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When he walked out of Tim's kitchen, a plate of Hot Pockets and a nice cold beer (which he had had to bring himself, talk about crappy room service) in hand, Jason was feeling... actually kind of good.
Patrol had been uneventful tonight, the usual couple of muggings and one attempted bank heist. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least for Gotham. So now he had the rest of the night to himself.
That meant a hot shower and raiding the replacement's fridge, for starters. He felt only mildly guilty about that, but alas, such was life. And he could always make it up to Tim by dropping of a batch of his favorite energy drink the next time he came by. So now he'd maybe catch some old re-runs on TV before the King of Nerds returned from his own patrol, make good on some of his sleep deficit, and then-
A loud thud from the living room interrupted his train of thought. Well, so much for his peaceful movie night. But hey, maybe he could get Tim to join in?
Oh, who was he kidding, might as well prepare himself to get kicked out again. With a sigh, Jason put his plate on the sideboard and headed for the living room.
Tim was on the floor below the window, kind of crumpled on the carpet. Jason could feel a quip about birdy junior messing up the landing forming on the tip of his tongue when he saw the blood.
And fuck, there was lots of it, a red trail down from the window sill to where Tim was lying in a heap, and… moving, thank god.
(He must have dropped his bottle at some point, because he could feel beer soaking through his socks. Some part of his brain that hadn't caught on yet worried vaguely about leaving stains on the carpet.)
Tim shifted and his eyes found Jason, still frozen on the threshold. Staring at the red of Red Robin's costume, slowly spreading outward. “Are you just gonna stand there??” With an effort, he pushed himself halfway of the floor, and… was that torn spot in his side a bullet wound? “Help?” was all he managed before collapsing back down, but Jason was already halfway across the room by then.
He turned his little brother over to get a better look at the wound (and what the fuck was wrong with his knee, angled of and bleeding like that?). Jason let out a string of curses while reaching for his comm. “Shit, they won this round, huh? Don't worry, we'll get you all fixed up in no time. I've got you, ok?”
He wasn't sure whether Tim even heard him.