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If you asked Tim, he'd say this isn't fair because he shouldn't need to work with someone who has tried to kill him multiple fucking times. If you asked Jason, he'd say this isn't fair because he shouldn't need to work with a pathetic replacement. Unfortunately for both of them, the case Tim had been solo-ing intertwined with the case Jason had taken under his wing without telling anyone (which isn't unusual, Jason does whatever the hell he wants, and it irks Tim to no end).
Perhaps things would’ve been easier if they’d both known of each other’s involvement before the fight had begun. At least then they could’ve agreed to some sort of battle strategy that didn’t end with a mid-fight argument. No—actually it ended with an empty suit lying crumpled on the ground and a shocked Jason wondering what the fuck just happened.
The up-and-coming rogue looked at his hands in awe before making eye contact with Jason and grinning, “Holy shit that worked! I mean, of course it worked. See ya later, bucket head.” Jason was too shocked by the empty Red Robin suit to chase after him. His first thought was “B is going to kill me if I let Replacement get vaporized” and his second thought was “Bucket head?”. A little thought in the back of his head spoke,
It would be your fault since he pushed you out of the way, ya know.
Shaking that thought away, he strode towards Red Robins suit and lifted it up. It… it wasn’t empty. What the fuck? A medium-sized dog lifted his head from where he lay and barked—startled not just Jason, but apparently himself too—as he jumped back. Before Jason could do anything, the dog jumped up and started looking at his chest and back in a panicked state. He began to howl and bark at Jason like crazy.
“How did you get under there, little guy?” Jason crouched down and put his hand out for the dog to smell but he just kept barking. Jason began to look around, “Replacement? The fuck you go, asshole?” before muttering under his breath, “If you’re dead I’m gonna fucking kill you”.
If dogs could roll their eyes, he was sure this one tried to. He leaned down and picked the other half of his suit up with his mouth and pawed at Jason.
Jason has seen a lot in his lifetime, okay? His mom’s overdose, the Joker beating the ever-living fuck out of him, the mountainous bodies he’s left behind, a broken child on the floor with a slit throat—
No. Don’t think about that, goddamn it. Focus!
What he hadn’t seen before—until now—was his replacement in a dog’s body. He inhaled a shuttering breath.
“Oh shit. Replacement… that you in there?”
The dog—no, Tim—immediately dropped the suit and gave a little nod, ears flopping up and down. Damn, that was adorable. Not that Jason would ever tell him that.
Scooping the suit into his arms, Jason stood.
“C’mon, Replacement. I’ve got a safe house nearby. Off the Bats radar, so you best keep your trap shut about it,” he said, pausing with a smirk. “Not that you’d be able to say anything right now.”
Tim growled but padded alongside him as they walked down the sidewalk of Crime Alley.
For the first time, Tim saw how loved Red Hood was in this side of town. Despite the late hour, people still walked the streets—mostly working girls and people up to no good.
As they passed a bar, a high-pitched voice called out:
“Heya, hun! Where ya been? Ruby wanted me to than—hun, did you get yourself a doggy?”
Jason froze. “Hey, Bunny… err, Replacement. Bunny. Bunny, Replacement,” he introduced. Tim gave him a level look—was he supposed to shake her hand?
“Don’t be rude, go say hello,” Jason said, holding out a hand toward her.
Tim lunged and bit it. Jason yanked it away, placing it near his chest with, no doubt, a pout under the helmet. Tim then approached Bunny and nuzzled her outstretched hand. She immediately started scratching behind his ears, and that was the end of his thoughts. Scratches—everything else could wait.
He almost whimpered when she pulled away. Jason said his goodbyes and led him behind a building to a latched basement door.
Ah shit, is he going to kill me?
No. If Jason wanted him dead, he’d have left him in the alley to fend for himself.
“Doggies first,” Jason said, standing aside after opening the door. Tim growled and kicked him with a hind leg before padding down the stairs.
“Hey, I could still take you to the pound, ya little shit. Let’s see how long you last with the street dogs, rich boy.”
Empty threats, Tim knew—but still, the thought made him shiver.
The safehouse wasn’t bad for a basement. Carpeted floor, stocked kitchen with canned goods, silverware, pans—the works. A queen-sized bed—because even vigilantes need their beauty sleep—sat under an absurd number of pillows and blankets. Couch and TV made it feel genuinely homey. Only downside? No windows. It made him feel very claustrophobic. Not that he could relay that to Jason.
Tim stayed standing near the stairway while Jason brushed past him, tossing his helmet onto the couch and systematically taking off his armor, leaving only his tight pants and black t-shirt. Noticing Tim standing like a statue, he raised a brow, “You gonna stand there all night?”
While Jason pulled out Alfred’s leftovers, Tim jumped up on the couch. “Hey! No dogs on the couch, damn it!” Tim glared at Jason before sitting down and putting his chin on the back of the couch to watch him cook.
Jason rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about rude mutts. “Bad dogs get kibble, not people food. You better behave, mutt.” He pointed at Tim with a spoon.
Tim stuck his tongue out in response and to his surprise, Jason released a chuckle.
He put his bowl on the table and Tim’s on the floor. One look at Tim and he immediately felt bad. Why the fuck do I feel bad? It’s not my fault the fucker got turned into a dog. He sighed, Yeah, dumbass, it is. “You’re weaponizing those eyes, y’know?” That only made Tim pout more.
“Fine! Fucking mutt.” He huffed, putting Tims bowl on the coffee table and pulled it closer to the couch. It caused Jason to need to sit cross-legged because there was no room for his legs. Tim began to howl as a response. Is that supposed to be a thank you?
“Um. You’re welcome?” He clapped his hands together, startling Tim, “What are we watching? Love Island just came out with a new episode, and I swear if Huda and Jeremiah break up, I will fly to Fiji and attack them.”
Tim just stared at him.
“What? A guy can’t enjoy a show about rich people being total hoes and smooching each other left and right? Piss off.”
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“I’m going to Fiji...”
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Jason put his bowl down — his third one — and jumped a little when he felt Tim lay his head on his thigh. Unsure of what to do, he slowly lowered his hand on top of Tim’s head and scratched his ears.
“Alright, alright. Enough cuddling, mutt, I need a shower.” Jason grunted, causing Tim to whine as he lifted his head from Jason’s thigh. “Piss on the floor and I’ll skin you alive.”
Jason made his way to the bathroom and realized Tim was following him. Jason slowly turned, narrowing his eyes.
Tim simply blinked at him.
“Boundaries, Replacement. Learn ‘em.” He pointed down the hallway. “Go. Shoo.”
Tim growled, brushing past Jason and laid outside the bathroom, blocking the door. “Ohm that’s mature.” He nudged Tim lightly with his foot. “Move.”
Tim huffed but didn’t budge. Jason simply rolled his eyes and stepped over him before practically slamming the door in Tims face.
He turned the water on, waiting for it to turn hot.
“Oh my god.”
More scratching followed by a low whine. Jason aggressively ignored it while yanking his shirt over his head.
Scratch scratch scratch.
“Replacement, I swear to —” He groaned as Tim whined louder. He opened the door halfway and snapped, “What?”
Tim immediately pushed past his legs and walked into the bathroom like he owned the place.
“God, you’re such a little asshole.”
Tim circled once before laying down directly on the bathmat with a dramatic sigh.
Jason stared.
Tim stared back.
“...You just wanted in here?”
Tim rested his head on his paws.
“You’re the clingiest dog I’ve ever met.” He sighed.
Tim’s tail thumped against the tile once.
Jason pointed at him. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this weird.”
He undressed quickly, pointedly ignoring the way Tim kept watching him from the bathmat.
“Quit staring, creep.”
Tim huffed.
It wasn’t like this was new. The showers in the Cave were communal half the time after patrol, especially when Dick decided personal space was a myth. Still, something about having Tim silently sitting there in a dog’s body while Jason showered felt deeply bizarre.
“This is rock bottom,” Jason informed the ceiling.
He stepped out the shower only 5 minutes later, used to short showers. Wrapping himself in the towel, he exited the bathroom with Tim at his heels. The damn mutt followed close by, sitting and waiting patiently as Jason got dressed in sweatpants and an old Gotham Knights tee shirt.
He glanced at his phone as it lit up on the coffee table like a damn Christmas tree.
One glance had him groaning in annoyance.
Barbara:
Is Tim with you? He never came home after patrol.
Jason:
I’m asleep.
Barbara:
No, you’re not.
Jason sighed, looking at Tim as he stared back, tongue hanging out and tail wagging.
Jason:
He’s with me. Staying the night. Long story. Txt you tomorrow, k?
Barbara:
B wants the report as soon as you wake up.
Jason rolled his eyes, throwing the phone on the couch. “Alright, I’m going to bed. Do whatever dogs do, I guess. Just don’t wake me up.” He grumbled, walking toward his bedroom, leaving the door cracked in case something happened.
He only laid there for 10 minutes before he heard the door creak open and a pressure make itself known on the bed. He closed his eyes in annoyance, glancing over his shoulder to see Tim standing on the bed looking at him with those damn doggy eyes.
Tim began to circle aggressively like he was preparing to settle in the winter.
“Absolutely not, mutt.”
Tim ignored him and continued circling.
“No dogs allowed the bed either. Non-negotiable.”
Tim flopped down directly against Jason’s side with a dramatic sigh.
Jason turned his head back towards the wall and just stared. “Why are you so fucking clingy?”
Tim made a soft grumbling noise and shoved his nose under Jason’s arm.
Jason froze. Christ, this is sad. He didn’t understand Tim’s actions, the little shit spent years acting like he didn’t need anybody and now that he’s a dog, he’s suddenly attached to Jason’s hip like they were in some fucked-up Disney movie. If I’m Snow White, he’s the stupid fucking bird that never fucks off.
“If you shed on my pillow, I’m selling you on Craigslist.”
Tim’s tail thumped against the mattress.
“Whatever, go to sleep mutt.”
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Jason woke up to a wet nose aggressively jamming itself into his cheek.
He groaned and shoved at it blindly. “Five more minutes, Alfred.”
A sharp bark exploded directly into his ear. Jason jerked awake with a strangled yell, nearly falling off the bed before remembering why there was a dog in his personal space to begin with.
Tim stood on the mattress staring at him intensely, tail wagging in short frantic movements.
“Replacement,” Jason rasped, voice rough with sleep, “if this is revenge for calling you clingy, I’m putting you down.”
Tim barked again and hopped off the bed immediately, pacing toward the stairs.
Jason blinked. Then it clicked. “Oh. Oh, you gotta piss.”
Tim barked louder.
“Okay, damn! I’m getting up!”
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“I’m selling you on Craigslist, B-T-Dubs. Don’t think I didn’t notice the fur on my pillow.”
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Crime Alley was quiet. Afterall, most crime happened between 10pm and 4am. It was now 6am and even criminals need their beauty sleep.
He was dressed in his nighttime clothes, not caring about looking presentable outside. Besides, no one sane was up at butt-fuck 6 o-clock.
Tim trotted beside him with surprisingly patient right up until Jason stopped paying attention for half a second then took off towards a patch of grass. Once finished, Tim trotted back to Jason looking significantly less miserable.
Jason sighed and rubbed at his face. “Okay. New problem.”
Tim’s ears perked.
“You can’t exactly bark out words.” He tapped his chin then grinned.
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“Sir, no dogs allowed in the store.” The tired worker told Jason.
He glances down at Tim, who was somehow glaring at the employee. He shrugged, “Mutt’s got a mind of his own. Refuses to stay outside. Besides, I need his opinion on what to get.”
The employee blinked slowly before muttering, “I don’t get paid enough to care.”
After thirty minutes of indecisiveness, Tim pawed at the customizable buttons, and Jason looked at the price tag. He glared at Tim, “You’re paying me back for this.”
They left, leaving the employee thoroughly confused.
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Twenty minutes later, the buttons sat spread across the floor.
OUTSIDE.
FOOD.
WATER.
HELP.
And one blank button.
Tim eyed it suspiciously while Jason crouched beside it and spoke the words.
He got up and put his hands on his hips like he was looking over his kingdom.
“Want your kibble now?”
Tim presses the button, “Fuck off.”
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Jason gave Barbara a short explanation over text and ignored her multiple question marks. They arrived at the Batcave and Tim trotted beside Jason, wearing a bulletproof vest with the button clipped low so he could reach it.
“OH MY GOD HE’S WEARING A LITTLE VEST.” Dick yelled.
“It’s tactical.” Jason murmured.
Dick was already halfway across the room at terrifying speed. “TIMMY!”
Tim’s ears flattened.
“Don’t you fucking dare —”
Too late. Dick dropped to his knees in front of Tim and grabbed his face dramatically. “Who did this to my baby brother?”
Tim responded by smashing one paw onto the button, “Fuck off.”
The Cave exploded.
Barbara, who just had to come see this, burst out laughing. Alfred actually chuckled, not bothering to say his usual ‘language, master Tim.’ Even Bruce seems dangerously close to smiling.
Dick gasped, “Jason taught him swears!”
“C’mon, dumbass, it’s not like he didn’t already know them.”
Damian approached with slow seriousness of someone examining a particularly strange insect. Titus padded behind him curiously.
Tim immediately perked up at the sight of Titus but his ears went back as Damian crouched a few feet in front of him. “Drake.”
Tim stared back flatly.
“You appear slightly less irritating this way.”
Tim hit the button again. “Fuck off.”
Jason barked out a laugh, loud enough to echo through the Cave. “Oh, that one’s staying forever.”
Bruce stepped forward before Damian could retaliate. “Zatanna confirmed it’s magical.”
Jason’s grin faded slightly. “And?”
Bruce sighed. “And she’s off-world dealing with another situation. She said she can help, but won’t be back for at least a week.”
A week.
Tim’s ears lowered.
Jason felt something uncomfortable twist in his chest at the sight.
Dick immediately crouched beside Tim and scratched behind his ears. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.”
Tim leaned into it automatically before freezing, noticing almost everyone was coo-ing at him.
“Until Zatanna returns, Tim should remain at the Manor where we can monitor him properly.”
Jason frowned. He knows that tone. That’s not Brucie Wayne talking. It’s Batman. He left no room for arguments. Jason crossed his arms.
“It makes sense, Jason. Your place is a windowless basement in Crime Alley.” Barbara noted.
“It’s cozy.”
“It smells like gunpowder and wet dog.”
“FIrst off, rude.”
“Second off,” Damian cut in, “Drake needs to remain here. Titus and I are far more qualified to care for a canine.”
Jason scoffed, “You think of yourself as a dog-whisperer?”
Damian raised a brow, looking at Jason judgmentally. “I trained Titus personally.” He rested a hand proudly on the Great Dane beside him. “Unlike you, Todd, I possess discipline.”
“Yeah? Well Tim likes me better.”
Tim looked between them like he couldn’t believe this conversation was real.
Dick, meanwhile, looked one second away from crying laughing. “Are you two having a custody battle over Tim?”
“No,” Jason and Damian snapped.
“Drake. Come.” Damian stood up.
Tim didn’t move.
Jason smirked immediately. “Ouch.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “Drake.”
Tim slowly stood.
Jason straightened slightly without meaning to.
Tim trotted right past Damian and sat directly at Jason’s leg.
Silence.
Jason looked unbearably smug.
Dick actually collapsed against the Batcomputer laughing. “HE PICKED JASON.”
“This proves nothing,” Damian hissed.
Tim pressed the button one more time. “Fuck off.”
Bruce shook his head. “Enough. Tim’s staying.”
His decision settled like a weight in the Cave and Jason sighed. “Whatever. Not my problem anymore.”
Tim actually whined at that. Jason looked at him and grimaced. “I-I can stay the week. Make sure Damian doesn’t turn him into a full dog.”
Alfred cleared his throat gently. “Shall I prepare the East wing?”
Dick perked up. “Oh! I’ll help — he’ll need toys, right? Dogs need toys. Tim, buddy, you like toys?”
Tim slowly turned his head toward him.
Then pressed the button.
Jason chuckled. “Never gets old.”
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They lead Tim to his room on the east side — already prepped like Bruce had expected this outcome from the start. A thick rug now sat in the center and a water bowl was filled.
Tim walked in slowly. Sniffed once, and started circling.
Jason leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. “Congratulations. You’ve got a room.”
Tim didn’t respond, he just kept moving around it.
Dick hovered in the hall. “He’ll be okay, right?”
“He’s a dog,” Jason said flatly. “He’ll survive.”
Eventually, Tim flopped down in the middle of the rug. No protest. No argument. No following.
Jason’s throat closed up. “...Right. Anyway, I’m out.”
Damian immediately frowned. “You are leaving him?”
“He has a room, Demon Brat.” Jason said. “Congratulations again, by the way.”
Tim didn’t move when Jason turned to go.
Didn’t follow.
Didn’t even look up.
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Jason ended up in the living room later. He was cleaning his gear out of habit, gloves laid on the table, weapons checked and re-checked even though nothing happened all day.
The Manor was quiet enough that he could hear the clock ticking.
Then —
Patter.
Soft.
There was a pause and Jason didn’t look up right away.
More steps.
He sighed, “Damian, I swear to —” He paused. It wasn’t Damian. Tim stood in the doorway. “What’re you doin’?”
Tim didn’t answer.
He didn’t move away either.
Jason sat back slightly. “You’ve got a room. Go to bed.”
A beat. Tim stayed where he was. Then slowly walked in, crossing the room and sitting down by Jason's feet. He laid his head on the couch cushion, looking at Jason with his cute doggy eyes.
Jason blinked. “...You left.” He said quietly.
Tim flicked an ear.
Jason huffed a short laugh, but it wasn’t really amused. “Yeah. Okay. Sure, whatever.”
He went back to cleaning his gear.
Tim didn’t move once; he just sat there watching Jason work.
This went on for the next half hour and Jason finally got up, stretched and muttered a “Goodnight, mutt.”
He didn’t notice Tim following him at first.
He was halfway through the hallway, rubbing a hand down his face, already mentally cataloging everything he needed to fix tomorrow—rogue, case files, Bruce’s inevitable “we need to talk” speech—
Then he heard it.
Patter.
Soft, steady. And behind him. Jason slowed down and the footsteped slowed too.
He turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Your room is that way, dumbass.” He pointed toward the middle of the hallway, but Tim just stood there with his head tilted and ears forward like he was waiting for instructions Jason hadn’t given.
Tim brushed past Jason and trotted into his bedroom like he owned it. Jason watched, wide-mouthed, and muttered a quiet, “What the fuck?”
He followed behind, “Mutt, you’ve got your own room. Shoo.” He silently prayed that Tim would ignore his request and lo-and-behold; he did.
Jason’s room was clean. He hadn’t slept in it for months. Kicking the door shut behind him, he stripped his clothes off and changed into a pair of sweatpants.
Tim immediately hopped up on the bed and waited for Jason to climb into the covers. He shook his head, still in disbelief that this was happening.
“I don’t understand why you’re in here... you’ve got your own room.”
Tim stayed quiet. He laid his head on Jason's chest and closed his eyes.
Jason put his hand through Tim’s fur and closed his eyes too.
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Jason was halfway into pretending he was still asleep when Alfred knocked.
A clean, precise sound against the doorframe. Not loud. No invasive. Just... present.
“Master Jason,” Alfred said from the other side, “Breakfast will be ready shortly.”
Jason didn’t answer.
Because he had a problem. A warn, breathing, very stubborn problem currently pressed against his side.
Tim made a soft noise in his sleep and shifted closer. Jason stared at the ceiling like it had betrayed him. “...Yeah.” He called back. “Got it.”
A pause.
Alfred didn’t move.
Jason felt it immediately—that quiet shift in attention. Like Alfred had stopped being politely distant and started observing.
“…Is everything alright?” Alfred asked.
Jason cleared his throat. “Fine.”
Tim snorted softly in his sleep.
Jason closed his eyes.
“…Everything is fine,” he repeated, slower.
The door opened anyway.
Of course it did.
Alfred stepped inside without rushing, as if nothing in this world could possibly justify rushing. He took in the room in one glance.
The bed.
Jason.
The dog-shaped lump currently using Jason’s side as a personal anchor.
Alfred didn’t react immediately either. That was somehow worse.
Then, very calmly:,“I see.”
Jason sighed. “Don’t start.”
Alfred’s gaze moved from Tim to Jason’s arm—still half-trapped under a sleeping paw.
“I wasn’t aware,” Alfred said, tone even, “that Master Timothy’s condition included nocturnal dependency.”
Jason rubbed a hand over his face. “It doesn’t.”
Tim made another small sound and shoved his face deeper into Jason’s chest like Alfred was personally ruining his morning.
Alfred folded his hands behind his back.
“I see,” he repeated.
Jason opened one eye. “You already said that.”
A pause.
Then Alfred, gently, “Shall I prepare a second bed in your room, Master Jason? Or would you prefer I simply leave this arrangement… as it is?”
Jason stared at him.
That was the moment he realized he had no good answer. “...It’s temporary.”
Alfred nodded once. “Of course.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that tone.”
Alfred’s expression remained perfectly composed. “What tone, sir?”
“The one where you already think I’ve adopted him.”
Tim snored.
Alfred looked down at him again. “I would never presume such a thing,” he said politely.
Jason did not believe him for a second.
Alfred turned toward the door. “Breakfast will be served in twenty minutes,” he added. A beat. “I will ensure Master Timothy has something suitable.”
Jason groaned. “He eats whatever I eat.”
“I see,” Alfred said again. And then, after a pause just long enough to be deliberate, “Shall I set a place for him as well?”
Jason threw a pillow at the door after he left.
It didn’t help.
Behind him, Tim shifted closer like nothing in the world had changed at all.
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It happened later than anyone expected.
Jason was mid-argument with Dick about something completely unrelated when Tim suddenly stood up.
No warning. Just ears up, pacing once, then heading straight for the door.
Jason frowned. “Where are you going?”
Tim didn’t answer. He just stared at the door like it had personally offended his bladder.
“…Oh,” Jason realized. “Right. Yeah. Go.”
Dick perked up. “I’ll take him!”
“No,” Jason and Damian said at the same time.
Dick pointed at them. “Why are you like this?”
Damian was already moving. “I will handle it.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “Of course you will.”
Tim hesitated at the threshold like he was checking who he was allowed to follow.
Then, after a beat— he went with Damian.
Jason blinked once.
“…Huh.”
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Outside the Manor, the air was warmer. Quieter. Less people. Less noise. Less everything Tim had been dealing with for the past day and a half.
Damian walked slightly ahead and Tim followed at his side.
Not behind him.
That was the first thing Damian noticed.
“You do not walk properly,” Damian said without looking down.
Tim glanced up at him.
Damian slowed slightly, adjusting his pace. “You walk like you are uncertain where you are permitted to exist.”
Tim blinked.
Damian huffed. “Titus does the same when he is in unfamiliar territory.”
A pause. Then, quieter, “…It is normal.”
Tim’s ears flicked.
They reached a patch of grass near the edge of the grounds. Tim immediately focused on the important task at hand.
Damian stood a few steps away, arms folded, looking deliberately away like this was all beneath him. “You are inefficient,” Damian said. “You could have signaled earlier.”
Tim shot him a look.
Damian continued anyway. “Drake would have made a plan. You are more impulsive than expected.”
Tim finished, shook once, and turned back toward him.
Damian glanced down.
Then, after a beat, “…You are also quieter than expected.”
Tim tilted his head.
Damian looked away again. “I assumed you would be more… irritating in this form.” A pause. Then, very reluctantly, “You are not.”
Tim stared at him.
Damian shifted slightly. “Do not misunderstand. You are still Drake.”
Tim sat down.
Damian exhaled through his nose. “Yes. That.”
A longer silence passed between them.
Damian finally spoke again, softer now. “Todd is not wrong.”
Tim looked up.
Damian didn’t meet his eyes immediately. “He allows you proximity without demand. That is… uncommon.”
Tim’s ears flicked again.
Damian added quickly, like he regretted saying it out loud, “It is not strategic. But it is effective.”
Tim stood, then walked a small circle and sat closer to Damian than he had been before.
Not next to Jason’s absence.
Just… there.
Damian froze slightly.
“…Acceptable,” he said after a moment.
Tim bumped his shoulder lightly into Damian’s leg.
Damian looked down. Didn’t move away. “…You are still returning to Todd,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t a question.
Tim didn’t answer. He just started walking back.
Damian followed a step behind this time. And for once, he didn’t correct the distance.
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Tim followed Jason everywhere.
Outside, when Jason went to smoke his cigarettes—sitting close even though he always hated the smell of smoke.
In the bathroom, though he always looked away like that somehow fixed the entire situation.
In the kitchen, where he would sit directly on Jason’s feet while Jason pretended it didn’t make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Jason stopped commenting on it after the third time.
One night, Dick pointed it out. “So,” he said carefully, watching Tim trotting after Jason down the hallway, “this is just a permanent thing now?”
Jason didn’t look back. “No.”
Tim kept walking anyway.
Dick raised a brow. “Looks pretty permanent.”
“It’s temporary.”
Tim bumped Jason’s leg.
Jason clicked his tongue. “Don’t start agreeing with him.”
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Zatanna arrived on a Tuesday.
No warning. No dramatic entrance. Just suddenly there in the Cave like she’d stepped out of a thought and decided to make it everyone’s problem. “Alright,” she said, clapping her hands once. “Where’s the cursed dog?”
Tim, who had been sitting beside Jason like a shadow that refused to detach, lifted his head. Jason exhaled slowly through his nose. “…Of course she calls him that first.”
Bruce stepped forward. “Thank you for coming on short notice.”
“Short notice is my brand,” Zatanna said, already kneeling to examine Tim. “Hi, sweetheart.”
Tim blinked at her. Then, instinctively, pressed closer to Jason’s leg.
Jason didn’t move. Didn’t comment. Didn’t look down.
Zatanna noticed anyway. “Oh,” she said lightly, glancing up at Jason. “He’s attached-attached.”
Jason scoffed immediately. “He’s a dog.”
“Mhm.”
“That’s what dogs do.”
“Sure.”
Tim huffed and turned his head away from her wand like he didn’t trust it on principle.
Zatanna smiled. “Okay. Yeah. I can fix this.”
The words landed too cleanly. Too final. Jason felt it anyway.
A week of chaos, of barking buttons and following footsteps and a stupid warm weight against his side at night—compressed into a single sentence.
Fix it. Right.
Bruce stepped closer. “How long?”
“Not long,” she said. “I’ll need a few hours to untangle the spell signature, then I’ll reverse the transformation. Easy enough.”
Easy.
Jason nodded once like that was what he wanted to hear.
Relief should’ve been immediate.
It wasn’t.
Tim shifted slightly against his leg. Jason looked down before he could stop himself.
Tim wasn’t panicking. Wasn’t scared. Just watching. Waiting. Like he trusted whatever happened next would still include him somewhere.
Jason looked away first. “…Good,” he said flatly.
Dick perked up. “That’s great news, right?”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “Great.” His voice came out right.
Which is why no one questioned it.
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When the spell finally broke, it was quiet.
No explosion. No flash of light. Just a shift in the air like the world corrected a mistake it had been holding too long.
Tim collapsed forward— and Jason caught him without thinking.
Tim gasped, choking in a sharp breath.
Human breath.
Jason froze.
Hands still on his shoulders. Warm. Shaking slightly. Real.
Tim blinked up at him, disoriented, hair falling into his eyes. “…Jason?”
Silence. Jason let go immediately. One step back. Like distance could undo reflex. “…Yeah,” he said. “Welcome back, Replacement.”
Tim swallowed, looked down at himself and sighed a breath of relief. Zatanna made sure he’d be wearing clothes.
He looked over at Jason. Something flickered in his expression—recognition, confusion, and something quieter underneath it. Jason turned before it could settle. “Good work,” he added, already walking away. “Zatanna fixed it.”
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Later, when everything was supposed to go back to normal—
Jason stood alone in his room.
Listening.
Waiting for footsteps that didn’t come anymore.
He exhaled once.
“…Good,” he said again, to no one.
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Jason wasn’t asleep so much as pretending to be.
The Manor was quiet in that heavy, settled way it got late at night—too clean, too still, like even the walls were holding their breath.
He heard the door open.
Didn’t move.
He heard footsteps stop.
Still didn’t move.
“…You’re doing that thing where you pretend you don’t hear me,” Tim said quietly.
Jason sighed through his nose. “Go away.”
Silence.
Then the door clicked shut again.
Jason almost went back to sleep. Almost.
A few minutes passed before he heard Tim shuffle his feet quietly on the carpet like he wasn’t sure if he should be leaving or staying.
Jason opened one eye.
Tim was there. His hair was messy, hands hovering awkwardly like he didn’t know what to do with them.
Jason stared at him. “What.”
Tim hesitated. “…I didn’t know if—” he started, then stopped. “Never mind.”
Jason closed his eye again. “If you’re gonna say something, say it.”
Another pause. Tim shifted his weight. “…Is this weird now?”
Jason opened his eyes again. “…Is what weird?”
Tim gestured vaguely between them like he didn’t have a word for it.
Jason stared at him for a long second. Then exhaled. “Yeah,” he said finally. “It’s weird.”
Tim nodded like that confirmed something worse. “Okay,” he said softly. “I just—”
He didn’t finish. Just stood there again. Twisting his fingers slightly. Waiting. Like he expected the answer to be no.
Jason watched him for a moment. Then sat up. Didn’t say anything else. Just shifted over on the bed and patted the empty space beside him once.
“…Oh,” Tim said sniffled.
Jason leaned back against the pillows. “Don’t make it weird.”
Tim moved slowly before crawling on the bed and curling into a ball.
Jason stared at the ceiling.
“…You snore,” he muttered.
Tim huffed a small laugh. “Do I?”
“Yeah.”
A beat. “…You stayed.” Jason added, quieter.
Tim didn’t answer right away. “…Yeah.”
Jason turned his head slightly. Looked at him. Then looked away again.
“…Go to sleep, Tim.”
Tim shifted closer, just a little.
“Okay,” he said.
And did.
────────
Tim unlocked the bunker door using the key Jason had given him not long after he returned to human form.
The stairs down were dim, familiar now in a way they hadn’t been before. Still, he stumbled slightly on the last step, rolling his shoulder with a low groan.
Patrol had been brutal and everything hurt.
He didn’t even bother knocking. Jason’s door was cracked open.
Tim pushed it wider and stepped inside like he owned the place, immediately heading for the bed.
He flopped down beside Jason with a heavy exhale, face-first into the pillow.
“Sometimes I hate my job,” he muttered into the fabric.
Jason made a quiet sound of amusement, rolling slightly onto his side to look at him. “Yeah, because vigilantism is a job. You get the W-2 and everything.”
Tim didn’t move. Just reached blindly toward the bedside table.
Jason watched him for half a second. “If you’re about to hit me with that stupid button again—”
click.
“Fuck off.”
Jason sighed through his nose.
“…Yeah,” he said after a beat, voice softer now, “that tracks.”
Tim shifted closer without thinking, still half buried in the pillow.
“Try not to die tomorrow,” Jason added after a moment.
Tim’s voice came muffled from the pillow.
“No promises.”
Jason huffed a small laugh.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Same.”
And neither of them moved from where they were.