Work Text:
Outside, Looking In
He hadn’t been Robin for very long, but Tim Drake tried hard to live up to the legacy.
The Legacy was more than just Dick Grayson, Tim was quick to discover, and at least when he went to visit Jason’s grave he didn’t feel like he was being evaluated for optimum levels of Robinness.
It was quiet in the cemetery, and unlike stories of cold and ghostly presences, Jason’s tombstone felt like a welcoming perch. Not warm or safe, and definitely not like ‘home’ – whatever that word meant – but as if Jason welcomed his company.
The night Tim arrived to find Jason clawing his way out of the casket was surreal and more than a bit terrifying.
But Tim was Robin, and Weird Shit™ was a Gotham special, so he just alerted Oracle and asked her to wait a bit before calling Bruce. Then he grabbed a batarang and started to help chip Jason out of his prison.
Once Jason was out, he didn’t seem quite all there, and the only (coherent) word he could say was, “Bruce…” but he appeared whole and about as healthy as a formerly dead teenager could.
He had a heartbeat, and he breathed, so at least he wasn’t a zombie, however much he acted like he was mostly mindless. Also, he seemed to recognize the Robin uniform.
He seemed rather envious of the pants, too.
Tim couldn’t blame him. He was envious of the shocked, yet completely sincere, smile that Bruce – not Batman, Bruce – got on his face when he saw Jason for the first time.
“Jay…” he whispered in a choked voice, and hugged his second son so tightly Tim was sure he heard bones creak.
“Bruce…” And Jay hugged him back, the lights turning on upstairs at the sight of the familiar face.
It was a family reunion, and once again, Tim was standing on the outside. But he was Robin, and he could be patient.