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Tim is fine.
Very fine.
….
Very fine-ish.
He twitches closer to the heat pack clutched to his chest, wincing when the movement snaps a few tendrils of cold. Not real tendrils of cold, all fake. He opens one arm to hike up his heating blanket and tries to close his eyes for the nth time, knowing he won’t be able to sleep.
He tries to distract his mind from the oppressive cold by thinking about the very person that got him into this mess. Ivy. He glares at his wall, imagining her stupid face and how hard he is going to punch it after he goes back to Gotham.
Ivy had broken out and immediately doused half the city in pollen. Hoards of people piled in the streets- desperately clawing each other closer to avoid freezing pain. Freezing pain that Tim has to ride out as he can’t really be seen in the middle of a suffocating mob like that, it’s an identity risk, and the hordes themselves are safety risks.
Of course there is always Batman. Of course. But he has made it a point to not bother him with that stuff. He had once, the man had been so stiff and awkward that Tim wished he had kept his mouth shut. So after that it became a point for Tim to keep to himself, rarely a problem while he has his rebreather- it becomes a problem when someone nicks his rebreather from his belt before he faces off with Ivy.
Whatever. After patrol he was banished to Titans tower anyways- punishment for flying solo during this whole Red Hood business- so he heated up everything he could find that could be heated up and curled in his bed to ride out the effects for the next few hours- until it works its way through his system and he can move on to hunting down Red Hood and going back to Gotham.
Just-
When he can actually think straight again.
The dimmed lamp on his bedside snaps off and Tim doesn’t think much of it, not really. He just forces an arm out from his blanket cocoon and fumbles around the power socket. When it still doesn’t turn on he presses the on and off button a few hundred times then he rolls over, mildly annoyed.
Boots stomp past his door and Tim blinks his eyes open, squinting into the dark. He debates the merits of checking or if he should just trust the others in the tower to deal with it.
…Tim reluctantly sits up and wraps a few blankets around his shoulders, shivering idly when the heating blanket slides off him. He grabs up his Bo to lean against as he walks.
He stumbles like a drunk man down the dark hall, trying every light on the way. Tim comes to a stop when he finds himself face to face with Red Hood.
“Wh- What uh- brings you to San Francisco?" Tim asks, feigning casual. Red hood gives a very unamused up and down back, “You caught me at a bad time.” Tim frowns, ignoring the way his teeth chatter against a non-existent cold, hard to do when his teeth are chattering so intensely he is biting his tongue.
“This is the new Robin?” Red Hood says, leaning on his back foot.
“It’s like- It’s late man. I was sleeping.” Tim tries to defend.
“You look like an old wizard coming out of the woods to offer me mushrooms or some shit.” Hood comments, amusement tainting his voice, “Although I did come here to size you up. The big bad bat has done well in keeping you under lock and key. Always watched. Always protected.” He sneers. Tim’s frown sharpens. “But I won in the end. So, tell me Robin. Why are you so special? What makes you so much better than the last?” Red Hood stalks forward, bloodlust coming off him in waves. Tim shifts onto his back foot, one hand taking a much sturdier grip on his bo, the other keeps hold of one side of the blankets.
“Well. For starters I didn’t die. I think that’s pretty significant.” He slides his feet to shuffle back and away from the active threat, he knows he can’t win in a fight against Hood, the man has league training, bat training and street experience. Oh and Tim has been severely crippled by Ivy’s pollen. So, logically Tim shouldn’t be mouthing off. But then again… He is also just answering a question. “And I also never tried to seek out and threaten a teenager. That also seems like an important thing.” He adds, watching closely as Red Hood stalks forward, hand finding his gun easily.
“I’m giving you three seconds to run.”
“Sounds about right.” Tim nods once before using all his might to throw the blankets at Hood’s face, then he stumbles down the hall, using his hands to propel him forward every time his legs give out. Each step feels like ramming into a glacier, he distantly registers the occasional groans of pain he is making as he makes his way to the communications room.
A shot connects with his leg and it doesn’t even really thaw the cold, just adds pain to the already mounting agony grabbing his muscles and squeezing, locking them all up and making running away awfully hard.
He gets half way there before he trips and his left arm locks up, causing him to slam face first into the ground. The blood riveting from his nose freezes over his skin and lips and teeth when he hauls in a breath into burning lungs.
“I was hoping for… Something you know? You disappoint me.” Hood sighs, “At least I fought. I didn’t stumble aimlessly. I had so many more injuries than you. And I still managed to crawl.” Hood nudges him lightly with his boots and Tim whimpers. “Go on. Crawl.” Tim screws his eyes shut for a few seconds, fights the urge to crawl to Hood and wrap around his ankle like a snake.
“What is this? A frat? Why am I doing this humiliation ritual?” He grits out, tears welling in his eyes as ice cold picks hammer into every part of his being.
“Crawl.” Is the response he gets. And- as humiliating as it is- he does. He army crawls across the ground, heart hammering and tears freezing in his sinuses, an iron vice grips his chest and he really does feel thoroughly humiliated, “Awh. Even I did better than this.” Tim watches Hood grab his bo and he tracks Hood's shadow as it winds around in front of him looming over his shaking figure. “Then again I was heavily injured. Maybe a few hits will get the adrenaline pumping.” That's all the warning he gets before a boot crunches over his hand and Hood steps over his torso to rain down real, physical, pain on him through his bo. Not even with his fists- Tim’s bo. Tim moves to protect his head while he tries to think of a way out.
All half hatched plans fly out the window when Hood drops down to straddle his torso and begin punching his face. All Tim can feel are hands- and a body over his diaphragm and the cold thawing ever so slightly. His hands flail on their own- grabbing and pulling, the logical part of his brain tries to throw some hits back but he just can’t, the instinctual need to claw towards the only thing warming his hypothermic soul. His skin breaks under Hood’s fist, wounds opening and welcoming the violence.
Hood pushes off his chest and Tim coughs around the lack of air, and the broken nose and the bleeding tongue and the broken ribs. He blinks to see Hood pull out a knife. His eyes well with tears while his entire body freezes up, all his muscles locking and cramping and freezing all at once. The pain so profound his vision blacks out and he blindly sobs and screams, reaching towards the person. Like drinking hot cocoa on a cold night even after it burns and burns and burns. Tim needs to feel warm, he needs to feel burnt, he needs to feel anything that isn't cold.
Tim screeches something ungodly when the amalgamation of injuries and cold clamp over him as he reaches out blindly. He finds his target, warmth, a body, he claws it closer with animalistic desperation.
Hands, gentle. Is what he registers next. Tim tries to merge them, to make himself warm. He sobs loud, very little care for the drool and snot wetting his face and the leather he has shoved his face into. He welcomes the heat as it blowtorches through his frozen limbs and organs, the heat brings its own unique pain, ruthlessly burning away the ice that had chipped into Tim’s bones and settled there, but Tim would take the pain of all his muscles being forcibly pulled out over the slow, excruciating, lonely pain of being alone.
“Okay. What the fuck man.” Hood mutters, lifting Tim off the ground and walking away. Tim muffles another sob into the leather jacket. “Yeah, yeah.” The voice hums.
He registers getting lowered onto a bed and the arms moving. Sharp fear stabs upward through his chest. He writhes and reaches, blinking up at the clinical lights he recognises as the med bay. Hood pops into his vision, one arm still bracketed behind his shoulders, leaving the anti-hero at an awkward angle.
“What is your problem?” Hood groans, shifting Tim across the bed and sliding next to him. Tim goes pliant, happy enough to just let the world pass him by… Which proves to be a problem when Hood flicks his forehead, “Oi. I asked a question.
“Sh. ‘m tired.” Tim turns to bury his head in Hood’s chest. Hood grabs his face and forces them to make eye contact.
“Do you have a concussion? Seriously, you have to tell me if you do.” Tim shakes his head, “Then what is your problem? Why are you so-” He trails off. Tim hums.
“Lack of parental supervision I think. Dangerous level of trust towards strangers? Something about dressing up in spandex every night and fighting people maybe. I don’t know. I have many problems, you’re gonna have to be more specific.” He drops his head and closes his eyes.
“I meant. Why are you clinging to someone who just beat you up.” Hood clarifies with a sigh.
“Ugh.” Tim groans in response, shifting around his injured hand and ribs and everything else which is making themselves known now the cold isn’t as prevalent.
“Yeah. I know. You’re hurt… You know I can fix that. And if I could move I would.” Hood offers and the thought of being left for the ice again hammers in his chest and he wraps his (probably very broken) hand in Hood’s jacket, crying out when pain shoots up his arm. Red Hood's hand gently wraps over his own- stilling it. “...Ivy. It was Ivy wasn’t it? You fought her.” Tim nods. “Huh. Here I thought you were benched. At least from solo flights. The bat must really not give a shit.”
“I was. Am. I am. But Ivy was on a rampage. And I knew where she was going to be.” Tim explains while Hood leans half off the bed and Tim hears wheels squeak nearby.
“That tracks. Can’t even keep track of his Robins. Leaving them to fend for themselves while being actively hunted.” He mutters as he fumbles through different medical apparitions.
“If it helps I didn’t tell him I was pollened.” Tim adds in a meek voice.
“You shouldn’t’ve had to tell him, for one. For two, he knows who I am. He knows I have been actively hunting you down, yet my codes still fucking work. And for three, you should have never been able to leave if you were on lockdown.” Eventually Hood finds what he is looking for and turns to Tim, moving to separate them and Tim screams, arms throwing themselves back to Hood. “I can’t help you if I can’t even see your injuries.” Hood mutters once he glues Tim back to his chest.
“Don’t care.” Tim pouts.
“Well I d-” Hood trails off after that, leaving them in silence for close to a minute before speaking again. “Okay. You’re going on my back.” He says before moving, shifting around and making sure he is always in contact with Tim as he moves the younger to his back. He sits on the edge of the bed and wraps a bandage around Tim’s gun shot wound on his leg. Then he leaves the room, Tim doesn’t care much as to where they go.
“So- Uh- Get pollened much?” Hood speaks, stilted and awkward.
“Mhm.”
“So why not just go- To the manor?” Tim nearly laughs at Red Hood’s question.
“B doesn’t- he wouldn’t want to have me cling to him for a few hours. I’m not his kid.” He answers.
“Okay. And what about your parents then?” Tim actually does laugh at that.
“Yeah. Right.” He scoffs.
“Okay. So you just- ride it out alone then? Every time.”
“Mhm. It’s not that bad if you have enough heat packs. And a hot bath is always nice.” Tim hums, blinking slowly, exhaustion from everything that had happened trying to pull him into sleep. “It normally only lasts about 10 hours but after hour 5 it’s barely noticeable.” Tim waves off.
“I tried riding out pollen once.” Hood shares. “I got to hour three before-uh- before I was checked on and he saw me curled up in my bed biting my pillow. I- I couldn’t leave his room for the next three days.” If Tim was any more deluded by exhaustion he could convince himself Hood- no, Jason- was smiling at the memory. “I hadn’t wanted to either. I was very cold and he was- warm… After that I would tell someone. Although normally I would tell-” He speaks idly, his voice a constant stream of something that distracts him from the pain, a small crackle gets his attention. “Hey Dickwing.”
“Hood? Where are you? Where is Tim?” Tim shakes his head.
“Here. The tower. You wouldn’t believe it. Some guy just came in here and beat him up. I uh- I found him like this.”
“If there is so much as a scratch on him I swear-” Hood turns off Tim’s communicator.
“Would he count all this as a scratch? Whaddya think?” Hood comments, Tim huffs a laugh.
“Nah. You’re good.” He tries to shrug but winces when it pulls on whatever myriad of injuries he has ascertained. “As long as I don’t have to move I’m fine.” he continues, “But a story would distract me. You said you would tell N when you got pollened.”
“Yeah it uh- it drove the- it drove him mad.” Hood huffs a laugh, “But I don’t know. I trusted N more, at the time anyway. What about you? You never go to him?”
“No. I uhh- don’t want to be a bother. And after- well everything that happened with you N was barely over. Him and B fought all the time. Nearly fist fought each other a few times, threw things, yelled… The whole shebang. So N wasn’t really over and I never had the guts to go to bludhaven. Got on the bus to go once, lasted two stops before I got off and went back.” The exhaustion makes him much more open to sharing his thoughts. “You know I never replaced you.”
“You aren’t ready to be Robin.” Hood answers ominously. “I want to show you Robin isn’t all heroics and glamour. It’s pain and grit and it’s not fair or just.”
“I know that. I just want to help.”
“It’s not your job to help.”
“I chose to be Robin. I chose to help. I knew what it entailed and I chose it anyway. This- What you’ve done isn’t the worst I’ve experienced and I will experience much worse… But I want to help. I do. Even if I’m not Robin I will just don a new identity and continue what I’m doing. Batman, A, Nightwing, and Oracle are my safety net. They make sure that my falls aren’t fatal. They hold me accountable… They learnt a lot from losing you.” Tim buries his head into Hood’s jacket as he walks around the tower doing God knows what. His hands tighten around Tim.
“They shouldn’t- None of this should have happened in the first place.” Hood mutters.
“I agree. You know- I could be just laying in my room right now. But no.” Tim hums.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You think this should have happened then?”
“Honestly? If it makes you more cautious then yes.” Hood growls, “I said I wanted you off the streets and that idiot couldn’t even get rid of my codes.”
“He didn’t think you would go this far just to punch me… I didn’t think so either. I kinda figured you had a life or something better to do then beat up a teenager.” Tim shrugs.
“Well that’s where you're mistaken.” Hood huffs, shifting Tim to his front and sitting back on a medcot, Tim squints at the cart of first aid Hood had packed and pulled up.
“...B didn’t have the heart to get rid of your codes.” Tim shares quietly, Hood unlatches his helmet and lays his head over Tim’s.
“What an idiot. World's greatest detective my ass.”
“He never got rid of anything that you had, I- uh- I was never allowed in your old room. All your old suits are folded in the cave. Your books are still in the library I- I can tell which ones were yours ‘cus they still have the bookmarks in them. He never could get rid of anything you had. Even your codes.”
“...Sentimental fuck.” Jason mutters after a few seconds, leaving back to silence. Tim leans back into Jason, closing his eyes as Jason wraps his arms loosely around Tim.
…
“Look alive.” Jason taps his bicep and Tim blinks grogily, he hadn’t even been able to fully embrace sleep and Jason is forcing him awake again.
“I thought you were done torturing me.” Tim whines. Jason laughs lightly.
“I am… For now. But we aren’t alone. Someone just used the zeta tubes.” He explains, placing a tablet on Tim’s lap and reaching over for his discarded helmet. Tim uses his good hand to try and watch through the cameras, frowning when it doesn’t work. “Oh. Yeah. I had to manually restart the generator. It's all still coming back up. And the backup generator doesn’t turn on cameras… To save power and all.”
“Yes. I know that much. I’m not a complete idiot.”
“Just making sure.”
Tim rolls his eyes and flicks off the tablet, gluing his eyes to his lap instead.
“My eye hurts.” He comments.
“Yeah cus it’s bruised. I punched it.” Hood explains as if he is slow.
“Yeah it just didn’t hurt this much before.”
“No shit cus you were dealing with the pollen.” Tim opens his mouth to respond when the door flings open.
“Get away from him!” Nightwing growls, mask half crooked and a bad case of bedhead. Much to Tim’s horror, Hood obliges. Hood pushes Tim off him and further down the bed.
The cold isn’t as much this time but does come on quickly, gripping his whole body in a vice and threatening to not let go. Tim whines- too scared of the cold to let it overtake him again. He leans forward over the bed, reaching back out to Hood. Hood catches him with ease and navigates them back to their previous position- Tim leaning against Hood.
“You want me to try again?”
“No.” Tim immediately answers, “If you do, I will murder you. Bad. You will be dead.” Tim threatens.
“You heard the kid. Look- I even got the cart and everything. Go on, play nursemaid.” Hood encourages voice modulator giving away nothing. Nightwing frowns, sitting near Tim.
“What happened?” He asks softly, searching Tim’s face with a mildly pained expression.
“The big bad bat nearly got one of his soldiers killed is what happened.” Hood scoffs, “Now. Are you going to fix him up?” Nightwing nods and pulls the cart close.
“Who was it?”
“Me.” Hood admits easily, “And the kid would have much worse than a broken hand and a gunshot wound if he wasn’t doused in pollen.” Nightwing looks split between horror and confusion. “Which is another thing. He faced off against Ivy. Alone.”
“I didn’t-”
“Know? Yeah. no one did.”
“Ivy hid her tracks well.” Tim adds, “No one was going to find her. I didn’t even really know exactly where she was until I was out on the streets… In civvies.” He adds that last point very quietly as to avoid-
“What the fuck do you mean in civvies?!”
“Did you even have your rebreather?!”
“I did! Someone just took it.” Tim winces when Nightwing dabs his face with antiseptic. “And if I was out as Robin you guys would have known that I was walking the streets… I had my mask in my hoodie pocket so I could- you know. And I had a kevlar vest under my hoodie so I was fine.” He tries to justify.
“How have I never been able to beat you to a pulp before. You clearly have too much freedom.” Hood mutters.
“I agree. Where was B?”
“I told him I was at home. And- when he found out I wasn’t he sent me here.” Tim explains. “But I got her! And I would have been fine.”
“Not if you were pollened. I mean. I don’t even know where you would have ended up if Hood hadn’t arrived. We don’t know what pollen does if it is not treated.” Nightwing scrunches his face at Tim’s hand and works gently.
“Wha- Haven’t we already got it on the computer?”
“No. We don’t. Because no one knows what happens. Anyone who has experienced it hasn’t told anyone- people have died from cuddle pollen before Tim. This is serious stuff.”
“...Ah.”
“Odd because the brat had told me that he normall-”
“AAAHHH” Tim screams as Dick resets his broken fingers. Dick mumbles apologies while wrapping them in splints.
“As I was saying-”
“You weren’t saying anything.” Tim grits, tears rolling down his cheeks, Nightwing leans forward to plant a kiss to Tim's head and run a hand through his sweaty scalp.
“Tim normally-”
“Ahh!”
“He-”
“No!”
“He-”
“Uh-”
Hood covers Tim’s mouth with a gloved hand.
“He told me he normally rides out the effects of pollen on his own.” Tim’s brows furrow in frustration as he bites down uselessly on the glove. Nightwing gapes at Hood, then Tim, then Hood, then back at Tim.
“You- can always come to us Tim.” He looks genuinely at Tim.
“No I- I’m not- I have people.”
“....Do you?” Dick asks softly, pulling off his mask to meet Tim’s shining eyes with his own.
“I don’t- I have people but I don't need them. Pollen is- painful and it feels like you're dying but it’s temporary. Only a few hours.” Tim tries to justify. “And if you don’t trigger it with touch it doesn’t get like- It’s- It’s-” Tim sighs, cringing when he tucks his knees up to his chest.
“Tim. Look at me.” Tim does, “You’re my brother Tim. I don’t want you to ever feel you can’t just- call me. Hell if you just randomly called me and said you wanted a hug at buttfuck o’clock I would drive over to give you one. Because I’m your brother and that’s what I do. I would do so for any of my family. For you, for Alfred, for Jason, for Babs and- reluctantly, for B. Also I love hugs. I will never deny a hug.” Dick smiles slightly, lopsided and faded, but there.
“But I went against orders.”
“So? You could have fucking killed someone for all I care. No matter what, you are still family. I will have your back.” Tim watches Dick’s sight flick up over Tim’s head- just for a second- but it’s enough.
“... No matter what?”
“No matter what.” Dick confirms, finally moving away from intense eye contact to apply cream to Tim’s bruises.
“Even if I had killed more than one person?”
“Even if you were a mass murderer.” Dick confirms.
“Even if I was a prolific crime boss and drug lord?”
“Even if you were a prolific Crime boss and drug lord.” Dick confirms with a laugh, looking a bit longer over Tim’s head.
“Well see. This was all part of my master plan. To get you to back to being brothers.” Tim nods as Dick sticks a bandage over Tim’s wounds.
“No it wasn’t brat.”
“Maybe not.” Tim acquiesces, “but it’s an added bonus so I’ll take it.”
“I’m still going to beat you up by the way.” Hood mutters, “If you can’t fight me off then you shouldn’t be Robin. I just can’t fight you like this. Not when you’re this pathetic.”
“Don’t worry. Next time I will outsmart you.” Tim nods, Dick looks amusedly between them both.
“How about we go back to my place once you’re patched up?” He offers. Tim nods.
“Oh thank God. I gotta go back to Gotham- my flight back would have left already.”
“Wow. you were really planning on kicking my ass.” Tim frowns.
“Yeah. Kinda an in and out sorta job You know?”
“I would have put up a bigger fight than that.” Tim scoffs.
“You didn’t.”
“I would have if I wasn’t pollened thank you very much.”
“I guess we will find out next time. Then, after I beat your ass then you can leave Robin behind.”
“Fine. you beat me I leave Robin. I win, you have to come back to the manor.” Tim reaches his good hand behind his head for Hood to shake.
“Deal.” Hood shakes his hand and Tim grins. “I’m gonna beat your ass.”
“As if.” Tim grins, leaning back against Hood and closing his eyes happily.
“C’mon. Let’s go back to my apartment. I promise it’s comfier than this place.” Dick smiles and Tim hums his agreement.
“Sounds like a plan. Okay. Get off me now.” He moves to push Tim into Dick and Tim responds by groaning loudly and gripping his good hand in Hood’s jacket. He turns to attach to Hood like a limpet and refuses to let go until he also agrees to join them.
They walk quietly to the zeta tubes and back to Dick’s apartment. Dick gets them set up in the guest room and joins their cuddle pile and then Tim finally lets himself drift off to sleep.
—
Tim wakes to an empty bed, but he isn’t cold anymore. He wraps a sheet around his shoulders anyway as he stumbles to the kitchen, intent on some sort of snack.
“Hey Timmy.” Dick greets, “Feeling better?”
“Much.” Tim nods.
“Good. I'm making breakfast. Whaddya want?”
“Uhh- steak. Medium rare.” Tim slides into the stool at the kitchen. “Wagyu steak.”
“Well I have scrambled eggs and bacon.” Dick answers.
“Can you make it look like a face?”
“I can put the bacon on top of the scrambled eggs and use sauce to make eyes?”
“I can settle for that then.” Tim yawns. Dick laughs.
“Of course your highness.” He places the plate in front of Tim and slides into the seat next to him. “Hey, sorry about- you know. The whole situation. I probably should have made it clearer where we sit.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Tim shrugs.
“Maybe not. But I still could have done more.” He sighs, “Just eat up. I’ll deal with my shit on my own.” He bumps their shoulders together. Tim does just that.
“I just wish Jason had stayed so you two could reconcile.” Tim says between bites.
“He had. But I don’t think we reconciled. That’s a very far way away. But it’s a step. We even talked for a bit before he left. He made pancakes for me- or- himself but he didn’t complain when I stole one.” Dick smiles, “Though I appreciate your concern for me and Jay. Even if he is still intent on beating you to a pulp.”
“I’ll beat him.” Tim promises.
“You have me in your corner. And B and Alf and Babs.” Dick reminds, “None of us want you to get hurt.”
“And you all want Jason home.”
“That too. But that’s not a confirmed thing. He could just- not. And your safety is more important than Jay coming home.” Dick speaks softly.
“Don’t worry Dick. I will get Jason home. Even if I lose I will just keep challenging him until I win.” Tim promises.
“The scariest part of that is that I know you will.” Dick ruffles his hair and Tim smiles, “Anyways. Eat up. I have been fighting off B this whole time and I think he might actually explode if he doesn’t see you safe.”
“He isn’t mad?”
“Uhh- Moreso at himself. I told him that if he lectures you or gets upset at you I will punch him and take you back to my place so he will behave.” Dick pulls out his phone and tilts it away from Tim, “Don’t pout at me you snoop.” Dick teases, pulling an amused huff from Tim. “Once you finish that we can head over to the manor?”
“Yeah. We can.” Tim smiles tightly, messing with his food.
“You’ll be fine Timmy. I promise. No one’s mad. And if they are, I will fight them.”
“Even Alfred?”
“Especially Alfred.” Dick grins. Tim rests his head on Dick’s shoulder and Dick wraps an arm around Tim’s shoulders.