A Clean Slate
Peter groaned at the sudden light in the room, squinting at the ceiling, before turning his gaze to the motherfucker that decided to disturb them. Duke smirked, turning the lights off and then on again. “Wake up, sleepyheads!”
Tim groaned beside Peter, sitting up. “Dude, what the fuck?”
Duke cackled upon seeing Tim there. “Come on, it’s Christmas! Let’s go.”
“We’re naked, get out,” Tim stated blatantly, making Duke fake-gag before leaving, closing the door behind him.
Peter giggled and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek, then trailing down to his jaw, then down his neck and to his collarbone, then— “You know we won’t be able to finish this fast enough if they come to check on us again,” Tim interrupted.
Peter Parker pouted. “Fine. Hey, Tim, guess what?”
“What?”
“Merry Christmas.”
Tim sighed, unable to help the content smile that formed without his say so. “Merry Christmas.”
The two got out of bed and dressed back into their pajamas quickly, heading out of their room and sliding down the bannister. Breakfast was spread out on the coffee table in front of the tree, with warm cinnamon rolls, slices of bacon, bowls of scrambled eggs, sausages, hell, even pop tarts. The rest of the family (plus Jason, which Peter was proud to admit he had a part in) was already downstairs and waiting for the two teens, digging into the plentiful spread in front of them. Peter plucked a paper plate and started dishing himself a heaping portion of everything before sitting cross-legged in front of the tree. Tim joined him a second later with his own plate, clearly only half awake as he leaned into Peter, humming softly.
“And now,” Steph announced, “the Wayne tradition, reading headlines about the Christmas Gala! Bruce, would you care to start us off?”
Bruce smirked from his place on the couch and pulled out his phone, scrolling for a bit before saying, “Ah! Here’s one! Exclusive Shots of Tim Drake-Wayne and Tom Andrew Tobey Lucas.”
Snickers echoed around the room.
“Here’s another!” Dick cleared his throat. “Stephanie Brown Flips Off Camera in Shocking Show of Anger.”
“Dunno why it’s shocking,” Steph mused. “I do that every year, it’s like a tradition at this point. Alright, my turn. Bruce Wayne’s Top Ten Sluttiest Moments of 2018.”
“I love those articles,” Bruce enthused. “They always get my good side.”
“I’ve got one,” Duke chimed. “New Wayne Family Heir Duke Thomas-Wayne Found Flirting With Brother’s Boyfriend.”
Peter cackled loudly, startling his poor weary Tim. “Oh, that’s a good one.”
Duke shrugged. “What can I say? I like to mix things up a bit.”
Cass held up her phone, her screen displaying, ‘Damian Wayne Bites Guest After Racist Remark.’
Bruce was torn between a smirk and a look of disapproval.
“Yeah!” Peter cheered, holding out his hand, “Up top, Dami.”
“That’s my brother!” Jason cackled, also holding up his hand.
Damian high-fived them both, a dangerous smirk on his face. “Let’s see if they ever make that comment about Duke again.”
Duke beamed at the youngest. “Thank you, Damian.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Who was it?” Bruce asked.
“One of the Carson’s spawn,” Damian answered. “Why? You’re not mad, are you?”
“While I don’t like the fact that you solved that with violence, the reason I’m asking is so I know who to ban in the future,” Bruce reassured.
“In that case, it was Stuart Carson.”
Dick cringed in sympathy. “He was always annoying anyways.”
“Anyone got anything else?” Steph asked. Everyone shook their heads, except Tim, who was still passed out on Peter’s shoulder.
“Then let’s open some presents.”
Presents were passed out to each of the family members, and Peter was surprised to find a decent stack next to him. “You guys know you didn’t have to get me anything, right?”
Dick rolled his eyes. “Peter, you’re loved here. So damn much. Of course we were going to get you presents.”
Peter blushed, grinning sheepishly. “Thanks.”
“Alright, youngest first,” Bruce instructed.
Damian tore open his package, revealing an elegant knife set. He checked the tag, then kicked Tim in the side. Tim jolted awake with a snort, glaring at Damian. “Thank you, Drake.”
“That’s how you say thank you?!”
“Yes.”
Tim sighed in resignation. “You’re welcome.”
They went around the circle like that, with Duke being next, then Peter, then Tim, then Steph, then Cass, then Jason, then Dick, then Bruce, then Alfred. Around and around they went until there was nothing left under the tree.
“Master Peter, I believe I have the correct sizes for you in snow gear.”
Peter looked up from his food, an eyebrow raised curiously. “Snow gear?”
“Yes.” Alfred’s eye had a dangerous sparkle as everyone else around the dining table began to snicker. “I thought you had been made aware of the annual tradition. After lunch on Christmas Day, everyone participates in a snowball fight.”
Peter’s eyes grew wide as he considered this. “Everyone?”
Alfred’s smirk was terrifying. “Oh yes. Everyone.”
Peter blanched. Everyone meant Alfred, and Peter’s Spidey Sense was more than happy to let Peter know that the butler was far more dangerous than the Batman himself. “Oh god.”
“No, Peter, you can’t be losing faith already!” Tim cried. “We have you this year! You and Jason!”
Tim’s eyes flicked to Jason. “If you want to, of course.”
Jason mulled this over. “Are we attacking Bruce?”
“Yes.”
“I’m in.”
Dick snorted and rolled his eyes. “See, Peter? We have you and Jason. There’s no way we can lose this year!”
“Bold of you to assume that changes anything,” Bruce said, a smirk scarily similar to Alfred on his face.
Peter steeled himself. “Okay, fine, this is fine. When do we start?”
“The actual assault begins at 3, but we have one hour to prepare before then. Any and all tools available are on the table,” Damian explained, his voice as sharp as a knife.
Peter nodded slowly, absorbing this. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Tim watched from the doorway as Peter put on his brand new snow boots, lacing them up delicately. Hesitantly, Peter stepped on the wall and pushed off the floor. Tim had to admit, he was curious to see just how far Peter’s stickiness powers extended to as well. Peter took another step up the wall, then another, then another. Peter jumped back to the ground, a triumphant smile on his face as he turned to his boyfriend. Tim smirked, his eyes glinting dangerously. “It’s time.”
Peter nodded and followed Tim to the front door, where everyone was putting on their gear. Tim and Peter quickly followed suit, decking themselves out in as much snow gear as they could fit on them without limiting movement. They headed outside, and Alfred and Bruce split off. Tim was willing to bet they already had a solid plan, which was just fine by him. He had one too, and this year, he was bringing it.
“Okay, this is the plan,” Tim started. “We split up into three teams. Cass and Peter? You’re with me. Our job is to scout them out, which should be no problem for Peter’s super-hearing. Assault Team One is Jason, Dick, and Steph. Once we sniff them out, you lead the charge. Duke and Damian? As Assault Team Two, you will bring up the rear and close in on our targets. Everyone clear?”
Everyone nodded, and Tim’s smile was as sharp and deadly as the katanas Damian carried. “Go.”
Tim, Peter, and Cass crept through the hills near the Manor, listening intently for anything. Peter turned his head sharply to the left, pointing at a hard to see Bruce, who was ducked behind a partially built snow wall. “There,” he whispered.
Tim nodded, pressing the comm in his ear. “Target One has been spotted. Zero in on our location, and on my signal, Assault Team One, lead the charge.”
Various ‘affirmatives’ rang out over the comms, and Tim helped Peter and Cass amass a pile of snowballs, ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice. Assault Team One was with them in minutes, helping to prepare more snowballs. Tim looked over their preparations and nodded. “ATTACK!” he yelled, launching the first snowball at a laughing Bruce.
Bruce pelted them back, suddenly shouting, “Agent A, NOW!”
Alfred was behind them, launching snowball after snowball at the other Bats. Tim was hit in the arm, turning at Peter’s cry of “Betrayal!”
Tim’s mouth fell open as he watched Jason help Alfred launch snowballs. “How could you?!” Steph howled, dramatically falling down as a snowball smacked right over her heart.
Tim laughed, breathless as he tried to put a bit more space between them. Jason turned towards him sharply, a dangerous smirk on his face as he made a snowball the size of a snowman’s middle. Tim was laughing as he stumbled onto his back, looking up at Jason, only for the breath to catch in his throat. Jason towered over him, was holding the bow staff that he had wrenched from Tim’s grip. Tim could hear Jason’s voice echoing in his head, “Now, let me show you what the Joker did to me. And let’s find out how tough you really are.”
Tim couldn’t breathe, wasn’t breathing. No one was around to help him, no one could help him. Tim felt his back smashing into the concrete again in the Memorial Hall, was watching as Jason smashed the statue of Donna Troy, demanding to know where his statue was.
“—im, Tim, can you hear me?”
Tim could taste the blood flowing out of his broken nose, could feel the impact of a boot on his already bruised ribs, could feel that painful grip on his hair as his head was smashed into the floor. Voices swam around him, muddling together.
“Hey, Tim, it’s me, it’s Peter. You’re going to be okay.”
Peter? What was he doing here? Peter wasn’t there that night…
Tim could feel Jason’s hands gripping his wrist as he slammed him into the wall, could feel every scratch and every blow as Jason just kept going. Someone was shaking Tim now, jostling his bruised (and probably cracked) ribs, making it harder to breathe.
“Tim, it’s Dick, your brother. You’re not at Titans Tower, you’re in Gotham. It’s Christmas, and we were having a snowball fight, do you remember?”
Tim blinked, and squinted. December? That couldn’t be right, it wasn’t winter. Was it?
“Tim, you have to come back to us. You’re in Gotham, with family. You’re just having a flashback, it’s going to be okay.”
Someone’s hand was on his shoulder, it was warm and comforting, soft, not gripping hard like Jason had. Tim sucked in a breath, startling at the coldness of it. They never kept it that cold in Titan’s Tower, what was going on?
“It’s just a flashback, Tim. You’re going to be okay.”
“Tim? It’s Peter. I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but you’re going to get through this. I’m right here, stay with me, okay?”
Peter. Peter hadn’t been there.
“Just take some deep breaths for me, alright?”
Tim nodded, trying to do so, trying to get out of there. He blinked a couple of times, and the world shifted. Snow, Tim was lying in snow. Tim sucked in another breath, trying to get a grasp on his surroundings. “That’s right Tim, see the snow around us? There wasn’t snow then, was there? There weren’t pine trees either. Feel the hat on your head? You weren’t wearing that then, you’re not there. It’s okay.”
Slowly, ever so slowly, Tim’s heart managed to stop feeling like it was racing to get away from him, and his breathing slowed. Tim winced and shook his head, blinking and looking around. Right, Gotham. Christmas. They were having a snowball fight. Dick was helping Tim sit up while Peter was clutching Tim’s gloved hand tightly.
“You back with us?” Dick asked.
Tim nodded, swallowing. “Yeah, yeah I think I’m good. Fuck, I just ruined— I’m sorry.”
Tim got to his feet shakily, glancing at each of the concerned faces of his family and friends, blinking away the tears that were freezing on his face. Choking, Tim sprinted towards the Manor, throwing the door open and stripping off the snow gear as he headed towards his room. He just had to ruin things, didn’t he? They finally got Jason for a Christmas and Tim just had to screw it all up.
Tim could vaguely hear someone running behind him, but he didn’t really care. Fuck, what did it matter? This was why Damian wanted nothing to do with him, why Jason wanted nothing to do with him. He just invades grieving families and makes everything worse, doesn’t he? Tim opened his closet door and dove inside, curling into the corner as he tried to control his breathing. The door softly opened again, and Peter sat down next to Tim.
“Are you okay if I touch you?” Tim nodded and Peter pulled him onto his lap, holding him close and stroking his hair as Tim cried.
“I’m sorry,” Tim mumbled pathetically. “Today was going so well, wasn’t it? I just had to ruin it, didn’t I?”
“What are you talking about? Tim, you didn’t ruin anything, it’s okay.”
“We finally got Jason over, you finally got Jason over, to spend Christmas with us, and I ruined it.”
Peter pressed a kiss into the top of Tim’s skull, shaking his head. “You didn’t ruin anything. You’re not a burden. These things happen, it’s okay.”
“I’m happy you didn’t have to see that Jason.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t have to see him the way I did, instead you get to see him the way I wish I could have— a cool older brother who cares about you. I used to imagine that if we ever met he would have liked me, maybe even cared about me the way he does you, you know? I kept thinking that, even after he died. Then he came to the tower, showing me that he wasn’t dead, far from it, and that he hated everything about me.”
“He doesn’t anymore; I don’t think he did then either.”
Tim snorted derisively. “Oh, does he not?”
Peter sighed gently, holding Tim a little tighter. “No, he doesn’t. He’s just scared of saying otherwise now.”
“Really?”
“Really. He wants to get to know you, he’s just scared of messing up again.”
“How could he mess up? He’s not the one who had a breakdown in the middle of a snowball fight, he’s not the one who stalked his way into being Robin, who was able to see a side of Bruce that I never got. He’s Jason Todd, the one who took Dick’s legacy and made it something better. I’m just the lonely little rich kid who stalked Batman.”
“Is anything I say going to help you right now?” Peter’s voice was soft, concerned, all the things that Tim loved about him, all the things Tim could never live up to and didn’t deserve.
“Probably not,” Tim admitted. “Just… hold me?”
“Okay.”
Dick watched Peter sprint after his boyfriend, sighing as he got to his feet and dusted snow off his snow pants. He turned to Jason, concerned. Jason was frozen, staring at the spot where Tim had been just a moment before. Dick approached hesitantly, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”
Jason sighed roughly, clearing his throat and shaking his head. “I should have never come,” he grunted, his voice thick with unshed tears.
“Jason, I’m happy you’re here,” Dick said firmly. “So is Alfred, so is Damian, so is everybody.”
“Not Tim,” Jason mumbled.
“Yes Tim,” Dick argued. “You make Peter happy and if you make Peter happy, you make Tim happy. Leaving isn’t the way to make this right, avoiding Tim like you have been isn’t the way to make this right. You want to do better? Start by apologizing to him. Maybe not right now, but today. You didn’t hear Tim talking to Peter earlier— I did.”
Jason finally met Dick’s eyes. “What?”
“He thanked Peter for bringing you. Sure, he did it in a self-deprecating depressing way, but he did it nonetheless. You are wanted here, and if you leave I will drag you back by your ear. Unless you don’t want to be here. But I think you do.”
Alfred took Jason’s hands in his own, staring at his grandson intently. “Master Dick is right, Master Jason. I know it is selfish of me to ask, but I want you here.”
“Thanks, Alfred.”
“Of course.”
Jason took a deep breath and knocked on the door. After a moment of whispering, it opened slightly, revealing Peter.
“Good. You two have needed to have this talk for a while now,” the brunette said. “Tim, you think you can handle this right now?”
“Handle what?” The door opened wider, and steel blue eyes blinked up at Jason. “Yeah, sure, I can do this.”
Jason reared back a little, surprised. “Really? I just wanted to see if you were okay, we don’t have to do this now.”
Tim sighed. “If we don’t do it now, we never will. Come on. Peter can mediate.”
The door fully opened and Jason hesitantly stepped in, closing the door behind him. Tim was sitting on the bed, and Peter had already chosen a spot on the floor, waving Jason over to Tim’s desk chair, which had been positioned across from Tim. Jason sat down and stared at his hands for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what happened. I’m sorry for what I did. I know that there’s nothing that I can say that will make it better, I just… I’m sorry.”
Tim nodded slowly. “Thank you. I forgive you. I’m not going to be over it immediately, but I do want you around. You’re Jason Todd; I looked up to you, you know.”
“I know. I’d like to start over, if that’s possible. Or something like that.”
“A clean slate?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I think I can do that.”
“Thank you.”