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He must really be desperate if he’s coming to me for help . Jason thought with a smug smile as he accepted the call.
“So which little bird did you lose today, B?”
“ Uh, not B ,” the tentative voice of Tim Drake replied. “ It’s Tim.”
“Well that certainly explains it,” Jason drawled, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and taking a swig of beer despite the fact that he was only nineteen. Although, fuck you Dick, I was dead for two eyars so technically I am legal.
“ Listen, Jason, we really need your help. ”
“I’m the family fuck up, kid,” Jason replied, picking up the TV remote and clicking aimlessly through the channels. “What happened, B go missing?”
“ Yeah, and- ”
“Then why aren’t you on the phone with the golden boy?” Jason asked, settling on a cooking show and carelessly tossing the remote aside because otherwise, he’d never settle on something to play for background noise. “He’s B’s most loyal attack dog, isn’t he? Where’s he at?”
“ Taken along with Bruce, ” Tim replied. “ It was at a gala. We don’t know who attacked or what they want. They police are here at the manor so Damian and I can’t do anything. ”
Well shit.
“Can’t they wiggle their way out on their own?” Jason asked. “They’re the dynamic duo, remember?”
Tim sighed. “ They’re civilian, Jason, ” he replied. “ They can’t. Please, we’re...they sent a picture. And it’s bad. The police won’t let us leave, you’re the only one we can rely on right now .”
“So you want me to save the asshole who let me die and the asshole who didn’t give a shit about me and only came around to scream at Bruce?”
Tim sighed again. He sounded tired and Jason almost felt guilty.
Almost.
“ Yes ,” Tim replied honestly. “ Please, Jason. If you don’t, they might die. Both of them. ”
“And that would be bad?” Jason asked, eyebrow raised even as he got to his feet and turned the TV off, heading back to his bedroom to change. “How long have they been captive?”
“ A week ,” Tim replied. Jason opened his mouth to comment but Tim - as if sensing it - cut him off. “ I tried to call you, Jason. You didn’t answer. ”
Jason winced because, right. He had seen those calls but he’d ignored them because it was Tim.
“That was your cell?” he asked.
“ I figured you’d answer if it was Bruce’s, ” Tim replied. “ So are you going to help? ”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jason replied. “What can you tell me about the people who took them?”
“ They were hired, but we don’t know by who, ” Tim began. “ They were damn good at their job, definitely professional. They went for Dick first, knowing they could control Bruce that way. Then they dragged them off into a black van. ”
“License plate?”
“ I’ll text it to you. ”
“Any injuries I should know about?”
“ They shot Dick in the leg and broke his arm ,” Tim replied. “ Bruce might’ve been given a concussion but it’s hard to know with him. ”
Jason snorted. “Yeah, tell me about it,” he muttered. “Alright, I’ll search the license plate and do my best.” after a brief moment of hesitation, he added, “Stay safe.”
“ You too, Jason .”
…………….
Finding the men was child’s play.
They were working out of a warehouse - really? So unoriginal - and their van was laughably easy to track. So after scoping the place out and finding the best entrance, Jason burst in.
The men in the room didn’t have time to draw their guns before their bodies were riddled with bullets and crumpled on the ground. Jason only left one alive and that was just for information.
“Please, I don’t know anything, I swear!” he shouted, holding up his hands. Jason rolled his eyes, scrunching up his nose under the hood when he realized the man had fucking pissed himself.
“Calm down you shit,” he grumbled, adjusting his hold on the front of the man’s shirt. “I’m here for Wayne and his kid. Where are they?”
“B-basement!” the man cried out. “Please don’t kill me! I was just doing as I was told! I’m not in charge!”
Jason tilted his head to the side. “Oh?” he asked. “And who were you hired by?”
“I can’t say!” the man sobbed. “Please, I don’t know! He only used an email! We never saw or even heard from him! Please!”
Jason sighed and dropped the man to the ground, kicking him in the crotch before turning and strolling towards the staircase.
…………..
He was glad he was wearing a helmet because otherwise he probably would have thrown up as soon as he walked into the basement. The walls and floor were cement, splattered with blood and piss and even though his helmet helped, Jason still scrunched up his nose in disgust.
“Jason?”
He turned his head, night vision letting him easily see Bruce seated in the corner of the basement, a body clutched in his arms.
Dick’s body.
Jason suddenly felt sick as a sudden feeling of wrongness flooded his veins as he turned and walked towards them.
Dick’s arm was clearly broken, tucked between his stomach and Bruce’s body to prevent anyone from grabbing and yanking it.
Making it worse.
There was a piece of Bruce’s shirt ripped off and wrapped around Dick’s thigh, the makeshift bandaged stained with dried blood.
“Tim called me,” Jason explained when he got closer, kneeling down and noting that Bruce seemed to be protecting Dick.
Protecting him from Jason.
Did...did Bruce think Jason was the one who did this?
“Where is he?” Bruce asked.
“He and the demon brat are under police watch at the manor,” Jason replied. “Timbo called me from your cell.” Jason swallowed thickly as he whispered, “He’d been calling me for a week but I...I didn’t know. I was ignoring him, I-”
Bruce grunted, cutting him off. “Can you call the police?” he asked gently. Jason recognized it as the voice Bruce used when helping traumatized children. While it would have insulted him, any other time, he was thankful for it now. It was grounding.
Yeah, yeagh,” Jason replied, already sending the tip.
“And an ambulance?”
He froze, looking up at Bruce. “Ambulance?”
“Dick,” Bruce murmured, stroking his hand over Dick’s hair, drawing to Jason’s attention the fact that Dick was limp with his forehead pressed against Bruce’s shoulder.
The acrobat did not reply.
Jason felt sick. “Is he dead?” he asked.
Bruce shook his head. “Unconscious,” he replied as he shifted Dick to show Jason-
The younger barely got his helmet off in time to turn and throw up, barely catching himself on one hand to prevent himself from falling forward.
“Oh god,” he whispered, slowly turning back to stare at Dick’s pale face.
They had stitched his mouth closed, the sutures swollen and bloody, puffy and red.
Infected.
“Shit,” he whispered, reaching a hand towards Dick but stopping at the last minute, not wanting to hurt him more.
“They’ve forced water through the sutures so he wouldn’t die,” Bruce murmured. “It’s been really painful for him.”
Jason nodded, pulling his helmet back on and pulling out his lockpicking kit to remove the cuff around Bruce’s ankles. He tried not to dwell on the fact that their kidnappers had decided Dick didn’t need any restraint.
He tried not to focus on the fact that his hands were trembling. He started talking, trying to distract himself from Dick’s face. An image that he knew would haunt him for years to come.
This had happened because he’d ignored Tim. This was all his fault.
“Why did they-” Jason closed his eyes. “He wouldn’t stop talking?”
“They wanted information on Wayne Industries,” Bruce replied, carefully getting to his feet and keeping Dick in his arms. “They were using Dick to get me to talk.”
“Bastards,” Jason grumbled, pulling out his gun and keeping it in front of himself as he led the two out of the basement and into the warehouse above. He chanced a glance back. “He needs medical treatment.”
“Hence the ambulance,” Bruce said. They lapsed into silence until the billionaire cleared his throat. “Thank you, Jason.”
Jason turned and frowned at him. “Why?”
“For coming,” Bruce replied.
That hurt. “You didn’t think I’d come?”
Obviously . Jason’s mind reminded him. You have a kinda shit track record when it comes to the family.
Shut up.
“Dick will be fine,” he said when Bruce didn’t reply. “I have to get out of here before the cops come.”
“Be safe.”
…………..
ONE WEEK LATER
Jason crept quietly into Dick’s hospital room, setting the flowers on the side table before turning to stare down at the other.
Dick was asleep, kept under by the massive amounts of drugs they were pumping into his veins to keep him from feeling the pain around his lips since they’d pulled the sutures out. His broken arm was in a sling and resting across his chest under the scratchy hospital blanket.
Shaking his head, Jason shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way towards the door.
“Jay?”
He flinched and turned to find Dick watching him with barely open eyes. He was clearly barely conscious and he looked like he was in pain despite the medication.
Sighing softly, Jason turned and walked back over, taking the seat next to Dick’s bed.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“B...said you...sa’ed us?”
“Stop talking,” Jason ordered. “They sewed your lips together. You’re...you’re still healing. Stop talking. Just nod or shake your head. Are you feeling better?”
Dick let out a soft breath but he seemed relieved to not speak as he nodded. “Jay-”
“What did I just say, you dipshit?” Jason grumbled. Though honestly, he was relieved that Dick was alright enough to speak. “Yeah, I saved you.” he hesitated. “Sorry I took so long.”
Dick gave a weak smile as he freed his unbroken arm from under the mound of blankets to weakly flail for Jason’s hand. Rolling his eyes, Jason gently grasped the acrobat’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah, you’re fine,” he muttered fondly, unable to stop himself from adjusting Dick’s blanket. “You’ll be back to talking our ears off soon enough.”
Dick’s eyes crinkled, giving Jason the impression of a smile and Jason couldn’t help himself but smile back.
“Do me a favor, dickhead,” he murmured as he got to his feet, gently tucking Dick’s hand back under the blanket. “Actually let yourself heal this time. Don’t rush everything.”
Dick rolled his eyes but gave a nod. After a slight moment of internal debate and hesitation, Jason sighed and brushed Dick’s hair out of his eyes before reaching down to press a gentle kiss to the older boy’s forehead.
“Get well, soon,” he murmured, brushing his hand over Dick’s hair before finally slipping out of the room.