Chapter Text
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“You’ve reached the personal line of Timothy Drake-Wayne, how may I help you?”
Tim’s bored, irritated voice rang through the BPD receiver on Officer Ginny Holts’ desk, buffered by the rush of a strong wind.
“Tim!”
“Hey, Ginny. What’s up? You get a new phone or something?”
“Tim, Dick just got shot! He’s in the hospital!”
A squeal of tires echoed down the line. A horn honked and Ginny could vaguely hear yelling in response.
“Why didn’t you say that?”
“I tried! You wouldn’t pick up the phone!”
“What happened, Ginny?”
The woman let out a sigh and slowly rubbed at her temple.
“Bank robbery gone wrong. He got shot in the shoulder when he stepped in between the robber and a civilian.”
“He’ll be fine, Tim. That’s not what I called about, to be honest. Do you know a man named Miguel Jimenez?”
Tim paused.
“No. Why?”
Ginny took a deep breath.
“He showed up at the precinct two years ago. Asked for Dick by name. He shows up all the time, now. They’re really close. His phone is full of pictures of him. When he got shot, I checked his In Case of Emergency contact because I didn't know his wife’s number, but it wasn’t her name on file. It was Jimenez.”
“Wait, wait! Slow down. Dick’s wife?”
Ginny furrowed her brow.
“Yeah… Jacin? They’ve been married for two and a half years. You don’t know your brother’s wife, Tim?”
“Three years ago my brother swore off dating altogether after our father got his ex pregnant. There’s no way he’s been married for two and a half years.”
“Bruce got Kori pregnant?”
“Barbara.”
“Ew.”
Tim hummed back in agreement. He had managed to wipe the security footage from their home computer, but not from his brain.
“Back to Jimenez, please? Tell me about him.”
Ginny sighed again, softly.
“Look, Tim, I don’t know what’s going on. But you two are close. I figured you’d want to know that something was wrong. Jimenez is with him, though. Be careful.”
“I will, Gin.”
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“Ah... Ah!”
The hospital room was filled with Dick’s pants and moans, intertwined with those from the large man leaning over him.
“More, more Baby.”
The man tutted at Dick, pulling away from him.
“What would the doctor say, Dickie? We can’t have you ripping a stitch before you leave.”
Dick groaned before wrapping his legs around the man. He flipped them over, grinning at the man’s flushed face.
“I’m not gonna bust a stitch from fucking you.”
The man huffed and laughed gruffly.
“No, but we will get kicked out for public indecency.”
“Maybe.”
Dick slipped his hands down the man’s chest. He groaned softly as the man rested his hands on his hips.
Dick leaned down to nip at the man’s neck. As he licked up the man’s jaw, the door flew open.
“Miguel Jimenez! Get off of him! Now!”
The man under Dick shifted, sliding their bulges together briefly. He groaned softly before looking over Dick’s shoulder.
“Kinda hard t’do that when I’m pinned, kiddo. I’ll move when he does.”
Dick swatted him.
“Don’t be a smart ass, help me up.”
It took some shuffling and wincing, but eventually, Dick was settled in the middle of the bed. With Jimenez’s arm slung across his shoulders.
Dick looked up, eyes wide with surprise.
“Tim?”
Tim clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. He silently motioned at Jimenez’s arm. The large man removed his arm from Dick’s shoulder. He grinned as he put his hands in the air and chuckled.
“Tim, what are you doing here?”
Dick’s worried voice cut through the angry haze surrounding Tim’s brain. He stared at the men on the hospital bed.
“What is he doing here?”
Dick rolled his shoulders back, settling closer to Jimenez, almost burrowing into his side.
“Watch it, squirt. You don’t even know who I am.”
“Miguel Jimenez. Dual citizenship, Mexico and US. Gang ties, suspected in twelve murders in Mexico, suspected in the recent rash of vandalism to Wayne Enterprise and police buildings. No father, no siblings, elderly mother.”
Tim paused as Jimenez’s breath hitched at the mention of his mother. The man quickly played it off, sliding back into his smug, perpetually unaffected persona.
“Maybe you do. But cha still didn’t answer Dickie’s question. What’re ya doin’ here squirt? Other than overreacting to everything?”
“My brother’s just been shot, asshole. I get to overreact.”
“My boyfriend just got shot! And I didn’t run in here, guns blazing!”