Jason had gotten a call from Dick moments ago and was already speeding towards the scene. It had been three years since he rejoined their little family and it was still strange being on speaking terms with people he tried to murder. It had been three years since the tragedy.

"The tragedy" He repeated, quoting the others. Even after all the time that's passed since then no one liked talking about it. It was referred to with gestures and pained looks or other dodgy words. He hasn't seen Tim since the arrest.

The teen used to send him cards on his birthday and holidays, but that petered off when Jason never responded. Instead the cards would go into a little box or into the trash without ever being opened. He didn't want to know. It wasn't out of denial, repression, or anything like that, he had simply moved on with his life and wanted to put the past behind him.

The drive took longer than it needed to because of malfunctioning traffic lights. The city board of directors had been planning a massive renovation of the city's electrical system for months. Gotham's wires and other junk hadn't been updated since WW1 and needed it desperately. Luckily thanks to a few fundraisers and a sizable donation from the lesser Wayne corps foundations they could get to work immediately.

The process started a few weeks ago and they've been having periodic blackouts ever since. Not large ones, mind you, they lasted less than ten minutes but it was still enough to annoy the citizens and the occasional masked vigilante.

By the time the Red Hood got there, the cops were already hauling some poor fuck into the back of a squad car. Nightwing was on a roof waiting for him to show up. "Why'd you call me if you had everything covered?" Jason yelled up to man in blue pajamas.

Dick looked far too serious and motioned for them to talk in private. The roof was a little cooler than the street, then again it's summer and they're wearing Kevlar. Dick crossed his arms over his chest, looking sympathetic "Have you decided what you're going to do this Saturday?"

Jason was confused. Saturday? He questioned, trying to think of anything going on that day. There was a Raiders game, he mused, but he didn't give a fuck about sports.

"I was thinking of doing something in the beer-and-pizza family, maybe get some strippers later. Why do you ask?" He responded, leaning far too casually on a nearby pipe. He was more apt to be a smartass than admit he didn't know.

His older brother frowned obviously bothered by jokes at a time like this. Even Jason was getting a little nervous at this point. For someone usually so cheerful to be so upset, it had to be something awful. He went through a mental list of people that might have died. The younger of the two didn't want to lose his family again.

Dick sighed deeply before explaining without even a hint of a smile "Tim's getting out of Greenvale in a few days and we're going to have a welcome-home dinner. His therapist mentioned it would help him get some closure if you attended."

Jason pulled away like the mere questioned burned and his eyes narrowed in anger "Oh hell no, if you think I'm going to spend a minute next to him after everything-!"

His brother stopped him before he could finish and held onto his arm so he couldn't leave. Blue eyes softened behind the mask as he tried to be as calming as possible. "It was an uphill struggle for everyone, and he's paid his debt to society. The doctors say he's cured now." He said soothingly.

Jason yanked his arm free and growled, "So do the ones at Arkham and look how well that turns out."

Nightwing shook his head, saying "Greenvale is nothing like Arkham, they actually try to help people." His younger brother turned to leave and Dick took his hand. "I'm not going to force you to go if you're serious, but I think might help both of you."

They looked at each other for a moment, waiting and thinking. Dick still had Jason's hand between his own. Smooth lycra shone against rough leather gloves. "…Fine, I'll go. But I'm leaving after dessert." Nightwing smiled brightly and pulled him in for a tight hug.

Jason didn't hug back and just stood there like a child resigned to his fate. Trying to fight the affectionate former Robin's hugs was like trying to stop the sun from rising. Resistance was futile. "There better be pie." He fumed a little and tried to squirm out of his grip. "Now stop that before I get your cooties"

Nightwing let go, unhurt by his words. He knew how nice Jason was deep-down, even if he didn't like to show it.

…

Saturday came by very quickly and Alfred was sent out to pick him up at the bus-stop. The elderly man carried the lone suitcase and Tim's crutches clicked as he walked. His crawled with emotions as he walked through the doors of what was once his home. Disappointment and guilt ate away at him from the inside.

Alfred was kind, but wary. He limited conversation to the teen's schooling was glad to hear that he was doing well at college, he even had an internship at STAR Labs crunching numbers.

Dick was there to greet him at the door and was the warmest to him. His youngest brother had returned, hopefully safe and whole. He led Tim through the house and filled him in on family news. Conversation was kept light to avoid anything 'triggering'. The teen spared a glance to see him by the fireplace.

What words do you use to describe someone that held your soul in the palm of his hand? He leaned there at the corner of his eye with his back to the wallpaper. Tim felt weak and naked when Jason looked at him, flinching under the scrutiny. There was a small pain in his chest that he didn't think would ever go away. He was like a recovered alcoholic, the need was still there but he learned how to control it.

This was an inevitable confrontation and neither wanted to make the first move. Jason poured himself a stiff drink knowing that this was going to be a long night.

The meal was wonderful, as Alfred's cooking usually is. Jason finally got his beloved apple pie and noticed that the teen's suitcase was still in the hall. "You're not staying?" He asked, watching the teen tense at being spoken to.

"There's no way I could live here after what happened. I have my own place on the other side of town." Tim said quickly like he had grown unaccustomed to talking. The teen seemed even smaller and weaker than before. He was still just a boy in Jason's eyes, despite the fact he was now nineteen.

The teen shifted in his seat and glanced over at the others. They were closest to alone they could get, and he was afraid of what might happen. Three years went by with nothing; not a visit, letter, or even a phone-call.

Now that he was within arm's reach, Tim was a little drunk on memories. "Jason…We never really had the chance to talk after what happened." The boy has never been one to shout, but his voice was barely above a whisper. "It's something I'll regret for the rest of my life."

The older man didn't know what to say to that. Wounds he assumed were healed began to ebb open. "You…You seem to be doing well. Going to school and getting good grades, you're a science major right?"

Before the boy could reply, Dick Grayson sat down between them and started talking about something. Tim frowned at being interrupted, and Jason took it as a blessing in disguise.

…

Tim was smart enough to fake his way out of anything and the Red Hood spent the next week doing surveillance. He watched the teen's every move and was bored out of his mind watching a depressed college student. The boy didn't do anything. Tim went to school, did homework, went to work, did that, and then went to bed.

Not once did Jason see him smile. The boy didn't have friends and didn't talk to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. He was sane but unhappy.

Jason couldn't find any cameras or surveillance gear anywhere in the dinky apartment. The teen's cell-phone was such an old model that it couldn't even take pictures. It was a far cry from the toys the technophile used to have.

Tim lies awake on his bed and stared at the ceiling, unmoving and overmedicated. For reasons the older man could only guess, the teen started to cry.

Jason couldn't stand to hear the choked sobs and decided the boy was better left alone. He didn't return to watch him anymore.

…

Class ran late the next day and Tim missed the bus. Walking home was difficult if you couldn't, well…walk. His knee didn't hurt too much anymore and healed as well as it could, given the circumstances. It was getting late and the teen didn't like how this one group kept looking at him.

If he was still Robin, he could have taken these guys in an instant. Now he couldn't do much else than hope nothing happened.

It didn't take long for him to get knocked down and thrown into the back of a van.