... I'll be honest, I really hate this.
I wanted to write something, though, so you get my junk as a result.
... As usual, it involves Jason. HE'S NOT EVEN MY FAVORITE! DICK IS!
... I do not own Young Justice. Or Jason.
Tim saw Dick crying sometimes.
It was always from afar, and he always made sure the older boy could not see him. It was always really odd to see his strong, happy older brother breaking down like that. It actually sort of scared Tim.
Which made him particularly glad that only a few things triggered Dick's tears. Like those pictures Dick kept hidden in the back of his closet, but always managed to make it to the front, into the young man's sight. Or a random shirt that looked about Tim's size that his brother found underneath his bed.
However, some things that caused the crying were always there. Such as the locked door right in between Dick and Tim's own rooms. Every time the young adult passed that door, tears started to brim in his eyes, and often dropped, leaving a wet trail down his face.
Then, of course, was the cause that explained everything else. The display case in the cave that held a tattered and ripped Robin costume, and a shining plaque directly underneath:
A Good Solider
Tim noticed that Dick always tried to avoid looking at the costume. Every time his brother did happen to glance at the uniform, however, he ran off soon after, tears glistening in his crystal blue eyes.
Alfred also stayed far away from the case as much as possible. Unfortunately for the butler, he did have to dust it occasionally. When this occurred, though, his eyes were almost always firmly shut, and misery was evident on his face.
Bruce never looked at the case, period. At least, never when he thought Tim was around. When the boy snuck down into the cave when he was supposed to be sound asleep in the manor, though, he could see the man staring at the costume. There was never any real emotion on his face; he just stared, deep in thought.
Tim was never quite sure which reaction scared him the most.
He always wanted to know more about the Robin that came directly before him. What he was like, if he was a good fighter, if he had ever joined the team. Tim was curious about it all. He was always a bit scared to ask Bruce anything, though, so the one time he did question anyone about the boy, he had gone straight to Dick.
That had certainly ended badly.
Tim had never seen Dick that angry, and he hadn't since. The pure fury that bringing up the fallen bird rose in the older hero discouraged Tim from asking anything else ever again on that particular topic.
It was while he was standing, staring at the costume in question, that the boy made a decision to find out about the past Robin himself.
"Jason Todd," he whispered. The name felt odd and foreign on his tongue. Most thoughts about the other boy felt that way as well.
He had a plan. Bruce was on an off planet mission, Alfred was on vacation, and Dick was at a meeting about the team and was not expected back for an hour. They had trusted Tim alone in the manor, something they had never done before.
It was the only opportunity he was ever going to get. With much purpose, Tim strode down the hallway with his and Dick's rooms.
As well as the locked room of Jason Todd.
The initial problem of the door being, well, locked, was soon mitigated by a paper clip he always kept in his pocket. Would that work for most people on a door Bruce choose? No, but Tim Drake was not most people.
The door now unlocked, the boy took a deep breath. He was really not supposed to be doing this. Bruce would have a fit if he knew.
He had to find out who the lost boy was, though. Confident in his decision, Tim swung the door open-
Only to be met with a cloud of dust. A fit of coughs was triggered, and he could barely see. It wasn't until the dust cleared that he even got to view the room.
Walking farther inside, Tim bluntly noticed the decorations all over the room. There were various hard rock posters everywhere, for bands such as Three Days Grace, Linkin Park, and Hollywood Undead. The dark curtains for the room was closed tightly over the window, and the red bedding on the four-poster bed was still in disarray. There was clothes scattered across the ground, as well as many papers stuffed into one corner. Walking up to the pile, Tim picked a paper.
"A parent/guardian teacher conference is requested for your child, Jason Todd, due to talking back to a teacher."
He grabbed another paper, seeing a similar message, only about starting a fight. Going through the whole pile, he saw they were all requests for conferences.
"Did he show any of these to Bruce?" he whispered to himself, intrigued.
Looking over at the dresser directly next to him, a framed photo caught the boy's attention. Standing from his crouched position, he reached for the frame. After blowing the dust off the glass, he studied the picture.
There were two figures. The taller of the two was obviously Dick, looking about sixteen years old. He was smiling brightly, with his arm wrapped around the shoulder of a boy that looked about Tim's age. The boy had light blue eyes, pale skin, and raven hair arranged messily around his face. There was an annoyed expression on the boy's face, though one could easily tell he was not unhappy in the position, and was enjoying the attention.
With a start, Tim realized he was staring at a photo of the infamous Jason Todd.
Slowly putting the frame down, he started to back away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the near empty room. His blood ran cold when he bumped into the chest of his older brother.
"I see you've found Jason's room," Dick whispered quietly. He may have sounded calm, but Tim knew it was the calm before the storm.
Dick looked away from Tim, and down at the photo the boy had placed down just a moment before.
"You were curious, I guess. Tim... let's talk somewhere else. How does my room sound?"
Without waiting for an answer from his younger brother, Dick stalked out of the room. Tim was right at his heels, and stood next to his brother as the door was relocked. When they entered Dick's room, the older boy sat down on the bed, running his hand through his black hair. Tim sat hesitantly next to Dick.
"Tim... Do you know why we never talk about Jason?"
This question made the boy merely raise an eyebrow.
"Of course. He died, right?"
At the words, Dick took a deep breath in obvious terror of the memory.
"Yeah... He died. Was.. murdered."
Clapping his hands together, Dick quickly moved on.
"Point is, bringing Jay up causes emotions that... well, none of us want to feel. Bruce tries to ignore them, but I assume you've noticed him staring at the case?"
"Thought so. You're too observant to not have."
Sighing again, Dick looked Tim square in the eyes.
"Just... don't go in there again, okay? I won't tell Bruce about this time, but I'll have to tell him if it happens again. No one is supposed to go into Jay's room."
Tim nodded his head in understanding.
Now smiling slightly again, Dick ruffled his brother's hair, and led him out of the room.
As soon as Tim was once again in the hallway, he looked at the locked door one more time. Behind that doorway, a boy not so different from himself had dwelled before he was taken from this life. Sure, Tim didn't get into trouble nearly as often, but he struggled to find himself. Just like it looked like Jason had.
"Jason Todd," he whispered again. It didn't seem quite as odd any more.
Smiling slightly, Tim walked into his own room, deep in thought about a mischievous boy with blue eyes and messy black hair.
...Right. I really hated this...
I'm debating if I should write another chapter... it doesn't feel done...