Chapter Text
Tim blinks at Connor.
“Connor,” Tim begins, “I’m not sure if anyone’s ever told you this before, but we know more about you than you think.”
Connor watches as Tim pulls himself to lean back on his chair. Connor is confused, understandably so, because how would Tim know he was a deviant hunter? He’s never told anyone. No one suggested that they might know where he came from, what he was, or what he used to do.
“You’re not dangerous,” Tim assures. “I don’t know how much you know, but you do know dad found you in a lab, right?”
Connor nods.
“Okay. Well,” Tim explains, “we found out that he wasn’t just keeping you there for no reason. You- uhm- how do I explain this? He wanted to use you because you have something in your veins. Something no one else has. It’s called venom.”
There’s that word again. Venom.
“I’m not sure how much you know about venom, but essentially it’s a solution that physically enhances a person’s strength. It pumps their muscles up to grotesque levels.”
Connor raises a brow. He glances at his arm.
Tim immediately adds, catching the way Connor was inspecting himself, “The venom that’s in your veins is a variant. It focuses on enhancing the brain instead of the body. It makes the user very intelligent. Abnormally so.”
Connor’s glances back up at Tim. He blanks out.
“I’m guessing Jason was the one who gave you the idea that you’re dangerous,” Tim says, “but that’s wrong. Just because you’re different from us, just because you’ve got a different physical makeup, doesn’t mean you’re automatically dangerous. You’ve never done anything to hurt any of us. I'm pretty sure that checks you out as safe.”
Tim was right. They did know more about Connor than he thought they knew, and this startling realization doesn’t make him feel any better. He’d meant to tell Tim that he wasn’t what they thought he was, that he used to be a deviant hunter, but now he’s not sure if he wants to tell him anything at all. He’d built up the courage to bring it up to begin with, but now there was an entirely different issue being brought up.
“You’re family, Connor, and that’s all that matters,” Tim says.
Connor mentally pauses.
Connor hesitates. “Really?”
It’s the first word he’s said that sounded small. He didn’t even know words could sound small.
“Yeah,” Tim nods. “It doesn’t matter what you were created to be, who you are now, or in the future. You’re family. Nothing will change that.”
Connor was stunned.
Well. If that was the case…?
“I-” Connor starts, intent on spilling everything all over again, and Tim was listening. He was waiting. He-
“Ah. Hey!”
Tim looks up from Connor to look past him. Connor shoots a glance over his shoulder.
“Have either of you seen Jason?” Dick asks from the entrance with a sheepish smile on his face.
“No,” Tim says, “but you might want to check with dad.”
“Yeah, I mean, I figured,” Dick sighs, “but I didn’t want to bother him if I didn’t have to. He’s got enough to deal with.”
“He’s dealing with Damian right now,” Tim says.
“Huh?” Dick sounds, surprised, “Did something happen?”
Tim grabs at a pen on the table, and then he starts to fiddle with it.
“He’s not happy with Jason,” Tim says, “he went to take it up with dad.”
“Yikes. That’s not good.”
“He’s just angry on Connor’s behalf,” Tim says, “and it makes sense considering the fact that Connor doesn’t really get angry for himself. Ever. He needs someone to stick up for him, so I think Damian’s just feeling obligated to do it.”
Connor thinks back to when Jason apologized to him, and feels cold shame slam into his chest like a frozen bag of ice cubes. Should he correct Tim? He had gotten angry, and he’d gotten angry at Jason. There had been no need for Damian to stand up for him. Connor had already experienced the frustration himself, and then his dad made it all better by hanging out with him.
Right?
It was over, right?
He told me he wanted me to hurt like he did.
Connor had been angry, but now he felt guilty.
Because, sure he was a little miserable, but didn’t he deserve the hurt? He’d hurt so many deviants. He’d taken away their chances to be free. He was a hypocrite. The worst kind.
Dick blinks at Tim. “Did something happen between you and Damian? I don’t remember you… uhm…”
“What?” Tim asks.
“You just defended him, and you didn’t seem to have a problem messing around with him in the cave.”
“He’s my little brother,” Tim says.
Dick stares. Comprehension dawns on his face.
“Oh.” He says. “Oh. I get it now. You’ve got the big brother instincts now, huh?”
Dick leaves the entrance. He strides for Tim.
“Dick,” Tim warns.
Dick grins. He raises two hands, slaps them down on Tim’s head, and roughly messes up his hair. Tim squawks, bending his head down to avoid Dick’s hands, and shooting out his own to protect his hair.
“You’re like me, now, Timmy!” Dick cheers in glee.
“Dick!” Tim complains, swatting his hands away. “I’m not like you! Go mess with someone else!”
Dick withdraws his hands. He looks at Connor.
Tim catches his look. “No. I didn’t mean-” He stands up abruptly from his chair.
Too late. Dick closes the distance between him and Connor, raises his hands in the air again, and Tim watches in horror as Dick settles his hands on Connor’s head.
Dick is giving Tim a humorous look as he watches for his reaction. He laughs, gently ruffles Connor’s hair, and then pulls back with a pat.
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to mess with Connor. Not too bad,” Dick laughs. Connor tries to crane his head back to look at him.
Dick looks down at him with twinkling blue eyes.
Connor looks at Tim again, back at Dick, and then hovers his hands above his head.
“Hm?” Dick says as Connor grabs one of his hands.
Connor guides his hand to rest on his head.
“Me,” Connor says.
Dick gapes. “You want me to ruin your hair?”
Connor nods.
Dick smirks. “It will be my honor!”
Dick runs his hands through Connor’s hair, and roughs it up until it resembles Tim’s frazzled head. He laughs while he does it, finding great pleasure in Connor’s participation, and when he withdraws his hands he looks at his work with satisfaction.
“You have now passed the little brother test,” Dick jokes.
Connor smiles.
He didn’t think it was too strange, but Dick seems to be caught off-guard by it. Tim does, too, because he’s frozen in place, unsure what to do with himself. Both of their eyes are glued to Connor’s face, and Connor starts to feel a little self-conscious.
“Sorry,” he whispers, making the smile disappear.
Tim rushes out, spluttering, “No! No, it’s fine, it was just - uh - it’s nice!”
“Yeah!” Dick says, backing Tim up, “You should smile more! It looks good on you!”
Connor sheepishly avoids their eyes.
“It’s cute,” Dick says, smiling real wide, “you’d probably win some hearts if you tried that on a couple of girls.”
Tim rolls his eyes. “Don’t give him any ideas, Dick. We’re not all obsessed with dating.”
Dick gasps, “Tim!”
“It’s true!” Tim defends. “You’re always talking about them!”
“Not all the time,” Dick says.
“Enough of the time,” Tim groans.
Connor brings a hand up to his lips to hide the new smile that weasels its way onto his face. The movement isn’t unnoticed. Dick gives him a mischievous, playful glare.
“Are you laughing at me, Connor?”
Connor’s smile disappears. He shakes his head frantically, pulls his hand down, and places it in his lap.
“Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson,” Dick says, hands reaching out, fingers flexing.
Both Connor and Tim yelp when Dick pulls Connor out of his chair, throws him over his shoulder, and cackles.
“Dick! Put him down!” Tim cries.
“Haha!” Dick caws out like a villain, “Make me!”
Dick starts running out of the library with Connor, his education completely forgotten, and Tim is so startled that he doesn’t follow them until they’re out of the room altogether.
Connor feels something bubble up in his throat again except it’s not an unpleasant sob this time. It’s something else. It’s not as tight, it’s pressurizing in a different way, and it needs to come out.
Connor laughs brightly.
The laughter feels so strange, but it also feels like it needs to come all out. Connor laughs as he hangs from Dick’s shoulder, dangling down the hallway as he carries him away, and Dick starts laughing too which makes it worse.
“He needs to learn how to write!” Tim shouts.
“Sorry, Tim, we’ll have to take a rain check!” Dick shouts back.
“This isn’t baseball, Dick!”
“I don’t know. You sure are chasing me like it is!”