Some bonding Batboys! I wanted to write a Jason and Dick brotherly bonding thing, but I was like... let's throw in time travel. And I was also watching the Time Traveler's wife, expect this is brothers and no romance.

Hope you enjoy!

I don't own anyThing.

It isn't often, anymore, that Jason finds himself barely waking up on a Gotham rooftop with a splitting headache. It's been a long time, really. So when Jason wakes up in the half shadow of an access door to a roof, he is, understandably, confused. He picks himself up off the ground and dusts his pants off and checks to make sure he has his guns and his helmet. The guns are a go, and the helmet is siting just a few feet away, hidden in the shadow of the roof ledge. Jason stumbles over, his headache splitting up to his temples.

As he reaches down to pick up the helmet, someone huffs behind him. It sounds like a kid, maybe, and so Jason scowls but doesn't turn around because he really doesn't want to deal with Damian right now. If they kid had seen him passed out on the roof, then Jason would be A-Okay splitting for a few weeks or so out of embarrassment. Then again, if they kid had seen him and also ignored him, Jason would be pretty pissed.

"Who are you?"

Jason freezes because, well, that's not Damian's voice. Damian's voice is a slightly accented, kinda nasally thing of a kid who hasn't quite hit puberty yet but is on his way there. It's a little shrill at times, but only when one of them really manages to piss him off. But this voice is, yeah, okay, accented, but not a posh British-Arabic mix. It's kinda Eastern European and a little Gotham and a little everything. The kids voice is young, young enough to be younger than Damian. Maybe Jason is waking up on someone's apartment?

Slowly, he slides his helmet on and turns around, hands up by his shoulders. He can feel the sun peeking through the Gotham smog and forming around his head. It's a halo of solid, gold warmth around him, casting everything in an eerie yellow blue light. But it's sunset, and in the distance in front of him a navy blue sky is growing on the horizon.

Jason shivers as he looks at the figure in front of him.

It's Robin. Or, rather, a Robin. Because there's been like four and a half, and this costume is old. It's Dick's very first one— the one with no pants and green gloves and bright yellow cape. In fact, this has to be Dick, but Jason's also not so sure because there's a lot of baby fat on his face but it's the way his hair parts on his head and the strong, kind of confident stance that lets Jason believe this might not be a dream because how can you dream about something so, so detailed when you never experienced it yourself?

The kid is standing there, leaning against the access door, arms crossed and a frown on his face. His cheeks and nose are red, and he looks a little cold. He's also tiny. Short. A twig. Jason opens his mouth and then closes it and has half a mind to offer Not-Dick his jacket because it's late fall (Right?) it's Gotham, the kid has to be freezing. Not-Dick jumps a little off the edge and puts his hands on his hips, squinting his eyes and looking Jason over. He hasn't let down his guard, so Jason knows if he moves then Not-Dick will probably bolt.

"Does Batman know you're here?" Jason asks, tilting his head a little.

The kid, because Jason isn't sure what to call him and saying Not-Dick just makes him think of a Dildo, kind of shuffles a little awkwardly. His shoulders fall a little and then pick back up, tilting his head up to feign confidence. Or maybe he wasn't faking, maybe he really was confident.

"Batman is occupied," the kid says, rolling back onto his heels and then to the balls of his feet. "So… you have to deal with me."

The kid can't be more than eight or nine.

Jason nods a little and looks around. Maybe Dick was like… de-aged? That might make sense, but it wouldn't explain the costume. Unless a long time ago, Dick had stashed costumes around Gotham and they had remained there in perfect condition for almost a decade. Time travel?

"Okay," Jason says, "Fair enough. You're Robin, yeah?"

The kid puffs his chest out a little but doesn't move an inch. He's twitching a little, rolling back on his feet, and he looks like he's ready to fling himself off the roof. He wants to move. "Yeah!" he says proudly, "the one and only!"

"One of a kind, huh?" Jason asks then, because he needs to know what's going on.

Robin shrugs. "Only one there's ever been and will be. Who are you? You never answered my question? Why do you carry guns?"

Jason slowly lowers his hands and then glances down at his weapons. "I'm… a friend." He pats his one gun and Robin sort of flinches like he's ready to dodge, so Jason drops both his hands and keeps them in view. "These are my weapons."

"Weapons," Robin repeated, putting his hands back on his hips. "Villains usually use guns as weapons."

Jason kind of stifles a little at that and tries not to laugh. Clearly, Bruce was working his anti-fun magic early on because Robin can't be older than ten. Barely. "Maybe I'm a hero and I use guns. Thought about that?"

Robin tilted his head to the side and turns a little as if he's about to leave. "I should go get Batman—."

"No!" Jason chirps harshly, and the kids face drops. "No, no. You don't have to do that. I'm not a villain. I promise. I'm not even doing anything wrong, just standing around. Chilling."

The boy pauses and seemingly decides that Jason isn't a threat. He stays there a moment and then shrugs. "I should still go. But I won't get Batman, but…"

"I wasn't even here, alright?" Jason says. He was thinking that maybe getting Batman wouldn't be a bad idea if he did accidently time travel, or if the little Robin did. Then again, Bruce could barely handle Jason's guns in 2017, he doubted that he'd be even willing to listen to Jason at all. In fact, he'd probably pull Robin away from Jason and that thought sort of made him shiver a little. He might've hated Dick Grayson for the longest time, might've been jealous or frustrated or annoyed with him. He might've once tried to kill Dick, though never seriously.

But the thought of being perceived a threat to younger Dick Grayson, a kid who looked baby faced and so tiny, was beyond Jason. He protected kids. He didn't hurt them, no matter their future history.

Robin seems like he's thinking about what Jason is saying. There's a possibility that Dick, Jason knowing Dick, would go and tell Bruce anyway. The Golden Boy could never resist running off and telling Bruce everything going on with the family, as if it were his goal in life to be the tattle-tale. And naturally, this made Jason sound like a whiner.

"Okay," Robin says, "Who wasn't even here?" And then before Jason could say anything, the boy stepped back and back flipped off the building.

A moment of panic seizes Jason's heart because the kid never damned near looked, and so he rushes forward and leans over the edge to look for the familiar red, yellow, and green. He knows, god does he know, that Dick can always catch himself even when he doesn't look. But that was a Dick Grayson that was 23 and not 8, so Jason still finds himself worrying. There's no sign of the boy. So he sighs a leans back, twisting so his back is against the access door and then sliding down the side.

He catches himself falling asleep only once before he finally dozes off. When he wakes back up in his apartment, he thinks that maybe it really had been a dream.

Jason wakes up again on some rooftop in West Gotham sometime after 2 am. He picks himself up off the roof and tries to comm. the rest of the squad (him, Dickface, and Replacement) before he hears a cape landing behind him. "Tim, I swear to—."

"Not Tim," the familiar voice says, "But if I were him, I'd avoid you."

Jason turns around to see the little Robin from before, in his imaginary dream where Dick was still Robin and he'd time traveled. Maybe not a dream. Dick didn't look any different than before, even shrouded in darkness. The Robin costume seemed a little more muted, but the colors still popped in the eerie Gotham grey.

Jason crosses his arms and frowns behind his helmet. "How do you keep finding me, kid?"

Dick sticks his tongue out at him and then scowls. It's not a fitting look on the young boys face. "You? What about me? You keep showing up wherever I am!"

Jason pauses and looks around. They're on a low Gotham building surrounded by a couple of high rises. Downtown, western Gotham. By the Financial district— if Dick was here, that probably meant they were on a case. But the kid was right, Jason kept appearing wherever Robin was going to be, in a place where the young hero would see him and Batman wouldn't. To Dick's perspective, it looked like Jason was tracking him.

So it's a fair accusation, if you didn't include all the facts.

"Okay," Jason replies, "Maybe I'm a big fan. You know, I really like Batman and Robin. The Dynamic Duo. The Dark Knight and his Squire."

Dick scrunches up his nose at that and scowls. "We're partners," he half snaps, "I'm not his Squire. I'm not a sidekick."

Jason kind of bristles at that because he'd always assumed otherwise when he'd been a kid— but Dick at 8 or whatever years old is getting offended. Enough that he looks ready to bail. Jason shakes his head and takes a few steps back; he needs to be in the shadows. And he can't have Dick perceiving him as a threat. Clearly, whatever this is, it wasn't a dream. It was real, and Jason needed to minimize his appearance and look in this time. He couldn't have Dick suddenly recognizing the Red Hood some ten or so years down the line and going to say hi.

"Okay, okay, not a sidekick. That's fair, kiddo," Jason replies.

"That's right," Dick sniffs, crossing his arms. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Jason blinks underneath the mask. He doesn't actually know why he's woken up in the past. "Good question, kiddo. It's a mystery. That's your first case, all on your own. Figure out why I'm here."

Dick frowns but turns his body back toward Jason, clearly interested. "I'm not a detective."

"What?" Jason exclaims, his voice a little high and shrill— he's mimicking Damian. "What do you mean? You're a detective, kiddo. You could even be the best detective in the world!"

Dick giggled— honest to fucking god giggled— and then stifled his laugh with his arm. "That's Batman!" he replies, the grin in his voice almost infectious. Jason finds himself grinning beneath his helmet despite himself.

So Jason shrugs and huffs. "I mean, whatever you say. You never know, you could always be the best one day! The partner can, in fact, surpass the partner!"

Dick laughed, and it sounded so carefree. So Jason tries to ignore the person who he always thinks as being so carefree and doesn't compare the two. But the Dick Grayson that Jason knew in 2017, in comparison to this young kid, looked so tired. So Jason shoves that down, away. He doesn't want to acknowledge that and he wants to focus on the young kid in front of him that's grinning like he's just heard the best thing in life. Jason sees a kid in front of him that a living incarnation of that Zip a dee song from Disney.

"Maybe!" the boy laughs, "Maybe I'll be the best detective!" He straightens and salutes Jason. "What's my case, Commish?"

Jason ignores the irony in that and taps his chin through the helmet. "Hmm. Well, Officer Robin. Your first case is to gather information on your mysterious friend. Best to go back to the original scene of the crime."

Robin nods and then looks over his shoulder. "Next time! I'll get my intel!"

He disappears off the roof again and Jason has to tell himself to stop grinning. He turns away and sits down. Last time he fell asleep. So he does that and he wakes up back where he'd last been. No time has passed at all. Dick appears in front of him.

"What's up with you, Hood?" Nightwing asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jason shoves his older brother away but doesn't say anything. He doesn't feel like it. He wonders if Dick remembers his first detective case.

Jason is half awake as the landscape of his kitchen changes to an icy roof. He's barely covered in his t-shirt and shorts as he lands in the snow. As the past solidifies around him, he's already moving to find some clothes. Gotham in the winter is miserable and chilly. It's like the city breathes, letting out cold icy air into the inhabitants. Cold air melts out of the ally's into the streets and floods the roads and the buildings as the snow drops around them. And Jason feels the air sucking the last warmth from his kitchen.

He grips the cold metal and hisses at it stings his hand. It's only been a minute and his throat stings from the air. He's thankful he ended up in an apartment complex because he swings down the stairs and finds a window. It's shut tight but Jason doesn't have a choice so he sucks in his breathe and slams his elbow into the window. It shatters in the impact and Jason squeezes his eyes shut and his elbow stings. He unlatches the window, glass falling around his arm, and climbs in.

The apartment clearly is lived in, and it isn't dirty either. Jason feels bad about it but shifts through their living room to find the bedroom and hopefully some clothes that might fit. He's unlucky enough that it's clearly some young woman. The pink peacoat barely covers his wrists, but she has an oversized sweater from some band that covers his hands. So he sticks that on underneath and the grabs the peacoat overtop, sweatpants underneath it all. He still has no shoes, but at least he isn't shivering.

He leaves the apartment with a small note apologizing about the stealing and eventually finds an apartment with a man in it. The shoes are a little large, but they work for now. And he grabs a beanie and sticks it on his head just in case Robin finds him. Which, given the previous two encounters, is likely.

He climbs to the top of a roof and looks around, trying to spot the winter suit Jason knows Bruce has probably contracted and bribed Dick to wear. But if Dick is moving toward him, Jason doesn't know. He can't tell. It's white and blends in with the dark winter landscape. So he settles behind a heater and feels the warmth on his back and closes his eyes.

Jason has to be here for a reason. He keeps appearing around where Dick is, so he has to be here for the boy. "What the fuck is happening," he mutters half to himself and half to the windy landscape. Gotham is silent as the snow falls, almost peaceful. But Jason notes the city is alive— it's breathing. In and out. Waiting.

Maybe it's bringing Jason to the past. Gotham was weird like that. Strange. A city of mystery. Maybe Dick needs Jason for some reason, maybe Jason needs to see a younger Dick. He wonders if it's some sort of strange lesson for him, but he can't see where.

"Hey!"

Jason quickly pulls the beanie over his head and stills. "Robin?"

"It's me!" the boy exclaims, his voice coming from in front of Jason. "I saw you, don't worry I didn't see your face, so I brought you some hot chocolate. What are you wearing?"

Jason holds his hand out and feels a Styrofoam cup placed delicately to his palm. He wraps it around the warm liquid and pulls it close to his chest, savoring the heat and steam as it warms his face. "It's complicated, kiddo. Thanks for the hot chocolate."

"Sure!" Dick says from somewhere to his left. "You look cold."

"Yeah, well, that's what you get when it's negative bajillion degrees and you're in borrowed clothes," Jason half snaps, but his heart isn't in it.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Jason says quickly. "I didn't mean to snap." He sits up and tries to turn to where he thinks Dick is sitting or crouching or whatever.

Jason clears his throat. "So, Officer Robin, any information to report?"

Dick is quiet for a moment, and then Jason feels someone sitting next to him. He shuffles over a little because there's enough space for the two of them, and then Dick is sitting with his legs curled up next to Jason. It feels a little surreal. Quiet permeates around them.

"You're… not a villain," he finally says, "You say you're a hero, but you use guns. You appear sometimes, weeks in between, and only near me. You don't have a name, well, you do but I don't know it. You have to be early twenties, because you still sound really young. You're nice to me and you remind me—." Dick stops talking and Jason feels him turning away a little.

"You're right," Jason says, shrugging Dick a little to take his mind off of whatever he'd been about to say. "I'm not a villain. And I'm… a hero, kinda. I'm a little in between. I use guns because I like them, and they work for me."

"You're honest," Dick interrupts.

Jason stills a little at that. "Only sometimes." He can't say he's used these guns to kill people, that some people think he's a little unhinged and that he's legally dead. He can't say that he's Dick younger brother from the future, and that he knows who he is and that Jason had, at one point, hated him. He can't do that. "I'm honest like you're honest— you can only tell me some things. But I know you're an honest person. I can only tell you some things too."

Dick kind of shifts a little where he's sitting. Jason thinks that the boy has his own hot chocolate and he hears quiet slurping. "You're an honest person, I can tell. People say kids can't tell those things, but I can tell. Kids can. You aren't mean and you are telling me stuff about you and I know you would tell me more if you could."

"I don't let you see my face," Jason says, as if he's trying to convince Dick that he's not a good person.

"You can't see my eyes. You don't know my name."

"You go by Robin."

"It was a nickname—," and then Dick's mouth shuts with an audible snap. He picks himself up and he's not leaning against Jason anymore. The cold feels worse than it did before. Jason perks up a little because he didn't know that but he knows he can't ask. Maybe he'll ask Dick when he gets back.

"Robin?"

"I shouldn't have said that," Dick whispers. He's further away now, still to Jason's left.

Jason picks himself up from the heater and sets down his hot chocolate. He stands up and turns toward the boy, hands up and open. "Hey, hey. It's okay. You know I'm a friend."

Dick is quiet. "Batman… wouldn't approve."

"Stick it to the man, kiddo," Jason says with a wave of his hand. "But… if it really makes you feel better, you can tell him."

Dick doesn't reply for a long time. It's so quiet in Gotham in the winter. Jason feels almost calm if it wasn't for the fact that the boy in front of him was worried. So now Jason was worried.

"I won't tell," Dick says. "It's… I won't say anything."

"Okay," Jason breathes. "Okay. That's fine. If it makes you feel better, my mom used to call Jay-jay." A nickname that Bruce had stopped using too, after Jason met the Joker the first time.

"My mom call—s me Robin," Dick replied. He stutters over the present tense, and Jason suddenly realizes he's dealing with a kid whose parents had died just a little over a year ago. He's barely been Robin for very long. The memories must still be fresh, he must still catch himself thinking about them as if they are still alive. Jason doesn't know if that's the case or if Dick is trying to protect his identity by letting Jason know he, supposedly had parents.

"So," Jason sighs. "That's one thing we know about each other."

"Yeah," Dick says softly.

Jason nods as if to make himself feel better. "You should get going, kiddo. Batman will be looking for you."

He hears the crunching of the snow and someone climbing onto the ledge. "You're an honest person, Jay. I trust you."

Jason doesn't know if Dick hears him or not. "I trust you too kid." And after five minutes have passed and he's still standing on the top of that barren roof in the grey landscape, he says, "I always will."

It's hard falling asleep that night, but the next time he wake sup he finds himself in the kitchen. He has to scrub spaghetti off the ground, and he silently curses Gotham for its stupidity. The next time he sees Dick, he has half a mind to ask him about the Robin name. But he keeps his mouth shut and doesn't say anything.

To be continued…

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