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Jason fucking hates Tuesdays.
Fuckin’ Tuesdays, he stews, kicking a can at his feet. Fuckin’ Batman. Fuckin’ drug dealers. Fuckin’…
“Hey,” Tim says, adjusting his baseball cap over his forehead. “Are you blaming Tuesdays again?”
“No,” Jason grunts. He doesn’t make eye contact. “Aren’t you annoyed, though? That we had to come all the way here…”
Tim shrugs, all smarmy-like. “Hey,” He says. “I get to miss school this way, so. I’m not too bothered.”
“But,” And Jason gestures around the alley they’re in. The mist hands low over his face, leaving him with a permanent vaguely damp feeling. “We’re not even in Gotham.”
“So?” Tim says. “I like travel. Anyway, it’s not even that different from Gotham…”
“We’re not even in the country anymore!” Jason hefts his backpack on his shoulder, irritation growing.
“Dude,” Tim says, summarily unimpressed. “What’s with you? So we do a little trip to the UK to investigate some drug operation Scarecrow’s running. What’s wrong with that?”
“I just…” Jason’s face screws up, pushing back at the memories in his head: the heat, the exhaustion, the pain. “I…I don’t like travel. That’s all.”
Tim sighs. “Well,” He says. “You better pull yourself together. Unless you wanna tell Babs you’d rather come back home and not do the mission she asked you to do? Or Bruce?”
“No need to go that far,” Jason mutters
“And,” Tim says. “Do you want to take shit from Damian about not being able to handle a ‘simple fact finding mission’ that even a ‘fool’ could complete?”
“That one,” Jason says, shrugging. “I don’t particularly care about.”
“Well, I do,” Tim says. He looks through the alleyway grimly before pushing forward. “So let’s go. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we come back anyway. So. We headed in the right direction?”
Japan glances back down at the phone in his hand. “Yeah,” He says. “Building should be showing up soon. It’s a bakery, top floor.”
Tim nods. “Okay then,” He says. “Plan confirmed?”
“Reconnaissance,” Jason drones out. “Get a sense of the operation and get out. Yeah. I know.”
“No tipping them off,” Tim says sternly. Jason hears a tinge of Bruce-inspired gravitas in his tone. It’s not quite as effective in a just-hit-puberty vocal range. “I mean, we can probably develop something to counteract the drug now, but still…don’t risk it.”
Jason grins. “Aye aye, Captain.”
He can practically feel Tim’s glowering frown. “Hey,” He says. “Why do you always—” He pauses. “Oh. Hear that?”
“Oh, yes,” Jason says, the feeling of being watched prickling over his back. “Think they’ll attack?”
“Well,” Tim says. “They’re still following, so.”
Jason nods. “Yeah,” He says. “Get ready..”
He barely has time to pull out a weapon before all hell breaks loose.
“I. Fucking. Hate. Tuesdays!”
Jason rolls, dodging a sword (a sword?) that clangs heavily against the cobblestones of the alleyway.
He looks up. A veritable gang of people seem to have rolled up on them in the last couple minutes, all outfitted in the same dark outfit and face covering.
They’d been ready for them. This is an ambush.
“Stop it with the Tuesday thing already,” Tim says, whacking a man around the head with his staff. “It’s obnoxious at this point.”
“You’re obnoxious at this point,” Jason kicks another man in the chest, then zaps someone else with an escrima stick. “You know what else is obnoxious? Not having a fucking gun.”
“I guess you—oomph—missed the point of a covert operation,” Tim says, staggering back at an attack, but recovering quickly.
Jason, about to go help him, is stopped by three attacking him at once. “This look covert to you?” He asks, zapping at someone else. “And anyway…shit!”
There’s too many people. It’s taking all his concentration to stay alive, stay uninjured, and he senses more than sees someone start to make his way around them, to the vulnerability of his back.
Jason grits his teeth, doing a final large sweep before turning back. “No you don’t—”
But he turns to see a nozzle pointed directly at his face, and stumbles back automatically. “Shit..”
He flips through days worth of research in his head substance distribution memory issues side effects no treatment yet magic involved and holds his breath, swearing internally…
A crossbow bolt suddenly embeds itself in the man’s chest, who gives a kind of choked gasp, shudders, then collapses onto the damp cobblestones, twitching a couple times before going still.
Jason doesn’t have time to react. He whirls back around, lifting a stick to protect himself from a blow to his head. Tim is standing nearby, still fighting, still upright.
He sees another man aim a knife at Tim from behind, then draws in a breath to warn him, before…
A gunshot rings through the air, and the man screams, clutching at his bloody hand and dropping to his knees.
Guns? Jason thinks frantically. He dodges a blow to the head, feeling weirdly vindicated. He draws an arm back, ready to zap another person, before—
A large figure runs in from the side, tackling the person in front of him and taking him both to the ground. They collapse into the shadows, tussling in a smaller alleyway to the side.
“What—”
Jason whirls around back to Tim, and sees someone else jump into the fray next to him. It’s a woman this time: face uncovered, clothing casual, and punches lethal.
Who the hell…
He feels something sting at his shin. His leg buckles, and he swears as he stumbles to his knees, trying to find his bearings.
The sticks drop from his hands and roll, and he dives frantically to try to grab them back. He looks up to see another nozzle aimed at his face, and…
Time slows down. Jason sees the finger on the nozzle tighten, then push, and he knows that there’s no stopping it, that he won’t have time to move backwards or to the side…
Suddenly, he’s looking at a gray t shirt covering a broad back, and it’s so unexpected that he thinks there’s something wrong with his sight at first. Instead, he hears the nozzle being deployed and then a cough, and he knows that it isn’t coming from him, so…
A woman’s voice cries out “You idiot!”
The back in front of him bends, then falls, revealing the startled eyes of the masked man that Jason had been staring at earlier, still holding the spray bottle. This snaps Jason back into movement, and he picks the sticks back up and delivers a hard thwack to the man’s head.
He hears the thrmmm sound of another crossbow bolt, then keeps fighting, mind whirling. He notices almost instantly that the crowd seems to have thinned out, but he doesn’t know if that means that they won or that they lost.
It feels like minutes, but the alleyway empties out, save for a few of the men that they had taken down. The woman with the crossbow stows it away then runs, falling to her knees in front of Jason, pulling at the downed man in front of him.
Tim follows close behind, looking tired, but cautious. Jason nods at him, then waits for Tim’s answering nod.
“So,” Jason says eyeing the duo in front of them. “You think they bulk ordered all those ninja outfits or did they have them laying around?”
Tim gives a tired laugh. “Maybe they got them from the Minion Coat Factory,” He suggests,
“Not your best work,” Jason comments, before the woman gives a loud sigh.
“You idiot,” The woman hisses again to the downed man. She pulls at the man on the ground, who slowly goes upright, head bowed. “What are you doing?”
The man looks up. Jason literally feels the color drain from his face.
“Dick?”
Tim stops in his tracks at the word, drawing a quick, choked breath.
Dick looks him in the eye (it’s him oh my god it’s him it’s him it’s him), and then, with a slight air of confusion, says:
“Who?”
Jason’s blood freezes in his veins. “That’s…” His kind is whirring in all sorts of different directions, not knowing where to stop, and how. “That’s…that’s you. That’s you, right? It’s you?”
Dick’s (maybe?) eyebrows furrow. “I…” He says. “No. I’m…” He looks up at the woman with him, who gives him a curious stare. “Who are these people? Do we know them?”
“No,” The woman says, giving him a furtive look. “What’s wrong with you?”
It’s at this point that something in Jason snaps.
He surges forward, grabbing Dick by the shoulders and pulling him close. He stares intently into his face. “It’s you, isn’t it? It’s you. It looks like you. What happened? How is it you?”
Dick’s startled eyes darken quickly. A hand quickly latched onto his wrists and bodily throw him off. “Get off me,” Dick says, voice dangerous. “Don’t do that again.”
“Stop being a dick,” Jason yells, trying to get closer. “What was it? Lazarus Pit? Did it make you forget or something? Did it—”
A hand yank at his shoulder, pulls him back. He startles, looks down and Tim, white-faced and tight lipped, holding onto him for dear life.
“Stop,” Tim says, and it comes out quiet. “This is…look, we don’t know what’s going on, okay? But we need to find out. Obviously.”
Here, the woman with Dick steps in. “We all need to calm down,” She says. “Look. I’ll introduce myself, okay? My colleague,” and here she points at Dick (it’s him!) “And I represent a global organization that specializes in, hm, covert operations, let’s say. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this at all, but,” And here she gives him a searching look. “I have a feeling you would have found out about us either way.”
“I don’t really give a shit,” Jason begins, but Tim squeezes his shoulder tighter.
“Let her continue,” He says quietly. His eyes are fixed on Dick, and his hand is trembling.
“There’s not much more than that, really,” The woman says. “You can refer to me as Matron, and this,” She gestures at Dick. “Introduce yourself.”
Dick nods. “I’m Agent 37,” He says. “I would say pleased to meet you, but…”
“Yes, okay, fine,” Jason says, impatient. “Let me guess. You woke up somewhere and were told that you were this agent guy at this organization and that you’ve always been there, and you rolled with that, right?”
“Hey,” The woman protests, but Dick waves her down.
“No,” Dick says. “That’s incorrect, actually. I’m pretty sure I’ve only ever been Agent 37. That’s just who I am.”
Jason’s eyebrows raise. “Oh yeah?” He says. “Can you tell me anything about your childhood?”
“I…” Dick’s voice trails off. “Why would I tell you that? I don’t know you.”
“Come on,” Jason says. “You very clearly don’t remember a childhood. So what does that tell you? Either you popped into existence as an adult or you’ve been brainwashed in some way. And, since you were fucking dead, my guess would be on a Lazarus Pit.”
“Dead?” Dick asks.
“What the hell is a Lazarus Pit?” Matron says at the same time.
“Fuck it,” Jason says. He grabs at Dick’s arm again. “Come on. Let’s take you home, and we can try to get your memory back. And then when you remember us we can talk for real instead of going in circles like this.”
Dick yanks his arm back again. “I don’t know you!”
“Oh yeah?” Jason says, voice rising. “Then why did you—”
“Let’s talk for a sec,” Tim interrupts, pulling him off to the side. “Stay there, please.”
“What are you doing?” Jason hisses as he’s dragged off. “That’s Dick. You know? Your brother? The one that’s dead? That brother? How are you not…how are you not reacting to this?”
“We don’t know that it’s him,” Tim says, and his voice cracks on the word. “We can’t…we can’t be sure until we can confirm it. And I…I don’t want to say that until…”
Oh. Jason feels kind of bad for snapping. “Hey,” He says. “I get it. But, come on. That’s Dick. It’s very clearly him. And he’s alive and he needs a kick in the ass to remember who he is. And we’re the only ones who can help him.”
Tim sniffs. “Yeah,” He says. “I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Jason says. “Look. This is good news. He’s alive! We just need to get all of him back is all. And this isn’t our first go around with resurrection, right?”
Tim nods.
“Excellent,” Jason turns back to the two agents. “Now. As I was saying. If you didn’t know us, why did you jump in and save us from those guys? There’s no reason to do that for completely random strangers. Especially not for jumping in front of someone who was about to—”
He cuts himself off. “Oh. Hold on. You got hit by…oh my god. Oh we’re so stupid.”
“Oh,” The Matron says, snapping her fingers. “You’re right! The spray. Or whatever that was. That’s probably what’s going on here.”
“What spray?” Tim asks, eyes narrowed.
“I don’t feel any different,” Dick says, but Jason ignores him.
“Dick got sprayed by something during the fight,” He explains to Tim. “And…hey, remember what we came here for? Scarcrow’s whole operation?”
Tim stares at him for a second before understanding fills his gaze. It’s a second longer than it would normally take. “Oh!” He says. And then, quietly, again, “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Jason says grimly. He turns to the other two. “We came here to investigate a drug operation, with some sort of magic involved—it’s a long story. The drugs have a…memory issues side effect. And since Dick here lost his memories after getting hit, then—”
“He must’ve ingested the drug,” Matron continues. Her eyes tighten. “Amateur hour, 37. How do you let yourself get hit like that?”
“I didn’t!” Dick protest. “I…” His eyes glaze over. “I…”
Tim interrupts him. “The memory loss seems targeted,” He says thoughtfully. “His whole sense of self is gone, but he still seems to be able to function like he normally does. He has a persona left, but only his primary identity is gone. This is new, we should look into this more.”
“And get you back,” Jason says, staring Dick down.
“And get him back,” Tim agrees. He gestures towards them. “We probably have a formula that’ll be helpful here, to counteract the drug. And that thing Constantine gave us…Anyway, if you’ll all come with me, we can take you back home and—”
Dick shakes his head, speaking before Tim’s even done. “I can’t leave,” He says. “I have work to do here. I can’t leave.”
“You have to,” Jason cuts in. “You need to get your memory back, don’t you? And then, maybe…” His voice trails off. “We can find out what happened to you.”
“He’s not leaving,” Matron cuts in. “We have resources here you can use. A lab, everything. We’ll take you to HQ: we need the real 37 back, so consider yourselves hired. On a temporary basis.”
“No,” Tim says, voice firm. “All our research…we have everything set up at our base. We can take it from here.”
Dick shakes his head. “I’m not going,” He repeats and man does that stubborn expression look familiar. Jason had thought he was never going to see it again. “I don’t know you.”
Tim looks at Jason helplessly.
Jason sighs. Fucking Tuesdays. “Fine,” she says shortly, then tilts his head to Tim. “You got the folder with all the info? And all the solutions and stuff?”
Tim grits his teeth. “Yeah,” He says. “I do. But—”
“We kinda don’t have a choice, here,” Jason says. He glances at the two agents again. “Fine. Lead the way. We’ll go to your HQ.”
“Right,” Matron grabs Dick’s hand, helping to pull him to his feet. “Follow us. 37, you remember the way?”
Dick nods. “Yeah,” He says, then sets off without another word.
Jason swears under his breath, then rushes to follow, Tim right next to him.
It doesn’t take long before Tim breaks.
Jason had known it was coming, had seen it in the twitching of his fingers and the telltale furrow of his brow, so he just waits.
He doesn’t want long before he feels him elbow his arm. “Jason,” Tim hisses, clearly trying to remain out of earshot. “We have a problem.”
“You think?” Jason says, eyebrows raised. “What could’ve clued you into that idea? What, with the drug ninjas and resurrected amnesiac brother?”
“Shut up,” Tim mutters. “Anyway. We probably blew the mission. I’d guess the drug operation’s packing up and leaving as we speak.”
Jason sighs. “Get ready for that earful from Damian.”
“You said you didn’t care about that!”
Jason shrugs. “I lied. He’s a tiny little shrimp and his royal shrimpiness gets soooo smug when he’s right.”
“Yeah,” Tim says, but his heart is clearly not into it. “I guess so.”
Jason waits a little more.
“It’s just that,” Tim begins, voice hesitant. “Dick…he got hit by the memory spray thing right? And he got hit because he was saving us, right?”
Jason nods. “He stepped in front of me,” He says. His throat tightens. “He took the hit.”
“So,” Tim says. “He knew to do that. He knew who we were, before he got sprayed. So…he was alive this whole time. Here. And…and we thought he was dead.”
Jason sits with that for a while. A spike of anger and confusion pools up in his head.
“We thought he was dead,” Jason repeats. “And he’s alive. And…and we don’t know why…”
“But he still…” Tim swallows. “He must’ve known. What that would do. And…and he still did it. Why?”
Jason grits his teeth. He stares at the back of Dick’s head. “We’ll find out soon enough,” He says.
A sign in the distance catches his eye. He squints. “Does that say girls’ school?”
“Welcome,” Matron says, sweeping an arm out at the entrance. “To HQ.”
Jason eyes the building, skeptical. “Girls’ school?” He repeats.
Matron shrugs, smiling. “The children are our future, and all that,” She says.
Jason waits for Dick to chime in, make a lame joke, continue the song lyrics…
But he just stands there, face blank, waiting.
Matron gives him a look. “Wow,” She says. “You’re really not yourself, huh?”
“Yeah, like we’ve been saying,” Jason says, a little irritated by her overfamiliarty. “So can we speed this up already?”
“Jason,” Tim hisses, sounding embarrassed.
Matron shrugs. “I’ve had worse,” She says. She leads them through hallways, the sounds of laughing women echoing in the distance. “I just need to take you around—ah. Here we go.”
She stops outside a door with ROOM 84 emblazoned on a large sign stuck to it. She creaks it open then peers in furtively before ushering them in “Come on,” She says.
Dick goes in robotically, without comment. Jason follows, seeing a pretty impressive and fully equipped lab on the inside.
“Huh,” Jason says, looking around. “Nice setup you have here.”
Dick, finally, speaks up. “Are you sure about this?” He asks Matron, with only a hint of doubt in his voice.
“Yes,” Matron says. “We gotta get you back to how you were. And, you know,” She gives him a significant look. “I’m going to need you fully with me for what’s coming.”
Dick’s face clears up. “Ah. Right.”
“You don’t have much time,” She says, backing up towards the door. “Try to get it done quick. I’ll keep watch. Good luck.” She nods, then snaps the door shut.
Tim instantly leaps into work, pulling out his file and starting to decipher it. “I’ll need a while,” Is all he says, before his focus narrows and he zones in on the problem in front of him.
Jason sinks into a straight backed chair. “All we can do is wait,” He feels compelled to tell Dick. “I’m gonna nap, I think.”
Dick’s face is blank. Disturbingly so. He nods.
It disturbs Japan so much that he wants to try to wipe it off. “What do I call you?” He asks him. “Agent? 37? Full name? What?”
A bit of emotion leaks back into Dick’s face. “Agent 37 is fine,” He says. He falls silent again.
“So,” Jason says, trying to goad out the emotion again. “What do you like to do? You have any hobbies, anything like that?”
Dick stays carefully blank. “Not particularly,” He says. “I’m too busy for that.”
“Doing what?”
“Top secret,” Dick replies. “Can’t tell you.”
“Then why were we okay to be let in here?” Jason asks. “You sure didn’t put up much of a fight to take us right into the heart of your operation.”
Dick shrugs. “Matron made that call,” He says. “I followed her lead.”
“Yeah,” Jason says. “But that wasn’t very international man of mystery of you, was it? What do you think that means?”
Dick frowns a little. “Can’t say it means anything,” He says.
Well. He’s just as frustrating without his memories as he is with them. “Then why are you still talking to me?” Jason demands. “What do you gain? Is that what you’re drawn to do? Have you thought about why that is?”
“You’re very angry,” Dick says, looking a little curious now. “Why?”
“Don’t try that on me,” Jason says. “I know you. That won’t work. And anyway, I’m not angry. I just want answers.”
“And I can’t give them to you,” Dick pins him with a searching gaze. “Look. I know it sounds…illogical, but I think you may be right. Maybe I am the guy you say I am, and the gaps in my memory hold the person you’re looking for. But I’m not that guy right now. And I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”
Jason laughs disbelievingly. “You sure about that?” He asks. “You sure sound like him right now.”
“Maybe,” Dick says. “But I’m not him. I’m Agent 37. You’re going to have to wait for this other guy to come back.”
“Hey,”
They both turn. Tun stands there, a glass bottle in his hand. “It’s done. It was mostly done anyway, because of the magic involved, I just added the—never mind. It’s done. You can take it.”
Dick stands up, slowly taking the bottle from Tim’s hand. Tim doesn’t make eye contact, and steps over to Jason’s side as soon as the bottle leaves his possession.
That…that definitely seems like a problem.
“So?” Jason asks. “You ready for the other guy to come back?”
“I…” Dick says. He pushes, drawing in a deep breath.
Jason waits, heart pounding.
Dick breathes out slowly, then says “Okay.”
“What,” Jason says, disbelieving. “Just like that?”
“I guess I trust you,” Dick says. Before Jason can reply, he downs the liquid in one swallow.
Jason waits.
Time ticks by, and Dick just sits there, eyes screwed shut.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jason whispers to Tim, eyeing Dick critically.
Tim is so tense he’s about to snap in half. “It probably tastes gross,” He says. “Give it a second. It’ll work. I’m sure it’ll work. Give it a second.”
Jason waits a second. And then another. And then another.
When Dick opens his eyes again, alive, teary, scared, Jason knows. He knows.
He stands up.
“Dick?” Tim asks, voice a tad wobbly. “You back?”
Dick takes a shuddering breath. “Hi guys,” he croaks out. “Long time no see.”
Tim lets out a soft oh noise, then runs toward Dick is one quick motion. He slams into his torso, almost knocking him backward. He wraps Dick in a tight hug, face mashed into the gray t shirt. “You’re alive,” Tim says, voice teary. “You’re…you’re here.”
Dick wraps his arms around Tim, squeezing just as tight. “Yeah,” He says, choked. “I guess I am.”
There’s a part of Jason that wants to join them, to give in to the need to give a hug, to allow a few tears to fall, to let go of that weight on his shoulders.
There’s a bigger part, though, that’s too full of rage to do much of anything else.
Jason crosses his arms. “So,” He says, voice deceptively calm. “Can you explain how you’re alive? When we all saw you die? And why, if you were alive this whole time, you’re here instead?”
Tim freezes, then slowly lets go of Dick, backing up next to Jason.
Dick’s face falls into a devastated expression. He stays silent.
“Dick?” Tim says. His voice is quiet, confused. “Can you answer his question?”
Dick audibly swallows. “I…” He says. “Look. I’m still a little out of it because I just got all my memories back, so—”
“Excuses,” Jason says shortly. “You have your memories back? That means you have your reasons back too. So. Explain.”
Dick sighs. “Look,” He says. “I didn’t want to. I promise you, I didn’t want to. And…and I wanted you to know I was okay. But…I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”
Jason gives a disbelieving laugh. “That’s barely an explanation,” He says. “Total bullshit, to be honest. Did you even die? Or was that a lie too?”
Dick’s voice softens. “No. That was real. It’s just…I didn’t stay that way. Obviously.”
“Obviously?” Jason says, eyebrows raising. “That’s what you have to say right now? Unbelievable.”
Dick raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean it that way,” He says. “I promise. I…I really am sorry, it’s just…”
“How could you?”
And there’s the Tim explosion.
“You knew. You knew how upset we’d be! You knew. And you still let it happen. We mourned you! We…we had to deal with that all by ourselves! Us, and Babs, and Alfred, and Damian—” and here Tim’s mouth clicks shut, a look of horror on his face. “Oh my god. Damian. Do you know?”
Dick actually smiles. “Yeah,” He says, a heavy sort of relief in his voice. “I…I saw him. On the news. I about passed out when I did.”
Shitty way to find out. But really is there even a good way? Or just a bunch of really bad ways?
“Then you know! How could you?” Tim’s voice is hoarse by now, his volume increasing with every word. “Not to mention what it’s doing to Bruce!”
Dick’s expression flickers, just barely, at Bruce’s name. Jason knows the signs, and knows exactly what that must mean.
“Tim,” Dick says, voice heavy, but Jason doesn’t let him get that far.
“Bruce,” Jason repeats. “He knew, didn’t he.”
Dick makes eye contact with him, and Jason knows that he’s right. “He’s…he’s the one who sent me here.” He says. There’s an air of resignation in his tone, a total surrender to his situation. It’s disquieting, seeing him like this.
“Of fucking course,” Jason mutters. “Let me guess. He saw an opportunity to use your whole situation and he took it. Motherfu—”
“But you went along with it!” Tim bursts out. He’s still angry (so angry) but not as explosive now. “If you didn’t want to, you should’ve just refused! If you really thought it was wrong, you should’ve just said no!”
Dick chuckles darkly. “You’re right,” He says. “I should’ve. That one…that one’s on me. I’m sorry, I really mean it. And if you can’t forgive me, I understand.”
Something’s still off. Jason frowns at him. “You’re telling me you woke up from near death, Bruce asked you to do this, and then you said yes? Just like that?”
Dick hesitates. “Well…”
Jason swears under his breath. “What did he do?” He asks. “To make you go. What did he do?”
Dick shakes his head, disbelieving. “What makes you think he did anything?”
“Because I know you,” Jason says. “And I know him. And that story doesn’t track, for either of you. Unless you went fully dark side and decided to embrace being his perfect little soldier? You’re telling me that you would ever do that, in a million years?”
Tim’s eyes are on him, a slow understanding dawning in his eyes. “Of course,” He says, voice still a little hoarse. “There’s gotta be something more to this. What happened?”
“Look,” Dick begins, voice heavy. “I’ve worked with Bruce a long time. Ever since I was a little kid. There’s certain things with him that I understand, and if he asks this of me, then, well…”
“Bullshit,” Jason repeats. “And what’s with this little kid shit? You were sixteen when you became Robin. Don’t lie more.”
Dick frowns. “No, I was…” He trails off. “I was…was it eight, or ten? I can’t remember.”
Jason frowns. “Huh? What’re you saying?”
“What’s wrong?” Tim demands. “Are you feeling off again? Your memory?”
Dick shakes his head. “Nah,” He says. “Sorry. Anyway. You know how it is. When it’s something really important, it’s important. Like, world-ending important.”
“Was this world-ending important?” Jason asks. He sees the answer clearly on Dick’s face. “Or was this daddy issues important? Or Bruce being a piece of shit important?”
“You lost the metaphor there,” Tim mutters.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jason responds. That’s back to normal, at least. “So. If this wasn’t world-ending important. Then why? Because the Dick I know wouldn’t have let Bruce force him to do anything just because.”
Dick just shakes his head again. He laughs, but it’s hollow. “I didn’t even say anything,” He asks, almost wonderingly. “How do you know this?”
“Because I know you,” Jason says. “Idiot. How many times have I said that already? So? Stop stalling. What happened?”
“You don’t want to know,” Dick says. His face is stuck between a small smile and a grimace. “Trust me.”
“Oh, we really do want to know,” Jason says. Tim nods his assent.
Dick just sighs. “Okay,” He says. “I’ll tell you. I promise. But for now,” He looks around. “We have to get you guys back, okay?”
“You’re coming too,” Tim says instantly.
“What, already?” Jason asks. “You trying to get rid of us?”
“No,” Dick insists. At Tim’s protest, he raises a hand. “I want to go with you, but I can’t. Listen. There’s things going on here right now…I need to see them through. A lot of lives are at stake. But the first chance I get, I’ll come. Promise. I promise. And trust me: you guys knowing I’m alive already lifts a huge weight off my shoulders. Bruce’ll have little to no issue with letting me come back if he knows that you guys know.”
“Letting you?” Jason asks, eyes narrowed. “Also. What makes you think we’ll be okay with doing that? Just up and leaving you here?”
Dick’s face softens. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But, look. We need to make sure to get you guys out of here as soon as possible. It’s…well. I want to make sure the people here don’t get you in their radar.”
“Will you be okay then?” Tim asks, concerned about this development. “Staying here? It doesn’t look like you trust them.”
“I don’t,” Dick says. “And I wouldn’t stay unless I felt like I had to. And…I’ll keep in touch, okay? You won’t be leaving me entirely like that. Bruce has a way to contact me, you can bully him into using his. Tell the rest of the family, okay? I want them to know.”
This, more than anything, convinces Jason that Dick means every word of his promise. “Fine,” he says, over Tim’s protest. “We need to clean up here first, anyway. Which would be faster if I had my gun.” He eyes Dick’s belt. “Hey, can I—”
“No,” Dick says instantly.
“Come on,” Jason whines. “How come you get one and I don’t?”
“If I had the choice,” Dick says. “I’d switch with you. But alas.”
Jason raises an eyebrow. “Hey,” He says. “Does Bruce know about that? The gun?”
Dick laughs, strangely bitter. “He has to deal with it,” He says. “If he sends me here, he has to live with those consequences.”
Jason knows Dick isn’t the biggest fan of guns either, so this is probably hitting on a sore spot. Kind of his expertise, to be honest.
“I’m still mad at you,” Tim interrupts, staring Dick down. “Really mad.”
Dick’s mood changes again. “I know,” He says softly. “I’m sorry. Really.”
Tim surges forward suddenly, hugging Dick tightly again. “Really really mad,” He mutters into Dick’s tshirt.
Dick hugs back, pats him on the head. “I know,” He says. “Missed you.”
Tim makes a small, wounded sound. “Me too.”
Dick looks up, making eye contact with Jason. “You too, kiddo.” He says.
“Kiddo?” Jason says. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “Yeah. Me too, I guess,” He clears his throat. “I’m waiting for that full explanation. The minute you get back. We’ll decide what to do with Bruce from there.”
“You don’t have to—” Dick says, and Tim lets go of him again. “Look…”
Tim walks to the back of the room, quickly starting to gather up everything they brought with them.
“Shut up,” Jason says. “We’ll handle it then. We’ll head back now, contact you later. Deal?”
Tim pops back up, shoving things into Jason’s backpack. “Done,” He says.
“Deal,” Dick answers him. He gestures at them both. “I’ll lead you back, okay? Follow me.”
He walks them to the door, then pushes ahead, directing them to follow. “Matron,” He says quietly. “We’re good to go.”
She pops back around the corner. “You back now?” She says, giving him a searching look.
He grins. “Like a bad penny,” He says.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. It’s you all right,” She gestures at the rest of them. “Right. Let’s go.”
They walk down the hallways, quietly striding through the creaking building, before Tim whispers. “We’ll need to regroup on this mission. How bad do you think we’ll get it from Damian for failing it?”
“We’re bringing Dick back,” Jason says, eyeing him. “I’m sure he’ll forget all about that.”
“I doubt it,” Tim mutters, but he grins just the same.
They head out the door, following Dick through the hallways. He walks different here, not like a Dick, not really. Like Agent 37.
Jason shakes the unease out of his head.
“Hey,” Tim says. “You still hate Tuesdays now?”
Jason snorts. “You kidding?” He says. “They’re still the worst. Although…” He glances up to see Dick ahead of them. “Gotta say. It’s about…20% less bad than it was.”
“Only 20%, huh?” Tim asks, amused.
“Yeah,” He says, then “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You didn’t have to,” He keeps his eyes forward. “I know you.”
“You do,” Tim says. He smiles again. “You really, really do.”
