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The first time it happened, Tim didn't think anything of it. He'd been knew to the manor and while Dick had been used to another body in the place, Tim knew he wouldn't be used to him specifically. It's why he didn't react when he heard Dick calling for someone. Someone that didn't have his name.
"Jason!" Tim shouted. "Alfred made dinner! Get your sorry ass down here before I eat it all." Tim frowned at the sound of a name that didn't belong to him, but he clambered down from where he'd been and made his way to the kitchen.
"What'd Alfred make?" Tim asked. He didn't miss the way Dick's smile faltered for a moment when he saw Tim. When he realized his mistake and, for just a moment, though he'd been looking at his dead brother.
"Good ol' breakfast for dinner," Dick said, a slight waver in his voice. If Tim hadn't been paying attention, he wouldn't have noticed. Tim grinned, ignoring the slight pang in his chest, and sat at the too-big table.
"Great!" Tim said. "I'm starved." Dick joined him after a moment of hesitation. They ate in silence that night.
The next time it happened, they were playing videos games. Dick had stopped spending so much time at the manor, focusing more on Blüdhaven. Tim liked having Dick around more. The manor always felt smaller when Dick was around. Not as empty. Still, he didn't enjoy getting his ass kicked in Mario-Kart by his older brother. He groaned and fell back against his bed as he came in second for the third time.
"Really?" Tim complained. He huffed at the ceiling with Dick laughed. He gave Tim's shoulder a slap and fell next to him.
"Well, Jason, it just takes a lot of practice," he said. Tim couldn't stop the way his face screwed up at the mistake. Though he tried his best to school it before Dick saw. A glance to his left had that thought disappearing. Guilt had found it's way on Dick's face and Tim shrugged.
"I get it," he said. Although, he didn't. Not really. Not entirely.
"Sorry," Dick said. And they started another race.
Tim expected the third time. It had been clear that Dick wasn't entirely in the present while Bruce and Alfred helped patch him up in the Batcave. He watched from the computer, leaning against the desk, sick with worry. Still, he knew when Dick would look at him, he wouldn't be seeing Tim. So, when Dick finally opened his eyes to a squint and looked towards Tim, he braced himself.
"Jace?" Dick asked. His voice had gone unbearably delicate. Tim swallowed and looked to Bruce and Alfred for guidance. Both the men were staring at him with wide eyes like they didn't know how to react either. So Tim squared his shoulders. He walked up to the stretcher Bruce had dumped Dick into.
"You changed your costume," Dick slurred. Tim nodded.
"Yeah," Tim said, "Legs kept getting cold." Dick snorted at that. Bruce and Alfred went back to work, bandaging Dick up. Tim stayed by his side, falling into conversation with Dick as a dead brother.
Dick apologized for it when he became lucid.
It had been months without Dick calling him Jason. Then, they're on patrol together. Dick had invited Tim out to Blüdhaven for some brotherly bonding. Bruce had told Tim to be home before midnight, since it was technically a week night. Even though Tim had finished all his homework and even the essay due in a month.
And patrol had gone well up until they'd managed to get a hold of a mafia boss that had wandered into Dick's territory. Technically, the guy was from a couple of states over. Tim and Dick had left him alone for a bit to discuss what to do with him. It had devolved into a argument pretty fast. They were shouting over each other, Tim had already forgotten his original point. Then;
"We're not doing this again, Jason!" Dick shouted. Tim froze. He stared up at Dick whose face had contorted into regret in an instant.
"I'm not him," Tim hissed.
"I—I know," Dick said, "I'm sorry I didn't mean—" Tim didn't stick around for any of his excuses. He also ignored the slew of texts that followed that night.
It blew over a week later when Dick showed up with a bag full of new Wii games on his arm and Tim's favorite dessert on the other.
The fifth time it happened, Dick had resigned himself to the fact it would be something he just had to live with. He managed to shrug it off. It was so similar to the first time, Tim almost didn't catch it. Dick had decided to spend the weekend in the manor. So, when Tim heard Dick calling for him, he moved on instinct.
It wasn't until he got to the top fo the grand staircase he realized he'd responded to Jason's name. He froze there, staring down at Dick who was staring up at him with a grin. Like he also hadn't realized the mistake. Tim just grinned down at his brother and raced down the stairs to greet him.
If the hug, tight as ever, felt a little cold, Tim didn't tell anyone.
"I don't get it!" Tim complained while Alfred bandaged the road rash that covered the left side of his ribs. He winced at the antiseptic Alfred wiped across the blood.
"I mean," Tim struggled to find the right words for a moment, "I understand. I understand why he slips up sometimes, but I never even knew the guy! Me and Jason never even breathed the same air." Alfred listened, like always. A part of Tim knew he was making the man listen to him complain about being called a name Alfred held dear to his heart. A name Alfred probably yearned to hear echoing in the halls again and have the right voice answer. But, Alfred listened anyway.
"Perhaps, Master Tim," Alfred said, "You should ask him."
"Fat chance," Tim said. He poked at the road rash and Alfred swatted his hand away. The only reason Tim had started complaining was because once he'd fallen off the roof, Dick had screamed for Jason. Not for Tim. Not the brother still alive, but the one they would never see again. The brother Tim would never meet.
"I just…" Tim trailed off. He'd never even voiced that thought to himself. He didn't have it written down anywhere, just in the valleys of his mind with neurons connected so strongly, Tim was sure they glowed.
"Just what, Master Tim?" Alfred asked. "I promise not to tell." Tim knew Alfred was good for it. So, he sucked in a breath, and in admitted the thing he hated he thought.
"I think every time he wished he was looking at Jason instead of me." Tim said. "That I'm just the cheap replacement that'll never live up to Jason's name." Alfred paused at the confession. He stayed quiet for a long time. Long enough that Tim's injury was fully bandaged before he spoke.
"Dick and Jason were never all that close," Alfred said. Tim didn't miss the way he'd dropped the honorific. "The two boys never lived together in the manor. And unlike now, Dick almost never visited home. Still, one could see they cared for each other. They were truly brothers." Alfred helped Tim stand and the two walked to the exit together. Tim rolled over what Alfred said. He'd already known everything Alfred told him.
"Master Dick does not see you as a replacement." Alfred said. "None of us do. He simply sees you as his brother." Tim blinked up at Alfred. He'd understood, on the base level, that him and Dick were brothers. He'd felt that bond between them, but it always felt like one push the wrong way, and the bond would snap.
Tim stared at his feet as they walked into the manor.
"Thanks, Alfred," Tim said, voice quiet.
"Of course, Master Tim," Alfred said, "Have a good night." They parted ways and when Tim crawled into bed, he sent Dick a text.
Tim - 23:53
Love ya bro
Dickwad - 23:54
Love you too?
Do i need to be worried?
Tim - 23:54
Nah
Just thought you should know
Tim laughed at the thumbs up Dick sent back. He fell a sleep a little easier that night.