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It was just a tiny scratch, really, but it was from a rusty nail, and Tim really, really didn’t want to get tetanus, because then Bruce would definitely try to bench him, and it would turn into a whole thing with yelling and brooding and everyone having a bad time, and Tim really wanted to avoid that if possible.
Plus he didn’t want tetanus, just in general.
He trudged into the cave, where Alfred had already laid out a tray with some alcohol wipes, some wound cleaning supplies, and a syringe with the tetanus booster. Yuck. Shots were so annoying. At least when he was a kid, he got a lollipop from the nurse afterwards, and his mom would take him out for ice cream if he’d been brave and didn’t cry. Now all he got afterwards was more paperwork for Bruce’s records.
Dick and Jason followed him into the room, bickering about the ethics of fish farming. And people called Tim the nerd. Tim kind of wished Damian wasn’t hiding in his room. It would sure be something to see three highly trained and potentially deadly vigilantes talk about the fishing industry.
“All I’m saying is that fish hatcheries generate so much waste that it negates any benefit from not fishing from wild fish populations,” Jason said, throwing his hands up to emphasize his point.
“Okay, so what? You think we should go back to only fishing from the wild? Because that causes damage to wild fish populations, too, and I’m not just talking about the fish you’re catching. Unintentional catching of species is part of the reason why so many fish populations are struggling now. Commercial fishing disturbs delicate ecosystems and that affects all the creatures living in the water, not just the fish we eat!” Dick countered.
“Oh my god, knock it off, you two,” Tim groaned, rubbing his forehead as he slumped into a chair. “You guys are not allowed to take anymore cases involving the Penguin.”
“Come on, Tim, don’t you care about the ocean?” Jason said, his tone teasing.
“Oh yeah, I love the ocean. I love it so much I almost drowned in it last week,” Tim retorted. That had been unpleasant, and quite frankly he was tired of Oswald Cobblepot and his stupid adherence to his theme. He honestly would have rather been shot. Nice and simple, no untying yourself from the heavy weight attached to your legs so you could swim to the surface, only to realize you now had to swim half a mile back to shore because your comm was broken.
Yeah. Unpleasant.
He should have kept his mouth shut about the ocean, because this somehow launched Dick and Jason into a discussion about human development on beaches. Tim chose to ignore them and started cleaning out the scratch on his forearm and wiping off his other arm in preparation for the tetanus booster.
As Tim started to pick up the syringe, he noticed Jason’s eyes tracking his movements, even as he held a half-hearted conversation with Dick. A thought occurred to Tim and he started to gather up his stuff, saying, “Oh, sorry, I can take this to another room.”
Dick stopped talking, and Jason stared at him blankly. “Why?”
“Well, because. You know. I don’t want to upset you.”
If anything Jason looked more confused. “What’s going to upset me?”
“You know. Needles. Because your mom used drugs. And then, uh. Died. And I thought you might have trauma about that?”
“Tim!” Dick hissed from behind him, sounding appalled and Tim winced. Yeah, okay, maybe he could have been a little smoother about that. He really needed to work on his delivery. It was the thought that counted, though, right?
“Needles don’t bother me,” Jason said bluntly. “Probably because I’m so used to them, you know, because of my mom. Dying and all,” and yeah, that was some exasperated sarcasm in his tone.
“Okay, then I won’t go in the other room,” Tim said slowly, setting the tray back down.
“You know, if anything, it’s the medical system that refused to help my mom get medications to help her fight off her illness, and then when she was past the point of recovery refused to give her medications to keep her comfortable that has traumatized me,” Jason continued. “You know, because maybe it really sucked seeing my mom suffer and be unable to fix it beyond helping her get what drugs she could. Maybe it’s the government that traumatized me by refusing to establish a system to support poor people when they’re sick, and then criminalize them when they try to help themselves! Maybe my trauma has nothing to do with needles, or drugs, but the fact that nobody cared about my mom more than they cared about their bottom line!”
Jason yelled his last sentence, then snapped his mouth shut, jaw tensing and blinking very rapidly a few times. He looked kind of shocked, and Tim was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say all that, but now the ringing silence was uncomfortable and somebody needed to say something.
Tim fidgeted, racking his brain for something to say, finally coming up with “Cool, so you’re good with needles. Gotcha.” Bad. Bad brain that gave him terrible ideas for things to say. Tim was suddenly very intimately aware of what the phrase ‘putting your foot in your mouth’ meant.
The awkward silence continued as Tim quickly gave himself the shot, hoping the conversation would start back up again, but Jason was still glaring at him and Dick looked like he was trying to decide between making a pun or offering some words of comfort.
“Uh, so. What do you guys think about coral reefs?” he said lamely.
Behind him, Dick grumbled something under his breath that sounded very, very disparaging towards dumb younger brothers, but Tim mentally sighed in relief when Jason took the out.
“Have you guys heard about the artificial reef they tried to make out of tires in Florida in the eighties? Turns out, tires do not make a good reef! Who could have guessed!”