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“Any change?” Jason asked, approaching quietly.
“None,” Damian said. He stood in the doorway as though he wanted to block Jason going in. It wouldn't do much if Jason really wanted to get by. The kid was taller than used to be, but not that tall.
The protective instinct was understandable though, so Jason didn't snap. He nodded toward the heart of the ship. “Why don't you go work on the medbay blood scanner? It's still finicky, and Roy doesn't have time when he has to get the sensors working, too.”
Damian glared at the metal wall of the passage. “Was this the only rust bucket available?”
“She's fast,” Jason said, offended. “Which you should appreciate right now.”
Damian sneered, but he did pry himself away from the doorway, posture reluctant like the room behind him had a magnetic pull. Jason could feel Damian's eyes on the back of his neck as he left. The little room inside was dark, but visible by the hallway light. A sleek -- well, sleek-ish -- sitting area contained a small curved couch and table built into the wall. A sleeping bunk was tucked into an alcove overhead near the ceiling.
Jesus, had Damian just been sitting here in the dark for hours? There were reading lights in the sitting area he could have used. Jason had brought a book to read, but first he'd check on the patient.
Dick woke as Jason climbed the ladder, a vibration passing through the bunk's frame. The stars on the other side of the porthole illuminated Dick's shape, one hand rubbing groggily at his forehead. Jason should call Damian back, but part of him was pleased to be the first one Dick saw at his bedside. The primacy Damian gave himself in Dick's affairs rubbed Jason the wrong way, like Damian didn't even recognize anyone else as competition. Jason didn't want to examine why it bothered him so much, especially since that Batman and Robin bond was exactly why Jason had brought Damian on this rescue operation in the first place.
Dick's hand found Jason’s shoulder in the dark. “Jason,” he said, a little out of breath. He sounded like he was waiting for a call to battle. After days of watching a roofied, lazy Dick in the hands of people Jason really didn’t like, the hypervigilance was reassuring.
“Yeah,” Jason said, dropping his book on the sheets. He waited for Dick to let go, but while the grip relaxed, Dick held on. “We’re leaving Taulen space in about 20 min. You wanted me to let you know -- uh.”
Dick had gotten his other hand on Jason’s shoulder and pulled himself up, arms sliding easily around Jason’s back. Dick stopped there, breath against Jason’s neck, gone awkwardly still. Jason’s brain fought between half-remembered teenage daydreams and a more recent need to stay the fuck away.
“Ok,” Dick said like he'd done nothing unusual, “are we in comms range for the League yet?”
Jason didn't answer him. Dick could worry about the League mission he'd abandoned (been kidnapped from) later. There was no good reason for him to be this cuddly with Jason, of all people, and at least one bad reason.
“It hasn’t worn off, huh,” he said, annoyed. He thought about flying back into Taulen space to shoot a few people. Without thinking his hand came up to steady Dick gently against his shoulder blade. Even that little bit of touch seemed to relax Dick. Jason felt a spike of rage, imagining him on an alien warship, dosed to require touch to keep his heart from beating so hard it burst.
“No, it has,” Dick said, not very confidently. “I’m kind of -- touchy normally.”
“Not with me,” Jason pointed out. Dick laughed a little, puffing against Jason’s cheek. Dick craved contact like air but from people he loved and trusted.
“Maybe the daring rescue changed my mind.”
Jason’s cheeks grew hot. He'd had that daydream a time or two at age fifteen.
“Medbay,” he growled.
“You have a med bay on this thing?”
“Sure. We just don't have a medic.” He waved a hand at the light sensor, turning away to hide his blush.
“I can see how that would be a -- ” Dick trailed off.
Jason turned. With the lights on, Dick was staring at the built-in shelves lining the bunk, packed with books bungee-corded to keep them safe during maneuvers. Jason had sedated Dick before taking him off the Taulen ship to help him ride out the last of the drug, aptly named heart-racer, which meant he hadn't been coherent enough to notice much when they'd brought him in.
The books were worn from use and times when the bungee cords hadn’t been enough to keep them in place. Dick pulled away from Jason to trace a finger over the spines, a weird look on his face, very different from the forced “I’m fine” cheer of a moment ago.
“These are yours?” His eyebrows lifted. “Is this your bunk?”
Jason shifted nervously, bracing one am against the ceiling next to the little skylight, trying to appear casual, but he wasn't. His books were -- they were personal, and he couldn’t pretend they came with the ship. They were in English, except for a handful of titles in Latin, Greek, French, and a hidden one in Arabic that had a handwritten note from Talia inside. Jason had brought his current book from the galley intending to read until Dick woke up. Nobody was going to leave Dick unsupervised until they knew everything the Taulen had given him had cleared his system.
Dick picked up the book Jason had put on top of the sheets, opening the cover to reveal a stamp from a secondhand bookshop in Gotham. His expression grew more pained, and Jason's embarrassment kicked over into anger. He wasn't here for pity.
“Medbay,” he said again. He took the book but Dick snatched it back, leaning away from Jason to place it onto the bookshelf. Jason opened his mouth to protest, but Dick had put it where it belonged alphabetically, carefully sliding the bungee cord back into place.
“Don’t suck up,” Jason said.
“How is putting a book back sucking up?”
Jason glared. He didn't know what to call it. Being accommodating. “You’ve never put anything back where it belongs in your life.”
“Maybe I don't at home, but tidiness in the field matters.”
“What, mess is safe and homey for you?”
“A little clutter, yeah. Not messy.”
Jason rolled his eyes. He'd seen Dick's apartment. “Maybe I was planning to read it, huh?”
“Oh.” Dick turned like he was going to get it off the shelf. Jason put a hand on his chest, frowning when Dick stopped dead. He looked like it was taking a lot of control not to fold around Jason's touch, to get as much contact as possible. Under Jason's fingers, Dick's heart beat fiercely against his skin.
Jason glared. Dick had the decency to look guilty.
“It is wearing off. This isn't as bad as it was.” Dick's happy expression faltered. “I think.”
Of course he wasn't sure. They'd given him something on top of the heart-racer to make him groggy and docile, more willing to give in to the incentive the heart-racer created. Jason got his hands around Dick's arm, trying to touch as much skin as possible. Maybe he was imagining it, but he thought he could feel Dick's pulse slow.
“We could hold hands,” Dick said, a little of the playfulness creeping back in.
“Is this happy shit a side effect or a weirdly chipper version of the impervious Bat face?” Dick could do the non-chipper version too. Jason was a lot more used to that.
Dick's expression went stilted.
Jason tightened his grip. Dick was usually better at hiding when he was deciding whether to lie to you. This is why the being accommodating drove Jason nuts. He knew Dick's bullshit flags.
“They told me their ship was untrackable in their home system," Dick said. "Spatial anomalies."
"Of course, they'd say that."
"I know. I know. It was probably the drugs, but," he took a breath, expression twisting, "I believed them."
Jason didn't know what to do with that. He knew that feeling, visceral and horrifying, watching a timer tick down and knowing that your life was over and you were alone. That no one was coming to rescue you.
Dick shoved him toward the ladder, flipping back the blanket to follow him. Jason descended slowly, still upset and not knowing how steady Dick was going to be. Dick didn't hesitate, coming down frontways like an idiot, and so he ended up bracketed by Jason's body on the ladder like a safety cage.
Dick's proximity threw Jason off balance. It was Dick, not Bruce, who was best at bulldozing past Jason's control like it had never been there. Like now: Dick moving confidently, his chest warm against Jason's, the hint of a smile on his face as he watched his feet on the ladder. The expression belonged on Nightwing dancing across rooftops, not pressed against Jason in a cramped bunk after a bunch of degenerate pirates had drugged him to need touch to live. Jason couldn't tell if it was the mask back in place or relief at the rescue.
Dick was a lot easier to deal with when Dick was the one Jason was angry with.
**
“Dami?” Dick said, startled. “You weren't -- you were on Earth.”
Dick walked with one hand on the wall, though that might not be the drugs. The ship's gravity and inertial dampening system wasn't up to date, and the ship moved unexpectedly (or seemed to) whenever the system made adjustments.
“Richard,” Damian said, laser focus shifting abruptly, as though he wasn't on the floor half-inside an access panel. He’d plugged a Bat-issue tablet into the ship's medical AI, and he'd been grumbling the entire trip about whether it was worthy of treating Richard Grayson, never mind the technology was literally a century ahead of anything on Earth. Jason hadn't taken offense. It had kept the kid busy when he'd needed something to do besides worry about Dick.
Dick did look a lot better than when Jason had brought him on board. His skin had lost its unnatural flush, and he looked comfortable in a pair of Roy's pajamas. The Taulen hadn't dressed him in anything offensive, nothing Leia-bikini style, but the clothes had been made to show off, brightly colored and edged in gold. It had been a good look for Dick, and Jason and Damian had shoved all of it into the recycler with relish as soon as they'd had the chance.
Damian climbed to his feet, pulling at Dick's arm to examine the silver monitor bracelet around his wrist. He had a streak of grease on his face and was mostly knees and elbows, gangly with his first growth spurt. Like a puppy, he had the hands and shoulders that promised bulk but none of the rest of him had caught up.
“Everyone on this ship came from Earth,” Damian said, hooking the bracelet up to the system. “Todd returned when you were taken.”
“Everyone?” Dick said. He was looking at the bracelet with a bemused expression. He hadn't noticed it was there.
“Todd's team, obviously.” The tablet beeped. Damian frowned at it before he whipped around to glare at Jason. “You said it would wear off!”
“I didn't say shit,” Jason said. “Give him a hug before his heart explodes.”
“I'm not -- ” Dick started, but Damian cut him off, engulfing Dick in his albatross wingspan.
“How much touch is required?” Damian grumbled into Dick's hair. “Was Todd inadequate?”
Even though Damian had grown, it was still like being growled at by a puppy, and Jason laughed. It was Dick who looked embarrassed, pulling back gently. He took the tablet from Damian, angling the screen away from anyone else's view.
The back of Jason's neck prickled uneasily.
“Damian,” he said, “Roy needs help getting those sensors calibrated to detect pursuit.”
“Pursuit?” Dick said.
“You can hand Harper his wrenches, Todd.”
“Damian,” Jason said. He met Damian's eyes trying to put as much Don't make this an issue into it as he could.
Damian looked like he was struggling with a few different reactions. He went a little pale. “Alright,” he said crisply. “Richard, let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah,” Dick said, face twisting unhappily. He clearly felt bad about sending Damian out.
Jason closed the door behind Damian before Dick could decide Damian's feelings were more important than his own. He flipped the lock and leaned casually against the frame.
“You want the full body scan?” he asked, inspecting his fingernails.
Dick didn't say anything for a moment, then, “Yeah.”
Jason took a breath. “Do you know --”
“No, I -- I don't remember. They said they didn't -- that they wouldn't -- because their goals were different somehow. But I was drugged, and they lied about their untrackable ships, so I don't -- ” Dick ran his hand over his face.
They hadn't lied about their untrackable ships, but Jason didn't want to open up that discussion yet. He could hear his own teeth grinding, so all he said was, “Ok.”
He flipped down the cot from where it had been hidden in the wall to make room in the small bay. Dick climbed on like he was trying make a good example for whoever came next, like it was all routine. Jason's boots clanged against the floor grating. Dick didn't make a sound. They needed to get him some shoes, make him look like an equal member of the crew instead of like he'd found new keepers with worse taste in harem outfits. Maybe Dick didn't care, but it would make Jason less anxious.
“Do I need to -- ” Dick touched his shirt.
“No,” Jason said.
Dick lay down with methodical determination like he wouldn't allow himself the luxury of being upset. The scanner started up. Dick put his hand out, eyes on the ceiling, and Jason took it. He meant to say something -- about the drug or anything at all -- but he didn't, and they waited in silence.
When the results came up, Jason moved to angle the screen towards Dick, carefully not looking at it.
“You can read it,” Dick said. He sat up, letting go of Jason’s hand. “I mean, would you please read it.”
Luckily -- and why the fuck was this lucky -- the Outlaws had transported refugees before and so Jason knew how to read the scans for signs of recent sexual activity, rough or otherwise. He flipped impatiently through the screens, hand shaking, his other hand shoved under his arm, trying to match Dick's rigid professionalism. He wished stupidly that he was still holding Dick's hand, but Jason had been right before -- they didn't have that kind of relationship.
“You're… you're good,” Jason said, a knot in his stomach dissolving. “All clear.”
Dick put his face in his hands, tension releasing all along his back.
Jason held his hand out, uncertain, and Dick took it. His skin was washed out, his eyes tired, but he looked like he was focusing on the room. Jason got up on the cot, groaning a little to express his reluctance. He pressed his shoulder against Dick's, hands still clasped.
Dick lifted an eyebrow. He looked as puzzled as he had when he'd realized he was in Jason's bunk. Jason couldn't really explain that choice either.
“I'm only doing this out of medical necessity,” he said.
“Ok,” Dick said. His gaze drifted to their clasped hands, and he thought for a moment. “Thanks. For coming to get me.”
Jason shrugged uncomfortably. He'd meant to pin the credit for the rescue on Damian, but it warmed something in his chest to hear Dick's thanks. The guy drove him nuts, but Jason wasn't going to give him up to humanoid traffickers from outer space. And it was Jason who'd gotten him back. Not Bruce or Damian or Tim.
“Shut up,” he muttered. “Do you want to hear the update on the mission you ditched or not?”
“Ditched?” Dick protested. But his eyes were sharp and interested, Nightwing's eyes.
Which was how Jason knew he wouldn't be able to convince Dick to go back to earth, that instead Jason would be taking him right back to the middle of the shitshow mission the Lanterns had brought him in on. And Jason was going too, because someone had to watch out for unexpected alien assholes looking to take what they wanted.
Red Hood rolled his eyes and started to tell Nightwing what he'd missed. He didn't let go of Nightwing's hand, though, for medical reasons.