Chapter Text
It was a Tuesday when Tim was scoping out his targets from the top of the roof he was standing on.
He was on a relatively easy mission, just putting a stop to a group of thugs who decided to try and smuggle a stronger variety of opium into Gotham. Not on his watch. He was alone on this mission because Bruce was busy, with stuff regarding the justice league and whatnot.
Tim swore under his breath as he saw a large truck pull into the parking lot of the garage, probably to export the drugs, he guessed. The drivers of the truck were an hour early, which they shouldn't be…unless they knew they were being watched.
Tim sprung quickly into action, shooting his grappling hook and gracefully as well as silently landed onto the pavement below the roof he was previously on. He stalked through the shadows that the streets casted and, once the coast was clear, dived into the warehouse. Robin listened to the smugglers hushed conversations. Something about “hurrying” and "they're onto us!”
Robin quickly engaged into a fight with the surrounding thugs who were guarding the inside of the warehouse. Kicking and punching, working his way through each of them one by one.They were quite low level by Gotham standards, but Tim knew he should never underestimate an opponent. After double checking that each and every one of them was securely zip-tied, Tim sighed in exhaustion. Robin was unnoticing of the fact that the remaining thugs who were driving the truck were still alive and conscious, and also approaching him.
Tim turned hurriedly around and launched a kick at his attackers, probably striving for vengeance for their friends who he just knocked unconscious. But this kick of self defense wasn't anywhere near early enough to prevent the jagged knife that was just lodged into his side, which was pried out just as quick as it came in. Tim heaved in pain. Panicking, he dealt with the surprise attack thugs and dialed the Gotham Police Department. He was aware of his shaking and blurry vision, and cursed his life for being shit, and then proceeded to curse himself for not being good enough as a vigilante to prevent the knife wound.
Curse yourself later, he thought, get to safety first.
So, with the adrenaline coursing through his blood stream, he blindly shot his grappling hook upwards at some roof, and clasped his right side, which was bleeding heavily through his robin suit if you really wanted to know.
Stumbling, he regained his balance on the near edge of the top of the building. He didn’t really feel like dying right now, thank you very much.
It was this Tuesday when Tim was limping across one of the many rooftops Gotham had, it was also this Tuesday when he saw him.
The first time he encountered Red Hood was not,well, the nicest moment of his life to say the least,(he was beaten halfway to death but Tim doesn't want to think about that right now) He was grateful that their relationship was slightly better now, no attempts on his life anymore - yes it was the bare minimum, he knew that but the bar was low (6 foot under approximately, someone could relate to that..)
Speaking of, Red Hood was the last person he wanted to see. Especially now since he incapacitated by the relatively large knife sticking out of his abdomen that he somehow got a few minutes ago.Tim thought of himself as capable, capable enough to take care of himself and the knife wound, so he hoped that Jason would just leave him the fuck alone and mind his own business.He was debating whether he should dramatically launch himself off the rooftop (so much for not wanting to die just yet) or just try his best to run away because he is a big fucking coward,when Jason decides to rudely disrupt his train of thought.
"What the genuine fuck happened to you-"
That was when his words stopped processing in Tim's fading consciousness. He knew he wasn't in as much danger near Hood as he would've been almost a year ago, but this knowledge didn't stop his anxiety from skyrocketing out of the window. Hood's voice alone was giving him goosebumps. He was aware that Jason was still yapping about God knows what so he tried his best to tune in to what he was saying.
"Robin!” Jason yelled. ”Are you even listening? Did that knife really fuck up your mind that much?"
Tim chose that amazing moment to gracefully pass out.
.
.
.
.
Jason was so fucking done with his undead life.
Having to take care of Robin ,out of all people, was not on his bucket list for the year. He brought Tim to one of his closest safehouses, because there was no way in hell that he was going to go to the cave (for reasons that should be obvious.) although they had better medical equipment and Alfred was definitely more experienced in treating wounds than him. Yes he was a coward,he admitted, but being a coward was better than any other option he had right now - not really he just likes to be dramatic. He hastily goes to his bathroom and gets his first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink.
He tries his absolute fucking best to fix Tim's gaping wound, which, he reminds himself, would have to interrogate Tim on later. Jason curses under his breath whilst bandaging it, because why did he have to be the one to encounter Tim out of all people. Of course, he was aware of the relationship he has with the current robin, which was not great to say the least (again for obvious reasons) so it was surprising that he was actually helping him- but Red Hood was not the type of person who was going to leave an injured child to bleed out, even if it was a smartass who goes by the name of Timothy Jackson Drake, Hood does not discriminate. Maybe Jason could muster up the courage to apologise for what he did at The Titans Tower, he should really grow some balls and just get it over with. Tim would forgive him, wouldn't he? From what he knew, the kid was incapable of keeping a grudge. But then again, Jason wouldn't blame Tim if he didn't choose to accept his apology.Just as he wouldn't choose to accept Bruce's. Hm.. maybe he and Tim were similar on some level.
Speaking of,He was also aware that he would have to call Bruce about having Robin incapacitated at his safehouse and in his possession but Tim could do that himself when he actually regained consciousness. Lifting Tim onto the sofa without further hurting him was a difficulty that he did in fact accomplish. Jason was about a millimetre away from passing out as well, aftereffects of patrol and whatnot so he makes the smart decision of going to bed because Tim was passed out like a dead man (Jason would know) and wasn't due to wake up anytime soon. He just hoped that Tim didn't decide to do anything stupid if he did in fact, awake from his slumber.