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If You Watch My Back, I'll Watch Your Step

Summary:

"Is that okay?”

"Is it good if I help you walk?”

"Can I pull you out?”

"Mind if I drag your sorry ass up here?”

"Can I give you the antidote?”

“Sorry, birdie.”

 

Five times Jason waits for Tim's permission in the field, and one time where he can't. And a bonus scene in the aftermath.

Notes:

I have done my first 5+1. Save me now. Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Being Robin was going great, thank you very much. And B was finally trusting him to have a spot away from Batman’s side, which was great. Sometimes, however, the solitude was not quite appreciated.

Like now, where he’s outnumbered ten to one, which he could normally work with long enough to call in backup. But, of course, these thugs were all armed to the teeth. In fact, one of them tried to take a bite out of Tim’s arm - the kevlar stopped any real damage, but it still hurt like a bitch.

Tim cried out as one of the cowards finally hit their mark, the blade tearing through both the suit and Tim’s flesh, burying in his torso. Tim managed to knock out one more thug before he collapsed with a muffled keen.

“Seems we’ve got a little birdie trapped, don’t we boys?” One of them, presumably the culprit of the knife in Tim’s stomach, stalked forward with a grin.

He stopped dead, because he was dead.

Turns out, he wasn’t the only one who had a weapon. Tim’s brother did too.

“For fuck’s sake, Robin. You seem to be pretty talented in setting yourself up for failure.” Hood crouched by Tim, letting the last couple of men scatter. He’d been getting better at leaving survivors, which hadn’t even hurt his rep, because said survivors spread word fast about Hood’s cruelty. Tim had experienced them firsthand.

That was why he flinched when Hood got closer before schooling his expression and taking a breath - fuck. That hurt.

“Baby bird, I need to take a look at that, and get you out of here. Is that okay?” Hood managed to sound concerned through the modulator, which was rather impressive. That might’ve been what made Tim nod his assent, or maybe because he had a pretty decent chance of dying if he didn’t get medical treatment soon.

Tim just nodded, struggling to find enough air in his lungs to speak.

Hood reached out to carefully pull the ripped fabric away from the blade, heedful not to touch the wound itself with his definitely filthy gloves. He whistled lowly. “I’m gonna need the Batmobile over here. Robin’s hurt, and I can’t get him back to the Cave without compromising him.”

Clearly, he wasn’t talking to Tim, so Tim let his mind wander. Abruptly, he remembered another wound in his skin, maybe not life-threatening, but he’d faced that later in the night. The scar on his leg burned, but he swallowed and pushed it down.

Hood had clearly gotten confirmation from B, but turned to Tim. “B says we gotta get you outta this alley first - it’s dirtier than my childhood home, and too narrow for the Batmobile. Do you think you’ll be okay if I move you?”

Tim took a moment to consider. On the one hand, all of what Hood said was true. On the other, no one wanted to fuck with that wound. But he’d have to move anyway, so he nodded.

“Can I move you?” Tim felt a pang of gratitude that Hood hadn’t just grabbed him. At least he had a moment to brace himself before he nodded.

“Alright, birdie.” Slowly, Hood worked his arms’ way under Tim, trying not to jostle him. It still hurt way more than just sitting there did, but it didn’t make his skin crawl as much as he’d expected.

“You good?” Hood stood fully and turned the blank helmet Tim’s way.

“Yeah,” he murmured as the pain settled, letting his head loll back on Hood’s chest. It was okay - he could drift now. Hood would keep him safe.

“Hey, stay with me, kid. Can’t have you dying on my watch.” Each step shook Tim a bit, but he knew Hood was moving as smoothly as he could.

Tim mumbled some agreement, but he didn’t follow through, eyes fluttering shut. The sound of Hood’s voice, unfiltered and edged with terror, broke through. “Robin? Robin, don’t go to sleep!”

It was a struggle to fight off the drowsiness that smothered him, but he was rewarded with the sight of Jason’s face, minus the parts covered by a domino. Paranoid bastard.

“Good job, B’s almost here.” Jason smiled at him, and Tim returned it weakly.

True to form, the rumbling of the engine echoed through the air, and Tim was dragged under with a smile.

 

Tim really needed to start keeping an eye out for kidnappers, because there he was, tied to a goddamn chair. Maybe he should retire early and hand off Robin to another orphan with black hair and blue eyes. B probably wouldn’t even notice.

He could be a crime lord, or maybe Hood’s inside man. Hm. That was an idea for when he wasn’t tied to a chair.

He was a bit bruised and he had a sprained ankle, yeah, but otherwise this kidnapping was pretty uneventful. Sure, there were sneering men - and one woman, weren’t these criminals real feminists! - but Tim was generally unarmed. His own brothers had given him worse. Well, Jason, anyway.

“You’re going to end up dead,” Tim remarked absently when he caught the glint of red in the corner of his eye, hidden by the shadows.

“By who? The big bad Bat? Everyone knows he won’t kill, even for his little sidekick.” The woman said ‘sidekick’ with a sneer, like Tim was supposed to be offended by that. Honestly, he’d grow out of it.

“No.” Tim smirked.

“By me.” Hood chose that moment to reveal himself like the theater kid he’d always been. Tim’s kidnappers paled, looking from Hood to Tim and back.

“But - you -” One of them couldn’t even finish their sentence, so another guy kindly took over for him.

“You hate Robin, Hood! What does it matter?”

God, it’d been months, you’d think people would realize Hood didn’t hate Robin anymore. Still, it was fun to watch.

“What’s rule numero uno, boys and girl?” Hood spoke lazily, enunciating everything precisely.

“Don’t hurt kids,” the woman ventured, starting to back away. Tim knew Hood was smirking, the asshole.

“That’s the one.”

“Hurry up, Hood,” Tim grumbled, leaning back to watch. Either Hood would kill them or he wouldn’t, but he was bored. Though, really, they hadn’t done anything. “Don’t be dramatic.”

All eyes turned to Tim, but he ignored them until Hood attacked, knocking them all out without breaking a sweat. “So impatient.”

“Kudos for not killing them,” Tim said absently. “Daddy dearest would be proud.”

“I’m tempted to kill them because of that. Never say that again.” Hood walked over. “Can I take off the ropes?”

Tim glanced at Hood’s expressionless face and his own ties. “Yeah.”

Hood’s gloved hands barely brushed his wrists as he nimbly undid the knots. “Injuries?”

“Sprained ankle and some bruises. You were right not to kill them - it was pretty mild.”

“They still kidnapped a kid,” Hood sighed. “I guess you’ll get to GCPD to pick ‘em up?”

Tim nodded, watching him as he crouched to undo his legs. “How goes crimelording?”

“Small talk? Really?”

“Just trying to make conversation.”

“It sucks.”

“We’re conversing. Checkmate.”

“Stop quoting the Big Bang Theory, you nerd.”

Hood rose to his feet, and Tim followed suit, albeit with pressure only on one leg. “We’re taking my bike to the Cave. You can’t patrol with that.”

“Please?” Tim gave him his best puppy eyes.

“No. Doesn’t even work with the domino, birdie.” Hood sounded amused. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah,” Tim said right before he fell over and landed on his face. “Definitely.”

“Sure, kid. Is it good if I help you walk?” Hood didn’t touch him, even to help him up. Tim really appreciated it, honestly. Everything was infinitely better when he knew it was coming, and when he got a choice, though Hood would probably keep asking if he said no.

“Sure.” He took Hood’s proffered hand. He wanted to pull himself up, but Hood did all the work for him.

“You’re so fucking tiny.”

“Shut the hell up, Hood. I’m average.”

“We know that’s a lie, Robin.” Hood started walking towards the bike with a laugh when Tim shoved at him. “Brat.”

 

Had Tim ever mentioned he never learned to swim until he was eleven? His parents never had been around enough to get him lessons, or, God forbid, teach him themselves. So Tim hadn’t been bothered with learning - it wasn’t as if he often took trips to the beach or public pool.

He’d only actually taken it upon himself to swim properly when Robin - Jason’s Robin - had fallen into the bay and had to be dragged out by the scruff by Batman. Tim decided he never wanted something that embarrassing to happen to him, so he made his way straight to Bristol’s public pool - since he couldn’t be sure the rest of Gotham’s could be trusted not to be poisoned.

Now, Tim found it ironic that history was repeating himself, because there he was, taking a dip in Gotham Bay. Actually, Jason had had no witnesses other than Batman and Tim, whereas Tim was surrounded by jeers. Oh, and that had been in June, and now it was November. Tim may or may not be getting hypothermia.

Tim was a little too familiar with the thud of boots and the flood of relief that followed. The gang members scattered quickly. Apparently Hood had been on a bit of a rampage today, since Tim had spotted more than a few bodies to report in Hood’s territory. It was with a mechanized snarl that Hood shot down a few of the members.

“Robin?” he called, looking around.

“H-Here!” Tim said through chattering teeth, kicking to stay afloat.

“Shit.” Hood’s face turned to Tim. “We gotta get you outta there, kid, ‘fore ya freeze.”

“This is getting repetitive.” Tim looked into the distance. “Why can’t it be Nightwing for once? Mix things up a bit.”

“Cause Nightwing’s in Bludhaven, brat. And he wouldn’t scare off the criminals half as fast. Can I pull you out?”

Tim, who had been ineffectually trying to haul himself onto the pier with shaking limbs, gave a slow thumbs up. “He also wouldn’t have dropped half as many bodies. Be my guest.”

Hood bent over to grab Tim by the collar of the Robin suit, heaving him up on the wood like he weighed. Tim shivered violently as he lay on the deck. “Can we go inside?”

“I’m not gonna drag your ass all the way back to the Cave, baby bird. We’re heading to a safehouse of mine. Can I carry you? It’s not far.” Hood crouched beside him, and right now Tim would take all the flashbacks, which had actually been fading to nothing but crawling skin, if he could get Hood’s body heat out of it.

“Please.”

“Ah, a polite Robin. How nice.” Hood pulled him up by the waist and set him against his hip. Tim automatically wrapped his legs around Hood’s torso, feeling a bit like a child clinging to their parent.

“This only works because you’re so small,” Hood said smugly. Tim knew he was grinning beneath the helmet.

“Sure. Doesn’t tonight give you flashbacks? Of a different Robin, actually.” Tim grinned up at Hood, because he knew.

“What - no. Shut up. Did B tell you?”

“I was there. Baby stalker, remember? Even though I was eleven, so totally old enough.”

“I can’t believe you saw that.” Hood tightened his arms around Tim when he shivered, burrowing into his warmth. He was so cold, but Hood’s body heat radiated so much it almost burned. Hood started walking quickly, wrapping his jacket around Tim and drowning his trembling. “This is gonna kill my rep.”

“You’re so dramatic. They’ll just assume you’re kidnapping me, or holding me for ransom, or just waterboarded me.” Ignoring the fact that Hood had rescued him quite a few times now.

“Stop shaking, birdie.”

“Sorry,” Tim bit out, “just a bit of hypothermia.”

“It’s mild,” Hood said dismissively, but he pressed Tim a little further into his chest. Tim stiffened for a moment, but let himself relax into the burning warmth as Hood went that much faster.

It was a few minutes later when Hood entered the apartment, dropping Tim on the bathroom floor. “Get out of that soaking wet shit right now and take a hot shower before you freeze.”

Tim shivered. “Clothes?”

“Borrow some of mine. Don’t die while I’m gone, please.”

Tim really enjoyed that shower.

 

For a vigilante named after a bird, Robin sure didn’t fly well. Tim could attest, hanging off the edge of a four story building with one hand, staring up at his attacker.

“Are we gonna have a Lion King moment? Long live the king?” Tim grinned, attempting to subtly reach with his other hand for the ledge. With a bit of luck and distraction, he might be able to pull himself up.

Sadly, luck didn’t seem to be on his side. The man, a lieutenant of a high level gang that called themselves the 5th Street Snakes, crushed his efforts with a foot. Literally. Tim gritted his teeth against the yelp that threatened to escape.

“Ah, ah, ah, little Robin. I think I’ll let you fall.”

“I think that’s a bit unnecessary. Couldn’t we, I don’t know, chat a bit before sending me to something I’ll probably just walk off?” Never say Tim wasn’t a bluffer, because he was. Sometimes.

“I imagine it’ll do a bit more than that. And wouldn’t that just be so much fun?”

“Gotta disagree there. Anyway, why don’t you let me get up and we can work this out. Batman won’t be too pleased if you send me off this roof.” Tim always hated using B like that, because it was honestly embarrassing that his only leverage was a threat that wasn’t present.

“Batman doesn’t scare me.” The man sneered but that was what they all said, wasn’t it? They changed their mind when Batman swung at them, though.

“What about the Red Hood?” The distinctive glint of red was only still for a moment before Hood was on top of Tim’s opponent, sending him flying across the roof to land with a thud.

“Always so dramatic,” Tim groaned, doing his best to not slip off. He really didn’t need a lecture while being scraped up off the pavement.

Hood didn’t look up from stalking towards the lieutenant in a distinctly predatory manner. Tim shuddered, trying not to remember that same gait growing closer and closer to him, a snarl to match and burning green eyes. It didn’t work that well. “Hang in there, birdie!”

Tim could hear the man scream, rolling his eyes. “Don’t kill him, Hood!” Then, knowing that his plea probably wouldn’t work, he added, “Or B will blame me.” That was a surefire way to get Hood to lay off.

In reality, Bruce probably wouldn’t blame Tim for not stopping the crime lord from crime-lording when he was hanging off a rooftop, but he’d still give him a look. Actually, he’d never blame Tim when even he couldn’t stop Hood half the time. Tim had a higher success rate than anyone.

“Fine.” Tim grinned, then yelped when his fingers slipped. “Oh, come on, Robin. Just when I was starting to have fun.”

“Terribly sorry,” Tim bit out.

The man cried out, and then was quiet. Hood appeared, looming over Tim laughing. “Can’t fly too well, can you?” Despite the taunt, Tim noticed he was hovering close enough to snatch him with Pit reflexes if Tim’s grip failed.

“Shut up.”

“So. Mind if I pull your sorry ass up here?”

“If it’s not too much trouble for a busy crime lord like yourself.” Tim smirked up at him. “I’d hate to inconvenience you.”

“I could start an animal rescue just for Robins at this point,” Hood mused as he reached with both arms to seize Tim by the shoulders. Tim grabbed his arm, trying not to look down, ‘cause it was different when he wasn’t relying on himself.

But Hood didn’t fail him, as always, and soon Tim was safely back on solid ground. Kinda. He was pretty sure this building violated a few OSHA codes, but it would do. “Thanks. And you’d only have the one Robin.”

“Nah, I’ve saved Nightwing’s ass a few times too. He still counts.”

“I’m sure he loved that. Hugged you and stuff?”

“I had to use one of his escrimas just to get him off me. At least he didn’t fall off a building, though - ambushed.”

“In Gotham?” The Bats knew the city too well to get caught in too many surprise attacks, especially Nightwing.

“Bludhaven, actually.”

“Aw, down there to help your brother? How cute.” Tim smiled sweetly at Hood, who growled lowly.

“Don’t push me, you brat. I’ll drop ya right back off this building if I have to. Circle of life is what it is.” Hood pointedly stepped closer, but Tim didn’t believe it for a minute.

“Sure, kid,” he said in an overdone Crime Alley drawl. “If ya say so.”

 

Scarecrow was the worst. Seriously.

Tim had already given out his filter to a kid stuck in the streets during Arkham’s latest breakout, because Tim was a good person like that. There he was, swinging along and making sure no one lingered outdoors, and if they did, they had a mask.

Is the North Side clear?” B’s voice came over the coms.

“All good.” Tim allowed himself a smile, knowing that he was keeping people safe, just like he’d always wanted.

"Good work, Robin. Head back to the Batmobile to regroup and resupply.

Tim felt the familiar flicker of pride at Batman’s words, heading straight towards the Batmobile when a shadow crossed the edge of his vision.

“B,” Tim said lowly, “Scarecrow is here.”

Robin, do not engage. Do you hear me? Get here fast, and we’ll deal with it together.” Batman’s voice was intense, and though Tim was sorely tempted, he didn’t disobey. He always was the reasonable Robin, after all, and he’d spent his first few months desperately trying not to irritate Batman. It was second nature to follow along.

Unfortunately, life had other plans.

“Boy Wonder!” Scarecrow crowed - yeah, Tim heard that too - gleefully. “It seems I’ve found myself a lost Robin! This should be fun.

“He’s engaging me,” Tim whispered.

I’m on my way. ETA ten minutes. Stall.

“Got it.” Tim grinned his signature Robin grin. “What’s up, Scarecrow? Terrorize any civilians recently?”

“Give away any filters recently?” Scarecrow came closer with a distinct air of smugness. “Now, I know dear old Batman’s already on his way, so I’ll leave you with a parting gift.”

There was a hissing noise, and Tim was choking on green gas as Scarecrow laughed and vanished.

Robin?” Tim couldn’t answer. “Robin!? Robin, report!

“Got - gassed,” Tim managed to gasp, and then he could breathe again. “I’ll be fine. He’s gone.”

Did you have the filter on?” That was Nightwing’s voice, brought in from Bludhaven for the breakout.

“Yeah,” Tim lied easily. “Heading for the Batmobile now.”

He dropped to the ground, going to lean against a wall and ponder when the effects would kick in.

That’s when he saw his parents, dressed in fine furs and glittering jewelry. Tim straightened instantly, trying to slow his breathing.

“Mother. Father.”

“Timothy,” his mother said, ice cold as always. To the contrary, Jack was seething, smoke practically billowing out of his ears. `

Boy!” he shouted, storming up to Tim. “You useless brat! I knew we spoiled you, but now you’re running around in tights like a freak!” He continued to rage as Tim flinched back, the com falling out of his ear. Jack stepped on it and ground it under his heel.

“I’m sorry - Dad, please.” Tim pressed as far against the wall as he could.

“You’re not nearly sorry enough. To think we raised you, fed and sheltered you for years.” Janet put a hand on her husband’s shoulder as she spoke. “All you’ve done was disappoint us.”

Her words bit into Tim’s skin as he continued to plead with them. “No, I’m trying, I swear. I didn’t mean to!” What was he apologizing for? Tim didn’t know.

“No, you’re fucking not!” Jack snapped, grabbing a fistful of Tim’s uniform in one hand, which shouldn’t be possible because the fabric didn’t stretch like that - it was skintight.

Tim let out a dry sob. “Dad, no, please, I’m sorry!” he gasped out.

“Robin?” Tim snapped his head around to see Hood, standing there silently. From the looks of it, he’d been there for a minute or two.

“J’son?”

“Pay attention to me, boy - nobody can help you now.” Jack shook him roughly. “You’re going to regret ever stepping foot outside of Bristol, you snot-nosed brat.”

Tim cried out when Jack backhanded him, hard.

Suddenly, Hood was much closer. “Baby bird, you’ve been gassed. Can I give you the antidote?”

Fear toxin, Tim realized with a jolt. “Hurry!” he yelped, trying to ignore his parents, but it was still running through his veins.

“It’ll take a minute for the effects to kick in,” Hood warned, and Tim felt a needle prick his skin. He hissed when Jack threw one more punch before vanishing. Tim sighed and looked up to see - Hood?

Tim scrambled away, because Hood was terrifying, and angry, always angry. “I’m sorry, Hood, please, don’t - don’t kill me.”

Hood stalked closer, shedding his helmet to reveal a feral grin. “That’s too bad, Replacement. I guess we’ll just have to have a different kind of fun instead.”

Tim grit his teeth to stop shaking. “Please, Jason, I’ll do anything you want.”

Jason laughed coldly, reaching out to take Tim’s face in his hand, just like he’d done in Titan’s Tower when he’d held him in the air by his throat. As if he read Tim’s mind, Jason used his other hand to do just that.

“Little bird can’t fly too well, can you?” Tim couldn’t breathe, surrounded by Jason, hanging limply from his fist. “Guess we’ll just have to make you.

Tim keened when Jason hurled him against the wall with a painful thud, falling down to land with his limbs twisted underneath him. Loud footsteps rang in his ears before a boot dug into his back, grinding down on him.

“Pathetic. And to think you had the gall to try to replace me. You never were good enough, were you?”

Tim said nothing.

Answer me,” Jason snarled, putting more pressure on the bruises adorning Tim’s back. Tim whined high in his throat.

“No, I wasn’t. I wasn’t, Jason, please.” Tim looked up at Jason, shuddering while the crime lord merely laughed and proceeded to put all his weight on Tim.

Tim screamed when a rib cracked under the pressure, the bone snapping wetly. “That’s a good bird, sing for me,” Jason said with a dark smile. Tim obeyed, feeling his throat nearly give under the pressure.

Gravel crunched under Jason’s boots as he crouched beside Tim, grabbing a fistful of his hair and brutally pulling his head up. Tim could only breathe a sigh of relief when the pressure on his ribs vanished, even as his spine bended uncomfortably.

“There’s so many things I could do to you. The old man’s off taking down Scarecrow. He’s probably glad to have you out here instead of with him. You’d just slow him down. You know that, baby bird, don’t you?” Jason’s voice softened, and for a minute he sounded like the brother Tim knew.

“Yes,” Tim whispered shakily, wishing someone, anyone, would show up and stop him.

“Good. We have a lot of time now. This’ll be fun.” Jason grinned, wide and dark and terrifyingly sadistic. Tim hunched a little further in on himself.

That was when Jason took one of Tim’s hands, just tight enough he couldn’t pull free. “Soft hands you have, Tim. Must not do a lot of work, huh?”

That was a fucking lie. Tim tore his hands open yesterday tripping on his way onto the bus, which was kind of embarrassing. He told himself it was to keep his identity safe, like Bruce’s playboy persona.

Jason slowly moved closer until they were nose to nose. “Baby bird?”

Tim blinked. First off, Jason was a good two yards away from him. Second, the throbbing black eye and snapped ribs were gone. He couldn’t feel a thing but the wall pressed against the brick wall.

Hood - he’d never even taken his helmet off - sighed. “You back with me?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“For what, kid? You got fear toxined - it’s not exactly a walk in the park. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I - I was talking about you. You heard me.” Tim looked down, swallowing. Hood probably felt terrible, but it wasn’t his fault

“And I’m not pissed. C’mon, birdie, let’s head back before B has a heart attack. And here,” Hood passed him a filter, “you’ll need it.”

 

For once, everything was going to plan. Tim’s plan, of course, because when had that ever failed? It wasn’t on him if things went a bit astray, but he was doing his best, and it seemed to be working.

“Robin!” Nightwing shouted as Tim rolled away from a knife thrown with frightening accuracy.

“I’m good!” he called back. “We need back-up!”

Nightwing jabbed an escrima into his opponent's chest and let it crackle with electricity. The man screamed and dropped to the ground. “Who? B’s off-world!”

Tim ducked under a blow and twisted the arm that struck backwards with a crack. “Hood, obviously.”

The thugs they were definitely outnumbered by were closing in, but they paused at the name, looking at Tim for a split second before continuing.

“But he won’t even talk to us in the field, let alone help us kick some asses,” Nightwing pointed out, kicking the legs out of some poor hired muscle and turned to one advancing behind his back.

“He’s helped me a lot, ‘Wing. You underestimate how much he likes killing people. I’ll ask him.” Tim tapped his com, jumping on top of a stack of crates for a moment. Ten or so men surrounded him, trying to dislodge him, which gave Nightwing a chance to take some out.

“Hood, we could use some help. I know you can hear me. We’re in the warehouse by fourth street. Thanks a bunch.” Tim dropped down onto some heads, twisting backwards to avoid a crowbar some annoying asshole swung at him. He grunted when someone slammed a sheet of metal against his head, reminding him of all the bruises he’d recently acquired.

“You alright, Robin? ”Nightwing was beside him, covering him while he oriented himself again.

“Yep,” he said, sticking out a leg to trip someone with a smirk. The he yelped when he was slammed to the ground by a bold attacker, grinding his face against the cement.

“Looks like I’ve got a little bird, don’t I?” the man sneered. Sucks for him that he didn’t look out, because next he was the one shoved to the ground by a furious Nightwing.

“What do they say about birds of a feather?” Nightwing’s grin was sharp.

“We fly together?” Tim volunteered, jumping up just in time to avoid a boot slamming into his temple. As it was, it only hit his shoulder. Tim hissed and struck out, weaving through the throng to give himself some breathing room. Nightwing followed suit.

“I don’t like these odds,” he whispered. Tim had to agree. It had been a trap, right from the beginning. They were both worn, and they couldn’t seem to reach an exit without being stopped.

“The rafters?”

“Now that’s a Robin trick.” Nightwing grinned, and shot up his grapple, grabbing Tim with one arm.

“That was unnecessary; I have a grapple too.”

“Keep ‘em on their toes. No guns, though. Otherwise we’d be -” Nightwing flashed Tim a smug looked, “- sitting ducks.”

“Shut up.” Tim rolled his eyes. “How long with this last?”

“I’d give it two minutes before they manage something. There’s a lot of them. We’re outgunned.”

“Yeah, I -” Tim broke off into a scream when a gunshot rang out and he was shoved to the side by someone’s mass, arms wrapped tight and suffocating around him.

He panicked for a moment, thrashing in midair, before he recognized the scrape of a leather jacket against his cheek, the hard muscle under the kevlar. “Hood,” he said shakily, trying not to panic.

“Sorry, birdie.” Hood’s voice was impossible to decipher through the modulator as he dropped Tim on the ground, then whipped around and released a hail of bullets.

Nightwing shouted something, clearly a bit pissed, and swung down to knock the gun out of Hood’s hands with his feet, landing neatly and leaving about five survivors. Hood didn’t react other than pulling out another one, but Nightwing stepped in front of him.

“No, Hood” he said in a voice one would use to talk to a dog, “drop it. Now.”

Tim trembled when Hood shot a bullet into the ground by Nightwing’s feet. “No. Watch out.”

Nightwing, instead of turning around like a normal person, launched himself into a backflip while twisting midair so that he landed facing the other way. Luckily for him, it got him out of the way of a half-hearted jab from some poor guy who clearly didn’t know when to give up. Nightwing took him down easily. The rest surrendered.

“Robin? You alright?” Nightwing turned to look at Tim, who still hadn’t moved, carefully controlling his breath. Hood took a few steps away as Tim nodded.

“Well, that’s my cue. See ya, boys.” With a whir of his grapple, Hood was gone.

“Robin?” Nightwing said again, but Tim just exhaled shakily.

 

“Baby bird?” Jason leaned against Tim’s doorway, clad in baggy jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt that used to be Bruce’s before Dick stole it, and than Jason stole it from him. It fit him pretty well, actually. Tim thought it made everyone a bit sad, seeing how much he’d grown. “Can I come in?”

Jason never asked to come in. He barged in like the big brother he was, and it annoyed the shit out of Tim. That was the first red flag.

“Sure,” Tim said, warily looking up from his laptop before closing it. “What’s up?”

“I gotta apologize to ya. I know we agreed on no physical contact unless you agreed to it. I’ve been trying to stick to that in the field, y’know, but in that ambush…” Jason trailed off, looking down for a moment. “I’m sorry. Someone shot at you, and it was a bullet piercing round. It mighta killed you.”

“I -” Tim was also not a fan of eye contact right then, so he avoided Jason’s gaze. “I get it. It’s okay, Jason, really. Thanks.”

Jason looked at him skeptically. “Are you sure? It might happen again, I gotta be honest. If it’s a choice between your boundaries and your life, I’ll pick my poison. You can hate me as long as you’re alive.”

Tim smiled at him in that bright way of his that glimpsed at the child he really way. “I could never hate you, Jay. That’s just our line of work.”

Jason’s face visibly softened. Tim patted the bed next to him, scooting over to leave room for Jason to sit. When he did, he made sure to keep some space between them. Tim appreciated the thought.

“That’s cause you’re a dumbass, birdie.”

“I’ve managed so far, haven’t I?”

“Cause ya got me. How many times have I saved your scrawny ass in the past four months?”

“Irrelevant,” Tim said, waving his hand.

“It’s totally relevant, punk.” Jason scoffed at him.

Tim pointedly leaned his head against Jason’s shoulder. Jason didn’t move. “Nope. I can handle myself, thanks.”

“You’d handle yourself better if you had a gun.”

“Stop trying to lure me to the dark side, you asshole.”

“We have pop tarts,” Jason offered.

“God, you’re such a nerd.”

Jason carefully slung an arm around Tim’s shoulders. Tim did nothing but smile encouragingly. It was okay. It was Jason, and he hadn’t hurt Tim.

“You skipped like, three grades.”

“You didn’t graduate high school.”

“You’re really not helping your case.” When Jason laughed, Tim could feel him moving under his head.

“Whatever,” he said, because it wasn’t important. What was important was that Tim was safe. He knew he was safe.

They would be okay.

Notes:

I really like the nickname 'birdie' for Tim from Jason. Like it's kinda rough like Jason, and it's not baby bird, which he only uses when Tim's hurt or being really adorable. It's a gruff older brother nickname, where he pretends to be irritated but he really adores Tim.
Update: WHY DID NO ONE MENTION THE LAST TWO SCENES WERE ALL IN ITALICS AND HOW DID I NOT NOTICE?? IM SO SORRY also I forgot to gift it to geewhizmo bc their comment inspired this

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