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It takes Ed a moment to register who is standing on the other side of the door when he opens it. As a result, it’s Tim who greets him first, nodding in response to some internal dialogue that Ed isn’t party to, before saying, “So you really are here. That’s good. I need your help, Mr. Ed.”
Maybe it’s that Ed hasn’t seen the kid in months or maybe it’s that he associates him exclusively with Gotham, which isn’t that far removed from Bludhaven but is still far enough that it wouldn’t be an easy trip for a twerp Tim’s age to manage solo. (Did he come on his own? There certainly aren’t any visible adults with Tim now.) Maybe it’s that, despite Ed’s unplanned international trip with Dick, he’s still processing- grieving- Jason’s death. Maybe it’s the false sense of normality Ed has started letting himself get lulled into living with Dick. In any case, his answer is a baffled “Fwuh?” followed by a marginally less off-kilter, “Uh, sure, kid, come on in,” and shuffles out of the way to allow Tim inside.
Solemn as ever, Tim offers Ed a little nod of thanks, following wordlessly when Ed wanders farther into the apartment, making for Dick’s tiny kitchen. Ed doesn’t (and probably never will) consider himself much of a host, but he can still offer the kid something to drink. A glass of water, maybe, or… Ed thinks they might have orange juice? No, he’s pretty sure someone drank the last of the orange juice yesterday. They have coffee but Ed doesn’t feel like making a pot at the moment. Water it is then.
”So,” Ed speaks up, stretching the syllable out as he pulls a glass from one of the cabinets. Tim’s eyes track his every movement despite the fact that he hasn’t spoken another word since he arrived. No explanation about why he decided to show up in Bludhaven, of all places, looking for Edward Elric, of all people. “What brings you here? Most people who need my help for something head to the docks.” And, okay, maybe Ed feels a tiny twinge of something that might be guilt over the idea that people might still be making the trip over to the docks to ask him for help, only to find out that “the magician” isn’t there anymore, but it’s not like it was an official position. He never promised to always be there to fix shit for any random stranger that decided to stop by with a bottle of cheap booze and a sob story. And, besides, that’s really only speculation. Conjecture. Maybe no one has been out to Ed’s warehouse by the docks at all. Or maybe they have been, but they worked another solution on their own, the same way they would have before Ed showed up in Gotham. Besides, there is a very non-hypothetical person who definitely needs Ed, not to fix anything but because Edward Elric knows what it’s like to lose a brother and because he values Ed as a person, not only a solution. And because Ed loves Dick. Because, in the absence of any way to return home, this is where he wants to be, with Dick. This is all background thinking, of course, white noise level activity in the back of Ed’s brain, because Tim is answering.
”I came here,” Tim answers simply, “because you weren’t at your warehouse when I went there.”
”Still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Ed grouses. “Or now. I might not have been here, either, you know that? I spent the last month or two traveling, as it happens.”
”Oh, that’s easy,” Tim tells him breezily, as if it really is easy. “When I went to visit you the first time, Mr. Ed- I guess it was when you were traveling- I set up motion detectors on the entrances that alert to my phone. That way, I’d know when you came back. Except that when you came back, you packed all of your stuff up and went somewhere else. Only, I remembered that you’re dating Nightwing and Nightwing is Dick Grayson so it would make sense that if you were moving somewhere, it would be to be closer to your boyfriend and even if it wasn’t, he’d probably know where you were living. After that, it was just a matter of finding Mr. Grayson’s address.” There’s a pause while Ed, still holding an empty glass, gapes at little Timmy. “But that’s not important,” Tim charges on, capitalizing on the momentum he’s already built up explaining how he worked out (sort of) where Ed is hanging out these days. “What’s important is that I need you to fix Jason Todd.”
”Jason Todd,” Edward echoes and doesn’t drop the glass to shatter on the floor even though that would have been the most dramatically appropriate reaction in the moment. He sets the glass on the nearby counter. “You want me to ‘fix’ Jason Todd.”
”That’s right, Mr. Ed.” Tim nods eagerly. Too eagerly. As if he hasn’t just opened exactly the can of worms that landed Ed in this world, called up one of the worst mistakes (arguably- he’s done a lot of stupid shit depending on who’s doing the accounting) of his entire life. “I don’t know if you heard the news since you’ve been gone for a while but Jason Todd was killed. So. So I need you to fix his body so he can be alive again.”
”Kid,” Ed says. “Tim.” He doesn’t know if it’s anger or panic or grief that’s making it feel like his throat is closing up. He’s so glad, so, so glad that Dick is still in the bathroom, showering and getting dressed for the day. He reminds himself (attempts to) that Tim hasn’t grown up in a world with alchemy, he doesn’t know the basic tenets or that he’s asking for something that should never, ever be attempted or why. Tim doesn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t know any better. “Tim,” Ed tries again, looking Tim firmly in the eye, “it’s more complicated than that. Even if I could fix Jason’s body, it wouldn’t make him alive again. He’d just be- he’d just be a less damaged corpse. Bringing someone back from the dead- human alchemy- it’s complex and it’s dangerous. There’s a reason why it’s illegal where I come from. The price for what you’re asking is too high and it never works out the way you want it to. Believe me, kid. I know. Been there, done that.”
Ed has been trying not to raise his voice, mainly because he doesn’t want to alarm Dick- they can talk about this later, when Tim isn’t around and it’s just the two of them and not… Ed doesn’t have to be a genius at emotional well-being or human psychology to know that this isn’t the kind of conversation that a person needs to walk in on with no forewarning. Despite the lack of shouting, the intensity of Ed’s voice, of what he’s trying to convey, must sink in because Tim does look shaken. He still holds Ed’s eye contact with a steady look of his own, however, and there’s still a stubborn tension to his posture. “Maybe that’s how things are where you’re from,” Tim counters, “but it’s not illegal here. As far as I know. And we can make it work because there are all sorts of people with magic powers like Zatanna Zatara who works with the Justice League or, or there’s this John Constantine guy I was able to find some information about. He’s not as credible, maybe, but he’s also done work with the Justice League according to some stuff I found online and he’s worked with demons so finding a soul would probably be easy for him. My point is: all I need you to do is fix Jason’s body and then I can get someone else to bring his soul back and then- and then Robin will come back because Robin can’t be dead. Batman needs him. Gotham needs him.”
Several emotions with associated baggage shove their way through Ed’s brain in quick succession. One is curiosity and it’s best friend, horrible temptation. Maybe there is some way, here, in this world, that Ed really could pull off bringing a person back from the dead. Maybe he could reconstruct Jason’s body and then, with the help of one of these other specialists Tim is talking about (‘specialists’ because Ed refuses to believe that what they do is any more ‘magic’ than his own alchemy), he could… he could actually bring Jason back. No tears, no lost limbs, no consequences, just Jason, the way he remembers the kid being the last time they hung out together. Except Ed knows better. There are always consequences. Because the Gate demands payment and because Truth has a sick sense of justice and whatever it is, no matter what it is, it’s guaranteed to be more than Ed can pay. Even for Jason.
There’s a little voice in his head, quiet and calculating, that accompanies this line of thought and whispers, ‘A brother for a brother. That’s what the Gate will demand.’ Which… makes sense. A woman desperate to save her baby is rendered incapable of ever being pregnant again. A little boy who desperately wants nothing more than to be held by his mother is left without a body. An idiot who should know better than to mess with something this dangerous tries to save one brother, to bring him back to life, and the Gate will… in return for trading in the older brother. Jason and Dick aren’t related by blood but they are family. Taking Dick as payment for bringing Jason back is exactly the kind of ironic bullshit that Truth would absolutely go in for. And, what’s worse, if Ed ever said any of this out loud to Dick, he isn’t sure that Dick wouldn’t go along with it, that he wouldn’t give up everything and abandon Ed to switch places with Jason.
Anger is another emotion, tangling in with the curiosity. Anger at Tim for not accepting Ed’s initial ‘no’ and fury with himself for even considering the logistics of such an attempt. And then more anger again that Tim apparently wants to bring Jason back because Batman needs Robin and not because losing Jason as a person, Jason who was so kind and funny and stubborn, who came to Ed to fix a little stuffed fox, was a tragedy all on its own. There’s fear and nausea and grief. Grief for Jason (again, still) and grief for himself and grief for the two boys who once stood at the edge of an alchemy circle, full of hope, only to be torn apart by the harsh realities of the world instead. He can’t- he won’t- he can’t-
”No,” Ed snaps and Tim flinches back. “No. I already told you no, kid. No matter what tricks you think you have up your sleeve, the cost is always too much. I’m not doing it. I can’t. Don’t ask me again.”
Tim opens his mouth to say something but it’s someone else who speaks. “Ed?” Dick is walking toward them, looking concerned, with water still dripping from his hair. He’s shirtless but at least he’s had the foresight (or luck) to throw on a pair of sweatpants so he isn’t walking out in his underpants or, worse, naked to some random kid hanging out with his boyfriend in the kitchen. Some random kid arguing with his boyfriend in the kitchen. Some random kid who knows, apparently, that Dick Grayson is Nightwing. ...He may needs a heads up on that. “What’s going on? Is everything alright with you, uh, two..?” Dick asks just as Tim turns and, with tact that Edward himself would admittedly be a hypocrite for criticizing, says, “Mr. Grayson! Mr. Ed says he can’t bring Jason back to life so you need to be Robin again.”
The conversation, understandably, goes downhill from there. Well, from Tim’s perspective, it probably goes downhill. From Ed’s point of view, it’s been in the pits since the word ‘go’ and couldn’t have plummeted any lower if it had broken out a shovel and started digging. Not that asking (demanding) that Dick return to running around at Bruce’s beck and call just because the bastard decided to make his guilt everyone else’s problem isn’t a shit move, especially as a back-up plan to reconstructing his brother’s corpse and raising him from the dead, but, well, human alchemy is a sore subject for Ed. Human alchemy with the goal of bringing back a loved one who died way before they ever should have died is only more so. The entire ordeal (and it definitely turns into an ordeal) ends with Tim resentfully accepting a ride back home to Gotham and also tearfully declaring that neither of them is the person he thought they were, they’re both horrible people, Gotham is suffering, Bruce Wayne is suffering (HA!), and he, Timothy Drake, will find a way to solve this on his own. Et cetera. Et cetera.
It isn’t like the kid can learn alchemy do piece Jason back together himself and there’s no way Ed is going to give him the chance to talk Dick into pulling the Robin costume back on so what does any of it really matter?
Ed doesn’t think about that visit or, very pointedly attempts not to think about the visit again over the course of the following month or so. It’s easier than it might have been if Ed were still living on his own in that warehouse with no one else to draw him out of his own head and vice versa. As it is, Ed putters around. He tinkers on projects around Dick’s (around their) apartment that don’t really need doing and kisses his boyfriend and Dick goes to work (both the regular variety and the vigilante kind) and they both spend time together watching questionable daytime television or talking about some book Ed has been reading, making dinner pressed together side-by-side in Dick’s (their) tiny kitchen. Then Ed catches a brief news segment celebrating Robin’s return to the Gotham crime-fighting scene and suddenly Ed wishes that he had thought about Tim’s visit because- because- there is no way, absolutely no way that kid could figure out enough alchemy to draw a circle for baby’s first DIY sculpture project much less pull off something as complicated as bringing a human back to life. The blurry, poorly lit, distant figure in a bright costume making his way across a roof at Batman’s heels can’t be Jason. As useless as the footage may be for identifying who actually is dogging after Bruce in the Robin outfit, logic decrees that it nevertheless, indisputably is not Jason Todd. Except… there’s a persistent little voice in the back of Ed’s head that keeps saying ‘but.’ But Tim was a smart kid. And not just a smart kid but a smart kid with no sense, a lot of determination, and resources. Ed hadn’t really seen anything in this world to indicate that anyone here had a working knowledge of alchemy (apart from himself and his old man back when) but if little Timmy really could pull in some bigwig with the ability to put a line through to the spirits of dead people the way he seemed to think he could, well… “We have to go to Gotham,” Ed says, words coming out in a rush, right as Dick announces, “I have to go to Gotham.”
Ed’s brain short circuits for a second, freezes up because he knows why they need to go to Gotham- to prove that this Tim Drake kid hasn’t figure out how to perform human alchemy and gotten himself tangled up in the enormously monumental shit show that goes along with that- but Dick shouldn’t know that. Why does Dick want to go to Gotham? Why does Dick think this is an ‘I’ situation? “The fuck,” Ed says.
Dick gives him a look. It could be read as ‘unimpressed’ or it could be the start of an argument about something else. The bit of Ed’s brain not focused on panicking about potential, as-of-yet unconfirmed Alchemic Consequences recalls the part of Tim’s visit where he tried (unsuccessfully) to argue Dick into returning to the role of Robin. Meanwhile, Dick has hopped up off of the couch and is collecting his keys and wallet. “You don’t have to come,” he tells Ed, as if the problem is that Ed wants this idiot to dive straight into whatever the hell this situation is on his own.
Ed doesn’t waste the time explaining how stupid Dick sounds saying that. Instead, he gripes back with “As if I’m letting you leave me here,” and follows Dick to the car.