Chapter Text
It was cold out.
It was disgustingly cold out actually.
Which was normal because it was snowing. Hell it was February and night out in Jersey, it was probably freezing. Tim checked his gauntlet screen, it was freezing, actually, 22°F. Tim was absolutely getting a full face cover for his winter suit soon, not being able to feel his nose was getting ridiculous.
Oracle came over coms, “Red Robin, there’s a gunpoint robbery on the bank, corner of West and Third. No powers.”
Tim reached for his coms, as he started heading over, “God it, headed there now, I’m about a block away.”
“Good.” Oracle sounded relatively unworried so hopefully this would be easy. “No hostages, he’s running down main.”
Tim could see him sprinting sloppily towards an alleyway, a rookie, this would be easy then.
He shot his grapple to the building across from him and jumped. He swung down, all his momentum landing square on the guys shoulder and knocking him into the snow, sending the gun skidding over sleet to the wall. The ass tried to get up and run, Red Robin tripped him and grabbed the gun and money bag. “Don’t run.” He held the bowstaff right underneath the man’s chin, nearly clotheslining him with it before he stopped.
Red Robin pulled the plasti-cuffs out from his belt and started to put them on, the man’s breathing had sped up so he began to talk him down. The gun was out of reach anyway. “It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you I’m just going to restrain you until the police get he—“
Red Robin had been distracted, stupid. He’d forgotten to pay full attention and assumed the man had been unarmed after the gun. He was paying for it with the switchblade in his abdomen.
The hero’s fist hit the man’s jaw. Thankfully knocking him out long enough for Red Robin to get the cuff fully on. If he gave a payback kick to the man’s side before grappling away when he saw red and blue lights nobody had to know.
Tim staggered his way to lean against the roof scuttle; he slid to the ground with a low groan.
Oracle came over coms again. “How’d it go?” Tim was putting pressure on the wound with one hand and grabbing bandages with the other. “Just peachy.” He could hear her wince sympathetically over the earpiece. “Not good then?”
Tim grunted while wrapped the wound. “I let my guard down and got roughed up a little. Not the worst that’s ever happened though. Can we leave that bit out of the mission report though I really don’t want to have more training with B over this.” Barbara snickered, “Yeah we can, I heard he’s been on a kick since Nightwing took that hit to the ribs Thursday.”
He looked down over his wound and bandages, once it was deemed good enough he pulled his suit back into place and started to walk (read:stumble) back to the batcave. “This is why you’re my favorite. Anyways my shift is over so this is my goodbye.”
Babs made a sarcastic sort of awww sound. “See you at breakfast?” Tim hummed, “Maybe.”
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He signed off as he made it to the batcave, thankfully empty right now.
He really wasn’t lying, the maybe just depending on how well he could patch himself up. No squirting, bleeding a relatively small amount for the wound type and size. Overall not that bad.
Tim sat himself down in one of the medbay beds and started to clean the wound when he heard the elevator. Rushing to hide the bandages and put a rough hero suit back on did not feel good on an open and unbandaged wound.
Dick and Damien walked out in their suits, Damien looked at him and spoke in the usual weirdly flat tone of his. “Drake.” Tim nodded back at him. “Demon.”
Dick gasped with a little more drama than necessary, so exactly the normal amount for him. It interrupted Damien from insulting Tim for now though, so there was no complaining to be done. “Timmy!”
Dear God that hurt! Don’t cry don’t cry don’tcry dontcry dontcrydontcry it’s fine it’s just your older brother hugging you and squeezing the place where you got stabbed it’s fine— oh thank God it’s over!
Tim tried his best not to wheeze in relief when Dick let him go and forced himself into an even tone. “Are you and Damien taking the next shift?”
Dick was stretching to get himself ready now, foot above his head. “Yep, I promised him I would take him out. B needed to get some league work done anyway so he was happy to let us take his shift… well as happy as he gets about that stuff anyway.”
Damien scowled from where he had perched on a desk. “Father has yet to let me patrol alone.”
Tim bit back the urge to insult him, not wanting to start too much “friendly” banter, so they would hurry up and leave. “Well you guys have fun.”
. ~ ⋅⋆ ☼ ☆ •𖤓• ☆ ☼ ⋆⋅ ~
After about five more minutes they finally left. Tim sat back down and started to stitch the skin back shut, then padding, then bandages. That should be fine. He undressed and went to the showers to wash off, careful of the bandages but enjoying the hot water.
He probably should’ve warned Damien and dick about the weather. He should’ve noticed the guy had a knife, should have not let his guard down in the first place. He should’ve waited for the police. He should’ve finished the killer croc casework he was on.
He got dressed in civilian clothes, boxers sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He should’ve finished the reports for young justice. He padded up the stairs and into his room. He should’ve started the report for tonight. He should’ve had dinner with his family. He fell back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his legs hanging off uncomfortably.
He didn’t deserve to move to a more comfortable position. Comfort was for people who did their jobs right, for people who finished paperwork, for people who didn’t get stupid injuries. Tim rolled and grabbed his computer. He laid on his stomach with his legs hanging over uncomfortably. He left them there and opened the reports.