Chapter Text
The whole ordeal was honestly exhausting, Dick realizes. He forgets he doesn’t live a normal civilian life.
Normal civilians don’t typically get shot at, or have to save the world and go to space, do they? Good thing Dick only had to deal with one of them, anyways— getting shot at isn’t the worst, though. He’s had his fair-share of injuries. Or at least, he wants to think so. The pain in his side from the gunshot seems to hurt less when he puts it on a scale.
Dick mindlessly stares at the ceiling, reminiscing about him and his brother’s little run-in.
From the man who he’d barely learnt trust; wondering who he turned into, who’s now buying him groceries. Odd, huh? Fate seems to work in strange ways.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts, when he hears rustling against the door. Jason.
He instantly gets up, when shit— his side protests, and Dick clutches his stomach in pain. He falters, staggering a step back, biting back a groan. The door swings open, and Jason holds a grocery back in each hand, before shooting a defeated look at Dick.
“Seriously? What the hell, I just got back and you’re already trying to give yourself a chance to rip all the stitches out?” Jason narrows his eyes at him, setting the grocery bags down near the kitchen, before making his way to Dick.
Dick gives him a sheepish smile, as Jason goes to grab the first aid kit. “Just wanted to help, little wing.”
Jason snorts. “Nah, you do enough of that. Now sit down.”
Dick pouts, but complies, sitting back onto the couch as Jason follows.
His brother opens the kit, neatly organizing all the items, before reaching for the hem of Dick’s shirt; he hesitates and pauses, looking at him.
Dick knows Jason’s asking if he can, and he gives a nod. Something so familiar and nostalgic washes over Dick, euphoria blooming in his chest. Something in the way of communicating through eyes speaks out to Dick, and he’s grateful his brother can work with him like this. Through their twisted, rocky relationship, they still find things that they could only understand through each other.
Jason works in silence, his hands manipulating Dick’s wound with precision and precaution. He stitch-rips, and re-stitches Dick’s wound, and changes his bandages for him. The old, bled-through gauze gets flinged into the garbage, and his brother sanitizes his hands. He packs up the kit, and before Dick can thank him, Jason stands up, already heading towards the kitchen. Dick shoots him an odd look from the couch as Jason looks back from the kitchen, shooting him an equally confused look.
“Well, Dickie, the groceries aren’t going to unload themselves, are they?” A coy smile plays on Jason's lips.
Half an hour later, Dick’s in front of a pan beside Jason, squinting his eyes at a recipe-book that was thrown in his hands. Dick stares at the recipe, blankly, for at least another minute before an annoyed groan follows from beside him.
“Oh my god, are you really that fuckin’ blind?”
“Hey—I am not. It’s not my fault you shoved me something to read that isn’t even in English!”
“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Right here!” Dick points at a word in a step, frustrated. “Like seriously, what the heck does ‘ parboil’ mean?” He mocks, in a goofy voice.
Jason shoots him an absurd and slightly concerned expression. “Dick, par- boil. Like, partly boil?”
Dick momentarily freezes, the gears slowly– but surely churning in his mind.
“ Ohhhh… That…okay, yeah. That makes sense.”
Jason runs a hand over his face, sighing.
“Okay y’know what? I’m just gonna…” Jason grabs the recipe-book abruptly from Dick’s hands, “do all the reading, okay?”
Dick frowns. “Fine…I’m not stupid, though.”
“Goodluck telling anyone that. Your own family doesn’t take you seriously.” Jason snorts, grabbing various cooking utensils and placing them neatly beside the freshly washed veggies Dick had laid out.
Dick was going to continue with washing the rest of the vegetables, his back turned, before he glanced at Jason.
“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said? C’mon, don’t act all surprised.”
Dick turns the tap water off. “No…I kinda am?”
“Buddy, you didn’t give up being Robin for nothing, right?” Jason laughs, dryly. “Bruce is an asshole. He didn’t take you seriously. Any of us.”
“That’s— that’s not true, Jason.” Dick’s a little shocked. He forgets that this side of Jason he sees isn’t what the others see. “Bruce always cared. He still does. He just does a bad job of showing it, y’know?” Dick disregards Jason’s point of giving up being Robin. He might have a point but— Bruce has changed.
“No, he only gave you an ill-illusion of thinking so. Dick, he wasn’t even there for your graduation. ” And fuck— that stings; because he’s right. “He turned you— and me, into fucking soldiers at a young age. You left him, to become a new persona, in a whole different city.” Jason laughs, but it falls short. “But go ahead, and see it as you will.”
Thrown aback, Dick’s eyes soften at his brother. He can’t be too upset— not after his brother’s life got ripped from him. And then one man whom he thought would save him, never showed.
“I— okay, he’s got some questionable moments. I’m not saying he’s all great, shit, he’s not perfect. But who is, really?” Dick begins, turning the water back on, rinsing the rest. He’s lost in thought, as he continues. “He’s just bad at feelings. He’s screwed up, for more times than fingers than I can count, but…Bruce is Bruce, man. He’ll always be there for us, and he’ll be there for you too, Jason.” Words seem to tumble out of his mouth all at once. “Bruce cares about you, a lot. He always has, and he feels a lot of guilt after…well, everything.”
The only sound that is heard is from the water from the tap, since Dick registers that Jason’s stopped moving around with the cooking equipment. Dick looks behind him in confusion, and sees Jason leaning against the counter, silent. He has this distant look on his face.
“Jay?” Dick murmurs, cautiously.
“...Would, uh, you wanna come to the manor with me? This week?”
Dick shoots him a hopeful smile, and for once, everything feels normal.
“Anytime, Jay.”
Thirty minutes pass, and god— 30 minutes too many. Dick attempts to flambé his veggies, fails miserably, now resulting in scorch marks all over his kitchen, Jason screaming wildly for Dick to step in the time-out corner, and probably gave 3 heart attacks to little brother on top of all that.
Later, they decide that maybe Dick should stick with take-out for the time-being.
Dick slumps into the couch, and Jason accompanies him sitting beside, as they sit down with some noodles. Dick aggressively slurps his noodles, just enough to piss off Jason.
“I swear to— can you stop that, dumbass?” Jason turns to him, voice filled with irritation.
“What, I'm hungry?” Dick bats his eyes.
“Can you be less hungry, then?” With a huff, Jason picks up the remote for the TV, and mindlessly scrolls through the channels. Dick chuckles, taking another bite. Jason ends up persuading him to watch Coraline, despite Dick’s refusal to stomach the eerie vibe.
“It’s spooky! I don’t wanna watch it.”
“D— It’s a children’s movie. How are you frightened?”
Dick groans. “It’s just weird…Why can’t we watch something like Moana? I dunno. Something good though.”
“Excuse me? Are you saying Coraline isn’t a good movie? Because right here, right now, I will fight you on that.”
“No, it’s awesome— but not my vibe. Of course you wanna watch something creepy, you little demon veggie-consumer.”
“…I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say anything.”
Jason dismisses him, and they bicker for another 10 minutes about what to watch. Eventually, they land on watching episodes of Brooklyn 99 . Dick rants about his moments of being a cop, and what it was like, and ties it in the show. Jason listens, and for once, it felt it really was just them now, together. Two brothers that are connected through a way too tight and ridiculously bright costume that would resemble traffic lights.
Eventually episodes go by and Dick’s nearing the end of his rant, he seems to be exhausted; to be fair his body begs for rest after his injury. He lays his head on Jason, without realizing, but his little brother makes no comment on it.
“Rest, Dickie.”
Sleepily, Dick lets his consciousness float away, replaced with the warmth emitting beside him. It fills all his senses, and he’s
happy.