#tim and damian arrive to help and dick is like D: no pay attention to me again

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

YOU HAVE SUMMONED ME honestly I was worried that this was super late but then I saw the time stamp on your post and I was like 😀 tis still shenanigan time!! HALEY!!! aka BITEWING!!!! sweet angel baby puppy love of my life. she’s adorable. she only has three legs! when dick rescued her from getting abused by some random jerks in the street she BIT HIM hard enough that he needed STITCHES. and he said “oh i’m gonna take her to the pound tomorrow” and babs and tim were like 👀 uh huh, sure you are dick… and next thing you know we see he’s got toys for her and a bed and a bowl with her name on it. her name was voted on by readers and is a nod to haly's circus! (which writers occasionally forget that dick owns now, but that’s a whole other tangent) she is a tiny menace and I love her! just in canon we’ve seen her try to play with/tear up important papers, she ate dick’s tv remote and tore up his couch, and she has daydreams about fighting crime as bitewing 🩵 she very much strikes me as an ankle biting menace while she’s still a puppy, and I feel like lucky would literally have to scruff her to pull her away from a fight… which honestly also feels right for kate and dick in some cases 😂

This is amazing I am sobbing I am weeping Kate and Dick with their disabled doggos

(Also Dick and Clint lowkey soulmate vibes???)

I was imagining Kate losing Lucky at a dog park (full disclosure I have no idea how dog parks work, maybe just a regular park?) and she's getting pizza to lure Lucky (and potentially also Jeff???) back to her, she's not super worried, she's chatting to Cute Tall Guy who is ALSO missing his dog. He's not getting pizza for doggo, just for him. Anyway SUDDENLY A RUCKUS and Kate and Tall Guy hear Barking! And individually they are thinking, well, my dog might have just started a gang war

again

This is fine

It turns out puppo Haley has found a stray cat mama with a new litter of kittens and has planted herself between the cat and some other dogs who are clearly VERY poorly behaved, but she is a hero and that's! what! heroes! do! However Haley is a pup and also missing a leg she could use some backup basically, and Lucky, who has never met a disaster he doesn't love, decides to ALSO plant himself between the mean dogs (who are lowkey trying to bully Haley) and Haley and the cats. Jeff might be there but mostly for the Drama bc he's a messy bench like that

Anyway Dick and Kate proceed to RIP INTO the other dog owners and then look at each other askance like wtf are we supposed to do with the cat?!?!?! Who has decided Haley is just a big dumb kitten she lost and has adopted her (very bruce-coded of the cat tbh). And kittens?!?! One of them is orange and has something going on with an eye and Kate is like oh NO this kitten is a cat Lucky I can't believe I have at least one cat now

(clint: you know you don't have t--

Kate: who am I to argue with the cat distribution system)

Dick is frantically calling up his favorite animal expert (it's Damian) about how to safely move mama and kittens? And where? Vet??!?!? Animal shelter?!?!?! Tim?!?!

To be fair Dick could have probably figured it out if he was alone but Kate is there and his brain makes dialup noises when he looks at her for too long yes he's WEAK leave him alone

At some point Kate winds up sitting on the ground and Haley flops into her lap and passes out because it's been a big day for a puppy and Lucky and Jeff give Kate the BIGGEST SADDEST BABY EYES because that's their spot?? Why is this interloper hogging the Pizza Girl? Lucky turns Sad Dog Eye on Dick like Dick is just going to remove his darling puppy from her nap spot? Sir. Please be serious.

Idk where i was going with this but also Lucky the hardened established dog hero and Haley his young impetuous sidekick dog, Jeff finding missions for them working out of Batcow's barn. BITEWING!!! I am dead. Pandemonium is their business.

lol for some reason Haley is giving me cat vibes a little. Lucky is like, this is Pizza Girl. Protecting Pizza Girl is my sworn duty. And Haley is like I am BITEWING. This is my human sidekick, Nightwing.

(Also for some reason I'm lowkey vibing Clint and Babs???? For this???? I think they are besties regardless but just seeing them watching their favo disaster birds getting parent trapped by their DOGS like "are you seeing this? I'm not the only one seeing this right????")

ANyway maybe Clint has custody of Lucky so Kate and Jeff are moping hanging out at a park (Jeff is an extrovert and he is LONELY he wants FRIENDS) and one of two things happens:

Haley bolts and Dick is chasing after her and hears someone go "Don't you BARK at him, he didn't do anything! He just wants to be friends!" which makes Dick have the simultaneous thoughts of "oh no what did my dog do" and "how DARE you yell at my dog!!"

he rounds the corner and sees Haley looking as chagrined as a chaos pup can look before scootching closer to the other dog and licking its...nose. Snout?

"That's a shark," Dick says. The shark in question is now dragging out what appears to be a rotisserie chicken and is sharing it with Haley.

"What?" Kate says. "No, he's just a rare breed of dog. The, uh. The Chilean Hairless....land...shark."

OR Haley is Not Afraid! She decided she and Dick were playing fetch with one of his escrima sticks and she took OFF so now Dick is yelling for her hoping she comes back with the same stick she left with.

So Dick is hollering for her and Kate answers back "Haley is over here! Uhh assuming Haley is a dog and not a child, or a bird, or a lizard of some kind?"

And that's when Dick sees his dog playing with his escrima stick with a shark??? who is leaving dents in his weapon????

Kate isn't even looking at Dick when she's like "hey, do you come here often? Jeff has been really lonely and she's the first dog we've met that isn't terrified of him, so that's pretty cool, anyway hi my name is Kate...." and THEN she looks up (and up, and up) at Dick and is like. oh my god. is this why Gwen said we should try this park today??? Because of beautiful dog dad man?

either way Jeff REFUSES to leave Haley which means Dick and Kate have to spend most of the day together. At some point MODOK tries to steal Jeff back and Haley plants herself in front of Jeff and growls at MODOK and she's actually pretty intimidating but it's still the cutest thing ever. Jeff and Haley are ride-or-dies, like Jeff will be mad at Dick when Haley has to go to the vet.

[rosesgonerogue]

Mistletoe

Daminette December Day Nineteen

No one knew how long Damian had been dating his mystery girlfriend. In fact, no one knew anything about Damian’s mystery girlfriend other than the fact that she existed. The fact that they knew that much was a miracle in and of itself, revealed to them through a combination of Dick’s stubborn persistence and Damian slipping up for once in his life. 

Concerned at his seeming total disinterest in romance, Dick had approached Damian about the topic, complete with several pamphlets on different sexualities, as well as a book on how to initiate dating. When this first occurred, Damian had merely brushed off his brother, claiming that he was able to figure it out on his own. 

Dick didn’t take well to that, instead inundating Damian’s life with the cursed pamphlets. Damian found them in Robin’s utility belt, at his place setting at the dining table, and shoved into every crevice of his school bag. Damian didn’t know about the last one until he actually got to class, opening his bag only to have the pamphlets spill all over his desk.

He was furious. Only Jon had seen anything, but that didn’t stop Damian from shoving the evidence into his bag and storming away from the school, even if it was still first period. 

Dick had gone back to Bludhaven the night before, so it scared the life out of him when Damian came crashing into his apartment. He had been catching up on sleep, so he screamed girlishly before his eyes focused on Damian. “What are you doing here, Little D?” 

Damian threw the pamphlets at his brother, seething with rage. “I told you I am FINE, Grayson. I don’t need your damn pamphlets.” 

“Listen, Damian, I’m just concerned. You might be ace, and that’s perfectly fine, I support you in that. I just think with your particular upbringing that your sexuality might have been repressed, so I wanted to--”

“I DO NOT NEED YOUR HELP WITH MY SEXUALITY. I AM VERY HAPPY WITH MY GIRLFRIEND, GRAYSON. THANK YOU FOR NOTHING,” Damian yelled, shaking his brother by the shirt. 

Dick’e eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “Did you just say girlfriend, Damian? You have a girlfriend? What’s her name? Where did you meet her? Did you--”

“Goodbye, Grayson,” Damian said, escaping before Dick could get anything further out of him. 

When he was a good distance away from Dick’s apartment, Damian went into an alleyway, kicking a brick wall. He sulked a few moments before reluctantly pulling out his phone. 

It rang a few times before Damian’s favorite voice answered in French. “Damian? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“You should also be in class if I remember correctly, Angel,” Damian responded, feeling a bit calmer already. 

“We were let out early today, and this is a great way to celebrate. But I doubt your school let you out this early. What’s wrong, Dames?”

He sighed deeply. “I slipped up. I may have accidentally told my eldest brother about you.” 

“You’re the only one that thinks that is a tragedy, Dames. I honestly thought you would have told your family months ago. My parents are practically planning our wedding already.” 

“I know, but your family is different,” Damian said, pouting a bit. “I just… I just wanted to keep you to myself for now.” 

“That’s sweet, Dames, but I’d like to meet them eventually,” Marinette laughed. “Now I have an excuse.” 

Now the Wayne household was preparing for Damian’s mystery girlfriend’s arrival, and each member was handling it differently. Damian had spent most of the time threatening the lives of his siblings, while Jason and Tim were busy updating the betting pool about Damian’s mystery girlfriend. Dick followed Damian around, chirping dating advice. Meanwhile, Stephanie and Barbara spent their time hanging copious amounts of mistletoe around the house.

When the doorbell rang, everyone froze. The only sound was Alfred answering the door and speaking to the person lowly before coming into the parlor. “A guest for Master Damian has arrived.” 

Every resident watched with bated breath as a young girl stepped into view. She was around Damian’s age, and she was--

“She’s adorable!” Stephanie exploded. 

“How much is Damian paying you to act like you’re his girlfriend?” Jason demanded. 

Everyone began speaking at once, and the girl backed away a bit, eyes widening. The girls kept talking at Marinette, but she couldn’t hear them over Jason and Tim arguing or Damian yelling at Dick. Marinette was ready to walk right back outside until Alfred clapped his hands, his usually calm exterior tainted with disapproval. “You’re disgracing the Wayne family, you should all be ashamed of the way you’re treating your guest.” 

All heads bowed and apologies were murmured before Damian finally pushed Dick away, an uncharacteristic smile gracing his face. “You made it here safely, Angel.” 

Marinette finally grinned, her face lighting up the room. “Dames! It’s good to see you!” 

Stephanie leaned over to Barbara. “Is that a French accent I hear?” 

“Come into the parlour, I suppose if you’re here you have to meet my family,” Damian said, not without regret. “I didn’t realize that your English had gotten so good.” 

As the girl stepped into the room, Stephanie and Barbara watched her like a hawk, waiting for the inevitable moment that Marinette would step under the mistletoe. It was almost impossible to avoid if you were paying attention, so the girls didn’t expect to be waiting long. 

“I made Adrien practice with me almost non-stop since I knew I was coming here,” the girl said, making her way into the room. She was clearly immersed in the conversation, but she managed to subtly weave her way through the mistletoe like it was some kind of maze. “He hasn’t been to America, but he’s fluent and it seems to have worked well enough. I couldn’t get rid of the accent, though.” 

“If I may be so bold, I would like to state that the young lady speaks beautifully,” Alfred said, somehow magically procuring a tea tray. “Just where in France are you from, Miss…” 

“Oh, I’m Marinette, I guess I forgot about that part,” the girl said, blushing as she settled onto a couch, somehow still avoiding the mistletoe. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I’m from Paris.” 

Introductions were made, and Marinette somehow fit into the family flawlessly. However, no matter what they did, Marinette somehow avoided the mistletoe. 

It was Stephanie that broke first. “Is Damian paying you or something? Just stand under the mistletoe already!” 

“There’s mistletoe?” Marinette glanced up, the picture of surprise. They would have bought it, too, but there was something too sharp in her eyes, too cunning. “Oh, none of your animals can get to it, can they Dames? It’s poisonous, I would hate for anything to happen to one of your animals! Titus is a pretty large dog, isn’t he? Jerry is probably safe, but Pennyworth! Oh, I hadn’t even considered Pennyworth, what if he climbed up the curtains and--”

Marinette’s worries were interrupted by Jason’s laughing. He laughed hard and deep before sighing. “Demon Spawn does have a girlfriend, I’m amazed. No actress would care so much about his stupid pets.”

“On that note, I believe we have overstayed our welcome. We will have time to see our guest  more throughout her stay, but in the meantime I believe Master Damian and Miss Marinette would appreciate some time to themselves,” Alfred said, collecting empty tea cups. 

Marinette watched as the butler shepherded the rest of the occupants out. When she turned to Damian, her smile was knowing. “Your family is a bit overwhelming at first, but they’re actually quite fun, not miserable like you describe.” 

“They’re all completely ridiculous,” Damian huffed. “And they were far too monopolizing of you.” 

“Oh, that’s why you’re so upset,” Marinette teased, lightly jabbing him in the side. “I meant what I said about the mistletoe, but your pets are safe for the moment. Want to make good use of it before Alfred makes the others clean it up?” 

“Have I mentioned that I love you?”

Taglist: 

@daminette-december2019 @cravethosecrazysquares @krispydefendorpolice @thesunanditsangel @sonif50 @kris-pines04 @persephonebutkore @tbehartoo @corabeth11 @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @bluerosette23 @weird-pale-blonde-person @mystery-5-5 @heaven428 @thethirdwheelfriend @thetinymoonflower @interobanginyourmom @chocolate1721 @akana-sama @skyel0ve @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou

A day late, but it happens. I’m going to try to get these out on time, but who knows what will happen. In other news, I’ve posted the prologue of the Jasonette fic that I’m writing to celebrate having 100+ followers. However, at the rate you guys are going, chapter one is going to celebrate me having 200 followers, I’m amazed by you guys! Until next time!

[cat-the-dragon]

This Last Thing I Could Do For You

I guess most of my followers already read  Even Now We Feel The Shape Of Your Absence, that I’d posted partly because of @camsthisky​, and partly because of the @nanowrimo​.

This time, I’m blaming @chibinightowl​ for inspiring me to write this prequel (still meant to be read after the other one), both her and @comicroute​ beta-ed for me, so thanks to them

Read on Ao3

-The opening of the Will is scheduled at 19:00 this Monday in the Batcave.-

Jason stared at the message. The Will. Whose will? In the Batcave, a will was being read.

It had been sent by Barbie's Oracle number, so the probability of a prank was in negative percentages.

One of the Bats had died, and Jason hadn't been told. He’s always the last one to hear about these things.

Oh, god, what if it was Alfred?

Hands just barely not trembling, Jason typed his reply. -Who died- No question mark, somehow, it seemed more disrespectful than sending a message without proper punctuation.

-Red Robin- Came back ten seconds later.

Jason stared at the two words. He'd expected relief if it wasn't Alfred, but learning it was the kid he still held a grudge against without a proper reason was actually worse.

Jason arrived at the Cave at 7 pm sharp on Monday. He was there for the Will, not to socialize.

He'd had the time to look up what had happened.

It had been surprisingly easy.

Red Robin Death and Red Robin Suicide were all over the internet. There was a shaky cell-phone video of the hero hurling to the ground and going splat that had gone viral enough that even the Bats couldn't seem to get rid of it, and then dozen of witness declarations on diverse discussion boards.

The report he'd hacked on the Batcomputer said that Red Robin's gear had been in perfect working order, he didn't seem to have suffered any head injury before the fall, and his blood tox screening came back perfectly clear.

So.

Suicide.

Somehow Jason felt bad.

He wondered if he'd had anything to do with Repla- Tim's decision.

Dickster had told him, "Tim was your greatest fan. I saw him talking to your Memorial Case in the cave, Jay."

He wondered. Would things be different if he'd actually apologized for beating the kid up on top of Titan’s Tower and shooting him that time?

Jason knew how much having a role-model betray you hurt, and he'd been the one who did that to Tim, hadn't he? Would he have gone suicidal if Bruce systematically went after him with the intention to cause maximum harm instead of just reactively hurting him?

Who was he kidding, Jason was already a bit opportunistically suicidal even with just the status-quo at hand.

He didn't have the time to dwell more, because the big screen flickered with a video as soon as Bruce saw him arrive. (He was the last one, good.)

"Hey," the costumed and masked Red Robin on the screen started. "Seeing the probability of me dying, on or off the field, I figured I should make a vigilante version of my will. That way I can get into the type of questions that definitely couldn't be stated or explained on the civilian one that I left with the lawyer."

The Tim on the screen (not the one resting under a sheet in a refrigerated dome in the medbay that Jason had only glimpsed so far) turned a bit more somber. "I gave this video to Oracle. I figured a video would be the easier to confirm as genuine and not forced. The instructions were to get everyone possible to open it, but do it within two days at most, even if some were missing. That way you have a forewarning of my preferences before you start sorting my civilian death."

"Good bye everyone. B, if you are watching this alone because you couldn't wait for the others, or got nosy and I'm still alive while you see this, I'm very disappointed in you, close this video immediately!" Red Robin made a stern frowny face, and despite the solemn atmosphere in the cave, a ripple of amusement ran through the assembled heroes.

Jason for his part stomped down on his matching laugh to shoot Bruce a suspicious look. Did he tense? Had he actually tried it?

"So, I guess first off are my cases... I pre-made an override command in all my digital systems that will transfer everything to my old Robin session in the Batcomputer. I tend to use informatics a lot, so there should be everything you need on it to finish whatever I am doing at the moment of my death. It might be time sensitive, so I hid the transfer key in the Batcave, you'll find it under the detachable R emblem of my first Robin design in the display cave. It's a microchip, you might need a couple of minutes to find it, then connect under my old session and launch the program that pops up, it'll do everything on it's own. DO NOT fiddle with the code or launch it from anything but my old session on the Batcomputer, it'll destroy all my data. That's a very safeguarded override."

"Even then, some things are password protected. I put the list of encrypted passwords and corresponding files under the passenger side floor-mat of the Batmobile. Red Hood's Batmobile." Probably the one he boosted the tires from what feels like a lifetime ago. Good concealment of information in case an enemy got the Will on Tim's part, that.

"The encryption key is written on a post it note in Nightwing's favorite book from when he was still wearing the disco suit." Jason shot a look at Dick, who had a pensive expression on, trying to remember, surely.

"Legacy comes next, I guess? Red Robin was Hood's so if he wants to take it back now that I'm dead he can, I'd rather you didn't give it to D-Robin or any youngster after me, though. It’s not been around long enough to absolutely need to get passed down, and frankly, if I die in it, it would be a pretty unlucky omen for the next one.”

And that doused the little bit of levity that seeing a sassy Red Robin had introduced. Jason couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the sheet covered exam table.

Talk about unlucky.

One thing was sure, Jason would not be donning Red Robin again, thank you.

“The map of all my personal safe houses should be in the download with my cases, feel free to help yourselves to them or my gear. I mean all of you, no one gets to claim everything for themselves without asking the others if they want it.”

“Now my other Will also says this, but I wish to be cremated. And if possible not have all the ashes at the same place. I know it is tempting to forego it and wish for another miraculous resurrection like for J. But considering the interest Ra’s has been paying me, I really, really prefer not to run any risk of him ever getting his hands on my corpse.”

Tim looked at the camera fixedly. “I know what you’re thinking, B. You’re thinking you could protect my grave. Don’t. You’re not immortal, Ra’s is. What about fifty years from now? Will you still be able to protect my grave then? I prefer not to run the risk, so please respect my wishes on this.”

Bruce got up abruptly and stormed off.

Jason shot a venomous glare at his back.

He couldn’t even handle that? Tim had definitely been low balling that one because Bruce’s ability to protect graves? BULLSHIT. He hadn’t even noticed him vacating his.

Tim spoke for a couple more minutes. Minor things about who could have what, and his wish not to get a memorial case in the Batcave, and what to give to the Titans. There were instructions about keeping an eye on his teammates, especially Superboy, right after his death. He  offset that by saying he made a will for the Titans too and that they would know what he wanted them to do after he died.

There weren’t person by person messages for the Bats, Tim apparently treated them as a single entity, or he’d made a series of personal messages independently from the general one.

Jason wasn’t paying much attention by the time the screen went black, because his mind had gotten stuck on Tim’s demand for a cremation. He understood that all too well. And more importantly, Bruce’s reaction to it.

Was he getting paranoid?

This suspicion, that Bruce storming off might be because he wanted to falsify the civilian will, stuck with him though.

Would Bruce be that much of an asshole?

What a question.

Yes, yes he would. When Bruce thought he knew best, he steamrolled everyone to force his version of ‘the best thing to do’, disregarding everyone’s logical reasons or emotions.  Jason actually wondered if he was even aware people other than him routinely had feelings.

He looked around himself at the other Bats in the cave. Bruce wasn’t hiding anywhere he could see, but everyone else lingered, making clusters, crying, or noticeably being in the process of not-crying.

Damian was standing stock still, staring at the screen vacantly, obviously still deep in shock or denial.

Everyone else was mixed bags. They had seen death so often that they skipped entire stages of grief all the time, though for that one, Jason did foresee everyone getting bogged down on guilt floor for ages. He knew he would.

Suicides had the tendency to do that to surviving families after all.

Resigned to the idea of having to be the bad guy, Jason stalked past Blondie crying in the arm of a very stiff Cassandra and stopped in front of Barbara.

She extracted her blotchy face from Dick’s abs and sniffed. “What do you want?” she asked coldly.

“Where is B?”

Dick snarled, jumping over the wheelchair to put himself between Barbara and Jason. “Now is not the time to be petty. Tim is dead! He... He’s dead, he’s not coming back, he’s dead!”

So he was the bad guy. He was okay with it but as the one who’d gotten royally fucked by a Lazarus Pit, he’d given himself the mission to ensure Red Robin was burned the way he asked to. Being the good guy or the bad guy was not important. Keeping Bruce from disrespecting his third Robin’s wishes was.

So he said the bad guy’s thing. “Yes, he’s dead. And he wanted to stay that way and not become a Lazarus puppet like me, so I really hope I am wrong in my suspicions, but I need to know where Bruce is to be sure of that.”

Barbara stared at him around Dick, wide eyed. “He wouldn’t.”

“Right. And he wouldn’t label my memorial with ‘a good soldier’ either, then?” Jason spat back.

“This isn’t about you!” Dick yelled.

“No, it isn’t!” Jason bellowed back, agry to be accused of making Red Robin’s death about him. “It’s about Tim wanting to be cremated and Bruce going missing after the unofficial Will stated part of the content of the official one that’s with a lawyer. A part Bruce doesn’t like. How well can a law office hold up to the Batman?”

“How dare you suggest… You hateful!” Dick was losing steam. And the whole cave was deathly silent except for the unhappy rustle of disturbed bats on the ceiling. Everyone was staring at them. “...Spiteful… You!”

“Prove me wrong, then.” Jason gestured to the computer. “Tell me where Bruce is.”

Barbara blew out a loud breath. “I so hope you are wrong.” She wheeled herself to the console, letting Dick try to protect empty air.

“So do I.” Jason stood tall, arms crossed next to Barbara as she chillingly narrated her finds. No missing cars or bikes. Jason pointed that Bruce had gone up the stairs in his Batman costume. She gritted her teeth and looked for him on the video surveillance.

Dick was staring at him like he was a monster. And frankly, he would give his right hand to be wrong, but someone had to doubt the Bat, and if no one else would, Jason would be that person. He infinitely prefered being wrong and looking like the a heartless monster at Tim’s will reading, than be right but not speaking up and seeing Bruce prove himself to be the inconsiderate asshole once more.

“No,” Barbara whispered. “No.”

Jason squeezed his eyes shut. Shit. The pinpoint that represented Bruce was heading straight for Gotham. Which wasn’t that bad per-se. Maybe he was planning to beat some poor schmucks up to make himself feel better, but as far as disproving his fears went, it wasn’t great. (The fact that he had gone out in full Batman from the Manor’s entrance and apparently decided to go by foot wasn’t saying great things about his state of mind either.)

He stood still and silent, watching Bruce move on the map. Waves of murmurs floated around as some of the Bats left for their patrol and others watched along with Dick, Barbara and Jason.

When Bruce made it to the block of Tim’s lawyer, Jason decided to fuck the benefit of the doubt and stop dawdling.

His plan was already forming as he turned away from the computer screen and jogged up the cave’s stairs.

First, he went to the garage.

Slashing every single tire might have been a little overdone, but Bruce was filthy rich, he’d get over it.

Second were the supplies.

He didn’t have a precise idea of exactly what would be needed, but he figured he could always buy what he needed as he went. The most important tools for the first phase was cooling stuff.

He pilfered a big comforter from a guest room and filled it with as many ice cube packs as he could find in the upstairs freezer, then he trudged back down the cave’s stairs with his loot.

Barbara, Alfred and Damian were the only ones still in the cave when Jason came back down. He figured Dick must have led the few stragglers on a mission to go talk some sense into the big dumb Bat.

Jason didn’t like to put his trust in that. If he wanted stuff done, he might as well do it himself.

The trio stared at him and his comforter bag. He ignored them.

He did the same with all the cooling packs in the medbay freezer as he had upstairs.

He also pilfered half the emergency liquid Batfunds from their hiding place.

Third was the Batgarage.

He almost expected to be stopped, to have to fight his way through, but instead he was met with watchful silence when he stalked to one of the Batmobiles, opened the trunk, collapsed the back seats and spread his catch on the floor.

Then Jason methodically moved on the hangar for the fliers and plastic-ed up every single landing gear. Barbara put a hand on Damian’s shoulder and asked him to push her to the elevator because she wanted a snack.

Damian must have been pretty out of it not to see through the transparent excuse. Or maybe he was experiencing disconnect. He blinked at the systematic destruction Jason was wreaking upon their vehicles, then at Barbie, and obeyed without a word.

The Bat-tires were all a lot sturdier than the civilian ones, so slashing wouldn’t work that well.

Instead, with a lingering look at Alfred to see if he’d try to stop that much, Jason took out the Bat-impact-wrench and went to work removing every single wheel and kicking them over the edge of the precipice into the man-made lake Batman kept his marine float in.

Once only his chosen Batmobile was standing on all its wheels, he went for part four.

Fourth was Tim.

He strolled up to Tim’s body, opened the refrigerating dome, and lifted the sheet covered lifeless body up in his arms. He noticed Alfred bustling around. Still, he didn’t move to stop him when he went back to the trunk and deposited Tim in it.

Considering how the body had been kept very cool since his death (probably to make it easier to disguise his civilian death to a later date) rigor mortis had barely set in and it was fairly easy to maneuver him into lying on his side so he would fit inside the limited space.

Jason folded the blanket back up over Tim and closed the trunk. This was when he noticed Alfred in much more practical clothes than he ever thought he’d see the old man in, holding a backpack and opening the passenger door.

He stared at the old man, but when he was only met with a very flat stare, he shrugged, climbed into the driver seat and drove off. It was nice to see someone else understood about respecting final wishes and all that.

Fifth was distraction.

In the morning, once he estimated himself far enough from Gotham, Jason bought a replacement minivan with tinted windows at a shady second hand shop. Alfred helped him transfer the contents of the Batmobile, and then they left with their new vehicle.

Jason left the Batmobile in a well frequented parking lot with the keys taped to a side mirror for any daring youth to take it on a joyride whenever they found it. Alfred didn’t look thrilled by his choice, but didn’t protest either.

When Alfred asked him what he planned on doing, Jason started considering his options besides ‘steal the body and run’. Speaking the possibilities out loud helped him think them through too.

Breaking into a funeral house and commandeering the crematorium, although easier, would leave an obvious trail. If not on the security surveillance, at least in the fuel gauge. There was no way it wouldn’t be reported and investigated, and even if nothing came up from it, it would make Tim’s civilian death with a missing body much more suspicious than it needed to be.

Tim was so loyal to the Bats and their secret, that even the fleeting possibility that Jason might be too careless and accidentally harm his successor's cover made him sick to his stomach.

Alfred nodded at Jason’s exposed doubts. “Well,” he mused. “I guess humans have been building funeral pyres since the Roman empire, and they didn’t have gasoline then. I suspect young master Tim would have appreciated such a send-off.”

Jason swallowed. “Would he?” he asked, suddenly desperate to learn more about the person he’d just gone against Batman to cremate.

Alfred smiled sadly. “Yes, I believe so. He forced Master Bruce to watch the original Star Wars trilogy once.” Jason smiled, wondering how he’d even managed that feat, but didn’t ask, not wanting to interrupt the tale. “Master Tim was so emotional at the funeral for Anakin Skywalker. I could see the awkwardness radiating out of Master Bruce. It was clear he didn’t quite know what to do.”

In the following day of driving, they had to make a few pit stops to buy more ice-cubes and dump the old ones so the body they were transporting didn’t start to warm up and putrefy.

Jason guessed the result would be the same either way, but he really prefered to be able to give Tim as much dignity in his funeral as he could. And as far as he was concerned, it included not letting him start to smell like a pile of garbage.

They picked a deserted beach at the foot of a ragged cliff, hoping the relief would hide their fire from the watchful eyes of fire departments, and waited for the evening to start moving their newly bought supplies and Tim.

There was quite a bit of wood, charcoal, and acetone bottles to move over a pretty long way, but Jason was strong and had quite a bit of endurance, so he took care of it while Alfred built the pyre.

When all the supplies were moved, and once the night was well fallen, Jason finally brought Tim. He was still fairly cold, and didn’t actually smell.

Feeling like this had all gotten much more real, Jason carefully wrapped Tim in the comforter, letting a tuft of hair poke out to make the human shape look more like a voluntary blanket burrito than a carpet wrapped corpse.

He reviewed his excuse: Yes, my brother fell asleep during the car ride. He never sleeps so I didn’t feel like waking him. I couldn’t let him in the car though. It’s okay, he barely weighs anything.

Jason didn’t see anyone, but the cover story had already started to make him shift his way of seeing things. Brothers…He shook himself off and hurried over to Alfred.

Now that Tim was out, they had to make haste. Getting caught with a corpse was absolutely not desirable.

“I know it’s stupidly romantic, but I can’t help thinking we should burn him with his weapon,” Jason said, sighing while dousing the comforter in acetone. (They should probably douse Tim too, but that was something neither of them could bring themselves to do, pouring acetone on a family member.)

Alfred smiled faintly and opened his backpack to pull a small cylinder out. Jason reached for it and unfolded it.

They quickly put Tim in position on top of the fire accelerant doused pyre. (Jason spared a moment to be thankful Tim had already been cut out of his fire retardant nomex uniform and dressed in cotton civilian clothes. He didn’t voice it, though, because he was fairly sure Alfred had been the one to do it and it must have been incredibly harrowing for him.)

Alfred took out a camcorder and a tripod and started recording the funeral pyre. It wasn’t meant as an archive, too risky, but as an inclusion, so the rest of the family would be able to see it at least once if they chose to.

Jason stared at Tim’s too pale dead face.

He had been suppressing his knowledge that Tim’s ‘body’ was actually Tim’s corpse. He’d been compartmentalising, and he knew it, thinking like Tim was in some sort of coma instead of dead. Even when he’d been browsing the barbecue section of the mall for the pyre’s material, he’d still been treating it like he was doing Tim a simple favor, rather than organizing a funeral.

Because he needed to be functional, because he couldn’t break down.

At last, Alfred and Jason folded the acetone doused comforter over Tim’s body and threw ropes over the pyre to anchor it down. (Apparently, Roman pyres sometimes ejected the person placed on top of it because of the abrupt heat, and they prefered to avoid this risk.)

Finally, they lit a couple of torches and touched them to the pile, lighting it up.

The pyre went up in flame with a wroof.

Jason retreated out of the camera’s recording field and huddled down.

That was it.

No more Tim.

Alfred, bless him, noticed his somber mood and gently rubbed his back as they watched the initial acetone fueled fury recede down to a more reasonable wood and coal fueled one.

“You should cry,” Jason rumbled.

“So should you, young man,” Alfred hummed back.

“Somehow I can’t,” he admitted, staring at the brazier. “But the kid deserves to have someone cry at his funeral. You knew him, you should do it.”

Jason felt numb. The heat of the fire was drying his lips and stinging his cheeks and forehead, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, let alone move away. Not with the burnt flesh smell and occasional explosion as the heat started to pulverise bones.

Even as tears started sliding down Alfred’s weathered old cheeks, the disconnect wouldn’t go.

He was still thinking about what if someone came. What if the fire department came by and noticed they were illegally getting rid of a body.

Thankfully, no one came by for the four hours it took for the fire to burn itself down to embers.

Somehow, Alfred had fallen asleep in the sand, dried tear tracks marring his face. It had been a very long 36 hours, after all, and Jason had no idea how long the man had been awake before he came in the cave to hear Tim’s will.

Jason didn’t wake him and raked the coals closer together with a long branch, looking out for any long bone or unburnt flesh that would need to be pushed closer to the embers.

There were some bone fragments, but thankfully no flesh, and once Jason had managed to push everything closer together, he took the last bottle of fire accelerant, poured it in a long handled steel pan and carefully dumped it on, then jumped out of the way of the new tongue of fire.

One hour later, Alfred still fast asleep, he carefully scooped the top layer of ashes into the big glass jar they had bought for them.

Once it got impossible to catch the ashes without taking sand with it, Jason took out the garbage bags and started scooping all the mixed sand and ashes he could into them.

Only then did he shake Alfred awake.

They silently took everything back to the van, drove a few miles to a wild looking patch of forest and buried the ashy sand.

“So. What now?” Alfred asked, looking at the Jar.

“Now,” Jason said with a sigh, “I drop you off at a train station so you can go back home to Gotham, and I get to burying these ashes in different locations.”

Alfred smiled sadly. “It’s probably for the best. It’ll give you boys the opportunity to spend some time together. Take him somewhere nice, hear me? I always thought the boy needed to go on vacations more.”

Jason swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Promise. Only the best places for little Red.”

Alfred looked equally choked up.

They climbed back in the van.

“Take care, young Master Jason,” Alfred whispered along with a rare hug in the deserted train station. “No matter the circumstances, it was good seeing you again.” Then he looked down at the Jar. “I’m counting on you to keep that one out of trouble, young man.”

And… Here were the tears again, Jason shuffled awkwardly while Alfred dabbed at his eyes.

He ran away as soon as the train came in the station, rather than stay for a last tearful goodbye.

“Well,” Jason told the Jar when he turned the key in the ignition. “Ready for a last adventure, Timbo?”

There wasn’t, Jason thought as he sieved the ashes into a mixing bowl to catch the chunky bits of charred bone, anything that could drive the reality of someone’s death in more deeply than having to crush their bones to a dust using seemingly innocent kitchen ustensils...

It took him a couple of hours to get the bones into fine enough a powder as to be totally inconspicuous in the granite mortar he’d bought especially for this purpose. He was so glad he’d managed to hide the chunks from Alfred, it wasn’t something he wanted the old butler to even have to think about.

“So? Do you like it here?” Jason asked Tim’s Jar.

He was aware that Tim was dead and talking to his ashes looked an awful lot like madness, but to be fair, next to the Pit madness, any other form of it was an improvement.

“I like it. It’s nice. I think you’ll be happy here.” With a small smile, Jason reached for his shovel and started digging.

Once the hole was a couple of feet deep, Jason knelt by it and dumped a handful of ashes in.

Well, ashes and some sand. Most air travel companies didn’t let funeral urns travel in the passenger cabin. Jason had used colorful sands to make Tim’s Jar look more like a souvenir decorative sand bocal than a jar of human ashes. He was sure Tim didn’t mind going undercover, he’d been trained to it, after all.

When he was done shovelling soil back in the hole, Jason sprawled next to it, basking in the beauty of the spot he’d chosen to be yet another of Tim’s graves.

“So, where to next?” he asked his deceased brother. When, predictably, no answer came, he smiled. “I think you’d like Tibet. Let’s go to Tibet. Maybe I can find somewhere you like in the Himalayas.”

Jason stared at the hole. The last one he’d have to dig after what seemed like a hundred of them (it really wasn’t though).

The scenery was pretty perfect, blue sky over a lush green mountain, not too high, and still pretty wild. It went well with the rest of his string of small graves.

With a grimace, he tipped the small glass bocal (he’d switched the Jar out for smaller containers as he went) over the hole.

A part of him was saying to only dump half of the ashes down, to keep going for a bit more.

Finally, tears welled up.

He knew he hadn’t actually needed to divide the ashes half as much as he had. It had been an excuse, to be able to hold onto his little brother for a bit more time. Not that he’d ever been much of a brother to him, except for this one last time when it mattered most.

The same part of him asked again if they did have to bury all the ashes. He could keep an ounce of them after all, keep a bit of it, for memory.

Jason shook the bocal to dislodge the last of the dusts in it and scooped a handful of soil over the ashes immediately afterward before he could lose his nerve.

It was time he said goodbye.

It was time to let Tim go.

Jason finally started to sob, crying over the too young hero. Over the little brother he never actually managed to bond with. Over the Robin, dead, just like him, and the fact that it was what it had taken for Jason to finally pay attention to him.

He cried, long and hard.

Then he took his shovel and filled this last hole back up.

“Wherever you are now, I hope you are more happy than you were when you left us,” he murmured. “I can’t remember being dead, so I can only hope.”

He looked around. “This has been fun, kinda. I hope you liked our little adventure as much as I did. I just. I. I’m just sad and sorry we couldn’t do that while you were alive.”

He sniffed, rubbing at his eyes. “Farewell, Tim.”

Breathing deeply, he placed the bocal next to the upturned soil and stepped back, taking his cellphone out. He walked far enough away that he could get the mini-grave in the camera’s frame along with a good chunk of the scenery.

He hadn’t documented any other locations, but seeing the quantity of different places he’d scattered Tim’s ashes across, just one picture wouldn’t hurt too much.

-Coming back to Gotham now- He included with the picture to Alfred.

It was, after all, time to move on. Jason definitely should try and talk to Damian so he didn’t have to mourn another stranger of a little brother ever again. (The thought hit him suddenly, that it was exactly what Dick had said to explain his much more developed relationship to Tim as it had been to him.)

His phone chimed with a reply.

-I am looking forward to your return-