Chapter Text
Tim could feel Jason’s gaze boring into him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He didn’t let any unease show on his face, calm and collected as he swung his leg out of the window and pulled himself onto the balcony.
The meeting with Atsushi had been incredibly productive, in Tim’s opinion. Regardless of the ass-kicking he might get as a result, he had learnt enough for any injuries to be worth it. And hopefully, with the mountains of persuasive dialogue he has prepared, no violence will be necessary in the first place.
“Before you beat the shit out of me,” Tim began before Jason could get a word in. “No one knows I’m here, and no one other than Steph knows about the kid.”
That was the most important thing for Jason to know. It was the right thing to say, because while Jason still seemed disgruntled, he didn’t look quite as murderous as a few seconds ago.
Score for team Tim.
Still, Jason was far from satisfied with that. Tim understood, and had predicted and prepared for Jason’s response. A response that was likely to irk him, yes, but Tim was prepared for that.
“And why should I believe you? Daddy bat doesn’t microchip you guys anymore? Shouldn’t you be in school?”
Tim couldn’t hold back the small scoff that escaped his mouth. Bruce was a paranoid bastard with no regards for privacy, but Tim never left the house with a tracker unless he wanted to.
“He doesn’t control me or what I do during the day. Never has and never will.”
Simple enough, and true to the point. Tim’s relationship with Bruce was always fundamentally different from the other Robins. Tim took care of Bruce when the man couldn’t take care of himself, and Bruce never controlled Tim or parented him the way he was able to do with the others.
Tim does see Bruce as a father figure in a lot of ways—He wouldn’t have agreed to be adopted if he didn’t—but their relationship wasn’t that simple, and the dynamic they shared was more akin to that of partners rather than mentor and sidekick.
Bruce respected Tim’s independence, and didn’t intrude on Tim’s business. He trusted that Tim would call on him if needed and that was that.
Jason seemed skeptical, but he didn’t fully understand the circumstances of Tim becoming Robin. No one really spoke about it, not before Jason’s return and certainly not afterwards.
Dick had tried to apologize for it at one point, but Tim had shut him down real fast. Tim chose this life because he had to, but he didn’t regret it. Not for one second.
Tim sighed in the face of Jason’s stony silence.
“Bruce only knows where I am when I want him to. He doesn’t ask, and I don’t tell unless I specifically want him to know. As far as he’s aware I’m at school, and he won’t know otherwise because I have digitally marked myself there in the system.”
Jason is still silent. Tim wonders if that is a good or bad sign. It could be either, really, as Jason tends to be fairly unpredictable. Tim accounted for it heavily.
He’s focused on Atsushi’s safety, so Tim needs to affirm that he also has the kid’s best interests in mind without phrasing it as though he’s studying Atsushi like a bug under a microscope. Easy peasy.
Looking Jason straight in the eyes, Tim continues clearly but softly. “I won’t do anything to put Atsushi in danger. He’s a good kid, and clearly you’ve been caring for him well.”
Jason’s eyes flash and Tim immediately sees the error he made, but Jason has him by the collar before he can mentally lament about it much.
It seems bringing up Atsushi by name so soon was a bad idea. Oh well.
Tim doesn’t fight the grip even though it goes against all instincts. He takes a deep breath and keeps his posture relaxed and nonthreatening.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? Questioning how I take care of my kid, huh? It’s none of your business, you brat! I just had shit to do as Red Hood conveniently when you planned on visiting… yeah, right. You’re fucking insane. I should drag you to Bruce just so he can beat you upside the head, what sort of deranged fuck starts a goddamn gang war just so he can spy on a child? What the fuck. What. The. Fuck!”
Tim waits for Jason to run out of breath and for the green in his eyes to dull. He knows that Jason is bluffing about dragging him to Bruce, and even if he did, Tim is confident he could talk his way out of it.
Bruce might not be aware how far Tim is willing to go in most cases, but he is aware that the third Robin has quite a few screws loose. What member of the Wayne family doesn’t?
Jason is still ranting, Tim notes numbly. The Lazarus Pit must have given him some damn good lungs, because Tim doesn’t think Jason has stopped to breathe once in the past three minutes.
He must look bored, or maybe his face went a little too blank, because Jason has stopped talking and is now staring at Tim with a mix of outrage and bafflement.
Funny. Tim manages to have that effect on people, for whatever reason. Tim can’t imagine why—he’s a delight to be around!
Anyways, Tim figures now is his time to speak again.
“I am well aware that I am batshit insane. This is not news to anyone well acquainted with me. I think it just took you a while to get the memo.”
Jason is too stunned to speak. His mouth is gaping open like a fish, likely stuck between wanting to slap Tim across the face or pull his own hair out. Tim also has this effect on people. He's weaponized it for this exact purpose.
Taking advantage of Jason’s affronted shock, Tim gently pries Jason’s curled fingers off of his hoodie and steps to the side, rubbing at his neck. The collar of the sweatshirt is pulled down just enough for his neck to be visible, and the faint scar running along his jugular along with it.
It’s playing dirty, reminding Jason of what he did to Tim in San Francisco. Tim doesn’t care. Jason is angry, and seeing the damage he did to Tim last time they were in this position should help him calm the fuck down. Or at least prevent any actual maiming, in any case.
It’s also just a little bit satisfying to see the way Jason pales, looking slightly sick.
Tim has forgiven him. He forgave Jason so quickly it had everyone in his family questioning whether he had lost his mind. Forgiveness doesn’t mean he can just ignore the way his throat aches when it rains and the permanent rasp to his voice.
Maybe the voice thing is forgivable, actually. It makes Tim’s voice as Robin sound way more badass and intimidating, definite improvement. It’s pretty embarrassing when you’re insulting a bad guy and your voice cracks like a thirteen year old going through puberty. In retrospect, the rasp was totally worth it.
Point is, Tim is allowed to be bitter about it sometimes, and the asshole hasn’t even given a formal apology. So for the sake of both deescalation and Tim’s overwhelming sense of pettiness, he gets to weaponize the damn scar.
With Jason more or less thinking rationally, Tim soldiers on.
“What I did was fucked up. I’m not going to apologize to you because you can smell bullshit and I always reek of it, but I can admit it was a violation of privacy and also a waste of your professional and personal time.”
Jason seems shocked that Tim has taken accountability. Probably because Bruce is allergic to it, just like everyone else in their god forsaken family. Tim is practiced in the art of lying to himself, but he can recognize his own errors and isn’t ashamed to admit to them. The sooner Jason realizes Tim isn’t as chronically emotionally stunted as the rest of them, the better.
“You..”
Tim cuts Jason off before he can say something that throws off Tim’s perfectly planned speech.
“I know that you would never hurt a little kid, but taking one in like this isn’t like you. Not with the life you live and the risks you have to take. If he was in danger, if you were in danger, I wanted to know. I have access to resources Bruce doesn’t know about, and I can help if he needs to get somewhere safe. And if not, if you’re planning to keep him and raise him, well… I was curious. Sue me, how could I not be? Of all the people to have inherited the adoption gene I would not have expected it to be you. My bet was on Dick.”
The slurry of wordvomit seems to have completely nullified any of Jason’s murderous rage. His eyes are back to the normal teal-color they usually are.
That doesn’t mean Jason is not angry, of course. It’ll just be the normal human type of angry, and not the Pit Rage kind of angry. Much more manageable, comparably.
Jason is definitely annoyed about the adoption comment, because the noise he makes is somewhere between a huff and a growl.
“I didn’t get any fucking adoption gene, ya’ little shit.”
Jason is in denial. It’s okay, Tim won’t push the issue, but they both know that the truth is plain to see. Jason probably just doesn’t want to admit as much out loud.
Tim lets Jason think the words have soaked in a little before switching back to Atsushi. The goal of this conversation is for Jason to accept that Tim will be butting into their lives and business regardless of his opinion on the matter, while making it seem like Jason gets a choice in it. He does not, but Tim would rather Jason think he does.
The fire escape creeks as Tim leans on the corner of the balcony, looking utterly carefree. “Bruce is an ass with no respect for personal boundaries. I don’t blame you for wanting to keep him out of this– I want to help you keep him in the dark. He’s stupid when it comes to you, Jason, and I don’t want a little kid getting dragged in the middle of it.”
The easiest way to gain Jason’s trust would be to show that Tim isn’t Bruce’s lap dog. Everyone seemed to be under that impression for some unknown reason. Tim and Bruce might not have explosive fights that ended in screaming matches, but that didn’t mean he disagreed with Bruce any less. He just went about it differently and more effectively.
He met Jason’s eyes, refusing to back down, and held his ground.
— — — — — — — —
Tim Drake is going to be the second death of him. Jason is sure of it.
Dealing with gang disputes often required some measure of patience and delicacy. Contrary to popular belief, Jason did not elect to solve every problem by going in guns blazing.
Was that his preferred method? Yes. It was quick and easy to understand for all parties. Unfortunately, being a crime lord required a lot of boring diplomacy. Usually he could relegate certain tasks to trusted lieutenants, but in this specific case the city was at risk of being caught between an explosive gang war. It took hours of barked threats and long negotiations to get a story out of both sides, and it turned out to be a fairly petty dispute that was quickly cleared up once Jason got to the crux of the issue.
It was a waste of time. When Jason was finally done sorting things out and had time to check the safe-houses home security, only to see the camera had been temporarily disabled, his blood had run cold.
And then when he managed to retrieve the footage, and discovered it was Timothy Fucking Drake who had entered his fucking home, he was livid.
The pieces had fallen together quickly: The little birdy had decided to stick his nose where it didn't belong, and went to frankly insane lengths to keep Jason occupied while he investigated.
He knew, rationally, that Atsushi was not in danger. Tim wouldn’t hurt a kid under Jason’s protection if he valued his life. Questionable self-preservation instincts aside, Jason was confident that his replacement wasn’t suicidal enough to attempt anything.
Still, fear had wormed its way under his skin and he hadn’t hesitated to head in the direction of the safe-house as fast as his bike could go. As far as Jason was concerned, speed limits were optional in Gotham. He made it there in time to hear Tim make some bullshit excuse about leaving before Jason could return home. Well, lucky for him, Jason was right on time.
He had planned to drag the kid out by the ear, scare the shit out of him, and let him leave with a few bruises— or broken bones, depending on how pissed off Jason became as the conversation progressed.
He had planned to make it clear that Tim would under no circumstances pull this shit ever again, and he was to stay quiet and stay out of Jason’s personal life.
Things did not go to plan.
Things did not go to plan at all.
What. The. Fuck.
Jason had no clue what had just happened. No, seriously, he has no clue how he had gotten to this point.
He’d had a plan, dammit, so why exactly was the brat talking circles around him?! Why was his fucking replacement making Jason question his own sanity?!
Something was deeply wrong with Tim Drake. Deeply, deeply wrong. Jason felt almost nauseous.
Maybe that was the lingering guilt. The pit tended to act up when Tim was within viewing distance, but once the rage drained Jason mostly felt incredibly uncomfortable.
He had hurt Tim in a way that was inexcusable. He wasn’t going to sugar coat it or take away accountability by blaming the pit, because regardless of the Lazarus Pit’s influence, it was Jason’s hands that beat Tim into the ground and his hands that almost killed Tim on the floor of that tower.
He tried not to think about it for the sake of his own sanity. When he did think about it for too long, he was overwhelmed with so many emotions he couldn’t think straight.
Still, in his head, Jason had always had a very specific image of Timothy Drake. The rich, intelligent, bootlicking third Robin who wouldn’t know true struggle if it slapped him in the face. Sure, the kid had a backbone and enough sass to incapacitate a lesser man. Mostly though, the brief image he had seen was that of a more arrogant, expressive version of Bruce Wayne.
Jason takes that all back.
The boy standing in front of Jason was not Bruce. Just as stubborn, maybe, but most definitely not Batman’s little pet.
It was hard to wrap his head around. With every word that came out of Tim Drake's mouth, Jason almost regretted coming back so quickly in the first place.
Tim had known Jason was mad to the point of near irrationality and said all the right things to combat it. Jason almost wondered if it was scripted, with how smoothly and effectively it had worked. Tim couldn't be that insane though, right? There was no way he could have genuinely predicted and made a speech for this exact circumstance. No way.
Jason felt as though he might be lying to himself. Again, for his own sanity, he tried to avoid this and focus on however the hell he was supposed to respond.
As far as Jason was aware, Tim was being entirely genuine. Maybe going about it like the manipulative little shit he is, but he seems to have Atsushi’s best interests in mind and he has emphasized the importance of keeping Bruce in the dark.
He doesn’t think Jason is crazy for not wanting to involve Bruce. He understands, he rationalized it, and he is trying to take steps to prevent it from happening.
As much as Jason will never admit to it out loud, there’s a stark sense of relief in his chest.
Atsushi doesn’t deserve to be put in the middle of Jason and Bruce’s conflict. He is already dealing with enough as is, and Jason is only one man.
Having someone like Tim in Atsushi’s corner… fuck, the idea makes Jason’s blood boil, but this isn’t about how Jason feels. It’s about how to best protect Atsushi.
Gaze wary but resigned, Jason lets out a sigh of begrudging acceptance.
“What do you need to know?”
— — — — — — — —
Atsushi had stopped listening to the conversation pretty soon after realizing Tim had it well under control.
Seeing how he had manipulated Jason with such ease gave Atsushi whiplash, sending a prayer out to whatever deities may exist to never allow Tim and Dazai to meet. Ever.
Atsushi is fairly sure the multiverse would implode should such an event occur, and he very much would like to avoid that sort of situation.
Tim was basically a scarier version of Ranpo with Dazai level of unhinged-ness, and Atsushi found himself filled with both awe and terror. A very healthy mix of both, and also an inherent sort of fondness in hearing how much Tim already seemed to care for Atsushi and wanted to protect him despite knowing Atsushi for less than a day.
He had many questions. Mostly surrounding the mysterious ‘Bruce’ who seemed to be a recurring point of conversation.
Clearly the man was a touchy subject for Jason, and from what Atsushi had heard, he could only assume that he was Tim’s adopted father that he had mentioned. Was Jason one of the adopted siblings? Estranged, maybe?
He also got his confirmation that Jason was some sort of crime boss, and he calls himself the Red Hood. A pretty cool name, Atsushi approves wholeheartedly. None of the ‘bad guys’ that he faces have cool names like that. Maybe it’s because this is a superhero universe.
Tim also apparently started a gang war just so he could meet Atsushi, but Atsushi was choosing to ignore that. Objectively terrifying, yes, but Atsushi worked in the Armed Detective Agency. Unorthodox methods were practically written into the agency's employment contract, so maybe his standards are a little skewed.
The fact that Tim is aware of Jason’s illegal activities and alias further cements the idea he is also involved. Some sort of mafia crime family.. Was that a real thing outside of stories? Then again, this technically is a story. It might also totally be a real thing in Atsushi’s universe, but he wasn’t well informed about American mafia culture.
Seeing as the two of them had it handled and maiming did not seem likely in the near future, Atsushi scurried away from where he had his head pressed against the wall near the window and went to pick up one of the new journals Jason had bought.
Throughout the next half-hour, he carefully began detailing what he could remember of his early childhood and the orphanage. He mostly kept it to notable instances that he knew left scars, ones he could check corroborated with his current body.
Luckily (or perhaps unluckily, depending on one’s perspective) there weren’t that many to account for. Though it wasn’t nearly as obvious when he was younger, Atsushi’s healing factor meant he carried a relatively small amount of scars. Much more so than the average child, but when Atsushi got hurt so often the incidents that left scars stood out clearly in his memory. Had he been without any regenerative abilities, his body would have looked akin to a badly sewn up doll.
He didn’t write down any injuries that happened after the Shibusawa Incident. It was unproductive, since Atsushi knew for a fact that the body he was in hadn’t experienced that yet.
From what he could tell, there weren’t any real discrepancies. There weren’t any scars he didn’t recognize, or anything that particularly stood out from what he knew he’d experienced.
Atsushi didn’t have much access to computers, so he had no way to search whether or not the Port Mafia existed in this universe. He wasn’t quite sure what year the ADA was founded, other than knowing that Ranpo had been a teenager at the time.
This was all assuming that the abilities even exist as he knows them in this timeline. The fact that Atsushi’s ability seems the same pointed to it being a possibility, but Jason had referred to it specifically as a meta ability.
It could be a difference in translation, but Atsushi had a gut feeling there was something more. Jason tried to hide it, but Atsushi’s ability equally fascinated him and made him uneasy. He wasn’t familiar with that sort of power, even if supernatural abilities still existed in this world.
In fact, Atsushi had definitely overheard Jason quietly contemplating whether or not Atsushi was some sort of alien early on. It had sounded absolutely ridiculous at the time, and Atsushi had assumed Jason was joking. Now, though? Atsushi knew that aliens existed in this universe, so it wasn’t that far fetched of an assumption at all.
Actually, would Atsushi count as an alien? Does being from an alternate dimension grant you alien status? Was there some other inane term to describe that kind of phenomenon?
Atsushi preferred not to go down that line of thought, because it made his head spin and frankly he didn’t want to know. He barely qualified as human in his own dimension—he doesn’t want to add maybe being an alien on top of that.
Scrubbing harshly at his eyes and taking another quick glance of the pages of messy kanji, Atsushi affirmed to himself that there were no notable differences.
Accidental possession was most likely off the table, then. Still, Atsushi can’t be sure what the rules of this place are. He has accepted that this dimension is as real as anything can be, and that he wasn’t just hallucinating it all, but the details of the ability that had sent him here were entirely unknown.
For one, it might end up reversing itself if Atsushi just sat tight and waited.
Another possibility was that there was a specific set of events Atsushi had to follow through with in order to be sent back, like with Poe-san’s ability.
The last possibility, which Atsushi refused to think about, was the most daunting one: he was stranded here forever. It was impossible to prove or disprove, as of yet. Considering that, Atsushi refused to even think about it, so he discarded the idea each time before it could linger.
If there was a Ranpo of this world, Atsushi figured he would somehow know the answer. As it often did, Atsushi ached for the security of the Agency.
Jason and Tim had quieted down fully, so they were either whispering lowly enough that Atsushi couldn’t hear or they weren’t speaking at all.
Atsushi was about to begin writing down some more notes when he was startled by the sound of someone approaching behind him. He whipped around, clumsily slamming the notebook in his arms shut and shoving it behind him.
Jason looked down at him apologetically, seeing that’s Atsushi had been startled. His face looked pale and his expression drained, the smile on his face somewhat fixed.
Tim seemed like an exhausting person to argue with, so Atsushi pitied Jason greatly. There was no winning an argument with someone like that—Atsushi knew from experience.
“Sorry that took so long, bud.” Jason maneuvered himself so he was sitting criss-cross in front of Atsushi, hands fiddling in his lap. “I’ve discussed a few things with Timbo over there, and I’ve decided that he’ll be coming over to watch you sometimes while I’m busy with work.”
He looks at Atsushi for approval. Naturally, Atsushi nods. He has no problem with Tim, and he figures once the teen gets over whatever weird fascination he has, he’ll get bored of Atsushi and let him do his own thing.
“He’s trustworthy,” Jason continued unprompted. “…But if you ever, and I mean ever feel uncomfortable, let me know and you’ll never see his face again. This is for you, alright?”
There was a rustling sound as Atsushi shoved the notebook another inch away, and he made sure his smile was wide as he answered. “Of course, Jason. Thank you.”
They settled into content silence after that. Jason hadn’t looked over at the scattered pens and notebooks even once yet, which was more suspicious than if he had been subtly peeking. Atsushi could tell Jason was curious, but he was choosing not to push.
For once, Atsushi was glad for some of Dazai’s absurd lessons on how to make handwriting nearly illegible. They had seemed useless, but Atsushi could now appreciate that his writings were essentially Google-Translate Proof. Someone proficient in Japanese might be able to decode them with a bit of effort, but even then it would give most people a headache.
It was only being forced to read Dazai’s horrific reports—and rewrite them—that made it so Atsushi could read and write his own notes the same way fluently. Dazai would be proud, and the thought absolutely does not make Atsushi feel teary.
For the nth time, Atsushi mentally anguished about how having the emotional regulation skills of a child was awful. Now, however, was not the time.
There would be more to figure out as time went by, but Atsushi’s sure that he’s doing everything he can. Right now he can allow himself to enjoy the rest of the afternoon with Jason, all thoughts of his real universe and his awful childhood pushed to the back of his mind.
He gave Jason another smile, this one more lopsided.
“Let me tell you about my day!”