Chapter Text
Jason didn’t think he’d ever grappled somewhere so quickly.
His lungs were burning inside his rib cage. The arm that held the grapple gun was already sore and protesting, but Jason didn’t care. All he cared about was getting the hook into the right places fast enough. As soon as the catch released from one grapple point, he’d already chosen his next one and was angling himself to shoot.
He had worried when Veronica’s garage was accessed. He only gave her location out to one Bird, and that Bird was doing a solo patrol tonight. So, Jason had suited himself up again even though he already said he was done for the night. He started to make his way over to the garage, wanting to at least be in the same block radius as the kid.
Jason told Tim to use Veronica and her sisters if he was ever in trouble. It wasn’t baseless of Jason to assume something had happened.
Then. Then something worse happened.
Alfred had pinged his comm, and Jason had immediately started grappling quicker than he could blink. He hadn’t even processed what Alfred had to say before he was tearing through the night sky. Alfred wouldn’t comm him after Jason’s patrol was over unless something was really wrong.
Jason aimed his grapple to another ledge as he flung himself off another rooftop. It cinched to the stone halfway down the building. Jason swung, caught a look of another grapple point, then pressed the recall button. He whisked through the air so hard that his shoulder threatened to pop itself out of its socket.
The words ‘in-suit impact-alarm’ in Alfred’s voice were echoing in his ears. It was all Jason could think about as he raced against time.
Jason finally began down the street that Alfred had said the ping was on. Even with his helmets filters, he could already smell the burnt rubber. He pushed himself faster, farther, trying desperately to get there. Jason hoped he wasn’t too late. The ping had happened at least fifteen minutes ago already. He shouldn’t have chosen a safe house for tonight so far out from Veronica.
Jason’s first view of the scene made his heart stop beating in his chest.
There were bits of Veronica strewn across the road. He knew it was her; he had built her back up from nothing. He could recognize those pieces anywhere, as mangled as they may be. Jason followed the destruction upwards, heart throbbing up into his throat, terrified. Please let it have been Tim crashing into a wall, or something. Anything that wasn’t as bad as he was imagining.
Tim was underneath the bike.
Jason started swearing. He took a few less-than-stellar grapple points to get to him faster. Jason knew intimately how heavy Veronica was. Tim must have been struggling to breathe if he was trapped for fifteen minutes—
He made himself take a deep breath. Thinking about being trapped right now would not do Tim any good. He needed to stay calm to help Tim stay calm.
Only, once Jason had a clearer picture of the kid, it was abundantly clear that Tim was not staying calm at all.
Tim was trying desperately to get Veronica off of him. He was clawing at the hot metal with wild abandon, using both of his hands to try to leverage Veronica off of him. Tim’s entire left arm was covered in scratches and burns and the kevlar was shredded as much as his skin and did Tim yank his arm out from under the bike—?
“Stop!” Jason yelled. He needed Tim to stop moving. He had no idea what kind of injuries the kid had, but based on the carnage of Veronica, it was going to be bad.
The entire front end of the bike was a crushed mess. There would be little to no chance he could fix her; her entire frame must have been compromised. That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was just how fucked up that could have made Tim. He was probably driving when he crashed. How else could Tim have gotten under the bike?
Tim did not stop moving at Jason’s command. In fact, Jason’s voice only served to make the kid struggle underneath the bike even harder. Tim then tried to sit up while still trapped underneath Veronica, making the weight of the bike press down even harder into his probably-damaged ribs.
“FUCKING—STOP MOVING!” The scream is ripped out of Jason’s throat, panic and terror overwhelming him. He hasn’t felt this kind of adrenaline in a long while.
Tim finally, thankfully, collapsed back down onto the pavement. The kid laid there shivering, probably crying, for several moments before Jason could reach him.
Jason finally touched down, then sprinted the rest of the way over to Tim. His eyes were fixed on the kid lying there, helpless, bleeding and crying all over the pavement.
This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have had Veronica set up and ready for a ride. He knew she turned too stiffly. He should have realized Tim wouldn’t have had enough strength to cut a corner with her. That was probably what happened; Tim was fleeing from something, trying to go fast enough to outrun it, and he couldn’t control her.
Veronica wasn’t going to be rebuilt. It didn’t matter how much time he spent pulling parts together for her, or how many hours he spend with his hands covered in her grease. She had her chance to help Jason, and she wasted it. After Tim was secured and taken care of, Jason was scrapping this bike.
“I’m sorry.” Tim sobbed as soon as Jason was close enough. He was too busy raking his eyes over the situation to see where it would be best to get his hands under the bike to pay much attention.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll fix her up, I promise,” Tim’s breath hitched. Jason abandoned his search to look at him, worry spiking for how heavy the kid was breathing. “I won’t touch another one of them again. Never, ever. I don’t wanna fight, please.”
Jason’s heart completed its drop to the bottom of his stomach. It was already on its way there with how the kid looked trapped underneath the bike, but the objective horror in Tim’s voice as he tried to apologize made Jason’s stomach complete its turn. It stalled his thoughts and froze his tongue as bile threatened to rise.
When did he give the impression that he cared more about the bikes than Tim?
“I don’t care about the fucking bike.” Jason spit as his knee hit the ground roughly, right next to Tim’s head. He didn’t care that he could feel the harsh recoil going up his entire leg at the force of it.
Jason shoved his hands under Veronica in the gaps he spied earlier. He didn’t care how heavy she was. He pushed her up and off of Tim in one big rush, panic and fear at the thought of how long she—it—had been laid out over his little brother in the forefront of his mind.
Once he was free, Tim immediately scrambled out of the way while heaving large, groaning breaths. As Tim curled up into himself, Jason took the opportunity to give the bike a swift kick with his steel toed boot.
The hunk of metal might have carried Tim away from a fight, but it caused Tim injury. Jason knew which one would be more important to him.
“I’m sorry,” Tim said again. Jason whipped his head around to look at his little brother, curled into a small ball on the pavement. “I’m so fucking sorry. Oh, god. I’ll make it shine, I promise. I swear. It’ll run like new.”
Jason tasted the bile that had been pushing up his throat in the back of his mouth. He couldn’t listen to Tim blather like this any longer. The kid sounded… he sounded actually afraid of Jason.
Even when Jason had attacked the kid on their first meeting, Tim had been confident. He had been quipping even after finding the trail of dead bodies Jason left behind. When Tim had confronted Jason at his motel room later, Tim had been snarky and confident. He was exactly how a little brother should act, completely ignoring how Jason had gutted Dick the night before.
Wary had happened in the year after. Concerned and worried had been there as well, but scared of Jason specifically never came to pass.
Jason wanted to throw up. Jason quickly disengaged his helmet and let it clatter to the ground. It would be better to just heave onto the pavement then spit up into that thing.
He wanted Tim to be able to see his face as well. He had never been good at masking his emotions. They always wore too clearly on his lips, evidenced by how they were currently pinched into a terrified grimace. Behind is domino mask, his brows were still contorted with his worry.
Maybe that would get the kid to see how not angry Jason was about this whole thing. All Jason could feel was worry. Tim needed to see that. What Jason needed was to get Tim to stop curling up like that, so he put his anxious energy into that instead.
He placed his hands on Tim’s shoulders and gently as he could. Jason turned the kid over onto his back, maybe a bit too quickly. Jason’s fear of broken ribs puncturing Tim’s lungs ignited again, so he finished out the movement slower. Once he got Tim settled, the kid was choking out a cough.
Jason tried to tell himself he did the right thing by getting Tim into a better recovery position. All he could think was that the movement had done what Jason was afraid of: punctured his lung. Tim could be drowning in his own blood and Jason would have no idea. He needed Alfred here minutes ago.
“It’s a fucking machine,” Jason spit out. “It means nothing to me.”
Tim’s face contorted into confusion. The utter lack of comprehension absolutely split Jason’s heart open. The kid huffed out a small, confused sound.
Jason looked down from the kid’s face to scrutinize his body. He didn’t know where to pause. Tim was completely covered in abrasions. His suit was completely torn in multiple places.
There was blood coming from somewhere.
“Where are you hurt?” Jason immediately asked, trying desperately to figure out where the blood was coming from. He raked his eyes across the kid’s body, desperate to find the source.
“What?” Tim asked. Jason wished he could see his eyes through the visor of his bike helmet.
“Injuries, Robin,” Jason doubled down. “Where?”
“I… I. Oh, God,” Jason started hovering his hands over Tim’s body, unsure of where to begin with the kid. His heart was beating a mile a minute. What if he touched somewhere wrong and ended up hurting Tim worse? “Everything hurts, Jay.”
Jason felt the lump in his throat grow ten sizes. Not only did he want to throw up, but now he wanted to sob. Tim’s tiny voice saying his nickname like that was something that Jason never wanted to hear again.
Tim tried to curl in on himself again, keening all the while, which spurred Jason into action. He shoved himself into Tim’s space to prevent him from folding in half. Jason gently curled one around Tim’s right armpit and the other across his hips, bringing the kid flush against his chest. Jason could not have Tim curling into a ball when he didn’t know the extend of his injuries.
The kid sobbed, trying to shove his head under Jason’s chin. The helmet Tim still wore clanked against Jason’s jawbone uncomfortably, but Jason did not let go. He wouldn’t let Tim accidentally hurt himself more than he already was.
Jason tightened his grip on the kid, trying to stop him from struggling. Jason hand slid from where he put it right in the middle of Tim’s chest to bump against Tim’s left shoulder.
Tim started screaming. Jason let out a small sob himself at the sound, knowing it would be lost in the cacophony the kid was making. With the way Tim was now struggling against Jason’s loosened hold, he could see how Tim’s arm wasn’t moving properly. It must have been dislocated in the crash.
“Alright,” Jason tried to sooth. Speaking past the churning of his stomach was incredibly difficult. The sound ripping its way out of Tim’s throat was horrific, and Jason had caused it. “Shit, shit. I’m sorry,” There was only one course of action from here. Jason needed to pop Tim’s shoulder back into place. The sooner, the better. Jason hated that he needed to cause Tim more pain. He told himself that the pain now would make less pain later. “Okay.”
Jason made impassiveness to rise to the surface. He didn’t think about how the kid had looked when Jason found him underneath the bike. He didn’t think about how Tim was clawing against Jason’s jacket, delirious and suffering, trying to get out of his hold. He didn’t think about the choked scream that was still vibrating in the back of Tim’s throat.
All he forced himself to think about was grabbing Tim just so, and applying enough pressure so that Tim’s arm went back into its socket properly. Just like Bruce and Leslie taught him, Jason relocated Tim’s shoulder.
Another gasp of pain left Tim’s throat before the kid went eerily silent. The fingers that were desperately clawing at Jason’s leather jacket stuttered and slipped against the fabric. Jason felt concern more than relief as the kid went limp against Jason’s chest.
“I think ‘m ‘onna throw up.” Tim mumbled weakly.
Jason cursed. He should have assumed that having an influx of pain would have a less than desirable affect on the kid. Even Jason would have a similar reaction if he had to have a join relocated after being in a wreck.
He fumbled with the straps underneath Tim’s chin to get the helmet off of the kid’s head. Jason knew from experience that throwing up in a helmet was one of the worst sensations in the world, especially when you were already in pain. That was why Jason had taken his helmet off earlier, after all.
They managed to get the helmet off just in time. As soon as Jason slid it off, Tim was leaning over Jason to aim for a spot on the pavement. Jason helped him with a soft hand on his back. He smoothed circles over Tim’s back as bile and water spilled out of the kid’s lips.
He had to turn his gaze away and focus on the sound of cars in the distance. He didn’t want to also vomit while Tim needed him. Jason had to keep his iron clad control over his stomach active. Tim collapsed back into Jason’s chest. Jason embraced the kid with gentle arms.
“The bike…” Tim mumbled again. Jason let a shuttering breath leave his lips instead of the sob he wanted. He had to keep himself still, for Tim’s sake. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean it. There—was… this guy. Asshole.”
“Asshole.” Jason agreed readily. Tim was steadily sinking deeper into Jason’s embrace.
With each blink, Jason couldn’t help but remember what Tim looked like when Jason found him. With the knowledge that someone had hit his little brother, not the kid hitting a wall, he mentally rearranged how he was going to spend his night.
Alfred could take care of Tim once they got him back to the Cave. Jason had been planning on helping, but if Alfred didn’t need any assistance, then Jason had someone to hunt down. No one was allowed to hurt a Bird and get away with it.
Jason focused on how the kid felt breathing against his chest to chase away the image. “I can get a new bike. I can’t get a new Tim.”
It took a minute for Tim to respond, but instead of words, the kid began to cry. Jason hoped that it was because that the kid was starting to believe what Jason had been repeating. Logically, he understood that Tim was most likely concussed and unable to process Jason’s words. The emotional side of his brain, however, kept the nausea present in the back of his throat.
Jason never wanted to hear Tim sound so terrified in his remorse toward him ever again.
He kept his eyes fixated on Tim’s chest, making sure that it was moving up and down without any trouble. He rubbed his hand up and down Tim’s arm with a feather-light touch.
“‘M sorry.” Tim apologized again. The hope that Jason had just begun to feel died in his chest. The repeated apologies were not doing anything to help Jason’s nausea. Tim thunked his head against Jason’s chest.
“It’s just a bike.” Jason repeated. The words were much wearier than they were the first few times. Jason was finally accepting that Tim wasn’t going to process anything Jason was saying. He was Batconcussed, and likely wouldn’t remember this interaction at all.
Tim gripped the zipper on Jason’s jacket. Jason situated them so that he could grab it comfortably without twisting his torso.
“I… I think I broke something.” Tim stumbled over the words. They made Jason’s heart drop again. It had just come back up to rest in his chest, and now it made its home in his stomach again.
He realized he didn’t want to know how hurt Tim was. As they were, Jason could pretend that Tim had just hit his head, and the smoking bike laying in front of them still had nothing to do with it. But any indication of what Tim had hurt would be useful to Alfred, so he forced out of his mouth: “What bone?”
Tim shook his head and squeezed his eyes tightly closed. “No… I mean… Something important.”
“Nothing important,” Jason choked out. He belatedly realized that there was a wetness on his cheeks. “I promise.”
“Okay. Can…” Tim gulped. Then, in the smallest voice, “I want Alfred.”
As much as Jason could relate, Tim asking for their grandfather-figure put a knife in Jason’s gut. Jason wasn’t enough for Tim right now. All he could do was hold Tim steady, making sure he didn’t hurt himself worse. Jason hadn’t grabbed any medical supplies on his way out of his window. He was too preoccupied with getting to Tim as fast as he could. But that had been foolish. Jason understood that now.
“He’s on his way.” Jason reassured. He gently threaded his fingers in Tim’s hair, confident that Tim wasn’t trying to move anymore. The kid was putty in his arms. Jason was sure that he’d slip off to sleep soon, and there was nothing that Jason could do to stop it.
Instead, Jason started humming the lullaby Dick used to calm Jason down once upon a time.
It wasn’t long after that that Alfred skid into the alleyway in the Batmobile. Jason wanted nothing more than to scoop Tim up in his arms and run over to meet him. He kept himself still by telling himself that he didn’t want to wake Tim up, not yet.
Alfred pulled the car to a stop as close to the boys as he could. Jason watched as he flew out of the drivers seat and went straight for the trunk. Alfred pulled the stretcher out and rushed over to them.
“Injuries?” Alfred asked, dropping the usual polite use of Jason’s name.
“Concussion, definitely,” Jason murmured. “Had to put his shoulder back into its socket. Ribs are hurt from being underneath the bike. Contusions and scrapes over everything. His left arm has the worst of it. I think he forced himself to pulled it out.”
“Underneath the bike, sir?” Alfred set the stretcher down next to them.
“Kid got hit. Found him crushed underneath that.” Jason nodded his head toward the mutilated bike a few feet away.
Alfred let out a deep, shuttering breath. “Let’s get him back to the cave prompt, then. When did he lose consciousness?”
“A few minutes before you got here. Was confused and slurring his words our whole conversation. He couldn’t remember what he had said, either, so he kept repeating himself.”
As gently as he could, Jason moved Tim down to lay flat on his back. The kid didn’t stir at the movement. Jason maneuvered Tim onto his side just enough that Alfred could slide the stretcher underneath him.
Only, when Jason moved Tim down flat again, he noticed something wet on the pavement. Jason zeroed in on the side of Tim that had been on the ground, seeing for the first time a patch of red that was slightly darker than the rest of his suit.
It covered the majority of the side.
Jason couldn’t help but let out a swear. He moved quickly, putting his hands down hard on Tim’s side. Jason didn’t know where the wound was, so he tried to cover the majority of where the blood had congregated. The kid groaned and shook his head, but didn’t do much other than that. Alfred moved back to the Batmobile, rushing to get the emergency medkit.
He kept pressure on the wound until Alfred returned.
Alfred slid down to a kneeling position, medkit already open, at Tim’s side. He dug into the bag to grab the special scissors that could cut through their uniforms. Jason waited until he had already started cutting to remove his hands from Tim’s side.
Blood started gushing even quicker once the kevlar that was inadvertently clotting the wounds were removed. Right on top of already present scar tissue was a large knife wound, surrounded by several other smaller cuts.
The kid had been pressed against Jason’s chest for ages, yet Jason hadn’t noticed. He had been so preoccupied with Tim’s concussed apologies that he hadn’t done an injury check. He had been worried about the blood, Jason remembered now, but he never did anything with that worry. Jason let himself get distracted.
He knew that Tim had been fleeing from something. That was the whole reason that Jason had given Tim the locations and codes to his bikes in the first place. It was stupid of him to forget that. No, it was selfish of Jason to get so caught up in his revulsion at Tim’s fear of him to forget that.
Jason leaned over and finally lost control of his stomach. As he gagged, he could hear Alfred administering the first aid that would last until they got to the cave.
“He’s stable?” Jason whispered. He didn’t mean to be so quiet. The silence that he and Alfred had been working in for so long was still suffocating him.
“He’s stable, Master Jason.” Alfred agreed. He took a few steps away from Tim and took off the medical gloves that were coated in Tim’s blood.
Jason released a large, grateful breath. He also moved away from the kid’s cot and removed his own gloves. He stripped the hastily put on scrubs as well. He made sure to ignore the red stains as he discarded them. They didn’t have nearly as much blood on them as Alfred’s; Jason had only been here as support.
But now that Tim was stable, there were other issues that Jason needed to attend to.
Jason stalked out of the medbay and headed straight for the Batcomputer. He sat down heavily in the chair and pulled up the communications center. It would be faster to do this here than grabbing his phone and using that.
He clicked into Barbara’s comm and pinged her with an emergency frequency. He didn’t care if he was going to wake her up. This was about Tim, and that was more important than sleep.
It would be a while until Tim woke up. Jason had time. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to start his work immediately.
“Hood?” Barbara’s voice echoed through the cave. “What’s wrong? Why’d you ping me this early?”
“Robin got ambushed tonight,” Jason started with. He took a breath. “Last night, whatever. He used one of my bikes to flee. But he…” The image of Tim trapped under that bike came into his mind unbidden. “He got hit by a car. I need to find out who did it.”
“Is he okay?” Barbara asked hurriedly.
“He’s stable. Agent A’s keeping him under for a while until the swelling in his brain goes down, but we’re hopeful that we’ll be able to wake him up tomorrow.”
“Holy…” Babs muttered. The keyboard clacking got more intense. “You need the security camera footage.”
“Yes,” Jason agreed. He started his own search on the Batcomputer to find the mask footage from the night. He wouldn’t be able to hit whoever had stabbed Tim right now, but he’d mark it for later and destroy them another night. “I already know I wont be able to find what I need with just the mask footage.”
“Where was he when you found him?” Barbara asked. “I have my camera systems up.”
Jason gave her the address of the alley. He found the mask footage that he wanted and made a digital bookmark. Jason started watching it as he waited for more information from Babs.
It was a rough fight to watch. Tim had started off strong, as he usually was, but halfway through he had his bo-staff taken from him. He had been surrounded when it was ripped from his hands, so he couldn’t immediately use the recall feature he had so cleverly demonstrated that first fight Tim and Jason had.
The kid had taken several blows to the ribs, which explained the heavy bruising on his torso. Jason clenched his teeth and tried to control his fury. Tim had manged to press the button on his wrist computer to recall his staff, but before it could return to him, a man with a knife approached.
Jason had to get up and start pacing in front of the computer. The energy pulsating under his skin wanted to find that man and beat him into the ground. He was seconds away from grabbing his live rounds and heading out.
But this wasn’t the guy that was Jason’s target for the night. He had to save that energy for the information that Babs would find for him. Goons had knives all the time. Sometimes they got lucky. It wasn’t common for a Bird to be hit with a car, though, so Jason knew what to prioritize.
Jason rewound and paused the video when Tim managed to get a good look the face of the guy who stabbed him. He grabbed a screenshot and saved it to a new file. That would be his next target to hunt down and…. punish for hurting Tim.
Anyone who touched Robin would have to face Red Hood’s wrath. The criminals didn’t understand that yet, but after Jason was done, they would.
“I got the license plate,” Barbara interrupted Jason’s search. “I need a bit more time to track where he went, though.”
“That’s alright,” Jason forced himself to say. It wouldn’t be fair to Babs to make her rush. She would find the asshole and tell Jason as soon as possible. Jason just needed to get a handle on his anger. “Take your time.”
“You seethed that,” Barbara commented idly. “I can’t tell if you mean it or not.”
“I’d like my fists to be in this guys face hours ago—” Ever since Jason found out that Tim hadn’t crashed the bike himself. He should have had more faith in the kid. “But I know these things take time. I would have asked you sooner, but…”
“Stabilizing Robin was the priority. I get it,” Jason let out a long breath at Babs’s words. At least it didn’t sound like she thought Jason was rushing her. “You find the guy who hurt him before that?”
“Yeah. Got his picture and was about to run facial recognition through the computer.” Jason sat back down in the chair. He wanted nothing more than to sink into it, but his shoulders were wound too tight.
“Do you want me to call Wing in from Blüd?”
Dick would be helpful, Jason had to admit. They could double team this operation, either going after each person together or splitting up the work. But that would mean that Jason would have to hold back. With Tim in a medically induced coma, Jason wasn’t feeling very merciful right now.
“No, that’s alright. I can handle them myself,” Jason let a cruel grin grow on his face, knowing there was no one around to see it. “I’m looking forward to meeting the one who hit Robin and crushed him under my bike.”
Babs was silent, both in voice and in keyboard sounds. “He was crushed under it?”
Jason made a confirming whistle. “Had to lift it off of him.”
“Don’t tell me when you’re going to find him,” Jason chuckled. That was Barbara’s way of saying ‘Do the worst thing you can’ while keeping deniability. “Give me ten minutes to track the guy. I’ll get everything on him.”
“That’s my girl.” Jason replied.
The keyboard sounds returned from Barbara’s end of the comm line. Jason scooted closer to his own keyboard again, beginning the search on the goon who managed to stab Robin.
While something like this had happened before, it still wasn’t an easy feat. Jason found the guy’s—Ronald Fitzhurbert—incarceration record quickly. Jason wasn’t surprised at the lengthy rap sheet. Only an experienced goon would have been able to land a hit like that. The computer already had some information on him, as the Bats had put him behind bars multiple times before.
Ronald was the kind of person that Jason wouldn’t have thought twice about killing. He could see himself putting a bullet in his chest in the blink of an eye. If Jason had come across him back in his early days of being the Red Hood, Ronald would be dead.
Unfortunately, Jason had ‘turned over a new leaf’ and had stopped killing people like that. Sure, he wasn’t completely clean. There were still scum that Jason took the liberty of putting out of commission. But Jason didn’t make a habit of doing that kind of thing in Gotham anymore, and never to someone that the Bat’s would know to look for.
Jason took several deep breaths. He added all the information that he’d found about Ronald into his new case file. Jason needed this guy alive, anyway. There were other ways to get the word out, but a messenger or two would always be the quickest.
Killing Ronald—and the guy who hit Tim—would feel incredibly satisfactory. Terrorizing them until they whispered their story in the bright light of a bar at noon would do much better. That would spread the story of Red Hood: Robin’s avenger.
“Found him,” Babs announced much quicker than Jason thought she would. “His name is Gerald Kreet. I’ll send his location over to you now.”
“Thank you, Oracle,” The tension in Jason’s shoulders relaxed. Having an aim for his anger was doing wonders for it. “I’ll owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing, Hood. Just make sure he can never hurt Robin again.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Jason opened the email that Barbara sent into his inbox. The cruel grin on his face grew in intensity. “I’ll take care of him.”