Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim liked to think that he had the best relationship with Jason out of everyone in the bats.

Which… honestly didn’t mean anything because Jason wasn’t really that close with any of them the others but they’re all trying to fix that. Honest!

They had a bit of an eye opener.

To some extent, they’ve all gotten used to Jason having their back which meant that by extension, they trusted him. Then, the confrontation in the cave happened between Hood and Batman and while it wasn’t the worst they’ve had, it was still pretty bad.

On the bright side, it didn’t get physically violent.

His heart sank. As if that meant anything. Pretty bad still meant bad. Jason still got hurt. Even if it wasn’t physically. Cassandra said so- said he was scared.

Of what? She didn’t say. Told them it wasn’t for her to say.

He couldn’t get Jason’s pleading gaze out of his mind. Begging for Tim to say something.

He did.

It was just- he said if a lot later than he should’ve.

Everyone regretted not speaking up sooner. They were just-

No excuses. They all should’ve spoken up sooner. All of them knew that Batman was in the wrong. It was just… easier, he guessed. To have Bruce let it out. Which was wrong. Reallyreallyreally wrong. He knew that. They all knew that.

He wondered if Jason knew that. If Jason blamed them. Or if Jason blamed himself.

Jason stormed off after that and no one could blame him. Not even Bruce. No one stopped him.

Everyone expected him to be back in a few days- maybe weeks at most. But months?

Well. None of them expected that.

And goddamn, did they all feel it.

All of them got injured more frequently. It wasn’t anything critical but if Hood was there- with them- there would’ve been no injury at all.

He had their back. Always.

And once again, they didn’t have his.

Another thing was that their conversations during patrol. It was different. There were no sarcastic quips. No morbid jokes. No random quotes. There was nothing. He missed his voice and his stupid sense of humor. The others did too. He could tell.

They all missed him.

So when he was spotted on patrol again. They waited a few days before they sprung on him- inviting him to hang out with them, eyes pleading for him to say yes to stay but 

“I was planning on leaving the city for a while y’know. Go off the grid n’ all that.”

None of them expected that. There was a chance Jason would’ve said no and they knew that. But for him to go off the grid. Again? When he just got back. They barely got to talk to him- hang out with him. And he’s leaving already? That doesn’t make sense.

Tim told Jason so, straight to his face. Well- not the last part.

The man didn’t budge. Tim tried to come with anything to get him to stay but in the end, nothing. There was nothing he could’ve said.

From the corner of his eye, he saw how Dick’s smile grew dimmer, his hopeful expression cracking just a tiny bit. How Damian’s scowl deepened, folding his arms across his chest, and Cass. Well, Cass looked disappointed but she probably already knew that Jason was gonna say no before the man himself did.

Even with the helmet hiding his eyes, Tim could feel the weight of Jason’s gaze sweeping over each of them, quick and assessing. Jason must have realized how disappointed they looked because he said that he would go to their next outing.

Tim smiled. That was good! Better than nothing. They would have to plan it accordingly so Jason would have lots of fun and come back to hang out with them even more. Ideas were beginning to form in his head but before he could further develop them, Steph nudged his arm.

“He’s leaving.”

Jason didn’t say goodbye. He just fired his grapple and left. But Tim was fine with that. 

They got something better-

Jason gave them his number . So he could be added to their group chat.

He really should’ve been added earlier. Why didn’t they add him earlier?

Tim couldn’t wait to send him memes and random pictures and to spam him with messages.

Dick added Jason to the group

Dick: hi jay!

Tim: welcome to the gc

Tim: prepare to be spammed

The others all texted back and greeted Jason. Telling him that they were excited because he’ll be in their next hang out. And that he should stay safe with whatever it was he was off grid for. Then they waited. For three dots to pop up. Anything.

No response.

Which was… fair. He was probably driving or something.

Days passed.

Then weeks.

They all expected Jason to text back eventually. They knew he would be busy but to go weeks without a response or a single read receipt. Well, they grew worried.

Tim knows he shouldn’t have but hacked into the phone. What if Jason was in danger and that’s why he wasn’t responding? What if he was captured somewhere? What if someone pickpocketed his phone? So many what-if scenarios were running through his mind.

The phone wasn’t as encrypted as he thought it would. He found the location pretty easily.

Crime Alley…

Wait. A realization struck Tim. He knew that house. That was the one where Jason and him would watch movies after patrol. It was a rare occurrence. Very very rare. But it did happen. Tim treasured those memories.

He really missed his brother.

Next thing Tim knows, he’s at the house. He knocked first because it was the polite thing to do.

But nothing.

He knocked again.

Nothing.

Third times a charm right?

… Yeah no.

So Tim broke in. Again. Probably not his brightest decision but he doesn’t care.

He just wanted to check in. Just in case something bad happened, you know- and oh. 

In the middle of a perfectly made bed in a perfectly clean and tidy house, there was phone that vibrated every few seconds.

Seriously though, the house was so clean. He knew Jason was relatively tidy but this was something else. It’s as if Jason scrubbed it clean and wiped it bare. There were no tea mugs, no jackets on the floor. Hell, there wasn’t even food inside the fridge.

Tim guessed Jason planned to be off grid for a while.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the stupid phone on the stupid clean mattress again and his breath hitched. At least that cleared up why Jason hasn’t responded to their messages.

“A burner.” Tim dryly stated, trying not to let the disappointment that he felt in his veins creep onto his voice even though no one could hear him. “He gave us his number from a burner.”

Tim should’ve been able to guess that but for some reason he didn’t and it hurt.

So much for progress.

Chapter Text

Patrol was over and everyone was in the cave debriefing and looking over a case they’ve been stuck on the past few days. 

The information- it just didn’t add up. Out of nowhere, Oracle took over the main screen of the Batcave, catching everyone by surprise. 

Dick recognized the armor right away! “Jason’s back!” he exclaimed with excitement, smile wide as he immediately stood up. 

Ever since Tim told them that the number Jason gave them was from a burner and that said phone was just tossed and forgotten about in a safe house. Well, let’s just say that their mood had been down. 

It’s been a week since then and now Jason’s back! He glanced up at the screen. Jason was talking to a guy around Dick’s age- early, maybe mid twenties?

He couldn’t read his lips but whatever his brother was saying must be good because the man suddenly wrapped his arms around Jason with tears running down his cheeks. 

Jason’s shoulders loosened and his stance softened. Dick watched with wide eyes as Jason hugged the man, slowly patting his back in comfort.

Dick shouldn’t feel jealous. He shouldn’t! That would be wrong. But… but when was the last time Jason hugged him back? When was the last time they’ve had a conversation that didn’t end up with screams or punches? 

The man Jason was talking to pulled back, using his wrist to wipe the tears away. Dick read the words “Thank you, Red. We all knew you cared. Hell, you’re probably the only one that does. But this- this is something else. I’ll spread the word. You can count on me” come out of his mouth. 

The man walked away with semi-dry eyes and a hopeful expression on his face. After that, they watch as Jason turned, tilting his face up to look directly at the camera. 

A second passed. 

Two. 

Then, Jason waved. 

Dick was so overwhelmed with glee that he forgot to question that whole interaction. What he didn’t forget though, were the snickers of his siblings as he stupidly waved back even though he knew that Jason wouldn’t be able to see.  

Ever since that night, Jason has joined them on patrol a few times. It wasn’t as often as he used to though. 

No one complained. Not wanting to drive him away again. Plus, they could tell that he’s busy with the Alley. Some major project or something. Jason refused to share any details, keeping everything tight lipped. 

Whenever they asked, he always discreetly changed the topic to something else. He did it so smoothly that no one noticed until Bruce off-handedly asked them if any of them had details on the project Jason was doing. 

No one answered, exchanging glances with each other. Tim spoke up, hesitantly telling the story of how his conversation with Jason went when he asked. 

And one by one, the rest talked about their interaction. 

In the end, they were all impressed. Even Bruce. They didn’t know that Jason could be skilled or even sneaky with his words like that. Usually, Jason just spoke his mind. Blunt and unforgiving. 

Don’t get Dick wrong, he knew Jason was skilled. He’s one of them, after all. He just didn’t realize that Jason was skilled in anything other than bombs and fighting. 

And wow, Dick blinked. That was a really messed up thought for his brain to conjure up about his brother. Why wouldn’t Jason be skilled in something other than fighting? He wasn’t around much when Jason was a kid but he always heard about how much of a bright and smart kid he was. 

What else did he not know about his brother? 

And since when did he start thinking of Jason as someone who was only ever violent? 

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. Maybe he should hang out with Jason one-on-one. Without the others. Dick wanted to get to know Jason more. 

He doesn’t think about how it's been years since Jason's been back. Years. What had happened during those years? Why hadn't they worked through their issues?

They already lost years when Jason was six feet under. Why did they decide to lose even more?

Without a second thought, he sent a message to Babs. 

       got a case that needs solving?

preferably one about traffickers or anything that Jay would work on me with

plz 🙏🏽

Babs sent an attachment 

Good luck.

Tell Jay I said hi.

IOU 

yep, i will

Dick grinned. Thank God for Babs. That was fast. 

He stared at the file, tilting his head. Should he let Jason know that there was a case Dick wanted them to work together on? Or should he just surprise him? 

If Dick texted and asked, there’s a chance Jason would flat out respond with a no. But… if Dick showed up in person, maybe with Alfred’s food on his hand, there’s no doubt that he’ll have a higher chance of Jason agreeing to work with him.

It’s decided then.

Dick would ask Jason in person. 

Days passed and Dick finally had time to go to Jason’s safe house. 

Patrol was over and he just changed out of his Nightwing suit. Alfred’s food was on one hand, his keys were on the other. 

He couldn’t wait. Dick was so excited. This was gonna be good. This was going to be fun. And most importantly, this would make Jason and him closer. 

Just when Dick was about to unlock the car, Tim appeared next to him. “Can I come with you?”

“No.” 

“Wha-“ Tim’s jaw dropped as he moved his hands around furiously. “Why not? You’re going to Jay, aren’t you? I wanna come with.” 

Dick huffed, dramatically closing his eyes and turning his head to the side. “This is my time to hang out with Jason. We’re going to be working on a case together and me and him are gonna hang out, eat food, and bitch about Bruce.” 

“I can help!” Tim protested, all huffy and puffy. “I can do all of that too. Pleaseeeee.” Tim begged, “I wanna go. Let me go. Please, please, please.” 

Dick sighed, if it was any other case with any other person, he probably would’ve given in. His siblings weren’t known for their pleading. The only person they say please to is Alfred. And occasionally Babs. 

“Still a no, Timmy. This is a case for me and Jason. Just us.” 

The desperation Dick was feeling must’ve shown up in his voice because Tim hmphed and finally backed down. “Fine.” He said, “But next time you hang with Jay, I come with.” 

“Sure,” the tension in Dick’s shoulders loosened. “Why not.” Dick had no disagreements with that. As long as this night was just for Dick and his little wing, then he would be happy. 

The ride to the Alley was fast, quiet, and relaxed. Dick had one hand on the wheel, the other keeping Alfred’s bag steady on the passenger seat. Every few blocks, the scent of roasted chicken and fresh bread would sneak past the folds in the paper, making his stomach growl.

Yeah. This was going to be a good night.

He parked a block away from the safe house, just to be safe and cut the engine. 

His heart was beating fast with anticipation as he walked closer. The building itself looked the same as the last time he saw it.

His chest loosened. Jason was home. Dick climbed the steps two at a time, balancing the food carefully in one hand as he knocked with the other.

Nothing.

He knocked again, harder this time, the sound echoing in his head.

Still nothing.

Maybe Jason didn’t hear it? 

He placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted it. Huh? It was unlocked. Did Jason know Dick was coming? Maybe that’s why he didn’t open the door for him? 

He pushed the door open. The lights were on. A worn-out but well-loved book was on the small table next to an armchair and there was a blanket tossed over it.

He could imagine Jason bundled up, invested in the book as he furiously turned the pages. The corner of Dick’s mouth twitched up at the thought. 

There were freshly washed dishes in the sink and the air smelled faintly of spaghetti. So Jason was obviously home. 

He softly set the food on the table, next to a gun with a pile of ammo beside it. 

Huh. Dick didn’t even know Jason had that type of gun. He didn’t even know that was on the market right now.

He shrugged, Jason probably got it early from one of his contacts. 

Then, his eyes caught the fridge-

Something was taped on it.

A note. 

Dick rushed to grab it, barely registering the words or the small Avenger symbol on the bottom left of the paper. For half a second, he thought it might be a scribbled “be right back” or “help yourself to the fridge.” Something casual. Something that meant Jason was coming back any second.

He read over it once. Twice. Then, his shoulders dropped. The humming of the fridge seemed to grow louder.

Don’t know if u guys will see this cause we have nothing planned but if for some reason, u guys do decide to break in for whatever reason, I decided to write this.

I’m off grid. Emergency with one of my contacts. Will prob be back in a week or two. See ya! 

It was written in haste, Dick could tell. Jason’s handwriting was usually neater than that. So whatever the emergency was, Jason probably just found out about it. Meaning, Dick probably missed Jason by a few minutes. 

He wanted to tear the paper into shreds. As if getting rid of it would magically make Jason show up. Instead, he just crumpled it up and shoved it in his pocket.  

His hands turned into fists. Deep breaths, he told himself. Deep breaths. 

Dick forced himself to calm down but the disappointment he felt still lingered. 

It wasn’t Jason’s fault. He knew that, it was just bad timing. 

But he... he just wanted to spend time with his brother. 

He stared at the food on the table, feeling stupid for carrying it so carefully.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Duke wondered if he was dreaming. His life felt so unreal sometimes. 

He was part of the bats. Friends with them, even. 

Hell, he was considered a Wayne. 

He attended Gotham Academy, one of the most prestigious schools in the nation. A place that he once thought he would never be able to see in person. 

And... the most surreal part was that the Red Hood was his English tutor. 

Duke wasn't Jason's only student either. Damian was one as well. 

It was ridiculous, really. The two of them were respective geniuses. They've gone toe to toe with Gotham's worst, solved cases that many would never figure out, and even stood their ground against metahumans. 

But for some reason, they were both failing English. 

Well- not anymore. 

Even if Duke wanted to, he couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across his face. He was staring at the paper on his desk with disbelief in his eyes. There's no way. 

He turned his head up and met his English teacher-Mrs. Evans's- eyes. "I'm impressed, Duke. Keep this up and you might end this school year with an A."

She walked towards the next student but Duke could care less. His head was already turning back to the paper. On it was the number eighty-five, circled with black ink and three golden star stickers. 

If it was any other class, Duke would be disappointed but this was English and Literature with Mrs. Evans. She was Gotham Academy's strictest teacher and she barely handed out grades above a ninety. 

And even then, a ninety was impressive. 

Jason would have claimed otherwise, but that was only because he was a nerd.

During one of the rare times that one of the bats would talk about Jason, they mentioned that back in his Robin days, Jason refused to patrol unless he'd finished all of his homework. 

It paid off too because they claimed that Jason never scored below a ninety-eight percent. Every paper, every test, and every essay was apparently perfect. 

Duke wouldn’t have believed it, but Tim hacked the records so they had no choice. 

Duke and Damian asked him about how his grades were so good once, during patrol, but Jason just laughed, saying how it wasn’t a big deal because his teachers weren’t that strict with their grading. 

Once they asked him who his teachers were, they just stared at each other wide-eyed as Jason listed some of the strictest and harshest ones in the Academy.

He remembered that very night clearly. 

Damian had crossed his arms and demanded proof, even going as far as stomping a foot. It was adorable and not at all as threatening as Damian thought it was. He could tell Jason thought the same because he let out another laugh. 

"Don't know how I can prove it to ya," Jason responded, shoulders loosened. If his helmet was off, Duke would bet that the man was smiling. He didn't think he’d ever seen Jason so relaxed, “You can probably ask B and see if he remembers but I doubt it."

Bruce remembered. Remembered every teacher that Jason had. Listed all of them with frightening accuracy too. 

"Why are you guys even asking about this?" Jason tilted his head, "You guys having trouble or something?" 

Damian huffed and tilted his head to the side, "The education system in this nation is a joke. My knowledge is far more superior than all of my peers.”

"O~kayy." Jason slowly said before turning to look at Duke, "What about you, kid. How's the academy treating you?"

"It's fine." Duke admitted, "Just having trouble with my essays." 

"Who's your teacher?"

"Evans." 

“You serious?” Jason asked, disbelief apparent in his voice. “I remember her. I actually loved her class. Thought it was a breeze to be honest. It’s pretty easy once you understand the basics."

Easy? Duke and Damian looked at each other, incredulously.

That was the moment Duke and Damian both silently agreed that lazarus pit or not, Jason was insane. 

He’d watched Mrs. Evans tear essays apart like it was her lunch. 

Most of the class prayed to scrape by with a seventy. Hell, he’d seen one of his classmates cry because the teacher decided to write an X with a bright red marker over his entire essay, leaving a comment telling him to restart because “it was unsalvageable”.

Duke had never been so happy to receive a fifty-seven in his life. 

Nothing about that class was easy. 

He told Jason exactly that but his comment was just brushed off.

"You guys just don't understand the basics." He could still hear Jason's voice, clear as day as he repeated his earlier words. "Believe me, once you do, you'll be breezing through the class." 

There were no basics when it came to Evans. 

"You know," Jason hesitated. "If you want I can help you guys out." 

He would've been an idiot to decline that offer. 

Damian hadn’t declined either. Although, he did say that he didn’t need help. He would just supervise, just in case. 

At that, it was Jason and Duke that exchanged looks. 

He was pretty sure that Damian’s grade was lower than his. Which was saying a lot because Duke was on the verge of failing.  

The first time they sat down, they were in Jason's safehouse. Papers almost covered the entirety of the table.

Jason was focused, reading over Damian's essay and marking certain parts while the two of them were munching on the brownies Jason made.  

When he set his pen down, Damian and Duke immediately turned.

“This is really sloppy,” was the first thing Jason said, pointing at one of the parts he circled. "Your thesis doesn't match with what you've written." 

Damian bristled, "My thesis is flawless." 

Jason only raised an eyebrow, "Your evidence says otherwise. Look…”

Damian looked like he was about to throw his brownie at Jason as the man continued explaining. But by some miracle, he didn't. 

He just sat there, jaw tight as Jason gave suggestions on how Damian could fix his thesis so that the evidence actually defended it.

When it was Duke's turn. Jason was even more brutal.

"This is the worst thing I've ever read, Narrows."

Duke's jaw dropped, unsure of what to say. Now he knew how Damian felt. 

That hurt.

Jason sighed, probably realizing he went too far. "Look kid. I'm only saying that because I know you can do better. You have done better. This-" he pointed at the paper, covered with red ink. "-isn't your style. There's too many metaphors and weak attempts of symbolism that doesn’t even matter. You lost me in the middle of it. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.“

Damian smirked beside him, pleased to see that Duke's essay wasn't good enough as well. 

Jason shut it down quickly though, "Don't think yours was any better, Damian. Your draft was just as bad. Do you really want me to explain how using fancy words incorrectly won’t automatically make your essay sound smarter? And how it just made your essay sound stuffy and bloated?"

That shut him up quickly. 

Duke slumped on his chair, glaring at the paper like it betrayed him personally. "So what do you suggest then?" He grumbled. 

"It’s not entirely bad. We’ll go through it step by step.” Jason tried to cheer him up. “First up, what are you trying to prove..."

They spent that whole day working on their essays and by the end of it, there was obvious improvement. 

It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot. But for the first time, Duke actually felt proud of what he'd written. 

Jason had gone line by line with them, asking them questions that helped them develop their analysis deeper.

“What’s your evidence saying? And then why did you choose that quote specifically.” 

“No, no. You guys have to tell your reader remember. They can’t read your minds.” 

“This is really good so far. Now how does this connect back to your thesis?” 

By the end of it, writing essays finally started making more sense.

When they thanked Jason, he told them that he barely did anything. That it was all them and that they were just overcomplicating everything. 

Jason was wrong. He helped them out way more than he thought. 

And now, staring at the eighty-five circled in black ink and surrounded by stars, he made a decision to show Jason just how much he’d helped. 

Carefully, he folded the essay in half and then folded it again. He smoothed out the creases before tucking it into his folder. He didn't want to crumple it. 

He couldn’t wait to show Jason. 

His brother was going to be proud of him. 

Damian couldn't wait for patrol.

He was more excited than usual and everyone could tell. 

Although, he didn't know how. 

When he privately questioned Grayson, the man just laughed, before ruffling his hair and messing it up.

Damian scowled, trying to fix it. 

“You were quieter than usual during dinner.” The man informed him. 

“I am always quiet.” 

“Sure you are.” He stepped back before Grayson could lay his dirty hands on his hair again.

Then Damian started heading toward the cave- at, of course, a reasonable pace.

Grayson jogged to catch up to him. 

“Why are you in such a rush anyways? You’re not usually in such a hurry.” 

Damian didn’t answer and after a few minutes of ignoring the man’s pleading, Grayson finally gave up and started talking about how his day had gone. 

Everyone was already changing into their suits when his eyes narrowed at the paper that Thomas was carefully shoving into his pocket. 

Ever since school started, Signal started joining them for patrols in the evening. 

Father stated that school was important and should always come first, meaning that Signal had been demoted to patrolling at the same time as them. 

Damian believed the logic idiotic but he didn’t argue. From the looks of everyone, it was a losing cause. 

“What is that?” Damian asked, pointing an accusing finger at the former daytime vigilante. 

Everyone turned towards them.

“Wha- this?” Thomas took the piece of paper out, before unfolding it.

Damian’s eyes immediately went to the number in the corner, feeling a surge of pride in his stomach. 

He proudly took his own essay out from where it was hidden, neatly folded. 

“I scored higher than you.” He couldn’t help but point out, very smug about the eighty-seven on top of his paper.

Thomas rolled his eyes, “Of course you did. You’re like four grades below me. Different rubric standards.” 

Damian glared, “Excuses. Just admit that my essay is more superior than yours.” 

“Nope,” Thomas was putting his boots on, ignoring Damian. “You can ask Jason after I show him my score. He’d agree.” 

He frowned, “I was going to show Todd my score.” 

Cain interrupted, amused. “You-both-show-together-Jason-proud.” She said. 

The two guys glared at each other before agreeing. 

Damian hurried to change, ignoring Drake’s whining about how unfair it was that Jason was around to tutor them for Evans’ dreadful class. 

He couldn’t wait to see the look on Thomas’s face when Todd declared that Damian’s essay was better.

In a blink, an hour and a half had already passed. 

Damian kept an eye on the shadows, hoping that one would reveal Todd in all his dramatics. 

Beside him, Signal was doing the same. 

Patrol was boring. There were no rogues or anything remotely dangerous. 

Not that Damian expected less- it was a school night after all.  

As more time passed, the excitement that Damian harbored slowly became replaced with disappointment. 

Hood wasn’t coming. 

The paper in his pocket began to burn.

Still though, he needed to confirm. Even if the answer was obvious. 

His hand pressed on the comm, “Oracle, did Hood go off grid?”

A static and then- “Yeah. The cameras haven’t caught him patrolling tonight. And he isn’t answering my calls. There was probably another emergency with his contacts.” 

Signal sighed, “He sure has been off grid a lot recently. There must be a lot of emergencies.” 

Damian couldn’t help but nod. 

“Say O,”  the meta continued. “Do you know who these contacts are by any chance?” 

Damian wanted to know the same thing.

“I wish,” Oracle said. “Tim and I have been trying to figure it out but nothing. Whenever he leaves Gotham, cameras never seem to pick him up.” 

Todd was annoyingly competent. 

“Tt,” he spoke up. “Whoever his contacts are, they are clearly lacking in skill. It’s as if every few weeks, Todd has an… emergency.”  

He crinkled his nose. Damian was really beginning to hate that word. 

“I agree.” Drake’s voice joined their conversation even though no one asked. “He’s never off grid this much. Even when he’s fighting with B.” The interloper was whining now. “If he keeps this up, he’d have spent more time away from Gotham instead of in it.” 

Damian froze. No, that couldn’t be the case. 

Todd loved Gotham. 

Todd loved them. 

He shouldn’t be straying so far from them. He never had before. This wasn’t right. 

A thought dawned onto his mind. 

What if he was being blackmailed?

Without thinking, he spoke the question out loud and the comm line suddenly burst with voices. 

Damian wasn’t paying attention though. 

Todd was theirs. 

More Damian’s than anyone else’s though. 

Not that they know that. 

Todd was a Wayne. A bat. And an Al Ghul. 

He was part of Damian’s family in every way that mattered. 

He should be here, with Damian. Not away. 

And definitely not with contacts that were so incompetent that they needed his akhi’s help every few weeks.