Chapter Text
“Shhhhhhh.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you, imbecile. You will wake him up.”
“How did you escape his crushing grip if he wasn’t already awake?”
“You seem to think I am permanently glued to my protector’s side.”
“Hey, this is voluntary socializing. I’m not complaining. Pancakes?”
“Preposterous. Waffles. Three, with blueberries.”
“Comin’ right up.”
“… That does not look like a waffle, Grayson. That looks like a mistake.”
“I’ll have you know they’re better than Alf--- well, better than anyone else’s I know.”
“You must know dismal cooks.”
Jason rolled over, groaning. His everything hurt. He’d worked himself to the bone on short patrols, filling the time he wasn’t beating on traffickers with freerunning, push-ups, and squats. On the one hand, the fact that the criminal underworld was recovering from the Joker’s death meant good days for the citizens of Gotham. On the other, Jason had to face an unpleasant reality with all the clear thought he suddenly possessed:
He had no life.
“Tt… Not that way.”
“Okay, you do it then.”
“I am too short.”
“Now when have you ever let that stop you?”
“I will have you know that this is a disgusting disregard of… What are you doing? Urgh--- Unhand me you foul---”
“You’re so cute .”
Jason rolled out of bed, yawning, and pulled on a second pair of pants. It was bitingly cold this morning. Two weeks since he’d let Dick into his life; one week until Christmas. Their first snow of the year had come a little late; he could see white flakes drifting past the window. Was this Damian’s first snow? The trepidation felt somewhat familiar. They weren’t in danger of starving or anything, but they still needed a warmer safehouse. (They needed a home .)
The exact moment Jason entered the kitchen, Dick froze. Something was burning on the stove top, something else was smeared across the counter, and Damian was trapped in a patented Grayson Hug, kicking with all his might. He reached for Jason when he realized salvation might be at hand. “Akhi, free me from this… this…”
Jason turned the stove off, wetting a rag to clean up the counter, and raised a playful eyebrow. “You’re complaining about a hug?”
“This is preposterous,” Damian hissed as he pushed at Dick’s gleeful face. “I have rights .”
“Do you know what they are?” Jason charged him. They were definitely studying constitutional documents after this. They should have done that sooner. Damian needed to know the law of the land; both to discourage him from murdering anyone… else… and also because, realistically, he’d need to plead the fifth or the eighth at some point. Especially with a Grayson under their roof.
Damian’s response was cut off by an indignant squawk. Dick was hugging even tighter, overwhelmed with obvious joy at the fact that Jason was allowing him the indignity of cuddling a murderous ex-cult prince. Jason tried to reconcile this image with the cold fury he’d seen in the Joker’s cell. He couldn’t do it. “Alright, give him here.”
“Whyyyyyy?” Dick complained dramatically, but he acquiesced. Damian clung with all four limbs as he was handed off, glaring at Dick from the safety of Jason’s arms. “Grayson has many, many, many questions.”
“Unfortunately, he came like that. Dick, clean this up. I’ll make breakfast.” Jason swayed on his feet to pacify the indignant kid on his hip, glancing at the oven clock. Four in the… afternoon? “I slept twelve hours? That’s not a real number. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Dick shrugged honestly, scraping the burnt mess into the trash. “You needed it, both of you. Sleep is healing. Besides, interrupting nightmare-free rest is bad luck.”
Jason yawned widely, setting Damian on a stool so he could commence with feeding. “Tea?”
“Please.” Dick slid into the stool next to Damian, grinning. Damian edged away from him skeptically. He was about two seconds away from pulling out a knife, and honestly, Jason didn’t blame him.
“Go brush your teeth an’ get dressed,” he suggested casually. “I’ll take you on patrol tonight, shadowing only.”
Damian lit up instantaneously, then attempted to mask his excitement behind professional indifference. He wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “Yes, of course, Akhi.”
“Jay,” Dick whispered in a strangled voice when Damian pattered from the room.
Jason gave a warning glare. “You’re gonna burn out your welcome.”
“He needs more hugs,” Dick defended stubbornly. “You’re telling me he got enough in the League?”
Jason’s hands stuttered on the fruit knife. He steadied his grip, flipped the hilt in his palm a few times until he got a feel for the weight, then started cutting bananas. Dick stayed silent. Maybe he sensed he’d toed a line. “You have questions.”
“So many,” came the quiet admission. “What should I even get to understand, though? As far as I’m concerned, your past is sacred ground. No, it’s not funny, Jay. It’s not.”
Jason covered his snort with a sniff, sobering. He kept his back turned. “I know what you mean, I guess. Why disturb what isn’t yours?”
“You’re here now . That’s all I care about. Anything else is a bonus.” A tightrope. A careful balancing act. The conversation was wide open, gently welcoming, but it was Jason’s to take. Jason’s to ignore.
He forced his shoulders to relax. Time for tea. He retrieved the mugs from the cabinet. Dick had somehow moved a few random things from the manor to the safehouse, which would have been insulting if it didn’t make Jason’s throat hurt. He lifted the only colorful mug from the back. “Wonder Woman.”
Dick chuckled softly. “No one’s used it since.”
“Why?” Jason rubbed the chip in the rim. He used to cut his tongue on that chip before he learned to be gentler with rough edges. “A shrine, is that it? No touching the belongings of a dead boy?”
“It’s yours, Jay.” Dick turned his palms up, inexpressive, but blatantly vulnerable. “You mean to tell me you wouldn’t have kicked my ass the exact moment I touched your mug?”
“I would have come back just to haunt your dreams,” Jason confirmed scathingly. The joke fell flat, too close to reality, but the tension eased. He dropped tea into his Wonder Woman mug. The water was boiling.
“I missed you,” Dick ventured carefully.
“I know.” Jason cast about for something to say, something to admit that wasn’t I needed you in Iran. I needed you in Ukraine. I needed you on the side of that road and the middle of that airfield and the depths of that ship. “I… told him stories about you. While we were traveling.”
“Really?” Dick’s tone dipped into teasing. “Do I wanna know which ones?”
“He may have too many details about that awful suit.”
“At least my mullet survived infamy.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Jason slid his brother’s steaming mug across the tiny island counter, avoiding eye contact. “We traveled for… It blurs together. Months? It was… April, I think, when we started making plans to escape.”
Dick stayed still, but his fingers tensed. Jason interpreted his glance towards the bedroom door. That would be an easy out, but Jason didn’t feel like taking it. He wanted to say this. Some of it. Any of it. (Maybe it wouldn’t feel like such a nightmare if someone else knew.) “Damian understands tone pitch better than I do. He won’t come back until he hears that we’re done.”
Dick cocked his head a few centimeters to the right. “How many answers do I get?”
“As many as I can stay present for.” Jason’s hand tightened around his mug. He set it down, placed the clean pan on the stove, and turned on the heat. Something to do.
“You trust me that much?”
“I would have trusted you with my life if I’d had that chance.”
“And if I’d failed?”
Jason paused in the act of cracking eggs into a bowl. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to see Dick’s face. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know. You died a hero; I wouldn’t take that from you.”
“You still feel guilty.”
“… In my dreams.”
Jason seasoned the eggs, grunting, and poured them into the pan. It wasn’t hot enough, but that was okay. There was more fruit to slice in the meantime. “I could tell you about the coffin, but I don’t remember very much. I could tell you about the grueling hours of training, but that’s fuzzy, too. Talia let me stay catatonic for four years. Damian knows more about that time than I do.”
Dick’s chair creaked. He was spinning from side to side; a self-soothing motion. Good. Dick was only dangerous when he sat still. “Tell me about… smell.”
Jason’s nostrils flared. “What?”
“Tell me about what you smelled. What… What were the mornings like? I’ve only been once. To the Himalayas, I mean.”
Jason’s lips twitched. “Smell is a powerful memory. You think that’ll help my brain uncover more valuable information?”
“I don’t want information, Jay. I want… understanding.” Dick’s tone gentled. Jason didn’t know what that meant. “I want to know how it felt .”
“The dying part or the living part?”
“All of it. Start with scent.”
Jason finished cutting the last strawberry before closing his eyes. “Fresh. The mornings smelled fresh.”
“Snow?”
“We weren’t high enough, but for training, sometimes, yeah.” Jason’s nostrils flared again. It hurt this time. “I don’t remember the smell of snow. Just… sweat.”
“I’ll bet you remember the smell of Damian.”
Jason laughed quietly. He could feel baby-soft hair sliding through his clumsy fingers. He could feel rolls of fat under young skin. A trusting weight. A missing piece. “He smelled so brand new, Dick. Like the world hadn’t touched him yet.”
“It didn’t, for a while.”
“He lived on my back. Eating, playing, sleeping.”
“Did he spit up?”
“A lot. On purpose, too, I think. He was always a smart kid.”
“It sounds peaceful.”
“I don’t remember the bad parts. I remember… pain, sure, but nothing else. Just Damian.” Jason opened his eyes to the smell of slightly overcooked eggs. He flipped them around before beginning to cut blueberries. Damian got a kick out of little food sizes. The smaller the better. “He thought I was perfect until they threw me into poisonous Mountain Dew.”
“I doubt that’s changed. He’s not lacking in love.”
“Loyalty, love, respect. Connection? I’m not so sure. We understood each other better when I couldn’t talk.”
“You wouldn’t have escaped if not for Lazarus water, Jay. I’m… I’m grateful. I know that’s selfish.”
Jason spread the fruit in a circle on three plates, a rueful smile tugging at his face. “I protected him better before the Pit.”
“What were the most common threats?”
“Tests, mostly, and I don’t think Talia knew about all of them. Ambushes.” Jason’s fingers wrapped around the hilt of the fruit knife. He squeezed hard before stabbing it into the cutting board. Lapping green waves fought for dominance in his mind’s eye, but he held firm to the vision of the room with the sword slashes in the walls. “I was so angry .”
“They hurt him.”
“They’d usually hurt me instead. I don’t… remember that part.” Jason’s shoulder twitched. Scarred tissue tugged at his muscles every time he moved, long stripes criss-crossing his back. He usually didn’t notice they were there. The Pit hadn’t erased all of them. “I was too unpredictable after the Pit. The willingness to sacrifice my own body was… gone. I didn’t really think about it. I just wanted to hurt someone.”
“So they attacked Damian because they couldn’t control you.”
“They…” Jason swallowed thickly. “They stabbed him in the shoulder once. They tried to drown him. They wanted information. I almost didn’t…”
“Jay…”
“I smelled salt.” Jason squeezed his eyes shut. The eggs were burning again. “He couldn’t stop crying , Dick. He…”
“Jay.” A gentle hand brushed Jason’s cheek. When had tears slipped down his face? “You saved him.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“You definitely did. The what-ifs aren’t useful anymore.”
“They are if you learn a lesson.” Jason peeled his eyes open, turning off the stove. Time for toast. “I’m still not sure I did learn. I don’t know how to keep protecting him.”
“Asking for help isn’t a weakness, Jay.”
“It is in this family.”
“What am I, chop liver?” Dick turned Jason by his shoulders, fixing sincere sea blue onto scared glowing green. “Jason, you can’t self-identify with weakness. Look at me. I got fuckin’ therapy, right? I learned how to ask for help, and so can you. You’re doing it right now.”
Jason shrugged Dick’s hands from his shoulders, viscerally uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, I’m not proud of it.”
“Pride is overrated. Besides, you’re loved no matter how strong you are; you know that.”
Jason glanced towards the empty bedroom doorway where he knew for a fact his little brother was eavesdropping. “Yeah… I know.”
“God, Jay, you…” Dick stepped back to run both hands through his wild hair, laughing. “I know I said it already, but fuck . I am so proud of you . You’re my hero, y’know that?”
Jason laughed too, startled. “What? Get outta here.”
“No, I’m serious!!! Jay, you stole Talia Al Ghul’s child from the League of Assassins . You made an epic escape!!! Okay, so you haven’t revealed all the juicy details yet, but knowing you? I’m sure it involved fire.”
Jason’s laugh felt more genuine this time. “I didn’t even---”
A soft intake of breath was all the warning they got before a shrill “What are you doing here?”
Dick whirled towards the living room. “Me? What are you doing here?!”
Jason sidestepped his brother to get a good view, heart in his throat. Tim Drake of all people was sitting on the open windowsill, civvies, bandaids, and camera included. He had one leg outside, as if prepared to escape, but his face was a hearty mix of hysteria. “ You .”
“You!!!” Tim shot back. “Dick, what the actual hell? I thought you were gonna have a conversation with him, not disappear for two weeks of radio silence!!! Is this where you’ve been the whole entire time???”
“I was letting Babs know ab---”
“Babs doesn’t tell me squat an’ you know it!!!”
Damian appeared in the bedroom doorway, knives drawn, and snarled at the window. “ You .”
“You?!” Tim squeak-shrieked, stumbling the rest of the way inside. “I thought you were injured , Dick, I thought you were hiding --- Is this the actual hornet’s nest? How many more kids do you have st---”
“Cease this instant!!!” Damian brandished his knives, stalking forward with all three and a half feet of righteous fury. “Why have you broken into my Akhi’s apartment? Explain yourself you… you imposter!!!”
“Do I cease or explain myself?!” Tim demanded in a voice two octaves too high. He sashayed around the couch, trying to create distance between him and… stabby things. “I thought I was looking for my brother!!! ”
“Your brother is visiting with my brother.” Damian rolled over the arm of the couch, swinging to emphasize every word. “You… are not… welcome!!! ”
Tim spun out of reach, hopping on top of the furniture. “Oh, what are you gonna do, stab me?”
Jason felt a headache creeping in on the horror of seeing his almost-victim in his living room. “Boys…”
“Remove yourself or I will have to resort to violence!!!”
“Take your best shot, small fry!!!”
“EXCUSE me?!”
“You heard me, ankle biter!!!”
“You leave me no---”
“Come at me, pipsqueak!!!”
Damian lunged with a vengeful shriek. Jason barely had time to roar “NO KNIVES” before they collided. Weapons clattered to the ground; the previously lethal battle devolved into utter chaos. Bodies tumbled around the floor, shrieks echoed off the walls, and hair--- Was that hair? “Stop!!! STOP!!!”
“Tim!!!” Dick leaped into the fray, getting his chin knocked for the trouble, and wrapped his arms around someone’s waist. Jason grabbed the other one, trying to keep his eyes from getting scratched out as he tugged away. A few breathless seconds later, they’d pulled apart; Dick with a wriggling Damian on one side, Jason with a thrashing Tim on the other.
“Urgh--- Let GO of me!!!” Tim’s heart rate doubled under Jason’s hand as he squirmed. Jason dropped him instantly, unnerved, and the skinny kid rolled behind the old lounge chair, peeking out with narrowed eyes.
“Unhand me this MOMENT!!!” Damian ordered Dick.
“Don’t,” Jason countered. Dick held on, wincing as Damian bit his arm. He did not put the gremlin down. Good. One element contained.
“I’m sorry,” Jason offered quietly, crouching to make himself smaller. “That’s a hell of an introduction, kid.”
“ You tried to kill me,” Tim shot back, his eyes flicking from person to person. “I can’t do worse than that.”
“I didn’t try to kill you.”
“You would have if Crood Baby over there hadn’t used himself as a human shield!!!”
Jason rubbed at his forehead. The headache was growing stronger. “Do you want eggs?”
The icy blue eyes widened. “What?”
“Eggs.” Jason pointed uselessly at the kitchen. “I made eggs.”
“Ouch,” Dick hissed in the background as the silence spiraled. “Hey, quit it---”
“Dispose of this insulting interloper!!! What is a Crood?! Akhi!!! I demand to know!!!”
“Hey, Tim, you owe me twenty bucks.”