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Robin was NOT having a great day.
Realistically, it had started with the broken coffee-machine at the manor that morning. It had been early, too early for ANYONE to be awake, but it had been one of Those Nights where Tim’s brain started thinking then kept thinking then wouldn’t STOP thinking, and sleep was a futile effort tinged with failure, so coffee it was.
Except there WAS no coffee. So. That was a great start.
Damian hadn’t been in a great mood today, which was the second thing. Tim was always in danger of being stabbed or at least slashed with a knife when the brat wasn’t “coping well”, which, okay, fair; Tim would probably stab anyone he didn’t like, too, if he’d been raised by TALIA. Still. Tim liked his organs intact. So avoiding the kid became his top priority. Right after finding coffee.
Then there were the three reports to finish AND an upcoming project for school, and his parents were supposed to come home later in the week and if they got anything less than straight As on his report-card, he was DEFINITELY screwed, and what would Bruce think? Maybe he’d be benched from Robin for being unable to keep up.
But then patrol had rolled around, and oh God, he had NOT had enough sleep for tonight. Three muggings and five attempted robberies and six assaults and a whole entire chase with Riddler was just… a lot, it was a lot. If Robin had been stumbling after the first few muggings, he was definitely in bad shape by the time Nygma was lead away by the police.
“Stay here,” Batman ordered gruffly, obviously displeased with his partner’s performance tonight. And why wouldn’t he be? He’d had to save Robin almost every other hour, which was a new low, if the teen was being honest with himself.
Robin nodded mutely, watching Batman leap down from the building to talk to the police. It was suddenly much colder, and he hugged his middle, wishing that he was someone, anyone else right now.
And, okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic. But Robin was so tired of not being enough, and tonight had been the worst in a long time.
A movement in his peripheral vision snapped his attention back to reality, and he turned to look, blinking. Who was patrolling Crime Alley? Sure, they were near the edge, but none of them were actually allowed IN there; it was Red Hood’s---
Oh. That WAS Hood. And he had stopped moving across rooftops to stare in Robin’s exact direction.
Robin held his breath. Was he too close to the edge? Maybe Hood didn’t even like SEEING them near his territory. But he wasn’t moving except to cock his head.
Robin hunched his shoulders as another chill washed over him, and he was suddenly overcome with such a strong loneliness that he wanted to cry. He didn’t, of course. That would be really bad, Robin crying because of a measly bad night.
It’s just… he really wanted a hug. And Hood was right there.
Maybe if he didn’t think about it, didn’t look, Hood would go away. But he didn’t go away. He actually stepped closer, hesitant, but clearly curious. Probably wondering where Batman was. Or maybe he really DID want to kill; Robin hadn’t actually seen him since he’d left him at Nightwing’s apartment three weeks ago with the second actual hug he’d ever gotten.
That hug had been so good. Safe. Warm. Robin shivered harder, a small whimper escaping him. Crap. He just wanted tonight to be OVER.
The crunch of gravel was the only indication he got that he was not alone anymore, and he took a moment to school his features before raising his head. “I’m sorry, Batman, I didn’t mean---”
Not Batman. Hood strolled along the edge of the building, assessing Robin with that blank red helmet. He stopped when Robin saw him, cocking his head. His mechanized voice rasped, “You didn’t mean WHAT, kid?”
Robin’s heart shot into his throat, and he stepped back in fear, then forward in longing. Crap.
Hood hopped off of the edge, stalking closer. “Did that grouch give you lip tonight? Because I’d be MORE than happy for an excuse to… kid?”
Robin looked up from the gravel, shivering again. “It’s not him, Hood. Just… just m-me.” A wry smile broke over his face. “You were right; I suck as Robin. I can’t stop screwing up.”
Hood tilted his head a bit further, contemplating. His mechanized voice was somehow softer when he spoke again. “Not enough sleep will do that to you, kid.”
Robin shook his head, his gaze blurring, because Hood didn’t understand, he couldn’t possibly know how wrong Robin felt right then and how lonely he was and how much he wanted---
A gloved hand hovered in the space between them, and Robin stared, going still. Hood… DID know. He saw Robin, really SAW him, because why else would he be offering what the younger boy was too afraid to ask for?
A strangled sob escaped Robin’s throat, and he took the hand, tipping forward into waiting arms. The armor was hard and the roof was cold but the arms were WARM, and the hug was just as safe-feeling as he remembered.
“Geez, kid,” Hood muttered above him, tightening his hold. “You want a hug this bad, you can just ask. I won’t judge.”
“We gotta stay away,” Robin muttered tiredly, tucking his head under Hood’s chin with a sigh of relief. This was so much better. “Hood doesn’t like us.”
“Is that so?” Hood laughed quietly; a terrifying sound through the helmet, but it failed to make Robin afraid this time. “Yeah, okay, I don’t want you patrolling here, but listen… You just want a hug, you’re welcome to come around, okay? Don’t let Daddy Bat stop you; he’s a paranoid crackpot.”
A small laugh escaped the younger boy’s chest, and he felt himself easing. “You did say… whenever I want.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.” Hood growled at himself. “Where did I go soft? Dammit baby bird.” The threatening tone was undermined by the gentle hand ruffling his hair.
Robin allowed himself about ten more seconds of bliss before pulling away, rueful. “He’ll be back any second.”
“Mkay.” Hood ruffled his hair again, darting off as Batman hopped back onto the roof. “Get some sleep this week, baby bird.”
Robin watched him go, holding his breath as Batman neared. They all knew it was Jason Todd, courtesy of Dick’s excitement after they’d raided his apartment three weeks ago, but Tim & Dick were the only ones who Hood had interacted with so far, and Batman didn’t trust the man.
“What did he want?” the Dark Knight growled.
Robin felt a lump in his throat, but he swallowed it down. “To make sure I was okay.”
Batman’s gaze was heavy, and a long silence passed before he muttered, “Let’s get you home. It’s clear now you haven’t been sleeping, and I wish you’d told me.”
That… wasn’t as bad as a benching or a full lecture. Robin would take it.
************
Batman & Robin happened to cross the exact same building a week later, and if Robin had been paying attention to his surroundings instead of his throbbing ribs from an earlier fight, he would have noticed Hood sooner. Curse his terrible observation skills; he was gonna DIE someday and it would be all his fault and Batman would go rogue again.
But, yeah, Hood was watching; Robin noticed it when Batman gave a quiet grunt of irritation. Upon further inspection, Robin saw Hood running parallel to them on a roof to the west, his movements DARING them to come into his territory.
Robin took an aborted step forward, chasing after the promise he knew was waiting before remembering that he wasn’t alone.
“Robin?” Batman asked cautiously. Hood had stopped running, and was staring at them with open body-language, silent.
Robin stepped forward again, glancing fervently at the Dark Knight behind him. “I’m… can I…?”
“Why?” Batman growled out, and Robin instantly shrank back to his mentor’s side, curling one arm around his injured ribs. This wasn’t worth it; he’d just have to wait until he was alone, or… or…
Batman crouched a little, pulling a batarang out, and Robin tensed before he realized that the threat coming towards them was Hood himself. He jumped onto their roof with a running leap, stood slowly, and walked forward with very careful steps. He stared at Batman the entire time, still daring him to make the first move, to cross a line.
“Hood,” Batman breathed out; less a threat than a hopeful plea.
“Relax,” Hood’s voice ground out, and he planted his feet, opening his arms to Robin. “I’m not here for you.”
Robin stepped into the hug, LEANING, and Hood stayed firm as arms wrapped tightly around Robin’s back once more. A dry sob escaped Robin’s throat before he could stop it, because he couldn’t HELP it; this just felt so GOOD…
Hood growled in Batman’s direction. “You’re not taking very good care of your birdie, old man.”
Robin made a strangled noise, squeezing Hood’s waist. No… no fighting… not tonight.
Hood gave an exaggerated sigh, but he passed a hand down Robin’s back, firm and reassuring and REAL. “Ah, what the hell. Always wanted a baby brother.”
Robin missed the extremely choked sound that Batman made. He was too busy grinning into Hood’s armor. Hood, for his part, acted extremely smug.
************
It became a weekly occurrence. Batman & Robin stuck to that specific route on that specific night, which, admittedly, was Bruce giving in when Tim had quietly asked for the schedule to stay that way. Hood was there at the exact same time every single week, and every week, Batman held back while Robin leaped into the offered hug.
Sometimes Hood was injured, and Robin was extra careful to check each time after Hood’s first pained grunt. Sometimes ROBIN was injured, but Hood could always tell, because his hugs were gentler & he avoided wherever the injury was. Sometimes they were BOTH injured, and they just gently leaned into each other, keeping the other balanced with an added hair-ruffle or back-pat.
Tim wondered if the hugs were becoming as good for Hood as they were for himself.
Batman was always with him until he wasn’t. He began letting Robin patrol on his own again, taking a different route on some nights, and he sometimes missed these hugging meetings that he KNEW were happening. The fact that he was on coms didn’t matter, because he trusted Hood with Robin and Robin with himself and that was enough. They never really exchanged words, the two of them, anyway. They just hugged.
Tim didn’t realize that having a slightly caring big brother was making an effect on Bruce. Not until his mentor gave him a passing side-hug after a sparing match in the Cave, muttering, “Good job tonight.” Tim, though confused, had beamed for at least half an hour afterward.
That wasn’t the only time, either. Batman’s hugs were brief, but they were genuine, and they began to come in the mornings as a greeting, in the middle of the night during a slow patrol, and even, once, where Hood was probably watching them. Robin was pretty sure that that particular side-hug was just to prove some sort of point to Hood, but he wasn’t going to complain; he’d take what he could get.
The weekly meetings with his new brother were simultaneously everything he’d ever wanted & still not enough.
************
Jason moved back to the manor. Finally. And the family felt whole again.
Tim was ready each day to be dismissed back to his own home; to lose Robin; to defer to Jason & leave the family. But no one said anything to confirm his thoughts; on the contrary, his jobs on patrol increased in importance. He always had a seat at the breakfast table, and a spot on the couch on movie-nights, and even a place in Bruce’s bed when someone had such a bad nightmare that they all congregated.
Tim was one door down from Jason. He didn’t consider the implications of that until he realized that the two of them were more relaxed around each other than around anyone else. He wasn’t sure what to think of that, but now the room placement made sense. The unknown of whether Jason or Bruce had been the ones to decide made no difference in the warm fuzzy feeling Tim received.
He sometimes ran into Jason on the way to breakfast. The older boy was usually up before he was, but sometimes they bumped into each other on the way down, and Tim found himself realizing that he missed the contact. They didn’t hug anymore since Jason had moved so close.
The morning after he realized it, he purposefully bumbled into Jason in the hallways with a sleepy SQUEEZE. He might have been embarrassed had he thought twice, but Jason didn’t leave room for doubt. He only chuckled, ruffled Tim’s shaggy hair, and picked the teenager up like he weighed next to nothing.
Tim was carried, without injury, for the first time in years. He wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist and reveled in how happy it made him feel to be so securely held.
No one spoke to either of them about that when they saw it, or ever after. Jason’s pointed glares made sure of it.
************
The first time Tim found Jason having a panic-attack, he nearly had a panic-attack himself. How could someone so big wedge themselves into a place so SMALL? How long had he been there? How had no one yet noticed? It was the leg-area beneath the Bat-Computer, for crying out loud!!! Plus, didn’t he hate small spaces? (Some non-claustrophobic fear must have triggered him. Then maybe he’d accidentally triggered himself MORE. Was he stuck? Tim had a hard time believing he could be stuck if he really wanted to escape.)
Jason appeared to be through the worst of it, which Tim was grateful for, because he could still feel his own bones snapping beneath those large twitching hands when he thought too hard. His big brother was breathing shakily, his knees curled up & his head in his arms. He looked like he was trying to hide from embarrassment if nothing else.
There was barely any more space under the desk, but Tim managed to squeeze inside without pressing too hard on Jason. He didn’t ask what the trigger had been, or how long Jason had suffered alone. He just offered a hug.
Jason tipped into Tim’s arms, and Tim exhaled softly when the dark head settled against his chest, right above his heart. He gently carded his thin fingers through the sweaty white locks, recalling what made HIM feel better & giving it a shot. Jason gave over more of his weight, which drew a satisfied breath from the both of them.
“Sorry,” the man had the audacity to mutter.
“Shut up,” Tim fondly advised.
They never spoke of it again, and no one else knew. But every time Jason was looking a little shaky, vibrating in his skin a bit more than usual, Tim would be the one to offer a grounding hug. And it didn’t matter who else was watching, because Jason never ever passed the offer up.
************
“You’re getting really close to Jason,” Dick remarked one day, looking up from the book he was reading as if the thought had just occurred to him.
“Hm,” Tim agreed absently, arranging a few papers in the mess around him so that the case he was following would make more sense.
Dick crossed his legs in a ridiculously flexible position that no other human on Earth would have found comfortable. And then he said, with a hint of incredulity, “How?”
Tim looked up at that, his gaze somewhere far away, and hesitantly smiled. “He wanted to kill me the first time we met. He gave me a last request. Anything I wanted.” Tim huffed at the memory. It was kinda funny in retrospect. “So I asked for a hug.”
“And he GAVE you one? Just like that?”
“Yup,” Tim agreed softly. “Just like that.”
************
Tim had nightmares pretty often; at least twice a week, maybe three times on the bad ones. He always handled them pretty well, especially when there was a distraction like casework or a school project to turn his attention to when he woke up.
But this time… This one was different.
Tim had dreamed about Red Hood before, but it was always the red helmet that was attacking him, not Jason; not the brother he knew & had come to trust. THIS dream must have lost the memo, because it WAS Jason attacking him; Jason with his wild dark hair and ruffled white streak and deep mocking laughter and hands covered with Tim’s blood. His eyes were pure glowing GREEN. They’d never been that green before, and Tim knew that it was because Hood really, truly, fiercely hated him.
He bolted awake with a gasp, fumbling for the sheets to tear himself free. Jason. He needed to see Jason. He needed to APOLOGIZE, because he’d done something wrong, he knew it, he---
He was in front of a warehouse. How had that happened? Hood was on patrol, and Tim… Tim had known where to go. The docks near Crime Ally was where Hood had last pinged; he was still here. Tim had just moved on autopilot to get here. Right? Maybe he’d taken a cab. He couldn’t really remember.
He darted around the warehouse, searching frantically for Hood. Shooting. Down the docks. Now inside the building. Tim covered his ears as he ducked inside.
It was bright; too bright, too LOUD, but there was the flash of gunfire; the red chrome helmet. Tim almost went weak with relief as he ran forward.
Hood turned his head, shouted, and burst out from behind his cover, attacking the last gunmen with vehemence. Tim barely had time to blink, and then they were all dead, and the lights were all gone, and there was ringing silence in the utter dark.
“Kid,” Hood’s mechanized voice grated, and large hands grabbed his shoulders with bruising strength. “What are you DOING?”
Tim held his breath to keep from sobbing, lowering his gaze. His body began to tremble against his will, reacting in fear to the painful grip on his shoulders.
“Shit,” a low voice growled, and the hands withdrew for a moment before returning, now bare. They cupped Tim’s face, and his knees trembled at the WARMTH. He hadn’t realized how cold he was.
“You’re in your civvies, baby bird,” Hood’s voice rumbled. “What the hell happened?”
Tim opened his mouth, closed it, then squeezed his eyes shut as a tear tracked his face. “I’m so stupid. I just… nightmare… green eyes. You… you hated me… so MUCH… and I just… had to check…”
“You ARE stupid,” Hood growled now, but his hands were leaving, and he was reaching up, grasping his helmet. “But I definitely don’t hate you, baby bird.”
“Please,” Tim gasped out, nearly sobbing, and he could see that Hood was already moving to complete the unspoken request, because he was HOOD, he KNEW Tim so WELL by now, but… “Please, I know it was stupid, I know I could have died, I almost made YOU die, I’m so sorry and it won’t happen again and I’ll take what’s coming but PLEASE Hood I just… I need to see your… Show me your eyes, PLEASE.”
“Easy,” Hood said softly, his voice normal, and he was bringing Tim to his knees with a careful grip on his shoulders. “Look at me, baby bird. Open your eyes.”
Tim forced his lids up, trembling. A light was on now; a flashlight from Hood’s belt, and it was such a cold pale light, but it let Tim see. He was staring at bright teal eyes, too bright to be normal, but not GREEN, not filled with hate, not glowing. Only frustration and concern and love coiled in the irises; those eyes he’d been so afraid of seeing.
Jason stared back, barely blinking, for as long as Tim needed. When Tim had finally convinced himself that his nightmare wasn’t real, he broke the gaze, his breath hitching.
Jason pulled him into a warm hug, and he was wearing armor, but it was safe and reassuring and so FAMILIAR, and Tim found himself relaxing almost instantly as the sobs burst from his chest. These hugs were the ones that felt like the promise of protection.
“Hey,” Jason was saying, his voice soft. “How about you just give me a call next time, okay? This was beyond stupid, but I don’t think you’ll do it again.”
“I won’t,” Tim gasped breathlessly, curling as close as he could. “I’m so sorry, I… you PROTECTED me but you… you almost DIED…”
“Let’s just forget it, baby bird. CALL me next time, though.”
“I will, I swear I will, I’m so---”
“Kid, stop apologizing.” A bare hand carded through Tim’s hair, making him go boneless. “Breathe for a second.”
“Jay… Hood…”
“I’m here.”
“You… you don’t hate me… right?”
“No,” Jason said patiently, even though they both knew he was repeating himself. “I don’t hate you, baby bird. I can’t even be annoyed at you right now.”
Tim almost laughed. “That pathetic huh?”
“Just a bit.” Jason slowly stood, dragging his brother up as well, though he continued taking most of Tim’s weight as they walked out of the warehouse. After a long silence, he asked, “Are you still with me, baby bird?”
“What? Y… yeah.” Tim straightened up, trying to walk a little more on his own.
“Alright. I really understand panic and dissociation and blackouts, but if you’re feeling any of that, do you think you can hold it together until we’re home?” Jason’s tone was patient, but his grip was firm; he was worried. “I can’t hold you on the bike & drive at the same time.”
“I’m okay,” Tim insisted hurriedly, darting around to clutch Hood’s left arm; he wouldn’t dare impede his dominant hand from his weapons. “I just… I needed to see you.”
Hood was quiet after that. He was quiet when he handed his helmet to Tim, and quiet during the drive on his motorcycle, and quiet when they pulled into the Cave. Only when they were seated in the med-bay for Jason’s post-patrol checkup did he finally speak.
“I’m never gonna hate you again, baby bird,” he muttered, focused on cleaning a small cut on his own arm. “But you can stare at me every time you need a reminder, and if the nightmares get too bad, I’ll put a knife in your hand & kneel at your feet just to make you feel safer. Do you understand?”
Tim nearly choked, but he put a hand on Jason’s knee, whispering, “Just… just a hug is fine. And your eyes.”
Jason paused in his work to turn his head, and he stared straight into Tim’s gaze, solemn but frighteningly determined. Tim stared back for a very long time, memorizing the exact folds of teal color in his brother’s soft eyes. He refused to keep seeing green in his nightmares. If he formed enough memories of this color instead, it WOULD change. All he had to do was keep staring.
Jason patiently let him.
************
The two never told anyone else what had happened that night, even though it would be easy enough to track their recorded conversation from Hood’s com. If anyone else knew, they didn’t mention it.
Tim honestly thought that would be the end of it. But his anxiety got a little worse, and his nightmares… well…
“What is WRONG with me?” he moaned one morning, resting his head on the kitchen counter. “Nothing even HAPPENED, Jay.”
“‘Nother nightmare?”
Tim tried hard to keep from trembling, listening to Jason crack eggs in a pan. “Yeah.”
“… D’you think it’d help if I left?”
Tim immediately straightened, appalled. “Please don’t leave.”
“I won’t.” Jason looked up from his work, staring at Tim with those soft teal eyes until the younger boy relaxed.
Dick, who’d wandered in mid-conversation, said nothing.
************
“Jay,” Tim gasped out, barging into the library in the middle of the afternoon. It had been two weeks since that first awful nightmare. They’d only gotten worse, especially during naps instead of actual sleep, and Tim KNEW this; he should have made himself more coffee so that he didn’t drift off and this one had been the WORST and---
Jason had been sitting on the couch with a book in hand, reading to the other two, but he got up as soon as Tim entered, hurrying forward. Tim instantly stumbled back, making a choked noise that might have been the beginnings of a scream. Jason immediately froze.
The silence was deafening.
“Hey,” Jay said softly, far softer than the mocking tones of the nightmare. “Timbo, look at me. Look at my eyes.”
Tim raised his gaze, trembling, because that was why he’d come in here, but he was so scared and he could barely breathe and…
and…
soft teal blue.
Tim allowed a sob to escape his chest, and Jason was by his side between one blink and the next and his hug was so WARM and---
He forced himself to cry, knowing that it was the only way he was going to be able to breathe, and his big brother held him as carefully as if he were made of glass.
No one commented on THAT incident, either, but every time Tim got too jittery, Jason met his gaze & held it until the jitters eased.
************
Tim really hated bright green now.
************
He also hated neon lights. Unfortunately, that meant sleeping in the dark without his usual night-light. Fortunately, it also meant that he got more cuddles than usual when he slept.
************
Jay’s teal eyes glowed in the dark, even when they were normal. Unfortunately, no one realized this until Tim woke up beside him from a nightmare, then proceeded to tumble out of bed with a scream.
Jason continued cuddling with Tim to keep him safe, but he always kept his eyes shut at night after that.
************
The nightmares eventually stopped. Well, not all of them, but the ones about Hood did. Tim didn’t need to stare at Jason’s eyes every single day. Jason moved back to his own room. The comfortable ease grew in the space between them, and that space shrunk each day.
Tim continued claiming those wonderfully big hugs whenever the opportunity arose.
************
Damian hit a rough patch in his training, and it made him exceedingly irritable. After the third murder-attempt, Tim just followed Jason around everywhere. His older brother was more than ready to protect him, and his snarls proved just effective enough to keep the brat at bay.
Dick was making good headway with the kid’s reform. It wasn’t HIS fault he’d been raised by evil assassins.
Tim stuck by Jason anyway.
************
And then Batman died.
************
He wasn’t DEAD, Tim discovered; he was only lost in time, and he’d left clues for them to be able to find him.
Dick didn’t believe Tim. He took Robin away, gave it to the mini assassin, and mentioned Arkham.
Jason had already left to work with some friends for a while. He probably wouldn’t believe Tim, anyway. So Tim left the house, too. He fashioned his own hero. He left the country.
He might not have anyone in his corner anymore, but those clues had been left for a true detective. Tim WOULD find Bruce Wayne.
He would bring him home.
************
Bruce was finally home. He was finally able to hug each of his sons, crying as they cried. He forgave Dick instantly for not looking for him. He forgave Damian for almost running away from the family. He forgave Jason for his anger when Bruce had disappeared.
Tim tried not to be disappointed. He left them at the manor, returning to his empty cold Nest. No one cared about him anymore, anyway.
It used to be a lie, but somewhere between conquering his world alone, treating his own life-threatening wounds, and being ignored when he’d returned… Tim had come to believe it.
************
No one asked for Tim to come back. They texted sometimes. Bruce even went so far as to invite him to a family dinner.
Tim wasn’t family. He’d been repeatedly reassured of this from too many sources.
He didn’t go.
************
Tim wasn’t sure he wanted to live anymore. He wasn’t suicidal… He just didn’t see the point of getting out of bed, of running Bruce’s company, of protecting the city already too full of too many heroes.
He kept going anyway.
************
He wasn’t really protecting himself anymore, and Tim understood that he’d probably die that way. It wasn’t a very concerning thought, so he didn’t bother with it.
*************
Hood found out where he was living. It turns out he hadn’t known anything about Tim after he’d become Red Robin. Huh. And now he wanted to tell TIM off about that? Like it was TIM’S fault they’d lost touch? Because it was TIM who had dropped off the face of the Earth with no warning?
Jason was shouting pretty loudly. Tim’s head hurt. He wasn’t dealing with this; too many people had shouted at him, screamed him down, shut him out until he had no choice but to run the opposite direction.
So Tim screamed back. He screamed about how STUPID Jason was; hadn’t he even thought to CALL? It wasn’t TIM’S fault that Robin had been taken away, that he’d had to leave, that Dick had abandoned him for a younger model; it wasn’t HIS fault that he’d had to face Ra’s and the League of Assassins and the Council of Spiders all alone; he’d TRIED to get help, dammit!!! He screamed at Jason about how much he’d given up just to get Bruce back, about how much he’d lost, about how hard he’d pushed on, and STILL no one cared; no one could be bothered; it didn’t matter that Tim even existed because his death would mean NOTHING. The world would move on, and no one would even miss him.
Jason whirled on his heel, tears streaming down his angry face, and stalked to the door. Tim sank to his knees, trembling, spent. Jason was leaving him. He’d known it would happen; he just hadn’t expected it to carve a new depth to the hole already inside.
“Please,” he whispered hoarsely, hanging his head. “Please.”
No one answered, and Tim stopped begging.
A creak alerted him to the fact that he was not alone, not yet. Jason had stopped by the door, and Tim looked up with the emptiest feeling he’d ever had.
“Please,” he whispered one more time. “Can I have a hug?” He swallowed when Jason only stared, and his next whisper was so quiet that it barely registered. “You PROMISED.”
Jason stalked back, dropped to his knees, and pulled Tim into his arms.
“You’re an idiot,” went unsaid.
“I missed you,” wasn’t spoken.
“Please don’t do this alone,” hung heavy in the air, unsaid besides the desperate squeeze of Jason’s embrace.
Tim closed his eyes, and for the first time in two years, he relaxed.
************
Jason was gone when he woke up, and Tim tried to remember falling asleep. His last memory had been a hug. JASON’S hug.
The older boy had left no sign that he’d been there, even on the cameras. But the apartment was clean, and Tim’s fridge was full of good food. His laundry was even folded.
He decided that pushing through another day or two couldn’t be too hard.
************
Red Robin was injured. And, yes, okay, he’d miscalculated the dangers of this bust tonight, but hindsight is twenty-twenty or whatever. He was bleeding out too quickly to get back to his apartment, and he was too far from the manor even if he’d wanted to go there. He wasn’t on the other Bats’ com channel at the moment. He could go to a hospital, but… that would mean a lot more drama that necessary.
He sighed tiredly as he walked over the roofs to Hood’s nearest safehouse. Surely there were some medical supplies there.
It took him tumbling through the window before he realized that, huh, this safehouse was LIVED in. Jason stared at him from the dining-room table, a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth, eyes wide. He was wearing Wonder Woman PJ pants, one sock & a grey wifebeater with dried bloodstains on it. Tim would have laughed if the scene didn’t yank at something in his chest.
Or maybe that was the bullet wound.
Jason jumped to his feet, horror on his face, and Tim swayed. He knew he should be more concerned about bleeding out, but he’d never wanted so badly to be safe.
“Can I have a hug?” he rasped.
Warm arms wrapped around him as darkness enveloped his thoughts.
************
Tim woke up to such comforting warmth that tears immediately streaked his face. He wasn’t crying, not exactly. He just… couldn’t hold himself together anymore. Never had he felt more shaken apart than now.
A gentle hand rested on his face, stroking his tears away. It was a bit rough, but careful, the skin remarkably calloused.
Tim opened his eyes to see a sad teal blue gaze staring down.
“This is a dream,” he rasped out, his vision blurring with a fresh bout of tears.
“It’s not a dream, Timbo,” Jason said gruffly, pushing Tim’s hair back from his bandaged forehead. “You’re just concussed. Go back to sleep.”
“You don’t underSTAND,” Tim whispered emphatically, expelling all of his breath with the statement. “I don’t deserve this.”
“I think you deserve more.”
“I’m too busy to… to be resting.”
“Bullshit. I’ve already canceled the next month of your life; your patrol and business and friends are all handled. You need to heal, baby bird.”
“I can’t heal.”
“You have before.”
“You hate me.”
“I never hated you.”
“You LEFT me.”
Jason hesitated for a moment, staring into Tim’s eyes with a hint of sadness. “Yes… I did.” He pushed Tim’s hair back again before tucking the young man’s head under his chin. “And I’m sorry. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
Tim clutched a fistful of Jason’s shirt, sobbing aloud. “Please, Jay, just… please make it stop.”
“It HAS stopped, baby bird. You’re off the ride; those crappy years you went through alone are through. You’re not spinning anymore; you’re just dizzy.” A gentle hand rubbed soothing circles in his back. “You’ll be okay.”
“But… no… no one…” Tim pressed his face to Jason’s collarbone, shaking with a suppressed sob. His head hurt and his side hurt and his heart hurt most of all, and he knew, distantly, that he was reeling from finally facing all the hurt he’d choked down over the last few years. But he was dry and safe and WARM; strong arms were bracketing Tim on either side and gentle fingers were carding through his hair and a voice that had let him down but never truly LIED was telling him that he’d be okay.
“I hate my life,” he whispered, calming as exhaustion overtook him once more. “All the TIME, Jay. I hate being alive, being ALONE, and no one… no one CARES.”
“I care, baby bird,” Jason murmured back, his thick voice vibrating against Tim’s ear. A soft kiss landed in his hair. “I care, and I will go to the ends of the Earth to prove it to you. I’ll do what you did for Bruce. I’ll do more. Name your price.”
Tim took one shaky breath after another, committing the words to memory because he wanted so badly to believe them. The hand in his hair continued stroking, patient, and his headache was fading. It felt so NICE.
“I’ve only ever wanted one thing from you,” Tim finally whispered.
The strong arms shifted, wrapping fully around his curled frame, then SQUEEZING. Tim sobbed in relief, and his body gave a shudder as it relaxed. He was safe now. He was SAFE.
Tim finally allowed his soul to breathe.
************
Tim woke up in someone else’s apartment. He decided not to think today. Maybe he could just… drift.
He got up, shuffled to the door, and stared. The kitchen was lit. Food was on the island. Wonderful smells were in the air.
A mass of a man entered Tim’s vision, blocking out almost everything else, and Tim tilted his head up, up, and up to look at gentle teal blue eyes, and he suddenly KNEW.
Things would get better.
He tipped forward, closing his eyes, and allowed safe warm arms to catch him & pull him close.