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Of all the things Jason expected to see on his floor when he arrived back at his apartment at one in the morning on Christmas Eve night, a passed-out Nightwing was…
Well, it wasn’t really all that surprising, actually. Just annoying.
With a bit of a groan, Jason considered just calling the Replacement to come pick the pretty bird up and going to sleep, but he really didn’t want anyone else in his home. And if Dick died or something, that would be a whole other mess he didn’t want to deal with. So he threw his helmet off and worked on flipping Dick over to figure out what made him pass out. There was no puddle of blood, which was far scarier than if there were. And then Jason had to stop and think about how fucked up that was, and then he found the cut on Dick’s arm.
It was shallow. Maybe two inches long. But since Jason couldn’t find any other major injuries on Dick’s body, it was either internal bleeding or some kind of poison in the knife, neither of which were good options. Fuck.
A few slaps to the cheek got Dick half-awake and blinking in confusion at Jason, who was equal parts relieved and furious. “What’re you…”
“This is my apartment, Sleeping Beauty. You’re the one who needs to explain himself.”
“I…” Dick frowned, like thinking was hurting him. He tried to sit up, grimacing, until Jason pushed him back down. “I don’ feel good.”
“No shit.” Jason pushed his hand through his hair. “You don’t remember what happened?”
Dick screwed his face up again, then whimpered pitifully. “Hurts.”
“What hurts?”
“Me.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Okay. Okay, lemme just- lemme call Alfred, okay? Jesus, I call the man on Christmas just to tell him one of his birds’s fucked up. He’s gonna hate me. And it’s your fault.”
Dick mumbled something in response and Jason shushed him, turning to his phone.
“Hi, uh, Alfred? Yeah. Yeah, you too. Um. Sorry to- well. Dick’s here and I think he’s poisoned? Or something? I dunno. He was passed out when I found him and now he says he feels sick. There’s a cut on his arm- uh. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. Give me...give me twenty minutes. Yeah. Thanks. Bye, Alf.”
Dick had taken Jason’s free hand hostage and was pressing it to his forehead, which was way too warm and damnit, Jason should have checked that first.
“Your hand’s nice and cold,” Dick explained when Jason gave him a look, but it sounded more like “Ur’and’s nice’n’col.”
It was pathetic.
“Okay, Dickie. I’m gonna take you to the- I’m gonna take you home, okay?”
“Home,” Dick agreed. He sat up and immediately fell headfirst into Jason’s lap.
This would not be easy.
-
“I do wish it were better circumstances to bring you here for the holidays,” Alfred mused, pouring a cup of Jason’s favorite tea. The guy was way, way too good to him, always had been.
“Yeah, well,” Jason said lamely. He didn’t exactly want to say they’re still all a bunch of pricks and I’m not spending my Christmas with one big asshole and three smaller assholes.
“I’m sure you’re quite aware that-”
“-that I’m always welcome. Yeah, I know.” He took a sip of tea. Alfred hadn’t even told Bruce he was here. Jason did not deserve Alfred.
“More than welcome, Master Jason.”
Jason made a little Tt sound and looked towards the living room where Alfred had moved Dick. ( That blasted cave is far too drafty, he said.) “When do you think he’ll wake up?”
“Soon, I hope. It would pain me to see him miss Christmas morning. He loves to enjoy time with his family on Christmas.” Alfred gave Jason a pointed look, and Jason had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Somehow Alfred’s passive-aggression managed to be more cutting than the aggressive-aggression of everyone else in this damn family.
“I’ll go check on him,” he said instead, and took his cup of tea into the living room.
The tree was magnificent, just like he always remembered. Huge and sparkling with probably hundreds of ornaments. Piles of presents sitting underneath, some beautifully wrapped by Alfred’s hand and some truly garbage wrapping jobs still visible even though they were hidden in the back. Those ones were either Bruce’s or Dick’s. Jason hoped they were Bruce’s.
Dick was laid on a couch, tucked in under a warm blanket as he slept off the poison with the help of Alfred’s antidote. Jason’s eyes drifted over him to the grand fireplace, decked out with garland and huge stockings embroidered with the names of the family members: Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Jason-
Jason?
Jason’s stocking was still there. Right in the middle, between Dick’s and Tim’s, like it had been there the whole season, like it belonged there, like he was just one of the kids, like he never-
“Did’ya think we’d take it down or somethin’?” Dick’s speech was still a little slurred, but much better than it had been.
“Hey Dickie,” Jason said, moving to sit next to Dick’s feet on the couch.
“Hey.”
“You were pretty fucked.”
“Yeah.” Dick smiled and stretched. “I feel better now.”
“Good.”
Dick took the glass of water from the end table, and Jason sipped his tea.
“We never took it down, Jase,” Dick said softly. “We never would.”
“You got presents for a dead kid. Wow. That’s somethin’ else.” Jason swallowed the weird, broken laugh that tried to come out. He sounded sort of choked. Felt sort of choked. He wasn’t... anticipating this.
Dick gave a little gasp. “That reminds me.” He searched around in the blankets, smiling when he found whatever he was looking for and pulled a thin, rectangular wrapped gift from by his feet. “This is why I was near your apartment. Had to bring you your gift.”
“You got me a present.”
Really, Jason should have told the Replacement and called it a night. This whole making sure Dick didn’t die thing was causing way too many emotions and Jason wanted to deal with exactly none of them.
“Well, yeah. You’re family.”
“Oh.”
It was horribly embarrassing. Oh. What a dumb response.
At least he wasn’t crying , because he kind of felt like it. Especially when Dick shifted over to curl against him, head on his shoulder, and draped his blankets across both of them.
“Will you stay?” Dick asked, plaintive.
“Dick...” Jason surprised himself at how gentle his voice sounded.
“Please? It would...we’d all be so happy. We miss you.”
Jason opened his mouth, then sighed and closed it again, looking at the stocking again. “I don’t…”
“Just for breakfast?”
His ornaments were still on the tree, too, because this was their family tree and not the totally picture-perfect one looming in the grand entryway. This one had little clay birds and baubles painted with superhero logos and little models of Gotham buildings and- and the ones with each of their earliest school pictures in them. Including Jason’s. Jason in sixth grade with his braces and his happy face.
“...fine. Fine. Just for breakfast.”
Dick grinned. “Really?”
“Go back to sleep before I change my mind.” He leaned further back into the couch and closed his eyes. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jay.” Dick rested his head back on Jason’s shoulder.
“Wait. Dick?”
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t...uh...I didn’t get any...presents. For anyone.”
“You’re the present,” Dick said, without pause.
And fuck, if this pattern of events continued, Jason would be sobbing by noon.