Don't Fear the Reaper

30) Tim is Also Baby Girl

Tim was sitting in the kitchen, the clock just hitting 4 in the morning, when he heard the sound of a snap from the door way. His eyes immediately darted over, seeing Nico stand there, his face mostly blank but something akin to nervous tinting his eyes.

"Hey Reaper," Tim said, taking a sip from his coffee mug as he turned off the tablet he had been staring at for the last however many hours. "I thought you were in Damian's room."

Nico hesitated before signing, "he is safe enough while he sleeps."

Tim nodded, consciously keeping his face relaxed, not letting his surprise at both Nico communicating with him and leaving Damian alone show on his face. "If you ever want some alone time, all of us are willing to take a shift with staying with him. Damian can protect himself fine, but I knew you like to stay close."

Nico just nodded once. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't move.

"Anything I can help with?" Tim asked, honestly intrigued now.

Nico hesitantly reached into his pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope. "Can you address this for me?"

Tim smiled lightly, happy he was willing to ask for help. "Yeah, of course. What's the address."

"Delphi Farms, Farm Road 3.141, Long Island, New York 11954," Nico said, his voice sounding like he just gargled brokenglass for a week straight, but it struck Tim silent to hear it again.

Tim quickly wrote down the address in the center of the letter, trying to not let his shock show. "Who's it to?"

"C. Brunner," Nico spoke again, before switching back to sign. "He is an old friend."

Tim nodded, not wanting to push any further and cause Nico to close off even more... but then the silence felt awkward and he couldn't stop himself from filling it. "I never would have taken you for a Long Islander— though I guess there are a lot of Italians there so maybe it's nice to be around the culture. Then again, New York Italians are pretty different from, like, Italy  Italians, so maybe not."

Tim expected no response, because what are you even supposed to say after hearing an anxiety driven statement about New York Italians?

"I lived in New York for a while," Nico signed. His eyes didn't meet Tim's, but one of his hands subconsciously reached up and ghosted over the leather cord that always hung around his neck. The second his fingers made contact, they withdrew, as if the touch burned him. "It didn't last long."

"I've only ever really lived in Gotham," Tim said, shifting the topic since Nico didn't seem to want to linger on New York. "I briefly left for a little while after Bruce lost his memories— it was a whole thing— but I came back not too long after so I don't really count it as moving away."

"I have lived in maybe places," Nico signed, his guard slipping slightly. "None of them were home, but I didn't hate all of them."

Tim nodded in understanding. "Home is a hard thing to find."

There was silence for a long moment, Tim forcing himself not to fill it. He expected Nico to just leave, but instead the teen signed again.

"Why are you awake?" Nico asked. "I expected to wait for Pennyworth to wake up and ask him."

Tim mentally filed away the information that Nico might have been speaking with Alfred the entire time he had been giving them the silent treatment, but now was not the time to bring that up. "I'm working on an old cold case. It was from about a year ago— a murder."