Ani The Mage

•───────•°•⭐︎•°•───────•

“Heya Spooky Jr! Wanna get some ice cream?”

Damian just stared, his signature expression of unimpressed plastered across his features. He didn’t even break a smile when you hovered upside down in front of him.

He never did like that nickname.

You found him on a rooftop that had definitely seen better days in downtown Gotham. He and Bruce had spent the past few weeks working on a case that split their heads in half. Maybe it was selfish to ask him of this, especially when you knew he wouldn't say no, but you don't know if you'll ever get the chance to do this with him again.

A smile broke out on your face when he shook his head exasperated. You're positive this night had its tolls- every night in Gotham did, yet he still agreed.

He'd never admit it, but there isn't anything he wouldn't do to keep you smiling. No task would ever prove too arduous, if it meant you looked at him like that every night.

You don't miss the subtle twitch of his lips when he tells Barbara he has something to take care of. There's a scoff and rolling of the eyes Damian partakes in, a response to whatever teasing his family has sent his way. He cuts the line after ensuring that "he'll be back shortly."

That’s how you find yourselves with two cups of melted ice cream on a hill at the Gotham City limits.

“I am going to assume you wanted to discuss something more than ice cream flavors.”

His words cut through the otherwise stillness of the night. There's a sharpness to them that gives him away. He knows there's something more, something you're hiding.

“What? We can’t just get ice cream like old times?”

“When have you and I ever just gotten ice cream.”

Your face heats from memories of late nights that held better news, and of early mornings when you thought the world was yours for the taking.

You don't look at him. A silence falling over you both. He doesn't miss how you've grown a sudden interest in stirring your melted ice cream.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with your recent meeting on Oa.”

He doesn't phrase it like a question. No, it's a statement. He's giving you the opportunity to be honest with him, to be as bare with him as he's allowed himself to be with you. It's not like you've lied to him; you just go around news and opening up in different ways than he does.

Over the course of whatever it is you have with him, you've learned how to meet him in the middle.

“You never were one to miss anything, were you Dami?”

It's almost heartbreaking to see his walls start to go up. It's as if he's picked up a trowel and started laying the clay and bricks himself. After spending years breaking down the fortress of Damian Wayne, you can't quite hold back the sigh at how quickly he manages to build them back up again.

He stays silent, giving you the space to speak the words that will destroy the night.

“I’ve been reassigned sectors.”

The words don't sound right as they leave your mouth.

You never were skilled at giving bad news. They land somewhere in the inch that separates your shoulders; not quite meeting him, but not staying on your skin either.

“Ah…" his voice comes out too quiet, too small for the man that's speaking them.

You swallow, “yeah.”

The silence is almost devastating. You want to take the words back, pull them back into your mouth, and bury them so deep in your stomach that they'll never see the light of day. Anything to avoid this air neither of you can breathe in.

“For how long?”

You knew he'd ask, you bet yourself ten dollars it would be his first question, but a selfish part of you hoped he wouldn't. The sick part of you hoped he'd be angry enough to scoff and stalk away, if only to make this easier for you.

“How long?” he asks again, when you can't bring yourself to admit it the first time.

“That’s the thing,” your eyes meet his devastating green ones with a bittersweet expression, “I don’t know.”

“I-" his eyebrows pull together, "I don’t understand.”

“The sector I’ve been reassigned too has been having some… " there's a pause while you try to figure out how to phrase the disaster the guardians filled you in on, "well, political instability to put it diplomatically-“

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, annoyance seeping in, “And when have you ever been diplomatic?”

You shoot him a look and he just about glues his lips shut. He knew there were only certain lines he could cross before you constructed scissors to cut his tongue off, and he was starting to get close.

“-And one of their green lanterns recently passed away. So I was reassigned to it until further notice.” You swallow before dropping the bomb, “Possibly permanently.”

He turns to you in an instant, barely succeeding in concealing how appalled he is, “Surely Jordan-“

“Has no say, Dami.” your lips pull solemnly on your face. “I volunteered anyway. It was supposed to be just until the political environment stabilized, but I offered to stay after as well. It all depends on the new green lantern they’re assigned, they need someone experienced for the time being.”

“And why would you do that?”

He didn't seem to register anything after hearing you volunteered.

“Why wouldn’t I?” now it's your turn to get annoyed, “What do I have here, Damian? Realistically? What's here?”

He’s silent at the rhetorical question. You place the cup of melted ice cream on the grass next to you, before turning to him.

“I have an associates degree I got with a 2.5 GPA, a washed up figure skating career I gave up for the Corps, and a shit retail job that gives me no PTO, despite being an Assistant Manager.”

It was the obvious choice to volunteer. There wasn't a lot you had going for you on Earth. The corps wasn't exactly a top ten paying career.

“You have me.”

His voice comes out impossibly small. It almost doesn't sound like him. If you hadn't spent the better part of most nights listening to him recount stories he'd never uttered before, you wouldn't have recognized it.

Despite the sentiment being sweet, you scoff. He at the very least, has the decency to not act offended at your reaction.

“You do.” he attempts to reiterate the statement, as if it'll make it any more true than it is now.

“Damian, stop." you shake your head, tears fighting to break free from your lower eye lid, "you’ve never had a habit of lying to me before, don’t pick it up now.”

“I’m not lying.”

“But you’re not telling me the truth either.” his lips clamp together, the protest dying in his throat, “I’ve never had you- not completely anyway, and that’s okay. I've accepted it. I knew it when I decided to get involved with you. The mission always come first, right?”

He looks as if he’s been shot when you repeat those words to him. The same words he said to you all those months ago, when you asked him why you couldn’t be something more.

“It’s what I’ve always loved about you Damian, your dedication to this city, to the cause, to the people. I knew you were never going to pick me." you swallow the lump in your throat, he looks more broken than you've ever see him, "If it came down to the mantle or me, it would be the latter.”

It was the truth. There was no way to disguise it, no other way to dress it up. Deep down in places he doesn't want to think about, he knew it as well it as you did.

He almost hates how easy you accept it. There's a part of him he attempt to not dwell on, that hopes you would fight for him. Had you fought him on the decision at all, he'd like to think he could've made it work; the same way father did for Selina.

“I wanted to pick you.” he whispers into the night, almost like a secret- or an oath.

And that, that you do believe.

Just for a second, you let yourself imagine what it would’ve been like. What it would mean to be a priority in the life of Damian Wayne- to be his North Star. His eyes are boring into you; and behind the storm drowning them, you know he's picturing the same.

“I think we could’ve been good together,” you match his whisper, “you and me.”

“It would’ve been nice,” he agrees.

You see it all in his eyes. They held the portal to a reality you'll never have- a reality you would've traded everything away for.

And Damian sees it in yours: The future that could've been. The future you'll never have.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looks away before deciding to bite the bullet and ask, “When is the earliest you would be back, if the sector is assigned a competent lantern?”

“The earliest?” you puff your cheeks with air, exhaling with an unsure expression, “Two years probably?”

He nods dutifully while you kick your feet against the grass, your eyes cataloguing him to memory.

“I will wait.”

“Please don’t.”

The response is instant, and his neck snaps in your direction. You’re not sure who’s heart breaks first when he notices your eyes are glassy.

“Please don’t wait for me," you try not to think too hard on how your words sound oddly like a plea, "I don’t know if I’ll be back in two years or at all. The last thing I want is for you to be waiting for something that might not happen." you swallow hard, taking a deep breath before telling him, "I want you find someone.”

“I won’t.”

“You will Damian." and for the first time all evening, you touch him. Your palm finds his cheeks and he squeezes his eyes shut, leaning into you. "You’ll find some nice sweet girl who’s going to love going to galas with you, who’s going to patch you up at four in the morning, and who’s going to be smart enough to help you with those anatomy studies of yours.”

He shakes his head as if he can will the thought away, “I don’t want that, I want you."

“And there’s nothing more in the world that I would love, than for that to be true.” you can tell in the way his eyes crack open, he hates that you don’t believe him, “But if you did want me, really did, in that way, I would already be yours. You would have already asked me, and we wouldn’t be doing this dance that we’ve grown accustomed to performing in the dark.”

He doesn’t say much after that and neither do you.

The rest of the night escapes you on that hill. He doesn't go back to patrol and can't bring himself to explain why. Sunrise greets you like an old friend that's come too early.

He doesn't move for a good while after you leave. He can't breathe right either.

It isn't until Todd finds him, he manages to stand up again. He wasn't sure what state he must've appeared to be in, because Grayson arrives shortly after as well. And for once, he doesn't mind the company of his two older brothers.

Neither of them say much, just sitting with him until he can bring himself to move on past the hill. He'll never tell them that he only got the courage to leave when the smell of you vanished, and the imprint you left on the grass was gone.

He still has your spoon from that night. It sits on a cup on his desk, the same one that holds his pens.

He still looks to the stars every night on patrol, thinking of you. Almost as if can will you to come back to him.

Because he’ll prove it to you one day.

He’ll prove it to you that he can pick you.

He’ll make sure you never doubt how much he loves you again.

Whether it is in this life or the next, Damian Wayne will wait for you.

But for now, he will love you from afar. Forever waiting for his favorite green star to shoot across the sky and land in his arms one final time.

•───────•°•⭐︎•°•───────•

"Whatcha lookin' at?" You jumped at the sound of your boyfriend's voice.

"Oh—uh, nothing. Just looking at some photos." You felt bad for lying.

"Hm. What photos?" He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, causing his shirt to rise and show off his V-line.

You swallowed thickly, eyeing him up and down. He was wearing gray sweats that hung too low and a black muscle tank he had cropped himself. Talk about an '80s heartthrob.

"It's just photos my friend sent." You could hear her giggling through the phone, saying something along the lines of, "You're in trouble."

"Shut up, I'll call you later." You quickly pressed the red button and locked your phone.

Dick approached the bed, plopping down beside you and resting on his forearm. "Come on, show me… or you're gonna make me think you're doing something naaaughty." He sang the last word, tilting his head as he looked at you with those big doe eyes you adored so much.

You felt horrible finding another man attractive when you had such a caring, loving boyfriend right here. You pouted, looking down at your phone and then back at him. With a sigh, you turned your phone back on and showed him.

"We were talking about Nightwing and how… cute he is."

Dick examined the picture for a second before smirking. "Can't blame you. Dude's got killer quads."

Your eyes widened for a second. "Wait… you're not upset?" You eyed him suspiciously.

He scoffed out a laugh. "No. Why would I be? He's nice-looking. Plus, I got something he doesn't."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What?"

"You." He swiftly sat up, yanking your thighs toward him and wrapping your legs around his torso. He leaned down, trapping you beneath him as he placed a hand beside your head. Your stomach immediately erupted with butterflies.

"No matter how many superheroes you have a crush on, I'll always have your heart." He smiled, holding your chin in between his thumb and index finger.

"And you're just okay with this?"

He shrugged. "What can I do? You have eyes. Plus, I know you're loyal. It's like you liking one of those anime guys—it's just never going to happen."

You gasped, lightly hitting his chest. “Rude!”

He laughed, but something in his eyes told you he was holding back. You didn't know what it was, but you weren't going to worry about it.

Jason T.

You were watching the late-night news when a story about Red Hood popped up. He had saved the mayor from an assassination attempt. The news reporter stood outside the building where the crime had taken place, explaining how it all went down.

A moment later, they showed shaky phone footage of him carrying the mayor over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while shooting at what you assumed were the bad guys.

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a smile.

“Mmm, what a man,” you whispered to yourself.

“What was that?”Your boyfriend peeked up from his book.

“Oh, uh… nothing. Just watching the news.” You cleared your throat and pointed to the TV.

“Hm.”

You avoided his gaze and continued watching.

“You… don’t like him, do you?” he asked, marking his page before closing the book. Heat rose up your neck and spread across your cheeks.

“No… maybe?” You winced, not wanting to look at him. “Okaaay! I do. He’s hot, and strong, and he’s for the people!”

Jason scoffed.

“I mean, this guy is like a tank.” He can take a hit and keep moving. I once saw a video of him take out ten drug dealers at once and just walk it off.”

Jason shook his head in disapproval.

“He’s a murderer. Trust me, there’s nothing to admire about him.”His body became tense, almost as if the more he thought about Red Hood, the angrier he got.

A deep silence fell over the room for a few seconds. You slouched into yourself with a frown.

“I-I wouldn’t say that, Jason…”

You continued, “Red Hood is a lifesaver. He fights for the little guys who can’t protect themselves. He might take lives, but what would you rather have—an innocent person dead or a psychotic human trafficker running around the streets?”

“And dare I say…” You covered your face with both hands like you’d just confessed to a crime. “…he’s better than Batman.”

Complete shock took over his face watching you hide behind your hands. Jason’s cheeks turned a dusty rose color.

“Wh-what?! You think Red Hood’s better than Batman?”

“Well, yes. He gets rid of the bad guys. Batman just puts them in jail—or barely that—and then they break out and repeat the cycle. Now, in no way, shape, or form am I saying murder is right. Absolutely not. BUT if it’s between a mom and her kids or a killer clown… kill the clown.”

Jason was stunned. He’d never heard you speak about a topic this adamantly before—not unless it was about one of those romance books you read or the political state of the world. But never about vigilantes or what people like to call anti-hero’s.

Honestly, he was kind of proud.

“I… for the first time in years, I’m speechless.” He admitted.

You shrugged and switched the TV over to Netflix.

“Well, that’s just my take on it. Don’t get too mad over it. I just prefer Red Hood over Batman.”

While you flipped through the menu looking for a movie, Jason hid a proud smile behind his hand. You had unknowingly made him fall for you even harder.

Tim D.

You and your boyfriend Tim were having your monthly shopping trip. He held your hand while carrying your bag in his other hand, while simultaneously being on his phone. You weren’t upset because you knew he was taking care of business.

You smiled happily swinging his hand back and forth looking into the shops as you passed by. One shop in particular caught your attention. You let out a gasp, dragging him behind you.

“Look Tim! It’s Red Robin plushies, oh my goodness.” You smiled gushing over the plushies on display in the window.

“Come, I want one!” You dragged your boyfriend into the shop. You were in awe they had all the justice league in plushie form, including Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin. Of course your favorite was Red Robin.

“Uh babe?”

“Hmm?” You asked looking at the wall of trinkets.

You browsed through the stickers, keychains, bracelets— they had so much stuff. You could spend a fortune in here.

“Just out of curiosity when did you start liking Red Robin?” He asked watching you be so giddy over the overpriced items.

“What do you mean silly I’ve always liked him— I oooh this one would go so well in my car! Imma hang it from the mirror.” You smile waving a tiny Red Robin symbol in his face.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? You’ve never mentioned this guy.”

You frowned. You looked up at nothing trying to remember if you mentioned him or not. You shrug, maybe you didn’t…oops.

“I swear i did, if I didn’t yes I like Red Robin. He’s such the hot nerdy type…kinda like you!”You smirked teasing him. Tim’s face grew a bright red.

“You think I’m hot? Wait— nerdy?!”

You shrugged, “well yes, you’re incredibly smart, very handsome, an extremely hard worker, you manage to remember things I’ve said only once…which is a bit scary but I kinda like it.”

“All the qualities I love in a guy, plus you have a killer physique. Definitely a sleeper build.” You smirked pecking his lips. He stood there stunned, like the first time you ever kissed him.

“Sleeper build?” He repeated your words as if it was a foreign language. If he wasn’t blushing he was blushing now.

You spent the last ten minutes collecting figurines, plushies and stickers of Red Robin and Tim happily paid for it all. The most eager he’s ever been to spend money.

“You actually like Red Robin? Not many people remember he’s even a Robin…” he trialed off with a long look in his eye.

“Of course I do, he’s very brave and smart. People pay more attention to Nightwing but I think he’s just as cool.”

Tim fell silent watching the road as he drove. It wasn’t an awkward silence just a comfortable one almost like he was thinking.

“You said I…had a killer physique?” He glanced at you then back at the road.

You kind of cringed at the word choice hearing it from him.

“maybe, why bring it up now?” You gave him a teasing look.

“Nothing…just wanna show you what it can do. If you allow me” he glanced over to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. You felt the car pick up speed, you let out a flustered giggle.

“You’re a mess Tim.”

Damian W.

You were lying on your boyfriend’s bed while he was immersed in his sketchbook. You were scrolling through Twitter when you pass a tweet posted by Gotham’s_Gossip, it was about Robin.

Robin saves civilians from The Riddler only for said civilians to still feel unsafe. A trash title paired with a blurry picture of Robin swinging from rooftops.

Out of curiosity you clicked the post to read to comments and to your surprise they were really mean.

‘Not surprised he’s rude.’

‘Believable. He saved me from a thief than told me I’m an idiot for being out late’

‘Boooo. Never liked him anyways. That can’t be the same robin batman had before, he was such a joy’

‘Lol why is this kinda funny’

You frowned scrolling further down and they all were hate comments.

“What incompetent people, they wouldn’t know a good hero if they smacked them in the face.” you mumbled spam reporting the post.

“What’s the matter?” Damians smooth voice drifted through the room.

You shut your phone off smacking it on the bed, “nothing its just…Gotham is so hard on Robin. He’s doing his best, all heroes don’t have to be all smiles and rainbows. The guy saved your life and you’re complaining? If I were him I’d let them get roughed up a bit before helping.”

Amused Damian’s lips held a slight smile.

“Beloved, why are you so adamant about defending Robin?”

You shrugged sitting up “I dunno, I always liked him I guess.” You whispered the last part hoping Damian didn’t hear but of course he heard.

Now intrigued he closed his sketchbook and sat up from his desk.

“You…like Robin?” He asked voice full of skepticism.

You contemplated on answering that question. Damian has always had a jealousy streak no matter how many times he denied it, you could always tell.

“Well yes” you answered carefully. “He’s very calculated, strong and incredibly smart when it comes to taking down bad guys bigger than him.”

Damians cocked an eyebrow.

“He doesn’t have to be like Superman. Smiling and taking photos, he’s already putting his life on the line to save the city the least they can do is say thank you geez. You don’t see Mary Sue going out at night with her child’s baseball bat beating up criminals do you?”

For some odd reason that got a small chuckle out of Damian. Maybe the thought of a middle aged mom with a bat sitting on rooftops waiting for criminals amused him.

You chuckled too imagining it.

“It is nothing to worry about, my heart. I’m sure those comments do not bother him. He seems very disciplined and couldn’t care less about what those people think.”

You snorted. “Well they should appreciate him more.”

Damian’s expression softened ever so slightly, “You speak as though you know him personally.”

“I don’t.” You quickly defended. “I just think people are unfair. Everyone praises Batman, but Robin is out there doing the same thing. He’s younger too. That has to be difficult, especially juggling his personal life along with being a vigilante.”

For a moment Damian simply stared at you. Difficult? Most people assumed Robin enjoyed the danger, the violence, the endless patrols. Very few stopped to consider the weight that came with the mantle.

“You think highly of him.”

You nodded “Someone has to, plus I think he kinda cute ” The answer came so quickly Damian almost choked on air.

You frowned looking at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying not to laugh ” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I am just merely surprised that is all.” Damian leaned back against his chair. “Tell me. What else do you admire about this Robin?”

You groaned immediately. “See? This is why I didn’t want to answer.”

“Answer.” He pressed.

“You’re being weird about it.” You picked up a pillow throwing it at him, but he caught it effortlessly.

“And you are avoiding the question.” You narrowed your eyes before finally relenting.

“Fine. I think he’s brave.” Damian’s teasing expression faltered. “Brave?”

“Yeah. People hate him, criminals want him dead, reporters make fun of him, and he still goes out every night. I’d quit I don’t have time for all of that.”

A strange warmth settled in Damian’s chest. “You would quit?”

“Oh absolutely. Gotham would be on its own, good luck with fighting off alien and psychotic clowns.” That earned a genuine laugh from him.

You blinked shocked, Damian isn’t the type of person who laughs a lot. Especially not at your corny jokes “Wow. You’re really enjoying this conversation.”

He shrugged not hiding it, “Perhaps.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspicious as to why this conversation amused him so much. “Should I be concerned?”

“No.” He simply answered but the smile never left his face.

You pointed accusingly at him. “You know, for someone who claims not to care about Robin, you’re awfully invested in hearing me compliment him.”

Damian nearly gave himself away. “Perhaps I simply have excellent taste in conversation.” With that he turned around opening his sketchbook once again.

You shrugged him off laying back down busying yourself on your phone.

While you had discussed your friendship with Dick briefly with Steph, Cass, and Tim, you did so with the idea that you wouldn't have to talk to him anytime soon.

Of course, he showed up at the Manor mere hours after your conversation with Steph and Cass.

You had gone another round with Steph, attempting to work on your footing when you heard the echo of footsteps across the cave. You turned to see who entered, only to see the face of—

"Dick?" Your eyes widen, turning to face him completely. He offers a small wave with an oddly strained smile. As a result, Steph takes the chance to knock you down, a firm punch sent straight toward your chest. You yelp out in surprise, stumbling backwards, sending her a sharp look.

She smirks, "Don't lose focus."

Dick walks over to you slowly, Tim following behind him. You try to catch Tim's eyes, but he obstinately avoids your questioning gaze. "I…" he looks you up and down, noting the workout clothes, "wasn't aware you were back."

You chuckle at his dispirited tone, "No need to sound too excited."

Dick's eyebrows raise exaggeratedly at your response, "No- What? Of course, I'm excited to see you—"

Your chuckles turn into laughter, "I was joking. It's not your fault you didn't know." You shrugged, tugging at a loose piece of gauze wrapped around your knuckles.

Dick eyes your hands before looking behind you to Steph and Cass, both blatantly listening to your conversation. "And you're training? Since when did you do that?" He smiles, eyebrows furrowing.

"Couple months ago." You raise your hand in a so-so motion.

Dick whips his head back to you, "Couple months—" He turns back to Tim, who has decidedly not made eye contact with a single person in this room upon entry. Dick slowly turns back to you, looking down at your lightly scuffed hand, "I would've taught you if you asked." He frowns.

You smile sheepishly, "I wanted to get to know Steph and Cass better." Dick looks back towards the girls, who smile smugly back at him.

"Oh," he nods slowly, "yeah, okay." He looks down at your hands. "Are they doing a good job? Because I can always—"

You roll your eyes, "Yeah, they're doing great." You smile at them.

He nods slowly, "Great."

You purse your lips, turning towards Steph and Cass. They smirk at you, and you pretend to ignore their expressions. "So… When'd you get back? I thought you were in Blüdhaven?"

Dick nods, "Yeah, I was, but there was some crossover on a case Tim was looking at in Gotham, so I figured it was easier if I just showed up." He points his thumb back to Tim.

You nod, "Ah, great." You attempt to grin at him. Why does this feel so awkward? "You couldn't say anything?" You lean around Dick, addressing Tim directly.

"Okay, I didn't know he'd be coming here. He kinda just burst into my room—"

"We should catch up!" Dick cut him off, moving in front of you to block your view of Tim.

You blink, "Oh," you smile, "yeah, we should. You free anytime soon?"

"Right now." He slings an arm around your shoulder casually, causing you to falter, letting out a surprised huff under the unexpected weight.

Meanwhile, Tim catches the eye of Steph and Cass. Cass shakes her head, while Steph smiles, walking over to him. "You know what I know, right?" She whispers.

"If you're referring to what I think you're referring to, then yes, yes I do." He whispers back, watching as Dick drags you away.

"Y'know it's funny, we were just talking about him." Steph raises an eyebrow dubiously. "So you knew and still brought him down here?"

"I was not about to say no. You're just lucky you weren't the one he confronted."

"Was he upset that he didn't know she was here?"

"He burst into my room. I think he was a little upset."

Steph crosses her arms as she looks at you. As if sensing their gaze, you turn around, narrowing your eyes at the three of them before refocusing your attention on Dick.

"How'd he figure out she was here?" Steph offers a small wave, with two thumbs up.

"He overheard you guys."

Steph slowly turns to Tim. Cass doesn't even flinch at the statement, still staring at your retreating figure as Dick guides you around the cave.

She throws her punching mitts on the ground, "Damn, I knew something was up."

Tim looked toward the now-grounded mitts, "And… you said nothing to her?"

"Lowkey thought I was losing it." She kicks the mitts lightly.

"Sure, you still aren't?" He retorts, causing her to look at him in offense.

"Why are you insulting me? You're the one who let him down here." She points an accusing finger at him.

"He let himself down here. I just followed to make sure he didn't do anything stupid." They frown at each other in a silent staring contest.

"You wanted to know what'd happen." Steph sighs.

"I wanted to know what'd happen." Tim admits, nodding.

The three look to where Dick has dragged you over to, talking animatedly as you nod along. "Well, it looks like he's having fun catching up."

"Let him have his moment." Tim shrugs.

"—and so I've been Nightwing for a while now." Dick walks by your side as the two of you walk through the cave.

You hum, "I remember you being attached to Robin. I'm surprised that you gave it up." You walk over to Jason's costume on display. Dick winces as you approach it.

"I wasn't happy at first, that's for sure." Dick looks towards the costume.

"You miss it at all?" You gesture to the costume.

"Eh," he shrugs, "There's a couple of things I miss, but I like being Nightwing."

"Like what?" You ask, turning towards him.

"Well, you for one." He meets your gaze.

You bark out a surprised laugh; it was so unapologetically him. "Aw, how sentimental."

Dick snorts, a grin on his face, "Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't enjoy working with me."

"It was probably one of the more interesting experiences in high school." You admit, nodding in agreement.

Dick blinks, taken aback, "I thought that was meeting me?"

"Nah, that was just funny." You chuckle, placing your hand on his arm, he looks down at your hand. "Most interesting was being kidnapped by Batman."

"Kidnapped? If I remember correctly, you willingly got in." He didn't move an inch.

"Yeah, but how exactly do you say no to," you take your hands off his arm, putting your fingers up like his ears, dropping your voice, "'Get in.'"

Dick laughs loudly, "Okay, yeah, that's fair." He rubs his thumb along the spot where your hand was.

Your eyes crinkle in fondness. You forgot how easy it was to be with him. "It's really good to see you."

He seemingly deflates at the comment, "Yeah." He looks down at the costume, then back to where Tim, Cass, and Steph were across the cave, before turning toward you, "Why didn't you try to contact me?"

You blink, okay, straight into it.

You scratch your neck, "I figured I would've seen you sooner or later. I didn't want to distract you."

He scoffs lightly, but there's something hidden underneath it, "I'm pretty sure a quick greeting wouldn't be that big of a distraction."

You frown, "I…" You really didn't have a good excuse, and you knew that. What could you tell him? Heyyy, so I actually had a really big crush on you back in high school, but I grew out of it… Wanna get Bat Burger? Yeah, that'd go great.

He furrows his eyebrows, his gaze deadset on you, "Is… Is there another reason?" He asks softly.

You blink up at him, looking into his expectant eyes. He was frowning, but it almost looked like a pout. His arms were still crossed, and his body language was still stiff. "I—"

"Richard, I wasn't aware of your return." Damian cut you off, causing you to jump in surprise, flinching into the glass. Dick grabs your shoulder to stabilize you.

"What— Damian? When did you get here?" Dick frowns, not taking his hand off your shoulder.

Damian narrows his eyes at the hand on your shoulder. You subtly shift to the side, causing Dick to let go. "Evidently, your observational skills have been compromised since the last time you were here."

"You could just say I was distracted." Dick sighs.

"'Distraction,'" Damian spits the word venomously, "would not aptly describe your current state." He looks between the two of you.

Dick frowns, glancing between you and Damian, "Do I want to know what would describe it?" Dick responds. You shake your head from his left, and Dick's lips twitch in amusement at your exasperation.

Damian glares at the two of you, "I wasn't aware of your prior affections with one another."

You both blink at the kid slowly, (noting that Steph laughs sharply in the background at the comment).

"I believe you've severely misunderstood the situation." You wave your hands casually.

Damian raises an eyebrow, looking at Dick's spaced-out expression. You nudge him, making him refocus. "Tt," Damian scoffs before crossing his arms.

You stand awkwardly behind Dick, watching as he attempts to explain himself to Damian. Turning to the side, you see Steph, Cass, and Tim all looking towards you with varying degrees of mischief on their face.

You aren't entirely sure what Dick and Damian are talking about, but the harsh whispers give you an idea. "I'm gonna go with Steph," you mutter, turning around, thinking that the two arguing wouldn't hear you.

Both of their attention snaps to you, "Go where?" Damian demands.

You blink, "Uhh... Bat Burger?" You hadn't planned on Bat Burger, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

Dick shoves Damian aside, covering him with his larger form, "I'll go with you!" Dick grins, rushing to your side. You furrow your eyebrows, mouth open as you watch Damian fume at the action. Is this their normal?

Damian squawks out something unintelligible, "I will join you as well!"

"Oh," you turn toward Steph, who is struggling to hold in laughter. "Great."

Tim raises his hand, "Can we join too?" He gestures between himself and Cass.

"Tim—" Dick looks towards him, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Of course! The more the merrier." The grin on Steph's face is positively devious.

"Didn't realize you were staging a reunion." Damian huffs, walking up to your unoccupied side.

"Me neither." You slowly walk over to Steph with Dick and Damian at your sides. "Alright, guess we'll head out." You sigh, looking towards Tim, who smiles innocently at you.

It's silent for a moment. "Can I drive?" Damian asks.

The five of you turn toward Damian, exasperated.

—

You sit squished in a booth between Steph and Cass. Across from you are Tim, Dick, and Damian, with Dick directly in front of you. You silently munch on your Jokerized Fries, the only sounds being Dick loudly sipping his straw and the soft chatter of the restaurant.

You look down at your meal before glancing up to Dick, who has not stopped eyeing you this whole time. "So… You guys come here often?"

Damian frowns, his eye twitching at the question, "Rarely, this cash-grab of a company's mediocre food isn't worth our time."

Tim slowly turns to him, looking past Dick squished in between them, "You know you could just tell them they forgot your toy instead of insulting their entire business." The whole table stares down at Damian's Bat-Mite meal, no toy present.

Damian glares at him, "I refuse to beg an underpaid employee for something so trivial as a figure meant to entertain toddlers."

Tim blinks at him, unimpressed, "A 'no' would've sufficed, but okay." You snort.

"Y'know, with how many of us there are here, we should've just invited everybody else." Steph takes a bite out of her burger. "Made it a whole thing."

"Yeah, cause it wouldn't be weird for like ten people to storm a Batburger. They would definitely not be overwhelmed." Tim took a fry from your plate.

"Seriously? You already finished your own." You place your arm in front of your french fry holder, blocking him from it, glaring.

Tim shrugs, "I know, right? Crazy. Anyway, as it is, they taste better from somebody else's plate."

Steph nods solemnly, "He's right…" She nudges your side. "Could Cass and I have one?"

You sigh, shoving the box in their direction.

"I sense bias." Tim shakes his head at you, narrowing his eyes.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes, "They didn't buy any."

"You're nicer to them than you were to me!"

"Yeah, 'cause they asked."

Dick chuckles, grabbing your attention. You turn to face him, "Oh, so you're laughing."

Dick, still laughing, waves his hand towards you, "No…" He clears his throat, "Nope." He gives you his best poker face.

You raise an eyebrow, "Got it…" You shake your head, disappointedly. "You're on his side." You put your hand on your chest as if wounded.

"Okay, wow, I never said that." Dick meets your stare, pointing a finger at you, his elbow resting on the table.

"You haven't disproved it." You look down at your fries, picking up a limp one before eating it.

Dick scoffs, an amused smile on his face, before shoving his own fries to you. You look down at his peace offering before looking up to him. Damian and Tim lean back in the booth seat, sharing a knowing glance with each other from behind Dick's head.

"What?" Dick frowns at your befuddled expression.

"Why're you giving me your fries?"

"I thought you liked them?"

"Clearly not as much as Tim."

Both of you turn toward Tim, "Do not involve me in this." He laughs, turning away from you both.

"Consider it a peace offering?"

"So you admit you were on his side." You sigh, trying to fight a smile on your face.

Dick looks so disheartened by your rejection that you almost give in.

"Just accept the fries, for our sake." Damian is covering his eyes with his hands, almost as if he doesn't want to be associated with you guys anymore.

Dick nudges his fries closer to you, a small smile on his face. You snort, "Alright, truce." You slide the fries over to you, and his eyes light up slightly at the action. Damian gives him a troubled glance before looking at you.

Even after spending a couple of months around him, you still struggle to read Damian. This is one of those moments. By the way he's looking between the two of you, you wonder if he knows something you don't.

You began eating your fries again once the conversation settled into normalcy (or whatever is closest to it). However, you quickly ran into an issue. You had finished your meal, but still had the fries that Dick had left you. The issue was that you were full. You look at the daunting fry container.

You look up slightly to see Dick watching you. You slowly pick up one fry and eat it. Dick smiles at you, kicking you slightly from under the table. Narrowing your eyes, you smirk as you kick him under the table. Peace offering your ass.

"Are you playing footsies under the table?" Damian asks, face scrunched scornfully, looking down at the table.

"I would like it on the record that he started it for no good reason." You take another fry, offering the container to Cass and Steph, who eagerly take some.

"Not even gonna take a little bit of the blame? You are just as guilty as I am!" Dick holds his hands up, outraged.

"It was self-defense!" You cross your arms, stepping on his foot for emphasis.

Steph coughs awkwardly, "Not to interrupt your quarrel, but we are being a tiny bit disruptive."

"It's Gotham, no one cares." Tim rolls his eyes.

"It's called being considerate."

"There's nobody here."

"Oh, so we're just ignoring all the workers now?"

Damian mutters something in Arabic, standing up and walking out of the restaurant, momentarily distracting you from your argument with Dick.

"Should we go with him?" You point your thumb at Damian's retreating form.

"He'll find a way home." Tim shrugs.

You frown, "That… sounds wildly irresponsible."

"I'll rephrase: he doesn't want us to follow him home." Dick takes a fry from your container.

"…Didn't you give that to me?"

"Yeah," he chews on the fry unapologetically.

You glance down at the container, then back up to him.

"Oh, don't give me that. I gave it to you. It's fair that I can take a few."

"Kinda defeats the purpose of 'giving.'"

"Think of it as a tax."

You scoff, looking at the nearly empty container of fries. Between the entire table, they had managed to demolish it. You slide the rest of the fries over to Cass.

Dick looks offended, "Why were you mad about me taking one fry when you give it to Cass five seconds later?"

"It's not about the fries, Dick."

On your side, you hear Steph gasps a quiet "Ooooh!"

Tim schools his expression to avoid laughing. You notice Cass smiles under the guise of eating fries. Steph is openly enjoying this display.

Why did you agree to do this? Maybe you should've left with Damian.

Thankfully, Cass proposed that the (now) five of you leave after that comment. Thank goodness for her timing, because Dick suddenly looked like he had a lot more to say after you're "Not about the fries!" comment.

You all return to the cave, and most of them immediately go to get ready for patrol. You frown, turning to your left, where Dick is. "You gonna go on patrol?"

"Yeah," he sounds hesitant, not making eye contact with you.

Sensing his hesitation, you raise an eyebrow, "I sense a 'but.'"

He looks toward you, "Well… Are you planning on staying?"

You blink, "Why… would I do that?" You frown, bemused.

"Well, if you've been here for months," okay, maybe he is still a little upset about you not telling him, "I figured you'd have room here. Bruce certainly has the room."

"Oh," you nod at his logical conclusion, "Well, I don't." You shrug, unbothered.

The tension leaves his shoulders, and he smiles, "Do you want to stay the night? It's pretty late out."

"I wouldn't want to intrude. Plus, it's late, I don't wanna make Alfred have to set up a guest room at the last minute." You politely decline.

"You can just stay in mine." Dick offers, gauging your reaction.

You raise an eyebrow, "Geez, at least take me to dinner first."

Now, Dick would make comments like this all the time when you were teenagers. Over time, you learned how to tune them out, knowing that it was just who Dick Grayson was. Sure, the first couple of times he caught you off guard, but you learned to roll your eyes and laugh it off.

Never in your life have you done the same to him.

It was a throwaway comment, something he'd say in jest. You had said it without much care. However, upon seeing his mouth part in surprise, even coughing to hide his reaction, you couldn't help but stare.

What the hell happened in the years you hadn't seen him? Last you checked, this was not a certified "Dick Grayson Reaction."

You are caught so off guard by his reaction that you momentarily forget he hasn't actually responded.

"I— Well, you don't have to take it. It was just a suggestion. I probably won't be staying here tonight anyway—"

You furrow your eyebrows, "Dick, I was kidding." You cut him off.

He smacks his lips, "Right." He rubs his hands together.

You chuckle, "Sorry, I can't stay, perhaps another time though? I don't wanna drive too late. Just let me know whenever you're around, we can plan something—"

"I'll be around." Dick cuts you off, nodding.

"Oh," you part your mouth in surprise, "Okay… Well, just text me whenever then. Have fun on patrol, punch a bad guy for me." You place your hand on his shoulder before moving to exit the cave.

Dick barely moves as he watches you walk out. Right as you're about to exit his view, you wave, causing him to wave back. He watches as you vanish.

"That was hard to watch." Tim appears.

Dick slowly turns to him, "Where did you come from?"

"Stop trying to change the subject." Tim glares at him, putting a hand on his hip. "What was that?"

Dick blinks innocently, "What was what?"

"Don't play dumb. What was the 'Oh, you can stay in my room!'" Tim mocks him, holding his hand up to his face bashfully.

"I did not sound like that." Dick furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head.

"Might as well have! I thought you were cool just being friends!" Tim crosses his arms.

"I am!" Dick walks over to the computer, taking off his jacket.

Tim raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. "Could've fooled me."

"It's none of your business anyway. Like— Why did you invite yourself to Bat Burger?" Dick crosses his arm over his body, stretching it.

"'Cause I wanted burgers?"

"That's not the reason, and you know it." Dick points an accusing finger at him mid-stretch.

"Am I not allowed to like burgers?"

Dick scoffs, grabbing his jacket before heading to change into his suit. "I know what you're thinking."

"Yeah, can you blame me?"

Dick didn't respond.

—

The drive back was relatively silent. You meant to put music on, but you completely forgot because all you could think of was the day that occurred. First, you stumble onto Dick after not seeing him for years. That is, of course, after you conveniently forget to mention that you've been regularly visiting Wayne Manor for months.

Then, you end up at a Bat Burger at 10pm with half of the eponymous vigilantes. After that, you come back to the Manor and Dick Grayson— the same Dick Grayson you had loved— offers for you to stay in his room. When you make a joke about the comment, he actually gets flustered. Flustered!

Upon arriving in Central Gotham near Coventry, you sigh, getting out of your car.

What a night.

You wonder how they do it sometimes, you feel exhausted, and all you did today was go to work and train. Not even patrol. Upon entering your apartment, you have to use all your willpower to stay standing. Rushing through your night routine, you eventually plop onto bed, letting sleep take you into its grasp.

The next day started out normally.

You had woken up at a reasonable time and gotten ready relatively fast. You had even decided to walk to that one bakery a couple of blocks down that you liked. You were early enough that all the pastries were fresh. You walked out with a chocolate croissant. It was going great.

Then you heard shouting and gunshots.

Of course, living in Gotham, you weren't surprised. However, that didn't mean you were stupid. Usually, when a person senses danger, it's common sense to walk away from it. However, it seemed that the crime started to follow you.

At this point, you were speedwalking— almost running away. The yelling had gotten much closer, and you were not about to get shot today. Just as you thought that maybe it's time to start running, you get tackled to the ground.

What has been going on recently?

You and the criminal, covered in a balaclava, both stared at each other in shock. You turned your gaze to whatever— whoever was chasing them.

"Oh," Red Hood jumps down next to you, addressing you by full name. Is this just going to be a thing between you both now? He stomps his boot onto the guy's throat, causing him to cough loudly, trapping the guy to the ground.

You click your tongue, "It's— uh," well, you can't exactly call him by his full name, "you."

Red Hood holds his hands out in a grand gesture, "Oh yes, me." You don't think you are imagining the smugness in his tone. You watch as he tilts his head down slightly.

You look down at the guy on the ground, who is quickly turning pale, "Hey, uh, I know this may be a big ask, but could you maybe not kill this guy right in front of me?" Your eyes flicker between Red Hood and the criminal.

The sound is distorted, but you think Jason snorts behind his mask. He kicks the man's head, and he stops moving.

You couldn't stop your look of horror if you tried.

"I was aware that it may have been a bit much to ask, but seriously?!" You cover your mouth.

Jason grabs the body, "Relax, he ain't dead. Just unconscious." He slings him over his shoulder.

"Oh, okay…" You nod, watching as he shifts the body on his shoulder. "I thought you're mainly in Crime Alley."

"I am," he answers. Well, somebody isn't very talkative.

"So, why're you here?"

"Because I have free will? What? Do you think I'm locked in Crime Alley?"

You nod, "Absolutely, still aren't sure if I'm imagining you or not."

Now he definitely laughs. You look down at your scattered items, picking up your now smushed croissant.

He's about to walk off when, "Hey, could you buy me a new one?"

Red Hood slowly turns toward you, "You serious?"

You nod, "I know you're rich. You probably got that crime lord money." You do the "money" gesture with your hand.

He remains silent.

"Is that a yes…?" You smile hopefully.

He sighs, walking back over to you, body slung over his shoulder. "Make it quick."

You grin.

-

If you thought yesterday was crazy, then somehow today is even crazier.

You are sitting in that bakery with Red Hood, who is leaning back lazily in a wooden chair that looks tiny in comparison to him. On his left is another chair with the criminal tied up. You take a bite of your croissant slowly, enjoying the scene.

Like you said, quite the morning.

"Y'know, I kinda feel bad that I'm the only one eating." You cross your legs.

Red Hood doesn't move. "You forced me here, and are using my money for this."

"I can't force you. I think you'd win that battle, but it'd be close." You take a bite of your croissant as Red Hood snorts.

"Yeah, real close."

"I'll have you know I've been training." You glare at him defensively.

"Oooh," he holds his hands up, "did your 'not-bestie' train you? You gonna beat me in a backflip competition?"

"Name the time and date." You smile.

Jason shakes his head, crossing his arms.

"No, seriously though, I wasn't joking. Please get something. I feel bad now."

Jason sighs, looking down at your croissant. "What would you recommend?"

You grin, "Any of their croissants are good. Oh, their danishes are pretty good if you like those too."

You two stare at each other for a moment before he gets up and goes to the counter. You have to hold back a snort at how people blatantly let him cut in line. Perhaps you should try dragging him around places, quick service. He eventually orders an almond danish before walking back over to you.

"What's so funny?" He asks, sitting down across from you.

"Nothing. This whole situation is just funny to me." You grin, covering your mouth.

Jason huffs, "You're telling me you don't often invite vigilantes to bakeries?"

"Not typically, no." You smirk, watching as he fidgets with the packaging of the danish. "You… Going to eat it?"

You have a feeling he's glaring at you from under the mask, "Yes, I'm going to unmask myself in front of this entire bakery. Great idea."

"Oh come on— I know you wear a mask under the mask!"

He sits up straighter in his seat. Ha, it seems that you stumped him with that comment.

"Which— I feel obligated to add— I think is silly." You wipe your hands on the napkin on the table.

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Consider it charity, I like giving it away."

Jason laughs, causing you to laugh as well. Fidgeting with the now-empty wrapper, you cautiously speak again, "Y'know you should come by the cave more often."

Jason remains silent for a moment, "I'll pass."

You sigh, "Well, I can't force you." You lean back lazily in your seat, "Consider it a mercy."

"I feel so honored." Jason deadpans.

"They wouldn't mind." You shrug, watching as Jason tilts his head slightly at your comment.

"Mhm, I'm sure." He mutters.

Tapping a finger on the desk, you sigh. "Alright, well, the offer is always there. Don't worry, I'll defend you from the big, scary bat."

Jason clasps his hands together, "Oh, my savior."

Laughing, you notice something shift on your right. "Hey, I think your guy is waking up." Both of you face the criminal.

Jason stands up, grabbing the guy by the scruff of the neck, the ropes around him falling off loosely. You wince at the action. It looks very uncomfortable. "What'd he do anyway?"

"He was trying to recruit kids for his drug trade. Thought he would get far," he punches the man, knocking him out cold again, "he didn't."

"Oh," you scrunch your nose up in disgust, "yikes. Give him a good punch for me." You take the trash from the table.

Jason looks over to you, huffing before walking out.

"Thanks for the food!" You call out to his retreating form, watching as he grapples away, not bothering to respond.

—

Dick paces in his room at the Manor. He had spent the past hour rearranging everything so that it looked perfect.

"This is highly unnecessary." Damian leans on his doorframe.

"…Cleaning rooms?" Dick tilts a photo frame on a dresser slightly.

Damian sighs, unimpressed. "Are you expecting a guest?" He walks over to the dresser, eyeing the photo suspiciously.

Dick hesitates before answering, "No…" He tilts the photo down so Damian can't see it. Damian turns toward him, glaring.

"You aren't even living here anymore."

"It's still my room, I can rearrange whenever I want." Dick crosses his arms, looking down at Damian.

Damian raises an eyebrow, looking back towards the downturned frame. "Right," He narrows his eyes towards Dick.

Dick sighs, "You look like you want to say something."

"Correct."

"Care to share?"

"Not particularly."

Dick rubs his temples, "I know what you're thinking—"

"Do you?" Damian crosses his arms.

Dick hesitates slightly, "Yes…"

Damian scoffs, "So then you know that I find this courting act pathetic."

Dick raises his hand slightly, "Hey now, I thought you said that you didn't want to share—"

"I assumed you were above this." Damian snatches the photo frame the moment Dick lets his guard down. "Pining after ex-lovers."

"We never dated." Dick huffs. Did his entire family think he dated you? He attempts to snatch the photo back from Damian.

Damian looks up from the photo to Dick, "Truly?" He looks down at the photo, "It's worse than I feared then."

"Could you get out?" Dick finally retrieves the frame from Damian, who let him take the item back.

"Is that why you're renovating your room?" Damian looks towards the neatly made bed, giving it a look of disgust. "Is this some seduction scheme?"

"What? No!" Dick frantically shakes his head. "How did you conclude that?"

Damian stares at Dick for a moment before turning away, "Well, it's for her, right?"

"Not like that."

"Answer the question."

Dick pauses before putting the photo frame back up, "She doesn't have a room here." He rubs his thumb against the frame. "I thought that maybe she could use mine to stay the night— you know, if she ever needs it." He looks down at Damian.

"And there's no ulterior motives?" Damian raises a dubious eyebrow.

"No! Why are you still on about that?"

"What else is there to think? You're offering her your bed."

"Damian." Dick sighs, covering his eyes, rubbing his temples.

"You know I'm right, even the others have noticed."

Dick instantly removes his hands from his face, "What'd they say?"

Damian gives him an unimpressed blink. "She liked you. Now she doesn't." At Dick's wounded look, he sighs, "I'll rephrase. She no longer harbors romantic affections for you."

Dick groans, "Did she tell everybody but me?"

"No, I just figured it out."

"You just met her."

"And yet, I was still able to conclude where her affections lie."

Dick clenches his fists, walking over to the bed, "Do you think I messed up?"

"By not knowing? She cannot blame you for your ignorance."

"That… doesn't really make me feel better."

"I wouldn't assume it does. It's too late anyway, she's moved on."

Dick frowns, "With somebody?"

Damian pauses, "Not to my knowledge."

"So there could be somebody?"

Damian sighs, "The possibility is there."

Dick leans back onto his bed, ruining the perfect sheets. "Would she even tell me?"

Damian is silent for a moment, "Unlikely."

Dick lets out a wounded chuckle, "Why didn't any of you guys tell me? At least with her, I can maybe understand, but not a single one of you thought to contact me?"

Damian slowly walks over to the edge of the bed, looking down at Dick, lazily sprawled on the sheets. "I was under the impression that you two had previously… dated. I believe everybody else believed that, too. It wasn't any of our business."

Dick scoffs, "Like that's ever stopped you guys." Damian remains silent at his comment, so Dick continues. "Has she really met everybody while I was gone?"

Damian frowns thoughtfully, "To my knowledge, she hasn't met everybody. From my understanding, she hasn't met Todd."

Dick hums, "Should I confront her?"

"If I knew you'd be languishing in your room, I would have refrained from confronting you about this." Damian takes a few steps back, ready to exit.

"I never... liked her like that." Even to him, the comment sounded weak, as if he was struggling to believe his own words.

Damian pauses, looking down at Dick's pathetic form, "I believe this has dragged on long enough."

"Damian," Dick calls out as he hears Damian's footsteps soften as he moves farther.

"Damian," Dick props his head up, looking at his door wide open.

Dick stares at his open door, frowning. He looks at that photo left on the dresser. Why does it matter so much anyway? It's not like you like him anymore. He walks over to that photo.

It's a photo of when you were first in the cave with him. He was sitting on the medical bed, bandages covering his body, as you grin at the camera. He had argued at the time that too much had happened for him to look happy in any photo. To be fair, he wasn't wrong. He looks exhausted, but there's a fondness in his eyes as he glances out of the corner of his eye. You had taken it on his phone at the time and told him he could delete it after. He could never bring himself to delete it. While he was not thrilled at the prospect of having a photo of him injured lying around, you had seemed so excited, and he couldn't bring himself to dampen that joy.

Did you like him then? He runs his finger over your face.

Who is he kidding? You ran into a fire to pull him out. You had risked your life for him.

He looks into your eyes in the photo, the light glinting off the glass, his hands clenching around the frame.

—

"No way. That's how you found out his identity?" Steph cackles as she spins in the chair, her Spoiler suit on. She isn't wearing the mask, so you observe your reaction with a grin on your face.

"Yep." You smirk, "'Costume party,' he told me." You do air quotes.

She snorted, "He couldn't come up with anything better?"

You shrug, laughing, "Apparently not."

"That was foolish of him." Damian crosses his arms next to Steph.

"It's funny. I mean, come on— Imagine getting caught in the library of your high school." She grabs Damian's arm to stabilize herself as she cracks up again.

Damian glares down at her arm, not nearly as amused by the story as she is, but he doesn't push her arm away.

"Did I miss something?" Duke walks over to you three, suited up, causing you to jump back in your chair. Still, after all these months, every single person here manages to sneak up on you. You'd think you'd have improved your situational awareness by now.

"We were just recounting the story of how I met Dick." You shrug, tapping your finger on the armrest of your chair casually.

"Oh?" Duke raises an eyebrow.

You gape at him, "Did he tell none of you?"

Duke shrugs while Steph grins. Damian, however, is the one who speaks up, "Considering the mortification he must've felt, I imagine he'd be hesitant to narrate said anecdote."

You snort, "Fair enough. So, basically, he was changing in the textbook storage room at the library." At Duke's widened eyes, you hold your hand up to stop him from speaking, "Wait, it gets better. So I had been going in there for some textbook, and I opened the door to see none other than Dick Grayson changing into Robin's costume. So now I'm standing there like 'Uh, you good?' As he tries to convince me that it was for a costume party. Keep in mind, it was around one in the afternoon in the middle of the week."

Duke crosses his arms, his eyes lighting up in amusement, a smirk crosses his face, "I can see why he didn't tell us."

You snicker, "Right?! I mean, it was already bad, but he kept digging himself deeper and deeper. So now I have to smuggle him out, right? And—"

A loud motorcycle roars, echoing throughout the cave. You and Steph share a frown. You turn towards Duke, who looks puzzled at the newcomer. Meanwhile, Damian is already reaching for his katana.

"So we aren't expecting somebody."

"Everybody's already here," Damian responds tersely.

"Could be Dick? I know he was out earlier today. I don't know if he has returned yet." Duke shrugs.

"Doing what?" Steph stands up, grabbing her mask before covering her face. She attempts to subtly cover you, after all, you don't exactly have a secret identity. Still, you frown indignantly at the action.

"I dunno.'" Duke shrugs, narrowing his eyes as the biker parks off in the distance. Damian looks towards Duke at that comment, when suddenly the figure becomes so blaringly obvious. How could you forget?

"Jason Todd?" You frown, standing up.

Duke sighs in relief as Steph and Damian snap their attention to you.

Jason walks over to the four of you, taking off his helmet, addressing you by full name. Behind you, Steph is covering her mouth in surprise before slowly turning to Damian, nudging him. They both share a look.

"I didn't realize you'd take me up on the offer so soon." You raise an eyebrow, putting one hand on your hip.

"That's not why I'm here." He rolls his eyes.

"Well—"

"Wait," Steph cuts you off, causing both you and Jason to turn to her, "since when did you two meet?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Uhh, few weeks back? Actually, he bought me a croissant yesterday."

Damian turns towards Jason, "You what?"

"Y'know the French pastry?" Jason raises an eyebrow at Damian. "Typically flakey, probably has an unhealthy amount of butter in it—"

"I know what a croissant is, Todd."

Jason raises his hands in mock surrender, "Just making sure." He looks down at Damian, unimpressed.

"Let's go back a bit." Steph steps in between them, "Why did he buy you a croissant?"

"I was hungry, and he kinda destroyed the one I bought." You shrug, pointing your thumb at Jason.

"Technically, I didn't. It was that guy that you ran into."

"Well, you were the one chasing him."

"Perhaps you should watch where you're running next time."

"My bad, next time I'll check both ways before walking on the sidewalk. Never know when you're gonna get tackled by a drug dealer."

"Exactly."

Steph and Damian both watch in varying degrees of awe as you two go back and forth. Steph looks almost amused, yet wary of your back and forth. Damian, however, is quiet. Duke looks unsurprised, attempting to hide the growing amusement in his eyes.

"So… You've been hanging out for a while?" Steph asks hesitantly.

"She forced me to 'hang out' with her." Jason gestures his thumb to you. You glare at him indignantly.

"I wanted compensation for my croissant." You defend yourself, pushing his hand down. Jason moves away from you, glaring. "What're you even here for anyway?"

"You said I could come over? What happened to that whole 'I'm gonna defend you from the Bat.'" Jason crosses his arms.

You hold your hand up, "You had already said that's 'not why I'm here.' Oh, and who says I wouldn't defend you?!" You say, knowing full well that Bruce would wipe the floor with you.

"You're not doing a very good job of it."

"He isn't here? Are you fighting invisible bats?" You gesture wildly around the cave at nothing.

"There are actually bats in here." Jason points up at the ceiling, the five of you looking up to the bats resting on the ceiling, barely visible, but there.

"Are you fighting rabies?" You place your hands on your hips.

Jason scoffs, letting the argument die down. "I dropped something a couple weeks back. Figured I'd grab it."

"You know, not answering the rabies question doesn't make me feel better."

"Wasn't supposed to." Jason rolls his eyes.

You hum, "Anyway, you said you dropped something a couple weeks back?" Jason nods silently, and you smirk roguishly. "That's crazy, cause a few weeks ago somebody actually dropped something after I told them it was a risk."

"Crazy. Who would ever do such a thing?" Jason deadpans, avoiding your eyes.

You grin even wider, gesturing for Jason to follow. "You're lucky I was nice enough to keep it. Figured it looked important. You know—"

Damian, Steph, and Duke stare in varying degrees of alarm as you take Jason away to find whatever he was looking for.

"So… They've met." Steph eventually breaks the silence. Damian grunts quietly in response. She turns to Duke, "And you've been awfully quiet."

Duke, avoiding eye contact, stares unyieldingly at your retreating figure.

"You knew, didn't you?" She crosses her arms, nudging him with her elbow.

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I just stumbled on them in one of the old storage rooms together." He scratches his neck.

Steph stares blankly at him, mouth agape. Damian stares up at him, lips pursed. "And you told nobody?!" She whisper-yells, shaking Duke's shoulders.

"I'm sorry, my first thought wasn't 'Let me tell everybody in a 10-mile radius what I just stumbled onto!'"

"It should've been!" Steph frowns. "I am not gonna be the one to tell him."

"Nor will I," Damian speaks up.

They both turn towards Duke, "Woah, I sure as hell aren't saying anything."

Steph holds a finger up, "Nuh-uh! You kept this a secret! You gotta tell him."

"How is that fair?! I didn't even know I was supposed to tell anybody!" Duke grabs Steph's shoulders.

"'Tis the burden we have in situations like this." Steph sighs dramatically, patting his hand reassuringly.

"I am not gonna tell him. Since you were so upset at not knowing, you can go and spread the news." Duke shakes his head frantically.

"I already said I'm not gonna do it!" She furrows her eyebrows, turning to Damian for help, who shakes his head in response.

"Well then," Duke crosses his arms, "it appears we've reached a stalemate." Duke sighs, staring resolutely at her.

The three of them turn to you and Jason's distant figures.

It'll be fine

–

Jason didn't linger in the cave after you retrieved the item he was looking for. You didn't expect him to. Truthfully, you're surprised he even showed up, having nearly forgotten the incident a few weeks back. When he left, you tried to ignore the looks that Steph and Damian gave you.

It was strange, you hadn't talked with Damian much in the past, but suddenly the boy was very interested in your love life. You weren't naive enough to assume it was just genuine curiosity.

"And have you considered dating anybody as of late?" He sits on a chair in front of the Batcomputer, hands clasped on his lap.

"Uh…" You frown, "No..?"

Damian hums, tapping his fingers on his lap methodically. "Anybody?" He emphasizes.

You lean against the desk, "You sound like you want me to say a specific answer."

Damian's stare pierces your soul, almost as if he's trying to assess you. "So you do have an answer in mind."

"I don't actually." You shake your head, frowning.

Damian raises an eyebrow at you skeptically, "Think about it."

"I don't think I'm enjoying this conversation." You cross your arms, sighing.

"The quicker you disclose your true intentions, the quicker this will end."

You stare blankly at Damian, "Damian, I have no idea what answer you want."

"Playing yourself the fool is beneath you."

"Then I am a fool," you shrug carelessly, ready to walk away. "Just ask bluntly."

Damian remains silent for a moment, "Are you and Todd courting?"

You stare at Damian, who doesn't break his inscrutable expression. You can't stop the laughter that erupts at your next question, "Why– Why would you ask that?"

"You requested that I ask bluntly. I am merely following your instructions. I had presumed that the name-calling was a flirtatious advancement, not to mention the childish bickering."

"Okay, first off–" you hold your finger up, walking over to Damian, thank goodness everybody left already, "I call him by his name."

"You don't call anybody else by their full name." Damian frowns, eyebrows furrowed.

"He started it!"

Damian blinks at you, unimpressed. "You are not helping your case."

"Why are you acting like this is my fault? Why don't you confront him?"

Damian makes a point to look around the now-empty cave exaggeratedly, "He is not here." He deadpans.

"Oh, so I'm just the convenient option. I feel so loved." You place your hand on your chest mockingly.

"You have yet to answer the question."

"I am not dating Jason. I don't know how one interaction between us convinced you of that, but it's not true." You look away from Damian.

He narrows his eyes, "There was mention of your previous outings with him. He apparently 'bought you a croissant.' A euphemism for more unseemly activities, I imagine."

You attempt to mask your horror at his words, but fail miserably. "If I knew it'd cause me this much trouble, I would've just skipped the damn croissant." You mutter, rubbing your temples.

"So you admit he 'bought you a croissant.'" He sits up straighter in his chair.

"He bought me like an actual croissant, yes! He even clarified that we were talking about the pastry. I never denied that!" You gesture wildly.

"Tt," Damian glares at you, his gaze scrutinizing your entire being. "What was the context for that outing?"

"I…" You begin before pausing, "Wait, why would I tell that to you?"

Damian raises an eyebrow, "Got something to hide?"

You glare at him indignantly, "I know what you're doing." You shake your head at him disapprovingly.

"Really? You are dancing around the question." He taps his fingers slowly, shaking his head at you, disapprovingly.

You groan, "It was an accident, I had accidentally ran into the criminal he was after. Both of us went down, and my croissant was smushed. I, jokingly," you emphasized, making sure Damian understood, "I jokingly told him— Jason, not the criminal— that he should replace my croissant."

"So you asked him out." Damian holds his clasped hands up to his face, concentrated.

You whip around to face him, "I just said it was a joke. I didn't think he'd actually stop what he was doing to sit with me in a bakery!"

Damian looks slightly taken aback, "You sat in a bakery with him?"

You rub your eyes with your hands, "Wait, okay, yes, but it was perfectly fine. It wasn't like that. We just bought a couple of pastries before he had to go."

Damian looks repulsed by your words, standing up. "I have things to attend to."

"Damian, believe me. We aren't dating or courting or whatever you wanna call it!" You attempt to stop him.

Damian remains silent as you look down at him, pleading. He nods once before exiting, not a word extra.

Well, that is not very reassuring.

–

The night had been going smoothly– well, as smoothly as a night in Gotham could go.

Dick, true to his word, decided to stay in Gotham. The night was still young, so perhaps he was judging prematurely, but it was nothing too crazy. There was some drug deal on a roof earlier, and that was about the most intense thing that happened all night. It's been quiet.

Dick decided that he was going to try and stick around Central Gotham that night, for he knew you had gone home earlier. Dick was going to ask if you wanted to hang out alone, and not with half of his family tagging along. When he began searching for you, he eventually ran into Damian, who gave him a conflicted expression. Before Dick got a chance to ask what that meant, Damian shrugged, telling him he had no idea where you were.

Eventually, he found out that you had left the manor earlier that day. Which was fine. It's not like he could control where you went, but he'd been hoping to catch you alone.

So maybe he'd been patrolling around your apartment, and maybe he'd circled around the block a few times, hoping to catch you alone. He wasn't sure when you left, but he hadn't seen your car around, so he figured you were still out.

That night, Babs decided to help out on comms, "Nightwing, there's an armed robbery two blocks over from your current location."

Dick frowns, leaving for five minutes couldn't hurt.

–

You sigh as you exit your car, grabbing your personal items before getting ready for the quick walk to your apartment. There was no parking, so you had parked a couple of streets over. The walk wasn't anything you hadn't done before, so you weren't too worried.

Damian's unexpected interrogation had you stressing for the rest of the day. What if he went around telling people that something was going on between you and Jason? Not like there was, but you know Damian is stubborn. If he believes that you are dating Jason, then it'll take more than a quick conversation to convince him.

Just as you were about to turn onto your street, you hear the sound of a gun's safety being clicked off. Slowly, you turn around to face the criminal. It was a man with long, greasy hair. He had a worn leather jacket on, the gun held lazily in his hand. "Everything on you, now."

Your mouth parts in surprise, well, shit. While Cass and Steph were teaching you how to fight, that did not mean you were confident enough to take out somebody with a gun pointed at your head.

"Okay," you answer slowly, grabbing your phone out of your pocket. He watches as you move slowly to fish the device out of his pocket.

"Hurry up. I don't have all day." He glares at you.

"I'm sorry that robbing me is inconvenient for you." You mutter to yourself, thinking that he won't hear.

"What was that?" He points the gun under your chin, and you feel your heart race at the action.

"I'll hurry up! I'll hurry up!" You hold your hands up in surrender, offering your phone in one of them, watching as he moves closer to take your phone.

Just as he's about to grab your phone, a figure descends from the sky, kneeing the robber in the head, sending him sprawling to the ground. The sheer force of the action causes you to flinch back in surprise. Instinctively, you move away from the attacker before you see who it is.

"Oh," you exhale in relief, "you know we keep meeting." You adjust your clothes, brushing off imaginary dust as if you were unbothered by the attack.

"Were you about to give this asshole your phone?" Red Hood gives a "light" kick to the now unconscious criminal.

"Not all of us are trained as well as you are. He had me at gunpoint." You scoff.

Red Hood turns towards you, "Thought you said that you've 'been training.'" He does air quotes. "If I remember correctly, I remember you challenging me." He crosses his arms, tilting his head slightly.

You purse your lips, "I was bullshitting and you knew that."

He chuckles, moving over to you. "Are you hurt?" The amusement from his voice is gone, replaced by something that almost sounds like concern.

You smile at him, "Physically no, but my pride is a little wounded."

"Mm, next time I'll let you get a hit in." He responds dryly.

You grin even wider, "Aw, so thoughtful." You start to walk past him.

"Where're you heading anyway?" He asks, following behind you.

"Home."

"Alone? This late?" He walks up to your right.

"It's nearby, I'll be okay."

"You were almost robbed."

"Keyword: 'almost.'"

Red Hood attempts to rub his temples, but the helmet he has on prevents that. The action is a little funny. "I ain't letting you walk home alone this late."

You blink in surprise, watching as he matches your stride, "Do you not have any important stuff to do? Fight crime? Tackle drug dealers? Crush croissants?"

Red Hood shrugs, the action stiff, "Some of the others can handle it. I think they'll be alright." You smile at him, noting your apartment as it comes into view.

The rest of the walk is pretty short and quiet. You're about to head into your apartment when you notice the right shoulder of his jacket is stained red. "Are you injured?"

"Not from that guy." Red Hood scoffs, crossing his arms, attempting to cover the wound.

"That's not what I asked." You frowned, looking at the maroon stain on his jacket. "Nope, you're coming with me."

Jason says your name softly, the first time he's ever just said just your name. His voice is quiet, and it startles you for a moment, "I'll be fine."

You both stare at each other for a moment, "You know you don't look very tough when your shoulder is bleeding out in front of me, right? Kinda ruins your whole persona."

Jason's posture straightens, and you think he's going to insist, so you cut him off before he gets the chance. "Nope," you grab his (good) arm, pulling him to your apartment. "I may not be as good as Dr. Thompkins or Alfred, but I refuse to let you go out without some sort of first aid."

Jason doesn't say anything as you drag him into your apartment. Turning on the lights, you look towards him, standing at the entrance awkwardly. "I'll go grab the first aid kit. You can head to the couch."

You put all your stuff down, head to the bathroom, wash your hands, and grab the first aid kit and a clean cloth.

When you walk out of the bathroom, Jason is sitting in the living room, helmet off, blatantly staring at the picture frames you have up. "I'm no doctor, but have you at least tried to stop the bleeding?" You dampen the cloth at the sink before walking over to him.

"Bleeding should be stopped by now." Jason responds. He sounds exhausted, and his hand is pressed on his blood-stained jacket where the wound should be.

You nod, "Okay, I'll try and clean the wound, but you're gonna have to take off that jacket." You sit next to him as he slowly removes the jacket. The wound is open, but it's not actively dripping blood. "Sorry if this hurts," you slowly take the cloth and attempt to clean any dirt around it. Jason doesn't react, only wincing on occasion, to which you offer an apology. You work in silence.

Eventually, once it's clean, you look at the first aid kit, searching for the suture. Typically, it isn't something you'd find in a first aid kit, but Alfred and Bruce had insisted you take one of the ones they keep in the cave "just in case."

"Gonna be honest… I have no idea how to do stitches." You grab the thread, frowning.

Jason chuckles quietly, wincing slightly, "I can do it. You've already helped out enough." You frown, but move the first aid kit next to him. "Do you want pain meds or something? I should have some Tylenol lying around."

Jason nods, "That'd be nice."

You stand up, walking over to your medicine cabinet, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol, some water, and bringing it to him. Jason nods in thanks, and you wait anxiously next to him. It doesn't exactly feel great just sitting around while he's stitching his own wound.

"So you've talked with him?" Jason starts the conversation.

You blink, "Sorry?"

"Your 'not-bestie.'" Jason carefully cuts part of the thread.

"Oh," you blink, "a little? He came back yesterday."

Jason snorts, "I'm aware, he's out on patrol tonight around the area."

"Huh," you nod, "he did say he'd be in the area for a bit."

Jason hums, "How'd he react to you being here? You didn't tell him, right?"

You smack your lips, "Yeah,"

He chuckles, looking up from his wound to you, "That bad?"

"Maybe a bit passive-aggressive." You shrug, thinking back to Dick's unreadable expression when he saw you training with Steph and Cass.

Jason nods, "I can imagine." He grabs the pill from the table, using the water to down it. "You know he's been circling around your block for most of the night."

Your mouth parts in surprise, "Really? He knows if he wants to talk to me, he can just call or show up… right?"

Jason shrugs, wincing slightly as the action agitates the wound, "Who knows what he's thinking, I–"

You both turn to the glass door for the balcony, three loud knocks echoing across the room. You couldn't hide your startled expression if you wanted to. Jason snorts, "Speak of the Devil,"

You turn towards Jason, who is focused on his wound. Thinking he's got it handled, you turn your focus back to Dick, and he offers a small wave. Walking over, you unlock the door. "Uh… Hello?"

"Hi! I happened to be in the area–" you hear Jason snort in the background, "–and I thought I could drop by." He smiles at you before looking towards Jason behind you on your couch. His smile strains a bit, "I didn't realize you'd have company over."

"I didn't realize I'd be having company. " You chuckle, walking over to the couch next to Jason. Dick follows next to you.

Dick raises an eyebrow at Jason stitching his wound, "What happened?"

"I got injured." Jason deadpans, pointing a finger to the wound.

"I can see that." Dick frowns, watching as Jason finishes up the last stitch. You grab some Vaseline before placing it next to Jason.

You and Dick watch for a moment as Jason dresses the wound before he turns to you. "Did you two just meet?" Dick asks, turning to you.

You shake your head, feeling your stomach oddly turn in familiarity. For some reason, the conversation feels oddly reminiscent of your conversation with Damian earlier. "Few weeks ago."

"Oh." Dick nods slowly, looking at you. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he turns away. "I… wasn't aware."

You snort, "I didn't know I needed to tell you everybody I met."

Dick opens his mouth, "I– You know I didn't mean it like that. I was just surprised." He fidgets behind you, making himself look smaller.

You frown, "I've been around for months? It'd be surprising if I hadn't met everybody yet."

Dick nods, agreeing, "Right, I just thought I heard that… you two hadn't met…. " he pauses, "yet." His last word was almost silent.

You snort, "Who said that?" You turn to Dick, before snapping your fingers, "Wait, let me guess, Damian?"

Dick looks over to you, eyebrows furrowed, "...Yeah, actually."

You sigh, "Of course he would."

Your words seem to catch Dick's attention, "Did… something happen?" He asks hesitantly, occasionally throwing Jason odd glances. Jason seems wholly unbothered by the whole situation, a bit too unbothered.

"With Damian?" You clarify. At Dick's nod, you turn away, "Ask him. He's the one who decided to interview me about my life." You take the scissors and bandage scraps scattered around the first aid kit and put them away before throwing the scraps in the trash.

Dick is silent for a moment, "What?" You can't decipher what his tone was. Horrified? Outraged? His tone shocks you for a moment, "When was that?" He furrows his eyebrows, crossing his arms as he follows you around your apartment as you put the first aid kit away.

"Today." You shrug, closing the cabinet before walking past Dick back out to the living room.

Dick scoffs, "No wonder." He mutters to himself before turning to follow you.

He follows you over to Jason, watching as you offer to refill his water. Jason thanks you with a smirk once you return. Dick's breath hitches, his fists clenching as he watches you sit next to Jason.

"So, how was that danish you got the other day?"

What.

The question was innocent, but it caused a million different questions to run through his mind. You're asking him about a danish? You two have hung out previously. Do you both hang out frequently? Clearly, you trust him enough to be in your apartment, and you aren't afraid to joke with him. Your question is casual enough to suggest you don't think it's a big deal.

Jason pretends to think, "It was alright."

You hunch over in dejection, "Oh, come on, seriously?"

Jason shrugged, a smirk growing on his face as he sat up straighter, "You overhyped it a bit."

You furrow your eyebrows, "Okay, fine," you huffed, "but it was still good enough, right?" You lean closer to him expectantly. At your action, Dick distantly notes that his jaw hurts from clenching his teeth.

Jason snorts, and he doesn't move away. "It was 'good enough.'" His tone is teasing, and your frown immediately turns into a triumphant smile.

Dick clenches his fist, walking over to you both, "Hey, Little Wing, I think Oracle needs our help."

Frowning, you stand up, "Oh, you two should get going then. I wouldn't wanna keep you from going out."

Jason raises an eyebrow at Dick, who grins at him. His expression is uneasy, stiff as Dick walks over to your side.

"It's a shame you can't stay any longer, but you two are always welcome." You smile, grabbing Jason's bloodied jacket. "I can wash this and return it–"

"Thanks," Dick offers you a soft smile, "but we wouldn't wanna keep the crime waiting." He winks at you, and you snort. His eyes drift down to Jason's jacket, clasped between your hands. Jason walks over to your other side, taking the offered jacket.

"Thanks," he nods at you, as he walks over to the balcony Dick entered from. He puts the helmet on before turning to Dick, "Well?"

Dick turns to you once again, "See you around." He walks away from you and over to the balcony. He doesn't break eye contact as he walks over to the ledge. You follow behind them, keeping a bit of distance, watching as Dick hops gracefully onto the ledge of the balcony. The action is so extra, so him, that you can't help the laughter that emerges from your chest. At your laughter, he brightens up.

"You're so extra." You roll your eyes.

"It's part of the charm." He smirks, almost bowing slightly, before flipping off the balcony and onto the building next to your apartment.

You lean against the ledge, watching as Jason and Dick grow smaller the farther they get. Just as you think they'll vanish, Dick turns around and waves. You snort, mirroring the action before he vanishes into the night.

–

Dick rolls onto a roof to cushion his jump, and he props his foot up on a ledge of it, getting a wide view of the street below. Jason follows closely behind him. "What was that?" Jason asks, walking up to Dick's side, looking down at the street.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Dick smiles, still keeping his eyes on the street below, his leg bouncing up and down.

"Nightwing." Jason attempts to catch Dick's attention, moving slightly to try to cover his view of the street.

"We couldn't stay there all night." Dick turns to the opposite direction of Jason, balancing on the ledge casually.

Jason rolls his eyes, knowing that Dick can't see the action, "Obviously, but–"

"Great, glad we agree." Dick smiles before hopping down the building's exterior stairs, maneuvering through them with ease.

"Dick." Jason chases him, with far less grace, but just as efficiently. Below them, there are two groups pitted against each other. Dick doesn't hesitate before diving in. Rushing in, he grabs the shoulders of one of the members, using them to propel himself upward, before dragging him up with him and slamming him onto his buddy.

Jason quickly joins in, shooting the gun out of one of the men's hands before punching him to the ground. The two guys next to him attempt to make a run for it, but Jason trips one of them. Kicking him in the jaw, Jason knocks him out before turning to the last guy.

Just as he's about to attack, Dick jumps down from above, immobilizing the man.

"So we're just gonna pretend that nothing happened." Jason twirls his gun before holstering them.

"Nothing did happen." Dick flourishes his escrima sticks before placing them behind his back.

"Convincing." Jason snorts. Dick climbs back up the roof they were on earlier, expertly scaling the fire escape stairs. "So you have nothing to say?"

"What is there to say? You were injured, she patched you up." Dick sits down on the ledge, propping a knee up, letting one leg hang over the ledge.

Jason props his knee up next to Dick, looking down at him. "And you're cool with that?" He rolls his shoulder.

Dick doesn't look up at him, "Yes."

Jason places his hands on his hips, "Sure doesn't feel like it."

Dick scoffs, "What do you want me to say?" He faces Jason, tense. "That I'm upset that you two were hanging out?" He places an arm lazily on top of his propped-up leg.

Jason tilts his head slightly, crossing his arms.

"Well, I'm not."

Jason grunts, turning away from Dick. Dick elbows Jason's leg, causing him to tilt his head at the action. "What was that for?"

"You don't believe me."

Jason snorts, "Okay, you are not upset." He states, holding his hands up in surrender.

Dick groans, "Now you're mocking me."

"It's too easy not to." Jason smirks, sitting down next to Dick. The two of them look down at the city in silence. "Y'know she told me you two aren't besties."

Dick looks over at Jason, affronted. "She did not."

Jason nods solemnly, "Yep. Think her words were: 'We've never referred to each other as besties.'"

Dick purses his lips, his nails digging into his palms. "No, I guess we didn't."

Jason takes off his helmet, relying on the domino underneath, resting the equipment next to him. "Do you love her?" He asks, the two of them watching the blinding lights of the city below.

Dick opens his mouth, but then closes it. He absentmindedly taps his finger on his knee, not taking his eyes off the city below. "I… think so."

Jason snorts, "You don't know?"

Dick scoffs, "I…" he lets his propped-up leg hang over the edge, placing his hands flat on the ledge, "It's complicated."

Jason hums, "Well, you'd better figure it out fast."

Dick slowly turns to Jason, "What does that mean?" He asks calmly.

"She's not just going to wait for you to come to a decision. If you don't take the opportunity…" Jason trails off, ignoring Dick's pointed stare.

"Are you saying you will?" Dick stiffens as he watches Jason absentmindedly tap his helmet with his index finger.

"I'm saying somebody might if you don't do anything."

Dick stands up, looking down at Jason, who languidly turns to face him, a smirk on his face. "Are you saying that somebody is you?"

Jason shrugs, wincing slightly at the sting of pain in his shoulder, "Not necessarily. Just in general."

"She wouldn't." Dick jumps away from the ledge, back onto the rooftop, facing away from Jason.

Jason turns around to face him, "How could you even know? She didn't even tell you she was back."

Dick turns around, his chest feels like it was pierced by a blade at Jason's words, "Oh, did she tell you that too?"

Jason shrugs, "She told me a lot of things."

"I'm sure she did." Dick glares down at Jason, his disinterest only fueling his frustration.

"Why are you upset? You aren't even sure if you like her." Jason leans over, his elbows resting on his knees, looking up at Dick.

Dick clenches his teeth, trying to find the words to say, but Jason cuts him off before he gets to say anything.

"She's moved on, Dick. You lost your opportunity."

Dick huffs, pointing a finger at Jason's chest, "You do not get to comment about us. You don't know what our relationship was like. If she 'moved on' I want to hear it from her, not from a telephoned message from you."

Jason tilts his head, "But I'm not the first one to say it, am I?" Dick narrows his eyes at Jason, his breath hitching as his words. "Fine, prove me wrong then." Jason stands up, and Dick matches his stare, looking up at his brother.

"I will." Dick resolves.

–

"Come on, it's like a rite of passage, you gotta do it." Tim shakes his head at you, seated in front of the Batcomputer.

"It's a charity gala. Why on Earth do I need to go? It's not like Bruce has adopted me or something. I'm just a random person in the eyes of the public." You wave your hand dismissively.

"Okay, but like you're involved with us often enough, so you gotta do it. Bat rules." Tim shrugs, as if saying "What can you do about it?"

"That's not a thing." You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Tim.

"It is." Tim nods, reassuringly.

"No, it's not. You aren't gonna convince me." You spin around in your chair, away from him. To your surprise, you see two people walk over.

"It…" you checked the time on your phone, "hasn't even been 24 hours. You two coming in pairs now? No longer sold separately?" You laugh at your own joke, sitting up straighter in the seat as you watch Dick and Jason approach.

"Didn't realize there was a cooldown for when we could approach you." Dick grins at you, walking over to rest his arm on the headrest, looking down at you.

You roll your eyes, but a smile grows on your face, "Well, now you know."

Dick chuckles, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before turning to Tim, "What were you two talking about anyway?"

"Oh my–" You look at Dick, ready to justify yourself, but somebody cuts you off.

"–It's her turn to go to a gala." Tim gestures to you. "She's been here too long without going to one." Tim cuts in helpfully. You, Dick, and Jason turn towards him.

"...He's kind of right," Jason adds.

You turn to him, betrayed, "After everything last night? You will betray me like this?" Tim's eyes widen at your comment towards Jason.

Jason rolls his eyes, "All I did was agree." Tim stares blatantly at Dick, who obstinately refuses to look at him.

"Betrayal." You hiss at Jason. "Come on, Dick, you're on my side, right?" You look at Dick hopefully.

He blinks down at you, still leaning on the headrest of your chair. "Uh…" He looks up to meet Tim and Jason's expectant stare before returning his gaze to you.

Wait…

"How about you go with me? That way you aren't alone the whole time." Dick proposes, offering a small smile to you.

Your eyes widen at Dick, and you open your mouth, sputtering. He was supposed to be on your side, not encouraging you to go. Jason crosses his arms in the back, and Tim purses his lips thoughtfully.

"But I'm not equipped for that kind of scene. I don't even know how to handle myself at such an event." You look up at Dick.

"Then I'll teach you." Dick shrugs, "Just come with me, it'll be like old times."

"What kind of old times are you talking about? I don't remember you ever making me attend one of the Wayne events." You furrow your eyebrows, covering your mouth with your hand in concentration, trying to remember an occurrence.

Dick snorts, "I don't think I ever did. I meant that it'd be us. Just us." He grins, resting his arms over the chair's headrest, before propping his head on top of it.

Tim and Jason share a quick glance, "Are you sure?" You ask cautiously. "I think I remember you complaining about them as a kid."

Dick tilts his head, still resting it on the headrest, "Well, now we'll be able to bond over mutual hatred. It'll be great!"

You sigh, turning your attention to Tim, "See what you've done?"

Tim smiles, "No regrets."

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Dick, "Alright, I guess I'll meet you at the Manor tomorrow."

Dick shakes his head, "I can pick you up. Think you can be ready by 6:30?"

"In the morning?!" You hold a hand against your chest before raising it to your lips in a thoughtful manner. "I dunno, that's a bit early."

Dick exhales, amused, before flicking your head lightly. "Mm, yeah sure, better make sure your alarm is set."

Rolling your eyes, you rub the spot he flicked, "Of course, of course."

—

The next day comes quicker than you thought it would, so now you're staring at your closet. While you've never been to a charity event, you know that they're definitely formal.

After eliminating all the dresses deemed "too casual" or "not good enough for a Wayne event," you are left with one option.

You are left with a dark blue dress that fits your figure nicely. You'd used this dress in the past for some previous work events, but you figured it'd work well for a charity event. You select a pair of heels that suits the dress nicely before doing your makeup for the night. You didn't want to do too much, so you settled for something cute, yet classy.

Once you finish up, you anxiously await Dick's message. The longer he takes, the more anxious you feel. Will they be able to tell that you don't fit in? What if you fuck up and do something stupid?

Thankfully, Dick doesn't take long, knocking on your door on time. "Coming!" You head over to the door and open it.

"Hey," you shuffle the clutch in your hand to your non-dominant one.

Dick blinks, his eyes darting down your figure, "Hey,"

You smile at him, walking out of your apartment, before closing the door. All of this happens while Dick just stares at you.

"Is… something wrong..?" You shift uncomfortably, smoothing the dress down your body.

"You're beautiful," Dick responds softly. You wonder if you even heard the words correctly.

You raise an eyebrow, "Was I not supposed to be?"

Frantically, Dick shakes his head, "No! I just meant that you look gorgeous. You didn't have to do all of this for one of Bruce's charity events."

You frown, "Well, what if I wanted an excuse to dress up?"

Dick straightens up, mouth pursing, "Then I'd ask Bruce to host as many events as he wanted just so you could." He gives you a small smile.

You both stare at each other before you burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Jason was wrong."

Dick tenses up, "What was he wrong about?"

"You are funny." You pat his chest reassuringly. The action causes Dick to look down at your hand.

"Did he tell you I wasn't?" Dick frowns, grabbing your hand and slowly removing it from his chest.

"Hey, I'll have you know I tried defending you." You smirk at him, your hand still in his grasp.

"Oh," he smirks, "what an honor."

You chuckle, "Quite the honor indeed." You look up from your clasped hand to his face.

To your surprise, Dick is already looking down at your eyes, "I… got something for you." He reveals his other hand, presenting you with a dark blue cornflower corsage.

You slowly blink at the bundle of flowers as he smiles gently. He looks down at your hand, silently asking permission. "I… I didn't get you anything." You feel a pit form in your stomach. He offers to help you around the gala, and you didn't even think to get anything? Great, now you feel horrible.

His smile grows, "Hey— No, it's alright. I got something for myself so we could match. The container is in the car. I wanted to do it."

Oh geez, he knew you wouldn't even think to get him something, so he bought himself a boutonnière.

"Hey, none of that." He slides the corsage onto your wrist with care. His hands are soft as they brush against your arm, his touch is light. "Lighten up, I thought it'd make you happy. I can see the guilt on your face."

Scoffing, you look down at your wrist. The flowers are a lighter shade of blue than your dress. "How did you know I'd be wearing blue?"

He grins, "I didn't."

The two of you walk to the car, and you take note of the boutonnière in the passenger seat. You grab it, and just as he is about to start the car, you open it. "You're gonna have to face me for this." You open the container, carefully handling the flower.

"Oh," he inhales, holding his breath unknowingly, "you don't have to…"

You look up to him, "You didn't have to buy us matching flowers, but you did anyway. At least let me pin it onto you."

He looks like he's about to argue, but he sighs, "Alright," he sighs.

Grinning, you carefully grab the flower before gesturing for him to move closer. Stiffly, Dick leans over the center console of the car. You gently grab the lapel of his suit jacket, pinning the flower to him. He remains still the entire time. When you finish, you smooth out any wrinkles, patting the fabric to signal you're done.

Dick lets out a deep breath when you're done, adjusting his collar. "Thanks," he speaks softly before turning towards you, smiling, "you ready?" His voice is a lot brighter.

"As I'll ever be." You grin, prepared for the night.

—

"Thank you for coming!" Bruce puts his arm around you, squeezing you tightly as you exhale what little air is left in your lungs.

"I think you're constricting her…" Dick frowns, crossing his arms as Bruce pats your shoulder.

"Ah, my bad!" Bruce makes a show of acting surprised before using his hand to guide you back to Dick. "She's all yours." Bruce winks before taking a glass of champagne and downing it.

The two of you watch as he walks away, loudly laughing at a joke some guest says.

"That is so weird…" You watch as Bruce walks away. Dick snorts at your side.

"You'll get used to it. Come on, let me show you around."

"Dick, I've been here before."

"But it's been so long since it's been just us. Humor me." He grabs your hand, walking backwards as he pulls you slowly to try and get you to follow him.

You sigh, "You act like you've been deprived or something." You chuckle at the thought.

Dick clutched his hand to his chest, "Have I not? I haven't seen you in ages, let me have this."

You laugh, and his eyes light up at the action, a grin breaking out onto his face. "Alright, I suppose."

Dick grins, grabbing your arm before dragging you away. You can't help the laughter that escapes you. He grins as the two of you run up a set of stairs, passing by a few guests. You had to admit, catching up with Dick was really fun. Being with him made you forget the worries you had before the event.

"You didn't actually swing on the chandeliers, right?" You lean against the railing of the balcony.

Dick smiles in response.

"Of course you did," you sigh. "I don't even know why I asked."

"You make it sound like a bad thing." Dick grins, moving to your left, leaning on the railing next to you.

Smirking, you tilt your head toward him, "It's certainly a you thing."

"The best kind of things." Dick adjusts his suit, brushing off imaginary dust, matching your smirk.

You snort, "Definitely unique. I wouldn't expect it from anybody else."

Dick holds his hands out grandly, "You could say I'm one of a kind."

Rolling your eyes, you're about to make a retort, but you hear the string quartet in the background swell. You turn your attention to the music, watching as the musicians cue each other in for the next piece.

Dick looks at you, then toward the quartet, then back to you. "Come on," he pushes himself off the railing. You raise an eyebrow at him. He grins, "Let's dance,"

You look over to the couples slow dancing on the tiled marble before turning to face Dick, disbelieving. "Seriously?" You cross your arms, suspiciously, "You want to dance?"

Dick smirks, "Well," he looks back towards the crowd of people slowly moving to the piece the quartet plays. "It's your choice, sweetheart. However, I'd appreciate it if you'd do me the honor?" He holds his hand out for you to grab.

You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth at his words. "Well, I suppose, sweetheart." You smirk, emphasizing the pet name.

Dick somehow brightens even more at your words before pulling you to the dance floor. The music crescendos as the two of you step in coordination along the dance floor. Dick expertly maneuvers you around the crowded dance floor, his eyes on you the entire time. You can't help but smile at him. He mirrors your action softly as the two of you move in sync.

Eventually, the music quiets down to a soft piano, "I wasn't aware you'd be this good. You're making me feel like an amateur."

You smile at him, your hand brushing his chest, "I didn't spend the last couple of months sitting around waiting for you to come back. Steph and Cass have been very thorough in teaching me."

Dick lets out a chuckle, his smile falling slightly, "No… I suppose you didn't." His words were quieter than the soft chords of the strings, but you heard him clearer than ever. They carried a certain weight.

Your mouth parts, feeling compelled to speak, but you aren't sure what to say. Dick smiles at you, reassuringly. "I… I didn't mean not to tell you. It's just…" you look toward his hopeful eyes, "complicated."

He seems to deflate at your words. Perhaps he expected something else. "I know." He responds, matching your whisper. "I know what you meant by it…"

You shake your head, "No… I don't think you do."

Dick purses his lips, as if holding back something. "Right… I don't,"

The two of you move, unspeaking, the music's slower tempo leading your steps. It slowly starts to fade out, and Dick's eyes flicker down to your lips. You stare at his eyes, almost glassy in their state, as the music dissipates, the sound of whispered chattering growing. You inhale, momentarily forgetting to breathe, his hand resting on your chest. Your throat feels dry, your heart unwillingly picks up in pace, your breath shudders as you exhale, and your eyes helplessly flicker over Dick.

Dick leans closer as if sensing your growing apprehension, his hands rub your back gently. His touch is a feather upon your skin, only causing you to hold back a shiver. Frozen in your spot, you barely even notice if you're moving at this point. He leans closer, and now you can see the rise and fall of his chest, the soft sound of his exhale. Meeting your eyes, he blinks at you, swallowing as he gazes at your features.

The music stops, and so do you.

"Thanks, Dick." You pull away from him. His hold takes a bit of effort to squirm out of. By the time you're out of his grasp, all that's left is your hand resting on his.

He stares at you, unblinking, eyes heavy with something. "Of course," he whispers. He slowly retracts his hand, and you lower your own.

You take a deep breath, the tension is thick, it hangs in the air, clinging onto every spoken word. The two of you stare at each other for a brief moment. You barely even notice the bodies meandering around the two of you. All you can focus on is his weighted, almost pleading gaze. What does he need to plead for?

Exhaling, you grab his forearm, "Come on, let's go back out to the balcony. I'm suffocating here. It's so crowded. How does Bruce even know this many people?" You ramble as you drag Dick along. He doesn't give input, he doesn't say anything, but gives you that same thoughtful expression.

You aren't even sure who you're trying to distract. Smiling, you glance at Dick, attempting to shove down the memory of his touch, his gaze, everything about him. You couldn't be angry about it. You know Dick. Even after years apart, you know him. You can't get mad that things have fallen back into the way they used to be. After all, that's why you never said anything, right? To keep things as they were.

You sure as hell aren't letting all that restraint go to waste now. Not when you finally moved on.

"I gotta respect the fact that you attended these 'cause I probably would've started swinging on chandeliers too if I had to deal with that many people with no one to depend upon. Well, I guess there's Bruce, but I don't feel like that's much better." You drag him out to the balcony, leaning against it, the frigid night breeze cooling you.

Dick snorts, but he smiles, "Don't let him hear you say that." You withhold a grin as you watch the tension leave his shoulders.

You smirk, "Yeah, just like you didn't tell him I knew you were Robin."

Dick furrows his eyebrows, standing up straighter, "Hey— I thought you said I was off the hook for that. I never even told him!" He throws his hands up.

You trace your fingers against the smooth metal of the railing, "Mhm,"

Dick frowns, taken aback, "Did you just 'Mhm' me?" He narrows his eyes at you, leaning next to you.

You turn toward him, smirking.

"Don't—"

"Mhm,"

Dick sighs, exasperated. "You are impossible."

"I know, truly nobody could compare." You joke, smirking at Dick. You toss him a smug glance from the corner of your eye.

"Of course, of course. How could I presume such a thing?" Dick smirks back at you.

You click your tongue, "Common mistake. Don't worry, one day you might be able to reach my level."

Dick barks out a surprised laugh, "Wow, okay. I see how it is."

You are about to make a retort, but a middle-aged lady comes over to you two. Her hair is up in an elegant updo, and her dress appears to fit her perfectly, likely tailored. The emerald green fabric catches the warm lights of the Manor radiantly. You don't recognize her, but judging by the way Dick moves slightly closer to you, he does.

"Richard! I haven't seen you at one of these in a minute." She greets him, she's holding a glass of champagne in her hand.

Dick offers her a small, polite smile. "Mrs. Carrington," he nods, "I hope you're doing well."

She waves her free hand at him casually, "Oh, please, call me Meredith. I've known you since you were little." She laughs, and Dick awkwardly joins in. She looks you up and down, and you feel proud that you don't shrink under her judgment. "Who's this? New girl?"

Both you and Dick stiffen, "Oh… Uh—" He starts, but is quickly cut off.

"The other one you introduced me to… Barbara was it? She was quite nice. You two made a good pair." She sips on her champagne. "Didn't hear that you two broke up."

Dick shifts, trying to assess your reaction, but you don't offer it to him. "Yeah," he smacks his lips, "earlier this year."

She hums, "Hmm, shame." You fight the sting of pain threatening to pierce your chest at that moment. You will not fall into that rabbit hole. You told yourself. "Who's the new girl, though?"

"Just a fri—" You fight the rising heat. Embarrassment? Anger? You start talking, but you are never able to finish your statement.

Dick slings his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer. You stumble on your feet, surprised by the unexpected pull. You look at him, startled, but he doesn't look at you. Instead, he offers your name to Meredith.

"Aw, she's gorgeous!" Meredith fawns over you, and despite your bewilderment at the situation, you instinctively shift closer to Dick. He rubs a hand on your shoulder,

"Isn't she?" You subtly elbow him at his words. What is he doing? Just tell the woman that you aren't dating. It is not this difficult.

"How long have you two been going out for?" She asks, clearly not wanting to leave.

"A couple months. She actually just recently graduated from university." He grins proudly.

"Ah!" Meredith turns to actually face you for the first time. "Smart girl, huh?"

Dick grins, "The smartest." He looks towards you, a soft smile on his face. You mirror the action to him passive-aggressively. You'd actually argue maybe Babs or something, but clearly Dick has decided he's going to do all the talking for this conversation.

"Aw, how'd you two meet?" She asks, her cheeks are flushed, but more importantly, her words are loud. You can see a few people turn their attention to the three of you.

"Haaaa… Funny story," Dick looks down for you, as if prompting you to speak it. You meet his gaze. He made his grave; he will lie in it. You smile at him innocently, and after a long moment of you two staring at each other, he realizes that you aren't going to be helpful.

"She stumbled into me by chance. Complete chance accident." He turns toward you, and you smirk at him, "She had— uh— been having a bad day." Real descriptive. "I caught her alone in one of the storage rooms of a library, and I couldn't let a beautiful lady like herself mope alone. I offered to take her out." Dick rubs your shoulder again, and you raise an eyebrow at him. Why did you have to sound so miserable? Why couldn't it have been him?

"Actually, honey, I'm pretty sure it was you who was moping. You gave me such convincing puppy dog eyes that I just couldn't say no." You interrupt, causing Dick and Meredith to turn to you. "Isn't that right?" You turn towards Dick, smiling.

Dick laughs loudly, but doesn't hesitate, "Oh, you got me. She knows me too well." He rubs the back of his neck, grabbing your hand and clasping it into his own.

Meredith looks amused at the two of you, laughing. "Aw, true love." She gushes.

"The truest." You nod, smiling. Dick glances at you from the corner of his eye, and you make a point not to meet his glance.

"Well," she nods at the two of you, "I best be on my way. It was a pleasure as always, Richard," she smiles at Dick before turning to you and addressing you. You nod back at her with a polite smile as she walks away.

The moment she is gone, you slowly turn towards Dick. You make sure nobody is looking before glaring at him, "What the hell do you think you're—"

"Richard." Damian appears out of thin air.

Dick immediately turns to his younger brother. Meanwhile, you're still staring at him. "Dick." You spit his name out.

"Damian!" Dick grins, ignoring your piercing glare. "I didn't think any of you guys were gonna show up at the gala?"

"I came to address the allegations that have been circling." Damian adjusts his tie.

"Did you?" Dick's grin looks a lot more strained now.

Damian raises an eyebrow at him before turning to him. You cross your arms, "Don't look at me. He's the one who lied to that poor woman."

Dick chuckles softly, his eyes shifting between you and Damian nervously "I wouldn't describe her as 'poor.'"

You and Damian both glare at him, "How'd you even hear about it this fast?" You turn to Damian.

"He danced with you and publicly revealed your 'relationship' to the public." Damian eyes you, unimpressed.

"Okay, to be fair, there were dozens of people dancing, and we only talked to one person." Dick holds his hands up thoughtfully.

Damian scoffs, "One person might as well be the entire planet. Do you know what kind of people are here?" He crosses his arms.

You stare at the ground for a moment as Damian and Dick go back and forth. At a certain point, you aren't even sure what they're arguing about. They are both so distracted by themselves that they don't even notice you walk out of the balcony.

It's easy to slip away from the party, for nobody seems to take note of you as you make your way through the Manor. Eventually, you find your way to the grandfather clock, making your way down to the cave.

Upon entering, you notice that the cave is surprisingly empty, a rare occurrence on nights like these. You find a chair to sit down on, throwing the heels off your aching feet, sighing.

The soft hum of the computer isn't enough to distract you from your thoughts, nor are the quiet squeaks of the bats. Dick had been acting odd recently, but you assumed that was just a result of not seeing each other for years.

Perhaps he figured it out.

Did he figure out you liked him back then? Is this his way of humiliating you? It didn't seem like something he'd do, but perhaps he has changed. What else could've been the purpose of that stunt he pulled?

You sigh again as you lean back in the chair. God, he couldn't leave you be, could he? You were so convinced you were over him after spending years apart. All it took was one grin thrown at you and a spin on the dance floor, and suddenly, you're back in high school, attempting to hide your feelings for Robin, your Robin. He must know. Why else would he be trying so hard to spend every moment with you? Hell, he even offered to be your "date" to this event, bought matching flowers.

Damian was right, you were— are an absolute fool.

Your name echoes across the cave, and you instantly recognize his voice. Dick comes running over, concern evident in his tone, "You had me worried. One second I'm there with Damian, and the next you've vanished." He approaches you with his jacket draped over his arm.

You look up from the ground, up to his troubled eyes. He says your name softly before approaching you, "Was it too much? That's fine. I'll tell Damian off later for that. He shouldn't have confronted us then, especially after the stunt he pulled against you earlier. He and I will talk about privacy." He chuckles, attempting to fill the silence. "We don't have to go back if you don't want to, we can just stay here," he says as he sits in the chair next to you, raising his hand to place it on your lap, "together—"

"Am I a joke to you?" Your voice is quieter than you expected. Nonetheless, the words echo around the cave.

Dick pauses, taking his hand back, "What..?" He hesitates, unsure whether or not to place his hand on you. "What… A joke?" He repeats the words, as if not understanding the concept.

You look up to him, "Yes, Dick, do you think this is funny?"

His lips part, his eyes clouded with that concern, and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. Do you hate it? Love it? "I… don't—" He sputters.

"Don't play dumb with me. I know you know what I'm talking about." You sit up straighter, and he leans back away from you. He slowly stands up.

"I…" He says your name, "I really don't know."

"Oh, so you don't know that I used to like you? I find that hard to believe." Your chest shudders, and you look down, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Dick inhales sharply, and that's all the answer you needed. "You did know." You state. It's not a question, and he knows that.

His voice is pleading once again. He whispers your name, "I didn't know until recently."

"'Cause that makes it so much better. You find out that I liked you and decide that you can't live with me not being head over heels for you—"

Dick's head snaps up, "—Don't put words in my mouth." He cuts you off. "I have never once thought that or said anything like that."

"Really? So you didn't have an ulterior motive for taking me out for this tonight?" You glare at him, struggling to meet his eyes.

Dick inhales deeply, and you scoff, turning away. "God, this is why I didn't contact you."

Dick furrows his eyebrows, "What's that supposed to mean?"

You stand up, "Dick, I didn't just like you. I loved you. I cherished any moment we had together. I longed for you to say something, anything."

Dick looked at you as if you slapped him, "I didn't know."

You nod slowly, smiling humorlessly, "I know, and I don't fault you for that, but years after pining uselessly made me realize I have to move on." You stare at him, absently noting that his clothes are disheveled. The once perfectly ironed suit looks like it went through a tornado. "I spent years away, and I used that time to move on, or at least…" You trail off, shaking your head, looking at Dick.

Clearing your throat, you sit back down, "I couldn't contact you when I got back. I couldn't contact you because I'd be proving that I had made no progress. I didn't 'get over you.'" You do air quotes. "All I'd be proving was that getting over you was impossible. If years apart couldn't do it, what could?"

Dick's lip trembled, but his eyes were unreadable. "You avoided me for years to try and get over some— some crush?"

You huff, "I didn't 'avoid you for years—'"

"No," Dick cuts you off, "Don't sugarcoat it. You were avoiding me."

"I was trying to get over you."

"So you decided to— what— ditch me?"

You shake your head, "You weren't short of company." You almost regret your words at the shaky inhale from Dick. You open your mouth, then close it. "I… didn't mean it like that." You mutter softly.

Dick scoffs, running a hand through his hair, loosening the gelled strands. "How did you mean it then?"

You look to Dick, "I— Look, does it matter? We can just move on. Pretend this didn't happen."

Dick stills, "Pretend?" The word drops in his stomach.

"Dick, I knew you'd never like me." You smile painfully, your lips trembling, you look up at him from your chair, "I'm okay with it. I learned to make peace with it."

Dick looks down at you, fist clenched, his eyes darting over you in disbelief. "You're serious?" You nod. "You want to pretend that this conversation never happened? You want to pretend that I didn't wait by your apartment just to catch a glimpse of you? You want to pretend that I didn't make up some excuse to take you out here tonight? You want to pretend that the dance we shared meant nothing?"

You hold back any tearful emotions that threaten to arise. "Dick, it doesn't mean nothing." You take a deep breath, calming your breathing. "It's just… It's not like that. It's never been like that. Believe me, I wanted it to be."

"'Not like that?'" His eyes are wide, as if he can't believe your words. "I almost kissed you, and it's 'not like that'?" He doesn't bother to mask the hurt.

You shake your head, "I thought the same thing, the same thing, Dick. I thought that having a moment like that would be the start of something new, but it wasn't. I thought that maybe after the day I finally got introduced to your life, your real life, that things would change."

Dick remains silent for a moment, you think that maybe he'll let this conversation go, but he decides to ask one question: "What if they can change now?"

His words make you freeze, but your hands tremble. "Are you serious?" Your voice audibly wavers.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

You can't help the appalled scoff that escapes you, "You can't just decide to love me back, Dick. That isn't how it works. You can't just decide to love me after not loving me for years. Genuinely, did you hear the idea of me loving you and idealize what we could've been? Do you actually 'love me back' or are you only saying this because you're confused?

"No! It's not like that." Dick's voice is smaller.

You laugh, your eyes beginning to water against your will, but you refuse to let the tears fall. "Forgive me, but I don't believe you."

Dick stares down at you, seated in the chair next to the computer. He places the jacket onto the desk before turning back to you, "How can I prove it?"

You blink, looking up to face him, "What?"

"That I've loved you."

"Dick," you sigh, you're so tired, "don't—"

"Do you need me to tell you?" He walks closer to you. "Show you?" He persists.

"Dick…" You whisper shakily, turning away from Dick in your swivel chair. Dick grabs the armrest, preventing you from turning away. Your breath hitches, looking him up and down as he looms over you, his eyes desperate. At your assessment, he kneels at your feet, grabbing your hand and gently caressing it.

Horrified, you look down at him from your seated position, "What are you doing?" You ask, anger momentarily forgotten.

"Telling you." He nods resolutely, the words quiet, but strong. "Back then," he starts breathlessly, "Back then, I couldn't figure you out. You matched me in a way that no one had before, I remember—" he chuckles, the action rushed, "I remember thinking that something was different about our friendship. I wasn't sure what it was…" He relaxes once he realizes he has your attention. "I just remember attempting to find a way to get you to react. I wanted something from you, I just wasn't sure what."

You blink down at him, and he looks up at you. "It was stupid. I remember saying such stupid shit to get you to react. I didn't know what type of reaction I wanted. I just kept trying for something." He pauses. "I didn't realize it immediately at the time, but I remember now, the first time it had happened." He looks down at the ground, thoughtfully. "That day you met Bruce, before I went down the subway." Your breath hitched. "I remember you were right there in front of me. I could see how you tensed expectantly, your breath shuddering. I remember looking into your eyes, and for a moment, I couldn't think. I didn't even remember that there was a bomb down in that subway. All I could focus on was you."

Dick looks up from the ground, meeting your eyes. "I didn't know it at the time, but that was what I was looking for. The way you looked at me that day before I went down there."

You frown, closing your eyes and shaking your head. "Dick, you don't—"

"I didn't know at the time, I hadn't figured out what it was that I wanted. However, after that day, something had changed. I couldn't help but look at you differently. I noticed things I previously threw aside. I would catch myself observing you, and I didn't stop. I don't think I could've. It had just become something that I did, a habit."

He exhales deeply. "When you were gone for college, I felt like something was different."

You scoff, the action coming out softer than you intended, "You can just say you missed me."

Dick swallows, blinking up at you, "I missed you." He whispers without hesitation. You have to look away from his eyes to escape the honesty of his words.

"I missed you so much. I thought about you every day. It wasn't like how it was when we were in school together. No." He laughs quietly, "I couldn't stop thinking about you. I thought that I had just wanted you to return, but then it started to hurt. Absence makes the heart grow fonder or something…" He runs his free hand through his hair, his shoulders tense, "When I heard you had returned…" He trails off.

Sighing, you slowly grab his hand, prompting him to continue. "I… I almost wondered if I had hallucinated your voice. I couldn't— wouldn't believe you'd have returned and not tell me."

You wince at the jab, intentional or not. "I'm sorry…"

He offers you a small, melancholic smile, "I realized something when you returned. You had fallen out of love. You'd fallen out of love before I ever got the chance to tell you I had fallen in love." He huffs, shaking his head.

You mirror his action, "Dick…"

"Please," he slowly stands up, pulling you up from the chair. "I will prove it. Show you I'm not confused." You stare at him, looking at his eyes. You let him pull you closer as he brings his hand up to gently hold your chin. Your lips part in surprise. Holding your breath, you meet his eyes. "Please. Let me show you I mean this."

You are unsure how long the two of you stand there in each other's hold. Slowly, you place your hands over his shoulders, causing his tense shoulders to relax under your touch. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, but he doesn't ever divert his attention from your eyes.

"I waited for a long time." You whisper, the words barely audible.

"I know." His voice breaks slightly.

"I didn't think you'd ever reciprocate." You break eye contact with him, looking down at his chest.

He holds you tighter, "I know." He mutters softly. "I'm sorry."

You shift your downcast gaze to him, meeting his eyes. Slowly leaning forward, you close your eyes as you softly kiss his lips. You didn't draw it out, and Dick remained frozen even after you pulled back. You can't help the small smile on your face when you pull back, his pupils dilated. "I'm tired of waiting." You whisper to him.

Dick continues to stare into your eyes, dazed. You reach your hand up, hesitant to touch his face. At your hesitation, Dick grabs your hand, guiding it to his face. "I'm sorry you had to." He whispers back to you, leaning into your hand.

You hum, amused. The two of you stand there in silence for a moment, "Don't—"

"Oh my— in the cave, really?" Tim interrupts you both, causing you to flinch. Dick immediately turns to him, noting that Damian is standing next to him. "You could go literally anywhere in the manor, and you decide to do this here?"

"How long have you both been standing there?" You ask, subtly shifting away from Dick.

Tim raises an eyebrow, looking between you two. "Not too long."

Damian stares at the two of you, frowning, "I was under the impression that you and Todd had been in cohorts."

You raise your hands in surrender. Well, that moment was ruined. At Damian's words, Dick immediately whips around to you. "Don't listen to him, he misunderstood what I told him." You shake your head at Dick.

Damian narrows his eyes, "He 'bought her a croissant.'" He points at you as if it's your fault.

"Why did you say it like that?" Tim blinks wearily at Damian's odd inflection.

Damian scoffs, turning to Tim on his left, "Don't you understand the implications of such an act?"

Tim blinks down at him, "She was… hungry?"

Damian gives Tim an exasperated look before walking over to you and Dick. "Just because you're dating Richard does not mean I will forget the past." He narrows his eyes at you before turning around and walking off. Tim watches him storm off before sighing and following behind him.

You slowly turn to Dick, "He's exaggerating. Wild imagination."

Dick snorts, "I'm sure."

You grimace at the memory, "He thinks that something was going on between Jason and me."

Dick's smile falls slightly. "Was there?" He almost looks afraid of the answer.

You roll your eyes, "No. After everything we talked about, you still doubt me?" You grab his hand, pulling him towards the exit. You hear him exhale in relief, and you tilt your head. "Wait, that was an actual worry?"

Dick smiles awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with you.

"Oh my goodness, that's why you were being so weird at my apartment. You were jealous."

Dick rolls his eyes as you slowly pull him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

You toss him a smug, knowing glance. "Mhm," You hum, walking on his side. "Wait— where are my heels?" You turn around, momentarily forgetting you took them off in anger earlier.

Dick holds them up casually, you raise an eyebrow, "When'd you grab them?" You thank him before offering him your clutch to hold as you put the heels on.

"You were distracted." He shrugs, watching as you put them on.

You roll your eyes affectionately, "Distracted." You huff, "I'm never distracted." You take your clutch back before looking into Dick's eyes, watching you with just pure adoration. Wait a minute… You recognize that look.

"Dick,"

He tilts his head, "Yeah?"

"Were you distracted that night at the subway?" You slowly turn to him.

He huffs, amused, "I did say all I could focus on was you. Why?"

You feel your smile fall as you part your mouth in horror. "Are you saying I distracted you from the bomb, thus causing you to get caught in the explosion?"

Dick purses his lips before clicking his tongue, his eyes darting around the cave, guiltily. "…It's been a long day."

"Are you saying that I caused you to almost die?!" You furrow your eyebrows in horror.

"Let's go back out there, we've been down here long enough—"

"Dick—"

"Sweetheart?"

"No— No, you can't do that."

"Actually, I think I can, boyfriend rules." He shrugs, smirking unapologetically, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. He grabs your hand before you even get a chance to retort, guiding you up the staircase back to the Manor. You don't bother to fight the small smile growing on your face, Dick's blinding grin mirroring your own.

Perhaps you can get used to this.

> Jason’s ending

A/N: Heyyy, it's me. For those who stuck around to support the first part I love you so much. Every single comment fueled me to get this MONSTER of a fic done. I did NOT think I'd be posting an, essentially, 30k word fic on TUMBLR but here we are I guess. Okay, now to business. I was ASTOUNDED by the amount of people who loved Jason's scene in the previous chapter. I hope that I did him justice in this one. While this is the end of the story for the Reader and Dick, I will throw the idea of writing an alternate ending out there. Basically the entire first chapter would be the same, EXCEPT, the reader would get with Jason instead and everything in this chapter would be different cause it'd be reader and Jason's story, not reader and Dick's. The reader would ACTUALLY move on, rather than lie to herself for 18k words. So yeah, I'm gonna want some feedback for that because I do want to try and make it at least somewhat standalone (as in you don't need the context of chapter 1 but it still applies to the story). I know it will be LONG, so it will take me weeks to write. So let me know if you wanna see that! Thanks for all the support on the last chapter though! I love each like, comment, and reblog I receive. I will update this post/my blog if I decide to write that, but y'all would have to be patient with me. Thanks for all the support :D

Quick update: Yeah okay you all can get the Jason ending oh my 😭😭 Thanks for the support. I know some of you were wanting her to get with him DON’T WORRY I THOUGHT THE SAMEEE THING THATS WHY I PROPOSED THE IDEA. If you want to be on the taglist let me know. I will be taking this taglist and using it for that fic (when it comes out) so if you don’t wanna be tagged for that anymore just lmk I won’t be upset!

Taglist: @a-taken-url @mrs-cactus69 @destinyleka @raitsukii @letssee2468 @mrrayjay @k1w1th3s1r3n @annonymatic @moonologyy @freewastelandstrawberry @code-ghost-cc @sweetpeadc @erinschantaine @shereadsandcries @starsinthepavement @adhxmoony @pixieeee101 @d1lf-loverrr @spectae @wallyluvrxo @nittyg @intergalactic-padawan @givemefinganame @doveotion @lagoonia @missusmoony @fangirlingnerdork @manhwabtch @lust4daya @thedeathmoth07 @winx333-blog @gab15 @peachmartini @rinsluhvr @stargirl9911 @yura-4life @alittlelostalittlefound @spencerreidswifexd @yn-wayne @justanotherweeb666 @mochiclouds @backtonormalthings @meep-merp124 @noodleswastaken

He'd been stationed in Coventry, attempting to get scraps of information. After days of dead ends, the city took pity on him and threw him a bone. Apparently, a truck shipment was supposed to be heading through the Upper East Side around midnight. The dealer he questioned told him that it'd be leaving from a warehouse a couple blocks down. He set off without hesitation. They didn't expect him. This could be the best shot for him to catch them off guard.

It wasn't long before he found it. He slipped in unnoticed (nobody ever thinks to look up), kneeling on top of the truck with no issues.

"Don't stop for nothin'." Goon One gestured towards his buddy in a "I'm watching you" motion.

"Hm, what about the Bats?" The other guy, Goon Two, crossed his arms, nose scrunching at the first guy's words. He lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke out onto his face.

Goon One swat the smoke away, "We should have somebody distracting them up by Newtown or Crime Alley, somewhere in that area. I can't remember. Truthfully, we're just trying to get Red Hood off our ass for a night." Goon One climbed into the truck's driver's seat.

"I'm telling you! It wasn't worth dealing to them kids to get his attention on us." Goon Two threw his hands up, tossing the cigarette onto the ground and stomping out the ashes. He ran his fingers through his hair, visibly distressed. Jason absently noted that both of them were easily identifiable. They had no masks, and one of them had visible tattoos of a dragon curled on the side of his neck. Amateur mistake, but Jason wasn't complaining. It made his job a whole lot easier.

He felt the truck shake as it started up. He carefully crouched towards the front of it, looking down the windshield to see the goons still in there. Their voices are muffled, but they are so loud that Jason can still hear them. Somebody doesn't know how to use their inside voice.

"Relax, man." They started to pull out of the warehouse, and Jason made sure to keep his balance on the truck. "It'll be a clean job tonight."

Goon Two scoffed, "Yeah! I'm sure you'll be saying that when Hood comes crashing down onto our windshield." Jason smirks under his helmet, these guys have no fucking idea.

"Christ, dude, you act like he's out for your hide specifically!" They started pulling onto the main road. Jason latched his hands onto the corners of the vehicle, securing himself to it.

"I'm telling you! He's gonna know it was me who was dealing to those kids by Brentwood!"

"Can he blame us though? Those kids pay up." They turn onto a different street. Jason scanned the area, not as much traffic as the main road. If he's gonna bust them, now is the golden opportunity. He adjusts his jacket, preparing for impact.

Inevitably, they slow down. Just before they come to a stop he decides to act. He uses the boost of momentum to propel himself onto the windshield, shattering it.

"HOLY SHIT!" Goon One presses on the gas, swerving to the side, nearly slamming Jason into a nearby store. Luckily, he moves off the vehicle before they get that chance.

"How'd you know I was gonna go for the windshield?" Jason called out, smirking as he loaded his Glock with rubber bullets.

"Dude, DRIVE—"

"YOU DON'T THINK I'M TRYING?!" Goon One snapped back, attempting to reverse the truck away from the massive dent in the (now-decimated) store.

Jason strolls casually over to the truck, knowing it won't get very far. The shattered glass beneath his feet clinks under his boots as he slowly approaches the vehicle. He doesn't get too close though because—

"OH FUCK!" Goon Two cried out as the vehicle was propelled upward by an explosion, causing it to land on its side. The entire back half of the truck was bathed in bright incandescent flames, but— Jason noted— it hadn't spread to the front yet.

Jason saunters over to the front, noting the lack of a windshield. He tilted his head down the side of the tilted vehicle to see the two goons still inside, coughing. Hastily, they unbuckled themselves and crawled through the shattered glass, garnering sharp cuts with each movement. Eventually, they distanced themselves from the burning vehicle, laying sprawled, face up, and eyes closed on the pavement. Then they open them, only to be greeted with his body towering over their own.

Jason gives them a malicious smirk behind his helmet. "Hey, I don't think you can park here." He gestures his thumb towards the flaming truck.

Goon One's brow turned down, his lips scrunched up in such a disdainful glower that Jason was almost impressed. He spat towards Jason's boot, missing it. "Fuckin' bastard. Thought you was busy in Crime Alley."

"Well, now I'm busy here." Jason took his boot, placing it over the guys ear. "Now, how about we talk? I gotta few questions for you two."

"Hold it right there, Hood." Jason turned, unsurprised by the new voice, towards the dozen of armed men surrounding him.

"I'll take that as a no." Jason pressed down harder onto the guy's head, the goon let out a small whimper at the pressure.

"How about you leave my buddy alone, and we'll make this quick." One of the new guys said, turning his pistol's safety lock off.

Now, Jason isn't stupid. While he knows he could take these guys down, he also knows he's extremely outnumbered. Typically, anybody would say that in this case, the odds are against him.

He knew something like this would likely happen. He can't imagine that transporting such precious cargo would go without safety precautions. He realized early on that whatever caused this spike in the drug trade wouldn't vanish over night; he had to play the long game.

While intercepting the truck was a bonus, the real point of this was to find the base of operations. It was to find where this started and who they reported to. It's why he went out of his way to go get a special smoke bomb from Bruce.

Okay, he didn't actually ask Bruce, but that's besides the point. He had gone into the cave a couple weeks ago, not knowing anybody would be there, let alone you. Jason immediately recognized you, though. There was a point in time where all Dick would do was rave about you. It was honestly a little annoying, but it was all worth it the moment he cut you off in the middle of your introduction. The way your mouth parted in surprise, like a fish out of water. He chuckled at the thought.

Anyway, you being there didn't stop him from completing his objective. He was already there, so he wasn't going to turn around because you were hanging around. If anything, he was glad he ran into you as opposed to literally anybody else. At least your questions he could handle (as nosy as they were).

The smoke bombs he wanted to take were special because they expelled nanoparticles into the air. Anybody exposed would be coated in them, and could thus be tracked when isolated on one of Bruce's satellites. They wore off after a week or two, but they'd get the job done. Jason knew that Bruce had them, and he grabbed it specifically for this mission. With so many people surrounding him, one of them was bound to end up in an important location, one that he could track.

He had taken them back to one of his warehouses weeks ago in the box you provided. While he was there he had also restocked on some of the gadgets he was low on. He already made an effort to show up at the cave, might as well make the most of it.

Jason grabbed the smoke bomb, hidden in one of his pockets. He kept it out of view before he reached to pull the pin—

Wait, this was one of the normal ones.

Trying not to show his alarm, he subtly pats himself down as the other guy continues to blab about who knows what. He doesn't feel it anywhere on him. Fuck, he could've sworn he grabbed it. He tries to think back to where he left it… The box… Then he realized.

Shit… you were right.

—

"Go left," you tap your finger on the desk of the Batcomputer as you watch the purple and red dot— Spoiler and Red Robin— move across Gotham. "Your other left." You correct them as you watch the dots move away from the crime.

For the past couple weeks, you had been practically begging Bruce to let you be useful in some manner. After all, you already spend so much time with them, why not just add you to the team?

Okay, that was a bit of a reach, but you argued that even if you aren't a skilled fighter or trained assassin, you can always help on comms. You had gotten Babs to vouch for you, and finally Bruce relented, saying that you could help only when Babs is on comms with you to help. You thought it was a little counterproductive considering Babs could be out there as Batgirl instead of being forced to babysit you as Oracle, but you knew you needed the training. Perhaps one day you'd get good enough for Bruce to let you work on your own with comms.

"What do you see? There's no cameras I can access nearby." You ask, cycling through all nearby cameras at the crime scene. All of the available ones are out of range. You'd have used the cameras on Steph or Tim, but that's not something Babs has taught you to use yet.

"Looks like a group of four thugs, all around the same height, like 5'11? They are covered head to toe in all black. Each of them has a balaclava on. It looks like they're robbing a…" Tim hesitates, "sandwich… store? One of the guys is attempting to break into a car parked on the curb."

"Are they hungry or something?" Steph whispers.

You frown as you look at cameras in the area, noting that a nearby building is burning down. You look back at their colored dots on the map of Gotham. "Not hungry, just panicked. There's a building burning on the seventeenth floor two blocks down from you. Looks like an explosion went off. You guys think you can handle that?"

"We'll be fine, one of us will deal with the building while the other goes after the sandwich guys." Steph proposes. "I'll go after the sandwich guys."

"That's objectively easier— whatever, guess I'll see you then." Tim hums frustrated, you watch as their dots separate on the screen.

"You're doing pretty good." Babs suddenly speaks, causing you to jolt. You had decided to make a specific channel for your work to be on. It wasn't very practical, but it meant that there was a backup in case the main one ever got leaked.

"Thanks." You huff, this was stressful.

"Might wanna send some backup to Red Robin though, it looks like that fire spread." She notes. You look at one of the cameras near it, and— yep, wow that spread really fast.

You make sure that Tim can hear you before you speak, you tend to make sure you're muted unless they actively need you. After all, it'd probably be distracting to hear casual conversation in the background while you're fighting.

"Red Robin, do you need backup?"

Tim breathes heavily, "That'd be nice!" You hear the building start to collapse in the back of his audio. "If I can get to the heart of the fire I should be able to extinguish it, but I'll need help getting these kids out. I'm almost there." You nod before searching for the other dots that are nearby him that are tuned into your frequency. You notice that one of them is oddly close to you, that's weird, basically everybody is out tonight.

"I think Black Bat is near you, I'll send her over in a sec—"

"What the— Oh shit— What are you doing here?" You hear Tim curse before asking… somebody. It's kind of difficult to tell what the other voice says. It seems that Tim stopped the fire, but the background of his audio wasn't any calmer.

Sitting up straighter, you scoot closer to the desk, "Red Robin, do you copy?"

After a long pause, Tim responds, "Backup is here… I'll be fine, tell Black Bat it's all good."

Raising an eyebrow, you try to see who it is, "You… sure?"

"Yep!" Tim immediately responds, "Yep… I gotta mute though—"

You furrow your eyebrows, "What? Who is it?"

"I'll tell you later— Yeah, give me a second— Actually, you'll probably see him later. Gotta go— Yes, we're on a different comm frequency give me a moment!" You presume that the random switches in topic are him talking to the "backup."

"Red Robin, wait—"

"I'll be all fine, bye!" You can't conceal your jaw dropping as Robin mutes himself from the comms. You clench your hands as you attempt to pull footage of Tim's location. With how deep he is in the building, there is nothing that provides a clear view of him or the mysterious assistance. You huff, leaning back in your chair. "I can't believe him."

"I can."

You whip around so fast that you feel your vision blur momentarily before settling on none other than—

"Jason Todd?" You furrow your eyebrows and immediately compose yourself, trying to appear unbothered.

Jason raises an unimpressed eyebrow, "We still doing the full name thing?" He sets his helmet next to your keyboard.

"Don't act like you aren't the one who started it." You point an accusing finger to him.

"Hm," Jason grunts, turning his gaze from you to your workspace.

"Don't 'hm' me!" You furrow your eyebrows, following his gaze to your desk. It's less than ideal. The entire space is crawling with scrap notebook paper, filled with little notes you left for yourself. The Batcomputer is even worse. Despite the numerous monitors that make up the device each one has its screen split into at least two other tabs. "Oh, so we're judging now?"

Jason blinks slowly at you, moving to lean against your desk. "I'm not judging."

"Ohhhh my bad, are you 'merely observing?'" You do air quotes. Tim would say that to you all the damn time. Even repeating the wretched phrase makes the heat in your chest rise.

Jason raises a hand, snapping the fingers before pointing at you. "Yes."

You nod, "Great, great. Just so you know, for the record…" You slowly close out of some tabs on the various side monitors, "I'm usually more organized." You close a few more.

Jason nods slowly at you, "Alright." He sounds vaguely amused.

"Like a lot more." You close a few more tabs.

Jason nods slightly faster, his eyes closing as if he resonates with your statement. "Of course."

"You caught me at a bad time." You close even more tabs.

Jason sucks in air through his teeth sympathetically, wincing. The amusement on his face is now evident. His lips are turned slightly upward the longer you keep talking. "Been there."

"It's organized chaos… It looked bad, I know, but I knew where everything was." You close the final tab, silencing your comms, before turning to face him entirely.

Jason crosses his arms, still leaned against your desk, "Yeah," He is openly smirking at you.

"You know your sarcasm isn't really appreciated." You feel your eye twitch as you mirror his pose, crossing your own arms and kicking up one leg to rest on the other in your seat.

"Hm, unfortunate." He deadpans, "Is there a more convenient time to deliver it when you will appreciate it?"

"Actually yes," you roll your eyes, but can't help the smirk on your face. You back straightens as you clear your throat, "Saturdays, 2:34 AM." You randomly pick the first time and date that comes to your mind, something inconvenient.

Jason's eyebrows shift up slightly before settling, "Really? That's the only window?"

You nod contritely, "No later, no earlier."

"Does the second matter?"

You're taken aback for a moment, but don't let that show. You are committed, you can not let this guy win. "As long as it's within the minute."

"Generous." Jason snorts.

"As I'm told." You bow your head in acknowledgment, no bothering to hide your amusement. "Now, care to tell me why you decided to try and give me a heart attack when I'm trying to help your teammates not die?"

"I didn't try to." Jason tilts his head slightly.

"Yet you did anyway." You stand up, pushing your chair back. You got the feeling he got a sort of satisfaction of looking down and teasing you in the chair.

"Unfortunate side effect." Jason shrugs.

"You don't seem that upset." You raise an eyebrow.

"Unfortunate for you." He emphasizes, he is openly smirking now.

"Oh, so you're saying you don't want my help with whatever you need." You pretend to think, watching as his mouth parts in surprise. Feigning innocence, you prepare to sit back down in the chair—

"Now I didn't say that." Jason holds his hands up in mock surrender, chuckling.

"You implied it." You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, shrugging.

Jason doesn't dignify that with a response, giving you an unamused stare. (Okay but he's got to be amused, he was smirking less than a minute ago!)

You sigh, eventually conceding, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need something."

"I… figured. I can't imagine we'd be having this conversation if you didn't." You respond dryly, leaning against the desk.

Jason's eyes narrow, but you don't fold, merely raising an eyebrow. He sighs, "Remember what happened a couple weeks ago?"

"A couple weeks ago…" You nod, "When we met?" Jason nods, silently.

"Oh," you blink, "Oh." You smirk. He came back for what he dropped in the cave a few weeks ago. Something he wouldn't have dropped if he had just listened to you when you told him to not drive his bike with an open box.

Jason doesn't meet your eyes, "Do you have it?"

"Have what?" You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes.

Jason's eye twitches slightly, his smirk widening in irritation, "You know."

"Mm, I don't? There are lots of things that I have and don't have." You casually trace your fingers on the ridges of his helmet on the desk. Jason glares at your hand, but doesn't move to take his helmet back. The helmet is rougher to the touch than you expect, you can feel every imperfections on it. "Gonna have to specify what you want."

Jason narrows his eyes at you, and you smile at him. "The thing."

You nod, "Oh, the thing." You reply gravely, pointing to him as if you just figured out what he's talking about. "Yes, I know where the thing is."

Jason takes a deep breath, before sighing. "I thought you said you don't accept sarcasm unless it's during your unnecessarily specific time?" He raises an eyebrow, frowning slightly, it almost looks like a pout.

Closing your eyes, you nod, "That I did." You look from his helmet to his eyes, "But I said I don't accept it until that time.

"So you can just dish it whenever?" Jason responds impassively. "That doesn't seem fair."

"What can I say? I receive a lot of it." You shrug, sitting down in the chair, the added weight to the chair causing it to roll away from Jason.

Jason watches as you roll back to the keyboard of the desk, letting out an amused exhale, "I can imagine, working with them?"

"I can't imagine you're innocent." You raise an eyebrow.

Jason smirks, but doesn't respond to that. "I do need the thing though."

You slowly turn the chair to face him, "That is no more specific than the last time you said 'the thing.'" You tap the armrest of your chair.

Jason inhales, and this time you can hear it. "The gadget."

"Which gadget?"

"You know which one."

"The one you dropped when leaving after I told you to close the box?"

Jason is silent for a moment, staring at you as if your expression will tell him its whereabouts. You raise an eyebrow, an easy-going smile painted on your face. "Yes." He grits the words out.

The smile on your face grows, you perk up in your seat. "Ohhh, why didn't you just say that?"

Jason tries to mirror the smile on your face, but it looks stiff. "I did."

You raise a finger up, shaking it. "Nuh-uh, you said 'the thing' and 'the gadget.'"

"You knew what I meant." Jason huffs, looking away from you.

You smirk, "Well, now I do."

Jason sighs, suddenly looking exhausted. You almost feel bad."You have it right?"

"Hm?" You blink, holding back a smile, "Oh, no. I threw it away like a week ago." You wave your hand casually, biting the inside of your lip to keep yourself from smiling.

Jason stares at you, unblinking. "What?"

"Nah, I'm playing." You grin. "Be lucky I didn't though." You stand up, gesturing for him to follow.

"Yeah," he huffs, slowly following behind you, "so lucky."

Grabbing a small box, you hand it over to him. "It's actually sealed." You drop the box abruptly into his arms. It's small, but light. You can feel the gadget roll around the box as you drop it. He catches it with ease.

"Taking a gamble just dropping it like that." Jason examines the tape covering the box. "What if there's a bomb in here?" He shakes it gently, as if trying to hear what is inside.

You huff, "There's not a bomb in there. Didn't look like any bomb I've seen." You shake your head at him. No need to tell him you've never really seen a bomb in person. He eyes you, looking from the box, up to you, and back down to the box.

You stand up straighter, furrowing your eyebrows in contemplation. Jason smirks at your uncertainty, shaking it harder. "Wait!" You frantically shake your head, reaching your hands out to him. Snatching the box back, you hold it out of his reach, "Are you crazy?"

"You just said there's 'not a bomb in there.'" He tilts his head innocently, something that should not be possible for him.

You open your mouth to respond, before closing it. "I'll give it back before you leave."

Jason shrugs, he chuckles silently, "If that makes you feel better."

"It does." You nod, narrowing your eyes at him. He smirks at your stare. You look down at the box, "Did you seriously just come back for this?"

"It was very important." He nods at the box.

"So important that you left it behind before you even left the cave and didn't come back for it for—" you pretend to check a watch on your wrist, "—two weeks?"

Jason doesn't respond, instead he walks by you, pushing past your shoulder, back to the computer. "Weren't you busy making sure they didn't die or something?"

You huff at his avoidance. "I left my comm open, it's fine. They can yell if they need my help." You follow him back to the computer.

"Right," He looks at the home screen of the computer, with no tabs open. You walk up from behind him, confused why he is just staring at the screen. It's not that interesting. Last you checked, it was just a couple of red dots flashing on a screen. Tim had back-up anyway (whoever that may be). It can't be that riveting—

Oh… right. You closed off all the tabs, essentially going radio silent. Frantically, you push yourself past him, sitting in the chair and opening the comms again. "There you are." Oracle immediately cuts in the second you activate your comm again.

"Heyyy…" You grimace, feeling Jason rest on the back of your chair. You look up at him, and recline your chair back in an attempt to shove him off. He offers you an innocent wide-eyed look before moving to lean against the desk again. "Sorry, something needed my attention."

"More important than Spoiler, Red Robin, and Nightwing?"

Both you and Jason freeze, sharing a look of pure unadulterated horror. Well, Jason looks more amused than alarmed at the prospect, but you are definitely horrified. "Nightwing?" You attempt to sound unaffected.

"Yep. Apparently that's the 'backup.'" Babs responds.

Jason mouths "Oh shit" to himself before leaning closer to you, eying your screen. The grin on his face is positively roguish. You glare at him. "That's… uh… great! Didn't realize he left Blüdhaven." You attempt to smile, but your strained frown and twitching nose at the idea says otherwise. Jason openly chuckles at your face.

"Yep, he's been around since yesterday…" She pauses, "Is somebody there with you?" Barbara asks tentatively.

You whip your head around to Jason— who is still smirking— already opening his mouth. You frantically cover his mouth with your hand, cutting off any words he was going to say. He attempts to lean out of your hold, glaring at you. You mirror his glare, using your free hand to do the "Shush!" motion at him. Slowly you remove your hand from his mouth, using your middle and index finger to point at him in an "I'm watching you" motion. He huffs, looking away, but not attempting to speak again.

"Nobody is here." You speak into the mic, eying "Nobody." Jason nods his head in acknowledgment at your words, eyes dancing with amusement. "Just me." He huffs, shaking his head disapprovingly.

You don't think before locating your favorite pen, throwing it directly at his forehead. To your surprise, it actually hits the target. You have to withhold your bark of laughter seeing his unimpressed face, the ink left a light streak of black ink across his forehead. Smirking, you turn your gaze back to the screen.

"...Okay?" Babs doesn't sound convinced, but doesn't ask anymore questions. "Well, think you can refocus?"

You break your attention from the screen to look at Jason… Who is not currently where you last saw him.

Alarmed, your eyes scan the cave, trying to find where Jason could've gone. He was just beside you less than five seconds ago! He couldn't have gone that far. Apparently, he's a lot more stealthy than he looks. You can barely hear Babs' voice as you stand up to look around the cave. Finally, you spot him.

The white streak on his forehead starkly contrasts his otherwise dark hair. It makes him easily identifiable even from a distance. Once he notices he's been spotted, he straightens up against his bike— box in hand, when did he even grab it— before getting onto it. He doesn't break eye contact, smirking the entire time. He gives you a wave, and you can observe something in his hand. You can't tell what it is due to the distance though. Nevertheless, your blood pressure rises as he lightly shakes the box.

Barbara says your name, but you don't pay it any mind. Instead you shake your head at Jason, who chuckles under his breath. Neither of you break eye contact as he puts his helmet on. He starts his bike, tapping the box— as if taunting you before revving the bike and zooming off, as if he was never here at all.

Babs says your name again, and you snap your attention back to the screen. "Yeah, sorry. I was distracted, it won't happen again." You inhale as the bike's engine echos grow quieter throughout the cavern.

Babs sighs, "Alright," she sounds less stern, more worried. "Was just trying to say that they put out the fire, all the civilians are safe. Nightwing will likely be returning to the cave with Red Robin and Spoiler." Her words are merely facts, but you can't help but take them as a warning, whether that was her intention or not.

You take a deep breath at her words, your chest nearly shuddering in apprehension. It's been about two months since you've returned to Gotham after leaving for college. Years used to get over your feelings for the first Robin. Two months of not contacting Dick about being back in Gotham. All culminating to the present, your inevitable reunion. You inhale through your teeth, the sound almost like a hiss. You force a smile, despite knowing Babs can't see it.

"Great."

–

Tim glances as Dick as they enter the cave. Dick doesn't look at him, instead narrowing his eyes at the ground. He glances at Steph who seems to sense the tension, but doesn't say anything. She meets his gaze before looking past him towards Dick. Tim follows her gaze, only to already see Dick eying him out of the corner of his eye. Everybody's eyes are awkwardly shifting over one another, the silence only exacerbating the tense atmosphere.

So it's going great.

Dick had quickly realized that Oracle was not who they were talking to, figuring out it was you. He had all but demanded the frequency their comms were on. Tim had reluctantly told him, but (thankfully) you suddenly vanished from the comms. Tim isn't sure what caused the big gap, but when you returned you had just told everyone to "Head back to the cave," not leaving any room for comments.

Anxiously, the three of them enter the cave. Dick looks up to see you in front of the Batcomputer. He draws in a sharp breath at the sight of you. He hasn't seen you for years, and you've been here sitting in the cave. You slowly sip the mug sitting at your desk, gently placing it on the Batman coaster next to your keyboard. Your foot bounces uneasily as you pretend you don't see them in your peripherals.

Dick takes the mask off his face, his eyes trained on you as he approaches. Tim and Steph follow closely behind him. She peeks around Dick's shoulder to see you inconspicuously turning your head to a different monitor. Dick's exhales steadily before he speaks. He says your name.

You pause, your hands frozen on the keys before turning to face him. You note Tim and Steph in the back. Tim looks unsure how to proceed, but Steph doesn't give away her thoughts.

You sigh, you expected this. "Dick." You hesitantly stand, meeting Dick's eyes. The two of you stare at each other for a moment as he hesitantly draws near you. You resist the urge to look away, feeling the shame bubble up. After all, now he knows you're here and that you've been here for at least some time, all without mentioning it to him.

"I–" He tackles you with a hug, cutting you off. The force of his action surprises you, almost knocking you off balance and into the desk. You slowly hug him back, "Sorry, I didn't– uh– say anything." You swallow down your nervousness, looking back at Tim and Steph. Both of them are blatantly watching you. You glare at them as Dick constricts you in his embrace.

"It's okay," he pulls back slightly, but doesn't let go of you. His hands rest on your arm, a soft smile on his face. "I get it."

You chuckle awkwardly, "You… do?" Your eyes flicker between him and Tim. You have a feeling he's got something to do with this.

Dick sneaks a glance back to Tim, who does not meet his gaze. "Uh– Well, I mean– I get that you probably needed time to settle back into Gotham! Stuff must be different now. All that time gone, you know?" Dick frantically explains.

You narrow your eyes to Tim, who avoids your eyes. "Right,"

"Well, we should hang out sometime! Catch up, you know! I mean if you're going to be helping us out we gotta do– like– team bonding activities!"

You blink, "Is that a thing?" You ask Tim and Steph. Steph opens her mouth, but Dick covers her from your view.

"It is now! Come on, it'll be fun!" Dick grins. The rest of you look at each other dubiously. You let Dick pull you along, watching as Tim and Steph attempt to follow you two.

"Shouldn't you guys change first..? Are we uh– doing this now?" You ask, slowly taking your hand back from Dick. He looks down at your hand before letting it leave his grasp.

"Oh," he pauses, suddenly hesitant, "I just figured we could catch up. With you being back and all." He gestures you up and down, as if still stunned that you are actually here.

You nod, glancing at the time which reads 2:02 AM. "It's–" You pause at Dick's hopeful face, "Yeah, sure?" You attempt to smile at him, looking to Tim and Steph for help. "I can't imagine you guys would want to be walking around in full vigilante attire though."

Dick sighs, as if this is a deal-breaker, "Fine…" He looks at you hesitantly. "We'll be back before you know it." You watch as Dick slowly moves away from you, grabbing Tim and Steph as he walks away.

Weird. Maybe he is not that mad that you didn't tell him you were back? The conversation didn't really flow like it used to, but you'd chalk that up to having spent years apart. Perhaps he's right, after a couple conversations everything will go back to normal. Watching his retreating figure, you can't help but smile. He mutters something to them both, leaning down to talk to them. They both point at him, responding in turn.

Getting over him wasn't an easy process. Part of the reason you chose to move so far away was to get over him. Sure it wasn't the only reason, but it was one of many. Time apart would give you time to separate yourself from him. You knew he never liked you back even back then, him dating Kori soon after your departure sure communicated that loud and clear.

If anything, it gave you a sense of peace. It almost felt like you two were stuck in an endless dance around each other for years with no resolution. When he started dating Kori, it ended your torment, proving that you were never an option. You could finally move on. Of course, you still thought about him. You still wondered how he was doing. You had heard that there was a new Robin and that the vigilante "Nightwing" had appeared in Blüdhaven.

When you came back, you figured that things would finally be okay. You wouldn't have to worry about messing up your friendship because of liking him. Your worries were gone. That doesn't mean you weren't surprised about some things, though.

Ever since learning about Dick having dated Barbara previously, you've been waiting for one of the two to mention it to you. You aren't surprised that Dick didn't say anything, seeing as he didn't decide to tell you about Kori. You never met Kori, so you weren't shocked that he never spoke to you about her.

But Babs? You were there when they started getting close, and you had befriended her quickly. Hearing that none of them decided to say anything? That hurt. Not in the heartbreaking lovesick way, but as a friend. Not one person told you, and you had to find out from Tim. Someone you hadn't even met until a couple months ago! Sure, you questioned if they were dating when you were kids, but that's much different than actually hearing that they've not only dated but have broken up. It's not like it's any of your business anyway.

"We have returned!" Dick grins, arms spread grandly as he walks back to you.

A small smile appears on your face, "Joy." You deadpan.

"Don't be like that," he chuckles, rubbing your shoulders casually, "Anyway," he slings that arm around your shoulder, "I asked Alfred if he could make some of his cookies for us." He whispers it to you like it's a secret. "It would've just been just for us, but somebody blackmailed me into sharing." Dick throws a half-hearted glare to Tim, who shrugs.

"Shouldn't have barged into my room." Tim gives a small, knowing smile.

You raise an eyebrow, "Why would you do that?"

Dick eyes look through you as if realizing he messed up, "Yeah, why would you do that?" Tim asks smugly, walking over to you. Steph appears to be messaging somebody on her phone, typing at light speed.

"Cause I found out some very important info about a case." Dick offers a strained smile to Tim.

Tim smiles, "Mhm, a 'case.'"

You blink at the two of them, maneuvering yourself out of Dick's hold. The tension is palpable. There's clearly something there, and if there's something you've learned during your time here, it's that you don't push it. No matter how curious you are.

You move in between them, clasping your hands together, smiling, "So… Cookies?"

—

"You were not invited." Tim's eye twitches as he watches Damian grab a cookie from the platter laid before the four five of you.

"I do not require an invitation to dine at my own residence, Drake." Damian scoffs, taking a bite into the cookie.

"The cookies weren't for you." Tim narrows his eyes at Damian.

Damian raises a dubious eyebrow, "And they were meant for you?"

Tim exhales, affronted, his eyes flicking to you and Dick. Damian smirks, tilting his head up before looking down haughtily at Tim, "That's what I thought." He takes a bite of his cookie, waving it tauntingly back at Tim.

Dick sighs, but the action is more out of fondness than exasperation. "You know, you could've called me if they ever got out of hand. I know they can be a lot to deal with."

You shrug, grabbing a cookie, Alfred's cookies really are the best. "They eventually sort it out on their own…" you take a bite. You smile, turning to watch Damian and Tim bicker. Steph seems to be using it as a distraction to sneak more cookies into a separate container to stow away. "It's actually kinda funny."

Dick snorts, "You say that now." He takes a cookie from the tray. "Babs was telling me that you've been helping out on comms too?"

You nod, a proud smile forming on your face, "Yep, took some convincing, but eventually Bruce said I could help as long as she's there to guide me."

He nods, slowly, "Nice…" He stares down at the cookie, "That's… uh— nice." The wavering in his voice doesn't go unnoticed. You aren't sure if you should ask about it, but you don't have to. "No— I mean, I'm really happy for you…" He attempts to correct himself.

You inhale through your nose, bracing yourself. "But..?"

He swallows, glancing between Tim, Steph, and Damian, who are engrossed in their own conversation, "But… I…" He exhales discreetly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

You blink, "Well, it's a pretty recent development. I would've told you eventually—"

"Would you?" Dick cuts you off, his words are soft, lighter than a whisper despite the heaviness they carry. They're soft in the way his expression conveys his pain: nearly silent, but present.

Cookie forgotten in hand, you place it down onto your plate, turning to Dick. Perhaps he was downplaying how upset he was earlier. "I would have eventually. I just needed…" You inhale, frustrated, and are faced with a new dilemma. Uncertainty churns in your gut, should you tell him you liked him back then?

On one hand, it shouldn't matter anymore. You don't like him like that now. The biggest reason you never told him was to preserve your friendship. There is no risk of losing that now that you no longer hold feelings for him. On the other hand, it's been so long. Like it or not, there's a distance between you two that wasn't previously there. Years apart have widened the gap between you both, something that was once so closely knit. If you tell him now, will that widen it further? Despite the fact that you avoided him, you don't want to lose him as a friend. Will telling him now ruin everything you held so closely to your chest for years?

"It's complicated," you turn your head away, unable to look him in the eyes.

Dick's pained expression steels itself at your words, "I…" he looks down at the plate in front of him, "I understand."

You sneak a small glance at him, "It wasn't personal…" You blatantly lie.

He smiles, the action strained, but still a smile nonetheless. "I know." His words hold something knowing to them. "I can't imagine how different everything must've been after being gone for so long." His smile turns more genuine, but his eyes are gazing far off.

You reluctantly smile at him, "It was definitely something. There's so many of you now." You pick the cookie back up, taking a bite.

Dick snorts softly, "Sometimes I miss when it was just us." His eyes rest upon Tim, holding a cookie out reach from Damian.

You smirk at him, "'Sometimes?' Not all times?" You lean into the back of your chair, this is more familiar. The banter, the teasing quips shared with one another.

Dick mirrors your smirk, it feels more drained than usual, "All times." He jokes.

You nod approvingly, "That's what I thought."

He looks down at your hands, absentmindedly holding the cookie. "You are going to finish that, right?"

You glare playfully at him, holding the cookie out of his view. "Why? You want it or something?"

"No." Dick lies, grinning as he conspicuously eyes it in your hand.

You take a bite of it, not breaking eye contact. "I've already eaten half of it."

Dick shrugs, huffing, "Like that will stop me."

"It's got cooties." You tut, waving the half-eaten cookie up at his face tauntingly.

He glares at you, "It was one time."

"Cooties last forever—" you take another bite of the cookie, "It's mine." You grin at him. He narrows his eyes, his gaze flitting to the cookie, then back to you. With no warning, he hand snatches the remaining chunk of your cookie. You can't move fast enough to reclaim it before he devours it.

Your mouth parts slightly in surprise. For a second you're struck wondering if you've ever shared food with him like that. All you can do is blink as he smugly takes a few stray crumbs from your plate. In the past you might've shared snacks, but nothing that the other had already eaten. You were close, but Dick had one time (jokingly, he insisted) told you that you had "cooties." Cooties! Like you were in preschool. For about a month afterwards, you avoided sharing snacks with him under the pretense that they had "cooties." He was amused at first, but your stubbornness eventually got to him.

"I can't believe you." You scoff. Even if you wanted another cookie, you couldn't get one. During your conversation, somehow the table had cleared the entire platter.

"Believe me." His eyes crinkle in amusement, the grin on his face growing even wider.

"I'm starting to remember why I left." You meet his gaze with an unimpressed stare. He gasps so loudly that he catches Tim's attention, who looks curious, yet unsurprised by Dick's antics. Dick doesn't pay him any mind though, merely continuing to give you an exaggeratedly anguished expression.

"After all we've been through? You wound me." He gestures dramatically, and you roll your eyes at him unsympathetically.

"Shouldn't have taken my cookie." You sigh, matching his tone. "It pains me just as much— actually… more to do this."

"Are you cutting me off over a cookie?" Dick narrows his eyes, playful irritation in his eyes.

You wipe an imaginary tear from your eyes, "I'm sure you understand… It must be done." You respond gravely.

"Must you continue with these dramatics?" Damian cuts in, the two of you turning to face him. You offhandedly notice Tim smiling in faint amusement, and Steph seems to be engrossed in your antics as if watching a telenovela play out in front of her.

"We must." Dick nods solemnly. You snicker from beside him.

"Hey, don't judge us. I've seen the way you guys fight over these cookies." You point to your empty plate, leaning against the table.

Steph whistles lowly, "She's got a point." Damian eyes her judgmentally. You gesture your hands grandly around the table, nodding in a silent "I told you so." 

"Besides, you two were fighting like ten seconds ago." You turn, pointing between Damian and Tim.

Damian's eye twitches, "That's because Drake believes that he has jurisdiction in my residence."

Tim looks away as if avoiding eye contact with Damian will make this better, his eyebrow betrays his irritation. "This isn't about—"

Seeing that this isn't going to lead anywhere good (and that you were proven right). You make a point to loudly interrupt. "I'm going to head home for the night. It's already late as it is." You resist the urge to rub your eyes. The argument pauses as the attention is brought to you once more.

Damian frowns, and Dick looks contemplative, pursing his lips. "You sure?" Tim breaks the momentary silence.

"Positive. I want to sleep on my own bed." You nod, smiling. Now that you've mentioned it, you can feel the exhaustion seep into every cell of your body.

Dick frowns, standing up from beside you. "I can drive you back."

You turn toward him, "It's alright. You guys were out all night. I wouldn't want to force you to go out again. Plus, worse case scenario, I call Cass or Bruce or… something." Last you checked, they're still out for the night, and you feel pretty safe knowing that either one would come to your aid if needed.Dick clearly disapproves of the idea, his mouth turned down in a stilted frown, eyebrows furrowed. You heart stings a little by his lack of faith, even if you know it comes from a good place. "I'll be fine."

You and Dick stare at each other for a long moment. For months you've managed to ease your way back into Gotham's atmosphere. You know this city, even if you were absent for a few years. Dick challenging you won't change anything. You may not be Nightwing, but you've lived in this city. You know how to handle yourself relatively well.

Dick sighs, the tension dropping from his shoulders, "Okay, just… be safe."

Your pointed stare breaks into something softer, "Always."

—

When you left, you almost worried you jinxed yourself, that by saying you're "always safe," you'd somehow get kidnapped by Bane or something.

Luckily, you were true to your word (not that you ever doubted it). You even texted Dick a quick notice that you'd arrived home, something he appreciated. You didn't give too much thought before liking his message. Soon after, he sent a quick text asking if you wanted to catch up soon without any intrusions.

You snort at the text. The two of you never really cared back then if Babs tagged along when you hung out or something. You can't imagine that'd be something he cares about now, especially since you've heard how close he is with his family. Perhaps it's because it's been so long? It has been a while since you've gotten to catch up with him. You can see why he wouldn't want his entire family witnessing every moment between you two. Tapping the sides of your phone absentmindedly, you type out a response, confirming that you'd like that.

Dick likes the message, and then proceeds to wish you good night. You smile at the text, before sending the same and finally turning away from the screen. Working on comms is fun until it's one in the morning and all you feel is the sensation of your eyes burning due to the strain of blue light.

Getting into bed, you throw the covers over your body. After a long day, you can finally rest. Of course, you sure didn't feel rested when you woke up the next day. It's a wonder how anybody you know functions like a normal being when they're essentially up from sunrise to sunrise.

Slowly, you get ready for the day, and just as you're about to leave, you pause. You're missing something. Sluggish from the early morning, you carefully pat yourself down as you search every pocket of your clothes. Once you realize what's missing, you groan, heading back inside your room. You rifle through your jacket from last night, finding nothing. Standing up from your now messy floor, you narrow your eyes at the scattered articles of clothing as if it'll provide the answer.

Okay, where did you last see it? You were working at the Batcomputer last night… You had been taking notes.. Then Jason had come, and you threw—

You take a deep breath. That asshole took your favorite pen.

—

Cass analyzes your form as you get into position, her arms crossed and stance lax. She's been the one helping you the most with learning self defense. "You're sulking, makes you tense. It's bleeding into your posture." She maneuvers her way behind you, her touch lightly grazing your shoulders, forcing you to relax them.

You raise yourself out of position. "I'm not 'sulking.' That's a bit extreme. I'm just off my game."

Cass raises a dubious eyebrow, looking you up and down.

"Okay, I'm a little upset." You relent.

She blinks at you, unconvinced.

"It's not that bad." You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"Was it Dick?" She tilts her head at you.

A chuckle escapes past your lips, you smile at her assumption. "Actually, no."

She walks over next to you, expectantly, and your arms lower from their position. You exhale letting your arms relax, "Doesn't change the fact that you're upset." She frowns at you.

You look down to the floor, avoiding eye contact, "It's stupid."

She shakes her head, "If it makes you upset, then it can't be."

A smile grows on your face, "No… No, this one is prettyyy stupid."

She mirrors your smile, "Try me."

You look up at her, opening your mouth, but then closing it. "You know… How about we get back to training?" You're not going to complain about a stupid pen to any member of the Wayne family. Even if that pen had the smoothest ink you've ever seen, and had the perfect shade, and had the perfect angle, and you carried it with you everywhere you went, and had been given to you by Dick when you had just started being friends, and—

"You lost something." Cass determines.

You sigh, "I'm really not joking when I say it's stupid."

"Something that had sentimental value." She frowns. "That's not stupid."

"I…" You couldn't really argue with that one, even if the object was a damn ballpoint pen. It's not like you could ever get a replacement! A couple years after you had met Dick, you had attempted to find that pen again, but it was quite literally nowhere to be found. You had even gone so far as to ask him where he got it, and when you searched it up on their website, it didn't exist. Dick had found it amusing, but suddenly that pen became a lot more valuable to you. Not just for sentimentality, but because it was a really good pen, and you'd never be able to buy another.

Cass waits patiently for an answer, and you know she won't judge you. However, currently, you are judging yourself. Imagine being out on the field and the reason you aren't performing to standards is "I lost my favorite pen." Might as well say bye-bye to that comm position you just got cause Bruce will be testing you for brain damage. You inhale, "I lost my favorite pen."

Cass doesn't react, as if that is a perfectly normal response. "Lost?"

You purse your lips before smacking them, "Lost." She stares at you for a long moment, and— of course— you crack under no pressure, "Okay, maybe it was taken."

Cass' lips twitch in amusement, "You know who?"

You think back to Jason, waving what was once an indistinct object, an object which you now know was your pen. "Regrettably." You deadpan.

She smiles, "Then what's stopping you?"

"Can't exactly contact the guy, not like he offered his business number before taking it." You crack your knuckles, sighing as you fiddle with the gauze around the joints.

She looks at the Batcomputer, your gaze tracking her movement and following it. She eyes you from the corner of her eye as if saying "You sure?"

Snapping your fingers, "You… make an excellent point." You tap your temple, smirking as the two of you make your way to the Batcomputer. Powering it on, you navigate it until you find Red Hood's tracker.

"You think he would be able to receive a message from me? Wouldn't he need his comm or something?" You frown, crossing a leg over the other as you ponder your next move.

"Most likely. Try sending a message to his phone instead." Cass suggests, and you nod, a smirk growing on your face.

You pull up an emulator embedded with the computer. It already has everybody's numbers saved, so you click his contact and start typing. Simple. Straight to the point. No possibility for your message to be misinterpreted. Professional in every sense of the word. Concise, yet thought provoking. An argument so convincing that Batman himself would have to cede victory to you. A message so moving that he would be riddled with guilt for even thinking to steal your prized possession—

Pls give it back :(

Cass' eyes shine with mirth, her lips twitching. The two of you stare at the screen, as if your combined concentration will invoke his response. You tap your finger apprehensively against the cold metal of the desk.

Red Hood: ???

Red Hood: What?

You know what you did.

Red Hood: So accusing

You can almost see him mockingly shake his head. He probably has the damn smirk on his face too.

Red Hood: Do you even know what I did, or are you just trying to get me to confess to a crime I didn't commit?

Come on, I literally gave you your not-bomb bomb back

Red Hood: yeah after pretending not to know what I was talking about for 15 minutes, great service, truly

exactly, so return what you took from me

Red Hood: get it yourself

I don't even know where you live

Red Hood: you're literally tracking my stuff

I'm literally not??

yeah that's why I can hear you muttering to yourself from my comm that you definitely aren't tracking

You gasp, turning to Cass whose face betrays nothing. You scramble to turn off your mic, horror-struck. After fiddling with the input devices connected to the computer, you eventually find— to your embarrassment— that your mic isn't even connected.

Red Hood: bet you just checked didn't you

no

Red Hood: admit you did it and I will consider returning your pen to you

Your heart pounds as you hastily type your confession.

ok ok I did

You pause for a moment, waiting for a response. When nothing appears you send another message

can I have it back now

Red Hood: I said I'd consider

Next time you leave something behind I'm gonna send you a video of me destroying it

Red Hood: wow okay, you aren't getting this pen back

wait I'm sorry please don't go

Hooooood

I'm sorry I would never destroy your stuff, it's very precious to me

pls respond

Jason Todd you asshole I will never forget this

Read 3:54 P.M.

Your eyes narrow at the screen, the status taunting you. Why can't he just cooperate? Your hands hover over the keyboard, debating whether or not to send him a message. You look to Cass in exasperation. "That went as well as I was expecting." You mumble. Groaning, you shut off the computer, not even wanting to see the screen.

She gives a reassuring smile, "At least you know where it is."

"I figured he had it, the worry was that he'd just taunt me with it." Crossing your arms, you stare into your reflection in the now black screen. "Seems I was right."

She pats your back sympathetically, "You'll get it back eventually."

Your hum in acknowledgement, still staring at the darkened screen. "You're right." You narrow your eyes at your reflection, a plan starting to form.

—

The night wasn't quiet, it rarely was. In fact, Jason has learned that Gotham being quiet never bodes well. Silence invites catastrophe. Sure, a lack of silence meant there was work to be done, but it was familiar. He didn't have to wonder if there was some plot affront (there often was, but at least it's more predictable). What wasn't predictable, however, was Nightwing joining him for the night.

"Remind me why you're here again?" Jason doesn't bother turning to face his brother, brushing his hands against his jacket as he holsters his pistols. He kicks the head of a thug attempting to crawl towards the gun at Jason's feet. Don't bring a gun to a fight if the first thing you're going to do is lose it. Fucking moron.

Dick grins, flourishing his escrima sticks, "'Cause drugs are bad?"

Despite himself, Jason's lips twitch under the helmet, not like he'd let Dick know that. "Aside from that."

Dick secures his escrima sticks to his back, "It's been a while since it's been just us."

Jason grunts, checking the time before walking out of the busted warehouse. "So… you decided that teaming up with me to take down a drug spot was what? Bonding?"

Dick chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender, "Your words, not mine."

Jason sighs, heading towards his bike.

"Any other warehouses to bust? Drug dealers to…" Dick trails off as mimics a lazy punch doing a silent "Pow!" sound effect.

Jason slowly turns to Dick, who is still following him. "It's nearly six in the morning."

Dick shrugs, "Okay…?" He crosses his arms, "That doesn't really change my question."

"I'm heading home." Jason rolls his eyes in exasperation.

"Got it…" Dick doesn't move from his spot.

Jason looks at his brother, revving his bike, "Do you… need something?"

Dick shakes his head, slowly heading to his own bike. "No…"

Jason groans, he's not going to fall for it. This is manipulation. This is a way for Dick way to monopolize his morning. He will not—

"Breakfast at mine, be there in half an hour or else I'm eating your portion." Jason speeds off, not even bothering to check Dick's reaction. If luck is on his side, he will not be seeing Dick at his apartment in half an hour (he knows luck isn't on his side).

He opens the door, already anticipating his older brother to be in there. Shockingly, he isn't, and Jason slides his leather jacket off, throwing it onto the couch carelessly. His apartment was, thankfully, clean. The only thing out of place was a single ballpoint pen on his living room table. Unwittingly, he smiles at the object, thinking back to your messages over it.

He had taken the pen thoughtlessly. You had thrown it at him, so he thought it fair to take it as punishment. After all, it's a pen. Nothing out of the ordinary. However, nothing could've prepared him for what spiraled.

The text he received from you— hell, he thought he was being pranked by some idiot who thinks that messing with him is a good idea. However after staring at the message for a minute he realizes. He hadn't stolen anything recently, certainly nothing from anybody who would send a text message with a sad face.

Upon realizing it was you, he had felt something akin to amusement rise in his chest. He texted back, staring down at his phone, finding himself awaiting your response. The amusement in his chest eventually rose to his face, a small smile at your outrage. He found himself even seeking the object upon your request that you return it. Of course, out of principle, now he had to keep the pen. He found himself chuckling as he pocketed his phone, leaving you to spam notifications to get his attention.

Jason stares at the pen for a long moment, before heading over to the kitchen and grabbing a pan. He greases it with butter before grabbing some eggs from the fridge. He looks at the window, shedding the morning light upon his sink. The sight of it almost makes him feel sleepy, the lack of sleep catching up to him after being out all night. The soft sizzling from the eggs frying the sole sound in his apartment. It's almost peaceful, contrary to the eventful night he had.

Then Dick throws his door open. Jason doesn't even bother turning around, knowing it's Dick just by the way he opened the door.

"Didn't come to greet your guest?" Dick takes off his shoes, tossing his own jacket on top of Jason's on the couch.

Jason breaks his focus from the eggs briefly to look at Dick. "Could you at least hang your jacket or somethin'?" He asks, the tiredness present in each word he speaks. Dick glances at his jacket before turning back to Jason, an amused eyebrow raised. He gestures his thumb to Jason's jacket, a silent question. Jason finally turns to face him, "My mess is fine in my apartment. You could at least be a good guest and be considerate." Jason takes the eggs off the pan, moving them to a plate.

Dick makes a point to deliberately stare at Jason— who is not even looking at him— as he hangs his jacket up, "Satisfied?" A mocking smile on his face.

"Thrilled." Jason deadpans, putting bacon on the pan.

Dick chuckles behind him, walking around the apartment, taking note of some swords and knives on display. He walks over to investigate Jason's bookshelves, filled with classics, he smiles at them. It's not often that Jason actually invites anybody to his apartment. Most of the time, they have to break in if they need something from him. His smile widens slightly as he turns to Jason, whose back is turned toward him, cooking silently. Then he turns his attention to the couch and table in front of the TV. He tilts his head as he approaches it, noticing a random pen laying on the otherwise clean apartment.

He freezes, an audible inhale as he stares disbelievingly at the table. "What's this?" The words are deceptively light, Dick grabs the pen, examining every ridge of the object.

Jason pauses for a moment, turning to face Dick. He narrows his eyes slightly at the way Dick holds the object. "What?" Jason chuckles humorlessly, noticing the way Dick's hand clenches around the pen. "The pen?"

Dick swallows, not even looking at him. Jason straightens up, realizing that something is wrong. "Where did you get it?" Dick asks, the question is quiet, yet its gravity is all-present. The words grind out roughly as they are spoken. His hands tremble underneath the small object, as if it's too much to bear upon his fingertips. Jason's mouth parts in surprise, the words not forming as he watches Dick bite his lip.

"Where?" The words scrape his throat as he snaps his head to Jason. However, his eyes are still trained on the ballpoint pen, as if asking the pen itself.

"I…" Jason hesitantly walks to Dick, the pan forgotten. He isn't sure whether to approach Dick. "The cave."

Dick narrows his eyes, scoffing "So you took it." He whispers.

Jason immediately opens his mouth to correct the misunderstanding, eyes narrowing in indignation. "No…" He scoffs, unable to meet Dick's gaze. "I mean—" he huffs, frustrated the words aren't coming out the way he wants to. He says your name, and Dick freezes at it. "She—"

"She gave it to you." Dick interrupts him.

Jason, frowning, tilts his head, not making eye contact. "I guess you could say that."

Dick stares at Jason for a moment before walking back to the front door. He snatches his jacket off the hanger, roughly putting it on. He forces his shoes onto his feet, not even bothering to unlace and tie them. Grabbing the doorknob, he twists it, causing it to squeak.

Jason furrows his eyebrows, "You're not… staying?" It was unlike Dick to actually ditch any of his siblings.

Dick pauses his body already half past the doorframe. He turns his head to the side, allowing Jason to see his profile. Dick slowly steps back inside, placing the pen on the table near the entrance. "I… I don't feel hungry anymore." He doesn't even give Jason the chance to respond, not bothering to even look at him before slamming the door.

Jason blinks slowly at his closed door before turning his attention to the pen that Dick almost lost his shit over. He thinks back to your text. You didn't seem that upset over losing the pen. Sure, you had asked for it back, and had expressed immense interest at its return.

But not a single one of your messages implied you were that distraught. If anything, they seemed almost playful, with a small twinge of genuine desire to have the pen returned. Jason slowly walks over to grab it, attempting to find anything special with it. If he knew it'd cause this many issues, he would've left the damn thing. Sighing, he walks back over to the table it was originally on. Perhaps he should return it. He didn't mean to take a sentimental object from you. He runs his fingers across the pen, before scrunching his nose in disgust. It smells like something is burning—

His eyes widen. Shit, he forgot about the bacon.

–

"Honestly, just break into his apartment. You said you already know where he keeps whatever you're looking for." Tim shrugs, attempting to keep a straight face. "Just do a little research on the computer before you break in." He waves a hand nonchalantly.

You nod, typing furiously on your phone as if taking notes. "Got it… Would you recommend door or window?"

Tim's eyebrows raise, wow, you are taking him seriously? "Window, most people don't lock them."

You frown, eyebrows furrowing, "I don't think this guy is constituted as 'most people.'"

Tim mirrors your frown, sitting up straighter. Who exactly are you going after? "Okay… Do you mind if I ask who 'this guy' is?"

You fidget in your chair slightly, kicking one leg up over your other, "Uh…" You look around to make sure nobody is listening, "You won't judge?"

Tim snorts, "No, I won't." Actually, before he was just mildly interested. It'd be your first B&E (closer to burglary, but really, same difference, you seemed pretty justified based on what Tim heard). However, it seems that you don't aim low because if you are this nervous about it, it must be serious.

You smack your lips, "It's Jason." Your words are quiet, but they echo throughout the cave. Tim can't hold back the stunned expression he makes, eyes wide and eyebrows so far up they almost disappear behind his hair.

"I know, I know. Trust me, I know it's bad, but–"

"Wait, wait, wait, since when did you meet him?" Tim suddenly cuts you off, his palms pressed against one another, hands covering his mouth. His eyes are focused on you.

"I–" You pause, momentarily thrown off track. "What?"

"You met Jason." Tim states, and you nod slowly. This is not what you pictured from this conversation. You imagined something more along the lines of: "Why would you steal from my brother?"

"Yeah?" You blink, "Was I not supposed to…?" You ask hesitantly. You didn't think meeting him was that big of a deal.

Tim shakes his head, looking down. "I was just surprised." He snaps his head up to you, startling you slightly, "Does Dick know?"

You stare blankly at Tim, "Why… would he?"

Tim nods slowly, pursing his lips. "Taking that as a no." 

You nod, amused, "Yeah, no."

He hums in acknowledgement, shaking his head subtly, "Anyway, you said that you wanted to break into Jason's?"

"Yeah, I know he's kinda your brother and all," you hold your hands up in a placating gesture, "but he took something that was mine."

Tim snorts, laughing at your cautious approach, "I'd help you even if he didn't have something of yours. What'd he take anyway?"

You open your mouth, then close it. "The details aren't important, what matters is that he betrayed my trust."

Tim smirks at you, "Alright then, keep your secrets." He pauses slightly before speaking, "How'd he betray your trust?"

Rolling your eyes, you groan, "Don't get me started."

Tim blinks, "That bad?"

"It's just that I was nice to him, then did multiple favors for him– all without being asked!" You emphasize, your eyes crinkled in barely masked indignation. "I did all of that, and when I ask him to return the one thing he stole, he leaves me on read!"

Tim snorts, "Oh, yeah that's pretty common."

"Yeah, I was messaging on the computer, and like I asked for him to return it, and– Tim, I swear– he was taunting me. Oh, and he got satisfaction out of it." You aren't even looking at Tim anymore. Your chair moves slightly under your flailing gestures.

Tim nods seriously, "Sounds about right." He isn't even looking at you, his eyes frozen on the floor in contemplation. "Tonight, he should be out on patrol. I can try and guide you."

You whip your head back towards him, "Really?" You grin.

He nods, amused, his eyes telling you that he's plotting something. "Of course, all you needed to say was 'break into Jason's,'" and I was sold."

You grin, "Great!" You check the time, "Oh– I have to go, but if you get any info could you send it over?"

He offers you a casual thumbs up, "Yeah, of course. I'll hear from you tonight?"

You nod enthusiastically, "Yep! Thanks, Tim!" You head out of Tim's room, closing the door behind you. Tim waits for a moment, listening for the manor's entrance doors to close before he gets up and makes his way down to the cave. Now, this may be considered an invasion of privacy, but you gave him permission to guide you through this operation.

So naturally, like a true detective, he has to learn all the facts.

Tim scans around the Batcave. Nobody is around right now. The perfect opportunity to learn more. It's convenient that evidence is located on the computer. Tim easily navigates the familiar system, pulling up the emulator. For the future, he would tell you that it's important to delete the trail of messages left behind unless absolutely necessary, but for now…

Tim scrolls to the top of the chat, it wasn't very long, but it was long enough. You said that Jason had taken something from you, but you hadn't elaborated on what. Tim wasn't that nosy, but he probably should know considering he's dedicating his night to helping you retrieve said item.

"Why are you texting Todd like that?"

Tim heaves a sigh, turning around in the swivel chair to see Damian looking at the monitor. "Hello to you too."

"It doesn't match your style."

"Astute observation. 'Cause it isn't." Tim tries to ignore Damian as he turns back towards the screen, hoping that if he makes it sound boring then he'll be left alone.

Damian's lips twitch slightly in a frown, "Then whose?"

"Apparently the last person who texted Jason." Tim attempts to focus on the texts, but he can see Damian also reading them next to him. "Hey, can you not?"

Damian narrows his eyes at Tim, "They aren't even your messages."

"Exactly, give them some privacy." Tim attempts to shove Damian out of the way, but he merely positions himself on the other side of Tim's chair, undeterred.

"As if you reading their messages is 'privacy.'" Damian raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Tim.

Tim attempts to swat him, but it's less forceful than the (attempted) shove. The action is more of an afterthought; his eyes are still trained on the messages. However, it's becoming increasingly difficult to read them with somebody pestering him. "I'll have you know I got permission."

"So you do know who sent it." Damian states. He reads a couple of the messages before saying your name, Tim glances at him for a moment, but doesn't confirm or deny his guess. "It is her. My second guess was Steph, but she uses more emojis."

Tim sighs, "Sure,"

Damian glares at him, but quiets down as he reads the messages next to Tim silently, the two of them attempting to decipher their meaning. It's not long before they reach the end, after all, there weren't that many. "She gave him a bomb?" Damian asks, incredulously.

Tim rolls his eyes, wiggling his finger, "Nuh-uh, it says 'not-bomb,' see?" He points his finger to the screen.

Damian scoffs, "I can see that." He leans in to reread some of the messages, "Did she only message him for a pen?"

Tim shrugs, "Must be a nice pen."

Damian points at the last line, "She calls him by his full name too." He notices.

Tim nods, "I mean she's mad at him, I can see it. Plus, you still call me by my last name, you don't get to comment on that."

Damian shakes his head, but Tim swears he rolls his eyes. "She doesn't do that with us though."

Tim thinks back to it, you haven't really gotten mad at anybody in his family (from what he knows). If you have though, he has no recollection of you ever dropping full names onto one of his siblings. Honestly, this would have to be something he'd need to ask Dick about. He has known you much longer. "Hm," Tim frowns, scrolling back to the top of the messages.

Damian smirks, "I'm right, aren't I?"

"I wouldn't go that far, but–" he turns to Damian, "I suppose it's worth keeping note of."

Damian scoffs, "You just don't want to admit I'm right." He walks away from the computer, leaving Tim alone in the cave.

Tim narrows his eyes at the messages. The tone, the style of messaging, Jason even replied quickly.

There is something else there.

–

Tossing on a dark hoodie, you exhale nervously. "Okay, how about a hoodie?" You ask Tim, throwing the hood over your face. You look over to your phone, still on a call with him.

"Well… Definitely matches the breaking and entering aesthetic."

You snort, "So is that a no on the hoodie?"

Tim exhales, "You'll probably be fine." He says dismissively.

You raise an eyebrow, "Probably?"

Tim clicks his tongue, "You're the one who thinks breaking into his apartment is a good idea."

"Yeah, and you're helping me. Don't act like you aren't involved." You point your finger at the phone, despite the fact that you aren't on a video call.

"It's more of a passive involvement." You can hear him roll his eyes.

"Involvement nonetheless." You smile.

"All I'm saying is that if you get murked by Jason 'cause he mistakes you for being some random intruder, it is not on me." Tim says helpfully.

"Thanks for the optimism—" You're cut off by a loud honk outside your apartment.

"I'm assuming that's you." You grab your phone and hurriedly put your shoes on before running down the stairs of your apartment building.

"Let's hope your assumption is correct." Tim responds ominously.

"You really aren't making me feel better about this." You exhale warm air into your hands— it's freezing.

Tim laughs as you knock on his window. He slowly rolls it down, "Uber for one B&E?"

You groan, "If I knew you'd make a big deal about this I would've just done it on my own."

Tim unlocks the door as you shove yourself into the passenger seat, teeth chattering. "Sure you could've, but your chances of success exponentially increase when you get help." He looks you up and down, "Do you… want the AC?"

You toss him a half-hearted glare, "Obviously. I'm sweating in here." You hold your hands together to conserve warmth. Tim doesn't break eye contact as he turns the AC on. You stare at him in disbelief at his sheer audacity. He smiles back innocently.

"Alright, yeah, sure, whatever, can we just go please?" You groan.

Tim chuckles, "Of course, of course." He starts the car and pulls out of the parking spot.

"So, what's the run down?" You bounce your leg as you debate burrowing yourself into your hoodie. You find yourself respecting the Bats a lot more. You could not imagine fighting crime in weather like this.

"What?" Tim stays focused on the road.

You turn toward Tim unimpressed, "Like, what should I keep on the look out for?"

"Oh," he pauses, a smirk growing on his face, "yeah don't worry about that."

You frown, eyebrows furrowing in concern, "I feel like that response in itself is something to be worried about."

Tim spares you a quick glance, eyes alight with mischief, "Let's just say, I came prepared."

You sink into your seat, "Great, so you're just gonna send me in blind."

Tim shakes his head, "No, I'll be there with you— well, in the car. You'll be fine. You're stressing a bit too much."

You narrow your eyes towards him, offended, "Oh, I'm sorry that I'm stressed about breaking into your vigilante brother's apartment despite having no prior experience in any crime whatsoever."

Tim purses his lips, "…You'll be fine." He repeats.

"You know that is no more reassuring than the last fifty times you've said it." You cross your arms, staring out the window.

Tim exhales, amused. "Fine, if it makes you feel better, I should have earbuds in the glove compartment we could use for comms."

You open the glove compartment to find a couple old earbud pieces with the Wayne Enterprises logo plastered on the case. "They still work?"

Tim shrugs, "Should."

You sigh, "Alright, then we'll be on comms. You better not ditch me."

Tim rolls his eyes, a smile on his face, "I'm not that mean."

The rest of the ride is silent. Despite Tim's multitude of reassurances, you did not— in fact— feel better doing this than you did earlier that day. Part of you thought it was just something you'd talk about doing, but would never actually do in practice.

However, Tim seemed very eager to get in on this… heist? Whatever it was. You honestly didn't think he'd care, but apparently you and Jason knowing each other was news.

Thinking back to the conversation, you wonder why Tim cared if Dick knew. It's not like Dick has to know everything going on in your life. So what? You met his family, big whoop. That doesn't explain why would Tim care that you had met Jason.

You tap your finger on the window sill of the car.

Unless…

You think back to Jason's messages. The way that Duke looked at the two of you during your initial meeting. The shock on Tim's face. Suddenly, you sit up, catching Tim's attention, does he think that—

"Okay, we're here." Tim parks the car at the curb across the street from Jason's apartment, (you scouted it out with Google Earth earlier this morning). You open your mouth to ask Tim what he really thinks about this whole scenario, but the question dies in your throat. Instead, you nod resolutely, and pop an earbud into your ear, using the hood to cover it.

"You look sketchy as hell." Tim eyes you dubiously, an amused— almost concerned smile on his face.

You glare at him, elbowing him, "You approved it. Said it was— what was it? 'B&E aesthetic?'" You gesture to your lackluster appearance.

Tim scoffs, "I'm just saying. You just look like somebody who I'd avoid on the street."

Your eye twitches, "Thank you, Tim."

He waves a hand at you, "Yeah, yeah, go head inside." You exit the car, fiddling with the earbud to make sure it stays in your ear. "Oh— take this too." Tim throws a small kit to you.

Not wanting to drop the item, you fumble with it in the air for a brief second before reading the packaging. A lock picking kit.

Your eyes widen as you read it. You rest your arm on the open car door as you turn the kit around for him to read. "You serious?"

He shrugs, "Steph said you had gotten some experience in."

"She taught me once on a random afternoon."

Tim snaps, "Perfect time to make sure your skills are up to date."

You groan, pocketing it into your hoodie, creating an odd rectangular shape against your stomach. Flattering— no, but at least you aren't walking into the apartment practically screaming "Don't mind me, just gonna break into this apartment right here!"

"I'll have your back, don't worry. All you need to worry about is opening that door."

"Thought you said the window was a better option?'

Tim winces, sucking in air, "Ohh, yeah… Don't do that." He shakes his head.

You sigh, shutting the car door. Hearing Tim's muffled "Good luck!" You take a deep breath before making your way into the building and up to his apartment. The trek isn't very long, but you are positively sweating by the time you reach his door. Even if you know Jason won't actually do anything to you if he does stumble onto you lock picking his apartment, it's not exactly something you want to happen. You check the hallway, making sure nobody is around, before opening the kit. Sighing, you get to work.

Tim wasn't lying when he said that you got some experience in lock picking. However you also weren't lying when you said it was a single afternoon. You wouldn't even trust yourself to break into your own apartment if needed, let alone Jason's.

"You almost done there?" Tim's voice causes you to jolt, cursing under your breath.

Clenching your teeth, you attempt to pull on the doorknob, another failure. "Nope."

Tim hums, "Well, he should be out on patrol for at least the next few hours. No rush."

You huff, not saying anything. Instead you focus back to the lock. Inserting the pin, you attempt to listen for the soft clicks of the mechanisms.

Click.

You smile, thank goodness you still remember. Now you just need to do that a few more times. Gently, you maneuver the pick until you can feel the pins. You move the pin until you hear the sound again. You exhale shakily, a smile plastered on your face. While you may not live this kind of life, you are certainly feeling the adrenaline of it.

"One more." You whisper to Tim. He doesn't respond, but you don't expect him to.

Your hands are clammy at this point, sliding against the rusted metal of the doorknob. While it does make your life a bit more difficult, it definitely doesn't stop you. The pick attempts to slide out of your grasp, but you hold onto it so tightly that your hands start to shake.

You press your ear close to the doorknob, pushing the pick further in. You can hear the last pin shift with your movements, it's just a matter of getting the right angle. Eventually, you feel your pick latch onto it.

Click.

You don't celebrate too soon, slowly moving your hand up to the doorknob (somewhere along the way you had sat on the floor to focus better). The door creaks open. "Tim— Oh my— I did it." You stand up in celebration, pick forgotten on the floor.

"Congrats," he slowly claps in the background, and despite the mocking nature of it, you can't help but feel accomplished (even if that accomplishment is successfully breaking into a Jason's apartment). "Don't forget why you're actually there, though."

Snapping out of it, you grin, "Right… Right." Hesitantly, you entire his apartment. The first thing you note is that it is not any warmer than the outside world.

The second thing you notice is that it is impeccably clean. You're not saying you thought Jason would have a messy apartment… but it's clean. Almost unlived in. Perhaps he was expecting a guest?

Your shoes softly patter as you enter the apartment. It's so clean you almost feel bad for leaving your shoes on. You withhold a snort at the thought, expert robber here, need me to take off my shoes before entering?

It's dark inside, the lights of the city funnel through the window just above the sink. You attempt to look for a light switch, eventually turning on the lamp near the entrance.

Now, if you were Red Hood, where would you hide a pen?

"Have you found it yet?" Tim asks.

"I just got inside." You make your way over to the kitchen. Looking to the counter, it's not as clean as the rest of the apartment. You run your finger over it, looking down at the crumbs at your fingertips. It's brittle, blackened, almost burnt. Hesitantly you raise your finger up to your nose to smell it. Bacon? You slowly walk to the sink, flicking the remaining crumbs off your hand.

Making sure your hands are clean, you walk out of the kitchen into the living room. What immediately catches your attention is a bookshelf filled with classics. You walk over to it, curiously running your finger over the spines of the books. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, the list goes on.

You continue to admire the collection before pausing, finger rested on the spine of The Great Gatsby, your eyebrows furrow in disbelief. Did he seriously..?

Gently, you remove his copy of it off the shelf, opening the book to look at the bookmark used.

Smiling, you chuckle as you remove the small index card.

Red Hood Jason Todd, If you're reading this then I was right in assuming that you'd return for your bat-gadget thing. I'm not gonna say I told you so, but… :). Anyway, I hope you enjoy your sealed package. (Notice how I highlighted "sealed"). Thank me later.

Your chest jumps slightly as you reread the message, signed off with your full name. You had written it just for funny 'Gotcha!' moment, not expecting him to keep it. You flip the paper around, it's a standard index card, nothing special besides a few stupid doodles you did to make it stand out.

It's not creased... Not folded, smudged, or damaged. It's in perfect condition.

A fond smile finds its way onto your face. Silently, with all too much care, you place the index card back to the page, closing the book. You slide it carefully back into place, leaving no trace of your interference.

Your eyes fall to the table in front of the couch, and your smile widens. You lean down to grab the pen, giving it a look once over. Yep, it's definitely the pen Dick gave you. Your grip around it tightens, and you look to the front door.

"Okay, object secured." You whisper.

"Great— Oh, shit, get out now." You hear Tim shift in his car seat.

"Tim?" You frown, immediately on alert.

"He is not supposed to be back at his apartment." Tim mutters, and you swiftly make your way to the front door. You open it, and immediately walk into something… someone.

You move your gaze from the floor up to the helmet of Red Hood. Damn it, Tim.

"Hey, you outta there yet? I don't have eyes on him anymore—" You tap the earbud once, muting Tim, not breaking eye contact with Red Hood.

"Heyyy," You smile casually, leaning against the doorframe, acting like it's your apartment.

Red Hood looks you up and down, sketchy outfit and all. "Hey,"

"I didn't expect to see you here." You attempt to inconspicuously slip the pen into the pocket of your hoodie.

"Could say the same about you." He responds, tilting his head. "Could you… move out of the way?"

You blink, looking at his empty apartment, then back to him. "Go ahead… It's your apartment." You slowly move out of the way, opening the door for him.

Red Hood steps into his apartment, "Really?" he mutters, his shoulder bumping into you as he walks in. You roll your shoulder, glaring slightly at him. "Didn't know that."

"Your sarcasm is noted." Rolling your eyes, you watch him head into a hallway, presumably to his room. He doesn't say anything else. You can feel your phone vibrating with notifications (probably Tim), and realize that if you're planning to leave, now is the perfect chance.

You're about to walk out when you pause, "You… You aren't upset?"

Red Hood— Jason walks back out, helmet off, but domino still on. "I'm not surprised."

You frown, "That's… not what I asked."

His eyes narrow, "I'm not surprised." He repeats.

You smack your lips, turning to face him, the door still open. "For the record, you stole my pen. "

Jason snorts, "Yeah, and you can have it back. I ain't gonna deal with whatever emotional attachments you and Dick have to it."

You straighten up, moving away from the door to move back into the apartment, "He saw it?"

"If you're planning on staying, at least close the door, please." Jason moves over to the fridge. His calm detachment of the situation leaves you taken aback.

"I'm not planning on staying." You scoff, moving further away from the door, back into his apartment.

Jason turns to face you, and you raise an eyebrow at him. He sighs, walking over to you. You inhale in preparation for…

He shuts the door behind you. You blink at the action. "I was gonna leave, you know."

"Mhm, yeah, I'll believe it when you actually step through the doorframe." Jason moves over to the couch, practically throwing all his weight onto it. You hesitate, unsure how to proceed. It'd just be plain awkward to leave now.

Shifting on your feet, you open your mouth to speak when he cuts you off. "Dick came earlier today." Jason doesn't turn to face.

You slowly move over to lean your arms onto the back of the couch, next to where his head rests. "Sounds exciting."

He exhales, a small smile at his face, then it vanishes as quickly as it came. "Y'know in the past I've always tried to encourage him to leave whenever he decides visiting is appropriate."

You hum in acknowledgement, but don't say anything.

"Then he saw the—" he gestures lazily at you, "—the damn pen." He slowly removes the domino from his face.

You watch as he slowly removes the mask, his eyes wincing as he forcefully pulls it off his face. "I could've told you it was a bad idea to take it." You smile.

He huffs, "I wish you did." He tosses the domino onto the table.

You nudge his shoulder softly, "I practically did."

He turns to face you, no mask obscuring your view of his features, "No, you just called me an asshole."

You lean your body onto the back of the couch, glaring at him, "'Cause you were being one. You left me on read, after I kindly returned your stuff."

He groans, "Can we just let it go? I fucked up."

"I dunno, I'm currently in your apartment. Will you let me go?" You tap your finger on the back cushions. "You shut the door on me when I was about to leave."

Jason's posture straightens up meeting you at eye level. "Maybe." He whispers, his voice gruff, but a softness is present within it. "As long as you tell Tim to fuck off." He smirks at you.

You swallow, matching his smirk, attempting to appear unfazed. "How'd you know he was involved?"

Jason leans away from you, and you straighten up. He isn't facing you anymore. "I didn't."

Shit, sorry Tim.

You purse your lips, slowly nodding. "Oh," you whisper dumbly.

Jason chuckles, turning back to you, his eyes almost smiling with amusement despite his otherwise neutral expression. "He was the one who disabled all the security measures I had in place. I figured he was with you."

You exhale slowly, "Right…" You meet his gaze, "Sorry… About the whole breaking in thing." You smile sheepishly.

He shrugs dismissively, "Figured it was you anyway."

You raise an eyebrow, "You figured I'd spend my night trying to steal back a pen?"

His lips turn upward, "Well, you're here, aren't ya?"

You offer a small smile, "Hm, guess you're right about that."

You stare off at the table in silence, neither of you speaking for a long minute. "You know, I wasn't joking about telling Tim to fuck off." He tilts his head to look at you, and instinctively you lean closer.

You snort, "You're funny."

"Funnier than Dick?"

You smile, not giving him an answer, "You'll let me go if I text him?"

He nods, not taking his eyes off of you. "If you want."

You raise an eyebrow, "'If I want?'" You repeat unbelievingly. "What's the alternative?" You chuckle, "Like— I could stay 'if I want?'" You ask.

Jason tosses you a disinterested look, "Just tell him to leave my shit alone." He replies, not answering the question.

You smile, "Want me to word it like that?"

"Word it however you want. Just get the point across." He shrugs.

You pull out your phone— which is still vibrating with texts he's been sending. "You know it isn't his fault." You frown, feeling defensive of Tim. Sure he intentions may have been made out of nosiness rather than genuine goodwill, but he still helped you nonetheless.

"He knew what he was doing, tell him to fuck off." Jason shrugs his leather jacket off, you watch him before turning away.

Leaning on the couch, back facing Jason, you type out a response. "How does: 'Hood says to fuck off' sound?"

"Perfect. Send it." Jason takes his boots off. You are momentarily struck by how… relaxed he is. You send the message.

"Alright, message delivered." You smile at Jason, looking at your phone as the read receipt pops up milliseconds after you sent the text. "…And read."

Jason nods, not bothering to actually look at you as he takes off his gear. "Wonderful."

Your phone vibrates, you frown, raising it up for Jason to see, "Now he's calling me." Jason holds his hand out expectantly, his other hand still working with a strap on his boot. Hesitantly you place your phone in his hand, "You aren't gonna steal this too, right?" You smirk, his hand brushing your own as you place it into his palm.

He raises an eyebrow, not breaking eye contact as he answers the phone, putting it on speaker.

"—you can't leave me with that. Is he letting you leave?"

Jason huffs, "Christ, I ain't holding her hostage."

"Funny, I don't exactly see her though." Tim responds.

"I'm alright, Tim. You can head home for the night," you look at Jason for a moment, and he raises an eyebrow, "thanks though."

Tim pauses, incredulously. "The hell did you tell her?" The question isn't directed at you.

"Just had a quick chat. I said she can sta—" You cover Jason's mouth (oddly reminiscent of a prior instance). You don't want to fan the flames of Tim's curiosity.

"He's giving me the pen back. I'll fill you in tomorrow."

"Wait, 'chat?' What about?" Tim suddenly switches topics.

"Goodnight, Tim." You smile wryly. Tim says your name, as Jason hangs up the phone, you frown. "You didn't have to hang up on him."

"He wouldn't've shut up if I didn't." Jason offers the phone back to you. You grab it, pocketing it into the pouch of your hoodie. You tilt your head, a silent nod. He isn't exactly wrong, but Tim has been helpful.

"So…" You attempt to shift topic, moving over towards the bookshelf from earlier. "You like to read?"

Jason leans back casually, "No, I just put them on display."

You frown, the bookmarked book said otherwise. "Rightttt," You drawl out. You pick up the copy of The Great Gatsby, thumbing the pages until you reach the index card. Jason watches you, not saying anything, eying the way you pick up the index card.

"Really?" You wiggle the paper towards him, but even you are a bit careful. After all, if it's in this good condition, you'd like to preserve it.

Jason gives you a small smile, "I needed a bookmark."

"So you used my message?" You raise an eyebrow at the index card.

He shrugs, "It was conveniently located. It's worked pretty well so far. Thanks for that."

You place it back, shelving the book. "Yeah. Let me know if you need another."

Jason nods sagely, "Back-ups would be nice."

You chuckle, "You wish." You slowly move your way around his apartment. You feel his eyes follow you as you move around. "Is it just you here?"

Jason nods, "Yeah," his words quiet, but you hear them clearly.

You walk around the kitchen island, "You like it like that?" You circle around it, heading back over to him. "Just you?"

His eyes flicker up to you, his gaze unreadable. "I manage." He looks down, rubbing his knee.

You look down at him before hesitantly settling down on the opposite side of the couch from him. Well, "opposite" is generous. You refrain from getting close enough to touch him, but he is sprawled out so vastly that you're forced into an awkward position.

You look over to him, "You gonna let me on the couch or what?"

His lips twitch, eyes alight in amusement as he turns to face you. In an attempt to give him some semblance of personal space, you press yourself against the back of the couch, clearing up what little space you had. He kicks his legs up, laying his feet upon your lap, and all you can do is stare at him, aghast.

You scrunch your nose up, glaring at him. "Dude, you stink." You attempt to shove his legs off of you, unsure how to proceed.

He doesn't make it very easy, forcing you to exert some effort in tossing his legs off you. "You're the one who sat down."

"You treat all guests like this?" You glare at him, attempting to distance yourself from him, disgusted.

He holds his hands up in surrender, now fully laying down on the couch. His neck is propped up on the armrest, arms crossed, and legs glued to your lap. "You aren't a guest. You broke into my apartment." He stares at the ceiling, a smile on his face.

You finally shove his feet off of you, "Okay, but you said I could stay. That sounds like a promotion from 'trespasser' to 'guest.'" You sit up on the edge of the cushion, ready to stand at any further attempts of trapping you he has in mind.

"Ah," he raises a single finger up, waving it at you condescendingly, "you said that you could stay, not me."

You meet his smug expression with an unimpressed one. "Alright," you sigh, standing up. He startles slightly, sitting up to watch you head to the door.

"Where're you going?" He asks, and you find yourself almost charmed by his stupefaction.

"Home?" You toss on your hood off your back, ready to brave the freezing weather.

Jason places his elbow onto the back of the couch, eyebrow raised, "It's one in the morning."

You open the door, a blast of cold wind whipping past you. "Glad you know how to read a clock."

"You even have a ride?" Jason asks, looking you up and down.

You chuckle, shutting the door slightly, but not closing it. "You won't believe this, but Red Hood actually told my ride to 'fuck off.'" You do air quotes.

Jason relaxes his head against his propped up hand, "Crazy," he deadpans. "So what, you just gonna walk home?"

You pause, thinking about it. Technically you could. You've walked further in the past. Sure it's Gotham, but perhaps you can convince Jason to lend you a bat or something (ha, get it?). Honestly, thinking back to the drive, it'd probably be like a thirty minute walk you could—

"Tell me you aren't actually considering it." Jason sits up straighter, now ready to stand up.

You stand there, frowning, "I mean you proposed it."

"I was joking," he rubs his temples before standing up. "I'll take you home."

"You don't have to do that…" You open the door wider, ready to leave. Jason, as if sensing your idea, moves past you to shut the door, locking it.

"I know." He looks at you before heading back to the couch. You shift on your feet as he puts his boots back on, when he finishes he grabs his leather jacket. He's about to put it on when he stops, he looks you up and down (again).

"What— Oh my—" You're cut off by his leather jacket smacking you in the face.

"How can you and Tim plan to break into my apartment and forget to wear proper clothing for the weather?" Jason doesn't even spare you a glance, heading to his room down the hall. He returns seconds later with another leather jacket and two motorcycle helmets, giving you an odd look. "You gonna put it on or freeze?"

Slowly, you place the leather jacket down onto the couch "You don't need to give me your jacket. It's a quick drive anyway."

Jason grabs the jacket and attempts to give it to you again, "It doesn't matter if it's a quick drive, it's cold and we're taking my bike."

You open your mouth, but he raises his eyebrows as if challenging your next words. You don't break eye contact as he slowly puts the leather jacket back into your arms. "Guess you make a good point." You mutter softly. Jason huffs, muttering something under his breath. You aren't sure what he says, but you feel bad for taking so long since Jason patiently waits for you to finish putting the jacket on before opening the door once again. "Thanks, Jason." You look at the ground as you speak, before turning your gaze up to his. His mouth is parted slightly in surprise before settling into something more quiet. His eyes squint slightly, and you furrow your eyebrows at his expression. He's openly smiling now. "What's so funny?"

He blinks, and the moment that felt almost too personal vanished. His countenance settles into something more familiar. He lightly taps your shoulder, "Jacket on hoodie combo. Quite the fashion statement you got there." He uses his arm to push you out of the apartment. Not forceful, but enough to get you moving. "Watch your step."

You stumble out of his apartment, "I'll have you know this outfit had Tim's approval."

Jason barks out a sharp laugh, "That was your first mistake."

You chuckle softly, your warm breath visible in the air. Jason walks past you, heading down to the parking lot as you follow behind him. "Where do you live anyway?" He hops onto his bike. You tell him your address as he checks his phone, plugging in the location. He looks from his phone up to you, "Well?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Well, what?"

"You gonna get on?" He asks, head tilted slightly. He runs a hand through his hair, and your eyes follow the action. He smirks softly as you clear your throat.

"Right, I was just…" You had never been on a motorcycle before. Jason watches as you slowly make your way onto the seat, your arms settled onto your legs. He eyes you out of the corner of his eye. Just as you finally get accustomed to it, he shoves a helmet into your lap. You smile, giving him a quiet "Thanks."

"Dick never give you a ride on his bike?" He shifts his body around slightly, looking down at your hands stiffly placed on your thighs. His arm adjusts slightly, raising to almost grab your own, but he stops. "Quick warning," he eyes your hand before looking up to you, "you're gonna wanna hold on."

You nod, not trusting yourself to respond as he revs the bike. Wincing at the sound, you slowly wrap your arms around his torso, causing him to stiffen up. "Sorry!" You wince, voice competing with the bike. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable. Despite stealing your pen, you don't think he is a bad person. You already feel awful making the guy drive you home after you broke into his apartment.

He clears his throat, the sound is low, you barely catch it, "'s fine," he mutters softly, "ready? Just follow my lead." You nod against his back, finding yourself thankful he insisted you wear the jacket. He starts up his bike, and you give his torso a tight squeeze in anticipation as he moves out.

The ride is quiet, but quiet isn't necessarily bad. As the minutes pass, you begin to feel yourself relax. It also helps that as it progresses, so does Jason. You can't see his expression, covered by the helmet, but for some reason you can't help but find yourself wondering. You look down at your hands wrapped around him, then back at him, concentrated on the road ahead. You'd never met Jason before before his time as Red Hood. Unlike Dick, you never witnessed his time as Robin. Would things be different if you did?

You lean slightly into him unthinkingly. If he notices it, he doesn't say anything. You attempt to catch his eye, but he doesn't spare you a glance. You look at his hands, clenched around the handlebars, turning your focus to his mirrors. Coincidentally, he also looks in his mirrors, catching you observing him. You look away. He pulls up to a stop light, "You alright?" He asks, turning his head to face you slightly.

You swallow, nodding. "Yeah, I'm good." He nods in acknowledgment , the light turning green.

It's not long before he pulls up to your apartment. "This it?" He asks, turning towards you.

"Mhm," you hum, turning towards your apartment. "Thanks, Jason Todd." You remove the helmet, the cold air attacking you once more.

He removes his helmet too, revealing the tired, yet mirthful glint in his eyes. "Of course," he says your full name. You can't hold back the smile at it. The first time he said it in the cave it sounded like he was stating facts. Like you were something to be cataloged.

Now? The way he says it… It's quiet, personal. It was a small joke that spiraled out of proportion. You can imagine somebody might be offended by such an impersonal gesture. However, neither of you appear upset at how you address one another. In the past the tone was teasing, but it doesn't feel that way anymore.

It's between you two, and only you two. Natural in a way that can't be replicated with anybody else. Even with Dick, somebody you kind of grew up with, saying his name never felt so… personal. Sure he'd call you pet names, but you had learned long ago that's just how Dick rolled. Maybe that's why you feel your heart stutter as Jason says just your name, no last name attached. Your eyes snapped to him. It's a step past teasing… almost intimate. It's not the "sweethearts" Dick would throw at you relentlessly. It's simply… you.

"What?" You snap out of your head, still caught by the whole name thing. Frowning, Jason looks at you expectantly.

"Geez, did you get any sleep before coming to my place? Don't fall asleep here, you're almost home." He rests his helmet onto his lap, still looking at you.

Chuckling, you shake your head, "No, sorry, I'm just…" You pause, "Thanks for the ride." You give the helmet back to him.

"No need to make a big deal out of it." His diverts his gaze from you to the helmet, brushing off imaginary dust.

You smile, "Still, thanks." You aren't sure when to look away from him. Is this goodbye? Should you say bye? No… it feels too formal. Goodnight? Is that too casual? Maybe you should just—

"Need me to walk you up?" He asks, his gaze unreadable.

Your eyes widen dramatically, "No! Uh— Not that I don't want you too. I mean, it's just right there. I'll be fine. Thank you," you swallow, "thanks… though."

Jason's unreadable gaze turns into something almost fond. "Of course," he turns away, as if aware you're over-analyzing his face, shielding himself from any further examination. "Text me when you get home, 'kay?" The eye facing you flickers to your body, but he doesn't turn to face you. His attempt at casual indifference makes you smile internally.

"Mm, two things, one: I am already home," you gesture to the building. "Two: I don't have your number." He blinks at you, eyebrows furrowing as if trying to reason through something. It's kind of funny, you can actually see him think on his face, wondering how you texted him to begin with, before realizing it was on the Batcomputer.

"Well," he holds his hand out, "perhaps we should change that." You feel your heart begin to race, placing your phone onto his hands. He immediately types in his contact info before holding it back towards you. You take it back, looking at the screen.

Jason Todd

You raise an eyebrow at him, "Insistent, huh? Wanna add your middle name too?" You tease. Jason huffs, a small puff of air visible in the cold Gotham atmosphere. He snatches your phone back, typing something on it, and handing it back.

Jason

Face heating up in spite of the cold weather, you chuckle softly. You can't help your heart's increase in tempo. It's so stupid, it's literally just his damn name. Removing his last name doesn't mean anything, but your heart sings at the gesture. "Prettyy sure removing your last name is kinda the opposite of what I asked." You wave your phone at him.

He scoffs, but you can see the smile on his face. "Goodnight," he says your name, and only your name. "Text me once you make it inside your apartment."

You nod, your smile widening at his concern, "Goodnight, Jason."

Slowly, you walk away from him, expecting him to leave as soon as you turn your back. He doesn't. He watches as you make your way inside the building. You offer him a small wave before entering. He nods, putting his helmet back on, and driving off. With a grin on your face that should not be there at 2:14 AM, you make your way to your apartment.

Now, of course, after all of that, you couldn't sleep. You hadn't even taken a shower yet. Instead, you laid on the floor, on your phone. You had texted Jason once you made it inside, a quick message. He had liked it a couple minutes after you sent it, making you wonder if he liked it while driving.

As you sat on the floor, doomscrolling, you couldn't help but feel… kinda pathetic. I mean this is basically how you acted with Dick back when you were kids. You refuse to regress to the "idiot in love with (former) Robin" phase. It's not like you even love him. You scoff. Not doing that again. With that thought fueling you, you take your time doing your night routine. You remove your jacket— wait.

You look down at the leather jacket laid comfortably over your torso being used as a makeshift blanket.

God, he's going to think you did it on purpose after stealing your pen. You groan, carefully taking the jacket and hanging it up at the front of your closet. Guess you'll need to return that. 

Ignoring your (accidental) theft, by the time you've finished your routine it's just past 2:30, and you nestle yourself into your warm bed, ready to let sleep capture you. Then, just as you make sure your phone is charging, you get a notification. Usually you wouldn't care, but its sharp ring signaled it to be text. Curious, you check your phone to see who is messaging you at this time.

Jason

You want to know something crazy? I think somebody just stole my jacket.

Delivered 2:34 AM

Immediately, you sit up as if your phone shocked you. You rub your eyes as you check the day. Saturday.

You feel your stomach do so many somersaults that it'd make Dick proud.

You had honestly forgotten the throwaway comment you had made all those days ago. 2:34 AM on a Saturday. You had picked such an inconvenient time on purpose. It was meant to discourage him, not enable him.

Apparently, Jason never forgot it.

Unplugging your phone, you pull it close to you, the light illuminating your face as you reach to answer it. Laughing quietly to yourself, your legs kick underneath the sheets as you open the message. Perhaps you are relapsing to your "in love with a (former) Robin" phase. You roll onto your back, phone casting light down your face.

However, the thought isn't as filled with dread as it once was.

—

Dick flips onto a rooftop, allowing his body to crouch as he absorbs the impact of the fall. Robin is sitting on the ledge of the building, and Dick slowly approaches him. "You know, you aren't supposed to be patrolling alone." He looks down at Robin, sitting himself next to him.

"I am not alone. You are present." Damian narrows his eyes up at Dick.

Dick sighs, "That's not—" he shakes his head, "Just head back for the night. You have school tomorrow. It's late." He places a casual hand on Damian's shoulder. Damian doesn't react to the touch, merely rolling his eyes at his brother's words.

"Did you come here solely to remind me of my curfew?" Damian stands up, crossing his arms indignantly.

"Well, you were just staring at a bank. I'd say sleeping seems more productive." Dick shrugs, smiling up at Damian from his spot on the roof.

"Not if the tip Red Robin provided holds any truth." Damian turns his focus from Dick back to the bank.

"What did I provide?" Red Robin looks down at them from the building on their left. Dick and Damian turn to look up at him as he makes his way down.

"Apparently nothing of use." Damian steps down from the ledge, walking away from Dick and Tim.

Tim opens his mouth before turning to Dick, "I… I wasn't joking. I don't remember what I provided."

Dick shrugs, "Kid insisted you had given him a tip that something would happen at the bank."

Tim blinks, "That's not very specific… There's a whole lot of banks that get robbed…" He trails off as Damian glares at him. "It doesn't matter." He waves a hand dismissively at him. "Why're you still here anyway?" He turns to Dick.

Dick frowns, "You telling me to leave?"

Tim frantically shakes his head, "No! Just curious, we figured that just… After the case, you'd go back to Blüdhaven."

Dick smirks at Tim, "Yuh-huh." He places a hand on his chest gravely. "Don't worry Red," he places his free hand onto Tim's shoulder, "message received." Tim lightly swats his hand off his shoulder, making a small huff in amusement. "Can't I just spend time with my you guys?"

"You know nobody actually believes that's why you're still here, right?" Tim crosses his arms, unimpressed.

Dick raises his eyebrow, "And… Why is that?" He looks between Damian and Tim who appear to have cornered him. This is starting to feel like a trap.

Damian says your name, "I have been informed of your past companionship with her."

Dick inhales, slowly turning to Tim. "What'd you tell him?" His tone is exhausted.

Tim flinches, taken aback, "Why do you assume I told him?"

"'Cause I told you everything about it!" Dick narrows his eyes at him.

"Okay," Tim holds his hands up in mock surrender, "doesn't mean I told him though." He mutters.

"Tim." Dick attempts to catch his eye. Damian frowns, a quiet "Codenames" under his breath going unheard.

"I only told him cause he saw the…" he looks at Damian, who returns his look with a stoic stare, "uh… Well, it doesn't really matter anyway."

Dick looks between the two of them in disbelief, "Saw the what? And what do you mean it doesn't matter. I don't want her finding out that I know she liked me."

"And she won't!" Tim reassures him, scratching his neck.

"What'd you see though? Don't avoid the question." He looks between the two. Tim obstinately refuses to make eye contact, making him look towards Damian. "Well?"

"Messages." Damian relents after a short staring contest. Dick's blood runs cold.

"Robin—"

"He was going to find out eventually!" Damian hisses quietly to Tim.

Dick looks at Tim, eyes sharp. "What messages?"

Tim purses his lips, waving a hand at Dick, "Basically nothing. Don't worry about it really—"

"If it isn't something to worry about, then you won't mind telling me." Dick moves over to Tim, desperate for answers.

Tim frowns, narrowing his eyes. He looks at Dick, then to Damian just behind him. Sighing, he swallows. "She was just talking to Jason on the Batcomputer."

Dick's eyebrows shoot up, exhaling with a disbelieving smile on his face. "Oh.. Okay? Why," he exhales unevenly, shaking his head, "why would that be something to hide from me? I mean— it's not like it's a big deal or anything." He moves away from Tim, heading back to the ledge. "She talks to you guys all the time. Why would Jason be any different?" His hand clenches at his side, willing away the memory of the pen— the pen he had given you— casually laid out for everyone to see in Jason's apartment. "I'd assume it's normal, like— she texts you two all the time, right?" He looks towards Damian and Tim.

Tim pauses for answering, "Uh… Yeah." He looks to Damian who slowly nods. "Yeah, all the time."

Dick nods, the smile on his face turning more genuine rather than the panicked distress he was displaying. "Right, of course," he runs a hand through his hair, "nothing to worry about! Maybe she's just interested in getting to know everyone." He snaps his fingers, pointing to Tim and Damian.

Neither of them say anything.

Damian scoffs, "'Interested.'" He scoffs under his breath, only stopping at Tim's elbow jamming into his side.

Dick picks up on it immediately, "What?" The smile disappears, dread flooding back into his chest, "Did…" He looks between them, eyes focused, "Did she say something?"

Tim shakes his head, mouthing a few silent words, "I… Look, you just said that it was nothing to worry about."

Dick narrows his eyes, "Is this your way of saying I'll have to figure it out myself?"

Tim winces, "That's not what I meant. I'm just saying that…" he rubs his temple, "God, what am I saying?" He whispers to himself.

"What he intends to say is that she's been spending a considerable amount of time with Todd recently." Damian steps forward, narrowing his eyes at Tim.

Dick tilts his head slightly, eyes set on Tim, "Care to elaborate?"

"Look, it's probably nothing." Tim holds his hands up as if placating a wild animal.

Damian huffs, "We both know that isn't true." He mumbles under his breath.

"Yeah, well I don't wanna be that blunt." Tim glares down at Damian.

"No, no," Dick crosses his arms, "be blunt. I want to know what you know."

Damian tosses Tim a smug glance before looking up at Dick with the somber expression possible. "He slept with her."

Tim makes a noise of horror, and Dick stares blankly at his younger brother. "That is poor phrasing!" Tim turns towards Dick, their expressions almost exact opposites. Dick doesn't react to his words. "That's not what happened. She just stayed at his place for a little bit. Nothing like that." Tim whips around to glare at Damian, gesturing for him to stop talking.

Dick feels his heart slow down slightly at Tim's reassurance, but his mind still races. "How do you know?" His words are even, betraying nothing.

"What?" Tim frowns, "Well, Jason kinda just told me to 'fuck off' while she was still there."

Dick looks down to the ground, exhaling slowly. "How does that prove that nothing happened?"

Tim opens his mouth and closes it, "I… Well, it doesn't," at Dick's distraught face he adds "but they didn't." He nods with a certainty that both appeases and concerns Dick. Scoffing, Dick walks away from the ledge and to the back of the rooftop. His hands tighten around the grappling hook in his hand, shooting it to a nearby building. "Nightwing?" Tim asks hesitantly.

"Go home for the night." Dick responds, shooting the grappling hook and letting it carry him to the rooftops of buildings below. He doesn't bother to hear their response.

—

He didn't think about it…

Okay, correction: He tried not to think about it.

He had only just stopped thinking about the pen, when of course the situation got so much worse. He had naively optimistically hoped that perhaps you just left it somewhere, and Jason just happened to need a pen at the cave.

Apparently Tim and Damian decided to crush that illusion he'd built up. It's fine. He didn't spend days thinking about the implications. He did not spend nights staring at the walls wondering if maybe Damian's words had a hint of truth to them. They didn't! There's no way you've known Jason long enough to even consider going that far.

The following days lagged into weeks of concerned curiosity. You betrayed nothing. Jason betrayed even less. If you two were dating, then both of you did an exceptional job of hiding it, considering who your company is.

Then he saw it. A smile on your face, your hand raised to cover it as you laughed at your phone.

"What's so funny?" Dick continues to stretch as if nothing is out of order.

Your eyes linger on the device for a second longer before looking up to him, "Huh? Oh," you pocket the phone as if caught doing something illegal, "don't worry about it. Just a funny video online."

Dick narrows his eyes, looking down at the phone in your pocket as if it would tell him the secrets of the universe. "Right."

"It's uh…" you clear your throat, "cat video." You shrug, turning back towards the Batcomputer.

Dick pauses, "A… cat video."

You nod, "Yeah, mhm. It was really funny." You elaborate.

Dick nods slowly, "Great… Can I see it?"

You freeze, and Dick withholds a smirk. He got you. Shaking your head, you frown. "Sorry… I closed the app. Forgot to like the video." You smile sheepishly. "If I wanted to find it again I'd have to just hope and scroll."

Dick hums, convenient. "I see, that's a shame."

Nodding mournfully, you locate Cass on the computer, "Truly…" You sigh.

He narrows his eyes at you as if compelling you to reveal something, but you merely gave him a thumbs-up before getting on comms with Cass. Maybe there wasn't anything to worry about. Cat videos are funny, so maybe he's just overthinking it—

Then he finally caught you.

It had been after patrol, everybody was exhausted. It was a long night after Crane broke out of Arkham. Most of them went back to the cave. Upon entering, he saw that you were still on the computer checking cameras.

Then Dick saw it. Your phone, left absentmindedly on the far side of the desk, flashing.

On for one second. Dark for a few. Then on again.

The cycle would repeat, and eventually he got curious. You barely seemed to notice that they had all returned, and so he approached the desk. The actual messages weren't able to be read without unlocking the phone, but he didn't need to. His breathing sharpened at what he could read.

Jason

New message

Sent now

Jason

New message

Sent 1m ago

Jason

New message

Sent 2m ago

Dick hesitated to touch the phone, as if touching it would cause the evidence to evaporate into thin air. Slowly he grabbed it, clearing his throat. "Hey, I think somebody is trying to text you."

Your eyes slowly move to him, barely giving him attention. "Huh?" You reply distractedly as you offer most of your attention to the Batcomputer.

Dick waves the phone in his hand, "Jason is trying to contact you…" He looks down at the messages, "Well, he's been trying to contact you. Have you picked up your phone in the last seven hours?" Jason had called you about every couple of hours, each wave increasing the frequency of messages more than the last.

"What?" You frantically snatch your phone from Dick's hold, surprising him as you scroll through the dozens of messages you missed.

After a few seconds, Dick speaks up, "Everything good?"

Your eyes brush over him, "Great! Nothing to worry about."

Dick leans against the desk, "What was he texting you about anyway?" He tries to sound less nosy than he actually is, "Seemed important."

You shake your head, "Nah… No, just case stuff."

"Case stuff." Dick repeats slowly.

You nod, "Case… Yeah, case stuff." You rub your eyes.

"Must be important. Need help with it?" Dick pushes.

You shake your head, getting distracted as your phone vibrates again, "We solved it already." You type out a response, "Thanks, though." You smile disarmingly at Dick.

"Alright," he rubs your shoulder, causing you to wince as he hits a knot. "Just don't overwork yourself, 'kay? Let me know if it becomes too much." He pats it gently before moving away.

Your smile turns more genuine, "Thanks, Dick."

He stays for a moment, taking a deep breath and pursing his lips before walking off. After that day he had confirmed that something was going on between you and Jason.

Then he had reached a month-long stalemate.

He knew that you and Jason were talking, but both of you were surprisingly good at hiding it. The most Dick got was a couple of comments admitting you two had "talked recently." It led him to the conclusion that you must talk everyday because no matter when somebody asked, both of you had always "talked recently."

A small voice in his head told him it wasn't any of his business what you two were talking about. If you both wanted his help with something, you'd have asked. That didn't stop him from investigating though. For weeks upon weeks, he would overanalyze every comment either of you made. He looked for something that implied that there was something bigger going on.

"Yeah, I was talking with somebody, and…"

While you continued to speak, Dick didn't hear the rest. Talking with somebody. Who? Why not just say their name? From what Dick knows, the two of you essentially share the same friend group. Why would you feel the need to deliberately make it vague when you were talking to…

Unless you were talking to Jason.

"—and I told her that I believed that it was impossible. It was…"

Dick narrows his eyes at Jason as he talks on about… Well, he wasn't listening. He said "her." How many "her's" make a prominent appearance in his life? He said it casually enough for Dick to surmise that maybe he didn't make a deal out of it because…

You both were dating.

The realization caused him to tune out the rest of the conversation, responding in half-baked monosyllabic replies. The more he thought about it, the more his head hurt. Why… Why would you not tell him? Did you tell anybody? Is this just how things were between you both now? An ever growing distance that could never be bridged?

Dick's teeth clench as he considered the possibility. Even if that distance persists, did you still think that Dick wouldn't want to know you're dating his brother?

He can't control who you date. He can't do anything about that…

But you could've told him.

Maybe… Maybe he was exaggerating, after all, it is a large jump for Dick to make. Did he have a lot of evidence to back it up? Not really.

Did he believe it anyway? Absolutely.

For weeks, it was just conjecture. Dick already concluded that something was between you both, but he needed something substantial to have it set in stone, before he could truly panic.

Eventually, his patience paid off.

Dinner. Family dinner. Alfred had requested that everybody must show up, and that meant that, despite efforts to not make an appearance, Jason was there.

Oh, and who else was also there? You.

It started off like usual, chaotic, but familiar. Tim had attempted to bring his laptop and hide it in his lap as he ate, but Alfred shut that down quickly. Bruce had asked Duke how school was going, and of course Damian felt it vital for everyone to know that he was excelling in every single one of his classes.

Then Jason appeared. While not common, it wasn't exactly rare. What immediately caught everyone's attention was his seating choice.

Right next to you.

He had pulled the chair out as if nothing was amiss, but Dick had immediately noticed the action. It was not Jason's usual spot. Dick looked over to the spot reserved for Jason, then back to his brother. Jason didn't even notice the glances at the table, instead deciding that you had his full attention.

Dick's fork scratches against the plate as he bites his tongue. Perhaps… Perhaps you had something important to discuss. The rest of his family decides to ignore what is occurring before their very eyes.

You giggled— giggled at something Jason whispers to you. Dick attempts to subtly watch you both, not realizing his mouth is still running through the chewing motion, despite not having any food in it. Jason's arm adjusts slightly. Your body shifts at his movement.

Dick stiffens, freezing in his seat.

Dick can barely see, after all, he is seated across from you both. However, he knows that Jason's hand is resting on your leg. Dick's heart races, he feels his vision swim slightly. He shudders as he takes a deep breath. "When did that become a thing?" He asks, attempting to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Everybody at the table turns to him, quieting down at his question. After a moment, Duke breaks the silence, "What?"

Dick doesn't even look at him, not taking his eyes off of you. Jason shifts, taking his hand off of you as if nothing happened. "What're you talking about?"

"You two." Dick sneers, pointing his fork between you and Jason.

The rest of the table is now openly staring at you and Jason. Dick has to give you both credit, neither of you shrink under the scrutiny of nearly every vigilante in Gotham. "When were you planning on telling everybody?" Dick asks, setting his cutlery down with an echoing "Clang!".

You break first, shifting uncomfortably before Jason steps in, "We were going to say something at the end."

Dick raises an eyebrow, "Were you?" He looks between you both. "Hm, awfully convenient."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You narrow your eyes, frowning.

"Nothing." He almost can't bring himself to look at you. Every time he does, a wave of fury and hurt runs over his body. He forces his gaze from his plate to you. "Congratulations."

Jason narrows his eyes, but you give him a look. The two of you share something. God, you two can read each other by a single look now?

"Thanks, Dick." You offer him a small smile, hesitating as you speak the words, but still with genuine gratitude. Somehow, even when being an asshole, you're still treating him like a good person.

Jason, apparently, doesn't agree to the same restraint you were restricting yourself with. He glares at Dick, not saying a word. Neither of them move, locked into a silent staring contest.

"I called it!" Steph cries out in victory.

"I had already told you." Tim rolls his eyes, offering his brothers an unimpressed look.

The conversation sparked around the table as Dick and Jason continued their staring contest. Neither one of them broke the joyful atmosphere that had emerged.

Then Bruce spoke up.

As if sensing that he was about to speak, Jason shifted his glare from Dick to Bruce. Bruce looked at you and Jason, contemplative. Jason glares harder at Bruce as if daring him to say anything.

Neither of them blink. The table watches in anticipation. Then, Bruce offers a small, tired smile. "You look happier." He nods at Jason's glare.

Jason doesn't relent, "I am."

Bruce slices the steak in front of him, continuing to nod. "Then I can't ask for anything more."

With that, the tension at the table dissipates. You reach for Jason's hand, causing him to turn away from Bruce and look down at your hand clasped in his own. His shoulders fall at your touch. Everybody takes this as the green light to start bombarding you both with questions. You are mainly the one to answer them, but every now and then Jason adds a comment or two. You grin as you recount each story, each meeting. Messages you'd leave for him.

Dick can't bring himself to address this in front of everybody and break your smile. He can't bring himself to listen to the stories. He can't even bring himself to be happy for you. All he can think of is a single question, looping in his head. He distantly notes the migraine he feels as he continues to clench his teeth. His fists shake in his lap at your ringing laughter.

Why is it him?

—

"My brother? Are… Is this some way to get back at me?" Dick attempts to stomp the hurt that threatens to crawl its way out of his chest.

You turn around from your seat at the Batcomputer, "…What?" You blink, looking behind you for other people in the room. You furrow your eyebrows, a bit surprised by his furious onslaught.

You think that dinner, despite the shaky start, was a success. Everybody seemed to accept your new relationship with Jason. Well… almost everybody.

You could tell that Dick had something to say about it at dinner, how could you not? You were worried about his reaction considering you'd known him the longest out of anybody involved in the Wayne family. You had kept your relationship with Jason on the down low until you had both decided you were ready to say something.

Meaning, you couldn't tell Dick, even if you wanted to (and you wanted to). Your biggest fear was that Dick would take offense to the fact that you were dating his own family. However, that fear didn't stop you from getting into a relationship with Jason, so you knew that confrontation was inevitable.

You expected anger. You could even understand if he felt a little betrayed.

However, nothing prepared you for him to confront you when you least expected it. This was planned. He waited for you to be alone in the cave to confront you, part of you is both grateful and hurt at the action. All of this, the confrontation at dinner… It was all planned.

Dick reaches your desk, livid. He doesn't even look at you. "I mean… The audacity—" he sharply barks out a broken laugh.

"—Dick, please—" You stand up, and he glares at you as if the action was a personal offense.

"—to, essentially, break contact with me and then go and date my brother behind my back?!" He snidely laughs, eyes narrowed with sardonic bewilderment. His hands gesture wildly, being thrown all around his head in anger.

Your eyes instantly narrow, "What are you talking about? I didn't break contact with you!" You ignore the unease in your gut at your lie.

His eyes snap to you, pointing a finger to your chest, "Don't lie to me." He grounds out, eyes flashing with betrayal. "You've barely contacted me since you've returned. You didn't want me to know about you and him, yet you two were practically flaunting your relationship. Is this your idea of petty revenge?" You grab his pointed hand, shoving it away from you with a hard glare, but he continues. "I mean, what else could it have been? Did you seriously believe nobody would figure it out? Did you just believe that nobody is in the room with you?" You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off, "Oh, right, I guess you just didn't care who sees. Just as long as I couldn't see. Seems you failed that."

You inhale, feeling the flames of indignation rise in your chest, "And you're offended why?" Your voice shakes with false neutrality, betraying your anger at his accusation.

"God, you two might as well have started making out on the dinner table. I imagine it would've had the same effect." Dick continues, scoffing.

You hold your breath, taken aback by his words. "Oh, I'm sorry." You raise your hands up in mock surrender, "All we did was sit next to each other, hold hands, and talk a little. We weren't even talking loudly, Dick." You stand your ground, narrowing your eyes at Dick as he glares at you. "And I can assure you, we weren't 'flaunting our relationship' to get 'revenge' on you." You scrunch your nose up, wondering where he possibly got the notion of "revenge" from.

Dick scoff, looking away before looking back to you. "Yeah, okay." He sneers.

You raise your eyebrows at him, nose twitching, "That's why you're yelling at me right now?" You rub your temples, sneering back at him. "I mean… Why— Why should us dating— which was not born out of pettiness— be reason for you to come down here and yell at me about— what— family dinner? Get over yourself."

Dick scoffs, "You're dating my brother." He spits as if you insulted his entire bloodline.

You snap your eyes up to him, "Did I need your permission?" Dick opens his mouth to respond, narrowing his eyes at you, but no words come out. Instead, his hands clench around air before he turns around, running a hand through his hair. You scoff, "You seriously came down here to accuse me of petty revenge because I'm dating your brother?"

Dick whips around, "Yes! Can you blame me? I'm your best friend. I figured you would've told me you're dating somebody in my family!"

You raise your eyebrows, "Oh, really?" He doesn't react to your words, "Then how about how you dated Babs? Back then, she was my best friend right next to you, and you dated her." Dick inhales, suddenly looking like the wind was knocked out of him, his eyes unable to meet your own. "Had to find that one out from Tim."

"It's not the same." His voice is a low rasp.

"It is. You just can't stand the situation being reversed." You scoff, settling back into the chair. Dick looks down at the ground beneath your feet. You look up at him through your eyelashes, elbow rested on the armrest for support. Neither of you make eye contact.

He sighs, leaning against the desk, covering his face with hands. "I'm sorry," he groans, words muffled through his fingers. You stare at him for a long moment before standing up again. Grabbing your jacket hanging off the back of the chair, you don't respond to him. Closing your eyes, you exhale. When you open them, you don't make eye contact, instead attempting to storm past him.

He grabs your forearm, causing you to spin around. Your breath hitches in surprise, and he pulls you closer. You flinch at the unexpected contact. "I… Really, I am sorry." He moves closer to you, his gaze flitting across every detail of your face. Freezing, you look him up and down, eyes narrowed.

His eyes land on your lips, and you inhale long and slow. "Dick." You utter his name quietly, but not softly. It's more like a warning. His eyes are locked onto your face, not looking away. Slowly he reaches his hand up, it's cupped, reaching for your face. Shoving him, you refuse to let your breath come out shaky. "What are you doing?"

Dick pauses, his hand still raised halfheartedly. He is looking down at the ground, but slowly his eyes meet yours. His gaze is unreadable, the normal light you've come to associate with him appears snuffed out. His hand moves down robotically, as if he's barely aware of what he's even doing. Hesitant to leave him alone, despite your anger, you slowly lean towards him, "Dick?"

His stare meet yours once more. "I…" You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. Your eyes, though conflicted and piercing, holds a softness to them, paradoxical. A softness he'd grown used to over the years. A softness he craved when you had left all those years ago. An understanding despite it all. The words were in his throat ready to bubble up to the surface, but your single look silenced that. Your eyes are cautious, looking him up and down in concern, but you don't move to get any closer to him.

For a moment, Dick wonders what compelled him to come down to the cave and confront you. Fleeting anger? Jealousy? What right does he have to be jealous? He looks at the taupe leather jacket clutched in your hand, the phone in your other— no doubt filled with messages from Jason, the light in your eyes. The light that he is killing with every second this confrontation drags on for.

He lowers his hand, "I…" love you.

Your eyes narrow at him, ready to bolt at the first sign of escalation.

"I'm sorry." He swallows down any other words he could've said. "For… everything."

Your mouth parts in confusion, pensively looking him up and down. The silence stretches between you both, constricting the atmosphere. Dick's heart speeds up, the beat rushing into his ears creating an internal tempo to his stress. After a long moment, you slowly make your way back to him. You approach him steadily, as if sudden movements will spook him.

At your approach his airways seize, your presence suffocating him. Everything. He wonders if you understand what he meant by that. He's sorry for not saying anything back then. An apology for what could've been, but never was. This argument is one of the many symptoms of his long lack of acknowledgement.

You take a deep breath, slowly raising your hand— an imitation of the action he took earlier. It reaches his face, and the warmth of your hand makes Dick melt into your touch. You brush loose strands of his hair out of his face, but you don't say anything. Dick closes his eyes to savor the moment, his body intuitively leaning closer to yours.

He can feel the slow air of your breath brush past his face, you're so close to him. The slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your hand cups his face into your palms. He can feel the way your thumb slowly caresses his cheek— a slow back and forth motion. He doesn't dare open his eyes, instead, basking in the warmth of your affection. He doesn't see you, but he doesn't need to. He hears your breathing, slow, calm. He smells the perfume you put on earlier that day lingering onto your skin. He feels your skin brush his own with a gentleness that leaves him compromised all for you.

Then it vanishes. A light stroke against the skin beneath his eyes.

His eyes snap open, searching for the sensation of warmth that you left him wanting more of. Your hand has lowered, eyes not meeting his own— steeled down at his chest. When they do meet him, your eyes don't soften like they used to. Your pulse doesn't race at the sight of him anymore. You aren't affected.

"I know," your words are quiet, but there's a finality to them. An understanding. "Your eyes look tired, Dick." You shift, hugging Jason's jacket closer to you. "Get some rest." You whisper, walking past him solemnly.

He turns around to try and catch your eye once more, but you don't. Instead, you resolutely continue to ascend the stairs of the cave before inevitably leaving his view. Dick's eyes remain trained on the place you were last visible, as if his stare will manifest you to come back down. To tell him that it would all be okay. To embrace him with the enthusiasm you once held for him.

You don't.

—

That day, you and Dick reached an understanding. Neither of you explicitly acknowledged what had transpired, but you didn't need to.

You understood that Dick knew about your previous love for him. Dick, despite feeling as you took his heart and dragged it through the mud, understood that your love, that warmth, that adoration now belonged to Jason.

He could never bring himself to tell you that it ran deeper than that. You had assumed that he had been upset because of your distance, about dating his brother without telling him— which he was, but that wasn't the main reason.

He made a decision. Even if it went against what his body was screaming at him to do, what it was desperately pleading with him to reconsider. He made a decision to not tell how you had unknowingly turned the tables. The part of him so desperate for your attention almost admitted it that very night. For weeks after that day— months, he considered just pulling you aside and telling you before his heart burst at the seams.

He didn't. Moreover, he couldn't. After all, while you may not have noticed his longing, somebody else did.

"Jason—"

"I don't care what you were. If you dated, if you were just friends, it doesn't matter." Jason glares down at Dick, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. "You can be her friend. I can't stop that, but you will never be more than that to her." He whispers venomously. His words were hushed, but somehow they rang louder in Dick's ears than any time Jason has yelled in the past.

"Jason." Dick repeats his words matching the volume of their discussion, "I wasn't planning on anything."

Jason scoffs, but doesn't look away from him, "Bullshit." He pushes past Dick, walking to grab his knife, sheathing it. "She doesn't realize what's going on in your head when you look at her." He turns to face Dick, "I do."

Dick doesn't meet his eyes, "And what's that?"

Jason crosses his arms, deceptively relaxed, "You pause when her hand touches you, your breathing halts. When her eyes land on you, your posture straightens."

Dick looks up, "That's not looking—"

"—The way your pupils dilate when your eyes look at her." Jason continues slowly, as if uninterrupted. "You look at her like you love her."

Dick narrows his eyes, continuing to look at Jason, but not saying anything.

"I understand that you two were friends long before we knew each other." Jason begins to walk to Dick. "I can't change that. She values your friendship." He pauses right in front of him. "Do not mistake that for anything else. She's made her choice clear."

Dick's fists clench at his sides, a jealous fury rising in his chest, something Jason immediately takes note of. His eyes narrow at Jason's despite knowing that on some level he is right. However, all rationality is thrown out the window at Jason's taunt. He already won, and is still goading him.

"Choice?" He sneers. "She loved me first." His mind wars with his heart at the admission. Whether he should've said it or not, the words were out. Any sensible idea for him to concede to Jason, to admit that he had lost what he now desires is cast aside.

Jason's eyes don't flicker with the anger Dick expects. There's no rage swimming in his eyes or painted onto his face. No narrowed eyes glaring at the slight.

It's indifference.

His callousness spurs Dick’s fury more than any wrathful response could. Jason's indifference isn't born out of lack of care, but out of awareness. He knows that he doesn't have to be enraged by Dick's jeer. He knows that when the dust settles— if it has to settle, you will still come back to him, not Dick.

"Perhaps," Jason begins slowly, "perhaps she loved you first." He walks past Dick, opening the door. "But she loves me now." He opens the door, turning to face Dick one more time. "I'm telling you this now as a courtesy. Stop trying to chase after that past. It's over." Jason waits for a response, but after a moment of silence, he slams the door behind him.

Dick doesn't face the door, staring blankly at the living room of his apartment. He attempts to fight the way his eyes burn. He controls the tremble in his arms, forcing his breathing to remain slow— controlled. Gnawing at his lip, he barely notices the skin nearly bleeding under the stress he's putting it under. Heart beginning to race, he stiffens, as if anticipating an attack. His eyes burn, and now he feels furious at the unbidden tears that appear in his eyes, obscuring his vision. He doesn't sob, he doesn't let them fall, he won't let them fall.

She loves me now.

The tears don't fall, Jason is right. You don't love him anymore.

—

He thinks he gets over it.

The process is slow. Slower than it could've possibly have been for you. Seeing you with Jason somehow makes it both easier and harder. On one hand, it's a constant reminder. However, the forced reminder almost becomes… normal at a certain point. The first few months after are rough. He struggled to even make eye contact with Jason, let alone you. He'd make excuses, excuses you knew were bull, but thankfully never called him out on.

The following months pass by slowly, an agonizing passing of time that he can nearly feel each second of. However, it eventually passes and reaches a year. He thinks of that like it's an achievement, but it feels like anything but. A year of lying to yourself? A year of attempting to move on from a mistake he will never take back and will haunt him for the rest of his life? It's nothing to celebrate.

It becomes easier to think about. He and Jason had reached a stilted truce, but fundamentally something had changed about the way they interacted with each other. Everybody noticed, but nobody was brave enough to ask. He wonders if you asked.

He figures you probably would've, and he imagines that Jason wouldn't tell you the full story. Why would he? After their confrontation all that time ago, Jason had ensured that Dick would never confess to you. He doubts Jason would toss that effort aside. Still, he can't help but wonder if you think about what had happened between them.

Whenever you want to spend time with Jason, Dick abstains from any involvement. Whenever you're spending time with Dick, Jason declines. You're not stupid, you probably question it. Hell, you might've already figured it out, and kindly decided to not comment on it.

Another year passes, better than the first, but still slow. Dick wonders if this will be the rest of his life.

Then he hears soft chatter in the cave, stiffening at the meaning of their words. It all comes back to him. For years, the tide had receded, and now it's coming back, crashing down like a tsunami of devastation. However, none of what he feels matters, because it's not about him. It's not about the issues that should've been solved years ago.

When the day comes, he almost wants to go back to sleep and come up with some excuse for not showing up. There are at least a dozen different ways he could miss this: being injured on patrol, waking up late, being indisposed due to a sickness. Yet, he knows he can't.

He gets through the day with an almost cool detachment. Each action he takes to help enact the plan doesn't feel real. The bustling excitement between each member of the family doesn't reach him. He tries to replicate it, not for them, but for you.

The hours pass until it is time, and all he can do is watch. The first thing he notices is that your eyes light up at Jason.

Your eyes shine, a supernova, with all the brilliance of a dying star. Only you weren't dying. You were anything but. Dick realized the aching truth in his heart, something that settled over his entire body and loomed over him— as if it would remain for eternity.

The light in your eyes, it's not just from joy. It's from acknowledgement. Knowing that even after all this time, your affections have been returned. This moment is proof of what you've always wanted. Your light is different from the light you had once shown him. It's something he has never seen, after all he never returned anything back then, did he? Not like Jason.

He wonders how foolish he was to ignore it when he was younger. If he could go back in time, he would rewrite his mistake. He can't even bring himself to think of the consequences. An unstable timeline? A different life? Taking you from his brother?

He would be selfish, oh, so very selfish. He would've kissed you while standing on those steps that led down to the subway where he nearly met his demise. He would've held you so, so, so tight that for a moment he could forget this reality existed. Every time you leaned in, every halted breath, he would rewrite it so that he made the right decision.

He would be so selfish to insist that you needn't meet Jason when you would've returned from college. You would never be introduced to him. The two of you lived separate lives for nearly his entire life. You would never know what you could've been.

You smile at Jason, throwing your arms around him.

He can't though. Even if he wants to rewrite his mistakes— which he so desperately desires— he can't. This is his reality. The reality he helped make, whether he loves it or loathes with every cell in his body. The way your eyes smile with Jason. The way your entire body relaxes with Jason. The way your entire body craves Jason's presence.

Dick's nails dig into his palms, refusing to look up at you both.

The same way your eyes used to smile at him. The same way your body used to relax with him. The same way you used to crave his presence.

You don't spare him a glance. Not even bothering to offer what you had once given freely, readily. Something he had taken for granted.

Perhaps you have cursed him. Doomed him to live with the pain you carried for so long. The anguish he feels— is it comparable to what you felt? Is this how you felt hearing that he had dated Kori and Barbara?

He doesn't know how you did it for so long. How you endured, giving him the pretense of being a supportive friend. He wants to be that. He wants to support you, support Jason. 

God, Jason.

Nothing describes his feelings other than conflicting. He wants to be able to take you into his arms like he once did as Robin, like he once did as your closest friend.

But he can't.

He'd be taking away the best person to happen in Jason's life. Despite what his every fiber of his being urges him to do…

Jason deserves somebody like you.

Jason deserves to have somebody who will unconditionally love him. He deserves to have somebody who will tend to his wounds, somebody to talk to, somebody who will look at him and accept him as the person he is today.

A companion, a friend, but also everything but.

Friendship isn't a word that describes the soft whispers you and Jason share when you think nobody is watching.

Friendship doesn't describe how you tightly hold his hand in your own, nor does it describe the way he squeezes your hand in gratitude.

Friendship doesn't describe the soft touches you've shared, or the way Dick has seen his hands roam over your figure. Not scandalous, but grounding. A way to say "I will always be here. I won't leave you." It wouldn't describe the pure adoration in your eyes, something that Jason's reflects. It would simply never describe the way that Jason looks at you.

The answer digs Dick's heart up out of the grave he thought he buried it into, as if to remind him what he already knew. What he has known for years.

Love.

You love Jason.

Jason loves you.

No matter how much Dick regrets not loving you back, or how much he wishes he could go back to fix his mistakes. He can't. Perhaps there are millions, billions, of universes where you fall in love. Perhaps in some of them, it works out.

He has to wonder.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTears stream down your face.

Why wasn't this one of them?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤA soft gasp escapes your mouth.

Is this really it?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYou cover your mouth in disbelief.

Is this his punishment?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYou nod, your voice a soft but irrefutable "Yes."

His lip trembles, attempting to hide his tears.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFinally, you face him, your own face tear-stricken.

He meets your gaze, his vision blurry, shaky.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYour smile nearly blinds him as you raise your hand.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤHe looks to see the jewel resting upon your finger.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤDick mirrors your smile, tears cascading down his face.