Chapter Text
Tim sighed as he finally gave into the rain pattering against his domino, limiting his visibility. He had been looking for traces of a shipment of missing guns and had lost track of the suspected smuggler a few blocks back. He brought a hand to his gauntlet, activating his comm. “Red Robin signing off. Limited visibility on case tracking. Will resume on next patrol.”
He waited only a moment before hearing a response from Batman, “Copy. Good work tonight.”
Tim rolled his eyes to himself. He did good work every night, he didn’t need Bruce to validate him. He swung towards his current safe house, dodging eyes and cameras subconsciously as he went. He knew in theory that he didn’t need to hide from O or the Batnetwork, but he had never shaken his paranoia after his boundaries had been crossed so many times.
As he stepped through the sliding door of a narrow balcony, he froze, sensing something had shifted while he was gone. Tim narrowed his eyes, sweeping the area for bugs, finding one tucked within the shade of a table lamp. He huffed, crushing the piece of technology in half an instant. Ra’s or Bruce. Either answer was nothing more than a test of his observation skills. He swept the barren living room with suspicion. The empty coffee mugs and takeout containers looked like he had left them, and his laptop had three levels of encryption that would’ve alarmed if someone other than Tim had tried to access it.
He calculated the odds of his intruder having malicious intent with a frown, inching towards the kitchen with silent steps to start another sweep. Clear. Same with the bathroom and bedroom of the small apartment. He hadn’t done anything recently to warrant either of them testing him, so he began a mental list of other options before he wrote off the transmitter entirely. He recalculated the odds with this new information, ultimately deciding the risk wasn’t high enough to trash this safe house and move on to the next quite yet, but recognizing there were several others that had been trained in the same surveillance techniques that Bruce or Ra’s would use.
Tim moved to the bedroom, thoughts still on his intruder as he stripped out of his suit and grabbed a change of clothes for a shower. He groaned internally at his luck, likely having to deep clean the safe house so he didn’t get sick from being caught in the rain. He’d gotten used to not having a spleen the past few years at this point, but that didn’t mean he had to test his immune system intentionally.
As he showered and absentmindedly dressed, he ran through the options for the intruder once again. Dick was on an off world mission for the Justice League for at least a few more weeks. Damian thought anything regarding ‘the interloper’ was beneath his notice. Steph or Duke wouldn’t mess with Tim like that, and probably didn’t know where his safe houses were simply because they didn’t seem to care about details like that. Cass and Tim had an understanding, so she would never plant a bug without leaving some sort of sign for him to recognize it was her, and she would really only do so at Bruce’s insistence.
The more Tim thought about it, the more he considered if it was the League. Pru still tried to keep him updated on their movements, and coming to Gotham was definitely large enough for her to warn him about, so he reluctantly crossed Ra’s off the list. That really only left Bruce, or-
Or Jason was back in town.
—
Jason was pissed. His guys had a gun shipment stolen out from under them, which warranted him coming back to Gotham finally. He had been almost happy with the Outlaws. Roy and Kori kept him level headed and they had been doing good work. He kept his gang running to fund the thankless missions, but that only worked when they didn’t lose the goods.
On top of that, he had packed up to hit the next safe house in his rotation only to find it already occupied. He had been gone for a good year or so, but he still owned the apartment, damnit. Whoever was staying there must’ve been someone real smart or real stupid to squat at a place that belonged to Red Hood on paper. He couldn’t decide if he was more annoyed or impressed by the audacity.
Jason had left a bug to confirm his suspicions, but it really only could have been a few bat-shaped options. Of course the transmitter cut out after only a few hours, not picking up a single voice or a comm wavelength. He could just ask someone about it, but the only person he’d talk to willingly would be Dickie, and Kori had mentioned her boyfriend was off-world. God knew how short his fuse would be if he had to speak with Bruce instead.
He glared at the offending empty dresser in his back-up back-up safe house, dumping his duffel contents into it haphazardly. The sooner he found his missing goods, the sooner Kori could come pick him up.
—
Tim groaned as his hidden camera feeds confirmed Red Hood’s presence in the safe house. The last thing he needed was a gun-toting asshole out to get him. He closed his laptop with more force than necessary, scrolling to the number Jason had given the bats ‘for life or death emergencies only’ and hit call. It rang for a full ten seconds before Jason picked up.
“Who is it?”
“Sorry for snagging your safe house,” Tim said with a grimace.
“Is that you, Replacement? Why am I not surprised.”
Tim frowned, hearing a slew of curses in the background. “I’ll need a few days to clear out. I’m in the middle of a case.”
“Fuckin- dammit. I’m goin’ there now. The fuckin’ water heater here is busted. It’s what I get for lettin’ goons do repairs.”
“I- okay.” Tim blinked as the line cut out. He stared into space, processing the fact he was going to be alone in a room with Jason Todd, Red Hood, probably for the first time since their run in at the Titans tower back when Tim was still Robin. He ran the probability of needing to make a quick escape, his fight or flight instincts flaring aggressively. He smothered the nonsensical thought to attack first, taking deep breaths to rationalize his thoughts.
Tim was no longer Robin. Jason Todd had no reason to kill him. Tim was trained by some of the best martial artists on the planet. He knew all of the weak points in Red Hood’s armor. Jason hadn’t threatened him in years. If he could outsmart some of the brightest minds in the world, he could outsmart Jason Todd and get away.
Tim picked apart the different facts, filing away each behind an impassive mask until his breathing was back under control. He needed to be in control of his thoughts if he was going to face Jason again.
The balcony door sliding open pulled Tim from his meditative state. Jason Todd stepped through, closing the door behind him and kicking off his wet boots in one swift motion. He pressed several spots on his helmet, which Tim immediately took note of, and a moment later he was peeling off the domino beneath it as well. Tim stood silently, moving to pull a towel out of the bathroom and hovering just out of Jason’s reach. The rain must’ve picked up a good amount after Tim returned.
Jason paused from where he was stripping off his waterlogged armor, taking notice of Tim finally. He eyed the outstretched hand with a raised brow, taking the towel without a word. It seemed neither man wanted to break the silence quite yet.
Tim’s hands twitched with aborted movements, eventually moving to gather the discarded coffee mugs scattered around the living room area in an attempt to keep busy. Throughout the years, his hands would twitch intermittently in times of high stress, a leftover from his time being tortured by the Joker in his first year as Robin. Involuntary electroshock therapy he had told Leslie. He eventually learned that she wouldn’t clear him for field work again if he made light of his trauma without processing it properly and ‘made an effort’ to get better. If anyone ever noticed before, they had been polite enough to not mention the twitching. Just another reason for Tim to lock his emotions in boxes and sink them in a river. He wasn’t surprised that Jason Todd triggered his stress responses though.
Tim took the old coffee mugs to the kitchen sink, starting to wash them while keeping Jason in the corner of his eye. He wanted to give off an air of nonchalance, but not at the cost of his safety.
Jason said nothing, stripping off his outer layers and hanging them in the closet by the front door. He didn’t know how to feel about the way Tim moved through his safe house, obviously familiar with the layout, but cautious all the same, like how fighting some rogues felt predictable, but they were still dangerous. Jason sighed, hefting his duffel over his shoulder and finally breaking his silence, “Hope ya like sharin’ a bed, because I am not stayin’ on that ratty couch.”
Tim paused, “I can take the couch. It’s your safe house.”
Jason shrugged, “Whatever ya want Replacement. I’m showerin’.” He could see Tim tense minutely and then offer a small nod in response.
When Jason left the room, Tim took a deep breath. Jason seemed to be letting his transgressions go, which Tim was not going to take for granted. He would clear out after this gun shipment case, and if they didn’t talk about the larger man slitting his throat while they cohabitated, Tim would be all the better for it. Belatedly, Tim sent a text to Tam asking her to schedule an appointment with his therapist. He could do it himself, but looping her in when he ‘practiced good self-help’ kept her from worrying too much about him. He could hear Jason’s heavy footfalls pause in the bedroom, and he quickly moved to follow the noise, recognizing another hang up with sharing the safe house.
“Sorry,” Tim said immediately upon entering the bedroom, instantly shoving his stuff aside in the closet and combining the dresser contents to clear out half the drawers.
Jason raised an eyebrow once again at the speed in which Tim moved, not admitting he was impressed by the other’s silent approach. He also noticed Tim cracking a large safe, entering Jason’s own birthday and tossing all his discarded Red Robin memorabilia into it. “You’ve been here a while, huh, Replacement?” He had to have, to have settled in so much.
Tim paused, face unreadable. He nodded and left silently once again, making a note to organize his stuff better after the other man got in the shower. He internally adjusted his calculations on the probability of his impending doom for every interaction they had that wasn’t entirely negative.
Still, he cursed himself for thinking that using an apartment registered to Jason Todd would keep Bruce, Barbara, and Dick out of his business on the sole threat of gun violence.
He resumed washing dishes; mugs and random silverware making their way to their designated cabinets and drawers for the first time in weeks. He listened as the shower started, and silently crept back into the bedroom to organize the drawers he had hastily packed full. Once his side quest was completed, Tim returned to the living room and cracked open his laptop once again to reread his case notes on the missing gun shipment, adding the night’s notes as he went.
After the shower stopped, Tim was acutely aware of every movement he could hear, sensing Jason’s presence in the living room without looking to confirm. The larger man glanced at Tim’s screen, narrowing in on a picture of a familiar warehouse.
“You lookin’ for the guns too, Replacement?” Jason asked with a frown.
Tim blinked, his attention snapping to Jason, who was now leaning close. His anxiety screamed at him to smash the man’s skull and escape the close proximity, which manifested as a small grimace on his face.
Jason took the look on his face as confirmation, going back to the bedroom to pull out his own laptop. “We can compare notes.”
Tim froze as Jason settled next to him on the couch, leaning back and kicking his bare feet up on the table. He cleared his throat, “It’s your shipment?”
Jason scowled at his screen, “It was fuckin supposed to be. Got stolen out from under my guys.”
Tim hummed in acknowledgment. Bruce definitely didn’t know Red Hood was still operating in Gotham. He leaned back into the couch gingerly next to the larger man so he could see both laptop screens better. He wasn’t surprised to see a similar case formatting on both screens. Once a Robin, always a Robin.
They compared and contrasted their case notes for the next hour or so, filling in each other’s blanks. Within two, they had a solid lead. Red Hood likely had a rat that was being paid off.
Jason glared at their list of potential culprits, “They probably thought with Red Hood outta town they’d get away with pulling some shit.”
Tim closed his laptop, “I can tail someone tomorrow while you get another, and we can work our way down the list.”
Jason grunted in agreement, standing to stretch his back. As he raised his arms high above his head, his shirt lifted and Tim caught a flash of his bisecting autopsy scar. He looked away quickly, pulling out his phone to order Thai food.
“Ya know if you’re lookin’ for work, Red Hood could use someone with a mind like yours keepin’ an eye on things,” Jason said conversationally. “It would’ve taken me another week to get to this point on my own.”
Tim blinked at the unexpected offer, playing it off, “Does it come with good health insurance?”
Jason snorted, “For you Replacement, I think I could make that happen.”
Tim hummed, choosing not to read into the comment. He looked away, clearing his throat, “I ordered food.” He started compiling the data points to figure out the probability that it was a serious offer while also recalculating the probability of a pending attack. His survival odds were looking much better than at the beginning of the night.
Jason nodded, moving to put his laptop away. He came back out yawning, “When’s the food get here?”
Tim checked his order information, “Twenty-five minutes?” He turned on the television to a random action movie and the two watched while they waited for food.
Ten minutes later, Tim got a call from Bruce.
Jason watched as a slew of emotions passed over Tim’s face before it fell into something completely expressionless. “Hey B,” Tim said neutrally, side-eyeing Jason.
“Red Hood was spotted in Gotham today.”
“Jason’s back?” Tim asked lightly. “Any idea what he’s after?” Jason muted the action movie and stilled, trying to hear both sides of the conversation.
“No.”
“Okay, I guess I can keep an eye out then.” Tim said blandly, eyes darting to the green glint in Jason’s eye.
“Tim, if you don’t feel safe, your room at the manor will be here for you.” Bruce said after an awkward pause.
Tim cleared his throat, rubbing the scar along the back of his neck gently, “I don’t think he’s after me this time, it’s been pretty long.”
“Still. Watch your back, we don’t know what he’s doing yet.”
“Thanks for the heads up.” Tim replied, hanging up before Bruce could get another word in.
Jason shifted subtly, uncomfortably aware that Tim had just covered for him. He had caught both sides of the conversation and had somehow completely forgotten that he had brutally attacked the guy sitting next to him. No wonder Tim seemed on edge. “I never even apologized, did I?” Jason mumbled to himself.
Tim froze for a long moment, catching Jason’s words but choosing not to mention them. He reached slowly for the tv remote and unmuted the movie.
A few minutes later, Jason huffed and turned the tv off entirely. “Replacement- Tim. I’m sorry,” he said seriously.
Tim grimaced, “I’d rather not talk about this. I can only see my therapist so often.” He’s pretty sure when he told Leslie he had a sleepover with his almost murder, she would dryly ask which one and then hit him with a clipboard or something. He boxed up the impending panic and threw that down the river, as well as the desire to laugh at the fact that Jason seemed to have forgotten the one thing that defined Tim’s career as Robin.
Jason frowned, “We don’t have to talk about it, but I am sorry.”
Tim swallowed heavily, “Okay. Apology accepted.” He took a moment to do breathing exercises, which Jason seemed to unconsciously match. He must’ve gone to therapy too at some point.
Jason’s shoulders stayed tense, but the green glint left his eyes. He scooted a few inches away from Tim on the couch, though he didn’t know if it was more for his comfort or Tim’s. “So how long have you been seein’ a therapist?” Jason asked faux-casually. “I thought bats and birds were allergic to self-help.”
“I am.” Tim said dryly, causing Jason to snort a laugh. “Uh, I’ve gone on and off since my first year as Robin,” he admitted, struggling for a second to keep the neutrality in his voice.
Jason blinked, doing the math. “Since before I came back?”
“Yeah.” Tim said shortly, the tremors returning to his hands briefly. “A lot of stuff happened. A lot of stuff always seems to be happening though.” He worked through his breathing exercises again, hating the fact that Bruce brought the Joker back to life after all that he put every Robin and Batgirl through.
Jason took in the expressionless face and dull eyes, clearing his throat. “I’ve been goin’ since I left Gotham. It took a while to find someone I trusted.”
Tim smiled sardonically to himself. He certainly didn’t trust Leslie. He didn’t trust anyone in his life, which probably meant the therapy wasn’t working entirely. As long as it let him keep helping people, it was good enough. “Good for you,” he said eventually. They sat in silence for another few minutes until Tim got another call. “Food’s here,” he said, standing swiftly to retrieve it.
Jason nodded, turning the movie back on as Tim left the apartment.