Chapter Text
Twenty minutes… Jason‘s been gone for twenty minutes so far. And they’ve been the longest twenty minutes of his life.
It’s hard enough to deal with one of these situations when he wasn’t in a hurry and immensely distracted, let alone right now.
But luckily, Gotham citizens know how to effectively stay out of the way during a fight. And now that the intruders have left it’s time for the hard part: getting the guests to leave.
It made it easy when Alfred was there to direct them, unfortunately Alfred isn’t here right now. However, Jason was the only one of them that was able to suit up, which was a pain in the ass when he was fighting, but is proving to be beneficial now.
It’s easier to corral the guests when Bruce and a good portion of his kids are able to escort them out.
“Red Hood.” It’s odd for Bruce to address him like that when he wasn’t in the suit. “Thank you for your help.”
Jason looks around, most of the guests have left by now, but the few stragglers are watching the interaction curiously.
Jason takes Bruce’s hand. He knows it’s for appearance sake, but this interaction still feels very weird. “Of course.”
Cass comes in and ushers the remaining guests away. Once the door closes Bruce’s entire demeanor changes, “where are the boys?” Jason notes just how tight his voice sounds.
“The Cave,” Jason pulls his helmet off, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Are they alright? How are Damian and Tim?”
Jason tries not to react to the fact that Bruce didn’t ask about Dick. For the most part, Dick can handle himself pretty well, so it would make sense that he wouldn’t be the first one Bruce thought of. It still bothered him though. “Fine, Tim got shot but he’ll be ok.”
Bruce nods, seemingly more relaxed than he was a moment ago.
“Dickie’s pretty roughed up though, if you even care.” Jason doesn’t even bother to hide his annoyance.
Bruce tenses again, a frown on his face. “What happened?”
Jason explains all of it, from finding Dick drugged on the bathroom floor all the way up to getting him to the Bat Cave.
Bruce doesn’t say anything before walking away from Jason.
Jason follows behind. The atmosphere is tense, and Bruce walks with purpose, something he rarely does in the comfort of his own home.
Sometimes, Jason has a hard time figuring Bruce out. Jason thinks Bruce might have a hard time with that himself. Bruce is a lot of things, a businessman, a millionaire, a father, The Batman, and Jason thinks that he has a hard time finding a balance between them all. It’s that exact reason that Jason sometimes doesn’t know how the man will react.
It’s that exact reason that Jason is baffled when Bruce kneels at Dick’s bedside and grabs his hand.
Jason moves into the room, opting to stand in the corner. Dick looks worse than when he’d left. He’s as white as a sheet, and Jason can see the way his body shivers uncontrollably even from all the way across the room.
Jason can’t tear his eyes away from him. His brother looks like death, like something akin to his mother when she laid there in her room the last day Jason ever saw her.
Jason watches Bruce card his hand through Dick’s hair. Jason watches the interaction with mild fascination, it wasn’t often that Bruce was so openly affectionate towards them.
Dick’s eyebrows pinch together before his eyes open I little slits, and -oh god- Jason doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to see his big brother awake.
“Dad?” Dick’s voice is rough, and Jason winces at just how painful it sounds.
Bruce must hear it too because he shushes Dick, “it’s alright, Chum. You’re alright.”
Dick hums, turning his head to the side before letting his eyes slip closed again.
Jason sighs, before he settles in at Dick’s bedside he simply must get out of the Red Hood outfit.
So, he turns to leave, heading into the main room to get his previously discarded clothes.
“Oh, Master Jason,” Alfred is at the Bat Computer, staring at something on the screen.
“Hey, what did Dr. Thompkins say?” Jason hopes there isn’t any bad news, but Alfred looks tired which makes him anxious.
Alfred sighs, “I’m afraid there’s not much we can do. I hooked Master Dick up to an iv and am closely monitoring his symptoms.”
Jason hates this, he hates that he can’t do anything. “Do we know what it is?”
Alfred shakes his head, “nothing with long lasting affects, but it will most likely linger in his system for a few days. I tested his blood, it seems they gave him a higher dose than considered safe for a drug of this kind. Luckily Dr. Thompkins said that with Master Dick’s muscle mass and height that it shouldn’t affect him severely.”
That was good news, as long as Dick would be alright he can handle the terrible feeling of dread clawing at his throat.
God, this fucking sucks. Jason sits next to Dick, his brother’s hand pressed against his forehead. He feel like screaming, like he wants to rip apart this god forsaken room. But he knows that’s just his rage, that it would do nothing to solve the problem, so he sits there.
Dick’s hand is like a fire in his own. It’s odd, usually it’s Dick with hands like ice, now Jason can barely stand to hold onto them.
They’ve been down here for quite awhile now. It was about seven when everything went to shit, and if Jason’s internal clock was right it was somewhere close to midnight.
Most of their little family retreated for the night, there was no use going crazy in that tiny little room so they’d all left to the comfort of the house.
Bruce however was out, after making sure Dick was situated he went out in the night to try and find the bastards that crashed the party, as if they all weren’t already hiding.
The only ones that remained were Tim, Damian and himself. Alfred would be there too if it weren’t for the three of them forcing him to rest.
Jason should probably get Alfred, Dick’s fever has been steadily rising for the better part of an hour, and that wheezing is really starting to worry him.
“Jason?” Tim’s voice wavers, Jason looks over to see that he’s peeled his eyes away from his computer, eyes now fixated of Dick.
Jason doesn’t miss the look of alarm and whips his head to look at Dick. “Shit,” Jason drops Dick’s hand before jumping to his feet.
He hadn’t been looking at Dick before. God he should have because he was turning blue. “Tim, go get Al now!”
Jason didn’t wait to see if Tim had listened, instead he started tearing through the cabinets.
“Todd? What’s going on?” Damian was at his side now, they must’ve woken him up.
“Damn moron isn’t getting enough oxygen,” Jason is pulling things out of the cabinet now, letting them fall to the floor. “Help me find an oxygen tank!”
They’d just about ripped apart the entire room by the time they’d found what they were looking for.
Jason throws the mask on top of Dick’s face, being a little harsher in his movements than he’d meant to be when he pulls the strap over Dick’s head.
Dick’s head snaps away from Jason when the elastic strap comes in contact with his head.
Jason retracts his hands at that, he supposed any sort of reaction is better than nothing, but he didn’t mean to hurt him.
“What’s happened?” Alfred rushes in, looking frantic as he makes it to Dick.
“He was turning blue. I’ll clean the mess.” Now, Jason wasn’t fond of the idea of cleaning everything up, but he knows Alfred spent hours organizing everything.
“I don’t give a damn about that,” Alfred moves to adjust the mask on Dick’s face, being much more careful than Jason was.
Jason watches Alfred poke and prod at Dick’s still form and, oh god, he feels sick. He can’t do this again. He remembers watching his mom drift off, crying and shaking her unresponsive form as she slowly left him all alone. If Jason lost Dick too…
“-son? Jason!” It was Alfred.
“What do you need?” Jason takes a step closer, ready to do whatever Alfred asked.
“Help me undress him.”
“Excuse me?”
“We need to get his temperature down.” It just dwelled on Jason that Dick was still in his suit.
Jason nods, “right.” He moves to help Alfred. Together they peel the sweat soaked suit jacket to reveal a red stained dress shirt.
Jason curses, how could he forget about Dick’s wound? The guy that Dick attacked had kicked him right in the ribs, and Jason didn’t think to check if his stitches had opened?
Jason tears the shirt open, not bothering to worry about the buttons that he was ripping off. Sure enough, the bandages wrapped around Dick’s side were soaked through.
“What the hell happened?!” Tim’s voice rings from behind them.
Tim and Damian stand in the doorway. Jason’s not really sure when they’d left. Alfred must’ve sent them to get something because the two are now carrying an armful of miscellaneous items.
Jason is about to explain when…
“Jay?” Jason’s blood turns to ice when he hears that small whisper of a voice. Of all the times Dick had to come to, it was when Alfred was about to redo his stitches.
Jason turns to find Dick, eyes barely open and glazed over in pain.
Jason heads over immediately, watching as Dick searches for him with cloudy eyes. Jason frowns, unsure if Dick can even see him through all the pain and the drugs. “Hey, Dickface,” Jason runs a hand through his hair.
“‘S goin’ on?” Dick’s voice is slurred but Jason can hear the panic in it.
“It’s alright. Your stitches just opened up. Al’s gonna fix you up.”
Dick hums, “Timmy ok?”
“I’m alright, Dick.” Tim’s voice was tight, Jason wonders if Tim thinks this of Dick being awake is better or worse than the state he was in before. It hurts seeing Dick in pain, but Jason would take him being awake over unconscious right now. Awake meant the drugs hadn’t taken Dick from him yet.
“The bullet just grazed him. Worry about yourself, Dickie.” Jason takes Dick’s hand, eyeing Alfred as he gets everything ready.
“Jay?”
“Yeah?”
“Keep talking? Ears… making head spin.”
Jason frowns, his ears were ringing? Hopefully it was a side effect from the drug and not from when Jason had fired that gun. “Alright. They’re still bothering you?”
“Not bad. ‘S almost gone.” Dick’s voice comes out strained, as if talking was hard.
Jason feels bad, now Dick had to deal with his ears too. “Al’s almost ready to stitch you up. Then you can go right back to sleep, ok?”
Dick nods, his eyes squeezing shut before giving Jason’s hand the weakest squeeze Jason’s ever been on the receiving end of.
The next few minutes are hell for everyone involved. Usually, Dick is able to keep pretty still, and quiet, but his side is all bruised and messed up and the drug in his system seems to be making everything so difficult for him.
Jason holds Dick down, his older brother’s head rests on his chest while Jason wraps his arms around him so Alfred can work.
Dick is sobbing, clawing weakly at Jason’s arm in some pathetic attempt to get away from the pain. His voice is horse and squeaky and Jason just knows his throat is screaming in protest of all the noise he’s making.
Jason can see Tim comforting Damian in his peripheral. If Jason had to guess the poor kid is probably a wreck at the moment.
Dick starts to beg, asking Jason to make it stop. Dick has a pretty high pain tolerance, they all do, so seeing him react like this makes Jason want to find out just who did this to his brother and make them pay.
“Almost done, Dickie.” Jason glances at Alfred. The poor butler looks more upset than any of them, and Jason doesn’t miss the tears looking in the corner of his eyes.
Eventually, though, Alfred finishes up. The second the pain is gone Dick practically goes limp. Jason doesn’t have to check to know he passed out again.
Alfred sighs, “I’m going to bandage him up and then tell Master Bruce to return home. Master Jason I’d like an explanation for how Master Dick obtained this injury please.”
Jason tells them what happened. He tells them that Dick had gotten hurt when he’d come to pick Jason up after his mission. He explains how he’d somehow gotten stabbed without either of them realizing and that Jason stitches him up without much of a second thought. He didn’t, however bring up the fact that he’d blasted Dick’s eardrums out by shooting his gun. He already felt bad enough about that without being criticized for it.
Alfred finishes his task around the time that Jason finishes his explanation. “Alright. I’ll be in the other room. Please use the towels to try and cool him off in the meantime.”
Jason’s not sure how much time passes after that. It’s all a bit of a blur. He was just going through the motions at this point. He focuses on using the towels and bowls that Tim and Damian brought. The damp towels absorb the heat far quicker than Jason would like, but he tries not to dwell on it too much.
“How is he?”
Jason doesn’t look behind him, he knows who it is. “Besides almost dying while you were gone, he’s been doing great.”
Bruce moves to sit next to Jason, expression grim. “It was wrong of me to leave, I know. I just couldn’t take doing nothing.”
Jason supposes he can understand that. “Whatever, as long as you cut him some fucking slack for once.”
Bruce hums, “yeah, it’ll probably be a few days before he’s back to his old self. I’ll split the workload between everyone so he can just relax.”
Something tells Jason that Bruce’s plan only works in theory. There’s no way The Dick Grayson can ‘just relax’. For now, though Jason just lets it go, he’ll just have to keep an eye on his brother. “Why are you so hard on him?”
Jason can hear Bruce sigh as he pulls up a chair. He notices that he’s still in the Batman suit.
“Well?” Jason’s not going to let this go, he’s going to find out one way or another.
“I’m not trying to be.”
Jason scoffs, if he wasn’t so exhausted, he might’ve laughed.
“I do what I think will keep you boys safe. He enjoys being a bat, but he can be too careless about it. It’s concerns me.”
Jason doesn’t say anything for a while. He didn’t think Bruce giving Dick shit would’ve come out of a place of concern. Then again, he was an emotionally constipated man who regularly fought crime dressed as a bat. “He’s doing his best.”
“I know that. It’s just-“ Bruce sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just wish he’d be more careful. I wish all of you would.”