Chapter Thirty-Nine

Percy's mom made us pancakes- blue, of course- and once we were all fed, she walked us down to where a silver Volvo was parked across the street- parallel parked. On a road with a sign that said angle parking only. There was a ticket tucked into the windshield, and Jason groaned loudly at it. "You try and see the sign when it's pitch black and three o'clock in the morning, fucker!" He snatched it angrily from under the wiper and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Won't Bruce just pay for it?" I asked Dick. The guy was loaded, didn't seem like it would be much of a problem to groan about.

"Nah, Bruce makes us pay for our own tickets and stuff. He says it teaches us responsibility. In Jason's case, he'll just beat the cash out of some crook and it won't cost him anything but some bruised knuckles." Despite the topic, Dick's words were warm with fondness.

Jason was banned from driving back- apparently the ride here hadn't exactly been smooth, but no one had complained because they were all worried about us. Dick took the wheel on the way back, and Tim called shotgun, which no one was about to deny him after the whole death ordeal. That left Jason, Damian and I to squeeze into the three seats in the back. Realistically, as the narrowest, Damian should have sat in the smaller middle seat, but he and Jason weren't allowed to sit next to each other after the one time Jason wouldn't stop poking Damian, so the younger had stabbed him in the hand, a story I had not had the joy to witness.

So I had to take the middle seat, Jason on my left and Damian on the right. The drive back was long, but not too bad- it would definitely be longer without Jason driving, I was told. I had shadow-travelled here, so I didn't know how long the journey was. I honestly didn't really care, either. However long it could have taken, I would've done anything to be able to bring Tim back where he belonged.

Maybe I was getting the hang of this whole family thing.

-

They weren't even halfway home yet when Jason suddenly kicked the back of Dick's seat and told him to shut up and turn his music down. Dick didn't think much at first, no one else really liked his taste in music, but when- a second later- Damian also pitched in, he listened, turning Lady Gaga's angelic voice down until it was just background noise. Worried, he glanced in the rearview mirror.

Nico had fallen asleep, his head lolling onto Jason's shoulder, hands resting limply in his lap. Dick smiled. Jason was holding as still as a statue, looking down at Nico with an expression caught between exasperation and mild concern. "I don't think he really slept last night. I woke up a few times and he was always just sitting by the window, watching."

"He did that before you guys came over, too. I had only just convinced him to come get some sleep. He said something about how New York doesn't hold a lot of good memories for him."

"I don't think he ever sleeps well," Damian added. He told them the story about the night he and Nico had their Star Wars marathon.

"You think he has PTSD?" Dick asked.

"Doesn't it make sense? The nightmares, the insomnia, his aversion to physical contact, jumpiness, the scars–"

"Scars?" Tim asked. "What scars?" There was a moment of silence in the car, and it dawned on the rest of the brothers that Tim had spent enough time avoiding Nico that he'd never seen the scars that covered him, most notably his knuckles, and the amount of fights he must've gotten into to have that many...God, his hands were worse than Jason's, and that was saying something.

That was only his hands, too. The other three had seen Nico when he was injured, had helped bandage wounds, they had seen the extensive battle wounds that littered his torso and arms, and that was to say nothing of his legs. Some were covered by the tattoos he had, but just as many were layered over the ink, creating a picture that none of them were sure they wanted to see. Sure, they knew he'd seen some stuff and been through some stuff, things he'd mentioned in passing, or alluded to, but they had never really asked. He'd only ever given a very brief glimpse of what his life before had been like, and as dangerous as it had sounded, they all knew there was much more he had left out.

And none of them wanted to explain that to poor Tim, who'd been through enough lately. They all had been through enough lately, so all Dick did was sigh lightly and mutter that he'd explain later, that they should be quiet and let Nico sleep for as long as he could, which turned out to be the entire rest of the ride back to the manor.

It was the first time for as long as any of them could remember that they'd all been silent through a car ride.

-

Bruce was pacing. Very nervously. It was a testament to how worried Alfred must have also been that the man didn't try to stop Bruce's unceasing movement, just letting him walk up and down the length of the manor garage. Every couple minutes, Bruce would check his watch, and say something along the lines of "has it been too long? I feel like they should be back by now, do you think something happened?"

To which Alfred would reply with something like "I'm sure it's alright" and even once "your sons have faced down some of the world's most vicious villains, I'm sure they can handle a road trip." And then Bruce would pace a bit more, look down at his watch, and the cycle would repeat itself, until the two men finally heard the crunch of the car's tires on the gravel driveway.

It was a very tearful reunion. As soon as Tim exited the car, Bruce had encased him in a hug, only letting go so Alfred could give him a brief hug as well. The rest of his sons exited the vehicle, all looking equally as happy as Bruce felt. Nico looked a bit tired, but he smiled sleepily at Bruce all the same, and was shocked a moment later to find himself also suddenly trapped in a tight hug.

He awkwardly reached up and patted Bruce on the back a little. "Thank you," Bruce whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He let go suddenly, remembering what had happened the last time Nico had used his powers. He gripped the boy's shoulders gently, looking him up and down. He seemed fine, but all of Bruce's kids had a knack for hiding injuries. "Are you alright? You're not...disappearing, again, are you?"

Nico laughed gently. "No. Whatever my father's blessing did, it made it all...easier, I guess. Not as taxing. Although I am still a little tired." Was Bruce jealous that Nico continued to refer to the God that had done a shitty job at raising him as 'father' when Bruce was the one trying to find a way to adopt a boy with no existing records for this time period? No, definitely not. 

"You should rest," Bruce said immediately. "We all should. I still have the rest of the week off of work. We should all stay here, and just take some time." Everyone agreed, Tim most vehemently, and they all filed back into the manor to shower and change.

They were all gathered in the master bedroom- Bruce's room- after dinner, bowls of popcorn and various types of candy spread around as everyone (even Alfred, although he elected to move an armchair in instead) were strewn around the bed. Bruce had a huge bed, easily fitting all six of them comfortably, along with an assortment of the comfiest pillows and blankets from all around the manor.

Tim and Nico had recounted the story of Tim's death and subsequent revival from the moment Nico left for New York until the rest of the Wayne boys arrived at Sally's house. Bruce would have to remember to send her something as a thank you. After the story and all the follow-up questions were finished, they had decided to have an Ice Age marathon, which turned into a fun game of matching the characters to each person present.

Dick got to be Sid the sloth, which was endlessly funny until they all decided to name Jason as Buck Wild, which he was not happy about. Eventually, it got late and Alfred bid them all a goodnight. Nico was the first one asleep, followed closely by Dick and then Jason. Bruce had thought everyone was sleeping, so he reached over and turned the lamp off, setting the tv screensaver to some underwater scene that looked calming. He'd just pulled his own blanket up, prepared to sleep himself, when Tim spoke up, whispering into the silence.

"Bruce?"

"What's up bud?" Bruce could faintly see Tim in the blue-ish light from the tv, curled up near the foot of the bed, next to Jason. He watched as Tim sat up carefully, pulling his blanket around his shoulders and looking at Nico, who was sound asleep on the other side of Jason.

"Damian mentioned something on the ride back, about he thinks Nico might have PTSD, and he said something about his scars. Dick said he would explain it later, but I think he's been avoiding me." Bruce looked at Dick, who was sleeping to Bruce's left, about as far away from Tim as he could get, and sighed. He moved the empty snack bowls to his right off the bed and patted the vacated space. With some acquired finesse, Tim made his way over without waking anyone up, sitting and leaning against Bruce's side. Bruce wrapped an arm around him.

"Nico...has been through a lot. It's not our place to ask, really, and he's told us some of it, but..." Bruce sighed again. "He's been through a lot more than any of us, Tim. He's suffered, and he has the marks to prove it. We can't make him tell us what happened, but we can hope that one day, he'll want to tell us. And we can be grateful that he made it through everything to get here with us."

Tim nodded. "I guess." They both watched Nico grunt and roll over in his sleep before settling down again, curled into Jason's side, who unconsciously draped his arm around Nico. "I just can't help worrying about him sometimes. He always seems like he has all these battles he thinks he has to fight alone, like he's protecting everyone by isolating himself. I know it'll take time, but I wish he knew he didn't have to be alone anymore."

Bruce rubbed his hand along Tim's shoulder. "I know. Me too, Timbo. Me too." 

sup yall. swimming lesson week numbero uno has begun for me, day one of five was today and oh my lordy lord. I am heavily reminded of why I dont want kids. 

BUT ANYGAYS this was a bit of a filler chapter but oh well at least i finished it haha...... 

ROUND TWO! Put a finger down if you can do one thing from your very long to-do list of things that will all take a very short amount of time, consider the day a success, and as a reward, spend the next 12 hours doing nothing. 

Fun fact! Koalas have a pouch for their young, like kangaroos do.