted on Tim using his first name—about why he had been spellbound. Frankly, he had almost forgotten about the spell, it had been so long since it had been placed. His parents had done it under the advice of a close family friend after Tim had toddled into an expensive vase at a gala. He couldn’t remember it that well; Tim had been far too young at the time. His parents had said they would have it undone when he was older and “more controlled,” but the more time that had passed, the more Tim doubted the claim.

He didn’t remember much of the original spell—only that it hurt as much as the undoing. No one had been there when he had awoken from the procedure. As he waded back into consciousness, Tim realized that this time was different. Jason’s large frame towered over him, blue eyes looking down in concern while Dick smiled a bit sadly next to him.

It took a while for his brain to come back online, but when it did Tim recognized the feeling of hands in his. Jason was holding one, but his other was cradling the back of his head gently, fingers scratching at his scalp. Tim turned his head into his forearm and let out a whine. Both hands squeezed him more tightly and didn’t let go.

“You’re okay, guppy. I promise.” Jason readjusted his hold and lifted Tim’s upper body into his arms.

Tears stung his eyes, and Tim rubbed them away on the older boy’s shirt. After a few moments, he started to realize that his lower half felt strange. Like…like he didn’t have his tail anymore. Instead, he could feel two legs brushing against each other where he was covered under the blanket. He wondered if he could still walk after all this time. Clearly, he hadn’t been too great at it before, but maybe Jason would teach him if he asked? Tim hoped so. Jason didn’t seem like he would be a mean teacher.

“L-legs?” He croaked.

Jason chuckled a little bit. “Yeah, buddy. You’ve got legs now. And Arthur healed your wound with magic so you’re good as new!”

Tim wasn’t sure how much he would like legs. His parents had warned him about how terrible purebred inlanders were; but so far, everyone he had met seemed genuinely nice. Tim was sure that wasn’t always the case—he had seen that red head thrown into the water a month ago—but maybe he could make a few friends on the surface. Even if he couldn’t, at least he had Jason, and maybe even Dick.

“He’ll still need plenty of rest, Jaylad.” Bruce called from further away.

“Don’t worry, Tim, he isn’t always that much of a spoil sport,” Jason stage whispered.

“Well, Little Wing,” Dick shifted out of sight. “With the amount of mother-henning you’ve been doing, I think it’ll be you who’s going to be the spoil sport.”

Jason squawked in indignation, but Tim had stopped focusing on the conversation. It was odd. Why could Tim suddenly understand everything that had just been said? Normally, he could only understood half of what they said. Now, it was almost as though their language was his own.

“I…I understand everything. Why? And I can speak your language as well?”

The Atlantean king stepped up to his bedside, grinning down at him. He had been so kind to Tim by taking away the binding, but he knew about Tim’s life. The man shouldn’t have wanted to be kind to him, so why had he made such an effort for someone like him? He was grateful, but didn’t the man have people who needed to be saved elsewhere? Tim didn’t want to take up more of the King’s time and energy than necessary.

“I created a language translation bracelet for you, little man,” he explained, “After a while I don’t think you’ll need it, but if you want to stay on the surface—Gotham especially—you’ll need to understand immediately.”

Bruce looked displeased at Arthur’s declaration, but seemed to agree because he didn’t deny the statement. Tim looked to his left arm and noticed fabric tied around it with a single white pearl. It hummed with powerful magic which mystified and calmed him in equal measure like the gentle rocking of a small current.

“Thank you.” Tim bowed his head in deference.

There was a rumbling noise which appeared to be getting nearer as he spoke, but Tim ignored it in favor of focusing his attention on the man in front of him. He noted that Dick ghosted out the door, but not much else.

“Anytime,” Arthur reassured, “Unfortunately, an important matter has arisen and needs to be looked into.”

The man switched to Tim’s native tongue for his next question.

“Do you feel safe staying here with them for some time? I would like to take you to Atlantis if you would be okay with it.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Tim flinched, “I want to stay with Jason. Here.—Only if that’s okay!”

Bruce came to sit at his side, his bulk casting a shadow over him, and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. Tim allowed it. Jason seemed completely at ease with the man now, and the older boy hadn’t shown any discomfort with the man being near him.

“You don’t need to apologize. If you would like to stay here, you have a permanent place.”

“Yeah, Timbo! Have you ever seen a movi—?”

“—not have told me about another whole child? Seriously, Dick, what if he has parents who are looking for hi…him.”

A strangely dressed red headed woman had waltzed into the room, but stopped abruptly with wide eyes. Tim’s mouth hung open in surprise, and he stiffened a bit in the bed. The last time he had seen the woman, she had been thrown off the docks with chains on her ankles. It had taken all of Tim’s strength to pull her to shore, and then two other inlanders—including the man with pointed ears, who Tim was positive was just Bruce dressed differently—had come and comforted her. None of them had seen him nearby as Tim had gathered the strength to swim to his cave that night.

“You—I know you. You saved me at the docks! I thought I was seeing things.” The last part seemed like it was said to herself.

Tim curled in on himself when five sets of eyes looked to him for an explanation. He didn’t like being the center of attention on a good day, but this was a bit too much. Nevertheless, his parents would be furious if he didn’t respond with something.

“You were scared. I wasn’t going to leave you alone.”

A soft look overtook the woman’s face as Tim explained. She seemed like a kind person, and Tim hadn’t wanted her to suffer or die that night. Tim knew firsthand how unforgiving the Gotham Harbor could be, and he had the advantage of being about to breathe underwater. There had been so many times when he had wished for someone to help him when things were hard. Tim had wanted to give her what he didn’t have.

“Thank you.” She had tears in her eyes when she spoke a few moments later, her voice trembling faintly.

Tim struggled with how to respond, but luckily Jason jumped in by changing the topic to the logistics of his stay. The older boy stayed close as they began to discuss their next steps. There was something called “physical therapy” that they wanted him to do.

After a while, Tim’s eyes began to droop again even as he was trying to focus. As the conversation continued, Tim couldn’t help but think maybe his wish for help had been granted. Everyone encouraged him to fall asleep, and the woman—Barbara he had learned—even told him a story about someone named Ariel until fuzzy unconsciousness took him under.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Tim found himself being carried into the manor portion of the cave. The stairs were more than they thought he could handle at the moment, and Tim hadn’t liked the idea of an elevator. Enclosed spaces were a bit too nerve wracking for him at this point—even with Jason there; maybe even especially with Jason there. What if the elevator wouldn’t open, or malfunctioned, and the older boy was hurt? It was best to avoid it until Tim could figure out how it worked.

Jason gave him a piggyback ride up the steps, and Tim tried not to choke the other boy with the grip that he had around his neck. Tim was a great deal smaller in his human form than Jason was, and so he doubted that he could truly hurt the elder, but he didn’t want to guess and be wrong.

The feeling of soft sweatpants brushing against his new legs was strange, but Tim couldn’t say he didn’t like having the ability to move on land; or, at least, in theory. Tim had tried to walk while he was down in the cave. Obviously the others had been close by which had been useful because of how much Tim fell. He’d never had to hold himself up before. Fighting gravity was the inlander equivalent of fighting a current, except one pushed and pulled him back and forth and the other kept trying to crush him into the floor. By the time they had called it a day, Tim had been caught seven times and his legs were shaking with the exertion.

On subsequent days, Tim had gotten a bit better at walking on land, but it wasn’t by much. He also found that he didn’t really want to go back into Gotham Bay. Gravity may have been terrible, but Jason and the others couldn’t swim with him. And the idea of going into the Bay—even Bristol Beach—after the incident was a scary thought. What if the shark was still around?

They reached the last step and were met with a room that Tim could only describe as elegant. The room was lined with books and antique vases with a wooden table of some sort with a chair behind it. Tim didn’t recognize a lot of the objects that were strewn about the room, but others were familiar from when he was allowed on land earlier. Some of them looked like they could be fragile or expensive, maybe even both, and it put Tim’s stomach in knots.

“Alright, Timbo,” Jason began, “We have a couple options. I can either show you the main den, or I can show you the pool. The guys finally came to switch it over to salt water so you’ll feel right at home!”

“What is a den, and what is a pool?” Tim asked shyly.

They hadn’t really discussed him leaving the cave, but Jason seemed the most excited about the pool. Tim was a bit nervous with his new surroundings. He had liked being in the cave; it had begun to feel like home. However, Jason, Dick, and Bruce had discussed this transition as though it were an obvious progression. He hadn’t wanted to ask any questions, but Tim was starting to wish that he had.

“A den is just another room of a house. Much more comfy than the cave, promise! And the pool is where we keep water!”

Tim was confused. “Humans keep water like pets?”

“No, guppy,” Jason guffawed, “We use it so that we can swim without going into the ocean. Humans can’t fight currents as well as you mers can. Swimming pools are a lot safer for us.”

“Maybe…maybe we could go to the den for now?” Tim answered with a bit of hope in his voice.

“Sure thing!” Jason seemed a bit confused still, “Are you sure?”

Tim swallowed thickly at the question. Maybe he wasn’t just scared of Gotham Bay. He didn’t want to think about it for a while; Tim just needed to wrap his head around the accident, that was all.

“Yes, please.”

Jason seemed to sense that there was something more to Tim’s refusal, but thankfully left it alone. Instead he kept chatting about his favorite movies, and what he thought Tim might like to watch first. Apparently, there was a movie called “Encanto” that he considered a must-watch.

“But first, we need to practice your walking a bit, okay?” Jason warned, “I’ll make sure you don’t fall or anything.”

The other boy walked down the hall and into one of the rooms, Tim still hanging across his back. Again, there were a lot of objects in the room, just like the last one. However, this room had a gigantic T.V. set, a couch and plush chairs, and blankets everywhere. There was one thing that was familiar to Tim here, however. In the center of the room was a contraption with two raised horizontal bars. It acted as a way to catch himself with his arms if his legs gave out.

Jason set him down and they got to work soon after. The process was long and frustrating, but Tim knew better than to complain about the training. He needed to learn how to walk, and that meant he was going to be bad at it at first. That didn’t mean that Tim wasn’t near tears by the time a half an hour had passed. His legs had given out a few times, and after a few breaks, Tim was too exhausted and grumpy to continue. Of course he would never take that grumpiness out on Jason; he didn’t deserve that.

Tim had collapsed for the last time that day with Jason’s arms slowly lowering him to the floor.

“Alright, Timbo.” Jason wrapped him more firmly in his hold. “You did so well today, but it’s time we relaxed. What do you say?”

Tim nodded his head, but kept his eyes on the floor. He was disappointed in himself for not doing better, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Tim tried desperately to stop his lip from wobbling, but it didn’t seem like he quite managed it if Jason’s reaction was anything to go by.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright.” Jason lifted his chin with delicate fingers. “I’m so proud of you, guppy. I know this isn’t easy, and I’m sorry you have to go through this, but I won’t leave you alone. You’re ours now.”

Tim locked his arms around Jason and took a few deep breaths as he hid from the world for a little while. Life was always hard, but at least he had someone to help him manage it this time around. They stayed there for a few minutes until Jason decided that Tim would be happier in a blanket burrito on the couch. He wasn’t wrong.

Jason put on Encanto and Alfred appeared seemingly from nowhere with drinks and snacks for them. The butler had given Tim a marshmallow a few days prior, and he was absolutely enamored with the flavor. Fish had nothing on the taste of the sweet treat. Unfortunately, he apparently couldn’t live off of them, but Alfred allowed him a few every now and again. Sometimes Jason or Dick even snuck him a couple when the man wasn’t looking!

The older boy hugged him close as they both watched the film, gently braiding some of Tim’s unruly locks together and taking them out again. It had grown a lot in the last three weeks he had been at the manor. Tim guessed it had something to do with getting an adequate amount of food, but he wanted it cut soon; it always got in his eyes.

As Tim watched Mirabel find Bruno’s prophecy with sleepy, half-lidded eyes, he started to believe maybe he had found a home after all.

Chapter Text

Tim really didn’t know how he was going to keep his newest water phobia a secret. Bruce had gone to all of the trouble—let alone money—to scrub his pool clean of chemicals and make it safe for Tim to swim in. Jason had offered to take him to the pool again earlier that day, but Tim had said he wasn’t feeling well.

It was a lie, and afterward Jason had looked so concerned. The boy had put the back of his hand on his forehead? It was a strange way to show affection, but it made Tim’s chest feel warm nonetheless. The older boy had seemed like he was appeased to some degree, saying that he “wasn’t warm.”

Why him being warm would be a bad thing was beyond him. Normally, the problem was Tim being cold, but maybe it was a human thing he didn’t understand. He felt bad for lying to Jason; he did want too! But what if him being afraid of water caused them more problems? They were already giving him physical therapy almost every day. They cooked for him, helped him understand things, and they…they loved him. And he loved them.

It was killing him that he lied. What if Jason found out? Would he hate Tim if he found out that he had deceived him? He didn’t want that. If he wasn’t sick before, his nerves were certainly making him that way. As the day went on, his stomach was twisted into knots and he could barely eat anything at dinner—even though Alfred had made “Frutti di Mare” pasta with his favorite fish.

Tim couldn’t even stomach marshmallows for dessert.

Looking back, maybe that’s how the situation had gotten so dire. Normally Tim ate marshmallows to excess—they were wonderful, why wouldn’t he?—but when he told Alfred that he didn’t want any, all conversation in the room stopped. The butler frowned stoically, and this time it was Dick who put the back of his hand on Tim’s forehead.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Tim?” Bruce inquired with a crease in his brow. “We could call Arthur to make sure.”

“No, I’m alright!” Tim insisted, “You don’t need to bother him for this!”

He cringed a bit at how shrill his voice sounded. If Tim caught that he was afraid, then the rest of them surely did as well. He could barely look any of them in the eye which was as good as telling them he was hiding something. Tim had been alone for so long, he had gotten used to not having to hide things. If he was about to do something dangerous, what would his parents have cared? They hadn’t been there.

Except this was much more shameful. Tim had dealt with the horrors of Gotham Bay for almost a year by himself. He had been shot at, tangled in nets, and attacked by the creatures that lurked below the obsidian water’s surface. So why was he afraid of water? He had managed with the worst that could possibly happen. If a regular pool gave him pause, then Gotham Bay was completely out of the question now.

And really, how embarrassing was that? He was a mer. That was like a human being afraid of land. On top of being horrifyingly embarrassed with the situation, Tim had lied to Jason. What if the other boy hated him?

“Timmy, are you sure you’re okay?” Jason placed an arm around him, pulling him in close.

Normally, Tim would have relished the contact, but today he shied away from it. The other boy dropped his arm like it burned and scooted away with sadness in his eyes. Tim didn’t want him to feel bad! God, he needed to get out of there before he made things worse.

“I-I want to go to bed please.” Tim couldn’t look up from his lap.

“…Okay, Tim.” Bruce stood from his seat at the table, ice cream mostly melted. “I just want to make sure you get there safely.”

If it were possible, Tim’s stomach dropped even more. Bruce seemed nice and everything, but…adults were kind of scary. Not Alfred of course! Or Dick either, most of the time. But Bruce was an adult with a significant amount of power, and that made Tim nervous because people like that never seemed to like him much.

Tim’s legs hurt from physical therapy earlier that day, but he made an effort to walk as normally as possible. Showing weakness in front of his parents had never been an option, and he really didn’t want to find out the Batman version of that. Sure, he had been nice and everything, but true colors showed eventually and Tim didn’t want to do anything that would make them appear early.

As Tim went up the stairs, Bruce stayed behind him but let him continue without aid. He didn’t like that the hulking man was behind him—Tim was certainly slowing him down—but he made sure Bruce wouldn’t have to catch him. He clutched the hand railing like it was a lifeline and carefully planted each foot on one step before moving to the next.

He had just reached the top of the stairs when his socks skidded across the wood floors. Tim careened backwards with a startled shriek, hands clawing the air to reach something—anything—to hold on to. He mentally braced himself for a long and painful way down. Clenching his eyes closed, Tim wasn’t prepared when large hands caught him under the armpits.

“Woah, kiddo! Are you alright?”

Tim hadn’t forgotten that the man was there per se, but he was surprised that he bothered to catch him. Bruce didn’t put him down either. Instead, he swung Tim around like a rag doll and settled him on his hip. It was…It was strange, but not in a bad way. The man was almost, well, safe. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck; slowly, just in case it wasn’t okay.

The man’s footsteps didn’t make a sound down the hallway. Generally, Tim found that eerie, but today the quiet was welcome. What would have taken Tim five minutes to walk only took Bruce a few long strides. He wished he had the ability to move so confidently on land, but he hadn’t had a lifetime of practice either, he supposed.

A few moments later, Tim was settled on his bed. They had given him the room directly next to Jason’s once he could make it up the stairs by himself—or mostly anyway. Tim scooted his way to the headboard, bringing his knees to his chin with a small, miserable huff.

He expected Bruce to leave but instead the man settled on the edge of his bed, just out of reach.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong, Tim?” The man inquired, “You seem…scared of something.”

“No! No, I’m not scared!” he burst out, “I’m not.”

“Okay, buddy, okay,” Bruce insisted, “But you know we wouldn’t think less of you if you were, right?”

“I-I—” Tim sniffled.

He couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. What if he was lying? Even if he wasn’t, Tim had still messed up by insisting everything was alright! They wouldn’t like him after this, but it was clear that he would have to tell them what was actually wrong.

“You all have been so n-nice to me and…” —Tim hiccuped a sob—“and I l-lied to you. I lied to J-Jason, and what if he hates me when he finds out.”

Bruce came close and slowly engulfed him in a hug, blocking out the rest of the room as Tim continued to break down.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. None of us would ever hate you, buddy. Can I ask what you lied about?”

Tim’s response was barely audible, but the man seemed to hear it. “I don’t really feel sick.”

He could nearly feel Bruce’s confusion.

“I’m glad you don’t feel ill, buddy. Can I ask why you said you did?” Tim tensed. “I’m not mad, I just want to understand.”

“He…He wanted to show me the pool so I could swim.” Tim re-buried his face in the man’s sternum. “But I didn’t wanna swim. Every time I think about the water, I just…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You get scared?” Bruce guessed.

Tim snapped his head up, too short to be in danger of hitting the bottom of the man’s chin.

“I know it’s dumb. I’m a mer. I shouldn’t feel this way.”

“You had a bad experience. Being afraid isn’t wrong after something like that. You can always tell us if you’re scared; we won’t think any less of you.”

“But you’re Batman, and Jason’s Robin.” Tim stressed the last title.

“And we’ve both been scared before. Can I tell you a secret?” Bruce whispered before he continued anyway, “When I was your age, I was terrified of bats. When I conquered my fear, I named myself Batman.”

“Really?” Tim’s eyes widened in shock.

“Really.”

Bruce smiled softly and the skin around his eyes crinkled lightly.

“Would you mind if I invited Jason and Dick in now? They’re very concerned about you.”

The other boys stumbled into the room after Bruce finished. Jason looked a bit frazzled, and Dick hunched his shoulders sheepishly. Sometimes it was hard to believe that these were the most feared heroes in Gotham. Bruce lifted an eyebrow in mock consternation, and gave Tim another light squeeze with his arms when he shrunk away from the door. He felt more than saw Jason taking Bruce’s previous place on the edge of the bed.

“Guppy? Can you look at me please?” Jason asked softly.

Tim owed him that much for lying to the older boy. Jason had been nothing but helpful and all Tim had done was deceive him. It took him a few moments to gather the strength to do so, but eventually he lifted his eyes. There was a small, sad smile on Jason’s face.

“Hey, Timmy. You can always tell me if you’re afraid, okay? Always.”

Tim flinched, eyes in his lap, and couldn’t make his eyes return to the older boy’s.

“I lied to you and now you’re mad at me. I messed up.”

More tears hit the comforter, but Tim felt more numb than anything. Just because Jason wasn’t yelling didn’t mean the other boy wasn’t angry.

“I’m not mad, I promise Pesciolino. I was so worried you were getting sick again that it didn’t occur to me that you would be afraid of the pool.” There was a brief pause when Tim still didn’t meet his eyes.

“Can I give you a hu—oof.”

Tim launched himself at the other boy, curling up under his chin and arms wrapped tightly around his waist—or as much of Jason’s waist as his arms would allow.

“I’m sorry,” Tim plastered a cheek to the boy’s chest, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother, guppy. Never. We want you around; I want you around. You’re my little brother, and nothing will ever change that.”

Another set of arms settled around them. Tim didn’t have to look to know that it was Dick. The tension in Tim’s body faded entirely when Bruce joined in the hug as well. Jason didn’t hate him, and the others wanted him around. It took Tim a while to calm down, but once he did Dick enthusiastically suggested a sleep-over in Tim’s room for the night.

Surrounded by the warmth of his family, Tim slept peacefully through the night.

Chapter Text

At a certain point, Jason did have to go back to school and patrol. Logically, Tim knew that Jason had a life outside of him—he was Robin and everything!—but he still missed him a lot while he was gone during the day. Jason had begged Bruce to be homeschooled for the remainder of the year, but eventually both decided it was best that he started to attend Gotham Academy again.

It was okay though! During the day Alfred would teach him how to bake things—his favorite was the butler’s s’mores bars—and Dick had only worked three days a week. Everything had fallen into a routine that was soothing and natural to Tim. Jason would come home, and he would read the newest book they were reading in his English class. Once, Tim had asked him a question about the book and Jason had been so happy to explain that he started asking more questions—even if he already knew the answers.

So when Bruce stopped Jason at the door saying that they “needed to talk privately,” Tim knew that something wasn’t right. There had been a somber air in the whole manor when Jason was away for school that day; Bruce had even taken the day off at WE, but had holed himself up in his study. Alfred redirected any question that Tim asked, and Dick just put a tight smile on his face and ruffled his hair, but didn’t answer.

An hour passed and Tim heard the sound of Jason’s door clicking shut quietly. That was even stranger than anything else that had gone on that day. Generally, Jason would explain that he was busy with homework or a project so that Tim knew he wasn’t being ignored. Something told Tim that whatever had been said didn’t go over well.

He would be asking Bruce about that later.

For right now, he was going to see if Jason was okay. Luckily, physical therapy was going well enough that he could walk short distances without anyone wanting to follow him. Something about the look in Alfred’s eyes told him that the butler knew exactly where he was going. He didn’t try to stop him though, so Tim took that as an endorsement.

It still took him a few minutes to reach Jason’s door from the kitchen, but he did it by himself! Leaning forward and using his hands to balance him was a good strategy when no one was around to spot him on the steps, Tim had found.

“Jason? Can I come in?”

“One s-sec,”

Tim could hear sniffling in the older boy’s voice, but it was so slight that he might have just misheard. A few moments later, the door cracked open and Jason gave him a shaky smile. The boy was dressed in one of Dick’s gymnastics sweatshirts. It hung from his shoulders, a bit too big for him still, but it looked really cozy so Tim understood why he wore it. He did the same with Jason’s sweatshirts.

There were red rings around Jason’s eyes that looked like they had been hastily scrubbed, and his smile looked as fragile as Alfred’s fine china. Tim walked through the threshold and gave Jason the biggest hug he could. He was small, but he was determined to squeeze him tight enough to feel better. Slowly, the other boy crumpled into his hold, letting out a strangled sob.

He walked them slowly back into the room and closed the door with one hand. Jason let him go, but Tim grabbed his hand and walked him over to his bed, ordering him to sit down. That earned Tim a watery chuckle from the other, and a smile twitched at his lips. Grabbing the blanket at the foot of Jason's bed, and clumsily wrapped it around the older boy’s shoulders.

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Are you okay?” Tim flinched. That came out more blunt than he had wanted it to, but he did want to know.

“I don’t know,” Jason said, and Tim believed him, “Could…could you stay here with me? Just for a bit. I-I thought I wanted to be alone, but I don’t.”

Tim climbed onto the bed as best as his short legs would allow, and settled into Jason’s side. The older boy grabbed him by the waist and hauled him across his lap, burying his face into the crown of Tim's head. He pretended that he didn’t notice the way the other boy trembled as they sat in silence.

“My, uh, my biological mom. She died a few days ago, I guess. Bruce just found out,” Jason explained, “Sorry, this isn’t—you shouldn’t be hearing this. I’m just sad I guess. She was the only family I had.”

Well, that’s not right.

“She, well, I thought she wanted me to be her son. She didn’t.” A sniffle. “And now I’ll never get to know her, or ask why I wasn’t good enough.”

“Sometimes…sometimes no matter what, you won’t be good enough for some people,” Tim whispered, voice thick, “But we’re brothers. And I think you're great.”

Jason squeezed him tighter, gathering him closer to his chest in a protective ball. It made him sad that Jason was hurting so much; the older boy had such a kind heart. Whoever she was, she was wrong about Jason. He was the best brother Tim could have ever asked for! Tim was sorry she passed away though; Jason didn’t deserve that grief either.

Tim wiggled free of Jason’s arms, and the other boy made a questioning noise in the back of his throat. Instead of answering, Tim crawled to the nightstand and picked up Jason’s copy of Frankenstein opening it up to the marked page.

“I’m going to read to you to make you feel better.” Tim was determined, he would make Jason smile or else.

Apparently, that hadn’t been too hard considering that the boy’s responding smile had been much more genuine than the others he had shown Tim that day. He cracked the book and began reading. Tim stumbled and mispronounced some things—apparently Atlantean magic could only go so far—but it wasn’t a reading lesson for him.

“All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You purpose to kill me.”

Jason laid down next to Tim, hugging him into his side as he helped Tim sound out the words. After a while, Jason’s head fell slack on top of Tim’s own, sound asleep. Tim rearranged them so that they were lying completely flat—it was a lot of effort, but he did it!—and ran his hands through Jason’s hair like he often did when Tim felt bad. It wasn’t perfect, and things weren’t fixed, but for now the misery wasn’t so oppressive.

Chapter Text

After a month and a half with the Wayne's, Tim found himself in the cave on nights where Jason was set to patrol, but last night had been different. Nights were always hard for the dynamic duo and the various other vigilantes in Gotham. It was just a fact of life. Tim was no stranger to the horrors of Gotham, having lived in its waters for almost a year by himself, but the surface was different. Sea creatures were relatively simple, for the most part. Everyone was just trying to survive, eat or be eaten, but inlanders were different. Some hurt just for the sake of feeling strong. It wasn’t that mers were immune to this, but Gotham was just…different.

He could see the toll that it took on Jason and the others. One night, the older boy had come back with a bullet graze, and it was one of the scariest things that Tim had ever seen. They had tried to keep him out of the life after that, but if they wouldn’t let Tim go out with them, then he could at least help Alfred run the coms. Sometimes he would work on his physical therapy exercises, but most nights he would sit in a chair with Alfred and a warm blanket.

Last night had been different because Jason hadn’t come home.

There had been a feeling in the pit of his gut that day which spoke of danger. Tim had learned to listen to it over the years. Something was going to go wrong tonight; he knew it, but none of the others had listened to him. It wasn’t their fault. Bruce and the others had been taught to use logic in order to circumnavigate their fear. After a while, logic had seemed to cover up that sense of natural perception.

Jason had thought it was just his nerves. Tim hadn’t slept well the night before, and on the face of it, that was a logical, reasonable answer. But Tim hadn’t survived so long on his own by ignoring it. The older boy had given him an extra long hug that night before he had gone out with Bruce. Then he had disappeared.

Tim hadn’t slept since Jason’s com had gone offline, and he didn’t plan on sleeping again until he was found either. Dick had been tasked with “handling” him. They hadn’t phrased it that way, but it seemed like they knew something that they weren’t telling him. Did…did they not trust him? It hurt too much to think about that.

They…they had said they were all going to be a family.

Dick had dropped off to sleep next to him when he had suggested that they try to get some rest. He had refused every other time, but the man looked like he was on the verge of collapse. Tim felt the same, so he had given in and allowed Dick to shuffle him to bed. It took a half an hour for the older boy to fall asleep, but when he did, nothing was going to wake him up.

Tim knew that because he snuck out 31 minutes after they had laid down.

Bruce and Alfred were in the cave working tirelessly to find Jason. When Bruce wasn’t in the cave, he was out on the streets of Gotham searching every warehouse and bolt hole. Apparently, that was where he was at the moment because he definitely wasn’t in the cave. He had heard Alfred baking something in the kitchen, and had actively avoided the area. The man had a pension for cooking when stressed.

The steps leading to the cave were still scary for Tim to travel by himself. He couldn’t fall now though, he needed to figure out what was going on. He scooted on his butt to get down the stairs, one at a time. It was slow going, but he was met with a vicious sort of triumph at the very bottom. And his legs weren’t even tired!

Hauling himself to his feet, Tim walked over to the Batcomputer. He had seen Alfred login enough times to know what the password was, but Babs had shown him some coding and software, and Tim had been studying more during the day. He had been fully prepared to break in, but apparently it wasn’t necessary because papers had been strewn across the desk in an uncharacteristic display of carelessness.

It was sloppy; sloppier than Bruce had ever been, but Tim could understand why. It had been almost twenty-four hours since Jason had disappeared. They were running out of time—if they hadn’t already. Tim swallowed thickly and hunched in on himself at the thought.

I just found a family Tim begged, Please, don’t take it away.

Tim didn’t know who he was talking to, but he wasn’t about to sit around and allow the powers that be decide the outcome—not with something so important. As he sat at the bat computer, a story started to take shape as he pieced together the documents.

One.

There was a new villain in Gotham. Someone named “The Drowned” who was based in Gotham’s Bay.

Two

They were experimenting with magic that could transform creatures into something else. Whatever else The Drowned wanted, apparently. Sea monsters could be able to wreak havoc on downtown Gotham as easily as Atlantis.

Tim shuddered at the thought. He had heard of certain monsters that were particularly terrifying. It appeared that this was the villian who had taken Jason. Tim’s throat tightened at the thought even as his shoulders set in determination.

Three

Bruce and Aquaman were searching Gotham Bay to find The Drowned’s underwater lair.

Undoubtedly, Batman had taken the Bat Submarine; Aquaman was probably swimming into the small spaces that the other man couldn’t get to. But they were going about it the wrong way. Batman knew the streets of Gotham better than any man alive, but he didn’t know Gotham’s harbor that well—and neither did Aquaman.

They didn’t know where to look—not really. As much information as the Bats had on Gotham, there were many channels and underwater caves that he was sure they didn’t know about. The thing was, Tim had relied on the collection of that information to survive. He wasn’t strong, or fast, but he was clever. Always had been.

Tim had a few ideas about where he would look first. There was no doubt that he needed to avoid Batman and the Atlantean King, but Tim doubted they would be looking in the same places.

Hauling himself to his feet, Tim searched the benches for any supplies that he might need. He walked over to Jason’s and reached for a spare waterproof utility belt that the boy had locked away. Ever since Tim’s accident, Jason had kept a can of “Bat Repellent Shark Spray” in the upper most pocket. It could spray underwater which had been an idea that Tim had given to the older boy when the idea had been posed.

It wasn’t common knowledge, but the Batcave had underwater access from Gotham’s bay that used a network of tunnels. There was a dock of the submarine, but otherwise it was completely open for use. Slowly, taking long, deep breaths, Tim crept to the side of the water. Tim was trembling.

I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Bruce meant when he suggested exposure therapy

It didn’t really matter. Jason needed him and Tim wasn’t about to let his brother down. Strapping the utility belt over his shoulder—it definitely wouldn’t fit around his waist—Tim took one more deep breath before he let himself fall over the edge and into the cold, black waters.

Chapter Text

Seeing his scales for the first time in over a month was…strange. He sported a new scar to add to his sadly growing collection from the shark bite, but he supposed it wasn’t any different than the others. At least this one ended with him finding a family. Tim took a moment to graze his hand over the darker red scales. The normal color of Tim’s tail was a rich burgundy, but the scarred scales seemed to grow back in almost black.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Tim began to swim out through the underwater passages. He hadn’t realized how much he had taken warmth for granted these days, but it didn’t matter. Swimming to find Jason would warm him, even as his blood felt like it was pulsing more sluggishly through his body.

He was surprised at how strong of a swimmer he managed to be despite the fact that he hadn’t been in the water for a while. Walking and general gravity was still ridiculously hard for Tim, and it was actually kind of nice to feel confident moving around again. He still clutched the shark repellant in his hand with an iron grip, eyes skittering from one shadowed corner to the next, preparing for danger. Tim hadn’t really been afraid of the water, he realized, but what was in it.

He noticed the second that the underground caves gave way to open water. A wicked current pulled him sideways, nearly slamming him into the cliffs. Two months ago, he wouldn’t have had the strength to fight it like he did now, but regular meals and physical therapy had served him well. His tail caught the current and redirected it, pushing him forward and away from the sharp rocks and deeper into the dangerous waters.

The thing that made Gotham Bay so strange was the number of small crevices that opened into even larger caverns. When Tim had been scoping out a place to live, he had stumbled on a few of them before settling on something much smaller. Being encased in rock, paired with a small entrance, gave Tim the security of knowing no large predators could get into his den.

Sure he had explored many of them for the first few months he had stayed in Gotham, but he had stopped on one memorable occasion. Tim could still remember it like it was yesterday. When he had snuck through the cracks in the cliff side, the water had smelled strange—disturbed somehow—like that one time Tim had found a dead whale on the ocean floor. It had smelled something like decay. And that was before he had seen the green glow that emanated from the center of the cave.

Tim had snuck out and decided that whatever he had disturbed was nothing he wanted to be involved in. His priorities had been finding food and staying alive. Whatever had been there didn’t seem like it was conducive to either of those goals. He had steered a half a mile clear of it as a general rule, but he had never seen anyone go in and out of it. Tim supposed there could have been a back entrance or a magical way in—the crevice he had snuck in had been only slightly larger than him after all—but the sinking in Tim’s stomach told him he had to go back.

His grip tightened on the repellant, and Tim snuck a spare batarang out of his bandolier Jason’s utility belt. He was going to find and save his brother—creepy caves and caustic green pits be damned. Tim didn’t know who this “The Drowned” woman was, but she wouldn’t get away with this.

Steel replacing fear, Tim continued. It had been a long while since he had traveled to this portion of Gotham’s deep, and it was slow going at first. Keeping one palm on the rock wall and the other ready to strike, Tim searched for any irregularities in the structure. He had seen Aquaman and the Bat Submarine a few miles out fifteen minutes earlier, which had stopped some of his progress before he felt safe enough to start searching again.

…It hadn’t looked like they were searching for The Drowned at all, but seemed to be searching for a body.

Tim refused to let that deter him. Jason was alive until there was evidence that proved otherwise. The thought nearly made him lose what little he had been able to stomach since the older boy had gone missing.

There!

His hand was met with open water where there should have been stone. It was a tight squeeze this time because he had grown a bit since being at the manor, but he still fit through with a bit of room to spare. Luckily, he only had to navigate the narrow passage for a few feet before it opened up at the top of the cavern. Tim was met with the familiar smell of rot, but this time he noticed the undercurrent of malevolent magic that seemed to pulse in the space’s veins. He hadn’t really stuck around that long the last time to notice something like that.

Hiding his body between the rocks seemed like the best option for the time being. The center pool cast a green light on everything, but Tim’s darker scales would stick out like a moving target if he went in any further. He wasn’t going to risk potentially getting caught before he knew exactly what he was dealing with.

Everything was hard to see at first. Tim’s eyes weren’t used to such vibrant colors in this form, the light emanating from within the cavern reminded him of looking into the sun in his human form. Eventually though, they readjusted and Tim was met with a sight he had never expected to find.

The first thing that struck him was the number of strange, hybrid creatures that seemed to robotically patrol around the perimeter. Tim couldn’t tell if they had any thoughts of their own, or if it was some type of hive mind situation. They looked like something between crabs and humans. Tim supposed he himself was half fish and half human, but they seemed scary. Distantly, he recognized that “The Drowned” wasn’t anywhere in the cave that he could see. But those facts weren’t what really caught his eyes.

Because near the edge of the green pool, Jason was locked in a steel cage—

—And he had a tail.

Chapter Text

Okay, so Jason had a tail. It was positively menacing looking with pure black scales that caught the light and turned crimson before settling back to shiny obsidian. The tail fin was long and elegant, like Tim’s own, but Jason’s was sharper and more exaggerated. His side fins were no less sinister looking, and Tim couldn’t help but be a bit jealous of the older boy. No predator would ever take the older boy for prey.

A pang of excitement raced through him at the idea of having Jason to swim around with, but then he felt guilty. The older boy hadn’t asked for this; he was probably really afraid, and Jason was certainly trapped. Whatever else happened, Tim was going to save his brother. They could figure out the rest later--

-- Something tugged at his tail.

Hands were tugging at his tail and dragging him out of the crevice he had crawled through.

It took everything in his power not to scream bloody murder, but that would definitely give away his position. Well, it would if it hadn’t already, Tim thought wildly. He wasn’t sure he quite managed it, but Tim probably had bigger problems at the moment. Trying to catch himself on the rocks proved to be pointless. Tim got ready to fight. No one was going to stop him from saving Jason, and he had the tools to back up that conviction.

Tim was pulled directly out of the hole once he stopped fighting. Whirling in his assailant's grip, Tim brought the can of shark repellant around, bashing it into the nearest flesh he could find. The criminal yelped, and just as Tim was about to spray the repellant when another hand caught his wrist quick as a flash, yanking it away from him.

“Tim! It’s us, stop fighting!”

It took him a few seconds to recognize the two mers in front of him, but when he did, Tim let the tension in his body dissipate.

“Bart, Kon, what are you two doing here?”

After so long only hearing human languages, it was soothing to use his own native tongue. Tim was grateful for the bracelet that King Arthur had given him, but it was still different than what he was used to.

He took both of his friends by the hand, and swam them a safe distance down the edge of the cliffs, not in the middle of the water, and hopefully enough to camouflage them a bit from anyone who may have been entering or leaving through the crevice. This was a dangerous situation they had found him in, and Tim didn’t want them to get caught up in all of his mess.

“We need to be quiet. It’s dangerous out here,” Tim spoke in a hushed voice.

“Tim, what? Where have you been? You just disappeared and we had to track you here. Your parents are in Atlantean prison!”

That…That was a lot to explain and a lot to take in. Tim hadn’t even thought to ask about his parents because no one had mentioned them, and he hadn’t wanted to go back. He shook his head; there were more pressing matters at hand.

Later.

“I’ll explain later, but right now you both need to get somewhere safe.”

It was good seeing the two boys again. Before Jason and the others, they were the closest thing he had to a family that actually wanted him. Bart was buzzing the water around him, like he normally did when he was anxious or excited. No one else Tim knew could do that; he had always assumed it was a part of the mer’s magic. On top of that he could swim super fast! How cool was that?

Kon himself was stronger than any creature he had ever met in his life! His magic was super cool. Tim had always been secretly jealous of his friends for having such cool abilities. But maybe if he hadn’t been bad his parents wouldn’t have spellbound him. But even though the spell had been lifted, he still couldn’t do the things that they did. Maybe he was just weird.

If I had their powers, maybe I’d be strong enough to save Jason myself. The thought made him sad. He didn’t want to endanger them, but they wouldn’t just let him go by himself now that they had found him.

Kon and Bart had matching glares on their faces. That never spoke of anything good.

“No we aren’t. We promised to be a team, remember? Then you left, and we couldn’t find you. So we went looking!”

Neither Kon and Bart had parents, but outside of that Tim didn’t know much about their families. It was an unspoken agreement that none of them ever spoke about it. When Tim’s parents kicked him out on the nights that they were angry, he would visit with his friends and stay with them until he was allowed back. The last time he had seen them, it was clear that no one wanted him around. He had even checked in with Kon and Bart, but they hadn’t been around either. So Tim had left, rather than be a burden to the two people who ever tolerated him.

“…You wanted to find me?” Tim didn’t mean to sound so vulnerable.

“Yes!” Both boys whisper-yelled.

“Oh.” The thought warmed Tim’s heart. “…I-I think I really need your help.”

His shoulders drooped after he admitted it. The whole situation was more than he could handle alone. Tim could see that now that he was away from it all. He was scared, but Jason was in trouble, and Bruce wouldn’t have let him help. There hadn’t seemed to be a good option at the time, but maybe there was a better one now?

Tim told them a very brief rundown of everything that had happened in the last few months with the promise that sometime soon he would tell them everything—except the identities of Batman and Robin of course. He would never betray them like that.

“Wow…” Kon drew out. “That’s…that’s a lot.”

Tim was aware. He knew it was too much to ask. Kon looked scared, Tim didn’t blame him, but he seemed to flinch every time he even mentioned Batman. It was strange, Bruce was a hero, but he supposed that the man had intimidated him at first too. Then again, Tim hadn’t recognized the name either. Kon definitely had though. His tail always twitched when he was scared, and it only did that when he mentioned the name of Gotham’s most fearsome vigilante—not the seamonster he was asking them to sneak up on. It was something he would ask his friend about later.

“Yeah. I need you both to go find King Arthur and the Bat Sub. Get them back here as quickly as possible.”

“We’re not leaving you behind to break him out alone!” Kon hissed quietly.

Tim flinched away from his friend’s tone, and the other boy looked away in guilt.

“It will only take Bart to find them. He’s like super fast. And…” The boy swallowed thickly. “You said there were bars on Robin’s cage. I can—I can help with that. But you have to trust me.”

Kon looked like he was walking into his own execution.

“You don’t need to do this, Kon. I’ll go in myself.”

“You’re not going in yourself.” Both spoke as one.

They needed to stop doing that, it was getting a little weird.

Kon squared his shoulders. “Bart will find Batman and King Arthur. Let’s go get Robin.”

And really, who was Tim to argue?

Chapter Text

A weight lifted from Tim’s shoulders as he watched Bart whizz away into the depths of Gotham Bay. Despite how dangerous the waters could be, Tim was glad that at least one of his friends wasn’t going to be in immediate danger in the next few minutes.

He looked back at Kon who was waiting patiently next to him.

“Are you ready?”

Kon grinned. “I’m always ready to get into trouble, least now it’s for a good reason. Let’s get your brother back.”

Tim wrapped his arms around the other boy’s shoulders, glad to see him again. It had been far too long since he had talked with either of his friends. Kon looked the same as he always did, save for the anxious look on his face. Strong arms pulled him close and Tim let himself have the safe moment before they swam headfirst into a storm.

He put some space between them, and nodded to himself. Tim was ready for this; they were both ready for this.

As they swam through the crevice, Kon very nearly got stuck, but he managed to pull his tail through. That was going to pose a potential problem because Jason was larger than Kon, even though he was pretty sure Kon would catch up one day.

Before he had left the cave, Tim had double checked everything that was in the utility belt. He had seen Jason do the same before he went on his patrols. There was something that might be able to help with that…but he would come to that bridge if they managed to get there.

Before they made any moves, Tim let Kon understand the layout of the cave. There were a few rocks on the cave floor that the mindless creatures never seemed to check behind. Tim actually felt bad for the creatures. It must be a specific kind of boring to only patrol one cave. Though that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t come after them if they were caught.

Upon further investigation there were only six of the creatures at the bottom of the cave, and they seemed to stick to the same pattern of movement. That would definitely be helpful. Mindless goons were a great way to ensure loyalty, but a bad way to get quality, Tim supposed. It would be easier for them to get in and get out hopefully undetected.

His eyes slipped to Jason. Tim had been too distracted by the changes to his brother to notice much of anything else before his friends had pulled him out of the crevice. Now he saw that there were wicked looking spiked chains wrapped around his hands and tail even though the older boy was already in a cage. From the looks of the bars, Jason had tried to break his way out with his new appendage. Tim winced in sympathy at the impressive bruises the boy was going to sport when he changed back.

Digging into his utility belt—Jason’s utility belt rather—Tim found a set of lock picks. To be fair, he had no idea how to use them, but hopefully Jason would teach him after this. It was a useful skill! The only thing he knew was that the movies weren’t accurate—and that was mostly because the older boy always muttered it under his breath on movie nights.

Kon reached to stop his hand, looking him in the eyes.

“I can get him out of the cage and chains.” Kon’s voice was so soft Tim was surprised he heard him at all. “We’ll have to run afterward.”

The other boy knew that they only had one shot to get Jason away from The Drowned and her henchmen. If Kon said he could do it, then Tim believed him. He nodded his acceptance, and they both slowly crept to the bottom of the cave. The glowing green pool was as incandescent as ever which made everything so much creepier than it would have been. Hadn’t Jason said something about Gotham villains being extra? Tim was starting to understand what he meant.

None of the crab creatures seemed to notice them as they kept crawling here and there. The rock was just big enough to shield the both of them from their line of sight, but not much else. There was no more cover for them until they reached Jason’s cage. Tim and Kon stayed behind their shield as they gathered the courage to continue with their mission.

—The crabs broke their pattern with a swiftness they hadn't displayed before.

Why are they breaking their pattern?

Tim couldn’t answer that until, unfortunately, he could. There was a woman who came in through the main entrance, and Tim knew exactly who it was. She had legs, but Tim knew she would be able to swim just as fast as they could. Her eyepatch seemed to contain some sort of red jewel inside of it, but it didn’t radiate with any sort of magic that he knew about.

What really struck him was the mockery of King Arthur’s trident. Where Aquaman’s was a polished gold with sleek lines and elegant craftsmanship, her’s was tarnished and sharp, like the fishing hooks that Tim had found on the bottom of the bay.

He was looking at The Drowned herself. Hatred boiled his blood, but Tim kept it in check. This was the woman who had kidnapped Robin—his brother. She had changed the very structure of his DNA; she had trapped him in a cage as she experimented on him; she wouldn’t be getting away with this. He narrowed his eyes at the newcomer, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.

Tim clutched the shark repellant tightly in his fist.

Kon put a hand on his shoulder as the woman swam to Jason’s cage. He reluctantly agreed with his friend. The more information they could gather about the situation, the better off they would be. If they made their move now, they would have to contend with every villain in the cave to get Jason away from her.

A wicked smile painted her lips as she stopped a foot away from Robin’s enclosure.

“You gonna tell me why ya’ kidnapped me now? It sure as hell wasn’t cuz you thought I wanted a tail.”

Tim’s mind went blank for a moment. Was Jason speaking in Tim’s language? The woman must have given him some sort of enchantment, but…it was still odd to hear his native tongue come from Jason’s mouth. Especially because his accent was still the same.

“I have it on good authority that Batman is looking for a body, not a trapped sidekick.” The woman’s voice was every bit as cruel as Tim thought it would be.

Jason flinched at her words and all Tim wanted to do was give him a hug; the older boy had spent the last twenty-four hours afraid, he deserved all of the hugs when he got home! There would be time enough for that later. Even if they failed, Batman and King Arthur weren’t far behind them.

“You see, little one, you’re going to be my little monster. Ra’s al Ghul has allowed me the courtesy of using one of his Lazarus Pits in exchange for the destruction of Batman.”

Tim’s blood turned to ice. He had heard vague whispers of Ra’s al Ghul when the others thought he wasn’t listening.

“I’ve already rewritten your DNA, now all I need is your loyalty and, soon, your rage. I’ll finally have a sentient tool at my disposal. I get to destroy Atlantis, and Ra’s will use you to destroy Gotham.”

The woman tapped sharp fingernails against the bars, causing Jason to flinch.

“You know I’ll fight.” The older boy’s voice was resigned to his fate.

The Drowned’s laughter echoed off the walls causing both Kon and he to wince.

“And you know you’ll lose.”

As she unlocked the cage, Tim silently pulled another tool from his belt. The Drowned wouldn’t lay a finger on his brother now that they were there to stop her.

The Drowned couldn’t be too close to Jason for what he was about to do next. Before she invaded any more of his brother’s personal space, Tim struck.

“Hey Witch!”

Tim’s shout startled the woman, and she whirled around to see who had invaded the cave. That was a mistake on her part. He leveled the shark spray and unloaded the can directly into her eyes as he swam closer, finger never leaving the button. She let out a pained cry, and Tim pointed the grappling hook at her legs. The sharp point went through the meat of her thigh and lodged into the stone behind her.

“S-Seize them!”

And that was when all hell broke loose.

Chapter Text

So maybe Tim had bitten off more than he could chew. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but the stakes were definitely higher this time. The crab creatures were faster than he had given them credit for, but at least The Drowned was still pinned to the cave wall via grappling hook. That was a plus, he thought hysterically.

There were only a few feet between Tim, Kon, and Jason’s cage, but that didn’t mean he was able to cross it. Tim batted his tail at the nearest crab monster and sent it flying, but another just took its place. He was lucky that he had done so much physical therapy, his leg muscles—and by extension his tail muscles—were stronger than they had ever been. But it wasn’t enough. Tim had never fought before, at least not when he had been looking for a fight. Normally he ran and hid, but it wasn’t an option here.

“Behind you!”

Jason’s shout came just in time for Tim to feel a clawed hand punch him on the gills of his torso. Paralyzing pain seared through him as his entire body seized. Bubbles tore from his mouth and—unable to breath—another hit came his way. There was nothing left in the discarded shark spray can, and Tim mourned the loss of the weapon. The hits kept raining down.

“Tim!”

He didn’t really know who said that, but he was too busy panicking. Striking with his tail and arms didn’t seem to dislodge the creatures, but he felt the water move around him unnaturally. One of The Drowned’s minions went flying, and another was torn off his back. It was great to have some breathing room and everything, but were those lasers shooting out of Kon’s eyes?

Okay, those were definitely lasers coming out of his eyes. And they were seering away the chains that Jason was struggling against. After a few moments they broke away with a resounding clank. Tim’s vision was blocked by the creatures and he was running out of steam to fight back.

“Get away from him!”

Oh wow, Tim could see Jason’s fangs from here. It was hardly the time for that thought, but it was the only thing that really pierced the pain.

He was a little out of it at the moment. Had he hit his head? It sure hurt like Tim had hit his head. There did seem to be some blood in the water too, but that could have been from an injured crab creature…

Tim struck another with his tail, but it only batted it back a few feet before it was on him again. Kon darted from beside him and pasted it with his tail. This time, it stayed down. The power that his friend had was truly amazing, but he wondered if Kon was holding back in some way. The other boy wasn’t hurt at all—he wasn’t even winded.

More of The Drowned’s minions seem to pour in from somewhere, and Tim couldn’t figure out where they could possibly be entering from. It didn’t really matter anyway, nor were the logistics even a vague concern for any of them at the moment. Jason had always said to take life one problem at a time. Tim supposed he probably hadn’t meant crab creatures, but Tim was also willing to take life one crab creature at a time too.

They were all so busy fighting creatures that they didn’t notice The Drowned had started to free herself. A screech tore from the woman’s mouth as she snapped the grappling hook from the wall behind her. Tim could feel the vibrations radiating through him, and his head shrieked in agony.

However, it seemed to affect Kon way worse. The boy was shaking and bent over his tail like he was trying to hide from the horrible sound. Tim swam next to the boy and tried to catch his own breath from the fighting. Everything ached, especially his gills, but Tim didn’t have time to focus on it.

Jason positioned himself in front of them both protectively, reaching behind him for Tim’s utility belt. He undid the clasp and placed it into the older boy’s palm. The Drowned was swimming circles around them all, and Jason was keeping her in his sight with a fierce glare. Tim turned to Kon who was still clawing at his ears even though the sound had stopped.

“My, my, if it isn’t Luthor’s pet project,” The Drowned purred.

Kon whimpered and curled tighter. Tim wrapped his arms loosely around his shoulders, but his friend flinched away from the contact. He dropped his arms like he had been burned. Tim never wanted to make his friend uncomfortable.

“He would probably pay a handsome price to get you back.” The creature tapped a finger to her chin. “Frankly, I heard you were a failed project, but I could always find some other use for you. Imagine what havoc a Kryptonian hybrid could cause.”

“Fat chance, lady. He ain’t going anywhere with you!”

Tim didn’t know what they were talking about, if he were honest. All he knew was that Kon had grown a few shades paler as the woman had been talking. Tim’s fingers clenched into a fist, and he snapped his jaws threateningly at the woman. He would tear her apart with his teeth if she tried to hurt his best friend—and whoever this Luther person was. Sure, he was generally better at planning when he had time to prepare, but claws and fangs would do in a pinch.

“Oh? Are you going to stop me? That didn’t work out so well the last time, little monster.”

Jason gave his best innocent look—Tim had seen the older boy use it to mock Dick on occasion.

“Me? No.” Jason’s face melted into a wicked grin, showing off his new fangs. “But I’m guessing he’ll have a problem with it though.”

Before Tim could figure out who Jason was talking about, the current started to thrash violently with a power that Tim had never seen before. It certainly wasn’t natural.

Wow, I really must have hit my head.

—Because right behind The Drowned hovered Aquaman himself in all of his very conspicuous glory. Really, how had only Jason noticed him?

The king’s trident gleamed green in the light of the cave, sucking the magic directly from the Lazarus Pit and absorbing it into itself. The swirl of magic was mesmerizing to watch, and black interspersed with the emerald.

“No!” Her roar echoed through the cave as she tried desperately to swim away.

The current was far too strong for any sea creature to fight against; all of the trident’s power kept her firmly in place. Tim saw the panic in her eyes, but couldn’t find it in himself to care. The power pulsing through the cavern was practically tangible, and it felt draining to him in a way that he had never experienced before.

A moment later Jason crashed into his side, engulfing him in his arms. Tim cuddled into the older boy’s chest as he watched the rest of the green fade out of the cave. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness, but he was glad that the glow was gone.

Tim noticed that Kon had uncurled from himself, but looked hesitant to come any closer—even if he seemed like he wanted to. He reached out his hand from where it was wrapped around Jason’s waist, imploring his friend to join them; Kon deserved Jason hugs too.

God, he was really tired. Every flap of his tail felt like swimming through molasses, and his thoughts were slow when they came. It wouldn’t hurt for him to let the adults handle this one, right? Arthur was pretty much done taking down The Drowned anyway.

His brother seemed to remember that they had another guest, and Jason opened one arm and made a space for Kon right next to Tim. He could see the other boy’s hesitation through half lidded eyes, and he smiled when Kon pressed into his side. How the others were so warm at a time like this—in a cave like this—was anybody’s guess but at least they were willing to share.

Tim’s eyes slipped closed before much else could register, knowing full well that Jason would keep them both safe.

Chapter Text

Tim went in and out of consciousness for an indeterminate amount of time. Soft hands smoothed his hair back, then faded out; someone calling his name, then everything would flicker to black again. Jason was with him and Kon, and Aquaman had taken care of The Drowned.

And he was exhausted. Even on the night that he had first met Jason, he hadn’t been this wrecked. His body ached like he had been turned inside out, and every so often Tim tried to choke back a whimper. Jason and the others shouldn’t have to worry about him that much; he would be fine. Bruce and Dick had been so worried about the older boy, and they needed to make sure that he was okay too! Tim could wait while they reconnected anyway.

“Guppy—”

He couldn’t open his eyes, but whoever it was seemed to really want him to. Tim faded out again.

“—pen your eyes, Tim.”

Shadows swirled behind his eyes like whirlpools of a changing tide. Tim couldn’t tell which way was up or down, or if directions even mattered anymore.

Were…Were the others really okay? Anxiety swirled in his gut, and he really wanted to wake up now. Old memories were bubbling to the surface—things that he had tried to forget since he had been at Wayne Manor.

The currents were harsh the night Tim washed into Gotham’s Bay. He had been fighting the water with weak limbs in an all but useless struggle, but the ocean was not to be deterred. Heavy storms and merciless skies were the only thing that greeted him when Tim tried to surface. Inlanders were scary—discovery a death sentence—but he was losing too much of his strength to continue the way he had been going.

Tim was launched into visceral memories of fear, exhaustion, and pain that made it hard to discern whether it was happening again.

His body smacked against something hard, spinning him head over tail and crashing him into the sand and rocks.

“—too much magic. He needs re—”

Thrashing wildly to breach the surface, trying desperately to find an island in the storm. Waves pushing him down, down, down like it would never stop. Too much, everything was too much. He couldn’t take any more hits. The ocean just seemed to laugh.

“S-Stay away from him.”

Tim didn’t know where he was, only that he had been caught in some strange material. It—It was a net of some sort. He hadn’t had the strength to keep fighting; just letting the current take him where it may. There didn’t seem to be a single part of him that had escaped unscathed.

“—power of some sort. Probably late presentation because of the spellbin—”

There was a hole in the web. Burns maring his skin where Tim pulled himself through—the wounds angry just like everyone always was at him.

“We need you, Tim, plea—”

Everything went dark again. This time there was nothing.

Tim jolted awake like he had been electrocuted, quickly sitting up—ready to run. Heart pounding and eyes wild, he didn’t know why he was so scared, but he did know there was danger near. His eyes watered, not used to being open.

“Woah, woah, it’s okay, honey,” A voice soothed from somewhere beside him.

He—He recognized that voice.

“B-Bruce,” Tim choked, “The others! Where—I can’t—”

“Everyone is alright, Tim. You’re safe and so are they. You did well, son, but you need to relax.”

Soft blue eyes met Tim’s, but everything around it was fuzzy. He was surrounded by something, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Tim still couldn’t catch his breath, and black dots painted his vision as his chest heaved. Leaning forward with a scared trill, he collapsed into Bruce’s arms as he tried to catch his breath. Were they really okay? Kon had been afraid of Batman, and he hadn’t been there to tell his friend that he wouldn’t be hurt. Where was Jason? He needed Jason!

Bruce called over his head—Tim didn’t know what, but he hadn’t really been paying attention either. He pushed his head into the fabric of the man’s shirt, trying to drown out everything else. Bruce was speaking, but he only felt the vibrations. Tim’s body felt like it was going to shake apart, and he ground his cheek further into his sternum.

Tap. TapTap. Tap.

Gentle touches were placed on the skin of his arm. The rhythm changed every so often—just when Tim thought he started to understand the new beat. He focused on the shifting pattern, letting the rest of the world fade out of focus. TapTap. TapTap. Tap.

“That’s it sweetheart, just breathe. Jason and the others will be back soon. They‘re just finding clothes for your friends.”

His head was swimming, but Tim was starting to tread water again. He was in the cave with Bruce; the others were uninjured; The Drowned wasn’t an active threat. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Repeat.

Tim groaned and thunked his head against Bruce. It turned out to be a bad idea, and his skull twinged in pain.

“That was a bad idea,” Tim’s voice came out muffled against the man’s shirt.

A rumbling laugh emanated from Bruce. Rude. Tim lifted the man’s sweater a bit and pressed a freezing hand to his bare skin. A wicked smile painted his face as he heard the Batman himself shriek in surprise. No one was above justice—not even those that did her bidding.

Tim could feel more than see Bruce shifting, and a moment later he was swaddled in something fuzzy and warm. It was his favorite blanket from upstairs. He melted into the soothing sensation of fake fur against his skin. It was large enough that all of them could fit under it comfortably during a movie night, but when it was just Tim the throw was gigantic. There were no downsides.

He was almost asleep again in Bruce’s arms when a gentle knock roused Tim from his doze. Jason didn’t wait for a response and strode towards him with single minded purpose, determination lining his face. A pang of fear struck him in the stomach, but this was Jason. The older boy wouldn’t hurt him—had proven that he would never hurt Tim intentionally.

A second set of arms swiftly plucked him from Bruce’s hold, and plopped down gently on the bed again.

“Don’t ever do that again.” Jason’s voice was fierce, but there was an undertone of pride. “That was so dangerous. She could have killed you.”

“No.” Tim glared at the other boy, and was gratified to see the momentary shock on his brother’s face.

“You’re my brother, and I would do it again,” Tim avowed.

The other boy didn’t speak for a moment, eyes shining in the light of the Medbay. Jason blinked a few times, clearing his throat before he spoke.

“Well,”—His voice cracked—“It was pretty badass that you shot her with the grappling hook. I’ll have to use that move sometime.”

Tim relaxed in Jason’s hold with a shy smile.

“The shark spray works too.”

Jason laughed and it was one of the best things he had heard in a while. Tim had been afraid he would never get to hear that sound again.

Before the other boy could answer, two other bodies settled into the mattress beside them. Bart seemed to always buzz with energy, and this time was no different as he threw his arms around Tim. His friend seemed to mold into the open places and Tim rested his head against Bart’s. Dick looked over at him from the other mer’s side. Guilt settled over him when he saw the older man’s red rimmed eyes and messy hair.

“I’m sorry I ran away,” Tim apologized, “I needed to find him.”

Dick reached out and gently ruffled his hair. “You never have to do anything alone, Tim. You’re our family too. I’m just glad I have my brothers back safe and sound.”

Warmth settled in his chest, but there was someone missing. Tim searched the room, and he finally spotted who it was. Kon had stayed by the door, shoulder hunched in on himself. He refused to look at anyone, and Tim didn’t think he had ever seen his friend radiate such shame and fear. It made his heart crack.

“Kon?” Tim reached a hand out to the other.

Blue eyes met his own with terror and defeat. His friend took a hesitant step forward, but backed away again, shaking his head fervently.

“Bruce,” Tim whispered, “Could you go to the other side of the room please?”

The man looked at him curiously, but did as he said without question. Kon relaxed a bit, and took a careful step forward. He looked like prey in a hunter’s den, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.

Ever so slowly he creeped toward the bed and Bart zoomed to his side, pressed shoulder to shoulder with the other boy for support. Tim didn’t let his hand drop, and Dick and Jason were careful not to make any sudden movements. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce making careful tracks toward the door. Understanding had dawned on his face, even if it seemed to sadden him.

Once the man had whisked himself from the room, Kon took a deep breath. It was only then that Tim realized the other boy hadn’t been doing that. His shoulders slumped, and Kon rested on the bed next to Tim, careful to stay at a distance.

Well, that’s not going to happen.

Jason let out a small “oof,” as Tim wiggled around to enfold his friend into a crushing hug.

“They’re not going to hurt you, Kon. You’re my friend, and I wouldn’t let them anyway,” Tim spoke softly.

“B…But I’m a monster,” Kon whispered into his neck, “Batman hurts monsters; or he’ll send me back to him because that’s all I deserve.”

Dick let out a pained noise, and Tim squeezed his friend harder.

“You’re not. You’re my friend and I love you. Please don’t talk about yourself that way.”

Kon shook in his arms, and Bart hugged his other side. Together they completely engulfed the other boy. Minutes passed and his shudders began to subside. Carefully, Tim leaned back into Jason who reclined them all back onto the bed. Dick put his arm over the pile with his back to the door, shielding the rest from anyone who may have entered.

One by one, everyone started to fall asleep: Kon, Bart, and then Dick, until it was only Tim and Jason left clinging to consciousness. Tim gazed up to look at his brother, and was met with a fond look in return.

“Thanks for finding me, Guppy.” The older boy pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I’ll always find you,” Tim slurred, “Family.”

“Yeah, family.”

Chapter Text

God, Tim felt terrible. He was starting to think that this was going to be semi-permanent. His joints ached from the shift back to his human form, and Tim’s head felt like he had undergone an ice pick lobotomy. Jason hadn’t left him the entire time he was bedridden—which hadn’t been that long, but still. By the time Tim had awoken, it was only Jason and he.

The older boy was scrolling through his phone with one hand, scratching up and down Tim’s back with the other. The pleasant sensation left a trail of tingles in its wake. Despite the discomfort throughout his body, warmth settled over him, but it wasn’t because of the soft blankets.

Tim opened his eyes a little further, investigating his surroundings. Why did he always seem to wind up in the Medbay? They should probably just give him a designated bed at this point. Would it be weird if he made it Robin themed?

The room smelled as sickly clean as it always did. But Jason’s sweater smelled like Alfred’s detergent so Tim buried his nose into it. The older boy’s hands twitched to a halt and Jason let out an amused huff, tossing his phone aside.

“You awake, Timbo?”

He tightened his arms around his brother, growling lightly in the back of his throat. Tim didn’t want to get up; Jason was the best pillow there was! Plus if he got up he would have to deal with…things that he couldn’t quite remember. And that was just too much work at the moment!

Tap.

Tap.

“Rise and shine, Buddy.” Tap. “I might even be able to convince Alfred to give you a treat if you do.”

“‘Top poking me,” Tim groused.

Tap.

He whined again, this time dropping the blankets over his head. There was a moment of silence, but Tim tensed at what it could mean. Was Jason irritated with him? He didn’t want to get up, but Tim didn’t think he could handle the other boy getting angry with him either. Right before he was about to unbury himself, Jason spoke:

“I guess I’ll just have to keep all the jumbo marshmallows for myself,” Jason sighed deeply, “Or give them all to Bart and Kon.”

Wiggling weakly against the fabric, Tim tried to reach the light of day. Had they had jumbo marshmallows this whole time? And what had he said about Bart and K—

Twin pangs of worry and guilt struck him like fists to the gut. Tim had faint memories of the Kon horrified at the idea of being left alone with Batman. Where were they? Tim needed to make sure his friends knew they were safe here—

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Everything’s fine, Guppy. Deep breaths.”

Jason hefted Tim around so that he was being cradled in the older boy’s arms, curling over him almost completely. He tried to force words from his mouth, but they didn’t want to come out in English. Was his bracelet not working, or was this his panicked mind refusing to obey even the magic around his wrist?

“Kon is scared of Batman. I don’t know why, but he’s scared and I need to help him!”

Only clicks and trills forced their way past Tim’s lips, but he couldn’t help it! He needed to find them—to fix this. Tim was the only reason they got involved with the Bats to begin with.

“We know, Tim. Bruce has agreed to keep his distance for now. Bart and Kon are upstairs with Dick, settling in. From what Dick has been texting me, both boys seem comfortable around Alfred and only a little bit shy around Arthur.

Jason had just spoken in Tim’s native tongue. He pressed a hand to his forehead trying to remember why that seemed so familiar, but grimaced when another spike of pain passed through his head. Instead of speaking right away, the older boy held up his arm, showing a bracelet with a single pearl wrapped around his wrist. It was identical to Tim’s own.

“Aquaman made it for me. I…I didn’t want to keep the one she made for me. But,”—Jason looked away—“Arthur can’t undo the spell. She rewrote my DNA, and undoing it could kill me. So it would be good to speak the language.”

Jason’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears even as he still refused to meet Tim’s eyes. He had never asked for this transformation. It had to be scary and horrible. Tim could sympathize with that even if their situations were completely different. His parents had blocked a part of who Tim was, which was terrible, but it didn't seem like Jason could recognize himself any more. It ached sharply that he couldn’t do anything to make it better.

He pulled his brother into a hug—or as best as he could do with his little arms—and Jason shuddered lightly under his embrace.

"S-sorry,” the older boy whispered, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

Tim didn’t know who the boy was trying to convince, but it didn’t matter. Jason wasn’t “fine” and he had every right to be. The woman had completely rewritten his DNA; she had changed who he was without asking and forced him to live with the repercussions permanently.

“…She made me a monster.” Jason’s voice was faraway.

Tim pinched his brother’s side. Hard. A yelp pierced the air and Jason looked startled. It was the first time he had looked at Tim without shame in his eyes. He hadn’t noticed until it was gone.

He glared at the older boy with a fierce determination that he felt down to his bones. Jason’s eyes were wide with shock as he stared back.

“You’re not a monster. Never call yourself that,” Tim forced out, “Yo-you…I was dying when you found me. If it weren’t for you, I would have d-died.”

Tim looked down to where his fist was clutching at the other boy’s sweater, trying to keep his own tears at bay. This wasn’t about him; this was about Jason. He needed to say this because Jason needed to hear it.

"You were there for me when I had no one.” Tim felt his lip begin to wobble. “You help people and you never ask for anything in return… If you’re a monster then what am I?”

Tim hadn’t meant for that last part to reach anyone else’s ears, but his head was still so fuzzy, and his emotions were raw from, well, everything. God, now he felt even worse! Tim wanted to help and now he had messed everything up by adding his own insecurities to the mix.

But the thing was, Jason thought he was a monster for being turned into the very thing Tim was by nature. Did… Did Jason think he was a monster too? Had he always? Tim let his fist open, letting Jason’s sweater go, scooting away from the older boy.

Jason let out a wounded noise, and leaned forward to grab ahold of him again. Instead of pulling him into another embrace, his brother placed both hands on his shoulders.

“Guppy,” Jason said softly, “You are not a monster. It’s… I’m different now. She turned me into a deep sea mer. I know what that means, Tim.”

What? Deep sea mer were widely respected for their skills as warriors, and always had been. But they were also a peaceful group when left alone, if not a bit secretive. And interestingly, they were excellent craftsmen. High society coveted their skills in both jewelry making and weaponry. Tim had always wanted to visit one of their deep sea towns, actually. He had always been told they had a sort of ruthless beauty to them—it was sort of like Gotham that way.

All strong emotions were abandoned in favor of confusion.

"What do you think being a deep sea mer means?”

Jason sighed heavily, “They’re more violent and angry then other mer. She didn’t toss me into the Lazarus Pit. Y-you saved me before she could, but… I can feel the difference.”

The older boy fisted at his hair with one hand, the other covering his eyes. It was then that Tim noticed his deep and aggressive breaths.

"Ever since we came back I-I’ve been so angry I can barely see straight.” A tear rolled lazily down the older boy’s cheek. “I’m dangerous now, and I’ll never be any different.”

This time it was Tim who went in for a hug, but Jason flinched away. He dropped his arms.

“Saying that just made everything more real.” The sheer misery in the older boy’s voice was staggering.

“Did The Drowned tell you all of that garbage? Are the deep sea mer dangerous? Yeah.”—Jason flinched back again like he had been struck—“But so is every oceanic society. Humans too actually.”

The older boy looked like he wanted to argue, but Tim glared him into submission.

"A thousand years ago humans slaughtered each other in the Crusades, and the deep sea mers fought against Neptunia. And don’t get me started on the Atlanteans.”

Tim may be six but he had been trained in history since birth. His parent’s wouldn’t have allowed him to attend their galas with anything less than immaculate training.

“Does that make every human evil? Does that make me evil? As a whole, every society is violent and rageful, but we make choices as individuals.”

Jason’s face cycled through emotions so quickly Tim couldn’t tell what they were, but he was startled when a chuckle escaped the other.

“Are we sure you’re six? You could be an extremely tiny forty year old.”

Tim scowled, but was glad that Jason seemed to be feeling better. It would take more than a conversation to convince his brother that he wasn’t the awful things he thought about himself. For now, though Tim was content to soak up the victory.

“Alrighty, kiddo. I think it’s time we got you upst—”

Red flashing lights and harsh sirens went off inside the Bat Cave, and an aggressive rush of air slammed the MedBay doors open. There was man in the cave. Someone he had heard about, but had never actually seen before. His uniform was emblazoned with a giant “S."

Superman.

Tim had heard a lot about the hero, but the man was away on a mission in space—or at least, he had been.

As the man turned toward them, Tim was excited that he would finally meet the man he had heard so much about—even if his headache had just gone from bad to nearly unbarable. They hadn’t told him anything about the man, outside of their superhero connections, but he seemed like a nice person!

It was when he caught a glimpse of the man’s face that he changed his mind about his initial excitement.

Because Kon had been afraid of going back to someone named Luthor—he had said as much to The Drowned. And Superman? Superman looked exactly like Kon.

Chapter Text

Tim growled low in his throat, more animalistic then Jason had ever heard it. They had talked about Superman to the kid before, right? Maybe they had never shown him a picture, but the “S” symbol was pretty telling. So why was the kid on defense? Superman was a good guy. Bruce had just called him in to tell him about Kon. Surely the man had a right to know that his own flesh and blood existed?

The tricky part was, everyone knew that Kon was afraid of Batman, but the kid wouldn’t say why. He nearly had a heart attack whenever Bruce was so much as in the same room with him. Dick had tried to gently coax the truth out of the child, but it hadn’t worked so far.

Bart was glued to the other mer’s side at every moment, but they seemed to trust that Jason would take care of Tim even if they weren’t there to supervise. He was snapped from his thoughts a moment later.

“What is he doing here?” Tim hissed.

“Guppy, he needs to know he had a so—”

The younger boy let out a pained noise—like he had been struck. Jason looked down to see what had happened, but was met with something that made his blood turn cold. Tim shoved him away in disgust, tears and betrayal painting his features.

“I…I trusted you. Kon trusted you.”

Tim stumbled to his feet and out of bed on shaky legs.

“Tim, what—”

Jason was speechless as he watched the boy stumble to his feet and run for the door. He wanted to go after his little brother, but his legs wouldn’t move. Shame and guilt settled into his stomach, but Jason didn’t even know what he had done wrong! Why was Superman such a trigger for the boy? He had never even met the ma—

“My, my, if it isn’t Luthor’s little pet project.”

A horrible image was starting to take shape as he watched the little boy scurry up the steps and into the manor, leaving a speechless Superman in his wake.

“Jason, what’s going on? Bruce told me to come to the cave immediately. Said it was an emergency. I just got the voicemail!”

“I…I think this is a story that B needs to tell you.” Jason scurried from the bed and ran after Tim.

Tim raced up the stairs as quickly as he could go, a bit surprised that Superman let him go without a fight. Jason seemed stunned by the entire situation and hadn’t followed him either.

Why would Jason assume that he would be okay with this? Tim wasn’t about to hand over his friend to a monster like that! Maybe…maybe they didn’t know what the man was really like? Kon was afraid of Luthor. Jason had been there when The Drowned had mentioned him.

Tim shook his head, and focused. Aquaman, Batman, and now Superman were currently in the house. He needed to focus on a way to get his friends out as quickly as possible. It… Getting away from them all was a pipe dream. Aquaman ruled the seas, and the other heroes could find him anywhere.

But he had to try.

By the time he reached the top of the steps his legs were shaking, but it didn’t matter. He kept pushing himself despite how tired he was already. And really, how much did he have to sleep before his body would recharge? Tim needed all of his strength to get his friends out of this mess.

There were voices talking from down the hall and to the left. Bart and Kon were on the first floor then. Good. Kon could use his vision to break a window and they could try and make a run for it.

As Tim ran into the main den, he skidded to a halt when he saw who else was in the room. Both Dick and King Arthur were seated beside Bart and Kon. It looked like the men were teaching the boys how to play a card game. Maybe go fish from the looks of it.

“You okay, Timmy?” Dick’s brow creased. “You shouldn’t be straining yourself after you were so sick. And where’s Jason?”

He tried to keep his face neutral, but Tim didn’t quite manage it. Aquaman narrowed his eyes and Dick seemed even more concerned.

“I just wanted to show Bart and Kon the pool!”

Tim flinched. It was a poor excuse, but it only needed to work long enough for them to leave the room.

“Right now? Kiddo, we’re going to have dinner soo—”

“—Tim! Where are you?”

Jason! They had even less time than he had originally thought.

“Kon, Bart, get away from them!”

The boys bolted from their chairs, shoulders at their ears, and made their way to Tim’s side. Later he would definitely appreciate how much faith they had in him, but he had bigger problems at the moment. Dick and Aquaman were standing now too, faces confused and tense. Their twin bulk was blocking their path to the window, but Jason’s voice had come from down the hall! They couldn’t escape through the door either.

Before he knew it they were backed into the nearest corner. Kon and Bart were positioned behind him even if the former was much taller than he was. Jason ran into the room with Superman and Bruce at his heels.

Tim’s heart had been racing before, but now it was trying to beat right out of his chest. He didn’t know who was the biggest threat in the room, but then again maybe the room was just full of threats.

Dick broke away from the pack; he was closer than Tim would have liked.

“Hey, buddy, what’s this about?” Dick took another step forward with his palms facing out.

He scurried back further, squishing his friends into the corner.

“Stay away from them!”

Tim’s hands hurt with how hard they were clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt. God his head hurt. He pressed his palms into his eyes, hoping that it would alleviate some of the pressure. It didn’t.

“Guppy, I think I know what’s going on here.” Jason sounded almost as panicked as he was. “It’s not what you thin—”

Tim’s vision was spotted when he pulled his hands away, and he felt queasy and weak. He couldn’t hear what Jason was saying anymore. Everything was too much. All of it. Jason’s pleading, and Dick’s failed attempts at reassurance. Even King Arthur looked like he couldn’t possibly understand what Tim was upset over. God, why was life always so hard.

Jason stepped forward with Dick, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Something inside just snapped—he couldn’t tell if something broke or fell into place. But whatever it was left a shimmery, translucent bubble around them. It felt… connected to Tim somehow.

Jason placed a hand on the glittering shield lightly, eyes pleading. When did Tim wind up on the floor?

“Hey Tim?”

Kon was kneeled beside him. When did that happen?

“It’s…it’s okay, Tim. J-just let the shield down. Stop hurting yourself.”

“I don’t wanna run anymore.”

Chapter Text

God, the longer the shield was up the more it hurt. But he wasn’t going to put it down…

How was he even supposed to do that?

The agony came in waves, and Tim tried to choke back the whimpers, but he didn’t know how successful he was. He could feel the power being sucked from his body, but there was nothing Tim could do about it.

“Tim?” Bart sounded scared.

All Tim had done was put his friends in dangerous situations, and he couldn’t do anything to make it better. People were shouting, and there was a hand on the shield, and it felt like lightning was pulsing down his back.

Jason’s voice was muffled, but Tim’s mind latched onto it.

“Tim, you gotta let go! We’re not going to hurt you.” Even through the shield, he could hear the older boy’s voice crack on the last word. “Please”

He didn’t know if it was Jason’s begging or if he didn’t have anything left to give, but a few seconds later the shield fizzled out. Tim’s chest heaved as he curled onto his side.

Kon and Bart huddled close, uncertain whether they needed to protect him or not. Tim wanted to say something, anything to let them know they needed to run. But if he opened his mouth he didn’t think he could hold back a scream.

Between stretches of awareness, Bart and Kon were replaced by Bruce and Arthur. If they were just planning on taking his friend, why—

He couldn’t put together a coherent train of thought. Tim wanted to reach out to Bruce—or even Arthur, despite not knowing the man that well—but everything was so complicated. Was all of this just an elaborate plot to… to what? It didn’t make any sense. Nothing made any sense!

Tim whined into his knees.

“Make it stop,” He begged, “Please, make it stop!”

The anguish that marred Bruce’s face was genuine. His hands trembled minutely as the man reached out to him—as if Tim was going to shatter. Strangely though, the Atlantean halted the man and pulled him into his own arms.

As soon as he was cradled against Arthur’s chest, it felt like a balm had been rubbed into his nerves. Tim collapsed into the hold, letting his head loll back. He couldn’t have stopped it if he tried. Everything had hurt and then… nothing did. The relief was tangible.

Despite everything, Tim forced himself to stay awake. He… Nothing was making any sense, but that didn’t mean that Kon and Bart were safe. Consciousness was the only thing he was able to force his body to maintain, however. His muscles wouldn’t cooperate enough to allow him to search for his friends.

Arthur readjusted him in his grip and Tim was suddenly lifted into the air. He scrunched his eyes closed to fend off the wave of nausea. The crinkling of couch leather filled the room as the Atlantean sat down with Tim still held close.

“Arthur,” Bruce growled, “We need to get him back in the Medbay to make sure he’s alright.”

The King’s response rumbled through Tim pleasantly, pulling him further into the direction of sleep.

“He’ll be alright. I’m siphoning the magic from him which is causing him pain.” A blanket was tossed over Tim, but he couldn’t move to see who it was. “His magic is lashing out because he’s afraid. We need to address that fear.”

“And then he’ll be okay?”

That sounded like Jason, but he had never heard the older boy sound so defeated. It made Tim’s heart crack but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

As everyone kept talking, their words began to lose all meaning. Words weren’t making any sense and just seemed to roll off of everyone in waves. He could practically feel the stress in the room, but Tim couldn’t stop whatever was going to happen next. Gotham Bay hadn’t made him feel this powerless.

Tim just wanted everything to be alright; he needed everything to be alright. Fingers scratched at his scalp, trying to ease some of the tension from his frame.

Everything drifted after that.

To say that Clark was confused was an understatement. His mission in space had gone well, and he had been excited for the extravagant dinner he had planned with Lois that night.

Those plans had changed when he was met with a voicemail from Bruce—not Batman, Bruce—upon his re-orbit. Gotham’s most famous billionaire was a stoic man by nature, despite his public persona. And if something went wrong, his intelligence and cunning were generally enough to solve the situation. But the man had sounded weary on the phone—

—And he was asking for his presence in the Bat Cave.

So despite his dinner plans and a much needed rendezvous with his bed, he had traveled to the cave immediately. Bruce never asked for outside help with Gotham. The fact that he had received a phone call from the man under the mask was nothing short of terrifying.

What if Nightwing had died? What if Robin had died?

What he had found instead was relieving at first, but had drastically elevated into something much worse. Who were these kids? Why were they so afraid of him specifically?

…And why did one of them look exactly like him when he was a little kid?

Aquaman was holding the sick kid in his arms and it seemed to be helping with some sort of magical issue while Bruce and Jason hovered nervously nearby. Dick seemed to be sticking around the other two children in the far corner of the room.

“He’ll be alright, Jason. But eventually I think an Atlantean doctor should take a look at him. This might be normal for victims of spellbinding, but we should make sure.”

Clark was still buzzing with unused adrenaline. The situation was wrought with a strange energy that he couldn’t place. What was everyone so afraid of? Batman had the tendency of being scary, but not to kids. The man had spent the better part of his life making sure that children always felt safe when he was around.

“Not to interrupt,” Clark interjected, “But could someone please tell me what’s going on here?”

It seemed like everyone had forgotten that he was in the room because they all turned to him at once with surprise on their faces. The room fell completely silent like no one knew where to begin.

Except after a few moments the kid in the corner—the one who looked exactly like him—stepped forward, even as the child with red hair tried to pull him back.

“No, Bart. I… It’s time.”

The kid walked towards him like he was walking towards the gallows. The redhead—Bart—looked confused and terrified, and Clark really wanted to give one of these kids a hug because it looked like every one of them needed it—even Nightwing. Bruce already had his arms wrapped around Jason, Aquaman had Tim, and Nightwing had scooped up Bart in the second it took Clark to process what was happening.

In a few halting steps the kid was standing before him, staring down between his feet, and then he was kneeling in front of Clark like he was going to be killed. Nausea tore through him and full-body shuddered wracked the kid’s small frame. He couldn’t be any older than eight.

He’s afraid of me, Clark realized, All of these kids are afraid of me.

The thought knocked the air from his lungs. The next thing he knew, Clark knelt down in front of the boy, desperately wanting to correct whatever idea this kid had about him.

“You’re Superman,” the boy whispered.

“I am,” Clark agreed, “And I don’t hurt kids.”

“Not innocent ones.”

“Not at all. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I’m not going to harm you.”

The boy shifted and hugged his legs to his chest, hiding as much as he could. His next words were mumbled into his knees.

“He wanted me to help him, but I didn’t wanna, I swear! So… S-so I ran. And I’ll go! I promise I won’t hurt anybody! But I can’t go back there. You’ll never see or hear from me again.”

Bright blue eyes looked up with glittering tears, begging to be believed.

Clark tried to reach out, a force of habit really, but the boy scrambled away, shoulders at his ears.

“Whoa, hey it’s okay. I promise you that I won’t hurt you.”

He paused, keenly aware of all of the eyes on him.

“No one is going to send you back. We’ll protect you.” Clark would do whatever it took to keep this boy safe; he had decided the moment he had laid eyes on the scared children. “But buddy, we need to know who to protect you from.”

His heart squeezed again as all the fight from the kid drained at once. It was as though he wasn’t even trying to protect himself anymore. Instead, his shoulders drooped and he met Clark’s eyes. It struck him then, just how tired the boy looked. Like he had nothing left in the world to lose, and he was tired of fighting for something that was already gone. If it was ever there to begin with.

And Clark had been there before, not too long ago, but he was an adult who had made his choices. This was a kid who had never asked to fight someone else’s battles.

That didn’t mean he was prepared to hear the answer, even if he should have been.

“L-Lex Luthor.”

Chapter Text

Kon knew that this would happen eventually. Mr. Luthor had told him how much Superman would hate him. He told Kon just what Superman did to people he hated, and just what he himself was capable of. The pictures of destroyed buildings and terrified civilians flashed through his mind. Kon was capable of that level of destruction too.

He didn’t want to be though! Kon just wanted to be normal…

“But buddy, we need to know who we’re protecting you from.” Superman didn’t seem mean like Mr. Luthor had said, but sometimes it… wasn’t always obvious.

“L-Lex Luthor.”

The shock that bolted through the man’s eyes at his admission made Kon flinch away, eyes to the floor. His entire body was trembling and tears made tracks down his face. Whatever the man was going to do, Kon just wished that he would do it already. He had been running for so long— he was so tired of it.

“Kiddo, I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

Right, sure he wouldn’t.

Mr. Luthor had said the same thing, but it hadn’t been true.

“Can you tell me your name? Mine is Clark, Clark Kent.”

Kon raised his eyes to the man again, wide with shock. Why had the man told him that? Kon couldn’t be trusted with that kind of information! What if Mr. Luthor found out—

“Woah, hey buddy, it’s okay.” — Why did Superm— Clark Kent— seem so confused by Kon’s panic? This man is a new sort of stupid— “No one is going to hur—”

“—Why would you tell me that?” Kon blurted, but he couldn’t stop. “What if he finds out! You can’t tell people these things.”

Blue eyes, a perfect match for his own, looked determined. “I think my secret is in good hands,…?”

“K-Kon.” He looked down at his folded hands. “My name is Kon-El.

“O-Oh?”

Right. Who else would know Kryptonian than Superman himself? Shame and embarrassment gripped him. Tim and Bart had never had a chance of knowing what his name meant, and Kon had never told them. There was an awkward pause as the room fell completely silent, everyone else looking on in confusion.

“Mr. Luthor thought it was fitting.”

He hadn’t meant for his voice to come out so small, but Kon had been emotionally and mentally stripped bare by facing his would-be enemy. The man hadn’t even used his superpowers and he had brought Kon to his knees, afraid and alone. Neither of his friends would talk to him again after this, he knew it.

Dick spoke up from the corner where he was still holding Bart. “Why would the name be fitting? What does it mean?”

Clark hesitated, looking distinctly uncomfortable. The man, despite what Luthor had said, didn’t ask for Kon; he didn’t ask to be cloned, or to have that clone used against him. It didn’t seem fair for the man to have to explain this too.

“Abomination,” Kon rasped painfully, “Abomination in the house of El.”

*****************************************************************************************

“Abomination,” The boy said, “Abomination in the house of El.”

Luthor is a fucking monster.

It took everything in him, not to growl at what the boy had told him. In fact, Clark was so angry that it took him a full minute before he realized just what the boy had told him. “Abomination in the house of El.” The anger didn’t fade so much as it was mixed with sudden understanding.

This…

… This child looked exactly like him.

Was… Was this his son?

Somewhere deep down, Clark had known as soon as he had laid eyes on the boy. How could he be anything else? But… But how had this happened? Did it even matter how? It certainly didn’t seem to matter much right now.

“Are you… are you related to me?”

Clark had to know; he had to hear it said out loud. How long had he had a son he didn’t know about? How many birthdays had he missed? How long had this child been with that madman, hurting and alone?

If what he suspected was true, then the boy should stay with him. But Ko— Connor, this child was not an abomination— was afraid of him right now. And he couldn’t blame that on the kid. Who knew what type of things Luthor told him about Superman? Though, he supposed that maybe he didn’t have to try too hard considering the boy had thought he was going to be hurt.

“He created me three years ago,” he explained to the floor, “With half of his DNA and… half of yours. He aged me rapidly, and gave me knowledge, but it was done in stages. He named me ‘Kon’ because of… everything.”

And Clark was an idiot because he hadn’t said this first:

“You are NOT an abomination, kiddo. He was wrong.”

That must have been the last straw for the small boy in front of him because the kid began shuddering with silent sobs. It made Clark’s heart ache to see the boy so distraught over a few kind words. He wondered if he even believed him. It might take time, but Clark vowed that he would change the boy’s mind about himself.

“Can I give you a hug?” Clark wanted to hide this— his— child away from the world forever. “It’s okay to say no—”

The boy slammed into him, hiding his face in the “S” on his chest. Carefully, Clark wrapped his arms around the boy as tightly as he dared. Cradling the kid in his arms carefully, he rocked Connor back and forth as he hid. Had he been this small as a kid? He couldn’t ever remember being so fragile looking.

Despite everything that the boy was, above all else he was a child— his child. Clark didn’t know all of the horrors he had faced, but he would keep him safe or die trying. Listening carefully, he began to memorize his son’s heartbeat— the lulls and beats and the feel of it against his chest. Slowly, carefully, Clark placed a gentle kiss to the crown of the boy’s head. His eyes fell shut, breathing and taking in the moment.

“Y-You’re not going to hurt me? Or… or throw me in Blackgate?”

A wounded noise tore from Clark’s chest. He had faced all manner of horrors in this world, faced entire armies, and nothing had managed to hurt him as much as Connor’s words.

“Never.”

A sniffle, the sound of a sleeve rubbing the end of a dripping nose, and the steadier rhythm of a heart met Clark’s ears. Black hair tickled the bottom of his chin, and he looked down to find baby blue eyes looking hopefully into his own. It was tentative to be sure; his son wasn’t ready to trust him just yet. But there was hope behind the boy’s eyes that hadn’t been there before— like maybe he was willing to try if Clark meant what he said. He had never felt more like Superman in his entire life. Clark would earn his child’s trust, day-in and day-out for the rest of his days if he had to.

Connor nuzzled into his chest again, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist. Something settled deep in his chest; some ache that he hadn’t realized was there. Taking in a deep breath, Clark looked up to see that the room had mostly cleared out. Only Bruce and Dick were left, smiling softly at the two of them from their place at the door. It wasn’t often that the older vigilante smiled like that, but it calmed some deep, fatherly panic that was beginning to brew in the pit of his stomach.

Clark nodded at the two of them silently, thankful. He… He hoped that Connor wouldn’t be so scared around him after this, but he was grateful that they had stayed with them to be sure. The two vigilante’s nodded back and disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, their heartbeats still sounding in his ears.

“Can…” the boy trailed off.

Clark hummed, prompting his son to continue.

“Can we go see Tim and Bart? I don’t wanna leave them ‘lone.”

Trust, Clark knew, was like building a house; the journey happened one brick at a time.

“Sure, buddy. As long as you try to get some rest too, okay? It’s been a long day.”

He was rewarded with another shy smile, less tentative than the last. Clark warned the boy before he lifted them both from the floor. Arms snaked slowly around his neck, giving a slight squeeze before they released into a relaxed hold. This… This felt so incredibly right.

As he wound the path back down to the Batcave, Conner dropped off to sleep in his arms. Clark looked forward to learning everything about his son. He would give the boy a choice, of course. If Kon wanted to stay with someone else, then he would respect his choice— even if it killed him inside. But if Connor wanted to stay with him… If Clark was that lucky… then he would give him a better life than the one he had undoubtedly had with Luthor. A life with joy, and peace, and Ma Kent’s famous apple pie.

For now though, he was content to hold his sleeping son.

Chapter Text

Tim had been staring at the ceiling for a while. Time didn’t exactly seem to mean much in the Med Bay. The windows only provided a glimpse at the rest of the Batcave, providing no sunlight to measure the minutes. There were 487 tiles on the ceiling— if you included the one that was mostly chipped away in the corner. Apparently, Dick had thrown a stray batarang when he was bored, and the tile had been the unlucky recipient of the point edge.

Everyone was asleep around him. Tim noted how strange it was to be in a medical cot, but being the only one awake. There was a first for everything, he supposed. His eyes drifted to Kon and Superman in a nearby chair. The other boy was more relaxed than he had ever seen him, head resting against the “S” symbol on the man’s chest. Superman was curled protectively around him in a way that made his heart ache. It reminded him of his own family who was asleep in the same room.

Tim had definitely read the situation wrong, if the scene before him was anything to go by. He had seen the resemblance between the mer and the man, and had judged the situation based on an assumption. Guilt settled deep in his stomach at the thought— not because of his unfair treatment of the newcomer— but because of how devastated Jason had looked when Tim was afraid of him.

His gaze flitted away from the eggshell tiles and to the boy in question. Normally, normally, Jason would be on the bed with him, rubbing soothing circles into Tim’s back and telling him that everything would be okay. Instead, Jason was pressed into Bruce’s side, eyes red and puffy from crying. He looked like he had been hit by a train. Normally, Tim wouldn’t have been so vain to think that he had caused it, but after The Drowned Jason hadn’t looked quite this bad.

A form shifted beside him and brought Tim’s attention to Dick and Bart, who were pressed on his left side. Bart was resting directly on top of the man’s chest, and an arm was curled over Tim protectively. He must have scared Dick more than he had thought when he went to find Jason. King Arthur was in a plush chair at the foot of the bed, head tilted back at an uncomfortable angle with a slight snore.

Frankly, Tim was tired of laying in Bed. It had seemed like that was all he was capable of doing for long periods of time, but he was struck with the sudden urge to stretch his legs. Carefully, Tim peeled himself from the bed, using the edge to support his weight until he was sure his legs wouldn’t crumble. It spoke to everyone’s exhaustion that there wasn’t even a twitch from anyone in the room.

A shiver raced up his spine at the cold, damp air. Gently, Tim plucked a discarded blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. It wasn’t as nice as one of Jason’s hugs, but it would have to suffice.

He took the steps to the manor one at a time. There was something about the cave that seemed oppressive in that moment. Maybe it was the way that the bats screeched, or the memory of events in the last few days, but he couldn’t stay there just then.

He marveled at how far he had come once he reached the top. There had been no one to catch him, but he had done it anyway. A glimmer of pride warmed him as he silently closed the grandfather clock behind him. Tim didn’t know where his feet were taking him, just that they seemed to have a specific direction in mind. He let them go where they wanted to without much thought.

Apparently, his legs wanted food.

That was the only reason he could find for wandering to the kitchen, though, as he thought about it, the presence of the old butler helped too. He hadn’t seen Alfred since he had gone to rescue Jason. Something twisted unpleasantly in his gut. What if the man was angry with him? Or worse, disappointed? Tim didn’t regret what he did— he would do it again if he had to— but he hadn’t meant to put undue stress on anyone.

“Master Tim, you should be in bed.” The old butler hadn’t turned his back from where he was finishing up the dishes.

“I… I think I messed up Alfred,” Tim stuttered quietly from his place by the door.

The man wiped his hands on a nearby dish towel, concern creasing his eyebrows as he looked Tim over. He didn’t have many physical injuries, just what had happened in the fight with The Drowned. Tim would be fine— he was fine. So why did nothing feel that way?

A sob tore its way from his throat before Tim ever realized it was going to happen. The butler strode from his place and gently swept Tim into a warm hug. He couldn’t recall if he had ever been hugged by the man, but this was different than Jason or Bruce or Dick. Alfred’s hugs felt like they were lending him the man’s own strength.

“You were defending your friends and family, Master Tim. There is no shame in that. We do the best that we can with the information and experience that we have. I’m proud of you.”

And if that was meant to make him stop crying, it seemed to have the opposite effect. Tim couldn’t remember the last time someone had told him that he made them proud. But he had made Alfred proud, and another wave of tears washed over him at the sentiment.

Tim didn’t know how long they stood there, Alfred whispering soft words of affirmation while he did his best not to break apart, but eventually the man scooped him up and placed him gently on the large comfy couch in the library. The soft faux fur blanket was warm and pleasant against his skin while Alfred prepared him a snack in the kitchen.

He had almost dozed off again when he heard a tentative voice. “Tim?”

Jason. Tim wanted to run over and wrap his arms around his brother’s middle until the world didn’t seem so scary anymore, but he couldn’t muster the energy to move. The older boy moved further into the room, kneeling in front of Tim’s place on the couch. He didn’t say anything, just rolled to the edge and placed his head in the crook of Jason’s neck.

Arms reached around his waist, lifting him into the older boy’s chest. Sliding in behind him on the couch, Jason sighed deeply. Tim didn’t say anything, just let himself breathe in the moment, safe and sound.

“Gotta stop runnin’ off like that, Guppy.” Tim felt the words more than he heard them.

“Wanted to clear my head. I… I messed up didn’t I? Superman isn’t mean?”

“Superman, Clark, won’t hurt Kon. He won’t hurt you. I’d never allow him near you— either of you— if that were the case.”

Tim curled up further, ashamed.

“Hey, hey, no one is mad at you. You… I…” Jason stopped, wrapping his arms tighter around him. The older boy settled his forehead against Tim’s crown.

“I love you, kiddo. You’re my brother, and it’s… it’s hard seeing you hurt like that. I just want you to be safe, Tim.”

Warmth settled into his chest. Relief and safety were making him drowsy again. “I love you too, Jason. You’re the best big brother ever. Thanks for saving me.”

A hand scratched at Tim’s scalp soothingly, and Tim shifted to cover Jason with some of his blanket. The other boy should be warm too, but Tim didn’t want to leave him to go and grab one.

“You know, Guppy,” Jason whispered, “You saved me just as much… Sleep well, kiddo.”

He was awake just long enough to see Alfred throw another blanket over both of them this time.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Jason was fidgeting with his hands; Tim knew he was nervous because Jason was never one to fidget with his hands. His brother always seemed to carry his emotions in his shoulders— generally speaking, that was. When he was annoyed, they would tense; when he was embarrassed they would collapse in on themselves.Truth be told, Tim was supposed to be helping set up the pool party, but his friends had him covered.

It had only been a week since The Drowned had been defeated and— surprise, surprise— Tim had been confined to bed rest most of that time. Luckily, Kon and Bart were willing to help him sneak around for marshmallows and entertainment. Alfred had caught them with an amused arch of his eyebrow, but had promptly let them go without comment. It was only when Dick started to catch him sneaking around that the older boy had suggested a pool party. Summer was fast approaching and it was a gorgeous day in Gotham— one of very few. So the others had called some friends and they would be arriving within the hour.

Everyone had been excited about the party— even Jason who was still wary of his new form. Which was why Tim had found it a bit strange when the other boy had started to fidget in place when he had been helping set up the lawn chairs. He had tried to ask his brother what was wrong, but had only been met with a fake smile and a promise that “he would be fine.” Tim noted the difference. “He would be fine” and “He is fine” were completely different. So he had kept an eye on Jason from afar.

That was how he ended up on top of a curio cabinet in the dark corner of the library. Now, at face value, it didn’t make sense. However, Tim had seen Jason eye the door earlier— a telltale sign of his intended location— and had snuck in before Bruce and Jason had entered the small room. He had grown to trust Bruce, but he didn’t trust the man more than he needed Jason to be okay.

As father and son entered the room, Tim couldn’t help but swallow thickly at how high up he was. It was better for concealment, sure, but he would need to call Kon to help him down when this was over. If Tim had to stay on bed rest again for a broken leg, he would mutiny. Though, it was a minor miracle he had shimmied up the side without any serious mishaps anyway.

Tim crept further into the deep shadows as Bruce began to speak, the concern in his voice palpable.

“Is everything alright, Jaylad?”

“I, um, well… It’s nothing bad.” Tim wasn’t used to seeing the older boy quite this nervous and unsure. Judging by Bruce’s face, the man was confused too.

“If the pool party brings up negative connotations, we can call it off—”

“—No!” Jason winced at his own volume. “I mean, it’s not that.”

“Just—here!” Jason thrust forward a familiar metallic object at the man with little fanfare but incredible insecurity. He seemed like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. “Happy late birthday, or whatever.”

The boy blushed and looked between his feet, as Bruce cradled the watch in his hands. It was the one that had begun it all. Despite the incredible pain that had followed, Tim would be forever grateful that Jason had flung the timepiece into the sea. As the moment of silence stretched, he could hear a faint ticking noise coming from the once-broken heirloom.

When Bruce looked up, his eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Thank you, Son.”

The man closed the distance between them, and gathered Jason into a strong embrace. It was a testament to the boy's relief that he sunk right into the comfort, and Tim knew that everything would be alright. It struck him, just how much they had all grown together in the last few months. If someone had told Tim six months ago where he would end up, he probably would have laughed at them. Family had never seemed to be something that stuck for him, but this time? This time was going to be different— he knew it.

Tim looked around at his immediate surroundings as the two below continued to share their special moment. It was only then that he noticed the cobwebs and dust that decorated the surface of the cabinet. He supposed that Alfred, though incredibly adept at multitasking, would not have time to clean something so high up. A tell-tale tickle began in his nose, and Tim tensed.

Oh NO—

—A sneeze tore through Tim’s entire body with a force that nearly sent his soul scurrying from his body. By the time he gathered his wits again, Bruce and Jason were standing at the base of the cabinet, hands on their hips and matching expressions of amusement. It would have been comical if Tim hadn’t just been caught eavesdropping red-handed.

“How long ya’ been up there, Timbo?” Jason drawled. The twitch of his lips showed that he wasn’t angry— only amused.

“Would you believe I teleported here by magic a few moments ago?” Tim asked hopefully.

Bruce chuckled with a shake of his head. “Of course, buddy. But since we’re here, would you like a hand down?”

“… Yes, please.”

Bruce was tall enough to just reach the ledge, but Tim would need to lower himself into his arms. He swallowed thickly… It was a long way down. He crept closer to the edge, but couldn’t stop himself from backing away a bit when he saw the floor.

“I’m here too, Guppy. Neither of us will let you fall.”

Jason’s eyes were sincere; his big brother had never lied to him. No, they wouldn’t let him fall, would they? Tim hung his legs off of the edge, and looked to Bruce. The man smiled and nodded. It was all Tim needed to let himself slip off the edge.

“Gotcha!” Bruce snatched him from the air, bundling him into his side with one arm.

“We’ll talk later about why you were hiding in the library.” Bruce seemed more curious than anything else.

“Jason was nervous; the library makes him feel safe. Sooner or later he’d be there.”

The older boy blushed, but reached out to ruffle Tim’s hair. “Looks like we’ve got a baby detective on our hands, B.”

There was something knowing in Jason’s eyes, but he couldn’t quite place what it meant. That was okay though! They had a party to prepare for, and Tim was excited to finally try the salt water pool.

Chapter Text

“Cannonball!”

Tim had just opened the screen door when he caught sight of Dick’s head sinking into the pool. Water launched over the side, soaking King Arthur’s jeans perfectly, and he did his best not to laugh. Judging by the mock betrayal on the man’s face, he didn’t quite manage it.

By the time Bruce, Jason, and he made it outside a few unfamiliar guests had already joined their party. Tim shifted further into Jason’s side as new eyes settled on him in curiosity. His older brother placed an arm around his shoulder and squeezed him protectively.

“Yo Dickface!” The man in question whipped his head toward Jason, as he hoisted himself over the side of the pool. “Come introduce your friends so they stop scaring the baby!”

“‘M not a baby,” Tim mumbled.

“You’re right. You’re our little Guppy.” He pouted when the older boy ruffled his hair.

Jason walked him slowly over to the strangers. Tim noted that he didn’t seem wary of them; that was a good sign at least. It was interesting actually, the strangers all had red hair. Did Dick have a quota to fill or something?

“Howdy, folks!” Dick’s hair was dripping wet and he flashed a thousand watt smile. “Wally, Kori, Roy, meet my littlest brother Tim. He washed up on shore a few months ago and he’s ours now.”

The trio looked among themselves for a few moments, until the redhead in the baseball cap blurted, “More kidnapping?”

“Can it, Harper. Don’t you have a couple of sticks to go play with or something?” Despite the harsh words, there was a small grin on Jason’s lips.

“Sure beats the hell outta gettin’ caught stealin’ rims, short stack.”

As the two continued to exchange light-hearted barbs, Tim looked around for Kon and Bart. They were both parked over by the snack table that Alfred had set out. As he looked closer, Tim saw a large bowl of marshmallows. Heart set, Tim excused himself to sit over by his friends, leaving the arguing to the professionals.

By the time he reached the table Bart had already found the Sour Patch Kids. Tim shuddered a bit at the implication. Kon side-eyed their friend as he vibrated in his chair. Tim grabbed a handful of marshmallows and sat down to watch the chaos unfold.

“OhmyGodthesearesogoodhaveyoutriedthemyet?”

“They’re all yours, Bart.” Kon laughed even as Tim tried to make sense of everything the boy had said.

Even as they all laughed and joked together, a twinge of sadness crept into Tim’s heart. Kon was set to move to Metropolis with Clark, and there had been talks about Bart moving to Atlantis with Arthur. Both of his friends possessed super speed, but it wasn’t the same as having them here with him. These two were his family when he had nothing. Some part of himself, uncomfortably close to the surface, was afraid that they would forget about him. They would have lives of their own, families of their own. Though Tim supposed that he did too. Maybe… But…

… But they had tracked him down, helped him fight, when he was alone and in danger. They didn’t have to help him defeat The Drowned, or stay with him while he healed. They had done it anyway because they cared about him. As he watched Kon toss more sour candy into Bart’s mouth, Tim figured maybe that type of loyalty didn’t just fade. They were a part of his family and he would make sure that it didn’t, even if he had to circumnavigate the globe to do it.

“Hey, are those Sour Patch Kids? Those are the best!” The newest, shortest, redhead— Wally?— walked over to them.

What happened next was something that Tim wouldn’t have guessed in a million years. Bart and Wally started speaking so fast that it appeared even Kon couldn’t keep up. Both vibrated in place, hopping up and down excitedly, while their bodies seemed to appear and disappear at will. Tim and Kon exchanged an exasperated look as the scene unfolded.

“—believethere’ssomeoneelselikemethat’ssocool!! I’ll race you!”

Tim only managed to catch the back half of the conversation, but it piqued his curiosity all the same. Bart was quick— quicker than any being he had ever seen. But so was Wally, it seemed. They even had matching red hair. Honestly? They could be related. As if to prove his point, both boys zoomed away, quick as a flash, and it seemed like they might be at it for a little while.

“I can’t believe there’s another one.” Roy mumbled as everyone sidled up to the table. “Wonder if they’re related.”

Everyone took their own chairs, kids on one side and adults on the other.

Well, adults and the big kids who were fooling themselves, Tim thought.

Bruce considered Roy’s question with a calculating look, “Stranger things have happened, and it’s not an ability I’ve seen elsewhere.”

“Regardless, they certainly seem to get along well enough.” Clark raised his eyebrows as he watched where the boys were zipping in and out of sight in the backyard. If Tim knew Bart, and he did know him, then he had roped Wally into a game of tag.

A moment later, both boy’s collapsed into chairs beside each other, out of breath and grinning like loons. It struck him how much smaller Bart was in comparison to Wally, despite their similar demeanor. Tim guessed that the man was in his early twenties like Dick was. It made sense after all; they were his friends. Though Jason and Roy seemed to be friends too— they hadn’t stopped ribbing each other the entire time the other man had been at the manor. Neither had thrown any punches yet, so it must have been good natured.

“I choose this one!” Bart declared to Tim and Kon with a smile.

“Huh?” Wally’s brow pinched in confusion, and Bart explained.

“Tim and Kon got to choose their family, and so now I’m choosing you!”

The other speedster choked on a stray sour patch kid, and held up a finger to indicate that he was okay. Dick looked like he was caught somewhere between amusement and concern for his friend, but ultimately let Wally process his emotions for a few moments.

“I-I mean… I have a spare bedroom in Central City.” Bart threw his arms around the man in gleeful thanks, snuggling under the man’s chin. Wally’s face melted and Tim caught sight of Dick’s knowing smile.

Huh, maybe they had all found a family above the surface.

“How is it,” Arthur said, exasperation clear in his voice, “that I am the king of Atlantis and none of these kids think I’m cool. I have a palace with so many empty rooms!”

“I always took you for the cool uncle type,” Clark expressed mildly.

Arthur let out a humph, but there was a slight puff of pride in his chest regardless. It was strange to see a man so battle hardened pout, and Tim couldn’t help but smile. Clark bumped him good-naturedly with his shoulder while Bruce hid his smirk behind his glass of Lemonade.

Dinner consisted of burgers on the grill and potato salad— “a classic” everyone kept saying. Tim was glad Bart and Kon seemed just as perplexed by this idea as he was. Tradition was a hell of a drug, he supposed. Though all was made right with the world when Alfred placed a plate with salmon patties on it.

While the adults weren’t looking, the older kids helped Tim and his friends sneak more marshmallows and candy. Though in true Jason style, the boy started chaos by asking whether cereal was a soup or not:

Roy slammed a hand down on the table in outrage, “Soup is warm dammit!”

The adults saying “language” was overshadowed by Jason’s own exclamation. “Are you saying Gazpacho isn’t a soup, you coward?”

“No! That’s— That’s like saying a smoothie is soup!” Dick defended.

Jason leaned forward across the table in challenge, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. “Isn’t it?”

Dick’s eyes widened in horror, hand resting against his cheek. He whispered, almost to himself, “Oh no, is it?”

In the pandemonium that followed, Tim managed to sneak the entire bowl of marshmallows from the table unnoticed. He didn’t really listen to what was going on around him, content to pass along some of his bounty to the others. Jason’s hand patted his gratefully under the table as he received one of the sugary treats himself. He kept arguing with the rest as though nothing had happened. Tim envied his self control as he stuffed three gigantic marshmallows into his face.

“Nope, I’ve heard enough.” Roy strode to their side of the table and plucked Jason from his chair like he weighed nothing.

Normally, Tim would have bitten any offender that dared to touch his brother, but his jaws were currently occupied. Though, Jason wasn’t struggling hard enough to set Tim on edge either. He could have fought the hold and won, if he had wanted. As the boys reached the edge of the pool, Jason lurched forward, wrapping his knee around the back of Roy’s neck and pulled them both into the salty water.

Roy’s hat floated sadly without its owner, though as both boys surfaced— both spluttering and laughing— he plucked it from the water. “That’s my hat, you little sh— I mean, shark?”

“It was filthy anyway.” Jason’s nose scrunched in distaste.

“Amen,” Dick laughed.

Tim set his bowl of treasures on his chair before he ran to join them. Jason had a tail now! He could swim with his big brother like he had wanted to since they had gotten back. Tim jumped right at him, but he knew that Jason would catch him— he always did.

Jason twirled him around in circles as the other jumped in around them. As he watched the others laugh and joke, Tim was struck with emotions that he couldn’t name— both happy and sad.

“Are you okay, Guppy?” Jason asked, concern etched into his voice.

Tim watched Kon splash Clark in the face with his tail, and Dick balancing on Bruce’s shoulders as he fought with Roy and Arthur.

“I’m… I’m home.” Tears sprung to his eyes. “I have a home.”

“Just sink in?”

Tim wrapped his arms around Jason’s shoulders, head resting against his shoulder. “We’ll always be here for you, Tim. Family is forever.”

Suddenly, Bart was swimming around them in circles, talking a mile a minute. Something about a chicken fight?

“Come on, Pesciolino. Let’s go show ‘em what we got!”

Tim smiled as he was taken into the friendly chaos, the weight of a lifetime sliding from his shoulders.