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    Summary

    He opens his eyes, and stares up at the canopy of the four poster bed he's in. It takes a second, his vision is a bit blurry, but it clears up quick enough.

    Two seconds.

    Three seconds.

    Four seconds.

    Part of Jason keeps the count going, while the rest of him kind of just...seizes. Because he knows this canopy. He knows the the posts it's attached to. He—fuck—he knows the notch in the bottom left post he'd put in it when he'd stolen one of Bruce's batarangs when he was twelve and thrown it around like the stupid kid he'd been.

    This was Jason's room.

    Or, the one where Jason get's zapped with magic, wakes up in his teenage body, and decides to let the timeline know exactly how fucked it is. He also becomes the president of the Tim Drake Appreciation Club.

    Shelves: DC Comics

    Site:
    archiveofourown.org
    Words:
    80,628
    Status:
    Completed