#CASS YOU DID IT WRONG!! YOURE SUPPOSED TO SHH THEM AS THEY SLOWLY FALL UNCONSCIOUS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loxare · 7 years

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Yesterday was just another day

Written for @redrobin-detective‘s birthday! I’m sorry it got so angsty, I need to learn how to write fluff... Happy birthday friend!!

“Are you doing alright Batman?”

Tim watched as Dick hoisted himself into a sitting position until he was leaning against some of the rubble behind him. “Yeah. I think so. My leg might be broken though. How about you? Any injuries?”

Cracked ribs, severe bruising to his right shoulder, possible concussion. “Nothing major. Here, give me your arm.” Tim scooted under Dick's arm, using it to help lever Dick to his feet, being very careful not to hit his shoulder. Luckily, the bruise was closer to his upper arm than his neck. “Let's get you out of here.” Who knew when the enchantments on the building would wear off?

They walked through the ruined corridors in silence for a few minutes, Dick hopping on one leg, Tim supporting him as best as he could. Which wasn't a lot, considering the height difference. “Thanks Red.” The words were quiet. Tim looked up at Dick, noting the softness in the one eye visible under the broken cowl, the smile that had no place on Batman's face. “Saved my life.”

“I didn't do much. If I could have stopped the bomb-”

“You did plenty.” Dick cut him off, then groaned, using his free hand to clutch at his side. He waved off Tim's concern. “I'm fine. Just a bruise probably. I'm not sure how you think you could have stopped the bomb though. You had what, a minute?”

A minute, to stop the bomb or at least reduce the damage. So he'd thrown the bomb into the pit that the cultists had dug for whatever reason. Instead of taking out the ten blocks surrounding the condemned apartment building they were now making their way through, it had taken out the foundations. He'd dropped most of an apartment building on their heads, and it was pure luck they weren't dead.

Dick patted Tim on the chest with the arm he had slung around his neck. “You did fine. Better than fine really. So thanks Red.”

“I...” Tim faltered. He could have done better. If he'd gotten through the cultists faster, he would have had more time to disarm the bomb. But he also knew Dick wouldn't drop it. “You're welcome.”

Dick nodded, satisfied. They kept walking through corridors that Tim was sure were only still standing because the cultists had enchanted them. The building was supposed to have survived the explosion. As they walked, they passed the unconscious bodies of said cultists. Dick muttered something about calling Superman when they had access to a radio, which made sense. Superman could rescue these idiots without having to worry about when the enchantment on the building wore off.

It took longer than Tim would have liked, but eventually, the two of them found an exit not blocked off by a million pounds of building on the other side of the door. Of course, they still had to scale a pile of rubble once outside.

They had just started climbing down the other side when Tim's vision went black and fuzzy. He swayed, his grip on Dick the only thing keeping him upright. “Tim?”

Tim shook his head until the fuzziness cleared. “I'm fine.” And then his legs buckled beneath him. He dropped Dick so he wouldn't pull him down with him, trying and failing to keep himself from rolling down the rubble. Shards of glass cut through his suit on the way down. Eventually, a vertical piece of rebar stopped him, slamming into his stomach and knocking his breath away. He tried to push himself up, but the world was spinning and he couldn't figure out where up was.

Suddenly his cowl was yanked back, the cool breeze wonderful on his sweaty skin. “Damn pretender. That's one heck of a head injury you've got.” The words sounded weird, like he was hearing them through a filter. “Red Hood to Oracle, found them.” A hand ran through Tim's hair, brushing the strands away from his forehead.

Through the corner of his eye, Tim could see Dick carefully slide down the rubble. “Hood? What are you doing here?”

“Saving your butts apparently. You're welcome.” Something landed on Tim's chest. “Here. Oracle is tracking that. Someone will be here in a few minutes for pickup.”

The last things Tim saw as the darkness closed in on the sides of his vision was a red dot slowly walking away and Dick's worried face taking up his field of view.

When he woke up, everything hurt. Which made sense; painkillers didn't mix well with concussions. He was in the Batbunker's medbay, based on the sadly familiar ceiling, and Damian was standing next to him. The kid was glaring, as usual, but there was something wrong with the expression. Tim glared back. “What?”

Damian jumped a bit, even though he had watched Tim wake up. “You... did good work today Drake. I'm not sure I could have done better.” Then he fled, calling for Dick before Tim could make his brain work enough to think of a reply.

Dick walked in and sat next to Tim, setting his crutches beside him. He had taken off the Batsuit and was dressed in sweats and a tank top. “You scared the crap out of me Tim.”

“Sorry,” Tim said it quickly. Maybe he could get Dick to drop it. “How's the case? Did Superman get the cultists out?”

“Yeah. Two of them died in the collapse, half a dozen are in surgery. Which,” Dick leaned forward and rapped Tim between the eyebrows, eyebrows which had been inching closer together, “is a lot better than the hundreds of innocents who would be dead. So don't do that blaming yourself thing. We get enough of that from Bruce.” Dick ruffled Tim's hair, avoiding the bandage wrapped around his head, then sat back. He sat there for a moment, staring at Tim with his detective face on. “Why didn't you tell me you were injured?”

Later, Tim would blame it on the headache. “There were more important things to do. Like getting you out.”

“You're important Tim!” Dick's hand came down on the table beside Tim's bed, the glass of water on it clattering loudly.

“So is Batman.” Tim glared at Dick, trying to push himself up. He didn't even get halfway to sitting when his elbow gave out. “You saw what happened when Bruce went missing. The city was chaos. Having you die in a building collapse, with a confirmed corpse, would destroy it.”

“The building is still up Tim. We had plenty of time-”

“Which we didn't know at the time. What were you going to do, carry me out? On your broken leg?” Tim gave up on sitting. He sank deeper into his pillows and tried to wipe the frustration off of his face. “We're both fine now. So drop it.”

“Fine. I'll drop this. But let me ask you one thing.” Dick's muscles were tight, his jaw clenched. “Did you really know I would catch you? Because I didn't. I saw you falling from that window and I didn't think I would make it on time. But you looked content. Can you imagine how that felt? It was terrifying.” His hand shot forward, grabbing Tim by the wrist. “Tim, I can't lose you too.”

Tim tugged his wrist out of Dick's hand, resting his fingers on top of it instead. “You'd be fine. You have Damian.”

“He's not you Tim.” Dick flipped his hand so he could hold Tim's. “I shouldn't have taken Robin without asking, and I'm sorry. But you taking Robin didn't replace Jason in Bruce's heart, and Damian being Robin won't replace you in mine. You're my brother Tim, and I love you. And I'm going to do all I can to show you that.” He started running his free hand through Tim's hair again. “I wish you could see how much you mean to me. To Alfred and the girls, and all your friends in the Titans.

“Of course I know.” Tim had no illusions. His work was invaluable to lots of people. Wayne Enterprises was still largely run by Lucius, but Lucius was starting to defer more and more decisions to Tim as he gained more experience. And while the Teen Titans were getting on fine without him, every time he helped them with a case, they were very grateful.

As if reading his thoughts, Dick said, “And not just as Robin, or Red Robin. You did and still do fantastic work, and honestly, I don't think we would have gotten as far as we have without you. But I love you because you're smart, and funny, and because you sleep in class, and you wear Brioni even though you'd rather wear those punk rock shirts, because you can't cook anything more complicated than soup. Because you're Tim.”

Tim's throat was feeling strangely tight, and it was getting difficult to breathe. He didn't think he could blame it on the wrappings on his ribs. “I...”

“Shh. Get some rest Tim. I'll be here when you wake up.” Dick smiled at him, one hand wrapped around Tim's, the other still carding through his hair.

When Tim woke up again, Dick was still there, in the bed opposite. Alfred came in with fresh bandages and filling snacks. The next day, when Alfred allowed him out of bed (“But no patrol for a week Master Tim. I mean it.”) Steph and Cass showed up at his apartment and they played racing games for four hours. Kon showed up at his window halfway through with a bunch of vegetables from the farm (“Ma says that farm fresh veggies are better for your health”) and proceeded to get owned by Steph when he tried playing.

Tim ended up falling asleep on Kon's shoulder with Steph on his other side and Cass laying across all their laps. And for the first time in a long time, he felt... good.

#Tim Drake #Red Robin #Dick Grayson #Batman #Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Cass Cain #Steph Brown #Kon El #Loxie's Fics

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