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It had been a typical night for Gotham city. The air was heavy with rain from a past storm. Clouds and streetlights were covering the starry sky and steam rose from Gothams rooftops, mingling with the smock.
Jasons feet skid on the wet street as he dodges a baseball bat aimed for his head. The attacker stumbles forwards, right into his demise. Jason shifts the gun in his hand and hits the other into the head.
A last grunt is all the man can manage before he meets the ground. Jason doesn’t have time to celebrate, he moves in on another man swinging wildly with a knife. The blade glistens in the dim shine of a broken street light. His eyes are widen in fear, unfocused flitting all around.
Taking the shadow to his advantage, Jason closes in and quickly kicks the knife away. It clatters to the ground, innocently sliding onto a gutter and slipping into the sewers. He quickly has the guy in a headlock. The guy fumbles around, clawing at Jasons forearms helplessly. But it’s useless, the fight quickly drains out of the body, before the deadweight weighs Jason down.
Two down, one to-
A blunt object collides with Jasons back. Surprised Jasons stumbles over the body of the chocked out guy and plants his hands on the ground. Before he can take another hit, Jason turns around and blocks it.
The wooden plank burrows itself into his forearm. He feels the sharp pain travel up to his shoulder, before going numb.
“Where do you get these things from, seriously”, he mutters as he grabs it with his other hand and pulls its towards himself.
The third man doesn’t pause and closes in again. His fist swinging expertly for Jasons exposed side. It makes contact with the cement as he rolls out of the way and Jason is quick to hit the guy in the head with the wooden tool.
He lifts himself back up, turning the plank in his hands and looks at his work. The men lying on the ground, mostly unconscious and definitely hurt. A job well done, if he didn’t say so himself.
Jason stretches out his muscles before a groan travels through his yawn. Pain flares up in his back and he directs a glare at the last guy. He steps over the figure, before kicking him in the rips. The man doesn’t respond.
“Hood, what do you think you’re doing”, Jasons com buzzes to life, and Oracle’s voice rings in his ears. Jasons cocks his head at one of the cameras hidden in the dark.
“What? Just making sure he’s out. We wouldn’t want him to suddenly rise and attack me from behind”, he shrugs his shoulders guilt free.
With the men now taken out, he rounds them up and burrows his hands in their pockets. After the third one, bingo.
Jason pulls out several green vials protectively wrapped in bubble wrap. He finds more on the other men and puts most of them in his pocket. One of them he takes out to hold against the light. The green comes to life, shimmering acidly.
“So this is the new toxin on the market”, Jason mutters.
“You’ve got them, it’s time to bring them to the cave”, he hears Oracle in his ears again. Jasons mood sours immediately. He frowns at nothing and lowers the glass tube.
“You’ve really got a knack for taking the fun outta thing, O”
“I’ve got a knack for keeping you bats alive. You’re out in the open, with valuable drugs. Get to the cave”, Oracle shoots back quickly.
Before Jason can respond, he hears a car howl to life. Headlights turn on, blinding him. He lifts a hand to cover his eyes and the next thing he knows his body is lying on the ground.
———
His head is splitting open with a headache and a shrill ringing is covering the rest of his senses. Jasons huffs out a short breath, before trying to gasp in fresh air. He feels his chest expand painfully and shutters against the strain.
Finally his eyes slip open. And he sees nothing. His breath hitches against his hurt ribs and he rips his eyes fully open. Still nothing, only darkness. Jasons moves his hands towards his face to numbly feel the sleek metal of his helmet.
He fumbles for the clip at his jaw, releasing the thing with a small click. The Hood is off in less than a second and bright light floods Jasons irises. He winces against it, but quickly settles.
Jason lifts himself into a sitting position. He feels several things.
For starters he is sitting. The Red Hood doesn’t to sitting during his jobs. Crouching yes. Leaning against a wall with a lot of flair, definitely. But sitting? No, it just screams attack me I’m open.
Secondly, he’s in pain. Not the typical pain of getting punched or kicked. But hot, searing pain. It travels from his chest into his tingly legs. His head feels heavy, the ringing only intensified with his movements.
He forces as deep breaths as he can muster down his tight throat. It clears his vision a bit and Jason finally has the sense to look around. He quickly scans the area. There’s no-one in his proximity. At least not that he can tell.
Jasons eyes land on his helmet. It has a huge crack along the back. With shaky fingers, Jason picks it up and stares at the empty eyes. He tests the functions, before throwing it back onto the ground with a grunt.
Jason doesn’t know how long he had been out. But he knows that staying here any longer only heightens his chances at being spotted.
So with a pained sigh, he slowly lifts his throbbing body onto his feet.
His legs scream in pain when he manages a step forward, but he bites through it, stumbling towards the nearest wall.
Finally out of the light, Jason feels a little safer. He quickly scans the area before him again. His eyes hurt while they flit around in an attempt to gather some intel on what happened. But his brain only receives the tremors racking through his body. The stark taste of bile rises in his throat, he swallows thickly.
Okay, getting to his closest safe house it is, Jason decides.
It takes a while until he finally manages to bend his muscles to his will again. They feel stiff and closed up. Every bone in his body feels bruised and every step is like an earthquake on his brain.
When he finally reaches his house, he is glad for its shabbiness. The building stands abandoned in-between many others. It’s easy to break through the rotten door and stumble into the hallway. He works on autopilot, his feet drag him into his bathroom.
While stepping over the door well Jasons ankle pops and he goes down like a puppet. The ground is unforgiving on his bruised body.
———
Jason spends the next 24 hours fading in and out of consciousness. He knows he’s got a concussion and at least two broken ribs. His helmet prevented his skull from being split open on the pavement, but it couldn’t fully absorb the impact.
He manages to wrap his torso and stabilize his ankle. It doesn’t seem broken but there’s still significant swelling and a certain tenderness. He manages to hobble on it around his small room, even though there’s little of moving around.
His chest starts screaming at him every time he stands for more than a few minutes. It aches to lie down, it hurts to sit. The only thing he can do is wait it out, cursing through his staggered breathing. Being awake is harder than passing out. He tries to count his blackouts, keeping a mental log, in case they get worse.
After two days of being semi alert and in agony does Jason decide to move to another safe house. One not so deep in the Bowery and closer to Burnley. It at least has running water and working electricity.
The glass tubes he had picked up are still slumbering in his jacket pocket. By some miracle none of them broke. He remembers his conversation with Barb right before whatever happened. Every time Jason attempts to think about how he ended up like this his thoughts start to swim together, making his vision go blurry.
The way to his second safe house is long by foot. So Jason decides taking the rooftops. He knows he isn’t in top form, but a few bruises had never stopped him from moving. So he stands on the edge of his buildings roof with the ground looming at him from below. The grapple in his hands feels heavier than usual but Jason only tightens his grip on it before aiming and shooting.
The steel rope goes taught and he jumps, sailing through the air. As soon as he starts swinging, Jason feels a piercing stab in the middle of his chest. It takes his breath away and he nearly collides with a brick wall. His reflexes are the only thing telling him to let go. So he does and manages to semi successfully roll out his fall.
Jason stays on the ground for a long while. Sweat beads roll down his forehead and his heart is in his throat. At the attempt at taking a deep breath, Jasons lungs propel him to cough it back out, which in turn ripples like a stone in water through his ribcage.
He stands back up after a few minutes, feeling his strength quickly drain out of him. Walking doesn’t sound so bad after all. So Jason starts hobbling towards Burnley.
———
“Oracle to Nightwing, we’ve got a problem”, Oracle sounds in Dick’s ears. He’s perched up on a fire escape patrolling when she reaches him.
“Nightwing here, what’s up?”, Gotham had been relatively quiet and he was getting sick of being in this humid weather.
“I’ve lost contact with Red Hood a while ago”, her voice modular hid any emotion that could portray her. Nightwing shifted his stance.
“So? That’s not anything new. He goes awol on the regular”
“Not like this. He was just about to head back to the cave with a newly developed drug when he got cut off. His tracker also hasn’t moved in a hot minute”, that perked Dick up.
Sure Jason was known for turning off his com more often than not, but Barbara always had a reason for worry. And if it was about his little brother her hunches were like none other.
“Give me the coordinates of his last location and I’ll go check it out”, he was already in motion when Oracle filtered an address through to him. He was close by and arrived in a few minutes.
The street was eerily silent when he arrived. The only proof that something had happened at all was a bent street light. It stood at an awkward angle and by closer inspection did look like someone had driven straight into it.
It didn’t take long for him to discover something shining red. He quickly strode over and picked it up. Jasons helmet had a huge crack running across the front and after turning it in his hands did Dick discover an even bigger bent in the metal.
“Nightwing here, I’ve just found his helmet. It looks like something big hit him. There’s also evidence of someone driving into a pole”, he put through the com, glancing around. “Got anything on the cameras?”
“Not really. You’re out of shot. But I could see some kind of lights before communication broke off”, she muttered through.
“I’m gonna scour out the area”, Dick quickly vaulted to the next best roof to look at the scene from above again. Finding the helmet had set something off in him. A nervous itch traveled through his body. Jason would never leave his helmet without a reason.
And going by the impact it had taken he couldn’t have been fully coherent when moving. Maybe he had been taken by someone? He quickly shook his head, no it would take a lot more for Jason to be taken.
He ended up not finding anything that night. But after Jason had not shown any signs of him for more than three days did panic break loose.
Bruce was in hyperdrive to find Jason. Tim and Barbara were constantly checking security cams and his known safe houses. Dick was diverting from his usual routes and running deep into Red Hood territory.
Until one night he spotted a hooked in grapple dangling from a wall. He approached it cautiously. The thing slowly swayed in the breeze rushing through. Dick unhooked it.
“Any of you loose a grapple gun lately?”, he activated his com the first time for the night.
“What’s that supposed to be code for?”, came Tims aggravated voice back. Dick rolled his eyes.
“I found one just dangling from a roof, you think it could be Jasons?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Todd wouldn’t be able to run let alone grapple in his state”, Damian scoffed.
“I bet with how stubborn he is, he would try anyway”, Dick chided back. He looked around. If Jason had been here it must’ve been not long. One end was leading towards the west, towards Burnley while it curved on the other side, directing towards one of the bridges to Upper East Side.
Dick had to pick one direction. “O can you check any cameras near where I am right now?”, his question was answered by a confirmative ‘on it’. A few seconds later Barbara was back in his ears.
“It’s definitely Jasons grapple. I’ve got an angle of him swinging through your current street. He was headed west”, Nightwing thanked her, before quickly jumping into action.
———
The buildings in front of him blurred into one singular mass. Jason wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand, whereas his other hand was occupied supporting him alongside an uneven wall. Along the way the sickness had taken overhand and he had freed himself of some of his stomach acid.
The taste helps him focus on reality. Jason presses his eyes shut, clearing stray tears away and returns his walk with a clearer vision. His stomach throbs uncomfortably and he feels a second wave of nausea rush over him.
Jason tries blinking it away, but when he opens his eyes again someone is right before him. He flinches backwards, lifting his arms into a defense position out of reflex. Jason dares a second look at the figure in front of him and stills his movements. A thin smile spreads on his lips.
“Dickiebird”, the words feel far away as he speaks them, like a third person had said them. Nightwing only levels him with a look, before muttering something in his ear.
“What are you doing Jason, where have you been? We’ve been worried sick looking for you for five days now”, the words are spoken so fast, Jason has trouble keeping up with them. He squints at the man in front of him.
“Slow down man, I’ve got a headache”, for emphasis he lifts his fingers to his temples, massaging them. It doesn’t help. Jason hears a scoff.
“No wonder, I found your mess of a helmet”, Dick juts his hip out. Jason looks him up and down, he’s in his Nightwing suit.
“Great catching up with you, Boy Wonder. But if you don’t mind-“
“I can’t believe it. Do you have any idea how worried we were? You’ve gotta check in after going non contact out of nowhere! Or at least tell us beforehand, so we know”, Dick scoffs, but his accusatory tone turns soft at the end.
Now its Jasons turn to scoff, but it comes out more like a gargled cough. Stubbornly he crosses his arms across his chest, ignoring how wobbly he feels without the support of the wall. “What I do is none of y’alls goddamn business”, petulance was Jasons most strong fortitude as a kid. He feels annoyance rise up beneath his tiredness. “Now if you excuse me, I’ve got plans”, with his bed.
Nightwing doesn’t step out of the way. He stands, feet planted into the ground, shooting an angry look at Jason. Jason sighs exasperated. He really just wants to get to his house and fall head first onto his bed after some much needed pain medication. Why is his brother making things difficult now?
“Why are you doing this to me?”, the words sound whiny, even to Jasons ears. Nightwing shifts his feet in what seems to be surprise. His frown turns into an ‘oh’ and then returns tenfold with the addition of worry wrinkles on his forehead.
“Where have you been?”, he asks again, this time concern covering any accusation in his tone. Jason rolls his eyes and almost winces. Bad idea.
“Doesn’t matter, let me through”, he pushes himself against Dick in an attempt at rushing past him. But his shoulder is like a boulder. Jason finds himself leaning into him rather than pushing through him. Hands grab his shoulders and draw him back.
Jason closes his eyes again, before looking right back into Nightwing’s white lenses. They travel absentmindedly across his face, noting the upside down smile and the crunched forehead.
“You should really stop frowning like that. It makes you look like Bruce”, Jason lifts a finger and eases it in-between the folds in hopes of smoothing them out a bit. They only deepen, the grip on his shoulder tightens.
“What’s wrong Jay”, the words rush out in confused worry. Jason tries to pull back, wriggle himself out of the iron tight grip. But he had never been as good as a contortionist as his older brother. So he only ends up exhausting himself more.
“Hey, talk to me. What happened? Where does it hurt?”, fingers are traveling down his arm and across his chest, pressing on top of his bandage. Jason can’t contain the flinch and hiss of pain.
He blindly swats at the hand. “Stop”, his words were meant more commanding, but they come out watery and washed. And of course do his legs decide in that moment to give out. Jason all but sacks into Dicks chest. The other male seems more prepared than him and catches.
“Shoot. Hey, little Wing? Stay with me, okay? I’m gonna call for help, just- just stay awake”, Dick is in full panic mode now. He hefts his little brother deeper into his arms and presses his com again, alerting anyone to come pick them up.
Jason grumbles something unintelligible into his shoulder. Dick shifts him in his arms so Jason is facing his neck, rather than buried in his chest.
“Talk to me. What happened?”, he hears his own rushed voice through his beating heart. Jasons mouth opens as if to speak, before he closes it again.
“Hood, injury report”, Dick finally manages to control his voice. Jason visibly tenses at the words, some lucidity returning to his head. He goes to lift it, but stops himself.
“Ribs injured, probably broken”, Jason trails off for a second, before a shake brings him back, “Concussion, ankle”, he rattles off, mumbled.
“Ankle? What about your ankle”
“Don’know, I tripp’d”, Jason finds it in him to shrug one of his shoulders. He feels himself sink further into Nightwing.
“ ‘m tired”, he whispers after a beat of silence. A warm, gloveless hand presses itself into Jasons wet hair. When had it gotten wet? Now that he thinks about it, Jason feels the familiar feeling of soaked clothes hugging his skin. As if a flipped switch the sound of rain starts filtering in his ears.
“I know. They’re almost here, just hold on a minute”, Dick grips a tuft of Jason hair. Not painfully tight, but enough for Jason to feel it.
“Okay”, his voice sounds foreign to his ears, and slowly feels himself sack deeper into Dick. He is almost fully supported by him now. With Dicks steady grip on his hip and tight hold in his hair, Jason exhales a long, weak sigh.
———
The car ride is painful and annoying. Jason isn’t allowed to close his eyes for even a second, before someone shakes him. He feels sick and tired of all the birds flocking around him. Two are at his side and the most annoying one is talking his face off in his childishly high voice.
Jason glowers at all three of them. His head is leaning on a wet shoulder and hands are fumbling around his head. He tries to shove them off.
“Jason stop, I’m trying so see if there’s any damaged skin”, he hears Tims aggravated voice too close for comfort, before the hands land back into his hair.
When they press along the back of his head a soft whine leaves his lips. The hands press further along the spot, making Jason turn his head away and burry it in his support shoulder.
“I think that’s enough prodding for now. We can look at him at the cave”, he hears his shoulder talk. The rumble of words travels through him and he feels the hands disappear.
A wave of relief washes through him. Jason goes slack against Dick. Tims eyes shoot up to his oldest brother in concern, which gets reciprocated.
“His breathing doesn’t sound right”, he mutters after a beat of silence. Jasons chest is moving arrhythmically in small bursts.
“Yeah he said something about his ribs, they were tender when I felt them”, Dicks voice is a soft mutter as his eyes travel down to his younger brother.
“Jason, hey, stay awake”, he shakes the man again. The lump groans annoyed, but remains still. “How long till we’re there?”, he shoots a look in the rearview mirror, meeting eyes with Batman’s white lenses.
“Less than two minutes. Alfred’s ready for us, keep Jason awake till we know more”, his voice rumbles deeply through the car. Dick nods, before prodding at Jason again.
“Hear that little wing? We’re almost there, just hang on a tiny bit”, Dick can feel Jasons soft heartbeat through his shoulder. It doesn’t flutter and keeps a steady rhythm. He focusses on the grounding thumping.
———
When Jason opens his eyes next, a bright light shines in them. He closes them again, flinching back into something soft. Someone is there, mumbling garbled words. He doesn’t understand nor cares to. All he wants to is get rid of the damned headache.
Jason barely feels the stab of a needle in his arm, before something cold rushes into his veins. The relief is instant, he feels his muscles go lax as a numb blanket lays itself over his anguish. The pounding in his head remains, but he feels himself drift farther away.
He feels like sinking into warm water. The sounds around him are muted and his body starts to feel lighter. And so his overworked brain drifts into an overtaxed slumber.
Dick feels Jason go slack after the first drops of pain medication have entered him. Alfred is bustling around the boy. He cuts his shirt open, exposing a sloppily wrapped bandage around his ribcage.
With careful hands the butler pries it off and Dick can’t contain his hiss when he sees the deep purple lingering belong. His skin perturbs where it shouldn’t be and it is clear one of his ribs has broken off inside.
“Dammit Jay, what did you do”, he whispers as his hand finds itself in Jasons hair again. “We have got to notify Dr. Leslie. Master Jason most likely needs surgery for his ribs”, Alfred turns to Dick. He is quick to pull out his phone and dial her to inform her.
———
Hazy images flash in font of him. Jason feels himself go stiff, before taking a deep breath. The rush of fresh air feels foreign to him. As if he had been holding his breath for a long time. He exhales with a content sigh.
Something burrows itself in his hair, drawing unrecognizable shapes into his scalp. He takes another inhale, followed by another three. Jason feels himself slowly slip back into the luring darkness, when something shrill starts ringing.
The thing in his hair disappears, leaving the spot cold and empty. The ringing doesn’t stop until another few seconds, when its replaced by hushed words. Jason presses his eyes together, not ready to accept reality yet.
With a groan he attempts to turn away from all the sound and cover himself fully in his blanket. He quickly realizes his mistake. His side is on fire with every even attempt to move. Jasons eyes shoot open as his sleep is fully washed away and goes to sit up. Which of course doesn’t get him far, he barely gets his shoulders off the mattress, before he sacks back into the soft pillows. He’s already out of breath, sweat slowly forming on the bridge of his nose.
Squinted eyes appear in his fuzzy field of view.
“I gotta go, bye”, Dick finishes his call quickly shutting his phone off. He leans back a bit and Jason follows him with heavy eyes. When Dick finally directs his attention back to Jason, he’s visibly relieved.
“Thank god you’re finally awake”, his older brother starts, lowering himself down beside the bed. His hand finds Jasons fist and holds it warmly. “Let me adjust the IV a bit”, with that the warmth is gone from Jasons hand, he can’t be bothered to turn his head to see his brother adjust the drip he must be attached to.
Instead Jason tries to look around. His throat feels incredibly itchy and it takes a few forced swallows to get it to a tolerable sliminess. It still feels disgusting, but at least he doesn’t feel like breathing down raw sand his sensitive flesh.
Dick reapers in Jasons view. The burning in his side slowly turns into a dull throb. He feels his eyelids shutter briefly at the next blink. The hand lands again on his now uncurled fingers, holding it steady. And although Jason would never admit it aloud, it helps him ground himself.
Jason never liked the weary effects pain meds have on his body. He doesn’t enjoy how his body, the thing he had honed for years into perfection, gets all gooey and unresponsive. He wouldn’t be able to even lift a finger if something happened now.
Dick squeezes Jasons hand again, bringing his groggy brain back into the med room. Jason eyes Dick with bleary eyes. Dicks smile is thin and the bright like makes him look like a walking corpse. Jason could probably find a perfectly fitting joke about his own death in there somewhere, but his brain starts to feel all foggy again.
Another blink later and Dick’s hand is gone, so is the vigilante. Jasons eyes flit around the small room and finally settle on the chair next to his bed. There’s a blanket draped over it half hazardly, almost slipping off.
When Jason tries lifting his cement filled limps they obey him with little protest. He slowly pulls himself up on shaky arms. Sitting after god knows of long takes his brain a little to adjust, but Jason is perfectly content with the little nausea he feels bubble up briefly.
Next, he lifts his shirt to look at a fresh, tightly wrapped bandage sit around his ribcage. The forearm, which had also taken a hit the other night is also wrapped in the bright fabric. His shoulders protest like rusted hinges when he slowly starts circling them to wake them.
Once Jason is fairly sure he woke up his body the best he could, he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and sets them down. The ground is freezing on his sensitive skin, but that turns out to be the least of his worries as he pushed to stand.
The bandaged side flares up again, but Jason takes another wobbly step towards the exit anyways. God only knows how long he has before one of the Bats shows up to berate him. Getting out and into the safety of his own four walls sound way more appealing.
Jason is halfway towards the motorcycles when he spots his Red Hood gear. He makes a beeline for it, putting it on with a little struggle and continues towards the garage.
The ride to one of his houses if cold and straining. When he finally dismounts the red bike, Jason feels his muscles shake from exhaustion. But he still has a little bit to walk. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to actually stop by his safe house with Bat technology.
The wind breezes through his whole body. There’s no mercy given to anyone in this dog forsaken city. Jason curses quietly into his zipped up jacket.
When he finally sets foot into his apartment, Jason quickly heads for his bedroom and drops dead on the soft sheets. It’s one of the nicest houses he has, only because the thing came already furnished, so he didn’t have to actually put effort into something he would abandon the moment any of the bats got wind of it.
But for the past year Jason had managed to keep it hidden, and he had to admit the place was growing on him. It looked actually lived in with all the furniture and decorations. He even had multiple rugs distributed through the flat, a nice touch he wouldn’t have bothered adding in himself.
———
Dick, and Tim had just finished cleaning up some illegal dog fighting ring, when Alfred buzzes in their ear.
“What’s up AA?”, Nightwing pulls on the rope around one of the organizers wrists, making it more tight than necessary.
“Red Hood has left the cave”, comes his all-time dry voice. Dick stopps his movements and sees Tim glance over towards him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me”, Dick sighs exasperated. But before his thoughts can spiral into anything, Alfred interrupts his mind.
“Not to worry, I’ve managed to track him towards a house in Upper East Side. I would very much appreciate one of you checking it out, discreetly, of course”
“Thank god we have you A, RR and I are on our way right now. Let’s keep B out of it for now”,
Dick makes. quick way of rounding up the rest of the guys after hearing a confirmation from his ear and then they are on their way.
The house they end up in front is way less shabby than any other houses the Bats have seen from Jason. This takes an immediate stone off Dicks chest. At least Jason had been smart enough to go to an actually livable accommodation this time.
When they enter through the window, they stop for a second.
“Are you sure this is the right floor?”, whispers Tim from beside Dick. He nods, but checks the address Alfred had texted them anyways.
“Yup, this is it. Who knew Jason would have this kind of taste in decor”, he walks over towards a shelf filled with bobble head animals.
They stare at him with hauntingly large eyes.
Dicks quickly shakes out the cold shower washing over him and heads deeper down the hall. He manages to stay almost soundless thanks to the carpeting covering most of the wooden floorboards. And holy shit, Dick had never seen Jason use that many carpets ever, or at all for that matter.
His rooms were mostly made of creaky floorboard, difficult to sneak up on and irrelevant if they got stained with anything.
All his doubts were washed away when he opens an ajar door.
Jasons humungous body fills out the entire twin sized bed. From what it looks like, he didn’t even bother throwing a blanket over himself before passing out. Dick only dares to take one step closer. Jason had never been the heaviest sleeper, and waking him up while looming over him would sure end in escalation.
His face is turned towards the door and squished in one of his pillows. One arm is dangling off the side, keeping up the image of him literally having fallen asleep right then and there. Dick can vaguely see Jasons back rise in a calm pattern.
Before he can do anything he would surely regret, Dick quickly steps back and shuts the door.
When he returns, Tim is browsing through Jasons kitchen cabinets.
“Well it’s definitely him slumbering in there”, Dick points one thumb back in the vague direction of Jasons bedroom. Tim spares him a short glance, before continuing to rummage through the shelves.
“Are you really sure it’s actually his house? This kitchen is filled with all kinds of food and ingredients. Jason doesn’t so a fully stocked kitchen”, Tim finally turns around, after shutting the last drawer. “Hell, he even has baking utensils”
Dick just shrugs, before joining Tim in the kitchen. “He’s always been an avid cook. I don’t suppose that’s changed over the years. And hey, at least now we know that he actually has some place that’s livable. Imagen we would’ve found him in the one by Robinsville”
Both of them shudder at the thought of having to somehow haul Jasons stubborn ass out of that small, stinky place and get him back into the cave.
“Well then, let’s start”, Dick clasps his hands together, in what he hopes is quiet enough. “He’ll be hungry when he wakes up”
He feels Tims eyes linger on his back and turns around.
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just that… are you sure we should cook be the ones cooking?”, Tims eyes briefly flit away at the sight of Dicks stare, before he forces himself back into eye contact. Dick lightly scoffs at the idea, before rolls his eyes.
“Puh-lease, we are not That bad at cooking”, with that he turns back around to make himself familiar with the large kitchen. Tim hesitates for another second, but eventually gives in with a sigh.
“If the house burns down, it’s your fault”
———
Jason wakes to the smell of something burnt. It takes a little for his brain to register what exactly is wrong with that, but when it finally clicks, he is out of bed in a flash.
He skids on the carpet covering his hallway on his way out of the room, but pushes on nonetheless. There’s a small smokey haze in the flat, dusting his view in a grayish filter.
Jason can hear the voices before he manages to reach the kitchen in hurried steps.
When he finally arrives, Tim is shooting a surprised look in his direction. Beside him, Dick is stood at the stove, scraping something off with furious movements. “What in the ever loving god is going on here”, Jasons voice is rough from unuse. He clears his throat as Dick whirls around to face him, a guilty expression on his face.
His eyes are wide open and his whole body carries the just-caught-stealing-cookies pose.
“It’s all his fault, I swear”, Tim quips up after a tense moment of silence. Dick elbows Tim in the side, which gets returned by a foot on Dicks toes.
“I can explain, little wing”, Dick lifts his hands in a calming manner, while he slowly starts approaching Jason.
“You better do that quick and well”, Jason leans on the doorway he’s standing in, arms crossed.
“Why don’t we sit down fi-“
“Nu-uh, I’m pretty sure you have a permanent ban from Alfreds kitchen. And you”, Jason turns towards the little twerp covering behind Dick “Live off of coffee and energy drinks. Now why would either of be in my kitchen of all places”
“We were just trying to get you a home cooked meal for when you wake up”, Dick directs Jasons attention back towards him.
Jasons glare settles on the mess of what was former called his kitchen. Food and grime is littered all around the room. Some sort of sauce had landed on the ceiling light, dusting it in bright orange flecks. His eyes wander towards his stove, which Dick quickly steps in front of.
Jason is having none of his. “Outta the way”, he pushes past Dick and stops to take in just what he is seeing. His cast iron skillet is covered in some sludge that also covers half of his stove. He can see where there have been attempts made to get it back into the pan, but that only resulted in the stuff being pushed over the hotplate.
When he finally has done enough looking at the massacre, Jason turns back towards the guilty. Dick and Tim have created a notable distance between Jason and themselves.
“Jaybi-“
“Shht, I don’t wanna hear another word outta either of your mouths”, Jason makes a slicing motion with his hand at Dicks attempt at words.
“I need a shower”, he decides, after releasing a slow breath. When he’s back in his hallway, Jason yells over his shoulder, “the kitchen better be clean when I come back, and you both gone!”
The water is welcomed on his grimy skin and when Jason steps out of the bathroom, the scent of burning sludge is finally dissipated to a tolerable dose.
“Jay, what do you want on your pizza!”, comes Dicks voice ringing through his ears. Jason pulls a face, of course they wouldn’t just leave. He can only hope that Tim and Dick haven’t told anyone else about his hide out yet. But with the way Dick kept secrets, it was a big gamble Jason would not bet even his least favorite gun on.
Jason appears in the living room to a seated Tim and Dick. They sure made themselves at home, while actively ignoring his words. With a resigned sigh Jason drops into the armchair beside the couch and winces slightly.
The Lazarus pit was good at making his regeneration much faster than a normal persons one, but still, broken ribs and a surgery wound are not done healing in a mere hours. Not to mention the energy it sucks out of his body.
“I don’t care, make that two pizzas though”, at the thought of having two steaming pizzas in front of him, Jasons mouth starts to water. Dick quickly orders and when he’s done all eyes are on Jason.
Jason only stares back, he doesn’t quite know what to do with two Bats in his house. Especially in this house, which isn’t like any of the others he owns.
“So little wing, nice crib you’ve got”, Dick drawls out after an uncomfortably long stretch of silence. Tim rolls eyes and Jason presses his fingers into his temples.
God forbid Dick having normal conversation starter.
“How long was I out for in the cave?”, Jason chooses to ignore Dicks awkward try at small talk with him. It never worked with Jason. Although Dick’s a phenomenally charismatic public figure, he never got through to Jason.
“Oh after I practically saved your life? Which you’re welcome by the way-“
“I could’ve made it home by myself, you just blocked my path”
“Around five days or so. Nothing major at all, so no worries on you just up and running as soon as you’re awake”, Dicks sarcasm is hard to overhear and Jason feels something petulant bubble up inside him.
“Leslie thinks you’re insane by the way”, Tim quips in. “She’s spent hours reattaching your rib and fixing up any internal damage. You’re not supposed to move for another two weeks, let alone be up and about”
“Well thanks to my rebirth, my body doesn’t exactly follow any normal persons schedule on healing”, Jason shoots back. Dick and Tim exchange a look at which Jason only narrows his eyes.
“What happened anyway?”, Dick switches the topic without expressing the obvious questions that linger behind his eyes. Good for him, Jason decides. He isn’t sure that he would be able to talk about it calmly right now.
Jason only shrugs with one shoulder, before leaning back into the soft back of his seat.
“Dunno, I was fine taking out the guys and then I wasn’t”, he thinks back to the long gone night. “There were bright lights right before I woke up on the ground”, he mutters absentmindedly.
“Probably from a car. When I arrived at the scene one of the lamp poles had been driven into. And even Leslie said that your wounds match up with something big hitting you at deliberate speed”
Jason kept staring at the ceiling. Damn that was embarrassing, the big bad Red Hood was taken out by a measly car. He was definitely out of commission for a couple of days, but two weeks tops. He can use that time to get behind those fuckers who dared to attempt to take down Red Hood.
Jason doesn’t notice the sinister smile slowly spreading on his face, as he thinks about what exactly to do with the men once he finds them. Neither the slightly concerned looks on both his brothers faces.