glaciya:

Even though there’s been no answer the last six times Tim has called Dick’s number, Tim can’t help trying again. He sniffs, rubbing a hand across his eyes as it starts to ring. By the third ring, he’s curled up on his couch in a sitting fetal position, left arm around his legs, forehead resting on his knees, and right hand pressing the phone hard against his ear.

He never bothered turning on the lights when he first came home, knowing the brightness would be harsh on his already overwhelmed senses, so darkness surrounds him. He’s wearing Kon’s shirt and the softest sweatpants his owns, meaning that all he can smell now is the fabric softener Alfred uses when he washes clothes. He thinks now, if he can just hear Dick’s voice, things might be okay.

The phone stops ringing.

“‘Lo this is Dick speaking,” says a voice that is definitely not Dick.

Tim holds the phone away from his head, squinting at the screen and- yes, it’s definitely Dick’s number.

“Hello?” Not Dick says again. He sounds incredibly familiar.

“Jason?” Tim croaks, shoving the phone back against his ear.

A pause, then, “Replacement?”

The harsh nickname makes him flinch, and Tim thinks he really should just hang up. Knowing Jason and his tendency to pick on Tim, to shout or cuss, he’d only make things worse. Normally Tim can handle it, but not today.

“Why do you have Dick’s phone?” he asks instead. He curls back in the position he was in before Jason picked up.

“Stole it,” Jason answers simply. “What are you doing calling him at-” a pause, “four in the morning.”

Tim opens his mouth to make an excuse, to say something that appease Jason’s curiosity so Tim can hang up and not be subject to anymore ridicule today, what comes out instead is a wounded, animal noise.

“What the fuck,” Jason says. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Tim says, his voice wobbling. It’s a dead give away that he’s crying.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Are you safe?”

“Yes I’m safe,” Tim says quickly. “I just needed someone to talk to, I guess.”

“Oh,” Jason says. “Dickie’s pretty good at that, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim should hang up now, before things get even more awkward, but he can’t find it in himself to pull the phone away from his ear and end the call. And, for some reason, Jason isn’t hanging up either.  “What are you up to?” he asks, then cringes at the lame question.

“Burying a body.”

Tim snorts. “Wait. Really?”

“Hell no, I’m a crime boss, Timmy. I’ve got people who get paid to bury bodies for me.”

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

Jason laughs, a loud boyish sound that shouldn’t come from a man hiring people to bury bodies for him. Tim decides it’s not true. Probably not true. Then Jason says, “Nah I’m just hanging around the base, playing a few rounds of Mario Kart with Biz.”

“Tell Red-Bird Me say hello!” a distant, excited shout comes from Jason’s end.

“Bizarro says hello, Tim.”

“Hello Biz,” Tim says softly, knowing Bizarro will be able to hear him.

“Tell Red-Bird if he am needing tissues, me can fly some over!” Again, he’s talking loud enough that Jason doesn’t need to repeat his words. “Me do it for Red-Him when he cries.”

“Okay,” Jason says quickly. “That’s my cue to take this conversation to a different room. Biz, you stay here and don’t cheat.”

“Me would never!”

Tim hears Jason shuffling around before a door slams shut, signaling Jason moving away from Biz.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tim says.

“Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Because of what Bizarro said.”

“Oh,” Jason sounds surprised, like that hadn’t occurred to him. “I’m not embarrassed about crying. I just didn’t want him telling you the things that make me cry. Can’t have you telling the rest of the bats my weaknesses.”

“I already know them.”

“Oh really?”

“Really,” Tim says, smiling playing on his lips. “Your daddy issues, shiny things, Bizarro, and red-heads that are taller than you.”

“Oh no. Looks like you’ve figured me out,” Jason’s chuckle is low and pleasing to Tim’s ears. “You don’t have to be embarrassed either,” he adds, more seriously. “Crying isn’t something to be ashamed of and neither is needing to talk to someone about it, even if that person is complete shit at comforting.”

Tim laughs, and sniffs. He actually stopped crying around the beginning of the conversation, the shock of actually having a pleasant conversation with Jason overcoming his grief. His nose is taking awhile to get the memo though. “You’re doing okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees. “Thank you.”

“Well uh. Good.” Jason clears his throat. “We can keep talking…if you want.”

Tim breathes in, a deep, even breath that comes easier than all the ones before. “I’d really like that.”