Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If someone were to ask Tim what the most stressful part of his daily life was, he would be hard-pressed to truthfully answer that. Anyone who knew him would probably assume it was the tightrope-level balancing act he had to maintain between his civilian life and his nighttime routine of being a Gotham vigilante. They might also guess it would be dealing with his family, who more often than not would rather commit various acts of violence against one another rather than properly communicate their feelings for a change. Hell, they may even guess that the stress of being a public figure was the worst. But there would all be dead wrong.

“Excuse me, Mr. Drake-Wayne?”

Tim snapped his eyes to the person speaking and resisted the urge to sigh. Meetings, really anything involving this godforsaken company, were more than enough to make him want to crawl out of his skin. He took a moment to clear his mind and focused his attention on the task at hand.

“Yes, Mr. Miller?”

Upon being given even the smallest bit of attention the man began to drone on about something or another. Truthfully, Tim didn’t care at all. Most of the time, these meetings or interactions just served to add more stress to his life. As if he needed any more stress, given his daily routine. About halfway through the man’s monologue Tim began to take in what he was saying and felt the need to speak up.

“I’m sorry. Not to interrupt, but it almost sounds like you’re suggesting cutting funding to the rehab clinics in the East End?” While that was just a small portion of the programs Wayne Enterprises funded, Tim had been fighting tooth and nail to keep any programs they currently had without any changes for the worse. It was even worse while Bruce had been lost in time and he had initially had to step in as acting CEO. Getting anything done at that point was nearly impossible.

It was an open secret that most of the board members didn’t respect him. And honestly? Tim got it. It was seen as the pinnacle of nepotism. He could handle the snide comments when they thought he wasn’t in earshot, or when they blatantly knew he would hear. That had been something he had been dealing with for almost as long as he could remember. What he refused to stand was the board members treating him like a puppet, or like they could continue dismantling his efforts without him putting up a fight.

At this line of questioning, Mr. Miller launched into a hasty explanation, citing some presentation that had been given earlier that week. He finished his monologue by claiming that somehow there was too little funding available. Given how much money was set aside for the various philanthropic programs that were running concurrently, that seemed just flat-out impossible. Tim cleared his throat and tightened his grip on the disposable cup of coffee he had gotten earlier that day.

”Let me be clear. That isn’t going to happen. I don’t care if it’s ‘not in the budget.’ We can make it work.” Tim took a surveying glance around the board members as he made this declaration. Most seemed like they couldn’t care less about what was going on, but the few who were paying attention had varying degrees of frustration or annoyance written plainly on their face. “Does anyone have any objections?” Without actually waiting for a response, he nodded. “Good. Now, unless anyone has any other complaints, I have an appointment I need to attend to.” A blatant lie. But it wouldn’t hurt anyone. Besides, he was already running behind on the few case files he was actively working on that week. It might do him some good to make some headway on those.

As he stood up and made his way out of the meeting room, his phone began to ring. Without breaking his stride, he retrieved the phone from his jacket pocket and glanced at the screen. Biting back a groan, he debated ignoring the call. In the end, he decided not to. It would just end up causing more stress. Taking a deep breath and shoving his feelings down, he hit the answer button.

“What Dick?”

“Hey Tim-Bit! How’s one of my favorite brothers doing?” The cheerful voice that greeted Tim was nothing short of ear-grating.

“Hey Dick, I’m good. What’s up, did you need something?”

A scandalized gasp met Tim’s ears.”Why Tim,” Dick started, extending his name out. “Why would I possibly need something? Can’t I call just to have a nice conversation?”

It took nearly everything Tim had not to snap at him. Because no, Dick hadn’t called him ‘just to talk’ in such a long time. Anytime they talked, it was about Tim either doing a favor for him or he called to yell at him for messing something up. Instead of saying anything, Tim took just a single moment to shove those feelings down again. Right now, that didn’t matter.

At the moment of awkward silence, Dick cleared his throat. “Well then. Since I do have you here, would you be able to do me a tiny favor? You don’t need to go out of your way or anything. I just need you to drop off that project you were working on for me.” Dick was careful not to let any detail slip that might draw unneeded attention. Tim knew what he was talking about. It was a case file dealing with a series of robberies at various chemical plants that had taken place over the previous month. He had been so busy he hadn’t even had a chance to properly start working on that file yet.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll get that to you later this week. With everything going on I haven’t been able to get that project taken care of yet.”

There was a huff on the other end of the line, and Tim braced himself to either be berated or yelled at. Like he didn’t already do enough for Dick outside of working on this for him. But it didn’t come.

“Alright, no biggie! God knows you do enough around here, I just appreciate you doing this at all,” Dick said. Tim didn’t have a response to that, so he just made a noncommittal noise.

They ended up talking for a few more minutes about nothing of major importance. Towards the end of the call, they agreed to meet up that following Sunday so Tim could drop off the case file. Tim would have preferred to have had a few more days, but at this point, he really didn’t feel like he had much of a choice.

After they hung up Tim sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He went to take a sip of his coffee and was disappointed to find it empty.

He’d definitely need more coffee to get through the next week. A lot more coffee.

—————————————————————————————————————

Tim would be the first to admit that his way of handling stress wasn’t always the healthiest. He’d dealt with his fair share of frankly borderline dangerous coping mechanisms. But he had always been able to justify it to himself. When the alternative was failing or disappointing someone, what harm was it to stay up a little later than normal to finish a case? How could it hurt if he worked through lunch without stopping to make sure he could actually ensure everything was handled? He knew he could deal with everything later.

While every once in a while his habits would draw the odd comment, nothing ever really came from it. Tim knew how to act normally enough to ease most people’s concerns. Although to be fair it wasn’t like anyone ever normally looked hard enough to have concerns. Tim knew what he could handle and prided himself on being as independent as possible.

However, there were definitely times when Tim knew he could push himself too far if he wasn’t careful.

Tim was startled at the sound of his phone ringing. He glanced around him but didn’t see it at first. Papers littered his apartment. Practically every available surface was covered in wadded-up pages and files stuffed to the brim with reports or half-finished research. Empty soda cans were strewn about. Oops. He guessed he got a little too carried away again. He stood and winced as his muscles protested the sudden movement. He sifted through the pages and scrambled for the phone when he finally located it underneath a file he didn’t even remember working on.

He didn’t even look at the caller ID before hitting the answer button. “Hello?” Tim asked as he began to half-heartedly pick up the mess that had accumulated over the last several days.

There was static on the other end of the line for a moment. “Hello?” Tim tried again. After a few moments, the static began to clear up. “Sorry ‘bout that. Signal here is absolute shit.” Tim recognized the modulated voice instantly. But why the hell was Jason of all people calling him at nearly 3 in the morning? Before he even had a second to voice his thoughts, Jason continued. “Listen, I’ve got a lead on that case you were working on for Dickhead. Meet me down by the docks in the next hour. It’ll be by the chemical processing plant that just closed down about two weeks ago. Think we’ve got a leg up on the next robbery but we won’t if you don’t get your ass down here pronto.”

Tim took a second to process all this. This was… not ideal. That would be the understatement of the millennia. Even though the two of them had been on speaking terms for a while now, Tim definitely still didn’t feel comfortable around him. Their past may be the past, but the scars from that time still remained.

“What about Nightwing? Wouldn’t he be better for this?” Tim tried, not quite desperate to find an excuse but very quickly becoming so. His heart nearly sank at the scoff he heard on the end of the line as his last hope was thoroughly crushed.

“He’s back in Bludhaven. Besides, I need someone who knows what he’s doing and is at least partially familiar with this case.” Tim blinked. That was about as close to a compliment as Jason had ever given him.

“Tick tock Timmy, you in or not? I could always see if Black Bat or Spoiler is available.”

”I’ll be there.” Tim spat out before he even realized he had agreed. He took a look around his apartment and sighed. Guess his housekeeping would have to wait. Not that it mattered, he barely even lived here himself sometimes, he didn’t need to worry about someone else judging him.

“Good. Remember, one hour, by the docks. Meet you there.” The click at the end of the line signaled the end of the conversation. Tim let out the sigh that had been building inside of him since basically the start of that call. That went about as well as any conversation with Jason normally went. He threw the paperwork that he had been holding back onto the floor. He’d need coffee before heading out. And some food other than the protein shake he had drunk earlier that day.

Tim took a look at his phone and groaned at the sight of the clock. He didn’t really have time. Besides, he doubted either would help the building headache that had started behind his right eye.

But it was fine. He’d take care of this for Jason, then he could finally get some sleep that wasn't just a few cat naps broken up by periods of binge research or another pointless board meeting that apparently was ‘important to the future of Wayne Enterprises.’

He could handle this. Just a little bit more. He rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and began getting ready to head out to settle this case once and for all.

—————————————————————————————————————

Gotham was a city that was never really quiet. While this was a trait common amongst most metropolitan areas, Gotham always felt like it was only one or two steps away from total mayhem.

Tim felt like the city was screaming tonight. The typical music of the city that had at this point had practically become a comforting white noise or static had now become a roar, nearly impossible to drown out.

The worst part? Tim couldn’t tell if there was truly something different about the city or if he just couldn’t get out of his head. Gods, he just felt like he needed a moment or two to gather his thoughts. To let everything from the past couple of weeks or quite frankly months just wash over him.

But time was a luxury he couldn’t afford right now. He tried to push it from his mind as he rode his motorbike down the barren road. He was almost at the rendezvous point and needed to make sure that he wouldn’t pose any kind of liability. The nerves he typically felt before a mission seemed to be muted, almost as though they were being felt under a layer of cotton. Still there, but obscured. That was good, he supposed. It was better than the alternative.

He parked his bike a block or so away and began to make the rest of the way on foot, keeping his eye out for Jason.

It took a few minutes, but he finally caught sight of him. Jason was leaning against one of the warehouses that resided by the dock. Even though Tim couldn’t see his face on account of the helmet he was wearing, he could tell that Jason was pissed. Better play this safe then.

He hunched his shoulders and tried his best to look sheepish. “Hey Hood, sorry if I’m late. You know how this city is at night.” Jason tilted his head slightly but didn’t say anything.

Tim cleared his throat at the awkward silence but continued, wincing as a slight tremor in his voice emerged. “So, what’s the plan? You said there was intel or something that might actually help us catch the person who’s been raiding the chemical plants.”

Another beat of silence. “Yep,” Jason finally replied, the hesitation in his response doing nothing to ease Tim’s worries.

Jason began to explain the plan. Apparently, he had gotten word from someone (Tim immediately figured that meant information that he had beaten out of someone who was of interest) that the robberies were being performed by an amateur group of people attempting to manufacture their own version of Scarecrow’s fear toxin. How they had managed to evade capture for so long was anybody’s guess.

“So,” Jason started. “We found out that there would be another robbery tonight. They’ve gotten lucky so far, and it looks like they’ve gotten cocky. From what I’ve gathered they’ll only have maybe a half dozen or so people here. Figured this would be our best bet to cut them off and maybe get some actual useful information, maybe even figure out who the hell is behind this.”

Tim could begrudgingly admit that he was impressed. “Alright, better than anything Nightwing or I had managed to scrounge up. So we just go there and stake it out?”

“Precisely. As soon as they arrive we take them out, figure out who the actual ringleader is, and maybe kick a few goons’ teeth in while we’re at it.” If Tim could see Jason’s face he knew he would be grinning.

So that was that. They got into position and settled in. As much as Tim hated to admit it, doing an actual stakeout was painfully boring. They had set up to make sure they could keep an eye on the entrance of the chemical plant while remaining out of sight. There wasn’t much else to look at.

They didn’t talk either. There had been a few weak attempts at conversation that had ultimately died out after a couple of sentences. Tim was surprised at how much effort Jason was putting into it, but he figured Jason was just trying not to go insane from boredom like he was.

As time drifted on, his mind wandered. He kept thinking about everything that had happened recently. Not that it was all that different than his life normally was. Just the same shit in a different font.

Working with Jason was so far proving to be… tolerable. At least he wasn’t trying to talk his ear off like Dick would have already done by now, and he was less likely to lash out and attack him than Damian was. To be honest, of the three of the other Robins, Jason was the one Tim probably trusted the most. He had always followed through with what he said he was gonna do, and at least Tim usually knew where he stood with Jason, even if it wasn’t in a favorable position.

Tim felt his eyes drift close for a moment and his eyes shot open. Still nothing. God, he was so tired. The ringing that had started in his ears in the silence also didn’t help.

It was in that half-lucid, half-awake state that he felt Jason punch his shoulder.

“Eyes up, Red Robin, we’ve got company,” Jason snapped. Sure enough, Tim saw a few figures creeping their way towards the plant. Looks like the intel Jason had grabbed was right, there was barely anyone here.

The two of them quickly got to work. The plan was to follow them in after a few moments and work on picking them off one at a time.

After a bit, they crept from their hiding place and made their way over to the entrance. They silently entered the plant and saw that the goons had broken into two groups. It was an easy decision to split up and tackle the groups simultaneously.

Tim followed the group that had decided to make their way upstairs to one of the R&D labs. As he stalked the group he began to feel his mind wander once more, but he forced himself to pay attention to the task at hand. Now wasn’t the time to go off daydreaming.

He noiselessly entered the lab and approached one of the goons who was struggling to get into a locked cabinet.

“C’mon, stupid fucking thing.” The goon mumbled under their breath. Tim almost took pity on them. Almost.

In a flash, the goon hit the ground. They were clutching their knee in pain from where Tim had struck them with his bo staff. Before they were able to get another word out Tim struck them again, this time a blow to the head. The goon fell silent. He didn’t need everyone to be conscious just yet.

At the noise of one of their companions falling the two other criminals in the room were alerted to what was going on. Tim got to work to take them down as fast as possible. At this point he just wanted this to be done and over with.

He stalked towards the two of them at the other end of the lab, keeping his staff at arm's length. He surveyed the two men for any weapons that he might need to worry about. It didn’t seem like there was anything he needed to worry about other than the knives both men carried and did the smaller of the two crooks have a baseball bat? Whatever. Tim could keep an eye on that.

The larger of the two men immediately swung at Tim, attempting to slash at him with the knife that was clutched in his hand. Tim easily blocked the blow, ducking low and swinging his staff towards the ground at his feet to knock the man off balance.

Tim had thought that would be enough to bring the man down, but he was wrong. The man regained his balance promptly and turned towards Tim again, this time forgoing the knife to just attempt to punch him as hard as possible. Tim ducked again, but this time the criminal clipped the side of Tim’s head.

This was bad. Tim immediately tried to back up and give himself some space. The ringing in his ears that had been ever-present tonight seemed to become ten times louder. He needed to get out of this now.

He charged at the man, using his momentum to strike at his solar plexus. With an “oomph,” the man took a few steps back and began to gasp for air, struggling to regain his breath. Before he had a chance to recover Tim struck again, this time it was enough. The man fell to the ground and was silent.

Tim took stock of himself. The ringing in his ears still subsisted and his head hurt worse than before. But other than that he was no worse for wear.

He only took a moment. But that moment was enough.

The next thing he registered was a sharp pain tearing through his right shoulder. Hot, blinding pain ratcheted down his arm. Unable to hold back a hiss of pain, Tim turned around and swore. The other goon, he’d completely forgotten about him for a moment and now he was paying the price for being so careless. The crook in question had an honest-to-god look of surprise like he hadn’t believed he’d managed to land a blow. He’d yanked the blade out as soon as he had struck, leaving an open gash in his shoulder that was quickly becoming wet and warm.

Keeping his arm as still as possible, Tim switched his staff to his off-hand. He knew he either had to get the hell out of here and try to get Hood for support or try to disarm and knock the last criminal out on his own.

But the goon was in front of the only exit in the lab. He didn’t have a choice.

He attempted to knock him off balance, once again swinging his staff low to the ground. It didn’t work, because of fucking course it didn’t. Before he could try again, try something, anything, he felt his body hit the floor before any pain had actually registered. Right. The baseball bat. He had forgotten about that after being, Y’know, stabbed. His side lit up from where the impact had been made and the ringing in his ears was so loud he was almost sure he had been deafened.

Still, these suits were meant to hold up to bullets, so a baseball bat wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Still hurt though. He couldn’t tell if anything was broken.

He grit his teeth and forced himself to stand, before he could think he made his move, charging at the man again. This time he didn’t even get a chance to make an impact. The man grabbed him by his right arm and wrenched him to the side. Tim had to bite back a scream this time as it felt like the wound was being stretched.

God. He was just so… tired. At this point, he didn’t even know what to do. He tried backing up while remaining on the ground. He was just trying to put some kind of distance between the two of them. His back hit the front of a desk in the middle of the room. His head was swimming and when he looked up at the man standing a few feet from him, his vision was blurry and he was seeing double.

Before he could think or even attempt anything else he felt himself momentarily deafened even further by the sound of a gunshot. He flinched, tilting his head down and keeping his eyes on the floor. He expected to feel some sort of pain, or even just the heat of the missed bullet if the idiot was that bad of a shot at close range. But it never came.

Instead, the goon canted to the side and fell, striking his head on the vinyl floor tiles. Then there was nothing but the sound of Tim breathing heavy and heavy boots making their way across the floor. He didn’t even lift his head. He was bleeding, possibly had broken ribs, and was out of options.

He sat there for a moment. Then that moment stretched into several. After almost a full minute he raised his head. It was Hood. He honestly didn’t know what to think.

“Well,” Hood drawled. “I didn’t expect this. C’mon Red, don’t tell me you’re getting sloppy on me now.” Even with the voice modulator, there was something in his voice that hinted towards anger, maybe impatience? Honestly, Tim didn’t care which, he wasn’t in the mood for a lecture right now. He wasn’t in the mood for much of anything.

That tone turned into something sharper when Tim failed to give any sort of answer. “Seriously, what was that? I’ve seen you take out guys like that without even breaking a sweat. Did one of them catch you off guard or something?”

Still nothing. Even if Tim answered him, he wouldn’t know what to say. He honestly didn’t think something as simple as being tired would be a good excuse.

Jason took a few steps closer until he was nearly standing over him.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

Silence. Tim felt his chest seize as he struggled to process the question. Too many answers to count. None of them are the right answer to this joke of a question. The muted feeling he had been experiencing since tonight had started suddenly felt like an exposed nerve. Everything felt too bright and loud. But most of all, he felt anger. He had to bite his tongue to stop from blurting out his first thoughts.

A failure of a son to two fathers, an even worse failure of a vigilante sometimes. Someone who felt like they could barely function on a normal day. Someone who always felt like they were one wrong move away from falling apart completely.

His heart began to pound and he didn’t know if he could even take a full breath in if he tried. He needed to get out of here, now.

He tried to scramble back but just ended up hitting his back against the desk. He clambered to his feet and began striding forward, fully intending to walk past Hood. “Are we done here then?” He asked, the deadness in his voice shocking even him.

“Hey, no! You don’t get to do that after what just happened.” Hood grabbed Tim’s left arm.

“Don’t touch me!” Tim cried out, yanking his arm back, and was shocked that Jason actually listened. He needed out, now. He used the older vigilantes' confusion to brush past him, practically running out of the door.

He heard Jason shout behind him but he didn’t care. He sprinted as best as he could out of the plant. Considering the fact that he was still dealing with an open shoulder wound and possible broken ribs, it wasn’t very fast. But it was enough.

He didn’t remember making it to his bike. The next thing he could remember was throwing himself onto it and taking off, welcoming the wind that felt like a shock to his system.

The ride home was blurry. He was lucky he was even able to make it home in one piece. He slipped into his apartment. Once the door was closed and he was truly alone, he let himself sink to the ground, curling in on himself. He needed to get out of the suit and tend to his shoulder as soon as possible. But that would be exhausting.

Tim felt his eyes begin to drift close and tried to fight to keep them open. But after everything that had transpired today, no not even today, these past months, he was fighting a losing battle. His eyes drifted close and he finally felt nothing.

Chapter Text

Tim awoke gradually, his senses returning one at a time. The first thing he was acutely aware of was just how cold he felt. He shivered and attempted to bring his limbs in closer to the core of his body. His shoulder screamed at him in protest, and he knew in the back of his mind that he would need to tend to that soon. He peeled his eyes open and winced at the glare of the bright lights that seemed intent on stabbing into his retinas. 

A wave of dizziness and nausea hit him as he tried to sit up, forcing him to remain lying on the floor in fear of retching. 

As much as he would like to say that he couldn’t remember the previous night, every detail returned to him in startling clarity. At least he thought it was the previous night, he didn’t know how long he had been unconscious.

God, maybe if he just stayed here, everything would be ok. What was the worst that could happen?

A rustling noise caught his attention. He turned his head to the left; the only thing of note was the window. The window that was sliding open. Before he even had a chance to feel fear, he felt a wave of frustration as he saw the figure slip through the open frame. Jason. Of fucking course it was Jason. 

Upon entering the apartment Jason took his helmet off and set it aside, nearly throwing it in the process. He strode across the room, kicking aside the empty food wrappers and soda cans that littered the floor. 

He didn’t come very close to Tim. Jason would have had to have moved quite a bit closer to be able to reach him. He almost seemed to be waiting for Tim to make the first move.

The silence was palpable. The two vigilantes didn’t speak, intent on waiting for the other to break. Tim cleared his throat and finally ended the stalemate. 

“Did you come here to finish the job?”

There’s a tick in Jason’s jaw as he bit out, “Don’t joke about that. Not now.”

That made Tim laugh. Much louder than he had anticipated. “Oh, come on, gallows humor is how all Bats cope. This isn’t anything too unusual.” He tried to sit up but immediately squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of dizziness rolled over him. 

A hand that had brushed up against his arm had him flinching backwards. He needed to get a hold of himself. “I’m fine,” he said. He forced his eyes open. 

Jason rolled his eyes. “Sure you are, kid. That’s why you look like death warmed over. Now, are you gonna let me actually help, or is it gonna be a fight?”

As much as Tim loathed asking for help, he knew he was in no position to turn him down. He may be stubborn, but he wasn’t an idiot. Most of the time, anyway. 

Tim let out a sigh. “Guess I don’t have much of a choice. Once you help patch me up, you can go. I can handle the rest.” Jason didn’t say anything, just held out a hand. Tim grabbed his hand and hauled himself up, leaning quite a bit on the older vigilante. They hobbled to the bathroom. Jason had Tim sit on the lid of the toilet while he started scavenging for medical supplies. While Jason was busy, Tim attempted to break the tension that had been mounting since Jason had arrived. 

“So, did you manage to get any intel at the plant before we left?” 

Jason let out a huff. “Is that seriously the most important thing right now?” Tim didn’t answer. After a few moments, Jason sighed. “Yeah, I managed to get some of the info out of one of the crooks before I went to see if you had found anything else.” Before he had to come chase Tim down, was left unsaid. 

“That’s good,” Tim said weakly. “What did you find out?”

Jason didn’t answer. “Jay?” He tried again. Jason stopped digging through the bathroom cabinet to look at him. “Are you seriously gonna do this?” 

“Do what?”

"This.” Jason gestured at Tim with both arms. “You know what? This can wait. We need to get you taken care of before you keel over.” Jason turned back to the cabinet for a moment before grabbing an armful of medical supplies. He dumped them beside Tim. “Tell me where you’re injured. I know about the shoulder, obviously, but where else?” 

He contemplated not answering him, but knew that would just cause more issues down the road. He was starting to get frustrated at Jason, but he knew the sooner this was over, the sooner Jason would leave. “My ribs. I don’t know the extent of the damage, but one of them got me with a baseball bat. Left side.”

Jason winced in sympathy. “Alright, I’ll need to examine your side. Can you get the top part of your suit off, or do you need my help?”

He resisted the urge to sigh. “I won’t be able to lift my right arm on my own. Can you help me?”

The following 10 or so minutes were awkward but not as bad as Tim had been expecting. Jason moved with a clinical, professional attitude. He kept his touch light and only did what he needed. He examined his side and let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that fucker got a decent blow in. You’re definitely gonna bruise, but it doesn’t look like it’s broken. Ribs are hard to tell, though. If you were anyone else I’d be telling you to get an x-ray. I’m assuming that’s a no?” He waited for a response. 

He nodded. He knew the signs, knew what to look for. “I’ll be fine. If it gets bad enough, then I’ll stop by the clinic.”

”You better, or if I find out you’ve decided to be an idiot again and ignore it I will drag your ass kicking and screaming.”

Tim let out a small groan. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it. You don’t have to be so much like a mother hen about it.”

Jason laughed, but there was no humor in his voice when he said, “I really think I do at this point.”

Silence again. Jason began to focus his attention on the wound in his shoulder. He was careful when examining it. “Sorry about this, I’m gonna need to clean this, and this is gonna hurt like a bitch. You got lucky, if he had caught you a little bit more to the right, we’d have a hell of a lot more to worry about.”

“Well, thank God for small miracles then,” Tim deadpanned. 

Jason wasn’t lying. As he rinsed the wound, the injured vigilante held back a wince. After a few more minutes, he was busy bandaging him up. 

“You know the drill; keep it dry and clean. We’ll have to change it at least once a day.” Tim didn’t miss the fact that Jason specifically said we. Like he was planning on being a part of Tim’s day-to-day life for the foreseeable future. He felt dread settle in the pit of his stomach at the thought of that.

”Yeah, well. Thanks, I guess.” Tim made the move to stand up and was shocked to see that Jason had once again offered his arm to him for support. He brushed him off and slowly made his way to the couch in the living room. He practically collapsed on it, only managing not to do so out of fear of jostling his shoulder. 

He closed his eyes. He couldn’t wait to take another nap. 

A moment passed. Then another. He cracked his eyes open. Jason was still standing a few feet away from him and seemed intent on staring at him. 

“You know you can go. You don’t have to babysit me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

Jason cocked his head, then shook it slowly. “Nah. I think I do. We need to actually talk now that you aren’t in danger of bleeding out.”

Tim barely restrained himself from letting out a growl of frustration. “You’re being over-dramatic. I was not in danger of-“

”You really wanna try lying to me again?” Jason cut him off. “I wasn’t kidding. If that idiot had gotten a little bit deeper, just a little bit further to the right, we wouldn’t be having this fucking conversation. You get that, right?”

He felt his irritation bubble over. “What exactly do you want me to say? Thank you? I could have handled this myself!”

Jason laughed, hard and cruel. “So you wanna be like this, huh? Alright. You think you were so fine tonight? We must have gone through two different versions of tonight. I’ll share mine.”

He stepped closer to Tim, not quite towering over him but close enough that a flicker of fear pulsed through him for the first time tonight.

”I’ll tell you what I saw. I saw one of the only people I actually trust in this goddamn world give up. I saw you just about let a two-bit goon put a bullet between your eyes and you just stood there. If I wasn’t there or if I had gotten there a moment later, then I wouldn’t have been able to save you.”

His words were cold and hard, denoting a finality and level of truth that Tim was sure that even Bruce wouldn’t dare to argue with. 

“And even now, you’re acting like it’s all a big joke ,” he spat the last word out like it was venom. “I don’t think you’ve quite comprehended just what happened tonight, so I’ll repeat it: If I wasn’t there to save ya, then you would probably be dead.”

“Nobody asked you to save me. Don’t you fucking try to guilt trip me for this,” Tim hissed out, not really thinking about the implication of his words until they were fully spoken. 

“Yeah, right. Did you want me to let you die?”

A moment passed without an answer. The answer was no, right? But as Tim briefly thought back to the scene at the plant. He had tried to fight back, that was true. But he knew towards the end, he was just so tired. 

No, not tired. That wasn’t the right word. This was an exhaustion that had run bone deep. A type of exhaustion that felt like once you laid down, you might never wake back up from. Something he had been fighting back for months, maybe even years at this point. 

He tried to push that realization down, quickly recognizing that such thinking was treading towards dangerous territory. He could already see Jason’s reaction if he were to admit such a thing. He could definitely see how Bruce would react. He’d either completely ignore it or, worse, overreact. Bench him for the foreseeable future from patrol, keep him on the sidelines until he was “better” which would probably never happen. 

But how long could he go on like this? 

Before he realized what was happening, he felt his face grow wet with tears that had begun to trail down his cheeks. There was no sound, no hiccuping breath or sniffling. Just tears at finally admitting a truth he had been denying for as long as he could remember. 

He didn’t want to but knew that Jason would find out regardless, so he looked up at him, and braced for the older man to scoff or ridicule him. He expected Jason to tell him to toughen up. 

What he did not expect was a comforting hand on his arm. 

There was no reassurance in the form of a speech, no honey-filled words with false promises about how everything was ok. Just the fact that he was there for him at this time. 

Tim grabbed at Jason’s arm like a lifeline, all sense of composure completely breaking. The tears that had been nearly silent transformed into full-on sobbing. He struggled to breathe and had to force himself to take deep breaths. 

At some point during this mental breakdown, Jason had managed to reposition himself so he was sitting on the couch with Tim. He was still clinging to Jason, not fully accepting that Jason wouldn’t leave, because why wouldn’t he? He didn’t need to deal with this, and Tim asked him as such once he had finally managed to calm down enough that he could breathe somewhat normally. 

Jason didn’t respond for a moment, which sent another spike of fear through him. 

“Kid, the fact you even have to ask that proves that I need to be here, no matter what. Now, I know you don’t like me, but I don’t want you to be on your own right now. If you really want me gone, I’ll go, but not before we get someone else here.”

Before Tim realized it, he was shaking his head. “No, this is fine.”

So that was that. They settled into comfortable silence before Jason started talking about a recent run-in he had with Harley and Ivy. Tim didn’t really pay attention to the story, just the rhythm and cadence of his voice. He was still holding onto Jason, never letting his older brother go as he drifted into an easy sleep for the first time he could remember. 

At least, that was what he would have wanted to have happened. He was so sore that he eventually had to move. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in that position. He ended up drifting off, but it wasn’t nearly as rejuvenating as he would have wished. 

After some time, he begrudgingly gave up. He pulled himself away from Jason slowly and still felt a shock of surprise when he felt his older brother instinctively tighten his arms for a split-second before acquiescing. 

There was still a question that Tim really didn’t want to hear the answer to, but he knew that if he didn’t ask, then the worst case scenario would spring to mind. 

“So, I gotta ask, what’s changed? This is a pretty far cry from the last time I was bleeding out in front of you.”  

Even as he said it, he couldn’t help but imagine that night, his desperation as he attempted to flee from him, the way his broken body had felt as he had been beaten nearly to a pulp. The Tower had never truly felt safe after that. 

Tim didn’t know what he was expecting, but what followed next wasn’t that. Jason let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Listen, kid, I don’t really have an excuse. I could sit here and blame the Lazurus pit or Talia giving me false info. But what happened was a mistake. One I don’t intend to repeat.”

Jason looked Tim dead in the eyes, making sure the next words were cemented in his mind. 

“Look. I stopped wanting you dead a long time ago. Not even sure if I ever really wanted that anyways.” Jason looked away from him, seemingly embarrassed at what he had said.

Tim wanted to laugh at the sudden admission but managed to hold himself back. 

“Well, don’t make a habit of trying again and I won’t have an issue.”

That was enough to break the tense atmosphere that had settled around them. Jason let out a low chuckle and Tim joined in. 

The two of them settled into an easy silence. But that came to an end far too soon for Tim’s comfort. Jason stood up, stretched, and began to make his way towards the kitchen. 

“I dunno about you, small fry, but I’m starving. Hope you don’t mind if I scrounge up something to eat for the both of us. Throw something on the TV while I do that.”

Tim began to protest but was quickly shut down. 

“Listen, I’ve seen how much you eat, or more accurately how much you don’t . You ain’t winning this fight either.”

Jason didn’t let him get another word in before he slipped into the kitchen. Tim contemplated following him but decided to leave him be. 

He grabbed the remote and flicked the TV on, barely scrolling before he settled on some boring documentary about penguins. Before long, the smell of something sweet began to emanate from the kitchen. Without thinking, he stood up and made his way towards it, only slightly slowed down by the pain in his side. 

Jason stood at the stovetop, pouring pancake batter into a pan Tim didn’t even realize he owned. 

It took him a moment to reconcile the image that was laid before him and what he knew about Jason. Honestly, if a few weeks ago someone had told him that Jason would be here right now and was making breakfast, Tim would have politely smiled and given them directions to the nearest hospital as he would have thought for sure that person had suffered a traumatic brain injury.

Tim hopped up onto one of the rarely used stools that sat at the breakfast bar that was tucked into the corner of the room. He didn’t speak, afraid that any interruption would shatter the gossamer-thin layer of peace that had settled over the two of them.

Jason had no such qualms and promptly began to fill the silence with a stream of dialogue. He didn’t seem to care that Tim didn’t have much of an opinion to offer, but that suited the both of them just fine.

Before long, Jason had amassed a mountain of pancakes and began to split the breakfast between the two of them.

”I would have made a proper breakfast, but your cupboard is pretty much empty. When’s the last time you went grocery shopping? I almost had to clear out what you had left.”

Tim felt his face redden in embarrassment but refused to comment. 

“Thanks, Jay. This is more than you needed to do.” With that, Jason rubbed the back of his neck and replied, “It was nothing; it was the least I could do after tonight. I know how it feels to be on your own, trying to recover from injuries. Food doesn’t help everything, but it sure beats going hungry while being in pain.”

Tim couldn’t find it in him to argue and actually felt a little bit touched at his words. 

With that, the two dug into their plates. There wasn’t much talking, but there didn’t need to be. 

Tim wasn’t delusional. He knew that a breakfast and an impromptu mental breakdown wouldn’t be enough to repair any damage that had been done to their relationship in the past. Nor was he under any impression that he was ok or anywhere in the realm of being “fine.” 

But for the moment, that reality could wait. As they moved their food to the living room and settled down to watch some bad TV, Tim felt a glimmer of hope in his future. 

Things weren’t ok, not really. But things weren’t a complete disaster either. Whatever that had been done could be fixed, even if it took some time, love, and a lot more therapy than Tim was willing to admit. 

Tim could see a path moving forward that was no longer completely obscured in the darkness of his life. He knew he didn’t need to do this alone. And that felt pretty damn good to him for now.