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“Dude, you’re covered in blood. Sit the fuck down.”
“This isn’t my blood.” Red Robin muttered.
He sank down to the ground all the same, glaring when Red Hood launched forward as if to catch him.
“Jesus, Kid,” Hood huffed, crossing his arms tightly. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Yes.” Red Robin said. “Always. Now go away.”
“Nah,” Hood said. “Even if that’s not your blood, you still look like absolute shit. And besides, you’re the one who should go away, you’re on my fucking turf, Kid.”
Red Robin waved him off but Hood, being Jason honestly, decided to be an absolute pain in the ass.
“You know, the amount of times you lot come traipsing onto my turf is getting fucking ridiculous, bringing in blood and drama that I want no part of.”
Tim blinked up at him.
“You always want to be part of the drama.” He pointed out.
Hood raised a finger as if to argue but then he considered for a moment, dropping the hand entirely.
“My point still stands,” Hood said. “I don’t want blood on my perfectly good streets, thank you very much, yours or anyone else’s.”
Tim blinked again.
He didn’t bother to gesture at the blood that was on Jason’s jacket, or the suspiciously dried flecks of blood on the top of his shoes, instead leaning his head back to rest against the side of the building.
“Get the fuck out of here, Not-Quite-Goldenboy.”
“You’re the one who told me to sit down, Not-Quite-Deadboy.”
“I’ll show you not quite dead you little shit. But first let me ask again more clearly, why the fuck are you here?”
When Tim blinked this time, he found that it was because his eyes had started stinging.
At once Hood was knelt down in front of him except it wasn’t Hood, it really was Jason. He set the helmet down beside him, his expression twisted between concern and fury.
“Who did this?” Jason demanded.
“It’s fine.”
“Robin. Who. Did. This.”
“This isn’t my blood.”
“Not the blood.” Jason said.
He waved a hand towards Red Robin and while Robin knew he should make a ‘you just gestured to all of me’ joke, he found that he was too busy trying to steady his breathing.
“Was it B? What the fuck did he say this time?”
Red Robin shook his head. He barely registered his own tired limbs had moved until he was already resting his chin on his knees, pulling his legs a little closer against his chest.
“Nightwing?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I just… Needed some space.”
“Space? Christ, Kid, you look fucking wrecked. When was the last time you slept? Actual sleep, not just some nap while you wait for something to load.”
Red Robin shrugged.
“Couple days?” He mumbled. “Lost track.”
Jason glared except it wasn’t a full glare, it was more… Complicated than that. Jason ran a hand through his hair and then did it again, in the way he did whenever he needed to self soothe.
Red Robin tilted his head.
“I’m okay.” He said.
“Yeah.” Hood said. “Yeah, you are. Well, you’re gonna be a pain no matter what so you might as well crash at mine.”
“No, I’m fine to get to the Cave by myself.”
“You just said you needed space, and you obviously came to my side of town for a reason. So, get the hell up Kid, don’t waste more of my time pretending you don’t need someone watching over you in order to get some sleep.”
“I don’t.” Red Robin said even as exhaustion tugged at him.
He knew that he should stand and either walk away from Jason or follow him to the closest safe house but he couldn’t summon the energy to do much more than just sit there.
Every blink was harder to come back from as if now that he knew Jason was there his defences had dropped completely even though they were still very much on the streets in one of the most dangerous areas in the entirety of Gotham.
“Up you get, Brat, don’t make me drag you up.”
Red Robin sighed.
He pushed himself up but his legs wobbled beneath him, needing to brace himself against the side of the building for a moment before standing fully.
Jason’s entire body was tense, no doubt ready to shoot forward at any moment should he need to catch Red Robin even though Red Robin was perfectly capable of walking by himself.
“Damn.” Jason whistled. “You really do look like shit.”
“Always the complimenter.” Red Robin said dryly.
Every footstep was heavy, Red Robin’s body protesting from the movement. He let Jason lead the way, barely registering when Red Hood had slid back into place instead of Jason Todd, content to just numbly follow and not need to think for a little while.
The safe house was a little further away than Red Robin had expected which meant that he’d been wrong with what alleyway he had thought that he had gone to. A dangerous mistake, a stupid childish mistake. Not knowing where you are in relation to the rest of the city, in relation to which rooftops were safe to go onto and which gargoyles were not stable enough to support a grappling hook could get you killed in an instant.
In his tiredness, Red Robin had been foolish.
Then again, even in his tiredness he’d managed to bust an entire gang tonight that even Batman had been struggling to dismantle. The big boss had been arrested, as had the lieutenant and heavy hitters with very clear evidence that the can be prosecuted with any informants being kept safe from possible retribution.
Even exhausted, Red Robin was far more capable than most and he was capable of walking just a little further too, even though all the streets were blending into one.
When they passed somewhere where Red Robin was certain there was a safe house, he realised that Hood had a particular place they were going to crash in for the night just as he realised that he could not go any further after all.
Red Robin stopped walking even as Hood kept going.
“Hey, Jay?”
Jason barely even glanced back.
“Don’t get too mad…”
Jason’s scoff was the only thing that answered him.
“But I think some of it might have been my blood after all?”
At once Jason whirled on him, his anger clear, but it hardly seemed to matter because Red Robin was already falling.
He never hit the ground, instead being enveloped in a warmth that felt as familiar as it felt safe. Red Robin’s legs trembled, threatening to give again, but before they could Red Hood readjusted and picked him up completely.
Red Robin wouldn’t have fought the contact even if he had the strength, instead letting his head fall into the crook between Jason’s shoulder and his helmet.
“You fucking idiot.” Jason muttered even as he held him close.
Tim could only hum, surrendering to the darkness now that he knew his big brother had him.
It was warm.
Tim was warm but when he tried to kick off the comforter, he found that his legs didn’t quite listen to him.
Opening his eyes were a non starter, they were glued shut with sleep, but going back to sleep was also out of the question because he could hear a kettle boiling.
He wasn’t in his bedroom.
He wasn’t in his bedroom and yet he had been asleep which meant that something was wrong, or at least it meant that someone was soon going to be lecturing him on not falling asleep in random places so often.
But Tim was lying down, even if it wasn’t on his own bed. It was a bed, though it was firmer than if it had been at the Manor, which meant most likely a Safe House.
The kettle was boiling which meant it was either Dick making a tea for Alfred or it was Jason making a tea for himself. Jason. It was Jason. Dammit, this was going to be so much worse than a lecture about falling asleep in random places.
Tim tried not to groan, leaning his head back into the pillow all the same as his eyes finally managed to crack open.
Stretching out, Tim’s breath caught as his side sparked with pain. It took a few attempts to push down the comforter far enough down his body, tugging up the fabric on his abdomen too, until he was able to see clean gauze that had been taped down onto his side, covering fuck knows what kind of injury.
Everything felt sluggish but by some miracle there was no sign of an IV or oxygen mask so at least Tim could be grateful for that much though Jason still could have very well drugged him with something rather.
Tim barely even noticed the kettle finishing being a kettle so he jolted when out of the corner of his eye he saw a looming figure by the doorway holding a mug.
Tim gritted his teeth, new pain taking it’s sweet time to ease up, confirming once and for all that he was absolutely not on any meds because holy fuck that hurt. He trembled a little longer, forcing himself to breathe through it, before turning only his head to glare at Jason.
“Hey, I’m not the idiot who moved.” Jason said, taking a sip. “But I am the idiot who didn’t let this steep long enough, damn.”
“Go away.” Tim said.
“It’s my house.” Jason pointed out. “You go away. Oh, right, you can’t move without nearly blacking out from the pain because you’re an absolute idiot.”
While greed might run some men, pure unadulterated spite was what runs Tim.
He stood up.
Except, well, he didn’t.
He tried to stand up but then he decided that while he was far from even close to blacking out, the pain was negligible at best, but then he decided that he really didn’t feel like moving off the bed purely because he didn’t feel like moving off the bed and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his vision was greying, because it wasn’t.
To Jason’s credit, he didn’t immediately laugh Tim out. Instead he sighed, and knowing Jason rolled his eyes too, coming fully into the bedroom.
“I treated the worst of it.” Jason said. “Only meds I used were antibiotics. You’re gonna have to take it easy for a few days just to make sure the stitches don’t tear. You didn’t lose too much blood in the end, exhaustion was probably what did you in.”
Giving up on standing, Tim tried to remain sitting instead but his arms were shaking as they held him up.
Jason closed the last of the distance, by some miracle not mocking Tim as he repositioned some pillows so that Tim could lean up against them, placing his barely drunk tea on the bedside table. Tim didn’t lean against the pillows, because spite once again ruled over all else, but Jason didn’t force him to either.
“I can get the Bat off your back for two days,” Jason said. “But after that, you’re on your own Kid.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Jason pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Wait, wait!” Tim said quickly. “Sorry, thanks, whatever else you want me to say, just don’t call them. Please.”
Jason lowered the phone, tilting his head.
“What the hell happened anyway?” Jason asked.
“Nothing.” Tim said. “Just the usual… Disagreements.”
“Usual disagreements. Dear Timmy, did you go on a murdering rampage and put some gang leaders heads into a duffle bag?”
“No,” Tim said. “I put them in a backpack.”
Jason’s grin was bright, his laugh even brighter and Tim tried not to perk up at the sound, his side aching far too much to be moving after all.
“So,” Jason said. “What actually happened?”
Tim fidgeted with the sleeve of the-
He blinked. Stared at the fabric. Blinked again.
“Jason Peter Todd,” Tim said lowly. “Why exactly do you have one of my sweaters in your Safe House?”
“It’s in the word, Kid.” Jason shrugged.
Safe.
Tim always felt more safe in his own clothes, especially when he was sick or hurt and the fact that Jason had stolen one of those sweaters just in case Tim might need it on a bad day warmed something in his chest even if he was still just a little bit annoyed at the fact that his brother had been snooping through his room to steal it.
“Where’s my suit?”
“Cleaned and patched up because apparently I’m a laundry service too. There was… A lot of blood, Kid.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Jason waved him off but when Tim opened his mouth to argue that this does not mean that Tim now owes him, Jason decided to flip him off too.
“You’re avoiding the question.” Jason said. “I’m only gonna ask one more time and if you deflect or lie, I’m kicking your ass out of here.”
Tim glared. Fidgeted with his sleeve. Saw that Jason was still watching him so he glared again. Then, accepting more so than realising that Jason wasn’t going to drop it, he sighed.
“I messed up on a mission. Dick got mad, said that I was reckless and could have gotten my whole team killed. I got madder. Said some things I probably shouldn’t have.”
“Surely it’s not that bad, and look I get it, Dick can be an absolute-”
“I said that I was glad his parents never had another kid given how shit he is at pretending to be a brother.”
Jason whistled but wether it was an impressed whistle or a ‘you’re a fucking idiot’ whistle, Tim couldn’t quite tell but he felt anger swell up inside him all the same. He sat up fully straight, ignoring the pain that ripped through him.
“It’s not like I meant it,” He growled. “And besides, Dick was being such an asshole, dressing me down like that in front of my Team. He doesn’t get to do that, not after all the times he’s gotten his own friends ki-”
It wasn’t Jason that stopped him, but Tim himself.
He deflated, shame filling the space where anger had been just moments before. Tim pressed against the bandages on his side, letting the pain hit him but Jason grabbed his wrist and pulled it sharply away.
Tim struggled against him but Jason held firm, glaring daggers at Tim until Tim just huffed and stopped fighting.
Jason let go, crossing his arms tightly instead, while Tim went back to fidgeting with his sleeve.
“It sounds to me like things got heated and you fucked off before you fixed it.”
“I didn’t fuck off,” Tim muttered. “We fought. He stormed off. I went on Patrol as soon as I got back to Gotham. I beat up an entire gang by myself.”
“Nearly getting yourself killed in the process.” Jason said. “Which is why, given that Dick was angry in the first place because you were too reckless, you felt like you couldn’t show your face back at the Cave even if it meant not dying of blood loss.”
Tim twisted fully away from Jason, forcing himself to not let his breath catch as it pulled at his side.
It’s wasn’t like he would have actually died, the fact that Jason had kept him here instead of taking him either to the Cave or Leslie’s clinic proved that it really was just lack of sleep recently that made him pass out, the blood loss was just a side thing.
Then again, everything hurt and despite the forced sleep that falling unconsciousness gave him, Tim was absolutely exhausted. Worse than the exhaustion was the shame though because Jason, asshole that he was, was right.
Not only had Tim messed up, he hadn’t had the guts to face Dick just in case Dick used it as an ‘I told you so’ moment. And, given what Tim had said to him, knowing full well that one of Dick’s biggest insecurities was the fact that he can’t save everyone, including his own parents…
Yeah, Tim might be the biggest asshole of them all.
Jason reached out and just when Tim thought that he might ruffle his hair or something, Jason flicked him in the forehead.
“You know what,” Jason said. “Fuck the two days sanctuary. I’m not putting up with your angsty shit for the next two days, you’re gonna go to that damn cave and you’re gonna look him right in the eye and tell him that you went too fucking far.”
“No. No way.”
“Yes way. And then you’re gonna pass out again but this time right in front of Golden Boy and not in front of me and the damn idiot’s gonna be so worried that by the time you wake up again, he won’t even be mad.”
Tim stared at him, daring Jason to admit that he was joking.
“Or,” Jason said. “You’re gonna Robin up and just face the music.”
“If I was going to Robin up,” Tim said, quirking a brow, desperate for the conversation to become easier not harder. “I would just hand Joker the Crowbar.”
Jason’s laugh was barking and when he set a hand hard on Tim’s shoulder, new pain flashed through him. Jason didn’t even look guilty which Tim supposed was only fair.
All the same, he shrugged the hand off of him.
“Can…”
Tim didn’t know why his voice suddenly failed him.
“Yeah, no,” Jason said. “There’s no way I’m gonna run shotgun on that conversation, it’ll probably become a screaming match at me instead of you.”
Tim ducked his head low, hating that he’d even gone to ask.
Jason shifted a little, bringing his knee up onto the bed as he fully twisted towards Tim.
“I’m joking,” Jason said. “Of course I’ll come with you. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t pass out on the way there or conveniently get lost on the way by fighting some dumb gang members. But, and this is a big ass but, I’m not going to let off the hook for this, Kid. You messed up. Bad. Now it’s time to own it.”
“But what if…” Tim swallowed roughly. “What if Dick decides that I went too far? What if… What if he wants nothing to do with me?”
“It’s Dick.” Jason shrugged. “Honestly, he’s probably more worried sick about you than he’s mad about what you said. Hell, I’ve said far worse and the idiot’s hugged me instead of beat my ass. You should still apologise, and I mean genuinely apologise, but if you ask me, you shouldn’t be worried about him forgiving you. We’re brothers after all, and brothers fight, even the ones not related by blood.”
“Brothers.” Tim echoed.
Tim’s fingers ghosted over the gauze on his side, thinking about how the big scary Red Hood had not only carried Tim all the way here but he had patched him up, but he’d made certain that Tim was put into his own familiar clothing with warm blankets and a comfortable if a little hard bed, with his Red Robin suit already fixed up and that wasn’t even mentioning their talk about Dick.
When Jason reached out this time, he really did ruffle Tim’s hair and Tim found that his chest warmed at the contact because Jason wasn’t just pretending to be Tim’s brother, he really was Tim’s brother, in the same way that Dick was. In the same way that Damian was becoming.
They were brothers.
They got on each others nerves, they overstepped, they became furious at one another for dumb mistakes that should have never been made in the first place. But maybe brothers make up after everything too.
While Tim really was not looking forward to seeing Dick, he knew that he would need to. He knew that he wanted to, because Tim liked having brothers and sometimes having siblings meant that you had to look them in the eye and tell them that you messed up.
Jason pulled fully away from the bed but he stopped by the doorway. He glanced back over his shoulder towards Tim but Tim didn’t meet his eye, focusing instead on the end of his sleeve.
“It really was a lot of blood.” Jason said. “I think Hood’s gonna have to be keeping an eye on a certain little bird for a little while, just to make sure it doesn’t track more blood through these streets.”
“It wasn’t all mine.” Tim muttered.
“All the same. Get some sleep, Baby Bird, we’ll head back to the Manor when you’re ready.”
Tim opened his mouth to argue that he didn’t need rest but he closed it again, his eyelids already drooping at the very idea of sleep.
Safe house indeed, Tim mused, feeling completely at ease for the first time in what might have been months.