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Jason made sure to squeeze his motorcycle obnoxiously into the same parking space as Dick's blue 2013 Honda Accord. One handle rests easily against the driver's door, and he has to do several awkward moves he's grateful nobody is around to witness just so he can get out of the self-made obstacle course. And keep the plastic bag of Thai food from being dumped onto the wet concrete.
No point bringing food to bribe his way into Dick's apartment if said food is lying on Dick's parking space.
The food is a bribe, even though there's no way Jason would ever need to bribe his way into any building where Dick Grayson is. No, usually Dick's bribing Jason, trying to make him stay over.
It's always 'oh come on Little Wing, it's too late to drive back now! I'll order a pizza, supreme's still your favorite right?'
Or 'You can't leave now, Alfred sent me back with three bags of chicken noodle soup! I had to put one in the freezer, and it's turned into a frozen square, Jay, it's crazy.'
And more often, 'Come work this case with me, we can order Indian!'
And it's not like Jason needs to be bribed with food all the time, but he'll never turn it down. So he usually sucks it up and stays at Dick's apartment to watch shitty reruns of The Golden Girls and then pass out on the crappy pullout that he's positive is older than Bruce. And Bruce is old.
Bringing Dick food is not the norm between them. And it has nothing to do with the fact that it's been pouring for the last four days, and that Jason knows Dick eats way less when it rains. He doesn't know why, but between him and Tim, they've found some patterns. Dick seems different when it rains, just a little off, and you know what Jason doesn't like the rain much either. Digging his way out of the ground during a thunderstorm certainly didn't help much with that.
But that's it. And sure, Jason bought way too much Thai, but Dick will have space for leftovers, and Jason won't want to take them back tomorrow, and so Dick will have to eat them or waste Jason's money, which would be really shitty of him.
He's tired, too, in a bone-weary way. He's gotten maybe two days of sleep over the past two weeks, because on a fucking stakeout for Calendar Man with Steph he got hit in the face with a Fear Toxin canister and has had night terrors every time he manages to actually go to sleep. And sure, Jason ain't special, but Fear Toxin sure loves him.
Honestly, he's not really sure why he's coming here of all places. Objectively, he feels safe when he sleeps somewhere with Roy or Kori. The Manor (off limits for obvious reasons, but mainly because Bruce is stupid and Jason hates him) has the thousand-count thread sheets, the downy mattresses, and other rich people shit that would probably feel like heaven.
And yet, when Jason decided he couldn't take the silence anymore, he hopped on his bike and crossed the bridge to Blüdhaven.
Instead of picking the lock, he opts to just... stand outside the door for a second. His legs burn from climbing five flights of stairs, his eyes are grainy and dry, and he has to catch his breath first. Jason's whole shtick relies on serious muscle. He's not a cardio energy bunny, but he could probably bench press Bruce.
Nah. Jason could definitely bench press Bruce.
The door opens before he even realizes he knocked, leaving him staring blankly at Dick like an idiot before his brain catches up to his body and he blinks a few times.
"Hey, Jay," Dick says with a smile. It's tired, but genuine.
Suddenly, Jason feels a little self-conscious. His skin prickles at the gentle kindness on Dick's face, as if with one quick glance, Dick knows why Jason's here. He holds up the bag, the rustling plastic drawing Dick's gaze down. "I, uh, brought Thai. Kinda ordered more'n I meant to. Figured I'd come and see if you wanted any?"
Wow. He must be more tired than he thought. That was really horrible.
To his relief, Dick simply opens the door wider and doesn't try to touch him. "I hope you ordered enough," he says.
Jason doesn't have time to ask what the hell that means before the countdown for Mario Kart 8 echoes from the main room. Someone- Damian, definitely- screeches like a feral cat, and Jason peeks in to see that Baby Mario's racecar has backfired at the starting line. He almost laughs as eleven other cars drive around him, but holds it in because Damian is very sensitive about losing.
Steph does laugh, though, and Jason watches as Damian knocks the pro controller out of her hands. He would watch more, because sibling fights are one of the best forms of entertainment ever, but then Dick is taking the bag out of his hands and leading him to the kitchen.
"Were the roads okay?"
Doing his best not to show how he really didn't pay attention while driving the hour here, Jason nods. "Lots of rain, but I didn't see any accidents, so it could've been worse."
Dick hums, setting the oven to 100°F so that he can reheat the food. Jason probably should’ve stopped closer to the apartment. He’s sleep-deprived, which legally absolves him of responsibility.
"You wanna get changed into something dry while the food reheats? It should be a couple of minutes," Dick prompts, and Jason realizes he's been zoning out.
He's suddenly very conscious of the wet jeans and soaked jacket that are clinging to his body, and the hair plastered to his forehead. "That- yeah. Sure."
When he crosses through the living room, he sees Damian and Steph pressed against different sides of the couch. Cass is stretched out on the floor, Rosalina's motorcycle clearing the finish line in first place. Tim is hunched in a little ball over his laptop (like usual), a blanket draped over him like a cloak. He’s watching the race, then starts coughing like his lungs are personally offended by oxygen.
Jason winces. That doesn’t sound great.
His clothes are neatly folded in the entire second drawer of Dick's dresser. It's been like that for probably close to a year, and yet it still manages to shock Jason every time he opens it. He pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt (the apartment is kinda fucking freezing) and dries his hair on the red towel that's folded in the bathroom closet. There's plenty of other colors in there- one for each sibling, Dick told him, but Jason doesn't know if any of the kids have a space in Dick's wardrobe. A year ago, it would've pissed Jason off to know that Dick noticed enough about his behavior to be ready for all of Jason's bullshit. Now, though, he has to force down the warmth in his chest at the thought that Dick cares about him.
Of course he does. This is Dick.
That and Jason tends to crash here fairly often. Against his better judgment.
"Why the fuck are you here?" Jason demands, glaring at Tim. This is familiar.
Tim glares back, coughing a little more before rasping, "I have bronchitis."
"Yeah, I fucking figured that out," Jason rolls his eyes. "I'm asking how you got out of the Manor without Alfred sedating and/or restraining you? And why are you literally working right now?"
They both turn to watch when Damian starts cursing the game maker's entire bloodline when he gets hit by a blue shell. Cass and Steph immediately pass him.
"Sucks to suck, Dami!" Steph cheers.
... Jason might be fearing for her physical safety soon.
"I am technically recovering. Alfred said so himself, but then he wouldn't let me keep my tablet."
"Wow," Jason mutters sarcastically. "That's basically a hate crime."
He watches as Dick steps in from the kitchen, an orange pill bottle in one hand and a large glass of water in the other. "Here ya go, Timmy," he says cheerfully.
"No thanks," Tim says. He sounds flippant, but Jason's tried that game many times before, and Dick doesn't quit when it comes to taking care of anyone's health issues besides his own.
Luckily, because it's Tim, he gets to watch Dick first try and coax him into taking a pill- Tim's throwing a fit about prednisone, of all things- before he physically presses Tim's forehead back and forces a pill into his mouth. "There," Dick smiles as if he didn't just commit an act that any medical professional would consider unethical at best, "all done. Drink up!"
Tim scowls, glaring at Dick's turned back until he's in the kitchen.
Jason wants to ask several things. Mainly, and still, how on earth did Tim manage to get to Dick's apartment without dying or being physically dragged back by Bruce? Also, has Tim noticed anything if Dick ate today? And, kind of pressing, how is he supposed to sleep when the couch is being used?
Instead, he follows Dick back to the kitchen. "Why's Timbuktu doing work while literally losing a lung?" At least that's a good question, because their brother is always forcing self-care and rest and other shit like that.
He watches Dick turn the oven off before the alarm can beep, and tries not to show his gratitude. Then, because he's not lazy like the others, he grabs an oven mitt before Dick can, pulling out the sheet with a mix of half the menu.
Wow. He really went overboard, didn't he?
"See, normally I wouldn't have let him," Dick switches to grabbing a few cups from the cabinet, "but he's been on the same tab for three hours and written one sentence. He feels like crap already, I figured I'll let him try and distract himself."
"Pretty sure he's just distracted by the game," Jason mutters.
Dick shrugs, but throws a slightly devious smile over his shoulder. "That's neither here nor there."
"How's the world of Gotham's favorite anti-hero?" Steph asks, punching his arm as she heads to the second drawer from the fridge and pulls out a packet of gum. "Anything new?"
"I got a cat," Jason says. "Kinda."
She blows an impressive bubble before snapping it obnoxiously between her teeth. Then pinches her fingers together and moves her hand forward slowly, fixing him with an intense look. In a deep voice, she says, “One does not simply kinda adopt a cat.”
Dick snorts, and Jason heaves a sigh. "I dunno, he keeps showing up at my window. And I sometimes give him food."
Steph grins. "Yeah, sorry you're stuck with him. That's the cat distribution system at work."
Yeah, Jason kinda figured that.
Somehow, he ends up helping her cook three boxes of Kraft mac'n'cheese while Dick divides the Thai onto six separate plates. She's telling him about the book report she did on Wuthering Heights, which Jason recommended like, three months ago. Normally, he would love to chime in and debate with her responses, but he feels his brain start blanking out and lets her chatter flow over him.
At some point, Dick chimes in, and Jason just stirs the mac'n'cheese until the synthetic orange powder (which always looks so suspicious) manages to meld with the noodles, and his shoulders release tension they've been holding for several weeks.
"Todd!"
Jason blinks. Damian's staring at him, tone suggesting that this isn't the first time his name has been said.
"What do you want, pipsqueak?" he growls to cover up the fact that he just dissociated while stirring mac'n'cheese. Which isn't even on the stove anymore.
Unfortunately, Damian simply turns his little nose up, scoffing. "You've reached peak Unc status, Todd. I hope you are properly ashamed of this title."
From the living room, Tim and Steph bust out laughing, and then Tim starts hacking again. Jason makes eye contact with Dick, who luckily looks just as lost as he is. Jason mouths What the fuck and Dick just smiles, shrugging.
They watch as Damian grabs his plate, proudly marching out to where his suddenly adoring fans cheer for him.
"Teaching slang," Jason jumps when Cass speaks from right next to his elbow. She smiles, baring her teeth. “Very funny,” before grabbing her own plate and leaving.
"The fuck?"
Dick sighs forlornly, a little crease indenting between his eyebrows. "They make me feel so old sometimes," he says dramatically.
Usually, here's where Jason would jump in and remind Dick that he is ancient, but at this point Dick's the only one on his side. So for once in his life, he chooses not to alienate his allies.
Only Damian sits on the couch, curled up against one arm. Steph and Cass sit on the floor, flicking through Dick's Disney account. Jason quickly takes the other arm of the couch. He's well aware of how much Steph likes her floor space, and no fucking way is he sitting by the demon brat.
Of course, Dick easily slots between them. With him finally there, Steph clicks onto The Incredibles, and Jason lets himself be. In between bites of egg roll and mac'n'cheese, he debates each logical point Tim makes about how the government should not be able to control vigilante activity. Sure, he agrees with everything the kid is saying, but because it's Tim, he has to disagree on principle.
Cass collects everyone's plates, clinking glass echoing from the kitchen as she loads the dishwasher. Damian slowly leans into Dick's side, reminding Jason of the cat on his windowsill. Maybe that's why Dick loves the kid so much.
To nobody's surprise, Tim falls asleep almost as soon as Cass turns off the lights. Jason reaches over to take away his laptop, shoving it underneath the couch to hide it in case Tim wakes up and decides to actually do some work. What an absolute nerd. And then because he looks cold, he grabs an extra blanket from the closet and drapes it roughly over Tim.
Dick's giving him a fond look when he sits back down on the couch, and Jason firmly tries to pretend his ears aren't turning red from embarrassment. He sags into the couch and tries to focus on the movie.
"Hey Dick?"
Dick hums, glancing over. It takes Jason a hot second to realize that everyone else has fallen asleep: Damian curled into Dick like he belongs at his side, Steph sprawled over most of the floor, and Cass tucked into a ball next to Tim's armchair.
"Why's everyone here?"
There's a long exhale. "Damian and Bruce got into a fight," he begins, "but for once I don't think it was Bruce's fault. Then Steph came, she needed help writing an essay for her Russian Lit class."
Jason blinks. "She's taking Russian Lit? I didn't know that was a possibility."
Dick huffs a quiet laugh, "she chose it 'cuz she knew I spoke Russian and knew I would help her."
He smiles. That sounds exactly like Steph. "Cass?" he prompts.
Dick's smile disappears. "I-I think it's just been a long week for her."
There's no more explanation, but Jason doesn't expect one. There's a reason Dick has a full drawer dedicated to him, and why he knows Dick's kitchen better than the man himself does. Jason could've gone somewhere with Roy or Kori, or he could've gone to the Manor. Hell, he could've sucked it up until his body inevitably shut down for eighteen hours. But he didn't.
And deep down, he's always known why. Dick is their older brother. And that's enough for Jason, and apparently, it's enough for the others.
"I'm tired," he whispers, the words slipping out without his permission.
Dick's eyes soften, and he lifts the arm close to Jason invitingly. "Then go to sleep, Jay. We'll be here when you wake up."
Sure, Jason wakes up to Tim choking on Rice Krispies way too early for his personal liking, but he slept through the night. And Dick was right- they are there when he wakes up. Even if Steph forces him to play Mario Kart with them after breakfast, where he gets twelfth place consistently, and even when Damian continues to use slang Jason's never heard of (much to everyone else's amusement).
They leave that afternoon. Dick's talked to Damian in the bedroom, grammar-checked Steph's essay, and given Cass a hug that lasted so long Jason felt personally uncomfortable. Then he called Alfred and personally escorted Tim out of the building into Alfred's car.
Jason's debating leaving when Dick gets back, eyes brighter than last night. The rain stopped overnight, leaving the city a soaking wet mess, but the storm has finally passed.
"Well, I think I'll be headin' out too," Jason announces when they're done watching two episodes of The British Baking Show.
Dick looks positively flabbergasted, as if he wasn't expecting Jason to leave. "What? But you just got here last night!"
He rolls his eyes. "It's only an hour's drive, Dickhead, and traffic won't be bad. 'Sides, I'm sharing your parking spot."
"Wait, what? Nevermind. You can't leave, we have three more episodes to the season finale. Besides, I was thinking of ordering pizza tonight."
It's not phrased as a question, but Jason hears one anyway.
"Oh alright, fine. Only if we get-"
"Supreme. I know, Jay," and then Dick is pulling him into a hug, squeezing tight, and normally Jason would complain loudly before easing his way out, but today he just... lets it happen. Dick is okay. So everyone else is okay, and-
Jason is okay, too.