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Tim was maybe, slightly, somewhat screwed.
He wasn't supposed to go out tonight. He absolutely, on clear orders, was not supposed to go out tonight.
In all fairness, he justified to himself, Dick Grayson of all people should have known you can't keep a Robin in a cage for long. Especially when you say anything that translates to "stay in that cage, Robin", which was totally goading and 100% justified Tim escaping.
So, he knew it was Dick's fault (truly), and not his at all (if you really think about it), and that made all of his actions okay.
The problem was that he had been caught flying from the nest and was now flitting all over Gotham trying to evade capture.
O was a no-go, he hadn't been on speaking terms with Anarky in a while, and Tam was away on vacation with Luke, which left only one feasible option he could run to who wouldn't turn him in to the nearest Bat for collection after hearing his, quite honestly, really unreasonable story as to why he had run off into the night.
Tim rapped on her window, smiling and hoping his face looked casual enough to cast of any suspicions as to why he was actually attempting to seeks sanctuary at her apartment on a Saturday night.
It seemed to work well enough, as Helena Bertinelli calmly strode over and slid the glass open. Tim slipped inside clutching his cape in his left hand, before bounding over to the fruit table that sat on the living room table.
"Hi Helena!" he said through a mouthful of ripe pear, "I was just around on patrol—pretty light day—so I thought I'd stop by and see if you needed any help on a ca-"
"Why are you really here?" Helena interrupted, catching him immediately and raising an eyebrow at him before moving back over to the table, shuffling through newspaper clippings Tim could now see were about some new mob hit. "Also, wipe your mouth." she said, gesturing to a rumpled napkin beside him.
Tim wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before opening it to plead his case.
"Well, you see, uh-" Tim stuttered, fidgeting with the edge of his cape as he desperately tried to look anywhere else in the room.
Thankfully, he didn't have to endure for long, as fate intervened and a knock sounded from the door. Not-so-thankfully, Tim remembered that being Robin had somehow given him permanent bad luck, and there was probably only one person who could be at the door at this hour.
Tim darted behind the door as Helena looked at the peephole, narrowing her eyes as she saw who stood on the other side.
Helena opened the door a crack, leaning her body in between the space that remained, effectively blocking the way into her apartment.
Dick Grayson stood on the other side in full Nightwing regalia, smiling a bit too much for the knitted position his eyebrows were in. It was clear he had tried to make his hair more "Charming Wayne" than "Frantic brother who may-or-may-not have accidentaly lost their charge" before knocking, but in a rush he had done nothing more than manage to leave every cowlick sticking up.
"What. Do you want." Helena asked through gritted teeth.
"Heyyyyy Helena…is Robin here? Or anywhere. Near here? Around?" He started, awkwardly shuffling in place.
Helena could see Tim frantically shaking his head out of the corner of her eye.
"No." she said curtly, turning away to close the door on him.
"Wait!" Dick stuck his foot in the opening before she could shut him out. "Please," he pleaded, "He's out on his own, and I'm just really, really worried. Some of the rogues have talked about specifically targeting Robin, and we tried to keep him safe but he's just. not. Listening!"
Helena gave a considerate hum before opening the door a bit further, looking as if she was touched by his words and about to let him in.
Dick's relief lasted all of two seconds before she swung the door back with as much force as she could muster up, slamming it directly into the foot he had left in the doorway.
Dick yelped and clutched his foot, hissing through his teeth as he hopped around on one leg. "Fine! Fine! I'll go, Jesus!"
"Leave! And reinforce your uniform boots with a steel toe, idiot!"
Satisfied with this interaction, Helena smirked to herself and fully closed the door.
She turned and looked to Tim, who had slumped his shoulders with visible relief.
"Thanks. I probably owe you one."
"Consider the chance to get one in on Nightwing your payment." Helena said with a smile. "But seriously, what ever it is that you two are really fighting about, like the real, big issue, you should probably sort that out quick before daddybats gets involved."
Tim wrinkled his nose at the nickname for Bruce before his face fell into an expression much more sheepish. "I know, I know…" he trailed off for a second.
His face suddenly brightened as he looked up at her with renewed vigor. "But I really can help you out with that case! The one on your table, I mean. I've got some addresses."
Helena sighed, bringing her thumb and middle finger up to her face to rub at her temples.
"Of course you do."