Chapter Text
“Easy, Babybird, don’t move.”
The very first instinct that anyone has when told to not move, is to absolutely one hundred percent immediately move.
Tim launched up to his feet, ready to fight whatever threat was coming at him, except was never on the ground to begin with and his back was barely two inches above the bed before he was crashing back down onto it, the whole world exploding around him.
He shuddered, trying and failing to suppress a whimper, then stilled all at once because someone was touching his hair.
When Tim blinked, the blurs refused to refine into anything more than meaningless shapes, and when he blinked again it still became no clearer.
Tim curled up, burrowing into his blankets, only to still once more because holy fuck that hurt.
“Easy, shh, easy,”
When Tim heard someone click their tongue, Tim’s hand shot up, already flipping Damian off before he really registered that Damian was there at all.
There was a loud chuckle then, one that sounded broken somehow.
Tim’s eyes stung, his whole body shuddering as he tried to stretch out once more.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
It was like there was iron coating Tim’s tongue, his words barely above a croaked whisper, but Dick’s warm smile wasn’t warm at all but forced and that meant that something was worrying Dick and Tim didn’t want Dick to be worried about anything, he had more than enough things on his plate at any given time.
“Where’s Jason?” Tim asked. “Is he-”
Tim coughed, pain lancing through him.
“Right here, Drakeyboy,” Jason’s voice swirled amongst the rest of the world. “And the Old Man’s here too.”
There was a grunt then, Bruce. But if Bruce was struggling with his words at the moment that meant that something really was wrong. Seeing as each of his brothers were either standing beside the bed he laid on or sounded like there were sitting close by, that meant that they were here for him.
Tim took stock of his own body and memories of his side burning crashed back into him, memories of reaching out towards Nightwing, memories of genuinely thinking that he wasn’t going to make it this time.
Tim bit his lip hard but even that wasn’t enough to silence his broken sob.
“Easy, easy, just rest,” Dick said.
There were too many people surrounding him. He knew they were worried, he knew they wanted the best for him, but there was simply too many and it was like he was being suffocated.
“Go.”
“Drake,” Damian said.
“Go, please, need… Need you all to go.”
He didn’t want to cry in front of them but everything was hurting and he was back in this damn room again and he really really really just needed them to go.
“Lad,” Bruce said, his own voice rough.
“I’m okay.” Tim said. “Just need…”
He readjusted, trying his best not to wince.
“Space?” Jason finished for him.
Tim nodded, those damn tears threatening to spill over fully whether or not he wanted them to.
“Alright,” Jason said. “You heard Timmers, out.”
While he should be grateful when he heard shoes against the ground, panic seized his heart because they were leaving, he was going to be alone, he didn’t want to be alone, please don’t make him be alone.
A door clicked shut and Tim let off a wrenching sob because everyone always leaves, he will always be alone, now and forever.
“Hey hey,”
Tim’s eyes snapped open all at once, relief and shame all bubbling up into one fucked up mess of Timothy Jackson Drake. He was shaking, not so much as from the pain and medications but because Dick was there, he was here, Tim wasn’t alone, not anymore.
Dick hushed him with a kiss to the temple and it was everything.
“I’m sorry.” Tim croaked.
“Tim, it’s okay,”
“I’m sorry,” He said again, tears burning hot. “I tried, I swear, I tried to tell you this time, I tried but it was like I couldn’t speak and I, Dick, I-”
“Bud, breathe, I’ve got you.”
Tim only found himself crying harder as familiar fingers carded through his hair once more. He was being ridiculous, he knew he was, but even through the haze of medication everything hurt and he just wanted it to stop, he needed it to stop.
“I’m sorry.” Tim sobbed. “I tried, please, I tried.”
“I know, I know, it’s okay, shh, you’re okay. You did so well, Timmy, easy, you’re okay.”
Tim had tried to bring attention to the pain this time but maybe that was where he had gone wrong. If he had simply ignored it and waited for Dick to be done with the more deserving civilians, maybe Tim would have never passed out like that. He could have handled it by himself, like he always does.
And now he was stuck in this room.
Again.
The bed dipped, Dick perching on the edge of it.
“Tim, it’s okay, your body has been through a lot but you’re okay.”
Dick’s voice sounded wrong, not just because Tim’s head was spinning but it was almost like Dick himself had been hollowed out, leaving nothing more than a false smile and even more fake assurances.
“I tried,” Tim said. “I’m sorry, I should have never tried.”
“What? No, no, Tim, no. You did good, okay? You did so good.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?” Tim demanded. “Like I’m some, some…”
“Tim, you shouldn’t get yourself all worked up, just rest and-”
“Worked up?” Tim scoffed. “I got shot, Dick, but I know how this goes. I’m going to have to stay here, no matter how many times I beg to go home, and I’m going to get an infection and the meds won’t work and I won’t be able to sleep and I won’t be able to do anything for myself at all but you guys are going to keep saying that it’s fine but it’s not fine and it never will be because all I ever do is mess things up.”
At last the fake smile slipped from Dick’s face but the look of pure misery didn’t make Tim feel any better either.
“I tried this time.” Tim said, voice wavering. “I really tried.”
And it still wasn’t enough.
He didn’t need to see the two bags of blood products to know just how much he’d lost, he didn’t need to feel the burning in his abdomen to know he’d had surgery, adding a new scar to his collection. He didn’t need to see these damn walls, those too bright lights, he didn’t need to smell the sting of antiseptic on the air to know that even though Tim had tried to ask for help this time, he was always going to be stuck in this fucking room for all of eternity.
“Just go, Dick.” Tim said. “I… I need to be alone.”
“No.”
“Dick,”
“No.” Dick said firmly. “I’m not leaving. If you want Bruce instead, okay. If you want Jason, I’ll get him. Hell, if you want Damian to be by your side to make sure you’re never alone, I’ll bring him right back to you. But you’re not going to be alone, Tim.”
“But… But it’s all I-”
Before he could even get the word deserve out, he stopped himself.
Tim did deserve to be taken care of. He deserved to be within these hospital walls not just because he didn’t belong anywhere else, but because right now he needed treatment and as soon as that treatment was done he was going to go home.
Nightwing had not abandoned Tim’s side simply because Tim was not worth the effort of saving, it had been Tim himself who had assured Nightwing that he was okay for now and even when Nightwing had moved away, he had still checked in on Tim multiple times.
The tears were still streaming down his face no matter how hard he tried to stop them but Dick didn’t seem to mind, even going so far as to cup Tim’s cheek and brush some away.
“I tried.” Tim said. “I tried to tell you, please, I tried to tell you.”
“I know, I know Sweetheart and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
But even as Tim sobbed, he knew that Nightwing had done all that he could have. He’d followed his training in a stressful situation, he had triaged each victim, had had to make the impossible choice of stopping CPR on that police officer to instead save someone else.
Tim might have gone through hell, his side still a blazing fire, but Dick had too.
“I’m sorry,” Tim said, balling his shaking fists.
“I’m sorry, this is my fault,” Dick said, looking more lost than he had in a long time. “I should have never left your side, I’d known you were badly hurt but I-”
Tim was already shaking his head.
“Can you just hold me?” He rasped. “Please, I, this… Everything feels wrong.”
Instead of complaining that Tim is wasting his time, or saying that Tim’s too old to be held, Dick laid down fully on the bed beside him amongst the mess of wires and tubing.
Tim couldn’t hold back the sob, his whole body shuddering from pain and fear, but Dick was right there to hush him, readjusting the both of them until Tim was safely held against Dick’s chest.
Burying his head into Tim’s shirt, Tim only found himself crying harder.
He didn’t want to be here; it was too bright, too loud, too much, and he’d thought that by calling out to Dick the moment things had felt different he could have avoided coming to this hospital at all even though he’d known even then that that was impossible.
Dick hushed him, a warm hand running up and down the ridges of Tim’s back, a kiss pressing against the top of his head.
“I’ve got you,” Dick murmured. “I’ve got you now, you’re okay.”
“I called out.” Tim sobbed.
Dick’s entire body stiffened but Tim did not give him time to gather his thoughts before he was pressing in closer to his big brother.
“And you’re here.” Tim said. “You’re not going away. I’m not going to be alone.”
Dick swallowed roughly, the hand on Tim’s back at last moving once more.
“Yeah.” Dick managed. “I’m… I’m not going anywhere, Babybird, I’ve got you.”
The haze of sleep nearly washed the pain away, the half reality of being half awake making everything distant and numb.
Tim nearly let himself slip fully back into the darkness, needing just another minute, another five, another hour, to sleep before he had to get up and go to school except the mere absurdity of the thought of going to school at all woke him up fully.
It only took a second to reorientate himself, those damn ceiling lights impossible to forget after so many admissions at Gotham General, but just as quickly as he’d realised where he was he realised that something was wrong.
Tim’s side was burning, even hotter than those seconds after the bullet had pierced his flesh.
His hand hovered above the bandages, not wanting to touch it but equally unable to ignore the lava that was sinking deep into his flesh.
Something was wrong.
“Dick?”
Tim’s voice was little more than a rasp.
“Dick, are you, are you there?”
Blinking did nothing to clear the blur of tears.
“Dick, please.”
He shouldn’t bring attention to the pain, he shouldn’t, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Tim just needed to get over himself and get on with it.
“Dick, it hurts.”
Tim tried to sit up but white hot pain forced him back down again, his whole world pulsing between nothingness and the pain.
Dick was not here, no one was, no one ever had been.
Tim was alone, just like he deserved to be.
No.
No, Tim could not be alone, he was never alone, not anymore.
“Dick.” Tim tried again.
Tim’s every word was nothing but a whisper on the wind and yet he tried again.
“Dick.”
It burned, all of it burned, he was burning too.
“Dick.”
He needed help, he needed to tell someone that something had changed, he deserved to have someone know that he wasn’t okay.
“Dick.”
A hand clasped his own and Tim was unable to hold back the sob.
“I’m here,” Dick said. “I’m right here.”
“Burns.”
“Okay, okay, shh, you’re okay, Jason’s getting help, it’s okay.”
Familiar fingers carded through Tim’s hair and all he could do was sob harder because Dick was here, he was right here, and that meant everything was going to be okay.
Tim’s legs kicked out, the pain impossibly growing, but Dick soothed him through it, promising him that everything was going to be alright.
There were other victims, other innocent people that had been gunned down alongside him, Nightwing needed to go to them.
Except they weren’t at that café anymore and this wasn’t Nightwing by his side but Dick.
“Easy, easy, just hold on, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Make it stop.” Tim begged. “Please, make it stop.”
The world was darkening and Dick too was fading into the nothingness but Tim didn’t want him to go, he never wanted him to go.
There were voices then, swirling all around him, unfamiliar hands touching him.
Tim’s eyes burned, tears streaming down his face, and yet Dick still stayed right there with him, Dick’s voice the only one he recognised amongst the rest.
For a moment there was a break in the voices as if they were waiting for a reply and Tim only found himself crying harder because he didn’t know what they wanted from him.
“Where does it hurt, Babybird?” Dick asked gently, a thumb drawing circles on the back of Tim’s hand.
Everywhere.
Nowhere.
Maybe Tim’s entire existence had only ever been pain.
“Dick.”
“I know, I know Sweetheart, I’m right here, can you tell me where it hurts?”
Tim’s hand hovered above his side, not daring to actually touch it.
“You’re doing so good, so good, we’re going to make it all okay again, just hold on.”
“I called out.” Tim said.
“I know, you did, I’m so proud.”
“I called out.” Tim said again, his own words fuzzy.
Tim had called out and Dick had come for him and Dick was going to make everything okay again.
The darkness was growing ever darker, the heat in his side exploding, but Tim couldn’t bring himself to care because his big brother was going to be right there beside him the whole time.
“Hey, uh, Dick?”
“What’s up Timmy?”
Tim readjusted in his seat, passing his coffee cup from hand to hand. He bit his lip, picking at the label on the side of it instead.
“Tim? Is everything feeling alright?”
It took a second for Tim to realise that Dick thought he was in pain or something but by the time Tim shook his head, Dick looked dubious.
“I’m fine.” Tim said instead. “I just…”
For some reason, it was impossible to gather his words and yet Dick gave him all the time in the world to do just that.
There was still a long line waiting to order, most of the tables filled around them. Tim’s skin itched, checking each and every patron, wanting to figure out who could possible have a gun hidden in their clothes or bags, his heart stuttering when he saw a woman stick a hand into her purse only for her to be taking out her phone instead.
Tim ducked his head low, scratching at the label.
“Tim.” Dick said. “We’re safe here.”
“I know that.” Tim said all too quickly.
He sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the pull in his side. All things considered, his wound was healing well now that they’d fully managed to get the subsequent infection under control.
Tim had been home for five days now and while it was still a little difficult to walk, he was beyond glad to be out of that damn hospital room.
“I just wanted to say thanks, I guess.”
“What for?”
Tim shrugged.
“You know. For everything.”
“Tim,”
“Dick, can I just… Talk? For a sec? I, uh, don’t think I’ll be able to get it all out otherwise.”
Dick blinked slowly. He took a long drink from his own cup before finally nodding for Tim to go ahead.
Even with the permission, it was an eternity before Tim actually managed to say anything at all.
“All my life, I felt like I was nothing more than a burden. I know my parents weren’t nearly as bad as some people’s, god knows I had it far better than Jason ever did, but it always felt like I couldn’t do anything right. I’d talk to much, or I’d get sick at a Gala, no matter what I did it was never enough.”
He waited for Dick to say something but he only sipped on his drink.
“Every time I complained about anything, or asked for help, they’d say that I was useless, or that surely I was old enough to do it by myself. And they were right, of course I could do anything I needed to by myself.”
Tim readjusted, his leg bouncing. He forced it to still, remembering his mother’s voice in his ear. Then, remembering Bruce’s voice instead, Tim let his leg do what it needed to do.
“And being independent was great,” Tim said. “It really was, I got to do anything I wanted to at any time. It was… Great.”
He was alone, he was so alone, everyone always leaves, everyone always leaves and it was all his fault.
“But I… Sometimes I’d miss them, you know? I’d scrape my knee, or get food poisoning or whatever, and while I knew they had important work they had to be doing, I’d… I’d want them to be there. With me.”
It was selfish and childish and he didn’t deserve it, he hadn’t earned their time because he was nothing except a useless waste of money and resources.
Tim swallowed roughly, his stomach turning.
“I’d call out for them. Even when I knew they were halfway across the world.”
Dick moved slow, setting his cup fully down onto the table. Dick reached out, taking one of Tim’s hands into his own and it was only then that Tim registered that it was trembling.
"And it was fine.” Tim said quickly. “It was, they were busy, I get it, it’s not their fault.”
He needed to shut up. He needed to shut up, right now, and let Dick get back to whatever it was Dick was meant to be doing right now. Tim was wasting his time, just like how Tim wasted everyone’s times.
“But I, it’s just, I just… I just wanted them to be there. But they weren’t.”
Tim’s eyes stung which was stupid and he was stupid but he didn’t want to call himself stupid, he didn’t.
He knew that he was smart, he knew that he was brave, he knew that he was a little shit. He knew that he was worthy of love, of attention, of all of it, just like how he knew that his parents should have never treated him like he was something to be disposed of when their dream of a perfect child had been shattered once they realised what raising a kid was really like.
“I’m sorry I’m rambling, I just,” Tim’s lip wobbled.
He tried to refocus, the world starting to swirl, and Dick’s reassuring squeeze of his hand gave him something to latch onto.
“All this to say, I realised that no matter how much I called out to them, they’d never come. And that’s not their fault. It’s just… Who they are. But I deserve better than that. I do.”
Tim breathed out hard and fast, his whole body shuddering with the effort.
Dick’s blink was slow, as if waiting for Tim to continue but there was nothing else Tim could possibly say. After an eternity, Dick spoke.
“You do deserve better.”
Tim’s elation disappeared the moment he registered the tiredness in Dick’s voice. Something was wrong; Tim had overstepped somehow, he’d messed up and now Dick was going to stand up and walk away because Tim was an ungrateful little-
“You deserve better than me, too.”
It was Tim’s turn to stare, Dick’s words making absolutely no sense.
“You needed me and I walked away.”
“What? No? No, Dick, you didn’t, you were just trying to help.”
“You were bleeding out and I walked away.”
“I was stable,” Tim said. “There was no way you could have known the bullet would nick an artery when I moved wrong.”
“You nearly died and it was all my fault.”
“Dick.” Tim said firmly. “No.”
Dick wasn’t looking at Tim anymore but at the his hands on the table and Tim had to wonder if he too saw the red that had once stained them.
“You were there for me,” Tim said. “Sure, you didn’t know immediately, but I saw the footage. The moment you saw me, you went straight to me and you saved me.”
“Everyone always dies.” Dick whispered.
Everyone always leaves.
But Dick did not leave.
And Tim did not die.
Tim readjusted, his own hand shooting out and clutching onto Dick’s other.
“No. You were there to save me, and you’re here now. We’re here now. Everything’s okay, Dick, because I called out to you and you were there and we’re here now.”
“We’re…” Dick swallowed roughly. “We’re here now.”
“And that means everything is okay.”
“Everything is okay.”
Dick’s voice had strengthened, if only a little, and Tim in turn felt stronger too.
“I wanted to thank you. For being there, when I needed you the most.”
“I wanted to thank you too.” Dick said. “For feeling like you could depend on me like that.”
“Always.” Tim said. “You’re my brother.”
Dick’s smile was warm and familiar and only a little tired.
“You know,” Dick said. “I’m pretty sure your coffee’s gone cold. Want another one?”
Tim met Dick’s eye, grabbed his cup, downed the entire thing. Holy fuck it really was stone cold but Tim couldn’t even bring himself to care because Dick was smiling a little wider now as if Tim himself had scowled at the coolness.
Slamming the empty cup on the table, Tim stole Dick’s cup and downed the last of it too.
“Now more coffee.” Tim said. “It’s been a long week.”