Author's Note: Many of you have requested that I do more with all four boys, and I thought it was high time I delivered what you've been asking for. In this story we'll join Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian as they have a poolside chat about immortality, a topic that each of them is sure to have a strong opinion about. Chapter 2 will post later this month.

The inspiration for this story came as I was doing the final edit on my original short story of the month, 'Progress'. 'Progress' follows Reggie Baumgartner, a man who's lived for nearly a millennia, as he prepares for his next head transplant. A chance meeting with a fellow transplantee is about to alter everything Reggie thinks about science, ethics, and the very society in which he has thrived for so long. If you're a fan of sci-fi I hope you'll check out 'Progress' on my website, jleehazlett dot com.

As always, happy reading!

It was the kind of afternoon that only a vampire could hate. The sky was that impossible blue that comes only after a cleansing rain. There were clouds, but they were of the billowy, non-threatening variety. They skirted the sun, avoiding its face and letting it shine unhindered on the earth below. The resulting heat might have been too much were it not for the gentle breeze that had been blowing since dawn.

Three figures were out behind Wayne Manor enjoying the idyllic weather. A casual observer might have been forgiven for thinking they were relaxing. The pair in the pool were taking it in turns to perform fancy dives, with the elder of the two coaching his less talented brother. The third figure was stretched out on the broad patio nearby, his attention riveted to the book in his hands. On a table just inside the narrow shadow of the mansion stood a sweating pitcher of iced tea and four glasses. Behind the drinks sat a tray stacked high with thick sandwiches. None of the trio would have to go far to find whatever sustenance he desired.

But this was not the lazy summer day it appeared to be. The book Tim's nose was buried in was a rough draft of the manual for a programming language that he was still developing. Once or twice per page he frowned, shook his head, and made a note with a red pen. He only looked up when Damian let out an aggravated roar from the water. This was a frequent occurrence, as he was working on agility and not having much luck.

Under normal circumstances Tim would have either protested the noise or gone inside to continue his editing. He understood the particular frustration the teenager was dealing with, though, having struggled with it himself in the past, and was more willing than usual to give him a pass. Besides, the sun felt good on his shoulders and he was comfortable in his deck chair. Unless he started getting splashed he wasn't going anywhere.

Tim set his manuscript aside as he reached the end of an especially problematic section. Stretching his arms over his head, he watched the action in the pool. Damian stood at the end of the diving board, directing a baleful glare at the water below him. "You can do it, Dami," Dick called up to him. "Just remember to start tucking before you hit the apex."

Damian grimaced, and Tim would have sworn he saw him roll his eyes. The teen clearly wanted to give voice to the annoyance on his face, but he went straight into his jump instead. He tucked right when he should have, but it still wasn't enough to get the full four revolutions he'd been chasing for over an hour. Tim winced as Damian hit the water halfway through the last roll. He'd been so close…

"I see Dick's breaking another kid's heart with that damn quadruple of his," a new voice spoke over Tim's shoulder. "Sucks."

Jason had emerged from the house and now stood nearby with his arms crossed. Tim didn't have to ask what his remark meant, as Dick had told him long ago that Jason never mastered the special tumble that the first Robin had trademarked. At the time Tim had been beating himself up for not being able to manage the feat himself. Now, seeing the upset on Damian's face and remembering how miserable he'd felt when he had been the one struggling, Tim felt an odd urge to stand up for the boy. "Just because you never got it doesn't mean Damian won't."

"Says the guy who never got it, either."

A tiny smile slipped across Tim's lips. "I've done a quadruple before, actually." It had only happened once, and he'd been so focused on the fight he'd been in at the time that he hadn't realized what he'd done until Dick had given him ecstatic congratulations, but it still counted in his book. Besides, Jason didn't know any of those mitigating details. "So, you know…it's not impossible to learn."

Jason's eyes narrowed. "You implying something, replacement? That you're better than me, maybe?"

Tim realized immediately that he'd gone too far. "Bruce told you not to call me that," he said in an attempt to steer out of dangerous waters.

"Yeah, well, I doubt he can hear us from his precious board meeting. Alfred's at the store, so he's not here to get on me for it either. That being the case, my question stands."

There were several aspects of this conversation that Tim wanted to object to. At the top of the list was the bullying tone in Jason's voice. Right below that was the way the older man was – as he always did when Tim was involved – jumping to conclusions about the intent of his comments. But Tim bit back all of the things he wanted to say. The general truce that had convinced Jason to return to the house a few months before was still fragile. If Jason split off from the family again it would all but kill Bruce, Dick, and Alfred, who had been working so hard to keep the peace. Tim refused to be responsible for causing them that kind of pain. "…No. I wasn't implying anything."

"Good thing. If you had been-"

"Hey, Jay," Dick cut him off. He'd exited the pool while they'd been talking, and now he stopped where he could intervene should one decide to leap upon the other. "Glad you decided to come out and get some sun. You should join me and Dami over by the pool. Have a drink with us; we're taking a breather."

"I was just saying how you were breaking another kid's heart with that impossible quadruple." There was a hint of challenge in his tone, as if he wanted Dick to verify what Tim had said about the flip. Tim held his breath, but Dick didn't rise to the bait. After a moment Jason seemed to give in. "…But if you're on a break then I might stick my feet in the water for a bit."

"Great. See you over there." When Jason was out of earshot, Dick lowered his voice and turned to Tim. "Everything okay, Timmy?"

"Sure," Tim shrugged. "He's just…you know…an asshole. "

Dick sighed. "I'm sorry. I know the last few months haven't been very pleasant for you."

"Yeah, well…he hates my guts. It is what it is." As used to that as Tim was by now, though, it still kind of hurt. When Jason had moved back to the Manor Tim had been willing to leave the past in the past and try to be, if not friends, at least on civil terms. Jason apparently hadn't had the same idea, which made it difficult for Tim to navigate life with him under the same roof.

"I don't think he really hates you. He's just still confused and jealous. Give it time."

"You'd think the literal years that have passed since he found out about me being Robin would have been enough time."

"It's gotten better, though! I mean, he's not physically attacking you anymore. That's an improvement." When Tim blinked up at him in disbelief, Dick forged ahead. "Look, come sit by the pool and have a drink, okay? Things are bound to improve as he spends more time with you. Sooner or later he'll see how awesome the rest of us already know you are. Every little bit of positive interaction you two have has to help him reach that conclusion. Right?"

"That's an absurd level of optimism even for you, Dick."

"It isn't. I believe in Jason, and I believe in you. Therefore, I believe it's possible for you two to get along. Besides, this is one of the first opportunities the four of us have had to sit down and talk without any chance of interruption by Bruce or Alfred. Not that I don't want them around," Dick said quickly, "but it's different. It's bro-bonding."

"And if 'bro-bonding' doesn't work, he and Damian can tag team drowning me. Maybe that will make for an improvement in their relationship, if nothing else." Tim swung his feet to the hot deck despite his words. He didn't really think an attempt would be made on his life, but he wasn't going to pretend that he was looking forward to a forced chat with someone who was rarely anything but rude to him.

"There's that positive attitude," Dick beamed. "Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it."

"I know you do," Tim muttered as Dick turned away to fetch the iced tea from its shaded table. "That's why I'm willing to put up with all of this." Then, squaring his shoulders and preparing himself to put up with more snark, he headed for the water.

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