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nibordereht · 10 months

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The good brother | Tim Drake & Dick Grayson

Tim gets into a fight and then pierces his own ears. For some reason, that leads him to come out of the closet with his older brother.

✧.

Tim banged the spoon against the kitchen island and exhaled in exasperation.

"You're kidding," he suggested.

"Tim, listen to me, all I'm saying is that there is no need for you to engage in this behavior. I understand that it's Bruce's duty to talk about this with you, but I'm just trying to help you and save you an argument when he gets back...", Dick explained, with all the patience in the world and fiddling with the cereal on his plate. "We know you don't want to go to school, but it's only a few months, you've been through worse than having to study a little after so many years. You don't have to look to get expelled..."

"You're kidding," Tim sentenced. His own cereal no longer looked as appetizing as it had minutes before. He suddenly felt nauseous. "Dick, I'm not trying to get myself expelled. Agh, I don't know what they told you, but it's a misunderstanding... Shit, I wish Jason had gone in your place."

That seemed to stir something in Dick, who frowned and let his spoon slip from his hand.

"Oh, yeah? Right, because Jason would be very condescending if your principal called to say you beat up a student. Or since when are you guys that close?"

"For God's sake, Dick, that's not what this is about!" exclaimed Tim, bewildered. What the hell was wrong with his brother to be being so jealously childish? "Aren't you the one who keeps talking about family bonding? Shouldn't you be glad I'm getting along with Jason?"

Dick sighed and took a seat on the stool across from Tim.

"I-, yes, Tim, I'm glad. I just wish you didn't need to get away from one person to get along with another."

Tim felt his stomach contract as he came close to retching, luckily he managed to disguise it. He patted his chest once and then turned away from his breakfast, unable to continue eating. He wanted to tell his brother he was projecting, like when you walked away from me to get along with Damian, he wished he could add.

Instead, he said:

"That's not the point, Dick. What the hell, seriously, what's the matter with you today?"

"I'm sorry, Timmy, but you can't blame me for being appalled. Not after having to go to a meeting with your principal because you beat up a defenseless civilian for no reason or you telling me that you would have preferred Jason, of all people, to show up as your proxy, as if you didn't care if he went and made a fuss."

Tim pursed his lips and stared at the floor, he pushed himself away from the table and made the first move to stand up.

"First of all, I know how Jay is, but maybe you should stop and think for a second about how he would feel if he heard you have so little faith in him over something so trivial. Secondly, you could at least ask me why I hit him before you assume I didn't have a reason, don't you think?"

"Tim, I'm just trying to save you a hard time, better tell Bruce we talked this over already before he scolds you himself and decides to, I don't know, bench you. Your principal said you didn't want to explain yourself, what do you want me to believe if you won't even stand up for yourself? I know how good you are at self-punishment, little brother. I wouldn't be surprised if you felt you deserved your principal's scolding for what you did without even trying to defend yourself, but keeping secrets from us? If you did something I'd like to find out from you rather than, from your school, I thought you trusted me?"

Without standing and still staring at his shoes, his head between his outstretched arms, Tim bit his lower lip until it ached and he was sure he had broken the thinnest of skin. He squeezed his eyelids tightly shut and rocked his head.

"Do you listen to yourself? Maybe I have a reason for not wanting to justify myself in front of that decrepit old man, can't I?" he snorted, and soon felt his cereal want to slip down his throat again. "If you want... if you want me to trust you like the old days, maybe you have to earn it... again...", his voice wilted at last and he rose quickly from his chair. "I have nothing more to say."

He ran up to her room and into the bathroom to the side of her, stamping his knees hard on the floor and hugging the toilet to vomit.

His breakfast escaped with ease. Leaving all the anger he felt to be replaced by exhaustion.

He repeated to himself that it would be okay, after all it wasn't the first time Dick didn't want to hear it.

✧.

There was a time when Tim felt miserable. Everything around him seemed to fall apart. His family, his team; his whole life. The love of his life was gone, dead; his father was dead, gone. No one believed in him except an obsessive megalomaniac and the older brother he most admired had turned his back on him.

Tim hated his life. If he was honest with himself, he had hated it since he was a little boy, when he became accustomed to material things as tokens of affection, to a cold and lifeless house and later to a mentor who often reminded him that he was unwanted.

Tim hated himself. From the moment he convinced himself that he was selfish because there was hot food on his table, albeit in a boarding school; a mother who looked at him with love, even if she was not by his side every day; a teacher who became his replacement father who taught him to defend himself against the worst adversities in the world, even if against his will at first.

However, there was a light in his path. Something he had never had before: a big brother. A guide in adolescence, a backup in the world of heroes, a friend to hang out with and unconditional love along with great loyalty. He had a net to catch him when he fell. Literally.

Then that vanished. It was just words, a few actions, wrong choices and determined eyes, that drove him away. Strong choices he couldn't deal with.

Dick Grayson had not chosen him over others as he had always believed he would. As he had once chosen him over the orders of his own father and mentor. Dick Grayson had made the decision to protect another younger brother even when Tim was at his worst. And Tim still couldn't get over it.

He couldn't understand. What had he done wrong? Where had he gone wrong? Why did no one ever choose him?

Tim wanted to hate Dick Grayson.

Tim could not.

✧.

Dick had screwed up many times. Especially with Tim. Well, actually he had screwed things up many times with his friends, his father and his girlfriend, but mostly with his brothers. He'd once failed Jason by turning him down, then he'd failed Tim by passing him along, taking away everything he cared about at the worst time while convincing himself that you always had to choose the greater good over any one person. He believed that by choosing Damian he was saving lives without wanting to accept the collateral damage that would be Tim.

He was not at all remorseful. He loved his three brothers equally. He made tough decisions that only the man behind the dark knight's cowl could make. Now however, he was no longer Batman. He was just Dick Grayson again, the man behind the Nightwing mask. Big brother, not surrogate father. Not mentor, but friend. And he had to get his little brother back.

"Tim?" he knocked on his brother's bedroom door. No one answered. "Little brother? I know you're mad at me, but it'll be worse if we avoid the problem..."

It was strange that they did not go around the problem and instead confronted it when it came to family. Bats had bad habits stemming from the man who had raised them. Luckily, Dick's best friend had been raised as a bat herself and had a father who had taught her a different way than the Waynes.

Barbara counseled him on the phone and through communications during the patrol. And by counseling, Dick meant she yelled at him a little and scolded him. He deserved it, he had to admit. Barbara had learned the hard way the difficulties of mentoring after making blunders with Cassandra and less bad ones with Stephanie, but never so bad as to take them on a trip around the world believing themselves rejected and helpless. So Dick had decided to listen to her.

He and Tim needed to talk, urgently.

"Tim, come on, do it for me...please?" No answer again, but he heard a loud hissing sound from the other side of the door. "Tim?"

This time, Dick couldn't stand it any longer and decided to trespass on his little brother's privacy, ready to take the consequences.

"Shit, it's bleeding...", Tim's voice sounded from the bedroom bathroom.

Before, when he had just moved into the manor, Tim used to sleep in Dick's old room, which he himself had given to his younger brother. However, over the years, when Damian had just joined the family, Tim had opted for a larger one, one of the few that included an indoor bathroom, usually used by visitors in the older Wayne family days. Dick hadn't been affected, he too would have made that choice growing up, but he left home before deciding he needed more space in his own home rather than out of town.

"Tim, what's going on, why are you bleeding?" asked Dick, striding to the bathroom. His eyes met Tim's, who was looking at him in fright as he held a cotton ball to his ear.

"Dick? Why did you come in?"

"I wanted to talk to you... What's going on, why did you cut off your ear?"

His lip pulled upward, tempted to make a joke about Van Gogh. His concern won out.

"I didn't cut myself, I..." Dick watched as his brother swallowed spittle. "Nothing...?"

"Tim, I'm looking at you, what happened to you?"

Tim clicked his tongue. His older brother's brow furrowed and he folded his arms. Now somewhat annoyed.

"What happened, Timothy."

"What are you, Janet Drake?" scoffed the younger boy.

"No. I'm your older brother and I'm worried about you, can you explain to me what you were doing?"

"Now you're interested in listening to me? You're a hypocrite," Tim mumbled.

Dick ignored him when he noticed a glint in the boy's non-bleeding ear. The silver earring glowed in the lamplight and reflected in the mirror. Oh, by the gods. Dick groaned.

"Did you pierce your ear?" Tim frowned.

"No."

"You pierced both your ears," Dick corrected himself.

He wanted to die. This was going to be a disaster, worse than when he himself had tried to make a single earring to be fashionable next to his mullet. Bad times. Bruce was going to kill Tim and somehow the blame was going to fall on Dick because his younger brothers somehow always managed to make that happen.

Rule number four hundred and fifty-three, or something like that, no recognizable markings, no accessories. Nothing that could be held against you. Mullet, long hair? Despite what the girls thought, it was easy to grab during a fight. Same with earrings, if they didn't fall out they could still slit your ear with a simple tug. Tattoos? Visible or not, in a kidnapping they could help reveal their secret identities. That among other things.

All that according to Batman, of course.

Jason didn't give a shit, so said the tattoo on his arm. Dick had his rebellious age and his hair grew long enough to allow him to put it in a ponytail. Stephanie had a cape that covered her hair and used it as an excuse. And they all really liked to get in Batman's face.

Except Tim. He was the good guy in the story. The obedient boy.

The boy had finally entered his rebellious age and it was probably Dick's fault. No, it definitely was. He had encouraged him with his bad decisions to run away from home and travel the world, albeit for good reason. If he was getting horned after their little fight, just for scolding him a little, did that mean it was his fault too? On the other hand, Tim was acting weird, it wasn't like him to beat up kids at school and not want to explain himself to the authorities. Maybe he was just entering late adolescence.

Jeez, he should have let Bruce tell him off directly even though he would have ended up benching him. All for wanting to help his little brother. He was just being nosy.

"T? Are you still there?" Dick recognized Conner's voice from Tim's phone on the side of the sink.

"I'll call you back, Kon," and he quickly cut off, holding the absorbent cotton with one hand and putting the phone away with the other. His ear was no longer bleeding, so he threw the cotton in the trash and folded his arms. Now two earrings glistened in the artificial light in the bathroom.

Dick inhaled deeply.

"Listen, Tim, I don't want to keep butting in, but I want you to understand that I'm trying to help you. What do you think Bruce will say about all this? First you hit your partner, you refuse to talk to your principal, and then you put earrings in your ears, which I'm sure will be a problem at school and..."

"I don't even want to go to fucking school, what do I care what they think!" shouted Tim, his jaw clenched and his brow furiously furrowed.

Dick grimaced. He'd heard that one before, more times than he could count.

"Tim," he sighed.

"No, Tim nothing. Stop patronizing me, Dick! I'm practically an adult, even though they'd have me believe otherwise. I've done and seen more than anyone my age, I've saved your life, by the gods, and Bruce's too! I've seen people die in my arms! I'm not going to let them keep treating me like a baby off the field, I'm doing everything they ask me to do, damn it, then why won't anyone listen to me!"

"Tim, if this is about the school..."

"No, Dick, it's not! It's because you don't want to listen, because you keep accusing me of not knowing, not understanding and not wanting to listen when it's all of you who ignore me! I hate school, I hate being here! And sometimes I feel like I hate you!"

Before Dick could add anything above the initial shock, Tim had already left his room. It was the first time Dick had ever heard Tim talk as much as someone his own age. It was too shocking to even react. Gods, how he wished he had his dad here instead of with the stupid Justice League.

"Good talk," Dick muttered. "Shit, I'm an idiot." But he didn't know where he'd gone wrong.

Was it just Tim's rebellious age or was Dick still screwing him up as a big brother?

✧.

Tim's principal had called again. Luckily, Tim's earrings were not involved. As bad luck would have it, Dick was the only one available for the meeting and he acted as Tim's proxy most of the time anyway. Nevertheless, he didn't feel like going to listen to a decrepit old man complain about teenagers or fight with his younger brother without resolving their earlier conflict.

"Mr. Wayne," the older man greeted. Dick gave him a gala smile and shook his hand. Tim was sitting next to him with his arms crossed and his lip swollen and slightly purple. He, too, had a cut on his eyebrow and a slightly scratched cheek.

"Grayson-Wayne, please. I respect my origins and my upbringing at the same time," he explained charismatically. He was so tired, though. First he was going through meetings about Damian's bad behavior, albeit at another school, while Bruce was supposedly dead, and now he had to deal with his other younger brother who was apparently going through his rebellious age. One part of him was saying "finally!" but the other was sulking that his father should be dealing with this and not him.

"Of course. Mr. Grayson-Wayne, then, it's a pity we have to meet again under these circumstances, but your... pupil, he keeps getting into trouble. This time he hit one of our most outstanding athletes. The poor boy sprained his ankle due to a bad fall during his fight and now he won't be able to participate in the interscholastic basketball tournament," he said raising an eyebrow in disgust. "He will understand that his actions must be punished."

Dick sighed.

"I understand, sir, however, I would like to understand why this happened."

"Sure, we have Nathan's version of events, but Timothy still refuses to explain why he hit him in the first place..."

"I didn't hit him first!" exploded Tim. Dick was amazed, it was rare for his brother to reply in exasperation or be so quick to get carried away with his emotions. He was the analytical one, Jason the emotional one; Dick was both. The principal and Dick watched him waiting for the rest of his argument, but Tim sank back in his seat. "He... I was just talking to Conner and he... plus Jason said I had to defend myself!"

Dick snorted.

"Jason again? What, were the earrings his idea too or is it just you drawing attention to yourself, Timmy? Please, just explain..."

"Jason, your brother? What about Connor? Who is Connor and what does he have to do with any of this, Mr. Wayne? I don't remember any Connor at the school..." Spoke the older man over Dick.

The noise was annoying and Tim bit his injured lip making it bleed.

"Conner," Tim muttered, but did not respond.

"And if this is a fight on behalf of your friend, I'd like a better explanation, young man, or is this a matter of more than friends?" the director added in a serious tone.

Tim gritted his teeth. Dick looked at the director in amazement. How and why on earth did he come to that conclusion.

"Excuse me, but I don't think that...", Dick tried to accentuate.

"Forgive me, Mr. Grayson-Wayne, but I can't help but feel that this is all suspicious. I can't allow Mr. Drake-Wayne to maintain this aggressive behavior, plus with all these rumors circulating, I can't help but think this has to do with more than mere bravado..."

Tim turned white, Dick shared the nausea he saw coming in his brother.

"What rumors are you referring to?"

The director ignored Dick's question and stared at Timothy.

"Timothy, are you planning on giving us an answer? Did you get into a fight just because or are you being harassed? Because if this is about your sexuality, we can..."

But Tim ran off.

Dick's mind went blank.

No. Tim was so cheerful and perceptive, he was good-natured and made friends with everyone. No. Tim was so cheerful and perceptive, he was good-natured and made friends with everyone. Why would anyone harass him? And what did his sexuality have to do with anything? It all came at once, but Dick was a detective.

Oh, shit.

✧.

Tim ran.

Shit, that's why he wanted Jason to go to his appointments with the director. He understood, he would help him. He already knew his secret, he wouldn't judge. He needed to talk to him, to Conner, to whoever. He just needed to get away. Get out of school, out of Gotham, anywhere but with that damn old man who analyzed him and was too aware of what was going on in his school, up to date with every rumor, including the ones that said Tim was gay and he was being bullied for it, until he couldn't stand it anymore and fought back, like his older brother had suggested months before, like his boyfriend had offered to do for him. Away from Dick, who would no longer listen to him. Who would no longer understand him. From whom he wanted attention, but wasn't getting it as he wished.

Tim refused to cry. He felt ridiculous, behaving like a child, back to yelling at Dick as if he was to blame for everything, interjecting his body so that his brother would finally pay attention to him like in the old days.

He missed his big brother. Jason was cool, but maybe too cool. He wanted the brother who coddled him and made him feel warm, the one he could tell his most embarrassing secrets to and knew he wouldn't use them as blackmail. He wanted Dick Grayson back in his life, but he was only succeeding in pushing him away.

"Oh, Drake," someone spat behind him, just as he rested from his flight to the side of the gym, where he was sure Dick wouldn't find him quickly, at least the principal would slow him down with some stupid unnecessary chatter. Or who knows, maybe he'd bring him out of the closet with his older brother. Although he had practically just suggested it in front of a detective, which was the same thing. "You dared to show up, you piece of shit. Have you been expelled yet for what you did to me?"

Tim held his breath for three seconds to calm down and then turned to look at Nathan.

"You fell down, asshole. How it's my fault."

Nathan snorted.

"I can sue you for assault, you son of a bitch."

That was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard said. And his classmate loved to say idiotic things, especially about Tim.

"Give it a try. I'll be waiting for you."

Luckily for him, the boy's foot was bandaged with a thousand wraps of gauze and his body as sore as Tim's. He couldn't hit him, and Tim was already fighting back. He was holding back a lot, but he was no longer letting himself look like the poor gay nerd who was bullied at school.

"You fucking faggot!" snarled Nathan, clearly helpless at not being in a position to physically counterattack. "I'll make you sorry!"

"I've heard that so many times," snorted Dick Grayson in all his glory, crossing his arms from beside Tim and Nathan.

Tim's heart pounded hard in his chest. He wanted to cry with relief.

Nathan bit his lip and panicked, he seemed to think it for a moment, then walked silently back to the gym. Two against one and him injured, he wasn't that dumb apparently.

"Whew, that was too easy," Dick sighed. "I didn't want to hit a fifteen-year-old."

"Eighteen, bro. He's eighteen."

Dick dismissed it with his hand.

"It's all the same, you're still twelve."

Tim smiled and in a second was in Dick's arms. He sobbed a little without shedding tears.

"Sorry," he murmured against his older brother's chest. "And thank you."

"No," Dick sighed again for the umpteenth time and squeezed the boy in his arms. "You forgive me. I should have asked you to explain before I assumed." They broke the embrace, but were still close to each other. "Are they really bullying you, Tim? I'm sorry, but I heard what he said to you and... you know, I can put two and two together."

This was not how Tim wanted to come out of the closet. Or reveal that he was being bullied at school. Like, ever.

Tim wiped his wet eyes.

"Kon and I...," he slurped the snot out of his mouth.

"You don't need to tell me, little brother," Dick whispered.

"But I want to, Dick! I wanted, and I want, to tell you, but you weren't listening to me again."

Dick's heart shrank. It was true, he had gotten himself into this trust problem. He had shown Tim that he had other priorities, he hadn't let his little brother talk and had raised his voice to him without letting him answer. He loved Damian, but he had acted so much like a father to him that he had almost forgotten to be a big brother.

He was there to listen to his brother and support him, not to judge his decisions and try to guide him. They were to make mistakes together and let Bruce scold them. Laugh at their mistakes, repeat them because they were young and should learn from them. They had to have fun together, not tense the room every time they got together, avoid their stares and fighting when they tried to converse.

Dick should have been the one to suggest piercing his ears (because he looked great with rings!) instead of freaking out about it because it wasn't like his brother. They should joke about getting matching tattoos and helping him run away from home to party with his, apparently, boyfriend. Listen to him complain about school instead of scolding him for how he behaved in school.

Dick failed as a big brother since he tried to behave like a father, but his father had returned and it was time to get back on par with his little brothers.

"It's okay, Tim. Talk. I'll listen to you."

✧.

Tim felt like it had been a thousand years since he last drank a milkshake together with Dick. He was nothing short of exploding with excitement to spend time with his brother again, just the two of them as civilians, pretending they were normal brothers and spending time together while gossiping about their friends, i.e., other superheroes.

"Chocolate and marshmallows is not a milkshake, it's like, cold hot chocolate or something," Dick explained as he set Tim's glass in front of him and took a sip of his own milkshake.

"Yours has popcorn on it, Dick, you can't judge me."

"I guess."

Tim didn't know where to start, there was so much he wanted to vent to his big brother about that he didn't know where to begin. He wanted to yell at him, he wanted to hug him, cry and hit him, apologize and thank him.

Dick wins him.

"Can you let me get started?" quietly asked Dick, after downing his milkshake by half.

Tim nodded, trying to concentrate on his drink instead of the person in front of him.

"Look, I want to start by apologizing. I've been doing a lot of thinking and I never apologized for everything I implied while Bruce was, well, missing. I want to make something clear, Timmy. You should never let people pressure you to do things you don't want to do; not to confess to liking someone, not to accomplish missions you don't agree with, not to grow up when you're not ready and leave a stage you haven't outgrown," Tim felt his eyes getting wet, but he took a long sip of his milkshake and popped a marshmallow in his mouth, swallowing the urge to cry with that. "I shouldn't have taken Robin away from you like I did, Tim. I should have talked to you... You're my equal, gods, you're my brother, and even the stupid cowl didn't have to change that. I wanted you to be like Nightwing and Batgirl are to Batman, independent allies who don't dance to his tune; I wanted you to be more than my sidekick, but I did everything wrong. I'm sorry for that. I'm really sorry about that. And I don't think you did everything you did out of spite, I'm grateful you brought our dad back. I never thanked you either. I'm proud of you, little brother, and that you trusted me to catch you despite how badly I failed you."

Tim sniffled through his snot and let a tear fall, wiped it away quickly and laughed a watery laugh.

"I love you, Dick," he sobbed.

"Aw, I love you too, little brother. You're part of the best part of my life."

"Sorry for being a spoiled brat," Tim insisted.

"If I have to, I forgive you. Anyway, the earrings look great on you," he laughed. "And, if you'd told me you were being picked on, I'd have gone to bully those guys a lot sooner. Nightwing may be a hero first, but Dick Grayson is a loving brother before anything else."

Tim wiped the remnants of mucus on his lip with his sleeve and laughed again. Gods, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so light next to Dick, not afraid of Damian coming along and hogging him or feeling angry at his brother's condescension. He was happy.

"I was so mad at you, I swear," Tim admitted. "I thought you wrote me off as a brat in his rebellious age and nothing more, unhappy with everything and everyone. I guess we just had to communicate, but gods, that's so hard in this family."

"It's okay, I guess I'm a little hard-headed too. Kori says it all the time, also that I'm a bit dramatic."

"A little? Sometimes I think you didn't tell me about Damian taking Robin just to make it more shocking on purpose."

Dick grimaced uncomfortably and finished drinking his milkshake.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that too. I think it was great for Damian to be Robin, but I forgot that it gave life to you as well. I should have planned it better. Although I think, now more than ever, little brother, maybe the time has come for you to find your own hero, hasn't it?"

"Mm," Tim sighed. "Yes. Anyway, I couldn't be Robin forever. Who I am is already a problem for another day. Maybe by the time I graduate. If I do graduate this time..."

"Don't talk nonsense," Dick rolled his eyes. "Third time's the charm."

There was something Tim didn't know how to bring up. It was easy with Jason, he manipulated the situation and confessed before Tim, but everything was different with Dick. Despite what the rumors said, he was sure that Dick was straight enough that he didn't quite understand Tim, after all, he had seen him talk to Kori and he was either too much in love or too straight; unlike Jason, who was very gay, especially after coming out to his younger brother; he was the tough guy but soft on the inside, very different from the outgoing lover that Dick was.

He did not know the extent of his older brother's good perception and intuition. "So...," Dick began. He snapped Tim out of his own thoughts. "Connor."

"Ugh, I hate that old man," Tim growled. Somehow, he felt more comfortable now. "I..." He knew Dick had told him he shouldn't tell him if he didn't want to, but he really wanted to. He just didn't know how. Dick's hopeful look encouraged him without pressuring him. "Conner is my best friend, like Wally and you," his brother nodded and waited. "But I love him like you love Kori," Tim said in a whisper. He swallowed audibly and exhaled all the air he'd been holding during his statement.

Gods, was that so hard?

"Then you must love him very much." Dick smiled so much that his eyes disappeared and his face flushed.

Tim smiled back and began swinging his feet under the reserved seat.

"Yes... Yes. I love Kon very much."

"And you are...?"

"Am I?" asked Tim curiously.

"Uhm, are you bi or...? I mean, you dated Steph and Ariana, but..."

"Oh."

Good. Tim had thought about it a lot actually. He loved Ariana so much, she was his first love, she was sweet, very pretty and she was fucking in love with him. He wasn't in love with her though. He loved her, he just didn't love her back enough to call it a mutual romance. Similar with Stephanie, just a little hotter... He loved her a ton, loved her as a best friend, however, he wasn't sexually attracted to her. And he tried so hard to convince himself that he was attracted to her, even though she was the one who forced the relationship a bit at first, because he grew to love her and wanted to have her around in almost every way. He just didn't... He couldn't reciprocate her in everything she wanted. In the end, not in love either.

But Conner was a lifeline he wanted to hold on to. He wanted to touch him, kiss him, love him, laugh with him, hold his hand and never let go. He wanted a future together, a forever.

"I... I think I'm gay, Dickie."

Then he began to laugh. Dick followed him.

"Point for Jay, I guess," he snorted. "He...?"

"Well, yeah. He knows, I'm sorry."

"No wonder they were so close, conspiring against me," Dick snorted.

"Wait, he told you?"

"Tell me what, that he's gay? No, no. It's more my gut... and his obvious crush on Roy when we were young, before the Joker and all that, you know. Unless he's bisexual or something else and I'm not aware of it. I doubt he's aroace, if you ask me: too much of a crush and romantic."

"Gods, let's not discuss their sexuality, please, ew." Dick's smile widened maniacally.

Oh. So Dick didn't know Roy and Jason were together. Interesting.

"By the way, are you as straight as you look?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow and topping off his chocolate milkshake.

"Well, I had a stage of questioning whether I liked Wally, but I think it was because we got along too well and he reminded me a bit of Barbara. Of course, then there was Kori and my world was turned upside down by one girl," he admitted proudly. "Sorry, little brother, but Richard Grayson-Wayne is straight and cis. Don't be grossed out by me, please. Heterophobia and all that," he joked.

"You were already grossing me out anyway," Tim guffawed. He hoped no one, who didn't understand the sarcasm, heard them, besides the waitress who had just passed them and let out a small chuckle.

Finally Tim could breathe in peace. No more nausea, no more tears, no more frustration and helplessness. He could now talk to his brother like in the old days. At least for now.

"By the way, Dick, have you actually tried weed?"

Uh. Dick was in trouble.

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