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Tim returned to the Manor to find his room trashed. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out who did it. Dick was in Bludhaven, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t do that to Tim’s room when he wasn’t even home. Jason might do it, but he’d been fond of Tim recently, and Tim hadn’t pissed him off. And, really, Damian was already a brat. Tim should’ve seen the snooping coming.
“Damian.” Tim drew his attention a few minutes after he returned from patrol.”I need to talk to you.”
“What is it, Drake? I don’t have all day.” Damian barely spared him a glance, sharpening his katana. Tim could probably have picked a better time, but it wouldn’t be his first stabbing.
“Stay out of my room, Damian. Aside from not respecting my privacy, you went through all my stuff and left it a mess. We don’t do that here.”
Damian glared at him and Tim felt the urge to slap the expression off his face. “Tt. It is hardly my fault that you left your chambers woefully unguarded. I merely took advantage of your weakness.”
“This is my home. I don’t need to guard my room, because people in this family shouldn’t go through my things. You’re a part of this family, right?” Typical. Jason can die and no one touches his room at all for years, but Tim leaves for a week and his room is raided.
“Of course! I am the the true heir of -”
“Shut up, Damian,” Tim snapped. “I’m just as much a part of this family as you are. I’ve been here longer. Stay out of my room.”
“Make me,” Damian hissed, teeth bared, and Tim could feel the familiar glitter of rage. He tried to stay calm. He tried to ignore it, because Damian was a child raised by bad people. But he treated Tim like dirt half the time, and an inferior the other.
Tim stood straighter. He didn’t flinch when Damian drew his katana and pointed it at him threateningly. He had faced Damian’s grandfather. Damian was infuriating, yes, but not frightening.
“I’m not asking for a lot. All I want is for you to leave my personal space alone. I do the same for you.” Tim gritted his teeth and looked at him evenly.
“I have to do nothing for you, Drake! I hold no respect for you, and -” Damian broke off into an outraged snarl when his weapon was plucked easily from his grasp. “Todd!”
Jason loomed over both of them, a sneer painting his face. “Relax, Dami.”
“You imbecile! First Drake, and now you.”
“Jason, go away,” Tim sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood. “It’s fine.”
"It sure as fuck isn’t. I stopped by your room. Absolute disaster. And I think we both know it was the demon brat. I’ve seen him snoop before. He’s not as sneaky as he thinks.”
“I am a master of stealth, trained since birth -”
“Anyway, it was personal. He left it trashed on purpose, birdie. He thinks you won’t do anything. Will you?”
“Jason, he’s like ten. Relax.”
Jason looked furious for a half-second before his expression smoothed over. “You deserve better. I’ll help you set some security or something up in your room.”
“I don’t need - fine.” Jason wouldn’t give it up and he knew it. Tim just wanted to curl in his clean room and lay there until the headache forming behind his temple faded.
“Get, demon brat.” Jason forcibly shoved Damian out of the room. “Come on, Tim.”
Tim didn’t have much of a choice. Jason took his jaw in one hand and tipped it up. “Headache?”
Tim nodded once. Jason ran his hand over Tim’s forehead. “You can hang in my room while I clean up yours. Yeah?”
Agreeing was easier than arguing, and he just wanted to lie down. No one went into Jason's room, so he’d be alone. Jason pushed him lightly to get him moving. “Don’t fuck anything up in there, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sure, princess.”
“Movie night!” Dick practically bounced on his way to the sofa, remote in hand. “Disney! This week is the baby bird’s pick.”
Tim looked up with a smile. They cycled through the different brothers’ choice each week. Tim hadn’t gotten to pick in months. “Mulan?”
“Sounds great, birdie.” Jason ruffled his hair fondly. Tim indulged it until Jason settled in his usual place, tucked against the corner of the sofa. Tim was about to hunker down into his typical spot when Dick made a sort of clicking noise with his tongue that always caught Tim’s attention and patted his thigh in invitation.
Tim tipped his head to the side questioningly. Jason huffed irritably when he went over to Dick, allowing himself to be drawn into his side. Dick was leaning against Jason and pulling Tim even closer.
This was unusual. Usually, they had a pretty predictable sitting arrangement. Jason would be on the side of the couch, and next to him was Dick. Damian sprawled over what was left, using Dick as a pillow. Tim usually sat on the floor, leaning on Jason’s legs. He didn’t mind. Most of the time, Jason dropped a hand down to play with his hair until he fell asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up being hauled into Jason’s lap as the credits rolled.
Today was different. Damian would have to deal with it. Tim leaned into Dick as they started the movie. Damian snapped at him, and Jason snapped right back until Dick shoved Damian onto the plush carpet.
It was barely ten minutes in when Jason was reaching for Tim. Dick batted his hands away. “No! You always get him! My turn.”
“I’m not a toy.” Tim looked at them flatly, but his eyes fluttered shut when Dick started running his hand through Tim’s hair.
“Sure ya aren’t, princess.” Jason still sounded a little irritated.
Half an hour later, Jason was shifting. Damian muttered bitterly on the floor as Jason snagged the collar of Tim’s shirt and started tugging. Tim grumbled and clutched at Dick, who pried his grip off.
“Leave Timmy be, Jason.”
“Don’t call me that.” Tim then elected to ignore both of them, even as Jason protested. Dick kissed Tim on the forehead.
“Grayson,” Damian piped up some time later, “Todd is being obnoxious. Why don’t you simply let him have Drake?”
“Because I’m not a possession and it’s not ‘letting him have me’; it’s deciding where I want to sit during movie night.” Tim shot Jason a glare. Jason gave him an innocent look.
“That, and only polite brothers get to cuddle little brothers.” Dick squeezed Tim close for a second.
“You’re not polite,” said Jason and Tim in unison. Damian merely seethed in agreement.
“The point stands. Jay, leave the baby bird alone.”
“The demon brat is gnawing at my leg, though!”
“As if I would stoop to such lowly measures.”
Tim decided he was better off ignoring them and watching Mulan lead China to victory. This movie was the best, even if his brothers were annoying. Every ten minutes or so until the end credits began to roll, Jason would make an attempt to snatch him, fended off nobly by Dick and Tim let them do their thing.
Finally, the movie was over. Tim yawned, and looked mournfully up the unfairly long staircase. “Why is my room so faaaaar?”
Dick leaned down, smiling indulgently at him. “I’ll -”
“I’ll take Timkerbell upstairs. You wrangle the brat - I don’t want rabies.” Jason slid his arms under Tim’s back and lifted him easily. Tim leaned his head back against Jason, blinking sleepily up at him. Jason smiled at him and kissed the top of his head.
“Sure.” Dick was smirking, like he knew something that they didn’t, as he scooped a drowsily bitey Damian off the floor. He trailed after them as Jason carried Tim up the stairs, patting Damian on top of the head when he squirmed.
Tim was too tired to make fun of Jason for the tender look on his face when he lowered Tim down onto his bed and pulled the covers carefully over him. “Sleep well, birdie. If you get a nightmare, my room’s always open to ya.”
“Thanks, Jay.” Tim’s jaw cracked in a yawn, leaning into Jason’s hand when he brushed hair out of Tim’s face. “You too.” And then he was asleep.
Tim was not having a great day. He was tired, bruised, and pissed. They had been ambushed and sure, maybe he didn’t have to go quite as extreme as he did, but it wasn’t his fault they were child traffickers and Tim was a little more violent than necessary. Bruce already had his Lecture FaceTM on, and Tim didn’t want to deal with that.
“Tim,” Bruce began, but Tim didn’t look at him. Bruce cleared his throat and tried again. “Tim, that was a very reckless decision -”
“I know,” Tim said, even though he didn’t. He didn’t decide to let his temper get the better of him.
“And you put not only yourself, but your teammates at risk by losing control -”
“I know.”
“There will be consequences, because I expect better of you -”
“I know.”
“Your teammates expect better of you -”
“I know.”
“And you should expect better of yourself. You could have taken a life, you could have gotten hurt, other people could have gotten hurt -”
“Leave the kid alone, old man. Everyone’s fine, no harm no foul. He’s dead on his feet.” Jason’s voice came from behind him, drawing him closer by two hands on his shoulder. Tim let his head drop back onto Jason’s shoulder by instinct.
“Jason, it’s fine.” As usual, no one listened. Bruce didn’t seem convinced, but Jason snapped something else out, and then they were bickering like Tim wasn’t there.
Tim decided to take the opportunity to slip away and leave them to their fighting. But Jason’s hand, resting on him, pulled him back. Jason didn’t even glance at him, too busy exchanging biting words that were returned as reasonable passive-aggression.
Tim tried again, but Jason tugged him back with ease. Tim sighed and blocked out their quarreling, which was probably Jason’s fault. At least Bruce had stopped lecturing, and had probably started debating the morals of taking a life with Jason.
Jason got like this sometimes. He was always so protective of the whole family, but especially Tim. In his efforts to keep him safe, both from their enemies and his brothers, Jason became stifling on occasion. Tim had become adept at dealing with it - usually all he had to do was let Jason usher him this way and that, as loathe as he was to follow along - and Jason had become better at keeping it to a minimum, but it happened.
Unfortunately for Tim, Bruce seemed to trigger it. Which meant now, when Jason had seen Tim, tired and being lectured, he’d decided that meant he had to help. Which wasn’t helpful.
Tim tried to get Jason’s attention by tapping his shoulder insistently. Jason turned to him for a moment, shushing him like he was a child, then went back to arguing. Tim winced as he started shouting.
A hand ran over his hair once, twice, and Jason dropped his voice a little. All without even looking at him. Tim allowed himself to lean into Jason, closing his eyes against the incessant droning of their argument. He could feel Jason’s voice rumble in his chest.
After a few minutes with no signs of a cease-fire, Tim forcibly tore himself out of Jason’s grip, ignoring his protests, and stalked up the stairs. He didn’t see Jason for a few hours after that, and, no, he was not avoiding him, not one bit.
“Hey, Timantha.” Jason’s hand was on his shoulder again. He wasn’t physically spinning Tim around, but he was asking for it.
Tim reluctantly turned. ”What have we said about those nicknames?”
“That they’re amazing and I’m great at making them?”
Tim didn’t dignify that with a response.
“Yeah, fair. Anyway, you’ve been avoiding me. What’s up with that?”
“I saw you less than six hours ago, Jason.”
“Yeah, and we live in the same house and you’re clingy. In a good way.” Tim found that unfair. Jason ruffled his hair and sighed. “Alright, birdie. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Tim said. Jason seemed about to protest, but Tim leaned back into him, shuddering as his vision was stained with blood, cries that weren’t real echoing in his mind. He didn’t know if they were his, the victims’ he couldn’t save, or the traffickers’.
“Hey, hey, sweetheart. You’re okay.” Jason’s voice was impossibly soft, drawing him close. “I gotcha. What’s wrong?”
Tim pressed his face against Jason’s chest and mutely shook his head.
Jason wrapped his arms around him, utterly surrounding Tim, and he’d never felt so safe from the horrors. Jason held him until the sobs faded.
“Alright, Red, you ready for this?” Dick checked him over one last time in the Cave.
Tim’s outfit was flawless. A tightfitting halter top with a cropped bottom, booty shorts that were a little too short to be comfortable, eyeliner and lip gloss, and kitten heels.
Unfortunately for Tim, he was the only one who could pull off the desperate twink looking for a job look. Dick was close, but apparently Tim’s lithe - not tiny, thank you very fucking much, Jason - frame helped it along.
Tim was not a fan of undercover work like this. But if it stopped the drug trafficking ring? Worth it. He smiled, batting his eyelashes. “Of course. Let’s get outta here before Damian spots me.”
Dick went to ruffle his hair, but Tim slapped his hand away. “Do you even know how long it took to do this?” He had spent forever arranging it to be ‘artfully messy’.
“Alright, baby bird. Just be careful, alright? Find Riley, plant the bug, and get out. If anything happens, you have your panic button. And there’s a tracker in your earrings if something goes super wrong. You know how B is.”
“You’re lucky my ears were already pierced.” It had been Kon’s idea, and he was delighted to do it for Tim. He didn’t wear earrings a lot, but it wasn’t bad. They’d gotten matching ones.
“Come on, let’s go. We’ll drive by -”
“What. The. Fuck.” Jason was behind Tim before he even registered his entrance, spinning around to face him. “What are you wearing?”
“It’s not a phase, Mom,” Tim said wryly. Jason looked unimpressed.
“There’s no way you’re planning to wear that out there.” Jason gave him a once over, his expression distinctly disappointed. Tim found himself defensive.
“What, too embarrassed your baby brother’s a slut? I can do what I want, Jason. It’s my body.”
“That’s not it, princess. It’s your body, sure. Do you know how many bodies I dig up a week looking like that? This is Gotham, Tim. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“It’s for a case,” Dick chimed in helpfully. “We’ll have an eye on him, he’ll have a panic button and everything.”
Jason practically snarled at him, pulling Tim closer by the strap of his top. “Does it look like I give a shit? I’m not standing by while our little brother gets murdered!”
Tim stifled a scream. Why couldn’t Jason let him leave? It was a case, he’d done worse. At least he’d stay fully clothed the entire time. He elbowed Jason in the gut, hard, and used his momentary surprise to slip out of his grip and beside Dick. “Jason, relax! I’ll be in there for an hour, tops. Stop smothering me!”
Dick snickered, and Tim shoved him. Jason looked between them once, eyes glittering green, before he stormed out.
“Ugh!” Tim groaned the moment Jason left. “Why can’t he just leave me alone? He’s always so overbearing!”
Dick actually chuckled this time, looking at Tim with an unbearably fond look. “Don’t you get it, baby bird? You’re his favorite. And Jason’s always been protective of his favorites.”
Tim looked at him and said nothing. He thought over the words until they were at the club, and it was time to focus.
So he smiled and pretended not to notice the eyes burning into his bare skin, uncomfortably aware of the way his top rode up, revealing even more of his stomach. He kept careful balance on his heels and swayed his hips as he sauntered up to their target: Anthony Riley. 43, white male, tattoo across his shoulders of a griffin, 5 '11, and currently leading the drug operation.
Also well known for his taste in both men and women, specifically delicate-featured, lean frames. Tim, unfortunately for him, fit it well.
“Well, hey there, gorgeous.” Ew. Cliche. Tim fluttered his eyelashes at Riley and stepped closer.
“Hi. You’re looking a little lonely - want some company?” Indeed, Riley was alone at the bar, presumably waiting for a meeting. Tim made sure to keep his expression open and his smile sweet.
“With a pretty thing like you? ‘Course I do. Just for a little though, meetin’ a friend here soon.”
Tim sidled up beside him, ignoring how his skin crawled when Riley wrapped an arm around him. Just as he was running a light hand over his chest to tuck the bug into his jacket, the back of his neck prickled. Someone was watching him.
That wouldn’t be surprising, but the heavy weight of it was familiar, and when he subtly turned to look, he saw wide shoulders and a dark head with a streak of white hunched in a corner booth. Tim seethed.
Might as well give him a show. To piss him off, because favorite brother or not, this was getting annoying.
Tim successfully placed the bug, and leaned his head against Riley’s shoulder, giving him a soft, vaguely seductive smirk. Riley hummed, eyes darkening slightly, and tightened his arm around Tim.
“So, pet, is this your first time around these parts? Could be dangerous for a sweet thing like you.”
If only he knew.
But Tim took the cover that he could and nodded, widening his eyes slightly in faux alarm. “Yeah. Should I be worried?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for you.” Riley smiled in a way he clearly thought was charming. Tim fought the urge to shudder.
Maybe he was overdoing it. He was definitely overdoing it. But the irritation he could feel radiating off Jason even from here made it worth it.
“Thanks.” Tim inched closer. Damn, he was good at this. He deserved an Oscar.
“No problem, sweet - hey!”
Tim’s wide eyes were real this time as he was yanked away from Riley and against a solid chest. He didn’t even have to look to know who it was. “I think it’s my turn with the pretty boy.”
Tim subtly elbowed him in the gut. Jason didn’t react, but Tim knew he could feel it. And, unless he wanted to start a brawl, which wouldn’t be good considering Riley’s ‘friends’ just walked in, he would have to go with it.
So Tim smiled and nodded. “I think your friends are here, anyways. Thanks for the conversation.” He let Jason haul him out of the club, then whirled on him.
“What the fuck, Jason? You almost compromised the mission!”
“Don’t play with me, Tim. I know the bug was already planted. You were just being a brat. Come on, we’re going back.”
Tim glared up at him, and Jason softened. “I know the type, birdie. He wasn’t gonna leave you alone unless I grabbed ya.”
“Whatever,” Tim said, but followed Jason to his bike and tried to ignore the way his skin still itched where Riley had touched him. Jason ran his hand over Tim’s arm, soothing his goosebumps.
Tim tapped his hidden com. “Success. I planted it without any issues arising; save for J being himself.”
Nightwing’s familiar laugh. “Of course he was a nuisance. He’s J. Good work, Red.”
“Yes, good work. Return to the Cave. And tell J we will be discussing his interference upon his arrival.”
“Alright, B. Red Robin out.” Tim turned to Jason, lounging against his bike. Bruce’s words of approval still left a warmth in his chest and a small smile on his face. “B says you’ll be discussing your interference when we get back.”
“Suck up.” Jason ruffled his hair and straddled the bike. “Get on.”
“Can I drive?”
“Absolutely not.”
Tim pouted a little bit and watched Jason’s face cave. “Fine. You can hold the handlebars.”
Good enough. He hopped in front of Jason. “I’m still mad at you. You’ve been bitchy since you saw my outfit.”
“It’s ‘cause I worry, birdie. I gotta keep you safe, y’know?”
“I don’t need you to keep me safe,” Tim sighed, leaning against Jason as he started the engine.
“I know. But I will anyway.”
They drove to the Cave in silence.
Tim laughed as he swung by Ivy, twisting to avoid the burst of pollen. He shouldn’t be laughing, but he was meant to be the distraction while Nightwing snuck up. Sure, they could go for a full-blown fight, which might be more efficient, but they also ran the risk of being incapacitated, and with even more Rogues running amok, they couldn’t risk it.
“Come on, Ivy, you can do better than that!” Tim took a flying leap, tucking into a flip just for the thrill. He heard Ivy’s frustrated hiss, and Nightwing’s warning that he was meant to distract her, not provoke her, ringing in his ear.
“I sure can, Robin 2.0.” Ivy smiled sharply, and that was when Tim decided his offense at being called Robin 2.0 - Red Robin was a perfectly acceptable name and not stealing the title of Robin - was not quite as important as not getting dosed with whatever Ivy cooked up this time.
“Red, hold for another minute or two. Stop pissing her off.”
“Fine, fine.” Tim ducked another pollen spray, yanking his leg away from a creeping vine.
“Where are your friends, little bird?” It would have sounded caring if it wasn’t twisted with mocking. Tim didn’t take it too personally.
“You’re not the only one out here, Ivy. Can’t get all the attention.” Tim flashed Ivy a charming grin that didn’t work. His flight was sent off course by a swat from one of her plants. He landed lightly nonetheless, spinning around to face her.
“Good move.” On the ground, he was more vulnerable, limited in his space to maneuver and his ability to avoid her plants.
“I know.” Tim spotted Nightwing stalking from behind Ivy out of the corner of his eye, giving Tim a quick thumbs up.
Tim took that as a sign to keep drawing Ivy’s attention. “So, how about that new parasite taking down all the oaks? I think it’s kinda cute.”
Ivy was not looking very pleased at all, but then Nightwing was on her, quick and precise, and Tim allowed himself to relax. That was a mistake.
Tim yelped as a vine curled around his ankle and yanked, toppling him over for a flower to belch pollen straight to his face. Tim coughed, and Nightwing looked over from binding Ivy.
“Shit, Red. We gotta get you an antidote.”
Tim gave him a little wave. “I’m good. I can keep going ‘til we wrap this up.”
“The fuck you can, Replacement,” Oh, somebody was in a mood. Hood’s voice came out as a growl. “You got pollened and you’re heading straight back to the Cave.”
“Fuck off, Hood.”
“Just for that, I’m coming to drag you back myself. ‘Wing, I’ll be there in three.”
Nightwing seemed to have no problem with that, patting Tim companionably on the shoulder but not touching the pollen. “Scarecrow?”
A muffled scream. “Dealt with.”
“Can you stop pretending I don’t exist? I can keep going and get myself back.”
“No,” Nightwing and Hood said in the exact same tone.
“Hood will be here any second, Red. Side effects?” Nightwing looked him up and down.
“Little cold,” Tim said with a shiver. He could already feel the pollen begin to creep in. “Cuddle pollen. Could be worse.”
Nightwing looked even more concerned. “Hood, it’s cuddle pollen.”
“I’m here.” Tim whirled around as Hood landed behind him with a light thud, one hand wrapping around him. “I’ll take him back. Hurry up.”
Waves of heat flowed from the contact, even through Hood’s jacket and glove.
“Actually, we just wrapped up. The Riddler’s been caught too. I can drive Red back in the Batmobile -”
Nightwing reached for Tim, fingertips brushing his shoulder. Tim leaned into the contact, but Hood pulled him back abruptly.
“I’ll take him. Sooner we get back the better. Come on, Red.” Hood tugged him along and Tim followed, too dazed to object. Hood peeled off one glove to wrap around Tim’s newly bared wrist and it felt like fire to combat the growing cold.
Tim shivered again, and Hood cooed at him, the sound distorting oddly through the modulator. “I know, birdie. Give it a few minutes, yeah?”
Tim nodded without even thinking. Hood lifted his gloved hand to cup Tim’s cheek, while Tim stared at the expressionless helmet, then hopped on the bike at Hood’s instruction. Hood slid behind me, and even though the feeling was dulled, his warmth kept the ice from stabbing at his insides.
Tim started shivering harder as the pollen kicked in further. “Sh, almost there. A little longer.”
Just as they were about to enter the Cave, Tim heard the distant rumble of the Batmobile. He didn’t care; he was so cold.
“Listen, Timmy - you hearing me?” Hood waved a hand in front of his face. Tim blinked and focused on him. “Good. You have to take a decontamination shower, and then we can cuddle all night. I won’t let you go. Got it?”
The only thing more intimidating than being alone was disappointing Jason. He nodded, letting Hood push him towards the shower, unable to stifle the keen when the ice stabbed at him, tearing him apart. He turned the shower as hot as it would go, stripping his clothes.
Even the water, turning his skin a bright red under the stream, couldn’t do more than take half the edge off. He rubbed at his arms and rinsed out his hair and face thoroughly. He couldn’t afford to contaminate someone, but he was so cold.
The second he was sure he had washed away the last of the pollen, he stumbled out of the shower and threw on clothes from a locker. He was pretty sure they were Dick’s, baggy and warm, but not drowning him like Jason or Bruce’s would. He went out the door and straight into Jason, changed out of his armor and helmet into a t-shirt and cargo pants.
Tim buried his face in Jason’s chest, trying to get closer. Jason wrapped one arm around him, chasing away the freeze in Tim’s skin wherever his bare skin touched Tim’s. Tim let himself relax, clinging to him.
“Don’t go. Please.”
Jason leaned down, ran his fingers through Tim’s hair, and kissed the top of his head. “Sh, I’m here.”
Tim melted into the contact and tried to ignore the fact that Jason was arguing with someone - Dick.
“- always has an adverse reaction, needs -”
“ - got him, fuck off -”
“ - can’t keep him to yourself like -”
Tim was jerked backwards, away from the hand that pressed against his back. He nearly fell, caught by Jason again. He shivered again, pressing closer. Jason’s hand ran through his hair again. Tim forced himself to focus on the argument.
“You know Tim always has the worst reaction to cuddle pollen out of all of us, you need to let someone else help!”
“The hell I do! He’ll be perfectly fine with me. Where’s the trust?”
“The trust isn’t relevant right now!” Dick’s voice was loud. Tim winced, and his next words were softer.
“Sorry, baby bird. You know the effects are just gonna get worse. They always are with him. Just let one of us help -”
“No!” Jason’s half-shout drew Tim back out of the cold, empty hallways. “I got it.”
“I will call Bruce,” Dick said, and Tim knew it was an empty threat. From the tightening of Jason’s grip - not that Tim objected, trying to fuse himself to Jason - he didn’t know that.
“And what’s he going to do? Lecture me?”
“I can’t overpower you. But he can.” Dick wouldn’t do it. If Tim turned around, he wouldn’t see the steel in his eyes that told him Dick meant it. Dick wouldn’t ever do that to Jason unless it was 100% necessary. This didn’t call for it.
Jason stiffened, his hand dropping from Tim’s hair to spread over the base of his neck. It was oddly soft, but Tim knew it was more than that. If he thought about it, he might’ve been offended. But his hand was warm and making Tim warm and he couldn’t care. “You won’t.”
Dick sighed. Tim imagined him deflating. “You’re right, I won’t. But please don’t do that.”
Tim was still shivering, though it was fading to something more manageable. He was alone, an entire empty manor stretched before him. Cool, modern designs with neutral colors and plastic sheets covering the furniture. He was alone. He was always alone.
It was so quiet. The sound of his breathing was too loud to stand, so he stopped, holding it until his lungs burned and he was forced to inhale sharply. He winced as it rang out, wrapping himself in his arms and - Tim’s arms weren’t that big, that scarred - yet - or that warm.
“Tim!” Tim blinked and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. Jason was snapping his fingers in front of Tim’s face, and from the way he said Tim’s name, he’d been saying it for a while.
Jason’s breath was slightly faster than normal - and this wasn’t the Cave. This was Jason’s room, and Dick wasn’t here. Tim tried to stop shaking.
“Stop leaving,” Jason growled, his voice sharp with a command Tim was startlingly used to following.
“You’re here, in Wayne Manor. I’m with you. You’re not alone.”
Tim pressed closer, letting Jason’s bulk envelope him, but it wasn’t enough. He was still shaking and the edges of Drake Manor were creeping into his vision. He wanted more, he wanted long arms and tight hugs, he wanted his big brother, he wanted -
“Dick,” Tim pleaded, looking up at Jason.
“No.” Jason clutched him harder, like if he did it enough Tim would be okay. “I have you. You’re fine.”
“But -”
“I said no.” Jason settled a hand on the back of his neck and squeezed. Tim went still. It didn’t hurt, but it could. And it still felt so good, Jason’s hand against his skin. “Easy there.”
Tim tucked his head under Jason’s chin, wishing he wasn’t the only one. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Jason there - Jason always kept him safe, even if Tim objected - but he wanted Dick there too and just - he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to be utterly surrounded by his family as the grays of Drake Manor bled into the world. If he squinted he could see the vase that stood in the hall outside his room, the one that was worth more than him.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop leaving?” Tim flinched, but it drew him back. “That’s right. You stay here.”
Tim nodded and was rewarded by Jason kissing the top of his head and wrapping a blanket around them as he hummed a melody, leaving starbursts of pleasant fire wherever he went. Tim pulled at him, trying to get impossibly closer.
Jason paused. “Hold on, lemme try this.” He rolled over so Tim was squished underneath him, covered except for his face.
Tim absolutely melted. Jason was pressed against him, horribly, wonderfully warm, and Tim let his eyes drift shut. “Mmmm.”
“There we go. That’s a good bird. Feeling better?” Jason brushed his hand along the thin scar on Tim’s throat when he nodded and dropped his head back. “Go to sleep, birdie. When you wake up you’ll be okay.”
Tim obeyed.
Tim was used to his plans working out. He was also used to them going wrong. Nothing in Gotham was certain except for the crime and the grime that coated the streets. He was not used to his plans going so wrong that the entire family was pissed.
Time to review.
The plan was simple - for Tim, anyway. Hood would provide a distraction by doing what he did best; explosions. Batman hadn’t been fond of that part, but the risk was low, and all that would burn was the drugs.
So, while Riley and co. were distracted by one of their main storehouses blowing up, Batman and Robin would go first. They would take out the guards and put on a bit of a show, while Tim and Nightwing slipped past the defenses that were left. Nightwing would confiscate what remained of their resources, while Tim downloaded everything onto a thumb drive.
In theory, it was a good plan. Everyone was playing to their strengths, and with a bit of luck Hood would hurry back in time to back them up.
Of course, it went to total shit from the very beginning.
It started with Hood’s part. When he’d arrived at the storehouse, all seemed well. He’d set the explosive, and was on his merry way out, singing Toxic into the coms. And then he’d heard a muffled shout.
Turns out, hostages had been taken days previous in preparation for something. Hood had barely dismantled the bomb in time, then realized all the drugs had been moved anyway. By the time he’d alerted the rest of them, it was too late.
Even the Dynamic Duo hadn’t been prepared for the onslaught of armed guards. Nightwing had stayed back to help while Tim had ventured out on his own.
Except that hadn’t worked either. Tim had nearly got caught, and when Batman turned to chase off his pursuer with a grunted “Go!” Robin had been captured.
That had set everyone off. Tim hadn’t even managed to get into their computers, sidetracked by freeing Robin, who’d snapped at him and stabbed a thug in the thigh.
Their saving grace had been Hood, returning as quickly as he could in a hail of bullets that had certainly drawn attention well. The rest of them had used the opportunity to flee when they could, tail between their legs.
Tim was stitching up a rather deep cut in his leg from a sharp blade. He was actually pretty sure Damian had done it in a moment of pettiness, but he didn’t have any proof, so he winced as he pulled the skin together.
Bruce stood before him, carefully checking Damian over while Dick fussed over his bruises. Brat.
“Tim,” and Bruce looked angry, like Tim failed, again, because he always did. This wasn’t even a difficult mission and he messed it up, “I expected better of you. This was the first time I allowed you full control of planning, and it went disastrously.”
“Damian could have gotten really hurt, Tim. He was captured.” Dick looked at him with an air of sadness, and that stung almost as much as Bruce’s gold gaze.
Tim was the one who had rescued him, but he said nothing about it, trying not to seethe. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be. You let down all of us, Drake. And despite the fact that it was your useless plan that got us into that mess, you somehow managed to make yourself even more of a burden by failing to defend yourself, forcing Father to leave his position to save you.”
“And now Damian needs stitches. Luckily, that was the worst injury any of us sustained, since Jason gave us enough cover to leave before things became too bad.”
Tim refrained from saying the wound on his leg that he was having trouble stitching together with shaking hands was worse than Damian’s cut. He ducked his head.
“We really had faith in you to lead this mission, Tim. I put a lot on the line, trying to give you an opportunity to grow in the strategic side of things. Unfortunately, it didn't pay off. Now we’ll have to track down the ring again and plan another attack. You will not be involved in the making of that one.” Bruce sounded horribly cold.
Tim felt himself hunching over a little with every word, like they were physical blows to his skin. The next ones hurt the most.
Dick didn’t even look mad at him. His expression was guilty, and that hurt more than anything. “Maybe this is my fault. I told B you were ready. I thought you were. But I overestimated you, and that was my fault. You’re still recovering from when Bruce left -” When you failed to get him back, Tim heard, “ - and none of us should have expected so much from you. I’m sorry for thinking you could do it.”
Before Tim could even say anything, Damian spoke up. “Don’t pity him, Grayson. This was his own fault, not yours. He should have stepped up to the challenge and completed his goals, but instead he failed, miserably. He is a disappointment to all of us and I do not see how he could ever have held the role of Robin with any sort of competency.”
Dick gave Damian a stern look, but no one corrected him. Maybe Damian was right. Maybe - maybe they would all be better off without Tim.
Bruce was saying something now, but Tim couldn’t make himself listen. Every time his voice raised in volume, Tim flinched. No one noticed.
Just as Bruce was picking up steam, and Tim started to tune back in, bracing himself, someone big stepped between them, a physical barrier between the lecture and Tim. When he blinked and registered the leather jacket and holsters, Tim nearly cried with relief.
It was Jason. Jason wouldn’t yell at him when he was still in his uniform and hunched over. Jason had his back, because he always did, even if it was annoying.
“Lay off him, guys. He’s just as beat up as the rest of ya. Give him room to breathe.” Jason’s voice was slightly gravelly like it got when he was tired, but firm. He didn’t turn to look at Tim, but Tim felt better anyway.
“Just because Drake is practically your pet doesn’t mean you must defend him when he most certainly doesn’t deserve it.” Damian was disdainful, as usual, even if Tim couldn’t see his face. He was a little offended at the pet part, but he knew Damian was just being himself, and honestly Tim just wanted out.
“What was that, Damian?” Jason straightened, looking down at Damian. “Care to repeat that?”
Damian scoffed at him, about to repeat it in a more insulting way, but Dick pulled him back. “Jason, you’re overreacting.”
Jason turned to gesture at Tim, who was breathing slowly and carefully as he attempted to finish stitching up his leg. “Look at him! He’s halfway to a panic attack, and stitching together a nasty wound that you apparently didn’t even notice. Leave him be.”
Tim flinched when Bruce started talking. This time, Bruce noticed, and softened his voice, but expression was still stony. “I’m aware Tim had also been injured, but -”
“But nothing,” Jason snapped. “He’s just a kid, Bruce.” Tim was actually almost eighteen, but now seemed a bad time to mention that.
“Baby bird, are you okay? That doesn’t look fun.” Dick slipped around Jason when he was distracted with Bruce, laying a soft hand on his thigh, by the wound. Tim recoiled so violently that he hit his head on the wall. Dick’s words from earlier still rang in his mind.
“Hey!” Jason was there, pushing Dick back. “Give him some space.” He turned back, looking at Tim for the first time. “What happened, birdie?”
Tim mutely shook his head and tried to finish stitching the wound. Jason swatted his hand away, pointedly ignoring Bruce, Damian, and Dick behind him, then started to do it himself.
Damian started talking, but Jason turned on him and growled out something Tim couldn’t hear. Damian fell silent. Jason finished sewing Tim’s wound together and stood. “Fuck off.”
“Ja -”
“No, Dick. I’m leaving, and I’m taking him with me. Isn’t that right, princess?”
Tim barely had the energy to glare at Jason for the name, but he nodded once. Jason, who was the most unharmed out of all of them, and the most bloodied, lifted him with ease, careful around his bruises. He pushed past the rest of their family in various states of protest, keeping Tim safe from judgemental gazes and disappointed faces.
Tim dropped his head back against Jason’s chest, sighing softly as Jason walked him upstairs. “Thank you, Jason.”
Jason kissed his forehead, and just like that Tim knew he could finally relax.
“Of course, birdie. I got your back.” And he always did, didn’t he? Sometimes, it paid to be Jason’s favorite.