Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everyone knew that Blüdhaven was a city that didn't play by any rules. It was a dirty, dilapidated, corrupt city but that didn't stop the city from being full of light and life in a way that made everything worth it. At least, that's what dick had always thought ever since residing in bludhaven. He’d been a vigilante in Blüdhaven for years now. Long enough to know that shadows here didn't always stay hidden. But Dickwas never going to give up on the city. It was his city after all, Gotham might be Batman’s but Blüdhaven was his. No matter how bad it got, he kept his head. He was never going to let Blüdhaven fall into total chaos.

It was the middle of the afternoon when it hit him, one of those bone deep exhaustion days that felt like the weight of the entire city was on his shoulders. He felt uneasy the last couple of days. He was working his day job as an officer at the BPD. He was stuck doing paperwork all day and he would have to go out for patrol in a few hours. He'd barely had time to get a very mediocre cup of coffee to keep him awake before he was right back at his desk, digging into the latest case. The paper pliers were ridiculous, each one a small mountain on the cluttered desk. Evidence bags, half written reports, and a mess of files he really knew he should organize—but who had the time for that? Organized chaos, he called it. He liked his desk like this. Others might look at him as if he was crazy but it was his system. Something he learned from Bruce a long time ago— he could tell with a glance if something had been tampered with. The harder the scene is to recreate the easier it is to catch on that someone has been messing with your stuff.

He glanced over to his co-worker, Amy, who was at her own desk cleaning up the remainder of her paperwork for the weekend. Amy was one of the few officers in the department Dick actually trusted, the kind of person who didn't play dirty and called bullshit when she saw it. She was also the only one who seemed to notice the unholy amount of work he was given for being a “rookie” despite being in the force for over a year now.

“Hey, Dick,” Amy said, narrowing her eyes at him, “You look like hell, Have you been sleeping at all?”

Dick let out a sigh, trying to rub some life back into his eyes— if he was being honest he really could use some more sleep between his day job and patrolling. “I’ll sleep when the case is closed,” he muttered, though even he didn't believe the words

“Bullshit,” she snorted, folding her arms across her chest. “You can't run on coffee forever, if you pass out one of these days and i'll have to clean up the mess. If i find out you're adding overtime hours next week—"

“I’m not,” Dick interrupted quickly even though he knew full well he would probably end up working late anyway, as one of the few corrupt officers in Blüdhavenhe felt he had a responsibility to not let cases get into the wrong hands. “I’ll be fine, Amy.”

She shot him a very disbelieving look. “You’re barely standing. If you don't take a break, I’m gonna kill you, Grayson.”

Dick chuckled trying to hide a bit more the tiredness in his voice. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Grayson!” The voice of his boss, Caption Borden cut through the precinct interrupting Amy before she could shoot back a response. Dick winced as he stood up, feeling the familiar knot of tension settling into his shoulders. He had not realized he was slouching until now.

“My office. Now” the captain barked as he walked in and scanned Dicks desk, an angry sigh escaped him when he saw the mess.
Dick almost winced. He knew his desk was, well….. a disaster, but it was his disaster. He knew exactly where everything was, his madness worked. But apparently, to Borden, it was a sign of neglect.

As Dick walked towards the captain's office he shot a glance back at Amy, who gave him a sympathetic nod as if he was a prisoner awaiting execution.
The door shut behind him, the weight of the conversation already settling in the air. Captain Borden did not waste any time getting to the point.

“Grayson, what the hell is this?” Borden’s noise was low, but laced with anger.

“What do you mean, sir?” Dick asked, keeping his tone neutral

“Don’t play dumb with me, Grayson,” Borden snapped. “The Argus file is missing and it's your responsibility to make sure that doesn't happen. Your desk looks like a goddamn war zone. You can't possibly keep track of anything in this mess”

Dicks jaw tightened confused about the news of the missing evidence but he kept his voice calm. “I had the evidence, Captain. I filed it away—just like always.”

“Yeah, and now it's gone. This isn't the first time something’s gone missing under your watch, and looking at your table I can't be surprised.” Bordens eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Some higher ups wanted me to take your badge away and arrest you for stealing evidence, I'm trusting you by assuming you lost it in that pigsty of yours.”

Dick’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice calm. “I had the evidence, Captain. I filed it away—just like always.”

“This isn’t the first time something’s gone missing under your watch. First the records, then the file last week. Now this.”

“Someone’s setting me up,” Dick said, his voice low and steady. "I didn’t do anything wrong. I followed all the proper procedures, I am sure I filed the argus case”

Borden leaned forward, his eyes sharp as a knife “Cut all the crap Grayson. I know you're a good officer but people around here are starting to talk. I’m gonna have to suspend you without pay until this gets sorted out. You'll be off the case. With all the evidence against your you're lucky you'll still have your badge after this mess”
The words hit Dick like a punch to the gut. Suspended. Without pay nonetheless. It reminded him of when Bruce fired him from being Robin. And the idea that this case could be put in the hands of someone with the wrong intentions— it was more than he could bear. Dick clenched his fists, but forced himself to keep his cool.

“You know me, Captain. Despite my mess, when have I committed mistakes like these?” The answer was never, turns out the tolerance of what is considered a mistake at the BPD is much larger than what he was used to with Batman.

For a moment, Borden just stared at him, and the tension in the room thickened. Dick could feel the weight of Borden’s gaze, with now doubt hanging in the air.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Borden sighed and stood up from his desk. “I don't have time for this, Grayson. The paperworks been filed. Your suspension is official. Get your things, and we’ll discuss what happens next when you’re back.”

Dick nodded, trying to not let his frustration show. He knew this was far from over— he could feel it in the past few days, there had been something gnawing in his gut, a feeling he learned from working with Batman to never ignore. He had to get to the bottom of this, and fast.

As he walked back to his desk with the weight of Bordens words still weighing on him, Dick couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to spiral into something, someone was after him. someone with a much bigger plan— and they weren't going to stop until they got what they wanted.
But Dick wasn’t going down without a fight.

Chapter Text

As he went home, dicks thoughts churned like a storm. He spent hours retracing his steps, trying to piece together all the evidence he had for what could have possibly gone wrong, but he couldn't come up with anything. His mind felt sluggish, it wasn't just the missing evidence it was everything—each misplaced document, every sidelong glance from the others in the precinct. And there was also this growing sensation that he was not alone for the past few days, the creeping sense of being watched.

The feeling isn't new, and certainly wasn't unusual with how often his family liked to come unannounced in a way that could only be described as stalkerish to normal people. But now this feeling was sharper, like a knife pressed just close enough to the skin to draw blood.

That evening, desperately trying to find a way to clear his head, dick went to one of Blüdhaven’s more run-down bars close to his apartment. The place was loud and grimy, the kind of spot where people went to forget their lives. But even there, he couldn’t shake the feeling. His instincts were screaming at him but he just had no idea what to do.

Sitting at the bar, drinking a beer, he noticed a man in a dark jacket. The stranger had been watching him for the better part of an hour, his gaze shifting when dick looked back. He wasn’t a local— Dick knew the regulars. This man did not belong. The man had a golf hat, that mixed with the fact he kept his face down the whole night made it so dick couldn't quite see what he looked like.

When Dick finally decided to confront him, the man slipped out the door with uncanny speed, vanishing into the shadowy streets in a way Dick was only used to from the bats. Dick pursued him, but the crowded alleyway swallowed him whole. As frustrating as it was, this confirmed one thing: this wasn’t paranoia or lack of sleep. Someone was watching him. This wasn't random. This was personal.

Later that night, with his head still hot, dick suited up. The city's streets were quieter than usual, but that never meant good things in Blüdhaven.

“Oracle,” he called into his comms as he leapt onto a rooftop.

“Nightwing,” Barbara's steady voice came through into his ears acknowledging him “Your heart rate is higher than usual, tense from a rough day?”

“You could say that,” he muttered, scanning the streets below. “I’ve got someone tailing me. They were at the bar tonight. Tried to confront them, but they bolted. Can you tap into the cameras to try to get some ideas on what is happening?”

Barbara hummed in response, he could hear her loud typing. “i'm running some surveillance of the nearby area”

“Yeah, that'll help. But something about this doesn't feel right. Its not just the tail. Work has been… off. Evidence disappearing, things feel sabotaged. Feels like someones trying to back me into a corner.”

“You think they're after you specifically?” she asked, her tone sharpening at the mention of the case Bruce had been struggling with for a number of months before all the leads just stopped abruptly.

“feels like it,” he admitted. “i dont have proof yet, but…. yeah.”

“Be careful, N. If they’re this deep, they won’t play fair”

“They never do,” he replied, dropping into an alley. “I’ll check in later.”

The patrol started like any other. A few muggings, a gang scuffle—nothing out of the ordinary. At the first mugging, Dick landed behind a thief holding a knife. “Hey, buddy, knives are cool and all, but have you tried asking nicely? its way less stabby." Before the thief could respond, Dick had disarmed him and pinned him to the ground. “See? That 's teamwork. You try to stab, I stop you—everyone learns something”

The loud typing on the other end stopped abruptly

The gang scuffle wasn't much different— or so it seemed when he got there, Dick dove in, dodging a bat swing and disarming the first thug in one move. “A BAT? Wow, on-brand, but I think I use it better,” he grinned, twirling between swings from the bat and cracking it against another attacker's knee.

But as he continued following his patrol route, things started to feel more…. wrong. The criminals seemed quicker, sharper as if they were enhanced with something. That wasn't all though, the thugs he faced were ready anticipating his every move like they had some ‘how to beat nightwing’ guide.

In an alley, three men surrounded him. One swung with a crowbar, and dick sidestepped it. Only to be grazed by a knife to his right. Luckily his suit was fairly resistant to knife attacks. “Ouch! Thats gonna ruin my favorite suits,” he said, landing a punch on the guy with a knife. “Do you guys have a union or something? Because this coordination is weird coming from you.”

By the time he had incapacitated the four men, his ribs throbbed from a crowbar strike, and his thigh burned for a knife graze, not any regular knife could do that due to the the klevar technology of his suit.

The worst came in a warehouse. What he thought was a lead on a break-in turned into an ambush. “Wow, this is a lot of firepower for canned goods,” he joked, dodging a swing. But they were relentless, every move eerily synchronized like a machine.

A bat hit his ribs again, and he barely rolled away from another knife at his side. “Okay, okay, you win! No one told me dodgeball was back in season,” he grunted, kicking one the thugs chests before retreating.

By the time he limped out, bruised and bleeding, the humor was hard to muster. Normally dealing with an average gang of their size despite the number would be a piece of cake for Nightwing. Something wasn’t just wrong—it was deliberate.

By the time he returned to his apartment it was past 5 am. He dropped onto his already disgusting couch and dirtied it further by peeling off his bloodied suit with a grimace and changing into a pair of sweats. His reflection in the cracked mirror across the room looked like hell— bruises all across his face did not compliment his dark circles very well with dried blood crusting all around his body.

The man tailing him at the bar, the sabotage at work, all the thugs in Blüdhaven seemingly knowing all his moves and the equipment to injure him—it all led to something bigger. They were actively trying to wear him down, mentally and physically.

The suspension without pay was already pushing him to his limits. He wasn't used to having this much free time and it was driving him crazy, all he could think about is the case. His savings were also dwindling fast, and the idea of asking Bruce to tap into his trust fund was laughable.

He tried to sort through news reports of different criminal activity in bludhaven and how it could be related to this. But he found nothing. All drug operations and gangs seemed to be quiet as if they were plotting something. Not even Barbara could find anything, from security tapes to recent arrests, it showed nothing.

But as he stared at the scattered case notes on his desk, Dick realized that whoever was behind this wasn't going to stop until he did.

And that wasn't an option.

Chapter Text

Dick leaned back in his chair, continuing to stare at the never ending pile of files and reports that all seemed to lead nowhere. His eyes were strained, his body was sore from nights patrolling, and even with his leave at work he hasn't had more than 2 hours of sleep for the past three days. But the case had him too deep in its grasps to stop. It was driving him crazy, every time he went out to patrol he felt like he was on the outside of some joke. The world seemed heavier and all the criminals of Blüdhaven. seemed to be one step ahead of him at all times.

He underestimated them.

Logically he knew the right thing to do was to call Bruce and ask for help, but telling Bruce would mean admitting he failed. He could almost hear the disappointment in Bruce’s voice, see the faint frown and the incoming lecture. No, he wouldn't give Bruce the satisfaction of thinking he couldn't do this on his own.

If he wanted to figure out what was happening, he was going to need more help, and since Bruce was not an option, he opted for the next best thing. Someone who could get a much larger scoop of the criminal activity in Blüdhaven from the inside.

He grabbed his phone from the desk and went to his contacts without hesitation. Jason Todd. His brother. He wasn’t the first person Dick usually called, but tonight he needed someone with inside knowledge, someone who he knew he could trust but could still get their hands dirty when the usual methods were not working.

The line rang twice before Jason picked up.

“Dickhead?” Jason's voice crackled over the line, rough as if he'd been woken up from a deep sleep. “What’s going on?”

“Are you just waking up? didn't even know you slept at all” Dick said amused

“Why the hell are you calling me?” Jason grunted annoyed and Dick was sure he was rolling his eyes as he got up for some coffee.

“Got a situation here,” Dick said, tone shifting to more serious rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Something weird is happening in Blüdhaven. Blüdhaven’s gangs have all gone quiet. The usual players aren’t making any big plays, yet it seems like all the street crime is more precise, tailored even to my patrol route. The attacks seem more calculated and professional. I’ve been trying to dig into it, but I'm missing something.”

Jason’s voice shifted, a hint of seriousness bleeding his tone. “You’re right about that. Something is definitely up in that dilapidated weird-ass city ours”

Dick rolled his eyes at that. Jason was always one for dramatics, he would never say that to his face though.

Jason continued “I’ve got a few things that don’t add up too. Gangs are laying low—more so than usual. None of my guys have been able to contact anyone in Blüdhaven. Also all the previous buys we’ve had planned with gangs from Blüdhaven were cut out of nowhere. There's more—equipment missing, people acting strange.”

Dick’s brow furrowed. “I’ve got the same feeling here. It's like everything’s gone underground. You think it's connected?”

“Definitely. All the weird stuff happening here, it's all tied into Blüdhaven somehow. Have you looked into anything yet?”

Dick sighed “I’ve definitely tried, but I've got nada. Babs tried scanning the area, uncovering some reports, but again there was nothing.”

Dick stood up, walking over to the window, his eyes scanning the streets below. Blüdhaven skyline looking back at him, looking eerily still.

“And what did Bruce say about this?” Jason asked

“he said ‘Oh dick, my very trusted son. You old enough and wise, I trust you full heartedly to take care of your own city without any of my meddling necessary.’” Dick said in a very bad Bruce impersonating

Jason huffed, rolling his eyes, but sounding somewhat amused “So you haven't told the old man yet?”

“nah, he doesn't know yet. and I plan to keep it that way.”

“And why exactly is the golden boy keeping something from daddy dearest?”

Dick rolled his eyes “You better than anyone, I tell Bruce and he is gonna look at me with that face and give me another lecture about what i should do. Then he is gonna meddle in everything I do for the next year.” Dick shifted his tone from annoyed back to business mode “What about you? any leads on your end about the weird things happening?”

Jason let out a sharp breath. “A few things. I’ve been tracking some unusual movements, people disappearing off the radar—people who shouldn't be. Some of my contacts have been going quiet. Like they're scared to talk. And…. some of my gears are gone missing. Small stuff, at first— tracking devices, some of my weapons—but it's escalating. Im guessing whoever is behind all of this is more organized than they look”

“missing equipment huh?” Dick repeated, thinking “If they stole your equipment that could explain how they were able to damage my suit. Not many knives can do that. It sounds like they are targeting people with resources.”

“Exactly. Whoever this is knows what they’re doing. They’ve been taking things from the inside and keeping them for something bigger.”

Dick was silent for a moment, piecing together bits of the puzzle. The gangs have always been a nuisance, and it is possible that they were preparing for some big turf war. But none of that would explain why they would send someone to track him down, or about his work. Dick decided it was better to leave that part of the case out of the conversation. For now at least

“Okay, I think we’re on the same page,” Dick said. “This could be something more, whoever is behind this is playing a larger game. Are you busy, or can you come to Blüdhaven to investigate with me?”

“Agreed. We need to dig deeper. I'm heading to Blüdhaven. I'll help figure out what the hells going on in your city”

Dick didn't hesitate. “Meet me at my place, we’ll figure out our next move from there.”

Jason's voice was clipped, but Dick could hear the slight edge of concern, even if he tried to hide it. “I'll be there in an hour. Don’t do anything stupid before I show up.”

“Don’t worry, Little wing,” Dick replied dryly. “I’m saving the stupid for when you get here.”

Chapter Text

Jason arrived at Dicks’s apartment and it was too damn early. So early that the night's chill still settled over the city. The sky was an unnatural shade of deep deep blue…. unnatural for those who are used to Gotham's gray sky anyway. He stood outside for a moment, scanning the building for any signs of movement, before taking a deep breath and pushing through the door.

It was a place Jason was slowly starting to feel more comfortable with as he reconnected with his family. It was a haven for when the weight of being in Gotham got too heavy. One of the first places Jason started to feel safe after he came back. But now, as Jason stepped inside, something felt off.

The apartment was darker than usual, the only light coming from the occasional flicker of a lamp in the corner. All the surfaces in the place were cluttered with papers—cases, reports, notes—disorganized in a way that was unlike Dicks usual ‘Organized Chaos’ as his brother called it. But now, the place looked like a battlefield, the papers scattered everywhere, every surface covered with hastily scribbled notes and a concerning half-finished cup of coffee which was especially concerning since the fact that Richard Grayson does not enjoy coffee was well known.

And there, sitting at the kitchen table, was Dick.

Jason froze at the sight.

The usual energetic and bright-eyed Dick Grayson—his older brother—looked like he had never slept. ever. His face was pale,a drastic difference from his usual tan complection, his eyes bloodshot and sunken. He had a massive bruise covering most of his face with pieces of dried blood still hanging on to his clearly unkempt hair. His posture hunched as if the weight of the world was pressing him into the chair. His clothes were rumpled, and the muscles of his body, usually alert, now hung as if his bones had been hollowed out along with his eyes. If Jason didn't know any better he would’ve thought this was an Arkham inmate.

“Dick?” Jason’s voice was quieter than usual and laced with shock, the edge of his usual sarcasm gone as he took a hesitant step forward as if he was entering a lion's cage.
Dick’s eyes flickered up, but his expression was distant, unfocused. He gave a weak smile, but with how insane he looked it was more like a grimace.”Hey, Jay,” he muttered, his voice scratchy, as

if he hadn't used it much in the past few days. “You made it.”

Jason's stomach tightened with a mix of concern and irritation. He hated being in other’s business when he didn't need to, especially when it came to his family who he still tried to keep at arm's length. But seeing Dick like this… it was hard to ignore.

“You look like hell.” Jason blurted out

Dick gave a low chuckle, but it sounded a bit forced and rolled his eyes. “ Yeah, I’ve been busy with no time for pampering like you.”

“Busy?” Jason crossed the room with two quick strides, setting his duffle bag down on the floor. He didn’t sit, he didn't want to sit—he was too busy staring at the mess in front of him. “You look like you’re a zombie running on caffeine. You eating? Sleeping? What the hell’s going on, you look fucked up even to my standards.”

Dick’s eyes flickered briefly, avoiding Jason’s gaze, as he rubbed his temples. “I’m fine, Jason. Really. Just… got a lot on my plate. This case…” He trailed off, and his voice dropped, like he was lost in thought. “It’s just… nothing adding up. And I can't stop thinking about it. Everything 's off. But every string I follow leads to nothing. It's dead end after dead end. And I need to figure it out
before it gets worse.”

Jason watched him closely, his eyebrows furrowed. Dick had always been the level-headed one—the one who could handle pressure without flinching. That also meant he was always the one who never said anything when something had happened. But this… this wasn't his brother. This was someone else. Someone on the edge of things.

“You’ve been working on this non-stop?” Jason asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Dick nodded, still looking at the papers. “I can’t stop. It’s like… the pieces are all around me, but I can't put them together.Its like someone pulling the strings, and i'm stuck in the middle of it. Every time I think Im close to something, it slips away”

Jason stayed silent for a moment, processing everything Dick had said. There was something off about the way he was talking, the way he seemed disconnected. He was paranoid—more paranoid than usual. Jason knew Dick well enough to tell when something wasn’t right, and this wasn’t just about the case.

“Dick,” Jason said, voice hesitant. “You’ve been awake for…how long?”

Dicks eyes finally looked up from paper to Jason’s. “I called you instead of Bruce to not deal with judgement, so stop Jason, im fine.” Dick said in a voice tired and annoyed.

Jason could feel a vein in his forehead start to become more prominent, but chose to ignore the feeling rising up and take a deep breath. Jason didn't believe Dick one bit, but he didn't push it. Not yet. “Alright,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. “Let’s talk about the case. What 's the plan?”

Dick straightened slightly, like he was trying to pull himself together. “We need to get out there and see things for ourselves. Something 's off. I’m missing something, Jason. I know it”

Jason watched Dick closely as he blabbered on, but his words didn't quite make sense. Dick was normally shark, quick-witted, able to process information in seconds. But now, his sentences were disjointed, his tone almost erratic. Jason was starting to get the feeling that this wasn't just about the case anymore.

“Alright,” Jason said, trying to keep his voice calm. “we’ll go out. But you need to get some sleep, man. You’re not gonna make any headway like this.”

Dick did not respond right away. He simply stared at the table, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he couldn't sit still long enough to come up with any coherent thoughts. Jason wanted to say more but he didn't. Instead, he waited in silence, watching his brother slip further into his own mind.

Chapter Text

Dick recognized that maybe he was not in the best shape. So begrudgingly he went to sleep even though it was already morning anyway. He hadn't realized how much he missed sleeping. One second and he was gone. Dick slept through the entire day and woke up just a few hours before he was meant to go on patrol with Jason on his couch reading a book.

They were just beginning their patrol. The city, quiet for the moment, stretched out before them like a familiar, worn map. Dick was in a good mood, lighter than he’d been in days—maybe it was the sleep, maybe it was the simple rhythm of patrolling with Jason by his side. Lately it was rare for him to think things were going right, but tonight? Tonight felt decent.

“Hey, you know you’re not supposed to actually wait for me, right?” Dick called over his shoulder, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. He knew Jason had his comms on, but he didn't respond. Typical.

Jason grunted, swinging onto the rooftop with a lazy grace that Dick couldn’t help but admire a bit.”You know, if I didn't know better, I’d think you were going soft,” Jason shot back, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “You sure you’re not gonna trip over your own feet or something?”

Dick laughed lightly. “Please. In this city i'm practically invincible,” he said adding on to the statement with a perfect flip off the edge of the building. “Bet you can’t keep up.”
“That's exactly what I'm worried about. You and your ego.”

For a moment, it felt like old times. Dick got nostalgic thinking how Jason still had that biting sarcasm, but it wasn't exactly the same. He was relaxed, almost nostalgic, like he hadn’t forgotten all the times they’d spent on patrol together. Dick could tell Jason was slowly lowering his walls around the family. The usual banter went easily between one too many bad jokes mixed with eyerolls
and it felt like Dick was back in those days when the weight of everything wasn’t so crushing.

But of course the feeling didn't last long.

Hours later, they were still patrolling. The familiar sound of the city at night filled the air—sirens in the distance mixing with the low hum of the traffic, and an occasional shout in street corners. As they swung across Blüdhaven, Dick couldn't shake the growing burning sensation that Jason’s gaze was burning holes into his back.

Jason wasn’t just helping him with the case patrolling. He was studying Dick’s every move, analysing, waiting for something to go wrong. As if Dick was a bomb about the set off any minute. Or like he was some kind of mental patient and Jason was a therapist trying to figure out where it all went wrong. The thought made Dick’s jaw clench. What, so now he’s the well adjusted one? He
could feel the judgement radiating off Jason, a spotlight trained on his every little stumble.

“Slow down, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” Jason called from behind, his voice sharp

Dick didn't even bother responding, he just looked forward trying his best to keep his annoyance at bay. He pushed himself forward, leaping to the next rooftop. His grips on his escrima sticks tightened, knuckles turning white. I’m fine, Jay. Just fine.

He was dumb. He knew he wasn’t really fine. He could tell his movements were off, sloppy in ways they havent been since he was a kid who just lost his parents. A missed ledge here, a stumble there.

It was like his whole body was working against him. As the night went on the feeling of something deeply wrong Dicks chest grew. It wasn’t just a ‘bad feeling’ anymore. This was more. It felt physical. It felt like life was being sucked out of him. Like every movement made his whole body heavier, harder to control. It was like his body was working against him. But Jason didn't need to know that.

Jason’s voice cut through again, more insistent now, “Nightwing. You’re not invincible. You’re acting like you’ve got a death wish.”

Dick landed heavily on the next roof spinning around to glare at Jason, his shoulders tense. “I’m not the one with a reputation for death wishes, remember?” he snapped, his words laced with more venom then he intended.

Jason's eyes narrowed, his lips turning into a thin line. His chest flared up and down like he was trying to keep his temper down. Maybe he could see the cracks in Dick’s armor. Maybe that just pissed Dick off more.

As they separated and moved further into the city, Jason’s voice kept coming through his short comms, clipped suggestion, warnings that Dick was starting to tune out. For a moment Dick started to wander to the irony of this whole situation.

Jason had lost it once on him, not too long ago—on something eerily similar. ‘You look at me like I am broken! Like I need fixing!’ Jason yelled. Now here he was, trailing after Dick like a lost puppy, playing babysitter when he was only needed for intel, doing the exact same thing. Hypocrite much?

The thought almost made him laugh, but it got stuck in his throat and mixed with the bitter taste of the night.

Jason muttered something else into Dick’s comms when he missed another ledge, between the growing burning sensation that felt like it was trying to slowly rip his soul out and the air growing so thick it was hard to breathe, Dick couldn’t even make out what Jason said, but it still grated on him like nails on a chalkboard. “You know, Hood, if I just wanted someone to point out all my mistakes, I’d have asked B.”

Jason didn't rise to the bait like Dick expected, his jaw tightening instead. “Yeah, well, you’re lucky you’ve got someone following your reckless ass. Could’ve asked Damian instead. Bet he’d be thrilled to help”

Dick barked out a short laugh, shake and humorless. "Right, because that would definitely end with one of us in one piece."

Jason actually smirked at that, his lips twitching despite the tension. "Fair. I’d put fifty on him, though."

Dick ignored the jab and turned away, pacing along the rooftop. The city lights blurred with the edges of his vision. He tried to scan the streets below, his mind racing, the feeling in his chest rising up again making it harder to breathe. They’re out there. Somewhere. Watching. Waiting. He needs to stop this. He needs to. He needs to.

“You’re doing it again,” Jason said, his voice quieter now, though the frustration was still there. “Whatever’s in your head, it's not real. Come, Nightwing, you’re better than this.”

Jason's comment brought him back to the present. Better than this? That phrase stung more than it should have. Dick spun around staring at Jason, his escrima stick in hand pointing one at Jason. “Don’t talk to me like you’ve got it all figured out. You’re not exactly the poster boy for mental stability.”

Jason stiffened, his hands balling into fists, and for a second, Dick thought he’d finally done it. He cracked Jasons patience. The patience before this night he had been working for months to restore. But Jason just exhaled through his nose. “Yeah, well, at least I know when to ask for help.”

The words hung in the air between them like a challenge. But neither of them moved.
Jason finally broke the silence, shaking his head.”You know, if sarcasm could kill, you’d definitely have cleared Blüdhaven by now”

“Wouldn’t need to if you shut up for five minutes” Dick shot back, knowing full well Jason had already criticized him for the same thing multiple times in the past. The corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself.

Jason let out a low chuckle. “Fine. Five minutes. But if you faceplant again, I’m calling Oracle. She’d love to hear about how Blüdhaven’s golden boy can’t keep it together.”
“Try it, and I’ll tell Agent A you broke another one of his mugs last time you were in the manor.”

The exchange was buried, a flicker of their old dynamic breaking the tension. But it still wasn't enough to shake the heaviness around them or fully take the weight off Dick’s chest.
As they moved again, Jason kept close and stayed silent, it was grounding, but still maddening. He could feel Jason’s eyes still on him.

stop looking at me like I’m fragile, Jay. I’m not.

Dick picked up his pace again, but no matter what he still couldn’t shake that feeling, he needed to find something. There was no other choice. From the corner of his eye Dick could see a shadow move. He knew something was coming. He needed to stop them. The pressure of the night continued crushing him. He continued to look around for the shadow with bloodshot eyes. He could feel it, there was something. He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t hear anything else around him. All he could feel was the burning coming from inside him. The need to figure out what was happening. His vision started to blur, his movements started to grow even more erratic, more desperate and he started to move around in a way that made sense to figure out who was there. Someone is watching. Someone is always watching. They’re watching, nononono, i need to find out

Dick suddenly felt tight hands gripping his shoulders shaking him back and forth, he could also hear faint yelling. But none of it mattered. He started resisting against the hold, moving wildly. He just needed to figure out who’s watching.

The yelling got louder but Dick still couldn’t make out much of it, his mind foggy with only one thing mattering.

"Don’t," Jason called out sharply, his voice cutting through sharply"Don’t shut me out, Dick."

But it was too late. Dick was already slipping, the walls around him crumbling faster than he could rebuild them. And Jason—stubborn, infuriating Jason—wasn’t going anywhere.
In the haze of the scene before him Dick suddenly felt a sharp prick at his neck. And everything went black.

Chapter Text

Jason had seen Dick push himself countless times over the edge before—take hits, brush off pain, keep going when he clearly shouldn’t—but this? This was something else entirely. Dick wasn't just making reckless mistakes like he was before, and he wasn't just tired or burnt out—he was insane, he looked frantic, chasing something invisible, his movements were sharp and full of purpose but uncoordinated. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, like he was caught in some kind of waking nightmare. Jason had never seen his brother look so terrifying.

Jason had yelled, grabbed the man’s shoulders, he had even thrown a batarang past him to get him to wake up—nothing worked. Dick didn't even flinch. He wasn't even just ignoring Jason, he seemed to not even realize he was there at all.

Something was wrong. Really wrong. This wasn’t exhaustion or stress—this was chemical. Drugged. It had to be.

Before Dick could hurt himself, or god forbid a civilian—Dick would never have forgiven himself, Jason moved in, pulling the sedative from his belt. He hesitated for only a second, then jabbed the needle into Dick’s neck. In a second Dick’s whole body slacked and his eyes shut. Jason caught him before he hit the ground.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jason muttered under his breath, hoisting Dick over his shoulder and starting towards the apartment.

Jason crouched on the rooftop, the weight of Dick’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. His breath misted in the cold air of Blüdhaven’s winter. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. Not by a long shot.

“Oracle, you there?” Jason’s voice was low but tense as he tapped the comm in his ear on the way to Dick’s apartment.

In a second, Barbara’s voice spoke in his ear. “I’m here, Red Hood. What 's going on?

“I was patrolling in Blüd with Nightwing. Something’s seriously wrong with Nightwing. He was…” Jason hesitated, trying to figure out how to word what happened. “Acting insane. For the whole night he was making mistakes he normally would never make, but for the last few minutes he was full-on psychotic. Chasing shadows, not responding to anything, like he was sleepwalking. I think he has been compromised.”

Barbara’s voice immediately sharpened. “What do you mean, ‘psychotic’ what's Nightwings status?”

Jason shifted and began making his way towards the fire escape, praying that Dick’s neighbors weren't too nosy. “He is not physically injured, but he's definitely not right. I had to…” He grimaced, remembering what happened. “I had to knock him out. Had to use a tranquilizer on him.”

“You what?” Barbara’s disbelief hit him like a slap.

“What the hell else was I supposed to do? He was a danger to himself. Look, I’m taking him back to his place now. I think he’s been drugged with something. We need to test him.”

Barbara was silent thinking for a second. “All right. Take a blood sample and send it to me. I’ll have Red Robin analyze it.”

Jason froze for a moment as he reached the window to Dick’s apartment. “Really? Can’t you just do it?” His voice laced with irritation.

“He’s the best person for this,” Barbara replied evenly. “And you know it. Red Robin’s got the lab and the expertise to figure this out fast.”

Jason grunted as he stepped back into the apartment, carefully laying Dick on the couch. “Fine. But Tim better not run off to Bruce with this. Dick didn’t want him involved.”

“He won’t,” Barbara assured him. “I’ll make sure he keeps quiet. Just get me the sample.”

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He’d better. I don’t need Bruce being all Bat-Dad breathing down my neck right now.”

“Focus on Nightwing, Red Hood,” Barbara snapped. “Not your issues with Batman.”

Jason cut the comms with an eyeroll, setting about his work. He found a first-aid kit in the bathroom under the sink, rummaging for a needle and vials. His hands were steady, though his mind was anything but. This wasn’t the Nightwing he knew. The guy who would crack jokes mid fight, who seemed unshakable, impressing everyone no matter how bad the situation was. Seeing him like this—unhinged, erratic—was like watching a skyscraper crumble to say the least.

Jason moved to the small case he’d brought with him, pulling out a compact blood analyzer. It wasn’t cutting-edge by batcave standards, but it was enough to get the job done. He filled the vial with Dick’s blood, sealed it and slid the vial into the slot. The device spinned, scanning the blood sample. Within seconds, the data was transmitted securely to oracles network, Tim would have it on his end in moments,

“Sample’s on its way,” Jason muttered to Barbara into the Comms.

“Okay, got it, sending it to Red right now.” Barbara replied immediately

“Tell Tim to work fast.”

With that Jason closed the comms and grabbed a glass from the kitchen, filled it with water, and placed it next to the couch. Dick’s breathing was steady, but his face was pale, his forehead damp with sweat.

Jason leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, still staring at Dick with the corner of his eyes. His mind was running through everything like it was some kind of crime scene checklist.
Dick had been somewhat fine earlier—at least he was still functioning. There wasn’t any obvious lead-up to the meltdown. Other than a few minor mistakes and wrong steps, no reports of strange behavior when they talked in the field. But then again, would he really have noticed? Dick was good at hiding what was going on in his head. Too good.

He replayed the night in his head. No visible injuries except ones from patrol. No real warning signs he could point to for the explosion. One moment, they were talking and making jokes, and the next he was spiraling.

His gaze flicked back to Dick’s unconscious form on the couch. Fear toxin? Some new variant of venom? Either way it had to be potent to mess him up this badly.

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to piece it together. Fear toxin? That was his first instinct, but it didn't exactly fit. Crane’s victims did not act like this—they froze, paralyzed in terror, unable to move properly. This wasn’t fear. It was more like chaos and paranoia. Like someone wanted Dick to burn himself out. Plus they’d all been exposed to so much fear toxin through their years being vigilantes that Dick would not react to a normal dosage of fear toxin.

He pushed off the counter and began pacing. Dick didn't get careless. If he’d been caught off guard, it was because someone had done their homework, or because he’d trusted the wrong person.

Jason sank into the armchair opposite to the couch. His mind raced with possibilities, narrowing down leads, and circling back to what little evidence he had. Venom was also unlikely—it didn't act like this. But was this something new? Nothing similar was in Dick’s never ending useless pile of paper containing possible leads.

Whatever was in his system had been waiting, lying dormant until something triggered it.

Whoever it was, they’d made one mistake—they underestimated how many people had Dick’s back.

The comm in his ear buzzed. Jason answered it with a clipped, “Go ahead.”

“It’s me,” Came Tim’s voice. “I’ve analyzed the sample. There’s definitely something in Dick's system. It’s not like anything I’ve seen before, but there’s a strand similar to fear toxin. It’s been in his system for a few days, and it looks like it activates when his heart rate spikes. Adrenaline, frustration… a buildup of anything like that could set it off.”

Jason’s jaw tightened. “Great. Can you fix it?”

“I’ve synthesized something that might help settle him down for now,” Tim replied “I don’t think it will work as a cure just yet, but it should suppress the effects for now. I’m bringing it over.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m bringing it over,” Tim repeated, his tone firm. “This isn't something you can handle alone, Hood.”

“I’m not alone” Jason said, voice clipped.

Tim sighed. “Look, this isn’t about us. It’s about Dick. And he needs both of us right now.”

Jason exhaled sharply. “Fine. But you’d better keep your mouth shut about this. Especially to Bruce.”

Tim’s irritation was evident in his voice. “I already told Oracle I wouldn’t. But for the record, I think Bruce should know. If something happened to Dick—”

“Yeah well, he didn’t want Bruce knowing, so stay in your lane,” Jason interrupted.

Tim’s voice cooled. “I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

Jason ended the call and slumped back in his chair, running a hand down his face. The tension in his chest refused to ease. He’d seen Dick hurt before, seen him bleed, seen him barely cling to life. But this? This was different. It wasn’t just physical. Whatever was in his system was messing with his mind, warping it into something unrecognizable. And that terrified Jason more than he cared to admit.

He glanced over to the unconscious figure on the couch. “You better pull through this, Golden Boy,” he muttered to himself. “I can’t babysit your ass forever.”

Jason took a moment to think through what Tim said. That trigger… His eyes narrowed as the realization hit. Dick’s heart rate. It had spiked right before everything went to hell—his breathing quickening, frustration bubbling over. It wasn't random. Whatever this was, it was chemical, reactive. Designed to wait for the right moment to strike. If it was triggered by stress or adrenaline, it explained the mistakes, the uncharacteristic stumbles.

Then there was also the timing. Tim’s analysis said the substance had been in Dick’s system for days. Days. That narrowed things down. Whoever dosed him had to have been close enough to pull it off without him noticing. A rogue from one of his Blüdhaven cases? Someone in the city 's underworld? Or—Jason’s jaw tightened—someone closer? Someone who knew how to get to Dick without raising any alarms.

The faint sound of footsteps outside Dicks door woke him up from his thoughts. Jason’s hand instinctively went to the gun at his hip, but relaxed when he saw Tim’s familiar silhouette through the window. A moment later Tim stepped in, carrying a small case.

“Let’s get to work,” Tim said, his tone all business.

Jason nodded, silently praying they weren’t too late.

Chapter Text

As soon as Tim walked into his brother's apartment, he was greeted by the sight of said brother sprawled on the couch, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Bruises painted Dick’s face with dried blood that looked days old still on his hair. But it was the hollow, restless look in his half closed eyes that made Tim’s stomach churn. For a moment Tim froze, this is not the Dick Grayson he knew.

Tim’s hand trembled slightly as he adjusted the syringe with the antidote. The vacant look in Dick’s eyes earlier, and the paranoia Jason had described—it terrified Tim in a way he did not want to admit even to himself.

Jason stood nearby silently, with his eyes crossed as he leaned against the wall. Tim caught the briefest flicker of concern on Jason’s face, something Tim was not used to seeing from someone who tried so hard to pretend he didn't care.

“Is it going to work?” Jason’s voice was stringed, breaking the silence

Tim exhaled slowly. “It should stabilize him, at least for now.” He didn't look up as he continued “But Jason, we need to be careful. Whatever’s in his system, it’s calculated. Precise.”

“Figures. Someone is definitely targeting him.”

Tim Knelt beside the couch. “I just hope this buys us some time.”

Carefully Tim injected the antidote in Dick’s neck, for a moment nothing happened. Then slowly dick’s eyes began to flutter, the tension in his muscles easing. Jason stepped closer, holding his breath.

Slowly dick’s unfocused eyes opened. He blinked a few times looking confused before groaning and shifting on the couch. His vision narrowed between Tim and Jason, eyes confused “What…. What the hell happened to me?” Dick’s voice was hoarse and dry enough to make Tim flinch.

“You were acting crazy out there, I had to give you something to calm down.” Jason said as calmly as he could with brows furrowed. “You were—”

The confusion in Dick’s eyes slowly shifted to anger as he looked in between them

“You drugged me?” Dick interrupted before Jason could continue, sitting up quickly and wincing at the effort. His glare was cold, colder than what Time was used to. “You didn't think to ask me first?”

Tim stood to the side watching Jason and Dick frown at each other.

Jason stepped forward, with his arms crossed. “You were losing it out there, Dickhead. It fucking scared me. I had to step in before you got yourself killed”. Jason said with a tight voice.

“I didn't need your help!” Dick snapped, though his voice was cracking at the seams. “I don’t need you to go and drug me whenever you want, I may have been a little off but I had it under control.”

Jason barked a humorless laugh. “Yeah, sure. ‘Under control’. You were two seconds away from ruining yourself into the ground. You looked like a dog with rabies out there. Whatever’s happening to you, it's not normal.”

Tim finally stepped from behind Jason and raised his hands to calm down Dick. “Dick, we’re just trying to help. You’ve been running yourself into the ground and we— we’re worried. Seriously man, whatever's happening to you, it’s not normal.”

Dick stopped for a moment. His breathing was labored and his hands were trembling slightly as he started to rub his way too red eyes. Finally, he muttered under his breath, “Yeah, okay something’s definitely wrong with me right now.”

Jason and Tim exchanged worried looks, something unspoken passing between them.

Dick leaned back on the couch, his muscles relaxing slightly, the exhaustion clear in every line in his face. “I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s like… it’s inside me. Like there’s something inside me turning on the danger alarm every second. Eating away at everything.”

Tim crouched next to the couch, his voice soft as if he was talking to a kicked puppy. “That’s why we’re here. We can help you figure this out. Together.”

Dick looked up at him trying to show his defensive armor but too exhausted to do so. He nodded slowly, though his shoulders stayed tense. “Fine. But I don’t want you two doing anything behind my back. You are already doing more than you need to and this is my city. My problem. My responsibility.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at that. “Your problem, huh? You don’t look like you’re in shape to solve anything right now, so that kind of makes you our problem.”

“Jason,” Tim warned quietly, shooting him a look.

Jason grumbled but kept not adding anything else. “Your problem, huh? But you’re going to have to start trusting us more to make it through this shit.”

Dick couldn't summon enough energy to retaliate, instead he just shifted on the couch and muttered. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Within seconds Dick was out cold while Tim and Jason just stood with furrowed gazes, watching Dick’s chest rise and fall in a comforting rhythm. The tension between them felt almost as heavy as the air in the apartment.

Tim finally broke the silence speaking first, his voice barely above a whisper. “He looks worse than I thought.”

Jason exhaled sharply. “No kidding, I haven’t seen him like this ever. And he is too stubborn to really let us do anything about it.”

Tim hesitated. “He agreed to help faster than he normally would.”

Jason retorted “Exactly meaning there is definitely something wrong with him, we can’t just sit still and wait for his ass to wake up.”

Tim sighed. “The only thing he asked is to not do anything without him.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, he is not thinking straight and we both know it, and you haven’t even seen how crazy he was acting back there. Plus I didn’t promise him shit. We can’t just sit here and watch him falling apart.”

Tim sighed but didn’t argue back. “We stay close. If he wakes up we can’t have him thinking we ditched him or that we’ve gone behind his back.”

Jason smirked faintly. “Sure thing Timbo. Wouldn’t want you losing any sleep over it even though that is exactly what we are doing”

Chapter Text

Jason sighed dramatically, with his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall (unhelpfully), as he watched Tim sweep the room with his scanner. “This is a complete waste of time. Despite how he acts Dick is not actually stupid enough to let someone plant cameras in his own apartment without noticing.”

Tim didn’t even glance up from where he was crouched near the bookshelf, methodically checking for all and any signs of tampering.

Jason would never admit it but he always found it a bit creepy when Tim entered full on detective mode, it was almost worse than Bruce.

Tim sighed acknowledging he heard Jason“Yeah? Well have you seen his state back there? He barely knows how many fingers he has, and I told you we need to keep close anyway.”

Jason scowled, but he couldn’t really argue with that. The image of Dick back there in the streets chasing air— wild eyed, barely functioning, and erratic in a way Jason never wanted to see—was still engraved into his memory. “Still” He muttered carefully. “It’s really not like someone could just walty in here and plant bugs without any use picking up on something. Even if he didn’t realize anything there is no way Babs didn’t”

Tim stopped for a moment with brows furrowed. “If these people somehow managed to fool babs and plant something here then we really are screwed.”

Jason hummed in agreement and watched as Tim continued to run the small scanner along the walls and furniture. The device emitted a soft sound filling the otherwise complete silence between them.

Nothing. Nothing at all. No hidden cameras, no obvious surveillance of any kind.

Jason Huffed. “Told you. Waste of time. we should be looking—”

beep

Tim’s head snapped up immediately. Jason tensed, his hands instinctively going to his crowbar.

“Wait.” Tim muttered quietly adjusting the scanner’s sensitivity. “It’s not in his apartment.”

Jason Frowned. “Where the hell then?”

Tim moved without a word towards the window, watching as the scanner started to emit more subtle signals. “It 's nearby. Not in here, but close. With his state, no wonder he didn’t notice it. Could be in the building, could be on a nearby rooftop—wherever it is, it’s blocked from Oracle’s range, but it’s close enough to keep tabs on him.

Jason’s jaw tightened. “So someone really was watching him?”

Tim’s brows furrowed as he adjusted the scanners settings, trying to find some way to isolate the exact source. “Whatever it is it’s not normal, it's not in the batcomputer’s network and the thing’s bouncing signals—different encryptions all over the place. I can’t tell if it’s a camera, tracker, or something else.”

Jason Groaned. “Great. So we don’t even know if these assholes are listening to us right now.”

Tim tapped on his comm. “Oracle, are you getting this?”

Barbara’s voice crackled through. “Yeah, I see it. The signal’s weird—definitely not standard Blüdhaven surveillance. It’s also not military grade, maybe something black market.”

Jason rolled his eyes, voice a bit tight, “Of course it’s black market. Because why wouldn’t Dickiebird’s life be a goddamn action thriller?”

Barbara sighed, clearly tired. “I’m gonna keep trying to examine tonight’s security footage, call me if you find anything. Oracle out.”

Tim closed his comm and continued moving toward the fire escape window. The scanner was beeping more now—almost non stop , indicating they were getting closer. He pushed the window open and carefully climbed out onto the metal steps, scanning the surrounding area. Jason followed, still grumbling under his breath.

Then Jason stopped as he felt his foot nudge something small, something that stuck to his boot.

“What the hell—” Jason recoiled, jerking his foot back like he had just stepped on a pile of dog poop. He bent down, pulling out a small, oddly shaped object. It was about the size of a quarter, round and metallic without any clear text, but weirdly it was very sticky, like it had been attached to the fire escape for a while.

Jason carefully turned it over in his hands, and a feather was stuck slightly to his boot.

Jason’s face twisted in absolute disgust. “What. The. Hell.” He almost dropped it right then and there. “Why is it sticky? And why does it have a feather? What kind of horror movie crap is this?”

Tim rolled his eyes a bit amused at Jason at Jason's reaction. Tim snatched it from Jason before he could actually throw it off the roof and ruin any chance they had of figuring out what the hell was going on. “Jesus, Jason. Calm down maybe?”

Jason scowled, wiping his hands on his jacket like he just touched some kind of alien goo. “Dude. That thing is not even just weird anymore, it's straight up gross. And what’s with the feather? Who the hell leaves a feather on their surveillance equipment?”
Tim ignored him and continued examining the device carefully. “It’s not a camera. At least, not in the traditional sense. And it doesn’t seem to be on at the moment.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Then what is it?”

Tim turned it over in his hand and sighed. “I have no idea.”

Jason groaned again. “I hate this city. I seriously blame all this weird bullcrap on Blüdhaven.”

Tim tapped on his comm again. “Oracle, we found something. A device—it’s not a camera, but it was attached outside the window. I’m not sure what it does. It’s… weird. Sticky. And there’s a feather on it.”

Barbara was silent for a moment. Then, “A feather?”

Jason crossed his arms and spoke into his comm. “Yeah. A feather. And goo. It’s Seriously creepy.”

Tim ignored him. “I need better equipment to analyze this properly. I’m heading back to gotham. Hopefully the computer will have more info.”

Jason frowned. “You sure? B’s not gonna ask any questions?”

Tim smirked and waved him off. “Please. Bruce has at least three different life ending crises happening at any given moment. He won’t second guess me working in the case if I just tell him it's a young justice case.”

Jason snorted. “Fine, go play nerd in the Batcave. I’ll stay here as a babysitter and make sure our dear older brother doesn’t have another mental breakdown over nothing.”

Tim gave Jason a look. “At least try to be subtle about it,”

Jason smirked. “Subtle is practically my middle name.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Your middle name is ‘explosive liability’.”

Jason grinned. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

Tim sighed, shaking his head. “Just… Do your best to stop him from doing anything stupid.”

Jason Scoffed. “A little late for that.”

Tim didn’t argue. He just packed up the tracker and gave Jason a nod before heading out.

Jason exhaled in the now empty apartment, looking over all the wrecked again. “Alright Dickie. Let’s see if you will at least survive breakfast.”

Chapter Text

Dick slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light coming from the window. Some pain he couldn’t identify wrapped around his whole body. His muscles felt heavy and tired. He had a very distinct sensation of the surrounding air pinning him down. Dick was sure his body was still suffering from the after effect of whatever Jason had used to sedate him.

He exhaled slowly forcing his eyes to fully open. He could see the light filtering through the curtains. Dick was a bit confused but he could tell, he was in his own bed, his apartment except the sound of someone moving in his kitchen.

His kitchen.

He blinked a few times to force himself to wake up. He tried to sit up but the motion sent a sharp pain all throughout his body. He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face to shake off the fog still clinging to his mind. His mind was goggled back to reality with the scent of coffee and something warm drifting from the other room.

Then he heard Jason's voice.

“Oh, good. Sleeping Beauty’s finally up.”

Dick stood up without a word and walked to the kitchen where he met with the strange sight of the figure at his stove. Jason Todd. Cooking.

For a second he almost refused to process it. It was almost laughable, the sight of Jason—standing in his kitchen, flipping pancakes, which if dick was being honest surprisingly didn't look half bad at all. It felt a little surreal.

Dick blinked again and raised an eyebrow. “Am I still drugged? or is this some weird fever dream?”

Jason didn't even look up. “Nah, if this was a dream you wouldn’t look this ugly.”

Dick rolled his eyes, pressing a hand against his temple. Great. Perfect. As much as he loved his brother, the last thing he needed right now on top of the aching muscles and the lingering weight of whatever stupid shit was happening right now, was Jason making Dick his problem

He ignored the comment and sat down at the dining table next to the kitchen, wincing slightly as his back protested. The motion made his stomach churn slightly, despite how surprisingly delicious those pancakes looked—he felt…. off. He couldn't pinpoint it, but something wasn’t settling right inside him. It was probably the lingering effects of Jason sedating him last night. The reminder brings a wave of anger through him again.

Jason turned, tossing a plate onto the table. “Eat.”

Dick glanced at the food, then at Jason. “You made me breakfast?”

Jason shrugged like it was nothing. “You were unconscious for a while. Figured you’d wake up starving.”

There was no expectation in his voice, no smugness, no pointed remark about last night. Just the bare facts.

That somehow made it worse.

Dick hesitated before picking up his fork, his stomach still uneasy. He took slow bites, testing how he felt. The pancakes were… good. Jason had actually tried.

The anger he was feeling suddenly turned into guilt.

He swallowed, forcing a smirk. “Didn’t know you could cook.”

Jason sipped his coffee, unimpressed. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

"I don't know.... maybe because of your whole....." Dick stoped to think for a moment, and started to make explosion gestures with his hands. "Tendency to blow places up, I guess I just assumed it would be the same for cooking." He shrugged.

“And Alfred has a rifle collection, we all have hobbies doesn't mean it affects our cooking abilities. And thank god one of us can cook, or else we would be stuck with your shitty soggy bacon right now.”

“I make great pancakes and you know it.” Dick grinned.

Jason rolled without any real venom in his eyes and scoffed. “Well that’s pretty much the extent of everything you can cook.”

“Okay fair, I can’t really argue with that accusation.” Dick huffed a laugh, but it felt hollow. His body was still sluggish and that feeling that there was something deeply wrong going on stayed deep inside him.

Jason was watching him.

Not obviously, but Dick knew him too well to miss it. He could tell the way Jason’s eyes were tracking his movements, the way he was sitting with his shoulders still tense, as if he was waiting for Dick to do something stupid—slip up, maybe.
Dick forced himself to keep eating and ignored his stomach churning and Jason observing him like he was a ticking time bomb.

Then Jason spoke. “You good?”

Dick paused for a moment before meeting Jason’s gaze. He knew what Jason was really asking.
Are you spiralling? Should I be worried? Are you about to do something catastrophically stupid without telling anyone?

“Always.” Dick said, keeping his voice light.

Jason raised an eyebrow and Dick could tell he didn't buy it not even for a second.

The air between them somehow shifted, becoming weightier then before. Jason continued studying him, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, Dick had the unsettling sensation that Jason was looking at him like some Xray trying to figure out what was really wrong.

He set his fork down, letting out a slow breath. “Look… you don’t have to stay. Im really fine.”

Jason’s expression didn’t change. “That right?”

Dick nodded. “Yeah. I get it. I was out of control last night. That’s on me. But this—” He gestured vaguely to himself. “This is my problem. Not yours.”

Jason’s jaw tightened. “Oh, cool. Glad you are clearly so in control of things.”

Dick swallowed down the sharp irritation creeping into his throat. He didn’t want to fight. He couldn’t fight, not right now. He just needed Jason to leave.

“I mean it,” he said, voice even. “You don’t need to babysit me. I don’t know what the hell was happening, but I’ll deal with it.”

Jason leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was still, but Dick could feel the frustration rolling off him.

"Right,” Jason said flatly. “Because that has always worked out well for you.”

Dick clenched his jaw. He was too tired for this conversation. He really did not want to leave things on a bad note after Jason actually tried for once, but if being an asshole actually got Jason to leave him alone, then so be it.

He straightened his posture. “Yeah, like you are just the pillar of self control and not taking things too far.”

Jason sighed after a long moment, pushing off the counter. “Fine. You don’t want me here? I’m gone.”

Relief should’ve hit him. It didn’t.

“Appreciate it,” Dick muttered half heartedly.

Jason grabbed his jacket, his movements tense but didn’t move yet. He hesitated. That wasn’t normal.

“…You sure?” Jason asked, voice quieter this time.

Dick held his gaze, ignoring the way his stomach twisted. He had to shove Jason out before this turned into something heavier, something he couldn’t handle.

“Yeah,” he said.

Jason studied him for another second before nodding. “Don’t die while I’m gone.”

Dick exhaled a laugh. “No promises.”

Jason didn’t smile. He just shut the door behind him.

Dick sat there for a long moment, staring at the empty space Jason left behind.

He should’ve felt better now that Jason was gone.

He didn’t.