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(Whumptober No. 17: Hanging By a Threat_Breaking Point/Stress Positions/ Reluctant Caregiver )
A voice came crackling through his comm. “...ood! You there?” Jason knew that whiny voice anywhere. He was tempted to ignore the hail, but something muddied the usually calculated tone, piquing his curiosity.
“What do you want, Replacement?” He growled back, “I thought I told Batsy and crew to stop hacking my comms.” He expected a retort about why he even bothered to have comms then but was instead met with silence.
“Oh and now you’re not even gonna respond? Thanks for wasting my time, Replacement.” He was about to shut down his earpiece when what sounded like a pained groan broke through the static. As much as it irked him, worry jerked in his gut, “Replacement?” He was again met with nothing.
Finally, a response came. The connection should’ve been stable, but the words were still broken, “I think… I… need help.”
The feeling inside him shifted toward annoyance, masking his concern, “Awww? Does Baby Bird need a hand to hold?” he mocked before his tone grew harsher, “Get Daddy Dearest or one of the other Do-Gooders. I’m a crimelord, not a nanny.”
“Wait!” Tim’s words were edged in panic now and again made Jason pause. “Please,” Tim broke off his plea with a stuttering hiss, “You’re all I got.”
Jason growled in annoyance like the kid would have any idea what it was like to have no one. “Highly doubtful, Replacement. You’d better not be wasting my time.”
Jason didn’t ask, but Tim tensely relayed an address. “I’m 10 minutes away. Signing off now.”
----
Jason swung down onto an empty street in the Bowery. This was the address, but he didn’t see anyone. Red Robin or otherwise. “You gotta be fucking with me,” he muttered under his breath before tapping on his comms, “I’m here and I don’t see you. You got 30 seconds or I’m leaving. And the next time I do see you, I’m whooping your ass for wasting my time.”
Jason waited, looking around at the grimey storefronts. What was Red doing out here? And without any of the other Bats? He was just about to pull out his grapple and leave when he heard a clang from the alley behind him. He swung around, drawing and aiming his gun before lowering it. There was his Replacement, propped up against the wall and his bow staff and looking like absolute hell.
“The fuck, Replacement? What happened to you?” He didn’t get a response; the kid didn’t even acknowledge the older man’s presence. Annoyed, Hood stalked towards him, glaring. “What are you? Drunk?” And that’s when he saw it, the blood stain spreading from where Tim was clutching his stomach. “Shit. Replacement? What’s going on?” He’d reached Red Robin by now and placed a hand on his shoulder. The boy turned his face sluggishly to look at Hood, whimpering slightly before his legs buckled beneath him.
Jason only just caught Tim and began lowering him to the ground. He propped him in a sitting position against the wall and swore when Tim’s head keeled forward. “C’mon kid,” he muttered, then roughly patted Tim’s cheek repeatedly. He peeled off Tim’s mask, secret identities be damned. He needed to see all of Tim’s face and he could always shoot any trespassers.
The kid had always been pale, but now Jason could see the unnatural level of it from blood loss. He had bruises already forming along his jaw and probably his left orbital, though it was hard to tell thanks to the dark smudges of exhaustion under his eyes.
Tim’s hand slipped off his stomach and blood started spreading faster. Jason scrambled to lay Tim down and reapply pressure to the wound. “Dammit, Replacement, why’d you have to call me?” he cursed as he tried to stop the bleeding.
A large slashing wound sliced across his stomach, it was deep, but not near disembowelment level despite the curve of the wound implying that had been the intention. So his replacement was only mostly incompetent. He could dodge, just not fast enough.
Jason tried to keep pressure with one hand while he dug around the Red Robin utility belt, luckily the organization still almost exactly matched the setup from his Robin days. The Bats were nothing if not consistent.
He pulled out some gauze and bandages trying to slow the bleeding enough that he’d be able to move to the safe house he had nearby. He’d already accepted that he wouldn’t be able to do enough out here, so that safe house was his best bet even if it meant having to move Tim’s body.
Jason checked the rough bandages one last time, pulling them as tight as he could, before hefting Timbu his underarms. Tim groaned, but didn’t fully wake up.
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up. It’s for your own good.” Even though Tim was too out of it to hear, Jason couldn’t bring himself to break his brash facade. He couldn’t admit how worried he was, how much he apparently actually cared for the kid. He looked so small and young like this and it hit Jason how young he was. Then it hit him that Tim had been even younger when Jason had brutally bet him and tried to kill him.
He had to stop their progress to try to get his nausea and disgust under control. Red Hood is supposed to protect children, but he hadn’t protected this one. Resolving to do better this time around, he redoubled his efforts to save Tim.
They somehow made it the few short blocks to Jason’s nearest safe house. Maybe that was why Tim had called him. Nobody else had a safe house nearby as far as he was aware and, while it wouldn’t surprise him that Tim knew he had one, it would’ve surprised him if Tim had been able to make it there on his own.
Tim never full woke up on the way back to the safe house and he still hadn’t when Jason came back to where he’d dumped Tim on the couch from grabbing his first aid kit. He eyed the bloody bandage wrapping around the younger’s middle nervously. He didn’t know how long Tim had waited before calling for help, but even if he’d called soon after the attack, he’d have lost a concerning amount of blood.
He quickly washed his hands before setting about unwrapping the bandages. He then cut away more of the suit cringing sympathetically as he got a better view of the gash.
Jason was just beginning to disinfect the wound so he could suture it when Tim stirred. Groaning, Tim instinctively reached to clutch at his abdomen and Jason grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Cool it, Replacement, you’re gonna undo all my hard work cleaning up your mess.”
“No, I gotta—“ Tim groaned again, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “I gotta clean it.”
Jason scoffed, “Whaddya take me for? I know how to clean and stitch a wound. Now shut up and let me work before you bleed out.”
Jason had released Tim’s hand, but now Tim grabbed at Jason’s. “No. I don-don’t have a spleen. I gotta clean it.”
Jason froze then. “The fuck did you just say?” He knew he wasn’t exactly in the loop on everything in the Bats’ lives, but he thought he would’ve known about something as major as one of them losing their spleen.
Tim groaned again and opened his eyes for the first time, eyes burning with surprising intensity despite their glazed quality. “I lost my spleen, please.”
Jason yanked his hand back. “Okay, I got it. I’ll be thorough, but you gotta let me work, or you’re gonna bleed out long before you have to worry about any infection,” it sounded too much like caring and Jason cringed, “I don’t want all my effort to be for nothing.This is a enough of a waste of my time without you dying.”
Tim slumped back, but whether it was because Jason’s answer satisfied him or because he didn’t have the strength to prop himself up anymore, Jason didn’t know.
Jason really did take extra time and care with cleaning and disinfecting the wound and in making sure everything was as sterile as it could be. He told himself he didn’t care, but the nagging worry that it wasn’t enough remained.
Tim didn’t stir even after Jason had finished treating the wound to the best of his abilities.
As much as he hated that he’d cut his patrol short, Jason knew he’d never be able to bring himself to leave the kid alone like this. So he reluctantly resigned himself to the position of caregiver and settled at the counter to do some research.
He’d known that spleens helped fight infections, but didn’t know many details beyond that. He’d never had reason to before now. Apparently, splenectomy patients were generally on low-dose antibiotics for the rest of their lives and were encouraged to keep antibiotics on their person at all times in case of injury. He learned a few other things, but that seemed to be the most vital information.
He walked over to Tim and tried to rouse him. “Tim.” He placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder as he said it and Tim flinched suddenly awake, crying out as the jolt agitated the sound. His eyes flickered rapidly around the room before settling on Jason. The fear didn’t immediately disappear when they did though, and, as Jason watched, he saw Tim put up a front of calm instead of his fear truly dissipating.
Maybe he was just reading into it, maybe it was nothing. It didn’t stop the lump in his throat from forming and he had to clear his throat before stuttering out an answer for Tim’s now questioning stare. “Do-do you have antibiotics on you?”
Tim’s expression morphed into one of confusion before he nodded slowly. “Good,” Jason said groughly, “I’ll grab you a Gatorade then. And some painkillers if you want them?” Tim once again nodded slowly and Jason walked off to procure the drink and drugs.
He was only gone for a few minutes, but Tim had already fallen back asleep when he got back. As much as he hated to do it, Tim needed to get some fluids in him to help replace the blood he lost, and he really needed to take his antibiotics.
He tried to be more careful with waking Tim this time around, but was met with the same startled reaction as before. After settling down, Tim wordlessly accepted the Gatorade and painkillers before pulling some pills of his own out of his utility belt and downing both pills with a sip of his drink.
He looked about ready to pass out again so Jason said, “Finish that, then you can get some sleep.” Tim nodded tiredly and continued slowly drinking the Gatorade. Jason stood there awkwardly for a few more minutes before asking, “Can I get you anything else? Food maybe?”
Tim cringed at the thought then mumbled, “I’m okay. Thanks.”
They slipped back into tense silence. Jason fiddled around a bit before declaring that he was gonna quickly get changed and shower. Tim offered a quiet acknowledgment, not making eye contact.
It took Jason less than 10 minutes before he was walking back into the living room, hair still dripping and now clad in sweats and a T-shirt. Despite his sore muscles begging him to stay in the hot shower for longer, he couldn’t help but worry that something would happen if he took too long, so he’d forced himself to only stay in long enough to wash off Gotham’s stench before shutting off the water and heading back out.
When he came back into the room, he was met with the sight of Tim staring blankly at the wall. Jason cleared his throat, and, maybe it was just his imagination, but he could’ve sworn that Tim didn’t jump until he saw it was Jason who’d made the sound.
“You good?” Jason asked. Tim swallowed and nodded tensely. His gaze flickering between Jason and something else. “How convincing,” Jason said dryly. He began walking closer and Tim panicked minutely before trying to hide it.
The kid’s skittishness was really beginning piss Jason off, “Do I scare you or something, Replacement?” He crossed his arms and glared.
Tim stared at him, fear cracking through his schooled expression. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He tried again, swallowing nervously before the quietest whisper of, “Yes,” came out.
Jason balked slightly. He hadn’t actually been expecting a confirmation. Sure, he’d tried to kill the kid, but that was years ago, and you don’t call for help from someone you’re afraid of. Especially when you have a family of vigilantes on your side.
“You’re pathetic,” he growled and Tim had the audacity to look shocked. “So what’s your play here? You’re scared of me but you need my help? You tryna avoid Bruce’s lecture, tryna take advantage of me?”
Tim’s expression flickered. He sighed heavily. “No, I told you. You were my only option.”
“Oh please,” Jason snapped, “Don’t play martyr here. Don’t act like you’re the one who’s lost his family. You’re the one who replaced me.”
Tim looked at him briefly, something inexplicably sad and resigned in his expression. “I was only ever a placeholder; I knew that from the beginning,” he said softly, “Batman needed a Robin, but you were gone.” He glanced back at Jason. “Now he has a new Robin. They’ve made it clear they don’t need me anymore.” There wasn’t any bitterness or anger as he said it, it was like he was stating simple fact. 2+2=4, the sun rises in the east, and Tim wasn’t wanted.
Jason scoffed. “Daddy dearest try to bench you or something? You get in a fight about your bedtime? Or are you mad you’re not Dickie’s favorite anymore?”
Tim expression hardened, Jason had clearly struck a nerve even if Tim was trying not show it. “I’m not Bruce’s kid. I’ve got the legal documents to prove it. And no, he’s not trying to bench me, that’d be pretty hard to do considering I haven’t talked to him in months. I haven’t talked to Dick in even longer, not since he threatened to throw me in Arkham for daring to suggest Bruce was alive.” Tim glared at Jason, “So no. I’m not trying to be dramatic, I’m not trying to steal your wounded wolf image. I kinda just felt like not dying right then and you were my only option.”
Jason just stared, shocked at the information just dumped in him. Tim sighed, the fight bleeding out of him. “Can I please just go to sleep? I’ll leave in the morning and I’ll pay you for your troubles, but I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” All Jason could do was nod dumbly before backtracking out of the room, turning off the lights as he did.
He stood in the darkened hallway, listening as Tim settled in, trying to figure out how he’d gotten so much wrong.