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The rain hammered against the windows of Wayne Manor as Dick Grayson padded down the hallway in his pajamas, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in hand. It was past midnight, but sleep had been elusive. The storm outside seemed to echo the restlessness in his chest.
As he passed Jason's room, he noticed a sliver of light beneath the door. Dick paused, listening. The soft sound of pages turning drifted through the wood.
He knocked gently. "Jay? You awake?"
A pause. Then, "Yeah. Come in."
Dick pushed open the door to find Jason sitting cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by books. His dark hair was mussed, and he wore an oversized Gotham University sweatshirt that had definitely seen better days.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Dick asked, settling on the edge of the bed.
Jason shrugged, closing the worn copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands. "Storm's too loud."
Dick noticed the small stack of Jane Austen novels on the nightstand. "I didn't know you were into classics."
"There's a lot you don't know about me," Jason said, but there was no bite to it. Just tired honesty.
Dick sipped his hot chocolate, studying his younger brother. They'd been dancing around each other for months now, ever since Jason had come back to the family. Both of them trying to figure out where they fit in each other's lives.
"Want some?" Dick offered, holding out the mug.
Jason accepted it gratefully, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic. "Thanks." He took a sip and made a face. "God, this is sweet. Did you put the entire bag of marshmallows in here?"
"Only half," Dick grinned. "Alfred's recipe."
"Alfred's recipe is diabetes in a cup," Jason muttered, but he took another sip anyway.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the rain. Dick's eyes wandered over the books scattered across Jason's bed.
"So... Austen, huh?"
Jason's cheeks flushed slightly. "Don't."
"I'm not making fun," Dick said quickly. "I'm genuinely curious. I always figured you for more of a... I don't know, Stephen King kind of guy."
"I like horror too," Jason admitted. "But sometimes..." He trailed off, fidgeting with the book's cover. "Sometimes I need something where people actually get happy endings, you know?"
The vulnerability in Jason's voice made Dick's chest tighten. "Yeah. I get that."
Jason looked up at him, surprise flickering across his features. "Do you?"
Dick nodded. "After everything we've been through, everything we've seen on patrol... sometimes I just want to watch movies where the dog doesn't die and the couple gets together."
"You watch rom-coms?" Jason asked, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.
"Guilty as charged. Last week I watched The Princess Bride three times."
Jason snorted. "That's not a rom-com, that's a classic."
"See? You get it."
For the first time in months, Jason smiled at him. Really smiled. "Inconceivable," he said in a terrible accent.
Dick laughed. "Your Vizzini needs work."
"Shut up, circus boy."
The familiar nickname should have stung, but the way Jason said it – fond rather than mocking – made warmth spread through Dick's chest instead.
"You know," Dick said carefully, "if you ever want company for your midnight reading sessions, I'm usually up anyway."
Jason studied him for a long moment. "You'd want to do that?"
"Yeah. I would."
"Even if it's Jane Austen?"
"Especially if it's Jane Austen. I haven't read Pride and Prejudice since high school."
Jason's smile widened. "Prepare to have your mind blown. Lizzie Bennet is basically the original badass female protagonist."
"I'm intrigued."
Jason scooted over, making room on the bed. "Come on then. But you're stuck here until the storm passes. This is a commitment."
Dick kicked off his slippers and settled beside Jason, pulling one of the throw blankets over both of them. "I can live with that."
As Jason opened the book and began to read aloud, his voice soft and careful over Austen's words, Dick felt something he hadn't experienced in years: the simple pleasure of being someone's brother. Not Nightwing and Red Hood, not the first Robin and the second, just Dick and Jason, sharing stories and hot chocolate while the storm raged outside.
When Jason's voice started to grow hoarse an hour later, Dick took over, reading about Elizabeth Bennet's wit and Mr. Darcy's pride. Jason's eyes grew heavy, but he fought to stay awake, clearly not wanting the moment to end.
"Hey," Dick said softly, bookmarking their place. "We can finish this tomorrow night. If you want."
Jason nodded sleepily. "Yeah. I'd like that."
"Good." Dick started to get up, but Jason's hand caught his wrist.
"Dick?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For... this. For not making it weird."
Dick squeezed Jason's shoulder gently. "Thanks for letting me in."
As Dick headed for the door, Jason called out one more time. "Dick?"
"Mm?"
"Next time, bring more hot chocolate. And maybe some of Alfred's cookies."
Dick grinned. "Deal."
The storm was still raging when Dick returned to his room, but somehow the restlessness in his chest had quieted. They had a long way to go, he and Jason, but tonight felt like a beginning. A real one.
And tomorrow night, they'd find out what happened when Elizabeth Bennet met Mr. Darcy at the Netherfield ball.
Dick fell asleep smiling, the sound of rain no longer keeping him awake, but lulling him into dreams of second chances and the quiet joy of brotherhood rediscovered.
