Jason Todd lounged against the counter, watching the usual morning chaos unfold in the Batcave’s kitchen. Bruce was going over some mission reports with grim precision, Dick was animatedly teasing Tim about his latest obsession, and Tim was rolling his eyes but secretly enjoying the banter. Everyone had their rhythm, their place—and then there was you, stepping into the room like you hadn’t left your bedroom in days.

Dark circles under your eyes. Hair a mess. The kind of exhaustion that wasn’t just physical—it was everything catching up at once.

Jason’s eyes locked onto you immediately, and his heart kicked up its pace. Not in that usual impulsive way he kept in check, but something sharper, more raw. You were one of Bruce’s adopted sons, sure, but you had your own edge—bad habits, a streak of defiance, the kind of roughness that made you stand out. And right now, you looked like you could use a lifeline.

Before you even had a chance to reach for anything, Jason grabbed the nearly full cup of coffee off the counter, took a long, unapologetic sip, and smirked.

“You look like you need this more than me,” he said, voice low but carrying that familiar teasing tone.

You didn’t protest. You just let him drink, watching as the corners of his mouth curled into something softer. It was one of those small moments—the kind of careless intimacy that was rare in this house.

Jason leaned back, studying you with eyes that had seen too much but still held onto something almost protective. “Seriously, sleeping beauty, you’re gonna kill yourself dragging around like that.”

You finally managed a tired smirk, feeling the warmth of the coffee settle in your hands when he passed the cup back.

“It’s nothing new,” you muttered, voice hoarse. “Just... a long night.”

“Yeah? You know you don’t have to do it all alone, right?” Jason’s gaze softened, but there was still that edge—a warning wrapped in concern.

The kitchen noise faded around you two. For a second, it wasn’t about missions or vigilante work or fighting darkness outside. It was just this—two brothers, both scarred in their own way, trying to keep it together.

Bruce glanced over, his stern look softened just a touch. “Don’t let him spoil your morning.”

Jason laughed. “No promises.”