#righting a wrong

For obvious reasons that won't be true tonight, not this early, and so Dick isn't surprised when Jason heads to the second bedroom as soon as they arrive at his apartment. He is quick to grab a pair of clothes and doesn't look at Dick once he leaves the bedroom to enter the bathroom. He doesn't slam the door, but the click of the lock may as well have echoed just as loudly if he had. He usually joins Jason for a post-patrol shower, but that's definitely not happening tonight.

Dick sighs, turning to look out the window to see Robin on the fire escape, slipping in through the window the same way he had only a few minutes before. He, too, is silent, fuming at the injustice of having his name stolen by someone he perceives to be an interloper. Never mind that Dick already told him that he was the one to give it to Jason. He's young and doesn't understand yet, but he will; Dick will make sure of it.

Robin stares at Dick intently, searching for an explanation on his face that he won't find. He looks devastated, or rather betrayed. Dick can understand his position, seeing as he was once in it, but it's been years since then. Jason was more than worthy of the Robin mantle, even if he didn't know the weight of it. His mother would have loved Jason if she had known him. He can perfectly imagine how quickly she would have been endeared to him, the same way Dick was.

It hurts to think of her, but it is an old hurt, one he has learned to live with. The Robin before him still feels the absence of her presence like a barely scabbed-over wound, freshly opened due to the revelation that his future self abandoned the namesake given to him.

My Robin, his mother would call him, but what she really meant was my beloved.

To hear someone else with that epithet feels like betrayal because, before anything else, Dick will always be Robin. What he wants to tell his younger self is that he still is, even with his new identity as Nightwing. Robin will always belong to Dick, and that remains true.

He understands Robin's hurts well, but he doesn't understand that to Dick, Jason is beloved. Robin is now an endearment shared between the two of them.

"You're my Robin," Dick sometimes breathes into Jason's mouth.

Jason always responds in kind, heart beating out of his chest, eyes shiny, and cheeks flushed, "And you're mine. My Robin."

He hides his face in Jason's neck each time he says as such, eyes just as shiny for reasons Jason doesn't yet comprehend. Even so, there is a weight to his words, as though he knows how much Robin means to Dick, how Robin isn't simply a name to Dick. He's smart like that, picking up on things left unsaid.

"So, do you have anything I can wear for the night? Assuming I don't get beamed back to my time in the next few hours?" Robin suddenly asks, arms crossed and leaning against the kitchen island.

"Yeah, you can borrow something of mine since you're too big to wear something of Jason's," Dick says, beckoning Robin to follow him to his bedroom. He chooses some plain boxers, a graphic tee, and a pair of sweats that are all a few years old from his drawers, an outfit Jason frequently wears when he's lounging around Dick's apartment.

As he picks up a folded, clean towel from his closet, his ears pick up Jason leaving the bathroom, his near-silent footsteps going on too long for him to be going to his bedroom. He hears the fridge open, and a flame starts.

"The bathroom's open now," Dick says, and Robin nods, keeping his head down as he does so.

Dick creeps behind Jason, hooking his chin on the boy's head and wrapping his arms around his waist. Jason doesn't fight the hold, leaning back into Dick with a soft sigh, as he prepares warm milk the way Mary Grayson once did for Dick when he had a bad night. There's enough for the three of them, and his heart aches some more, yet his fondness for Jason eclipses any lingering sadness.

Jason moves to get three glasses, and Dick clings to him in his endeavor. He still does not shrug him off, which means Jason isn't too mad at him. Irritated, undoubtedly, but nowhere near harboring the amount of ire that Robin is.

Sweet boy, Dick can't help but think fondly, pressing the kiss he wished to give him earlier into his damp curls.

They move back to the stove, and Jason gives the concoction a few more stirs and turns the flame off when little bubbles line the pot. He pours the honeyed milk into two glasses, puts the pot back on the stove, and covers it with a lid. Dick extricates himself from Jason's back and grabs the glass Jason passes him, leaning against the fridge as Jason leans against the stove.

Jason stares at him, face blank, as he sips his milk, so Dick does the same as he awaits judgment from the most important person in his life.

Eventually, Jason says, "I hadn't realized you hit your growth spurt so early."

Dick, not expecting him to say that at all, sputters, "That's all you have to say?"

Jason huffs. "Of course not, but we can't really talk right now, can we? Anyway, your younger self is like my age, right?"

"Yes," Dick answers. "In fact, he's exactly a month younger than you right now."

"Wow, a whole month," Jason says dryly. He gulps the rest of his milk down, turns away, and starts to wash the glass in the sink. "You—he wasn't what I expected. I—"

Robin, with terrible timing, walks in, nose tilted slightly up, undoubtedly summoned by the aroma of cinnamon and cardamom. At that age, Dick only made milk like this for himself on particularly difficult nights, something Jason has unknowingly taken the burden from him.

"Is that mom's recipe?"

Jason flushes, turning around as his eyes widen, his head swinging back and forth between the two of them, looking much like a deer in headlights. It's a cute look on him. He clears his throat and replies, "Um, I actually got it from my ma. Though this was usually added to coffee instead of creamer."

Robin's features soften for a moment before they tighten again.

Mary Grayson had mainly made it that way, after all.

"Oh, that's nice," Robin says blandly.

"Do you—would you like some?"

"No thanks," he answers coolly.

Jason nods and then blanches, reaching his hand out politely. "I never properly introduced myself earlier. I'm Jason Todd-Wayne."

Yikes, Dick thinks, wishing Jason had kept that second part to himself.

Robin's face scrunches up as he completely ignores Jason's outstretched hand, and Jason lets his hand drop.

"Bruce adopted you?" He asks incredulously. He turns to Dick. "When do we get adopted?"

Dick chuckles a laugh that's a little too nervous because Robin's eyes begin to water.

"We don't? Are you serious? What makes him so special that Bruce wanted to adopt him?

And not me? Dick hears because he's been there.

This is a fresh hurt for Robin, one that Dick laid to rest long ago. It suits him to be Bruce Wayne's ward only, rather than his legal son. There are a lot of things the media can forgive, but incest, even if not my blood, would be a scandal too big to ignore. His and Jason's relationship will fall under censure for a while when they inevitably come out, but it will be swept under the rug because, publicly, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd-Wayne almost never cross paths.

"Well," Dick begins before Robin cuts him off with a scuff.

"How long am I staying here?"

"Two weeks," Dick answers.

"Two weeks?! You know what? I'm not dealing with this at the moment. I'm going to bed."

Robin stomps to Dick's bedroom and locks himself in.

"Tell me how you really feel. Why don't you?" Jason mutters beneath his breath, but speaks louder when he tells Dick, "I'm gonna head to bed, too. He has the right idea. Goodnight, Dick."

He puts the glasses he dried with a dish rag away and walks up to Dick, standing on his tippy toes to kiss the corner of Dick's mouth. He stiffens as one of his hands caresses Dick's jaw, blushing a furious red from his ears to his cheeks, suddenly shy as he speed-walks to the guest bedroom.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Dick asks quietly as he follows.

"No. Yes. I'm not sure." Jason pauses at his door, keeping his body forward and away from Dick. "You could have at least warned me, Dickie."

"I know. I'm sorry, little wing."

"I'm sure. Now go, the shower is calling your name, and then the couch is, too."

"What? You're kicking me out?" He whispers into Jason's ear, who shivers in response.

His ears are bright red as he scolds Dick.

"Don't joke like that with our—our guest around. You're gonna get us in trouble."