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“Absolutely fucking not.”
Tim startled and spilled the mug in his hand all over his shirt and the seat of his sweatpants. “Jason! Look what you–”
And then Jason was in front of him, taking the mug and holding out a towel. Wait, when did he move? “Replacement, I went to bed at 2am last night. It’s almost noon. Why the fuck are you still down here?”
Tim rolled his eyes and went to cross his arms. Unfortunately, he was still soaked in lukewarm coffee, so he settled for propping his fists on his hips. “You’re not my parent. It’s one all nighter. It’s not a big deal.”
“Lies,” Jason snapped. “I know you have done this every day this week. It’s Wednesday, Timbo. Can you count how many days without sleep that is or has the lack of sleep fucked up your ability to count, too?”
Tim opened his mouth to reply and stifled a yawn. This wasn’t helping his case. “I… yeah, it’s been a few days. But I took naps!” His eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. How did you know that? You just got to the mansion yesterday.”
Jason cocked an eyebrow and Tim gasped.
“There’s a snitch! Someone snitched to you. Oh my god, was it Dick? I swear on my life–”
Now it was Jason’s turn to roll his eyes. “Dickface is in Bludhaven.” He meaningfully eyed the Batcomputer.
Oh, no.
Her.
“This is low, Babs,” Tim whispered. “Even for you.”
A green text box popped up on the screen. Go to bed or I’m telling Bruce next.
“I’m not tired.”
Jason held up the empty mug. “How many of these have you had today?”
“… a few.”
“Timbo, if you don’t stop with the cryptic answers, I will tell Alfie.”
Tim paled. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, but I so fucking would and we both know it.”
Tim glanced down at his soaked lap and back up at Jason, his glare weakening with every second as the exhaustion he’d been fighting off for days hit. This always happened. He’d work, and work, and work, and the moment he took his foot off the gas, he’d crash.
There were many times a Wayne family member found him face first on the keyboard of the batcomputer, sleeping so deeply it took multiple tries to wake him.
“C’mon, kiddo. Up. Let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep right there.”
Tim yawned again. “You’re not in charge of me.”
“Uh huh.”
“Seriously.”
“Yep.”
“I don’t have to listen to you.”
“Jesus Christ, get your ass up those stairs before I pick you up and throw you over my shoulder.”
Tim stood and his head immediately went fuzzy. “Oh no–”
But Jason was there, tossing Tim’s arm across his shoulders and helping him walk. “This is what happens when you don’t eat regular meals, don’t sleep, and drink enough coffee to reanimate the dead.”
“I wish my hearing would go instead of my balance so I didn’t have to listen to you.” It took Tim a few tries to finish the thought since he kept getting interrupted by yawns.
“Aw, Replacement, I’m touched.”
Tim’s foot caught on one of the steps and he almost fell flat on his face. Thankfully Jason’s grip on his arm and waist were solid.
“Easy, Timbo. You don’t need a concussion on top of everything else.”
Tim was too exhausted to even reply. Jason’s body was strong and warm at his side. He’d never admit it, but that strength and warmth made him feel safe. At home.
Dick took care of all of them. But Jason– he always took care of Tim. Even though it was always in his gruff, rough and tumble way.
“Jay, why are–” Tim lost his train of thought and had to find it again. The lurch of the elevator threw him off balance, again, and Jason adjusted his hold on Tim’s wrist. “The Manor. Why are you…. The Manor.”
“To make sure that someone goes the fuck to bed.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Babs told me that you were working insane hours and no one else can get you to take a break, apparently.”
Tim sighed. “It’s because you’re the only one rude enough to manhandle me.”
“Oh, you think this is manhandling?”
With a maniacal cackle, Jason swept Tim’s legs out from under him and picked him up bridal style.
The elevator opened and Jason gleefully paraded up the foyer steps with Tim snuggly held in his arms.
“Jason! Put me down!” Tim hissed, uselessly punching and pushing at Jason’s chest. It was futile, but he wouldn’t take this humiliation willingly.
“Say ‘night night’ to Timbo, Damian,” Jason said in a sign song voice when they passed a mildly bemused Damian in the hallway.
He cocked a brow and crossed his arms. “I will not lower myself to saying that, Todd. But go to bed, Drake. You look terrible.”
“Damian! A little help?” Tim squeaked over Jason’s shoulder as they made their way down the hall.
“No,” Damian replied and walked away like the trader he was.
Alfred came out of Tim’s room with a tray of old coffee mugs and gave them both a relieved smile. “Oh, good. Master Jason. I was hoping you would come soon. I think Master Bruce was going to head down there soon to deal with Master Tim but it seems like you got to him first.”
Jason maneuvered so Alfred could walk past them and Tim shot Alfred a pleading look.
“Come on, Alfred– I just needed a few more hours–”
“No, my boy. The only thing you need a few hours of is sleep.” Alfred dipped his head and walked off. “Rest well.”
Tim growled in exasperation. “Fine. Fine. I’ll pay you to let me go. Name your price.”
“That’s low,” Jason replied. “Also, I’m a Wayne now. I don’t need your dirty bribe money.”
They arrived in Tim’s bedroom and Jason put him down.
“Bed. Now.”
Tim glanced down at his three-day old t-shirt and jeans. “I’m not sleeping in this.”
“Funny. Isn’t that thing right there–” Jason’s thumb jutted toward the dresser– “full of clothes?”
“What?” Tim asked. “Are you going to watch? That’s creepy, Jay.”
Jason rolled his eyes and turned around. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen every time you get injured. Which is a lot, by the way. You should work on that. Maybe eat some spinach so you’re no longer snack sized.”
“I hate you.”
“Yeppers,” Jason sighed, kicking at a stray sock. “That’s what you say. Are you dressed for bed yet?”
“Yes, Mom.”
Jason turned around to find Tim wearing an oversized Wonder Woman sweatshirt and a matching pair of sweatpants. While the bags under his eyes neutralized most of the effect, Tim looked smug.
“Those are mine!”
“Really?” Tim looked down and plucked at the fabric innocently. “I found them in my bedroom so…”
“What are we fighting about?” Dick called as he sauntered into the room. “Oh, thank God you’re here, Jay. I thought we were going to have to tranquilize him.” Dick noticed Tim’s clothes. “Aw– he’s even wearing your clothes. You two are adorable!”
“Watch it, Dickface– I am not–”
Tim smiled wanly at Jason, eyes slitted. “So cute.”
“You’ll regret that.”
"Make me, Todd.”
Jason eyed Tim, noting his slouching posture and the hand he’d discreetly latched onto the back of his desk chair. He was struggling to stand upright. “Yeah, you’re in great fighting shape right now, Tim. I’m quaking.”
Dick looked between the two of them, eyebrow cocked and unimpressed. “Why does everything with you two turn into some twisted competition? Jason, stop glaring. Tim… please go to bed. I’m begging you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tim rolled his eyes but his mouth cracked in a yawn. His fist rubbed at one eye. “I’m going.”
With one last scathing look at Jason, Tim flopped down on top of the covers and proceeded to fall asleep on contact.
“There!” Dick exclaimed, clapping Jason on the shoulder. “Thank you. I thought about roofie-ing some decaf coffee next time he wandered into the kitchen but that felt morally… ambiguous.”
Jason shrugged. “Happy to serve on the putting-Tim-to-bed committee.”
Dick grinned. “Appreciate your service, soldier.”
Bruce came down the hall right as Dick was closing Tim’s door behind them.
Jason gave him a thumbs up. “Mission completed.”
“Thank God.” Bruce sighed. “I’ll wake him up for dinner. Who wants lunch? Alfred made shawarma.”
Damian showed up out of nowhere, Alfred the cat in his arms. “I call Drake’s portion.”
“Sure, Dami,” Dick said, ruffling Damian’s hair before he could scowl and scurry away. He tried to do the same to Jason, but he ducked away right in time. “I’m starving.”
“Keep it up, Dick,” Jason mumbled. “If you touch me again, I’m going to put you to bed.”
Dick’s grin was wicked. “Only if you promise to be the big spoon until I fall asleep.”
Jason made an indignant squawk of protest and Damian giggled before he could clap his hands over his mouth. Damian’s giggle triggered Dick, and soon, even Bruce was fighting back a laugh.
Alfred came up and ushered them all downstairs before their antics woke Tim.