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Tim’s mind was swimming in inky blackness. A low steady hum pounded against the walls of his conscience, like something trying to break into his mind.
Swaths of cold red light flickered across his vision. The humming got louder. Feeling began to return to his skin.
He registered two things: he was in his body and he was not in control of it.
He could feel his eyelids, heavy like stones. An endless ringing in his ears.
Tim flexed his fingers, trying to regain control of his body as he tried to force his eyelids open. His head was still swimming, but he could register the feeling of something against his body, it was moving.
Was he being carried?
A dull ache began to fill his senses, radiating out from his left leg.
The ache grew from a dull pain to a sharp pain to a deep and unbearable pain.
Oh. He was screaming.
That must have been the source of the humming. Sound was dampened around him, the ringing like cotton in his ears.
Tim managed to force an eye open, squinting in the light, he could see figures swimming above him in vague shapes and colors, his head still swimming.
Sound suddenly came rushing back to him all at once in an oppressive cacophony. He reached up to cover his ears, but his arms were too heavy to move, his head pressing into something firm–– another body?
“—hey babybird- I really need you to look at me, hey—,” Tim could feel a gloved hand on his cheek as he managed to crack both of his eyes open.
He could register red and leather. Jason?
“Yeah, kid, I’m right here,” Tim could hear the panic in his brother’s voice— was Jason ok? He couldn’t piece together what was happening.
“I’m gonna get you home, ok Timmers? You just gotta hold on for a couple minutes, can you do that for me?”
Tim nodded, feeling returning to the rest of his body. He took in his surroundings, assessing the situation. The left side of his body felt damp. There was pain pulsing from just below his left hip. He was on the street now— he remembers being on the roof. Jason was carrying him to a car parked in an alley— they were alone. There were… gunshots emanating from somewhere behind them.
Gunshots.
Oh no.
Tim looked down to see the bullet-shaped hole that had torn through his body armor in his left leg. His body was damp from soaking in blood— his own.
“Babybird, stay with me now,” Jason deposited Tim into the back seat before hopping into the front and speeding off.
Tim grappled with consciousness, the feeling of the leather against his cheek barely keeping him lucid. Tim wasn’t sure how much time had passed, he was too focused on keeping himself conscious as the adrenaline started to leave his system, and the pain began to seep in at full force.
He’d been shot, that he remembered. It was… a sniper on the roof. He hadn’t spotted the sniper while he was scouting.
The car came to a sudden halt. He could feel his brother's arms under his knees and behind his back as he was lifted out of the car. Pale blue and white lights swam in his vision and made him flinch— were they in the cave?
The pain in his leg was overwhelming his senses, and his mind began to fade again.
“It’s alright, Timbo, I got you— you’ve lost a lot of blood— just hold on a little longer—” Tim’s world went dark as consciousness slipped from his reach.
Tim woke to the feeling of something heavy against his arm. He peeled his eyes open slowly, adjusting to the harsh light of the cave.
He soon discovered the weight to be the greasy-haired head of his eldest brother. Grayson was still in his Nightwing suit, mask residue still rimmed his eyes.
Tim reached out, arms still heavy, and placed his free hand in his brother's hair.
Dick shot up with a gasp, “Jesus— oh, babybird—" Dick pulled him into a tight hug, "You gave us quite the scare for a minute there,” there were tears in his brother’s eyes. Tim furrowed his brows at that and reached up a hand to wide them away.
Dick laughed, his hold on Tim relaxing, but he didn't let go. Tim hummed into the oxygen mask, his throat was dry and scratchy.
Dick let go after a while and began moving around the medbay, attempting to make Tim more comfortable, surrounding him with extra pillows and warm blankets, steering clear of Tim’s left leg.
It took a few minutes for Tim’s voice to come back to him, his memory of the night was still hazy. He remembered screaming, red and leather.
“How’s Jason? Is he ok?” Tim managed to mumble out, his voice gravely.
“Jason’s fine, just a little shaken up is all. Damian left to get him as soon as you opened your eyes.”
Tim nodded at the admission, some tension leaving his shoulders in the process. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The night was slowly starting to come back to him.
He had been out on patrol, scouting out a rendezvous point for a bust on the mob–– he’d given the all-clear before he grappled down–– he remembered pain–– gunshots–– shouting––
Oh no.
Tim’s eyes flew open and he looked desperately around the medbay for signs of any other injured family members. He didn’t see anyone besides Dick, standing beside him checking his IV and vitals.
Panic started to rise in his chest. He'd messed up–– he’d made a mistake and that’s what landed him here–– god, if anyone else had gotten hurt––
Tim’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the medbay doors opening, and a frazzled-looking Bruce appeared at the doorway.
He shot to Tim’s bedside, “Oh, sweetheart— I came as soon as I saw Damian— how are you feeling?” Bruce stroked a hand through Tim’s hair, and Tim leaned into the contact.
“M’fine B— what happened?” Tim tried to ignore the shakiness in his voice.
Bruce’s expression darkened, and he pulled Tim into a hug, holding him as if he'd disappear if he let go.
“You got hit mid grapple— you fell nearly 20 feet before hitting the ground. Jason got to you the fastest. He got you out of there, but we had to keep fighting— sweetheart, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there .”
Tim couldn’t help the tears that streamed down his cheeks, and he buried his face deep into his father’s shoulder. A sob wracked his body as apologies started to spill out of his mouth–– he’d messed up. They wouldn’t want him now that he’d made a mistake–– he’d make up for it, he swears–– he––
“Shhhhh, sweetheart–– it wasn’t your fault––” Bruce ran a hand through Tim's hair.
Tim choked out a sob. Why was Bruce comforting him? He’d made a dangerous mistake, it was his fault, and someone else could’ve gotten hurt.
“We’re ok Tim, everyone made it out ok–– I love you so much, sweetheart— We–– we almost lost you tonight––”
Tim continued to sob, but the apologies stopped spilling out of him. Bruce held him tighter.
They stayed like that for a while. A long while, until Tim’s sobs were reduced to shaky breaths, then Bruce finally pulled back, but didn’t let go of him, “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, ok sweetheart?”
Tim nodded, exhaustion taking over his body as his father scooped him up and took him into the manor.
“Believe it or not, Damian stayed by your side the entire time you were unconscious,” Dick was sitting at the edge of Tim’s bed, adjusting the IV so Tim could sleep more comfortably, “Kid wouldn’t budge till you were stable.”
Tim raised an eyebrow at his brother in disbelief, Dick laughed in response, “It’s the truth!”
Tim hummed, a small smile crossing his face. Things between him and Damian had gotten a lot better lately, he’d have to spend time with his little brother again soon.
There was a soft knock on Tim’s door before Jason came in holding a sleeping Damian. Dick gave Tim a hug before standing up and went to swap Damian into his arms before leaving to put him to bed.
Jason looked terrible if the dark rings under his eyes were anything to go by.
Tim decided not to comment on his brother’s appearance, “What’s up, Jaybird? You kinda vanished after stitching me up.”
“Uh, sorry about the uh, leg n' shit,” Jason looked awkward, almost guilty. Tim didn’t like that.
“What are you apologizing for? You got me home, patched me up, and now I’m fine. Just a short recovery period, that’s all.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts! It wasn’t your fault Jay— heck if anything it was mine for not spotting the sniper when I was scouting.”
“Yeah, ok, well I don’t fully agree with that, I could’ve been quicker too—”
“Didn’t I just say “no buts”?” Tim beckoned for Jason to sit with him.
Jason moved to sit next to him on the bed
“Jason, tonight wasn’t your fault. Stuff like this happens, it’s part of being vigilantes. Sure, getting shot in the leg sucks, but it’s one of the risks we all take every time we go out there.”
Jason huffed in response, “Ok, fine. But you also gotta tell me that you know that this wasn’t all your fault too, ok babybird?”
Tim shrank back at that, momentarily avoiding his brother’s gaze. It was his fault on a tactical level, but he’d learned the hard way that there was no sense in arguing with his brother about things like this.
“Ok, so neither of us is at fault here— fine. It was a mistake, and we can promise to do better so that it doesn’t happen again, deal?”
Tim reached a hand out to him, and, to Tim’s surprise, Jason batted it away, pulling him in for a hug instead. Tim gently returned the hug.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, baby bird. Now get some rest. Those eye bags of yours are atrocious.”
Tim looked at the clock–– Jesus, it was late, “Ok, yeah it is pretty late. G’night Jay.” Tim smiled and pulled Jason in for another hug before he could protest.
Jason gave him a gentle squeeze before releasing him, “Night baby bird.”
Tim spent the next week with a revolving door of family members coming to check in on him. He got a call from a very worried Steph and Cass who had been out of town working on a case. Duke had visited a few times and kept asking for Tim’s input on different cases–– Tim suspected this was just to keep him busy while he was injured, and he appreciated it–– sitting in bed for a week was making him stir crazy.
Dick was constantly worrying over him, smothering him with care. Damian would stop by periodically, though he didn’t say much. He would sit and read with Tim, or bring Titus with him so that Tim could pet him. It made Tim smile––
Bruce checked in frequently, usually with a mug of coffee in tow. They’d gone over the analysis of the bullet that pierced Tim’s body armor, it was more probable that it had been a lucky shot from a powerful firearm.
Alfred checked in regularly as well, sometimes having to shoo Dick out of the room so he could do his job.
Jason periodically stopped by, usually with homemade baked goods of varying variety.
Tim wasn’t used to all the affection and sweet words–– it was overwhelming at times. He was learning. Learning to accept the love that was given to him, and learning how to show how much he cared in return. This was his family–– his home. He just had to learn to be a part of it.