BE ALL OF THEM

but how am i supposed to look like a cool person

tim drake: It's the only thing I'm good at, Stephie-Boo, fuck off.

                    had they been under different circumstances, jason would have fired back a smart retort, to perhaps gloat that they were JUST bullets and he’d play the ‘but did i die?’ card. now? he was too busy worrying about the agonizing pain to think of one. the adrenaline had finally worn off, as with his witty tongue and dark humour. the wounds felt like a thousand bee stings all at once ( not that he had, of course, been stung by a thousand bees ), prickling deep into his body and threatening to pierce his internal organs if he weren’t careful. while making an idle note to wear kevlar next time, there was a dim memory from years ago reminding him that his father had been in this exact same position, and he’d always been more observant than he’d actually made himself out to be.

                   he remembered the disgrace of a dad stagger in one day, hauled by three other men as they worked at taking out the bullet in his back. and now he’d come full circle, the uncomfortable feeling of deja vu settling into the pit of his gut. he didn’t have long to dwell about it, however – the bullet was extricated with a sharp exhale from jason, who shuddered with the effort of holding back a yell as he clamped his mouth shut. “two more… in the back. wouldn’t want … to be caught with your scrawny nagging ass … any more than necessary.” it might have been a promise, or it could have been assurance, but in his current condition? he just wanted the bullets OUT and sleep IN.

tim would have been more worried about the sudden lull in their conversation had it not been because he knew exactly the kind of pain jason was and how much even talking hurt. what did worry him was the faraway look on his face when he finally looked up, and he  couldn’t help but wonder what was occupying his mind in that moment that could get jason quiet like that. suturing didn’t take too long, he managed to keep his hands steady enough so that the stitches wouldn’t leave a horrible scar. though considering how many scars jason already had, that was relative. not that would ever say that OUT LOUD; the older robin was touchy about the subject, and despite unpopular belief, tim did like being in good terms with all of his brothers, not just dick.

“Alright,” Jason nods, biting his bottom lip as he thinks for a moment. “Alright,” he repeats, “this way.” He leads Tim through a veritable maze of unused corridors and secret passages through Nanda Parbat, but eventually the bright desert sun shines over them as Jason leads Tim into the hanger. “Here,” he murmurs, gesturing Tim towards a nearby charter plane. It’s small and really only supposed to hold two or three people, but it’s fully fueled and has a perfect shot down the runway. “You can fly a plane, right? Go on, I’ll try to keep everyone from chasing you as long as I can.”

the sight of the small airplane brings a smile to tim’s lips -- a genuine wide smile that shows his teeth -- the mixture between laughter and a relieved sigh escaping his lungs. not that he was losing hope of ever leaving nanda parbat, but a part of him was starting to wonder if he’d ever make it back to gotham. or if he’d make it out alive. the possibility of seeing dick, alfred, and cass again seems so much more plausible now. dammit, he might even be excited to see that little asshole, damian, too. he doesn’t cry, but there a slight sting in his eyes. 

Jason shrugs amicably. That’s fair enough. He’s not going to bother arguing with Tim, because he most certainly does need a babysitter and Jason’s the best he’s going to get. But, he’ll keep himself within Tim’s line of sight, let him keep track of his movements. It’ll probably help keep Tim calmer, since Jason knows that the stalker still gets twitchy around him. It’s been years since he last tried to kill him, what’s a little attempted murder between Robins? (It’s a lot, he knows that. He still feels as guilty about it as Tim feels wary.)

it’s not quite what tim wanted (frankly, he wants jason several miles away. out of gotham preferably), but it’s something. and tim is more used to compromise now than he once was. although... it’s weird having someone trailing behind him like this, so quietly. he’s never been deadly silent like bruce, of course, but his usual companions tend to be quite the chatterboxes.

     “Depressing demeanor try-outs, I’m hoping to make the team this year, coach!” The irony of her cheery disposition about it is not lost on her. Seriously though, what a hard case. She thought Robin was supposed to be the cheery part of the Dynamic Duo.

     “Seriously, holy paranoia Batman! Chill out, featherhead. Spidey needed somebody to make a run out of town and I had free time.”

if this was her response to him, then he wished her good luck running into one of the batmen. or better yet: robin. that kid redefined broodiness. though with his parents, who could blame him.

he didn’t fight it, he let her grab him without even knowing what she was planning, only realizing what was happening when the tiny chocolate drop was being passed down into his mouth. had it been anyone else -- any other couple even -- he would’ve turn his nose at them. but since it was steph, well he couldn’t stop the silly grin.

“a whole bag, huh?” happy valentine’s to him !