‘i’ll make you something, yeah? your favorite dish, just for you.’

‘let’s get you back to bed.’

‘shh, it was just a nightmare.’

‘you like this, don’t you? i remember you saying that.’

‘i drew up a bath for you.’

‘you need rest.’

‘you ought to be asleep.’

‘i bought two.’

‘here. you can have the rest.’

‘i thought of you when i saw this.’

‘i like your smile.’

‘you have a cute laugh.’

‘stay there. i’m coming there to get you.’

‘it’s okay, i’m here, we’re okay.’

‘be careful.’

‘look both ways.’

‘you mean so much to me.’

‘i can’t lose you.’

‘i thought i might have lost you.’

‘how to you feel about the nickname, (insert nickname)?’

‘it looks good on you.’

‘i’ll make you soup.’

‘ah-ah-ah. you’re sick. you need to stay in bed.’

‘are you okay in there?’

‘that’s it, that’s it. get it all out. shh.’

‘it’s a remedy i knew. helps with your throat.’

‘it’s a lullaby. would you like me to sing it to you? would that help you fall asleep?’

‘i’m worried about you.’

‘what do you want to watch?’

‘where would you like to go for dinner?’

‘close your eyes and hold out your hands.’

‘we’ll figure it out.’

‘oh, it’s not big deal. you’re fine.’

‘i brought you some medicine for your cold.’

‘you’re important to me.’

‘this is your favorite song, right?’

‘you’re like a son/daughter to me.’

‘good luck!’

‘you’re like a mom/dad to me.’

‘don’t say that about yourself.’

‘want to come with?’

“wow! you look really nice.’

‘goodnight, (insert term of affection).’

‘it’s okay. i couldn’t sleep anyway.’

‘you can have half.’

‘come here. let me fix it.’

‘your tie is crooked.’

‘c’mere. shh, it’s okay.’

‘i’m not going to hurt you.’

‘can i touch you?’

‘can i kiss you?’

‘can i hug you?’

‘promise.’

‘would i ever lie to you?’

‘i think you’re very beautiful/handsome.’

‘hey, good-looking.’

‘of course i care. you’re my family.’

‘one more chapter.’

“Jesus…” The man sighed, putting his gun back down on the table. “Ya almost gave fuckin’ heart attack.” he groaned, running a hand over his face. He must have forgotten to lock his front door, which didn’t happen often with this immensely paranoid man., but sleep deprivation had a way of making him forgetful. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s no biggie, I guess. My damn fault for leavin’ the door open.”

Ian nodded a bit, slowly letting his hands fall to his sides, not too convinced that the danger had passed. He eyed the gun for a moment, before rubbing the back of his neck, scrunching up his nose a bit. “How far are we from Asher Street?” He peeked out the front window, trying to make sense of his location – but honestly, in his inebriated state, everything looked the same. Hence his current predicament.

‘ are you bleeding? ’

‘ take it easy. you hit your head. ’

‘ where does it hurt? ’ 

‘ sit still and let me take a look! ’

‘ how did you get that black eye? ’ 

‘ you should see the other guy. ’ 

‘ did i say you could get out of bed? ’

‘ that’s going to leave a bruise. ’

‘ i’ll get some ice. ’ 

‘ that’s what you get for picking fights. ’

‘ are you trying to give me a heart attack? ’

‘ what’s wrong with you? ’

‘ you can barely stand. ’

‘ did you throw the first punch? ’

‘ that’s a nasty bump. ’

‘ get in the car. you’re going to the hospital. ’

‘ at least bandage it. ’ 

‘ no, you’ll get an infection. ’ 

‘ wet floor signs are there for a reason, you know. ’

‘ you’re lucky. that icicle could’ve killed you. ’

‘ where’s your gratitude? i rescued you! ’

‘ i’m calling the nurse. ’

‘ was that stupid dare worth it? ’

‘ what happened to you? ’

‘ sit down. i’ll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up. ’

‘ are those bandages? ’

‘ you need stitches. ’

‘ look out for that tree branch. ’

‘ i’ve got you. just stay awake. can you do that for me? ’

‘ lean on me. ’

‘ you got two choices: let me carry you, or die out here. take your pick. ’

‘ shit, you’re burning up. ’  

‘ you’re not dying. it’s only a sprained ankle. ’

‘ lie down. ’

‘ i’m sorry. i know it hurts. here, hold my hand. ’

‘ you’re in no condition to be walking around. ’

‘ wake up! wake up! ’

‘ i don’t feel sorry for you. ’

The doorbell had been a saving grace, it’s shrilling buzzing cutting through the inane boredom that had settled into Tims skull as he lay haphazardly on the couch, sucker sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“I got it!” He called out, forcing himself to his feet with a groan as he began to make his way to the door, brow furrowed in thought. It wasn’t as though they were expecting anyone- no one who would use the bell anyhow.

“Can I help you-“ He questioned as he swung the door open, the good natured smile on his lips immediately falling as he spotted the car seat with the dark haired infant inside, looking around with wild, panicked eyes.

A baby. Who the hell left a baby on their doorstep? Was it Bruce’s?

Tim frowned, gently picking up the boy and cradling him to his chest as he grabbed the car seat and took him inside, sighing softly. “Well- I guess we have to figure out who you are, huh?” He murmured, moving back to the couch. There had to be a note or something.

Undoubtedly one of Bruce’s one night stands gone wrong.

“Shhh… shhh It’s alright.” He soothed the infant softly as he rummaged, finally finding a note in the carrier and opening it.

Just to pale.

Well, shit.

He was snapped out of his trance by sudden appearance in the room; had he really been so distracted he hadn’t heard him coming? Usually he was far more vigilant than that, he inwardly scolded. Big blue eyes looked up at the elder, shell shocked, fear that was normally absent in even the worst situations now gleaming. Tim was rarely the type to be taken off guard. He had failsafes and contingencies for almost every situation.

But this?

This was beyond even his planning. Even still, he adjusted his hold on the boy- Terry, he reminded himself- as Jason showed, blue eyes flickering away for a moment, voice hoarse.

He would figure this all out.

Tim let Jason hold his son; his barely two month old son, if the note was to be believed, forcing himself to his feet and following behind, easily switching into breathing exercises. Focusing on logic, even as he glanced at the infant with hair as dark as his own and the same crystalline eyes.

“No denying he’s mine…” he muttered softly as he shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing up at his brother. “I’m dead, Jaybird. Bruce is going to kill me. He’s going to kill me and bury me in your old grave, and probably raise Terry as Robin.” He mumbled, speech quick with his anxiety as he stopped,, curled fingers into his brothers shirt, rested his forehead to his back.

Who wouldn’t be in that situation?

“Look Timbo...” he started, trying to find the gentlest but still most honest way to put this. With a sigh, he wrapped his other arm around his brother, holding him in a tight hug. “It’s a hundred percent logical for you to be scared right now. And yea, Bruce is gonna be royally pissed, but that ain’t gonna change the situation.” The elder bites his tongue for a moment, wondering how he was actually going to say what he was thinking right now without choking on his own words... “Bruce will understand that and, as always, he’ll try to do what he thinks is right.” Jason and Bruce would always have their disagreements, but the man had to admit that at least that much was true of his adoptive father. He always tried to do the right thing.

The doorbell had been a saving grace, it’s shrilling buzzing cutting through the inane boredom that had settled into Tims skull as he lay haphazardly on the couch, sucker sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“I got it!” He called out, forcing himself to his feet with a groan as he began to make his way to the door, brow furrowed in thought. It wasn’t as though they were expecting anyone- no one who would use the bell anyhow.

“Can I help you-“ He questioned as he swung the door open, the good natured smile on his lips immediately falling as he spotted the car seat with the dark haired infant inside, looking around with wild, panicked eyes.

A baby. Who the hell left a baby on their doorstep? Was it Bruce’s?

Tim frowned, gently picking up the boy and cradling him to his chest as he grabbed the car seat and took him inside, sighing softly. “Well- I guess we have to figure out who you are, huh?” He murmured, moving back to the couch. There had to be a note or something.

Undoubtedly one of Bruce’s one night stands gone wrong.

“Shhh… shhh It’s alright.” He soothed the infant softly as he rummaged, finally finding a note in the carrier and opening it.

Just to pale.

Well, shit.

He was snapped out of his trance by sudden appearance in the room; had he really been so distracted he hadn’t heard him coming? Usually he was far more vigilant than that, he inwardly scolded. Big blue eyes looked up at the elder, shell shocked, fear that was normally absent in even the worst situations now gleaming. Tim was rarely the type to be taken off guard. He had failsafes and contingencies for almost every situation.

But this?

This was beyond even his planning. Even still, he adjusted his hold on the boy- Terry, he reminded himself- as Jason showed, blue eyes flickering away for a moment, voice hoarse.

The doorbell had been a saving grace, it’s shrilling buzzing cutting through the inane boredom that had settled into Tims skull as he lay haphazardly on the couch, sucker sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“I got it!” He called out, forcing himself to his feet with a groan as he began to make his way to the door, brow furrowed in thought. It wasn’t as though they were expecting anyone- no one who would use the bell anyhow.

“Can I help you-“ He questioned as he swung the door open, the good natured smile on his lips immediately falling as he spotted the car seat with the dark haired infant inside, looking around with wild, panicked eyes.

A baby. Who the hell left a baby on their doorstep? Was it Bruce’s?

Tim frowned, gently picking up the boy and cradling him to his chest as he grabbed the car seat and took him inside, sighing softly. “Well- I guess we have to figure out who you are, huh?” He murmured, moving back to the couch. There had to be a note or something.

Undoubtedly one of Bruce’s one night stands gone wrong.

“Shhh… shhh It’s alright.” He soothed the infant softly as he rummaged, finally finding a note in the carrier and opening it.

Just to pale.

Well, shit.

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