Archive of Our Own

“How did you know I was staying here,” Jason says flatly when he opens the door. Bat safehouse #7 is tucked deep in Crime Alley, which is squarely Jason’s territory at this point. Jason had been reluctant to use a safe house that Bruce owned at first, but he had never seen another member of the family even close to this block.

“We have our sources,” Dick says, leaning against the doorframe. “You gonna let us in or not?”

“Why should I?” Jason asks, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t have a weapon on him, and his siblings are dressed in civilian clothes, too. He doesn’t want to bring unwanted attention to the apartment where he basically lives. God knows Gothamites are nosy little shits even when they pretend not to be. Jason comes in and out through the window for a reason.

“We brought takeout!” Stephanie says, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head with one hand and doing a poor imitation of jazz hands with the other. “And your favorite.”

Damian’s head pops out from behind Dick’s back, and he gazes up at Jason coolly. “Hello, Todd,” he says conversationally. “They forced me to tell you where you were under threat of betrayal. Please let them in.”

“How did you know I was staying here?” Jason says, narrowing his eyes. Damian may be his favorite among his siblings, but the bar is in hell. It’s not like the other options are fighting for the spot.

Damian scoffs. “Please. A bull in a china shop leaves less traces than you.”

“The last person who saw me crawl through the window almost got a rubber bullet to the ass,” Jason says. “I’d hate for you to end up in a similar situation.” He wouldn’t actually shoot Damian– he’s over the whole ‘hurting your siblings’ phase of his life, he thinks– but they don’t need to know that. 

“It’s a secret,” Damian admits. “There are many secrets around here these days.” He glances at Stephanie out of the corner of his eye. “We should respect them.”

Steph smiles. “Alfred would hate knowing there’s currently a batch of snake eggs incubating under his bed right now.”

Damian scowls. “I couldn’t just leave them outside, the meteorologists predicted hail on Monday– when did you get cats?”

Three heads peer past Jason into his apartment curiously.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jason says, stepping to the side. “Just come in.”

⟡

They get situated like they live there. Takeout– Chinese food from the place around the corner that Jason eats at least three times a week– gets spread across the coffee table, and he digs in. If Bruce is paying for it, and Bruce definitely paid for this if Damian is here, he’ll eat it.

Damian has his sway with animals, and Lucey Manette and Sydney Carton prance right over to him. He even deigns to sit on the carpet and let them climb right into his lap, and Dick isn’t subtle at all about sneaking a few pictures on his phone.

“The cats?” Dick questions as he shoves three quarters of an eggroll in his mouth.

“Rat catchers from a drug warehouse I busted up,” Jason says, looking down at the cats. “That’s Sydney Carton.” Sydney Carton, a scraggly brown tabby cat, is on his belly, letting Damian pet him. “And that’s Lucey Manette.” Lucey Manette, a long-haired siamese-colored Persian, is watching Sydney Carton get attention with an unamused expression. “I got them out before I blew it up. They were just babies back then, but I’ve had them for a few months now.”

“And you named them after… A Tale of Two Cities characters,” Steph says, clearly unamused.

“Yes,” Jason says defensively. “Look at them. What else would I name them?”

“Something fitting,” Damian supplies. “Knife and Sword.”

“Meth and Crack?” Steph suggests.

“Something not so nerdy,” Dick says, his brows furrowed. “Did you just say you blew up a warehouse?”

Jason shrugs and takes a sip of his cold rootbeer. “Better than a thousand pounds of laced cocaine ending up on the streets of Gotham. Next time I’ll let it sit and you guys can track it through the club scene while it kills people.”

Dick’s eye twitches. “No, no. You… keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

They eat in relative silence. Dick looks around the place, his eyes sharp as they roam over the TV and a bookshelf that Jason’s filled with used copies he got from the sale bin at one of the bookstores in the Alley. Stephanie is on her phone, texting rapidly even as her chopsticks fly.

Damian obviously refuses to eat what he calls an abomination to Chinese cuisine and– you know what, Jason can’t really blame him for that one. He plays with the cats while they eat, at one point laying his whole body down across the floor, not even commenting on Jason’s threadbare carpet, and the cats are instantly on top of him. Dick watches in amusement and sneaks another few pictures, and if Jason sneaks one too that’s no one’s business.

“So,” Stephanie says eventually.

Jason’s mood instantly sours. He knew his siblings didn’t come here just to have lunch with him. There’s always a so.

“Tim’s birthday is coming up,” Dick says conversationally.

“I know,” Jason says gruffly, because he does. Jason had seen it marked on the calendar in Bruce’s office last year, circled in red with a little birthday cake drawn next to it. He had flipped to August to see his own; no drawing next to his, just his and Alfred’s names in plain handwriting. That had made him unreasonably mad.

“So, are you gonna come to his birthday party?” Steph says. Her eyes are shining; she definitely learned how to rock the baby blues from Dick, Jason thinks with a scowl, because she gets better at using her puppy dog eyes every time he sees her.

“Why would I go to Tim’s birthday party?” Jason asks, rolling his eyes. “He didn’t come to mine last year.”

“He was in the hospital because you tried to kill him,” Damian says, staring at Jason pointedly.

“Oh, yeah.” Jason shrugs and sits back against the couch. Guess he can’t hold it against Tim for skipping his birthday party. Not that there was a party to begin with. He doesn’t even really know how old he should be. 25, if he goes by year. He doesn’t exactly feel 25.

“It’s at a karaoke bar,” Dick says. “Jay, he’s turning 21! That’s, like, the most important birthday ever. Some of Tim’s friends are gonna be there, too. You can’t miss it!”

“Even more of a reason for me to not go,” Jason says emphatically. He hates being around drunk people, and he hates Tim’s dumbass obnoxious friends; he can only imagine what those dumbass obnoxious friends are like when they’re drunk.

“C’mon, Jay,” Dick says, flopping onto the couch dramatically. His head and arm land half on Jason’s thigh. “You used to beg me to take you to the karaoke place on Gate Street when you were younger.”

“Sure, I love karaoke,” Jason says easily, pushing Dick off his lap. Dick ends up halfway on the floor, his back curving dangerously. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to cram into a room with you freaks for four hours just to celebrate the birthday of someone I’ve tried to kill, like, three times.”

“Tim has totally forgiven you,” Steph says, looking up from her phone. “Please? It’ll be soooo fun.”

“Kori will be there,” Dick adds, as if seeing Dick’s girlfriend is an incentive to make Jason hang around people who give him migraines.

“I don’t care if Tim has forgiven me,” Jason snaps. “Besides, I’m busy that night. You know, crime and stuff.”

“Actually, Bruce said he would give us all the night off and patrol by himself,” Steph says. “Why don’t you take a break from cracking skulls together and go out with us, just this one night?” 

“Okay, well, I don’t work for Bruce so he can’t give me the night off in the first place,” Jason says indignantly. “Second, I don’t ‘crack skulls together.’ I use Berettas, they’re way more efficient, and–”

“Todd,” Damian says suddenly, looking up from Lucey Manette, who claws at his hand and tugs it back down to pet her. He closes his eyes and gulps a little, before he levels on Jason with a dead glare. “If you go, I will allow you to pick one duet for us to sing and dance together.”

Jason hesitates. Now this is a tempting offer. “I get to pick it?”

Damian scowls. “Yes. Nothing too embarrassing, though, or–”

“No, no,” Jason interrupts. “If I come, I reserve the right to pick the most embarrassing song possible, and you have to do it or I leave immediately. And… if you chicken out night of I’m telling Bruce you did something terrible and getting your Batmobile privileges revoked for a month.”

Damian’s eyes widen. “You can’t do that!”

Dick cocks his head. “I don’t know, dude. B is pretty desperate to get back in Jason’s good graces. If Jason fake cried and told him you were mean he’d probably fold like paper.” Dick doesn’t mention that Jason would never fake cry to Bruce of all people.

Damian groans. “Fine. But you have to come. If I prepare and then you don’t show up I will…” he hesitates for a bit, obviously trying to think of a way to get back at Jason that’s equivalent to getting Bruce to take his learner’s permit away. “I don't know, I’ll think of something.”

“Seriously, dude.” Dick shoves at his shoulder. “You can’t flake.”

Steph nods. “It’ll be so fun! I promise!”

Jason sighs. “Fine. But if some important case thing comes up I can’t promise anything.”

⟡⟡⟡

Jason finds an appropriately embarrassing song for him and Damian to sing a duet to.

He has no general sense of shame and an even greater need to embarrass his little brother, so he invites Damian over to watch the movie it’s from and then sends him a link to learn the dance.

“I am not doing this,” Damian spits as soon as the number ends on screen.

“Oh, but you are,” Jason says, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. “It’d be a real shame if I took a hammer to the batmobile’s headlights and told Bruce it was you because you got mad he was cheating on your mom again.”

“They are not even together!” Damian says, his mouth twisting in anger. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine,” Jason says. “You got mad because Bruce wouldn’t let you go on Jon’s school field trip with him and now you’ve given in to your anger and will be punished.” He tuts mockingly. “Too much like those older brothers of yours, Dami.”

Damian rolls his eyes. “You are ridiculous. And so lucky Brown happened to be in the foyer bathroom when I climbed in with the snakes.”

Jason rolls his eyes back. “Next time go in through the reserve pantry. Bruce literally never goes in there and Alfred goes in there once a month unless he actively needs something.”

Damian sneers like he wants to say something mean, probably like how the only things Jason snuck into the manor when he was Robin were books above his reading level, but a new song begins on the screen and he rapidly deflates.

⟡

Damian comes over three more times to practice. Jason vaguely wonders how he explains leaving the house after school and before patrol for hours at a time and coming back with absolutely no energy to Bruce (and more importantly Alfred), but he decides it’s funnier to imagine him lying to Bruce about joining a jazzercise class or something instead of this.

This being Damian practicing the dance over and over in the safehouse’s empty bedroom while Jason whacks at his feet with a cane like some crazed Russian ballet instructor.

“Dude, it's a simple box step,” Jason snaps. “I don’t know how you keep messing it up. Didn’t you ever dance when you were a little kid?”

“I was too busy learning how to kill people,” Damian snarls, crossing his arms and stepping out of reach of Jason’s cane.

Jason lowers the cane. He’s not exactly going to tap at the kid’s ankles after that. It seems like something Ra’s would do to improve Damian’s footwork, except Ra’s would have used an actual scythe and not a knockoff glittered plastic version of the Riddler’s cane that Jason bought for $3.99 at a Gotham Gimmicks store.

“I don’t even know why you agreed to do this,” Jason says, tapping the cane against the floor. A small cloud of glitter falls from it.

Damian’s face wrinkles up in disgust, an expression Jason knows well. “Unfortunately, Drake is a good brother. Ugh, I hate even saying it.” He sighs and sits down, waiting for Jason to join him on the floor before he speaks again. “He is a good gift-giver. He had a promethium katana made for me last year for my birthday.”

“Shit.” Jason says. A custom unbreakable sword is a good gift. “Do I have to bring a present? I… I haven’t really been to that many birthday parties, actually.”

Damian shrugs. “I doubt anyone expects you to. I’m not even expected to because I’m younger.” His nose wrinkles a little. “American customs are weird.”

Jason huffs. “Dick used to throw a fit if I didn’t get him something for his birthday.”

“Well, Richard is what they call a ‘drama queen,’ so…” Damian trails off, not smiling, but at least he’s not actively curled up and frowning.

Jason basks in the quiet, before he throws the cane to the side. “No more cane,” he decides. “Just practice until we get it.”

“I really have to do choreography?” Damian asks, pouting. “Why can’t we just sing? That’s embarrassing enough.”

The face is all Talia Al-Ghul, Jason thinks, but the pout is all Bruce Wayne. It would be annoying if it didn’t evoke a weird sort of cuteness aggression in him.

“Me coming even though I don’t want to,” Jason reminds him. “And a custom promethium katana.”

“Fuck,” Damian says, shoulders falling. “Fine. Run it again.”

⟡⟡⟡

It’s just Jason’s luck that he’s unhooking his motorcycle helmet just as Tim and his… gang pull up to the door of the karaoke place.

It’s not really a gang, and if it is, it’s the most pathetic gang Jason’s ever seen. When they step into the light, Jason can see that it’s not actually his team. It’s just Tim, Steph, Cass, and Kon.

Jason groans internally. His siblings are one thing, and Steph likes him well enough, but he’s pretty sure Kon hates his guts. He supposes that knowing your best friend almost got sliced apart at your superhero base while you were in space can do that to someone, but if Tim is supposedly over it, then Jason thinks Kon can shove it for one night. It was years ago, after all. Well, not the most recent time, but– Jason still thinks Kon can shove it.

“Jason!” Cass calls, gesturing him over.

He shoves his keys into his pocket and jogs over, where Steph punches his arm and Cass immediately latches onto him. “Heya, Cass,” he says, patting her hair.

“Thanks for coming,” Tim says, smiling and rubbing at the back of his head. So he’s still nervous after all, Jason thinks. He’s sure Kon’s hand on his shoulder isn’t helping. “Wasn’t sure you were gonna make it with patrol and all.”

Jason shrugs. “Damian gave me an offer I couldn’t pass up.”

Steph grins. “Have you picked a song?”

Jason nods. “He practiced it and everything. Timmy here is getting the birthday performance of a lifetime.”

Cass looks up at him. “You’re gonna sing?” she asks.

Jason sighs. “Yeah, I’ll sing, I guess.”

She smiles. “You’re a good singer.”

Steph opens the door for them all. “It makes no sense how he got to be the best singer out of all of us. It feels like it should be Dick, right?”

Jason frowns. “No way!”

Tim laughs. “Dick sounds awful when he’s in the shower. I don’t know how Kori puts up with it, ugh.”

Kon snickers. “You’re not much better, babe.”

Jason looks at Steph over Tim’s head. Babe? 

Kill yourself, she mouths back. 

Wow. Jason finds out his brother likes boys– no one ever tells him anything in this family– and is dating his stupid, annoying best friend and Jason can’t even ask an innocent question?

Jason shoots Steph the middle finger and she immediately shoots him back a finger heart made with both her middle fingers. Fuck, she’s too good.

They enter the lobby all together and wait at the unattended front desk. Jason has never been to this karaoke place– he had only ever been to the one on Gate Street that Dick had mentioned before, when Dick himself had taken him a few times after he’d been adopted. He hadn’t gone to karaoke at all since he had died.

Cass taps Jason’s arm. He turns to look at her, and she gestures to her tote bag. When he looks inside, he sees a produce bag full of tomatoes.

He snorts. “As long as you don’t throw ‘em at me,” he whispers, draping an arm around her shoulder.

She grins. “Alfred gave me all the soft ones. But you’re a good singer.” Her voice drops a few volume levels. “These are for Dick and Tim.”

“Careful,” Jason stage-whispers, his eyes flitting between Tim, Stephanie, and Kon, who are engrossed in conversation a few feet away. “I think Superboyfriend over there might end up killing us both if anything flies at Tim from my general direction.”

Kon doesn’t turn to face him, but his eyes narrow and he steps closer to Tim. Right, so he’s definitely using his weird Superman clone abilities to spy on Jason tonight. Great.

Cass pats his shoulder. “I will protect you.”

“Jason!” Dick comes up from behind them. He’s returning seemingly from deeper within the building. “Hey, everyone!” He crushes Tim into a hug, his octopus arms wrapping around him tightly and squeezing Stephanie’s arm as well. “Come on, we’re just down the hall. I already paid.”

“Nice,” Tim says. “Is there anyone even working here?”

“Uh, some lady took us back to the room,” Dick says. “A lot of the rooms have people in them already, but they seem pretty soundproof. She must be taking someone’s order or something.”

The walk to the room is fast, and soon Dick is letting them into a room that’s dim, with flashing red and yellow lights. A giant screen takes up one of the walls, with the other side of the room filled with a long couch and chairs and a low table.

“Look who’s here!” Dick says as he pushes everyone into the room.

“Timothy!” Kori says, rising from her seat to hug Tim. “Happy birthday!”

“Ah, thanks.” Tim says, shaking out his hair a little. “You remember Kon.”

She nods. “Of course. It is nice to see you again, Kon-el.”

He smiles at her. “Kori, right?”

“Yes,” she says, smiling. “Dick can show you how to order something to eat on your phone. Richard?”

Jason slumps down into the space between Cass and Damian and sighs. “Hey, Kori,” he says. For all he beefs with Dick sometimes, Koriand’r has always been nice to him. He enjoys watching her knock him around sometimes.

“Hello, Jason,” she says pleasantly, her lips curling into a smile. “It is nice to see you. Did you want something to eat?”

“I ate at my place,” Jason says. “Didn’t know they had food here.”

“Ah,” she says, before reaching out and ruffling his hair. “It is nice to see you again,” she says again, her smile fond. 

He smiles, genuinely. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

Damian nudges him. “Order something to drink.”

Jason scans the QR code on his civilian phone and orders a beer and a bowl of edamame. He flips to the non-alcoholic drink section and glances briefly through the selection. “Mango juice or pomegranate?”

“Pomegranate, obviously,” Damian says, scowling a little. “If you favored me at all like you claim you would also let me get a beer.”

“Not a chance,” Jason says, adding the juice to his order and placing it.

Steph is already on stage queuing up a song. Pretty soon the first notes of “Cherry Bomb” by the Runaways start bouncing around the room, and Steph starts screaming along with the lyrics into the microphone. 

Jason watches as Kon laughs and shrugs when Tim cringes a little, before pulling the menu over to them and scanning it.

An attendant brings their drinks after a few minutes, while Dick is up treating their ears to a Good Charlotte song. She’s got a great poker face, Jason will give her that.

“Just a sip,” Damian says, not looking at Jason.

“Fine,” Jason says. He slides his beer over to Damian.

Kori looks between them. “Is he allowed to drink that? There is a drinking age in Gotham, yes?”

Jason shrugs. “It’s just beer, and– Christ, Damian, that doesn’t mean chug it, you little gremlin.” He snatches his beer back from Damian, who grins and sticks his tongue out.

“Can you buy me a drink, Jay?” Stephanie says, stopping in the middle of chatting and jutting out her lip in a pout. “I still have a month to go.”

“You guys know I’m a cop on paper, right?” Dick says, eyebrows furrowing.

Jason rolls his eyes. “You used to hand me martinis off the trays at galas when I was 15. Stop acting like you’re elderly.”

Dick huffs. “Yeah, then you can tell B you let his baby get drunk.”

“I’m not a baby!” Damian says.

“Yes, you are,” Jason says, patting his head. “Now drink your juice.”

Dick checks his watch. “Duke should be here any minute. Babs said she was gonna be half an hour late.”

When Steph’s song ends, she gestures for Cass to join her on stage. Some Mitski song starts playing, and Cass begins to sing as Steph takes her seat down the booth from Jason.

Jason listens thoughtfully. Cass isn’t bad– the song is slow and not really meant for karaoke, but it suits her. He hasn’t heard it before, but it’s nice.

When she’s done, Kon claps, and Steph cheers. Jason pats her back and she sits back down. She nudges her bag. “Kori is next, then Dick,” she says.

Koriand’r goes with a classic. “I Want to Dance with Somebody” can never go wrong at karaoke, especially since most of the room joins in as Kori gracefully twirls across the little room. 

By the end, the room is way louder than it had been before, and everyone is smiling. More drinks have been brought in, and Kori makes her way over to Tim. “Birthday boy’s turn!” she says.

“Oh,” Tim says, glancing at Dick, who gives him a huge thumbs up. He’s halfway into a large, suspiciously bright blue drink, but he stands and takes the microphone.

Jason expects Tim to have shit music taste, expects him to pull out One Direction or Blackpink or something, but he’s pleasantly surprised when he chooses an All-American Rejects song. Probably went through his and Dick’s music to find stuff to listen to after he moved into the manor after becoming Robin. Bastard.

Kon and Steph act like they’ve never seen someone do better at karaoke. Jason rolls his eyes.

When Tim is done, he passes the microphone to Dick and sits down again, pulling his drink and food back over to him quickly.

Dick launches into some upbeat ballad about loving a space girl, pointing at Kori, whose dark orange blush can be seen even in the darkness of the room. Her hands are clutched together over her heart, and her smile doesn’t waver even as Dick’s voice cracks on a high note.

“This is both physically and emotionally revolting,” Tim says, throwing a chicken popper into his mouth with barely concealed disgust.

“They are worse than Father and Superman,” Damian agrees, his lips curling. He takes a sip of his pomegranate juice as he shakes his head.

Kon’s head whips towards Damian so fast that Jason is worried the kid's neck might break. “My– Clark?”

Tim looks at him. “Kon.” He pats Kon’s shoulder sympathetically. “You haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?” Kon asks, distraught.

Jason snorts. “They act like those gay penguins that always pass rocks back and forth between one another as courting gifts. Oh, Batman, I couldn’t possibly let you be responsible for city cleanup this time. Oh, Superman, Alfred made extra cookies. You should have some. Thank you, Batman! I’ll have my ma make some for you and the kids.”

Damian makes a fake gagging noise, and Steph nods sympathetically. “Disgusting.”

Kon eyes Damian, his brows furrowing. “You homophobic or something?”

Damian stares at Kon for a few long seconds, before pointing to himself. “Me?”

“Who else?” Kon says, raising an eyebrow.

Jason laughs so hard he nearly gags.

Damian grunts. “I’m certainly not homophobic. I just think that my father and Superman flirting is gross because they are, well… old. They should not be doing that in front of children.”

Tim grins at him. “I thought you weren’t a child, Dami.”

Damian scowls. “I am when it involves my father making goo-goo eyes at the stupidest meta on the planet.”

Jason hums. “Don’t you and–”

Damian turns and shoves his entire fist into Jason’s mouth, effectively silencing him.

Jason’s glad he’s gotten so good at lip reading because of his hearing being muffled by his mask, because Damian doesn’t even attempt to use his voice. If you breathe another word in front of the clone I will literally kill you, he mouths.

“Do you want another sip of my beer?” Jason asks. His voice is muffled by Damian’s entire hand in his mouth, but Damian is small and Jason is large, so he still has enough room to make himself heard. 

Damian extracts his hand from Jason’s mouth and wipes it off on the napkin in front of him. “Yes,” he says, then snatches the beer from in front of Jason before he can pass it to him.

Duke nudges into the booth next to Jason, giving him a look. Jason shrugs. “What’s his issue?” Duke asks. “I mean, besides, like, the usual?”

Jason snorts. “I don’t even know, man.” Stephanie queues up Barbara’s song, and Jason looks over at Duke. “What are you gonna do?”

Duke shrugs. “Not sure. Probably Green Day or something. Never been a karaoke music kinda guy.”

“They’ve got a bunch of oldies here, too,” Barbara says, wheeling herself up to the front of the room. Jason hadn’t even realized she’d arrived. “Helena enjoys this place quite a bit.” Her nose wrinkles. “I’m not too fond of all the Sinatra, but it’s nice to come with Dinah.”

She starts singing “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” and Dick starts going crazy with the cheering. The other girls join in, and soon there’s a whole chorus going.

“Damian,” Tim says, sipping his drink with a smirk on his face. “I hear you’ve prepared quite a show for us tonight.”

Damian scowls harder than Jason has ever seen. “Todd has to sing a solo song first,” he says, his arms crossed tightly. “Then I’ll do it.” His eyes slide over to Cass. “And I need another drink.”

“Aww, more apple juice to keep you awake past your bedtime?” Dick says, ruffling Damian’s hair. Kon giggles into his hand.

Damian looks like he’s about two seconds away from biting Dick’s nose off his face. “If you do not get your hands off me in the next five seconds I’m going to make you wish Father never adopted you.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “I’ve beaten you before and I can beat you again.”

Barbara slides the rest of her beer over to Damian as she resumes her position across from Jason. “Only because I know this will be less humiliating for you if you loosen up a little!” 

Damian humphs and grabs the beer. “You’re the only person I respect in this room, Barbara. And you as well, Koriand’r.” Kori smiles and claps her hands together.

Dick sighs, before his eyes land on Jason. “You’re up. C’mon, do Adele. Oooh, no. Celine!”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Celine? As in Celine Dion?”

Dick nods. “Jay will tell you he only likes metal and punk music,” he says, leaning over so that his head is resting against Jason’s bicep. “But he’s such a softie. He used to beg B to play Whitney’s greatest hits in the Batmobile.”

Tim grins. “No way.”

Jason flicks Dick’s head, and the eldest cringes away. “Would you shut the fuck up?” He sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “It’s just– it makes for good karaoke music, okay? Celine makes classics.”

“This is true,” Kon says, nodding. “Some songs are just meant for karaoke, and some aren’t.”

“Oh, my god,” Tim says, leaning against the table. “Don’t get him started.”

“Tim, you sing My Chemical Romance every single time we go to karaoke,” Kon says, making a face.

“Woah,” Jason says, raising his eyebrows. “Wearing a leather jacket with spikes on it as your official superhero costume and hating on Gerard Way is crazy.”

“I never said that,” Kon says quickly, holding up his hands. “I just think it’s funny that Tim judges me for sticking with country music for karaoke when he doesn’t venture at all!”

“Country music at karaoke,” Duke says, his brow furrowing. He grips his can of soda tightly. “What fucking planet are we on?”

“Oh!” Steph says. “You could do Jessie’s Girl! You did that one the last time we went, a few months ago!”

Tim’s head hits the table with a resounding clunk, and Kon’s face turns a violent shade of red. “Um– that was strictly a one time thing.”

Steph stares at them, her eyes narrowing, before they widen dramatically. “Wait!” she practically yells. “You– and he… oh, my God… you are evil.”

“So anyways,” Tim says, gritting his teeth.

“Drake was dating someone else before he started dating the clone,” Damian whispers to Jason. “Jaime and Emiko were discussing it a few months ago.”

“I’m picking up the context clues here and I agree with Steph,” Dick says. “Is that why–”

“It’s my birthday!” Tim says loudly, before he points at Jason. “I want to see their rehearsed song now!”

“Damian,” Jason says, throwing Damian under the bus for daring to gossip. He loves gossip, but not knowing any actual information makes his intel useless. When he becomes a better detective, Jason will defend him. “Warm up with a solo song, and then we’ll do our group number.”

Damian looks a little confused, but he nods. He heads over to the pad to queue up the song.

He clears his throat. “This is called ‘The Moon Represents My Heart’ by Teresa Teng,” he says, his eyebrow twitching. “It’s one of my mother's favorites. I, uh, like it, too.”

Without further ado, he launches into the soft lyrics in perfect Mandarin.

Dick is sitting with his jaw dropped a little. Cass looks misty-eyed, no doubt because she can understand what the lyrics actually mean. Kon also looks sort of caught in the air of sentimentality, albeit with a funny look on his face. Jason realizes suddenly that his brain is probably operating at a much higher capacity than theirs and that he also probably understands the lyrics, if he can understand languages like Superman can.

Jason elbows Steph. “Dude,” he whispers out of the side of his mouth. “What the hell is this song about?”

Steph is frowning a little– not like she’s angry, but a little sad. “It’s a really popular love song. Cass has it on vinyl in her apartment. It’s about missing someone you loved, she said.”

Jason hums a little. No wonder everyone is a little misty-eyed. Everyone in this room can relate to that.

“You should go next,” Steph says. “Do the Celine. It would be so great. And I promise I won’t video it and show it to Alfred.”

“Just for that I’m not going to do it,” Jason says through gritted teeth, voice low so that he won’t disrupt Damian’s stellar performance.

“Sure,” Steph says, smiling sweetly. Her blue eyes gleam in the dim light of the room. “I’m sure he’ll love the video of you and Damian dancing instead.”

“I’ll go after Duke goes,” Jason says, frowning.

She grins, patting his shoulder. “Perfect. Great. Knew I could count on you. I’m partial to any song but the one from Titanic.”

“That’s, like, her worst well-known song,” Jason says, huffing. Fake fan.

Damian finishes up his song and sits back down with no expression, even as everyone claps. 

“Dude,” Kon says, his hand tightening around Tim’s waist. He has tears in his eyes. “What is up with your brothers?”

Jason snorts.

Duke gets up and launches into a Green Day song. Basic but good, as expected. Jason had shared music recs with him before; he was more into indie and punk music than anything they’d have here, but Green Day was mainstream enough for them to be featured.

A mention of a familiar place tears Jason out of his stupor.

“Should we go back to Gate Street after?” Kon asks, as Tim pops out the beans from one of Jason’s edamame. Bastard!

“Hold on, you live on Gate Street?" Jason asks, snorting. “Why would you live there?”

“Oh, like Bethesda is any better,” Tim says, pouting a little.

Jason whips to face Tim. “How the fuck do you know I live there?” Man, what the fuck is up with his stalker ass siblings?

Tim blinks. “Oh. Am I… not supposed to?”

“No,” Jason says through gritted teeth. “It’s bad enough that Damian knew, and then he told Needs-Brown-Contacts-One-and-Two over there,” he adds, gesturing to Dick and Steph. “Now you, too?”

Tim frowns. His eyes fall to the table, and his hands clench against the hard wood. “Oh. Sorry.”

Kon sits down again. “What the fuck? Who do you think pays your utilities?”

Jason pauses. “Uh… Bruce?”

Tim looks up at him. “Well, sure. I’m the one who physically pays them, though. I do it for all the safehouses. I have to run everything through VPNs and proxy servers and stuff. I just noticed the Bethesda safehouse had a much higher bill than usual so I went to check it out and found all your stuff there. I didn’t bother you or anything.”

Jason suddenly feels bad. He had known Bruce was paying for the utilities; hell, he had laughed at the thought of scamming Bruce out of even $40 while taking some of the longest hot showers in existence after a few bad scraps. But he had never even considered that those utilities weren’t on autopay.

“And you… didn’t tell Bruce?” Jason asks warily, drawing back into his seat.

“Why would I tell Bruce?” Tim asks, before shaking his head. “I’m not Robin anymore. I don’t even live with him.”

“Right,” Jason says, folding his arms against his chest. Protectively, he thinks, not defensively. “Right.”

“I’m not trying to, like, rat you out to Bruce, dude,” Tim says, before taking a big sip of his new drink. It’s bright green. Jason fights the urge to flinch.

“If you stalked Tim back you could find 800 banned reportable behaviors,” Kon suggests, smirking.

Tim rolls his eyes. “Bruce doesn’t have banned reportable behaviors, babe. He’s just a hard-ass.”

Jason almost laughs out loud. Tim Drake, actual successor to the Boy Wonder title– something Jason had never lived up to, not really– calling Bruce Wayne a hard-ass? Jason could have sworn that Tim would pull the shit from Bruce’s ass himself if he needed it done.

“Right,” Jason says warily. This evening is really throwing him for a loop. Starting with Tim shitting on Bruce, continuing with Kon telling him to stalk Tim back as a joke.

“Just a hard-ass,” Kon quotes. “Remember how no one on our team was ever allowed at the manor, and now Jon gets to have sleepovers there?”

Damian sniffs, his nose in the air. “Jon is only allowed because Father thinks I do not have enough friends. He is an idiot, obviously, because I also have a team, but I will continue to fool him and make him believe I do not get along with them so that Jon is not banned from the manor.”

Kon snaps his fingers. “Maybe if Tim had been a little more broody and emo at thirteen,” he says, grinning.

Damian scowls. “I’m seventeen. And Jon currently owes me $17,583 from when I taught him how to play poker, so please remind him the next time you see him. He will feel guilty if someone else knows about it, even though I do not actually expect him to pay. I am curious to see what he does instead.”

Jason throws his head back and laughs.

“Tell you what,” he says. “If Superboy over here does not a country song for karaoke, I will consider letting you live even though you know where I live.” He’s obviously kidding.

Tim looks between them, his pupils a little blown, then grins. “Rightttt. Okay, then.”

“Rob!” Kon looks betrayed, his hand flying to his chest.

“You do Celine first, though,” Tim says.

“Tough negotiator,” Jason says, shrugging. He can’t believe he’s not holding a knife to the boy’s throat right now. He doesn’t even have a knife on his person; it’s in his bag at his feet. Progress, his mind says, as if it’s progress to still feel you need a knife for protection in a room full of family. “Fine.”

“Duke,” Tim calls. Duke perks up from where he had just finished his rendition of “American Idiot.” “Jason’s turn.”

Obviously, Jason has to do “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now.” It’s his favorite Celine song, a timeless classic.

When he’s done, everyone sits there quietly.

“What the fuck?” Kon asks.

Steph makes a noise. “I know, right?”

Jason shifts uncomfortably. “Fuck you guys.”

“Dude,” Kon says. “I didn’t know you could, like, sing.”

“I told you!” Tim says, shoving Kon a little. “I told you he was too good for karaoke. It’s embarrassing for the rest of us.”

Jason snorts and hands the microphone to Kon. “Your turn, Jessie’s Girl.”

Kon groans, but he does it. Boy, does he do it, Jason thinks in delight, in all his red-faced glory.

Tim is equally red-faced; whether from alcohol or embarrassment from this unknown incident is yet to be discovered.

“Wow,” Steph says. Her face is pale. “You guys are horrible.”

She next treats them to a Chappell Roan cover. Pot, kettle, Jason thinks.

“Enough,” Tim shouts when Steph ends; his face is red. “I was promised a performance.”

Damian groans, but he pulls himself out of his seated position. “If I see a single phone recording I’m leaking everyone’s identity.”

The music starts, and Steph screams.

“I believe in dreamin’, shootin’ for the stars,” Damian starts, throwing his hands out in time with the lyrics.

Jason slides across the stage. “Baby, to be number one, you’ve got to raise the bar!”

Damian makes his hands into claws, cringing as he does so. “Kickin’ and a scratchin’, grindin’ out my best…”

Jason can’t help but smile at his brother’s face. “Anything it takes to climb the ladder of success.”

They sing the chorus of “Bop to the Top” together, and to Jason’s surprise neither of them forget the choreography. When he looks out at his family, Tim is sitting there with a wondrous look in his eyes, Duke and Steph are hitting each other’s arms frantically, and Dick is sitting there with his hands clasped together like a proud mother. Even Koriand’r looks amused, even though Jason can almost guarantee she’s never seen High School Musical.

Kon is the one videoing it on his phone. That’s a problem for later, Jason tells himself.

“Show some muscle,” Damian shouts, showing off a bicep.

“Do the hustle,” Jason replies, rolling his arms.

When they finish with one final “Bop to the top!” and their ending pose, Jason on one knee with Damian’s leg on top of his, both their arms outstretched, the room erupts into cheers.

“That was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Tim says, voice awed. “I’ll never be able to get Sharpay Damian out of my head.”

“This is the best night of my life,” Stephanie says, nearly in tears. “I don’t think I’ll ever see something so beautiful again in my entire life. Jesus, thank you for letting me be in that bathroom when Damian climbed in with those snakes. I’ll never ask for anything again in my entire life.”

Damian, Jason is surprised to see, is not scowling or glaring at anyone. His face is red in embarrassment, but he looks a little proud of himself.

Success! Jason thinks.

“I think Jason genuinely has a future on the stage,” Dick says. “Broadway is calling your name, Little Wing.”

Jason slides into the booth and puts his arms over his head, his face burning.

“I didn’t get a chance to say hello to you,” Barbara says as Steph gets up to queue another song for herself. “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield. A classic, Jason thinks. Another song he used to force Bruce to listen to in the Batmobile. When did all these Bat adjacents develop good taste in music? “It’s nice to see you, Jason.”

“You, too,” Jason says, sliding his hands over his face.

She reaches out and pats his arm. “Read any good books lately?”

He shrugs. “I finished Paradise Lost not too long ago, and right now I’m in the middle of Jurassic Park. Not a classic, but it’s good. You’d like all the computer talk in it.”

She laughs. “So I’ve heard. Is it as good as the movie?”

Jason scoffs. “Oh, it’s much better than the movie.” He leans forward. “Like, 85% of their problems could have been solved if you had been running the computers.” She laughs. “I’m telling you, Babs. And the only person in the book with any sense is the game warden, and they nerfed him in the movie. It’s ridiculous. But it’s so good.”

“Jason!” Dick calls. “Do another song, come on.”

He must really be in a good mood, he thinks about himself, to indulge Dick like this.

He does his favorite My Chemical Romance song, “Na Na Na”– he had been obsessed with it back in the day, when he had been Robin and one of his favorite bands had mentioned the Batman in a song, holy shit– and everyone else gets into it. 

“Shit!” Tim says, standing quickly. “My go-to is from the same album.”

He quickly queues up “The Only Hope for Me Is You.”

Fuck, Jason thinks, the kid might have stolen their music taste but at least he did it well. Kon is nodding along like he’s heard this song at karaoke at least a hundred times before.

“You should have seen Tim when he had long hair,” Steph says, laughing to Barbara. “He loved putting it in front of his face and acting like the biggest emo kid on the block when we would go to karaoke. It was such a good bit.”

Jason sighs. He would have laughed at that when he was a teenager. Hell, he’d probably laugh at it if Tim did it now, if he wasn’t committed to maintaining the aloof demeanor around his siblings as best he can.

The night winds down, slowly. Dick does another song, then pulls out a choreographed routine to “Finesse” with Kory– typical, Jason seethes, as the fellow partgoers laugh and clap around him. Kon does some bullshit country song– John Denver, Damian tells him stiffly, before hesitating and remarking that Clark plays John Denver in the car when he drives them places. Duke and Steph both do another song.

Then Cass says she has to get ready for patrol, some surveillance thing she’s working on outside of Bruce’s help, and Barbara nods and adds that she forgot that was tonight.

“Drop is at 1,” Cass says, and when Jason checks his watch he realizes it’s almost 11:30. Not late on any of their timetables, but the place does close at midnight.

They all eventually gather their stuff and make their way outside after that.

Well. Jason did it! He survived the night without Superboy killing him and without harming any of him siblings. He got Damian to do their dance routine without killing himself on stage. A successful night, if he says so himself.

He turns and finds Tim staring at him.

“I really didn’t think you were going to come,” Tim says. He sounds very drunk. Jason might be concerned if he didn’t know a member of the world’s most sober family was right next to him.

“Well, uh,” Jason says sort of pathetically. “I’m sure Dick told you I love karaoke. And, you know, Damian had to get you an equivalent gift to that sick ass sword.”

Tim just looks at him, large blue-grey eyes glassy in the street lights. “Right…”

“I didn’t get you a gift,” Jason says awkwardly.

Tim stares at him for a second, before he lets out a weird sort of giggle. Definitely drunk. “How about you pinky promise not to try to kill me again?”

“Okay!” Dick says, wrapping his limbs around Jason’s torso. “Thank you so much for coming, Jason. Wow. Brotherly moments. I can’t wait to tell Alfred about this.”

Jason pushes Dick off of him and holds out his hand. “I can do that,” he says. Tim stares at his outstretched hand, a blank look on his face. “Not try to kill you again. Injuries while sparring don’t count.”

Tim smiles up at him. Yeah, definitely drunk, Jason thinks. He takes Jason’s hand between both of his and just kind of holds it, shaking it a little but more just holding onto his thumb. “Sounds good, bro.”

“Don’t call me bro,” Jason says.

“Whatever you say, bro,” Tim says, before letting go of his hand and stepping back over to Kon.

“Beam me up, Scotty,” he says, holding out his arms like he’s getting his wingspan measured.

Kon rolls his eyes even as he grins. “I should’ve never shown you Star Trek. You’re so embarrassing.”

Tim flips him off, his arms not moving from their position. Kon sighs and latches onto him, pulling him into a weird hug/holding position before blasting off into the sky. Jason hears Tim whoop before they’re so far up that they can’t be seen anymore.

“Does Bruce know they’re in Gotham airspace?” Jason says as Dick comes to stand next to him.

“Bruce has a standing order to ignore anything with the El shield on it in Gotham,” Dick says. “They’re all around too much to stop it anymore.”

Jason grunts noncommittally. He wonders if that logic applies to Bizarro.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Dick says, nudging him a little. “And you didn’t want to come. Ha!”

“You’re already ruining it,” Jason mutters.

“Bullshit,” Dick says, laughing a little. “You had fun, I can tell.”

“Whatever,” Jason says, because he’s loath to admit when Dick is right about anything.

“I don’t know how you got Damian to do that, but maybe I should be including you in his… continued socialization process,” Dick says carefully.

Jason shrugs. “He told me Tim got him a custom promethium katana for his last birthday. Birthday gifts should be equivalent in sentimental value.”

“Sounds like a rule out of your old-timey books,” Dick says, grinning. “The sword was sick.”

“Yeah, I told him to bring it next time I take him out to kill people,” Jason says.

Dick’s lip curls, and he punches Jason’s shoulder. “You’re not invited to socialization parties anymore.”

They watch as Damian holds the door open from Barbara, still sipping on his carton of pomegranate juice. “I don’t know, man,” Jason says. “I think he’s doing just fine.”

“Kinda hit me in there that you never really had a team,” Dick says, his voice somber. “I mean, Damian and I have our Titans. Tim has his team, which Steph teams up with when she needs to, and Cass always insists she works better alone. Hell, even Bruce and Babs have their own units. But, you… I mean, I know you have the Outlaws, but back when…” Dick trails off.

Jason tries not to think about it most of the time. If he had been a Titan like Dick had been a Titan, would he have died the way he had? Certainly not with teammates like Starfire or Raven. He had been with the Titans, but he had never really fit in; he was just Dick’s little brother, the original replacement. But he did have his Outlaws, who he wouldn’t trade for the world, and he had people like Roy whenever he needed backup.

“I’ve got people,” Jason says, huffing.

“You’ve got us,” Dick says. He stands a little straighter. “Seriously, Little Wing. Whenever, wherever. If you ever call anyone for help, or to talk, or just anything. We’ll answer.”

Jason thinks about tonight. How Dick, Steph, and Damian had shown up and begged him to come. How Cass had been so excited to see him, how Kori and Barbara had greeted him so warmly. How Duke had slid into the booth next to him so casually, despite only having met him a few times. How Tim had been willing to look past everything that had ever happened between them in order to let Jason be at his fucking birthday party. How even Kon, the seemingly eternal guard dog, had relaxed around him once he had realized that everyone else in the room was fine with Jason being there.

He had tried for years to put distance between himself and the rest of the family, to make himself unavailable except at the most inopportune of times. He showed up only when forced, and sometimes not even then.

But he was so, so tired.

Tired of running from the feeling of missing his older brother and his old life. Tired of Damian calling him on the phone instead of just speaking to him in person, like they had when he was growing up. Tired of jumping from safehouse to safehouse to live because his brain was constantly thinking about people tracking him and nowhere offered security quite like the manor had when he lived there.

Maybe he was never going to live in the manor again, or obey Bruce’s orders, but maybe he could just… let it all go. It would take some more digging, or some soul-searching that Jason was too tired to do right now, but he thinks he could do it.

“Yeah, man,” he says, patting Dick’s shoulder. “I know.”