The first time it happened, Jason was returning from a bad night. Or, his definition of a bad night, where none of the bad guys stuck around long enough to be shot, except for one punk who was so young and so mixed in with the wrong crowd Jason actually let him go. And so when he sees a lump on his bed and a tuft of hair he's in a stab-first-ask-questions later mood. Except of course he doesn't want to spill blood over his precious bed.

The bed's the only nice thing in his otherwise spartan studio apartment. It was the one thing he decided to splurge on because superheroes need a good night's sleep, or sleep whenever they can get it. So he sighs and settles for the Eskrima sticks. What he doesn't expect though, is for the stick to be caught mid-air before it can land on its target and the Demon's voice saying, "Wake me up and I'll kill you."

Jason stares in a bit of disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

The child's voice is haughty and he still has his back turned to the older man. He's wrapped in Jason's 1000 thread count sheets and wool comforter. "What does it look like? I'm sleeping, or trying to sleep."

Jason snarls, "why the fuck aren't you back at the Mansion sleeping with the rest of the bats?"

Damian sighs, "Gordon and Grayson are fighting, OK? It got loud, and I felt… an overwhelming desire to kill the both of them, so I decided to come here."

"How the…" Jason starts but settles for shaking his head. "What the fuck, I'm too tired for this shit. Budge over and if you kick me, wake me up, steal the covers off of me, or do anything to damage this bed I will make sure to riddle your broken body with bullets, understood?"

Damian simply snorts and warns, "you're getting closer to waking me up old man."

Jason lies awake on half the bed for a good half hour before he can fall asleep. At some point Damian yawns, and quickly muffles it. But not before Jason catches it and smiles. Ah, so he's not fully asleep after all. Good, he's not a fool to think he can sleep so deeply in the presence of a madman like the Red Hood.

—-

By the third time, Jason is not even startled. He just begrudgingly accepts that whatever commotion it is in the Batcave this time, the kid just needs an out. They don't speak and both of them sleep on their side, back to each other with a smart amount of sheets puddled in between.

—-

The fourth time it happens, there's a bigger gap in time so Jason's genuinely surprised again. Though he can't dawdle too much because the bullet grazed his left side and the raw muscle hurts. He needs to sew it up and he's rummaging around the bathroom, not caring how much noise he makes or if he wakes up the Demon spawn.

Fuck, he just remembered that he was out of peroxide and he hadn't bothered to replace his kit since he figured he would take a break tonight before the thugs attacked a vic right in front of him and he thought it was too good of an opportunity to not pass up. He beat them all, no shots needed, but didn't count on one of the morons packing a secret Beretta in a jacket pocket. Damn, that's what he gets for being soft.

He curses, wondering how the hell he's going to get supplies now, at this hour, and in the briefest moments and with only part of his brain, he contemplates calling Tim. Until he's interrupted by a voice from the next room.

"I brought you extra, in my bag by the bed."

Shit! He'd almost forgotten the little brat was here. He's teetering between annoyance and gratitude but it's Jason Todd so of course, his only reply is to say, "And you left it there and didn't think to bring it to me when I got in?"

"Don't be a lazy fuck and get it yourself Todd, I warned you about waking me up didn't I?"

Jason grumbles, but gets the supplies, damn the kid brought him extra everything. He patches himself up, showers, and crawls into bed half an hour later. In the softest voice possible, he murmurs a thanks, but realizes when no retort comes that the little Demon has actually fallen completely asleep.

—-

The next time it happens, it's not Damian. That much Todd is sure of when he hears a voice way too polite to belong to a Demon ask, "can I spend the night here?"

"Replacement? What the hell you… you have your own apartment for crying out loud!"

Tim just shrugs, takes it as an affirmative, and climbs in through the window. "Landlord found evidence of a mold infestation so they're taking a few days to check it out."

Jason nearly explodes, "go to the fucking Mansion! My apartment isn't some halfway house for idiotic Robins who want to leave the nest!"

Tim gives him an apologetic look, "sorry Jay, no can do. Bruce is in a murderous mood this week since Damian successfully painted every room a bright, neon color after sending Alfred off on a wild goose change errand. Not even Dick is dumb enough to hang around there right now. The kid is totally grounded, and then some."

Jason palms his forehead and forces himself to breathe deep.

Tim flashes a thumb drive in front of him, "but since we're doing this sleepover"—Jason groans—"I brought some evidence with me. For the case you've been bugging me about. I thought we could go over it a bit."

Jason sighs in defeat and nods at Tim to set up his laptop. Tim was definitely more helpful than Damian at least.

—-

It doesn't happen again for a few months. Jason still prowls about at night. His little corner of Gotham roof space free from all other Bat interference. But he pops by Tim's now-mold-free apartment about once a week for intel. He was never good at the hacking bit, and he's glad now he's somehow found a way to outsource almost all of it to the Red Robin.

They're having dinner and looking over the evidence when Tim's cell rings and Jason catches Dick in the caller ID before Tim snatches it up and answers.

"Hey."

Jason strains to hear, because he's always been nosy like that, but of course the phone belongs to Tim, and it would be impossible to hear anything unless Tim wanted you to.

"Got it, there in 5."

Tim hangs up and looks up, "gotta go Jay, Nightwing needs some on-site forensics"—ever careful not to give away too many details to the Red Hood—"before the cops arrive."

Jason just nods and waves him away. He's still poring over the evidence on Tim's laptop for his own case. That and nobody's going to rush him through dinner. Eating fast is unhealthy.

He's all wrapped up and because he's nice, even put the dishes in the sink for Drake when he grins and has an idea.

Which is why Tim returns and finds Jason sound asleep in his bed. He just shrugs and goes to sleep on the other half.

Jason, on the other hand, wakes up in the morning and grumbles about how it was the worst night's sleep he's ever gotten. The bed is way too soft and doesn't provide support anywhere and now he's got a headache.

Tim tries in vain to smother a smile as he makes breakfast for the two of them.

—-

Even though he's vowed to never sleep in someone else's bed again, he's not surprised that no one else seems to have made the same promise. The next time the tuft of hair (he's recognized that weird little tuft at the top of his hurricane as something that is a uniquely Demon trait) is back to greet him after patrol he doesn't even roll an eye. He does, however, frown when he hears a knock at his window.

Tim's picked the lock and entered before he even has a chance to think about who it might be.

"Damian!"

The youngest Robin cracks open an eye at his older counterpart, slightly fuming above him.

"Drake." He acknowledges monotonously.

"I told you I was sleeping here tonight, you need to find some other place to go!"

Damian just shrugs and pulls the comforter tighter around him.

"Now hold on just a minute," Jason starts, now he's actually annoyed. "Why the fuck are both of you here anyways? Replacement, why aren't you at your apartment? And Demon, why the fuck aren't you at his apartment, and hold on"—Jason smacks himself for just realizing it—"why haven't you always gone to his apartment?"

Damian, not missing a beat, says condescendingly, "Drake's bed is a pile of mush. Gives me cramps."

That, Jason thinks, he can agree with.

"Sorry, Jay," Tim says, and Jason is glad that at least he has the capacity to look somewhat embarrassed, "I can't go back to my apartment because I told Stephanie she and her civvies friends could borrow it for a sleepover. You know, they think it's cool and all, a nice place in the city to themselves. I have no idea why Damian is here, though," his voice rises, "because I specifically texted him and told him that I was coming here tonight!"

"Early bird gets the worm." Damian says.

Jason cries, "it's not early, it's late! I'm back from patrol already!"

"Exactly," Damian continues, "it's 3am, it's early. Dumbass."

Jason groans, he's way too tired for this shit. Whatever, he thinks, crawling into the bed.

Tim is still standing and glaring at Damian, "Damian, I called it, go sleep on the couch."

Damian lifts his head up and challenges the other, "are you mad? I can't fucking sleep on a couch, and definitely not on Todd's dingy couch. You go sleep there!"

Tim snarls and reaches down to pull the younger kid off the bed by force. They end up trading blows right in his fucking bedroom.

"HEY ASSHOLES," Jason says shooting two blanks that sound too real and immediately getting their attention, "this is MY apartment. You can't come and insult MY furniture and sleep in MY bed whenever you want! Now I happen to be fucking EXHAUSTED and am too tired to give a FUCKING SHIT about your problems, so find a place to sleep AND FUCKING LET ME REST!"

They both gape at him, both probably unnerved by the reminder of his previous attempts to kill both of them. Jason smirks, maybe it will get them out of his hair for good.

But when morning comes and he realizes he's almost falling out of the bed because they've both decided to sleep there leaving the "dingy" couch unoccupied, he's tempted to replace the blanks with real bullets.

At least until he notices that the Replacement has actually draped an arm around the little Demon, and both are fully asleep in a somewhat big and little spoon position. Jason tip toes to not wake them and grabs something from his jacket. Dick's not the only one with a camera and the capacity for blackmail.

—-

Over breakfast a month later he remembers to ask, "hey Replacement, how did the little Demon get my address?"

Tim flushes a bit.

"I knew it! You gave it to that little brat!"

Tim raises his hands in defense, "well, he tried sleeping at my place once and it hurt his Majesty's back so I had to give him some other place to go to, and since Dick gave up his apartment when he moved back to the Mansion, what else could I do? The kid doesn't exactly have a social circle!"

Jason just waves his hand and asks, "ok I'm assuming you hacked some system somewhere to find my address, so that's it right? Please just tell me it's just you and the Demon who know where I live."

Tim raises his eyes thoughtfully, "well, I mean, I'm pretty sure Bruce knows…"

Jason shrugs, having long accepted that fact as well. If Drake could find out, surely Daddy Bats could.

"But… er… I think Dick also knows."

"You think or you know?" he demands, "and how would the Golden Boy know? You told him, too?"

"No!" Tim says in his own defense, "But, it's Dick! He ca—watches out for you. I think he just… tracked you down one time and well, you haven't exactly moved since."

Jason mulls this information over in his head.

"Wait, what do you mean he 'watches out for me'?"

"Well… I think he… um… I think he maybe tails you on patrol every once in a while." Tim lamely finishes.

Jason's eyes narrow. "Is that why all I've been dealing with are street thugs and goons? No major baddies? No clowns? Because goody-two-shoes is too afraid I'll pop a few in their brains and taking them away in cuffs before I can get to them?"

Tim shrugs, genuinely unsure. "No idea man. I don't think so because it'd be pretty exhausting for him to patrol here and also Blüdhaven, but I guess anything is possible."

Jason frowns, he was going to have to have a chat with Nightwing about this, and soon.

—-

He doesn't get the chance to, however. But he does get his wish. He's facing off against the Joker one night when one of the man's infuriating toys—a 10 feet auto-extend baton with a very very sharp blade at the end—stabs him through the right bicep and pins him to the wall.

The crazy bastard laughs through the injuries that the Red Hood's already inflicted and walks (albeit with a stumble, Jason notes with great satisfaction) toward him. Jason's left hand is already on the baton, struggling to remove it, but without much luck. There are rivers of blood flowing down his right arm and he's worried that the blade severed a nerve that would paralyze his arm forever. Not to mention, everything is starting to feel slow and he knows that stake was tipped in poison. Poison probably designed to kill.

"I caught you baby Bats!" The psycho murmurs with glee. "Now what will I do with you? How will I pay you back for our last date?"

Jason bites his lip, not daring to respond.

"I know!" the Joker crows, "I'm going to take this," he gestures at his own free right hand which is now holding a deadly blade, "and I'm going to carve you out. I'm going to spill your intestines right here and you're going to die again, by my hand not that even the silly poison!"

"You're going to die in an alley again, with nobody to save you. Because you aren't a member of the Bats anymore!" That laugh is going to kill him, Jason thinks.

"Don't—" he breathes in deeply, the pain sharp.

"What was that?" the Joker leans in, cupping his ear with his hand, mocking him. "What did you say? My dear dead bird?"

Jason breathes, "just gonna say… don't need nobody else…" His left hand pops the cap, all the while still pretending to grip the baton. A little closer, just a little closer.

"What? Speak up my dear boy, what?"

There! "Don't need nobody else to help me, asshole!" His left arm swings. The liquid flies out of the tube and hits the clown right in the face. The Joker screams as the acid quickly works on flesh and muscle. He's going to wake up the world, Jason thinks numbly.

He's never heard a scream like that but he hears the vengeance as the clown backs away from him quickly, brutally removing the stake from his arm and letting the blood flow freely. The Joker's flailing about, dropping every weapon, every toy from his jacket.

Fuck, Jason thinks, he's going to blow everything up right here. He doesn't care anymore, as long as I go, he—

But Jason's head pitches forward before he can finish that thought. And the world goes black.

—-

He wakes up to to the slow beep of the heart rate monitor. And to a pair of green eyes looking at him without any emotion.

"Demon?" He croaks.

Damian ignores this and just calls out, "Grayson, he's awake."

Dick is there before he can even think about where he might be, pressing a glass of water to his lips.

It hurts to swallow but the liquid soothes his dry mouth so he forces himself to take two sips.

"Where am I?"

"Home. You're safe, now rest."

He didn't even have a chance to make a retort, or at least ask if he'd got the Joker before Dick's command and the drugs the man probably slipped into his drink take over and he's asleep again.

—-

He doesn't perceive much so he has no idea how much time has gone by. Just hazy images that flit through his mind. The Demon looking at him. Golden Boy looking at him with a somber expression and red eyes. The Replacement babbling on about something with his laptop open and propped against his bed. His bed? Ah, no, the bed at the Mansion. Not at his apartment. But the two feel the same anyways. He won't tell anyone that when he came back from the dead, he snuck into the house just to find out where Bruce had bought his bed from so he could get the same one.

More images. Bruce or Batman was it. Cowl and cape or no? He doesn't know. But one of them watches over him, and lays a hand on his forehead.

—-

"It's been 4 days, that poison did a number on your system, Jay." Tim informs him when he's lucid again.

"We had to flush out everything, made a lot harder by that hole in your arm by the way."

A chill runs down his spine, "my arm… is it—"

"—it will be fine," Tim interrupts. "The stake missed the nerve, but just by a little bit. You probably won't be back out there until after a month's worth of therapy, I'd guess."

Jason sighs in annoyance, but at least the breath comes easy.

"And the Joker?" He asks, completely expecting that whoever saved him simply hauled the clown away to Arkham where again he would be healed, and again he would break out. Fuck.

"He's…" Tim pauses, "he's dead, Jay."

Jason looks up, not really willing to believe.

"By the time we got there, he had detonated every device on him. The acid burned away his eyes so he couldn't see, couldn't get out. We didn't have time to take him"—Jason burns with anger, they would have tried to save the fucking clown, again!—"and you at the same time so we left and the explosions killed him."

He's dead. Finally, the bastard that's haunted every nightmare he's ever had since his resurrection. Dead.

And while he's happy, he knows what that means for him now. For all of them.

"So…" he starts, not willing to admit out loud how much the sense of normalcy and peace they'd achieved meant to him. "Guess that means you'll want me behind bars, right? Murderer that I am and all…" His voice turns bitter, "Golden Boy's probably already cleaning out my apartment and organizing the paperwork so when Jason Todd goes behind bars it doesn't have anything to do with the Wayne name."

"Jay," Tim looks at his with wide eyes, "what are you talking about? Why would we do that?"

"Don't fuck with me Replacement. You're all goodies. Not me, I'm a baddie. Imagine what—"

"Jay, Jason, stop." Tim says, with the voice of a leader that Jason is sure has halted many a Teen Titan in their tracks.

"The Joker died in an accident he himself caused. The public is celebrating. Red Hood, and mostly certainly Jason Todd, had nothing to do with it."

Jason looked at him in disbelief, "how the fuck are you getting the world to buy that Replacement? By now, you know the acid I used on him. It would've burned his brains out even without his toys going kaboom."

"So?" Tim challenged.

Jason just stared. "Are you… are you lying on my behalf Tim?"

"We all are."

The voice of Dick floated in and Jason was so preoccupied he hadn't even heard the Golden Boy enter.

"Why?" He said, he still didn't get it. "Why would any of you… that's not you!"

"Jay," Dick sighed and sat gingerly down on the bed, running a hand through his hair. "We don't condone killing, but… Jay, I don't think you'll understand this no matter how I say it. Jay, we don't condone killing, we don't condone murder, but we do love our brother. And we're not going to lose him."

Jason winces. Always Dick with the mushy stuff.

"Besides," Damian pipes up and Jason looks at him, "by you killing him, you've removed the temptation for me to kill him someday."

Dick glares at the little Demon, "Damian," he admonishes, "don't say that."

The youngest simply shrugs and Jason wonders how Bruce could have possibly adopted that one. But if he did, and if he loves him still, then maybe…

"Jay, only the four of us know what went down. Me because before the whole place blew up I collected a sample of everything that I've analyzed. And these two idiots," Tim says, frowning at them, "only know because Damian broke into my apartment and I was asleep at the desk, then he blabbed to Dick about it."

Damian gave the other a self-satisfied smirk, "I told you, Drake, that eventually you falling asleep in front of your work with everything unlocked and for the world to see would eventually come back to haunt you."

"Anyway, I've destroyed everything. So only we know."

Jason laughed bitterly, "you really think you can hide something like that from Bruce?"

"No, we probably can't," Dick said, nodding in agreement, "he probably knows. But Jason, he doesn't care."

When Jason still doesn't get it, it's Damian who pipes up. "God you're dumb, no one ever told me how dumb you were. Father wouldn't care if you riddled the Joker with bullets because all Father wants, all Father has ever wanted is to have you home. He's probably able to overlook anything short of you killing me or Drake. He's been here every night checking up on you, far more than any of us. He hopes if this vengeance is out of your system you'll stay at home."

Jason is about to respond but the disbelief must have dried up his energy because the world tips again and he falls asleep before anything else can be said.

—-

The next time he wakes up he's alone and he's really annoyed and how long he's been stuck in a bed. But hardly a moment passes when Dick is walking in with more water.

"That drugged?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

Dick scoffs, "as if you could handle more drugs in your system."

He hands him the glass and Jason accepts it with his left hand, grateful to at least be able to do something for himself. He takes a few big gulps.

"So, who found me that night?" He asks.

"Does it matter?"

Jason shrugs.

"Technically I guess Tim, since he's been tracking you for a while now."

Jason sputters, "he what?!"

Dick looks surprised. "Do you not know him? I thought you guys have been hanging out for nearly a year now…"

Jason indignantly says, "how? when?"

Dick shrugs and laughs, "hell if I know. Tim likes to bug everyone to keep tabs on them. More of a stalker than Bruce. He bugged Damian the minute he accepted that little D was here to stay… uh… oops, don't tell Damian OK?" he finishes sheepishly.

Jason just stares, and he's annoyed by how much he's doing that lately.

Dick explains, "it's how you know he cares about you. I mean, you know you guys are cool right? He told me you apologized for almost killing him. Well, apologized in your Jason way."

When Jason doesn't say anything, Dick puts his hand on his left shoulder and says sympathetically, "look Jay, I get it. This 'mushy' stuff is hard for you. But just so you know, you have a family. Didn't you ask me that once? If we could be a family again? Well, you got it. Even Damian made a remark about how he no longer wanted to kill you when you were still knocked out." He chuckles.

"I'm not saying we expect you to move in tomorrow and start giving out hugs…"

Jason stares at him mortified.

"…but just know that, well, now that the Joker is dead, we hope you'll want to come back someday. And if not immediately, then we'll settle for coming over to yours, and I promise I'll even announce it when I'm outside your window watching you sleep."

Jason's head snaps up at that and he's reaching out to swipe at Dick with his left hand but his brother is already leaving and laughing as he goes.

—-

He's out of bed the end of day 6, the poison finally flushed fully out of his system. He leaves in the middle of the day, and it's not a surprise to anyone that he's going. So much so that it's Dick that drives him over to his apartment and when he gets inside, he feels an overwhelming sensation of familiarity and strangeness all in one.

Tim and Dick drop by frequently to check up on his health, to his great annoyance. But he appreciates it all the same. Once when they show up simultaneously, one at his window and one at his door, he threatens to move, declaring that he's already been looking at listings. When Tim deadpans with the exact complex that he'd been looking at however, he shrivels in shock while Dick just grins.

He works out in his room for a month, slowly regaining the muscle before trying to go on patrol. The streets have been silent, he suspects that one of the Robins have been patrolling here every night since he returned. Still, he's getting antsy sitting at home.

It surprises him that by the time he's reached the rooftop of his own building, he's already a bit winded. It surprises him more that it's not Dick or Tim that he sees, but the Demon, smirking at him.

"Hey old man," the Demon starts.

He groans, when has that become his nickname,

"Want to spar? I want to see how weak you've gotten."

He snarls at the little brat, fine, if that's how he wants to play it.

But the Demon is right after all, seeing as how he's gotten the bigger man on his back in 3 minutes flat.

Damian regularly spars with him. Jason doesn't ask why Robin isn't on patrol or where Nightwing is. He doesn't care and frankly can't think too much when the kid's katana is flying at him from all sides. Ouch, damn, kid's good.

He starts to regain the upper hand in another month or so, when there's almost no semblance of pain in his right arm anymore. The little Demon grumbled the first time Jason flipped him on his back and had his gun out and pointed at the Robin. Jason laughed, "checkmate!"

Damian growled and knocked the gun away and launched himself again. Jason just caught him and jumped backward off the roof, forcing an almost squeak from the Demon as he frantically tried to get out of Jason's grip to fire his grappling gun, but Jason beat him to it. The Red Hood laughed maniacally as he swung the two of them in a wide arc to the next roof.

"Never do that again, Todd!" Damian yelled as soon as they'd landed and he'd shrugged off Jason's tight grip.

Jason just smiled and ruffled Robin's hair. It was as close to a thank you as he'd ever say.

—-

He stops minding when one of them stops by or spends the night. He keeps his window unlocked and everyone knows that's his way of welcoming them. Or, that it's his way of accepting their acceptance of him. That they are a family again.

He's awake one night with Damian fast asleep next to him. This time, Damian and Dick had gotten into a big argument, with the Demon proclaiming that he'd disappear so that Dick could never find him ever again. When Jason heard the story, all he could think about was how it could be that his littlest of brothers could be so mature yet so childish all at once.

He's staring at the ceiling, when the shadow of a long cape, much longer than Red Robin's, flits across it. He smiles, first time he's caught the Man himself lurking outside, even though he'd never talk about it, not that Bruce would ever admit to anything in the first place.

He brings Damian back to the Mansion for their monthly brunch the next day and the little Demon and Golden Boy are still not talking to each other. But everyone else is and even though not everyone is talking directly to him, Jason welcomes the lack of fear in the crowd, fear of him.

He spends some time with Barbara in a corner, the first time they've had a real conversation since he came back. No one knows what they talked about, but when they're done Jason has a smile on his face, the first one Bruce has seen in a long time—a real genuine smile.

—-

The last time it happens, it's Dick that's sprawled face down on his bed. Jason frowns, but before he has a chance to speak, Golden Boy beats him to the punch.

"Nerves, it's the nerves."

"Ah," Jason pretends to nod all-knowingly, "the big wedding day freaking you out?"

"Something like that."

And Jason likes that, he likes that even his big brother has that vulnerability about him that makes him human. He doesn't really know what to do so he just says, "you'll be fine."

"I know. As long as Damian doesn't pull some kind of crazy prank," Dick growls, "I can just see getting my tux tomorrow and finding out it's been dyed some horrible color."

Jason laughs, and nudges Dick's arm over so he can take back half his bed.

"Don't worry about that, I talked to Replacement and he's on Demon-monitoring duty for the last week. Damian hasn't been able to go to the bathroom without Tim knowing exactly what he's doing."

"Thanks."

There's a silence there, but Dick breaks it, with a question and just the tiniest bit of doubt.

"You'll be there?"

Jason pauses for a second, hating that it is his reckless past behavior is the reason this question even needs to be asked.

"Of course. We'll all be there." He reassures.

Dick releases the breath he'd been subconsciously holding, and nods into Jason's pillow. They're asleep in minutes.