#dcue

But there was nothing he could do about, and he was definitely not calling anyone over to help.

So, slowly he made his way off the bed. He had to lean against the wall so he wouldn’t fall over, but after some struggling he was able to make his way to the kitchen. He reached for a glass, but it slipped through his fingers and shattered when it hit the ground.

He cursed and bent to clean it up. Which, looking back, was a terrible idea. The dizziness overtook him and his legs gave out. He was able to catch himself with his hands so he didn’t faceplant. But now, apart from the dizziness, his hands stung from where the glass shards bit into his palms. 

He felt his eyes prickle with tears. He hated that he was so weak. He was Red Hood. He was Jason Todd. He stood up to the freakin’ Batman. A little sickness whouldn’t have this big of an effect. 

He moved into a seated position, leaning back against the cupboards. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply. He would be een more useless if he couldn’t pull himself together.

He had just gathered himself when he heard one of his windows open. Of course, now one of his nosy siblings chose to visit. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his body wasn’t cooperating.

“Jason?”

Of course, it was Dick. The Golden Boy, the perfect child. Jason bet sickness had never bested him. Only weak Jason Todd, street rat, was impaired by what was probably just a head cold. Jason shivered against the cabinets he was leaning against. No that was the Pit talking, or his self-esteem Whatever. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Jason was feeling like crap, and now his nosy brother was here and would probably send him to the Manor where he could be surrounded by nosy, judgmental siblings people.

“Jason?” Dick said again, this time peering into the kitchen.

“Shoot, what happened?” Dick’s face shifted to concern as he knelt by Jason. 

Jason couldn’t bring himself to look at his brother.

“It’s nothing.”

“But Jason, you’re hands.” Dick’s hands moved forward as if wanting to take hold of one of Jason’s hands, but he stopped. Jason wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. “Let me get your first aid kit.” Dick said and swiftly got up, heading to the bathroom which was where all their safehouses kept first aid kit. 

Jason waited with his eyes closed. He felt awful and he was shivering and sweating.

He opened his eyes again when he heard Dick enter the kitchen.

First, his brother swept up the glass then knelt by him and gently took one of his hands. Using a piar of tweezers he removed the bits of glass, before cleaning them with an antiseptic. Jason hissed at the sting.

“Shhh. It’s okay.” Dick said quietly.

When he had finished wrapping both of his hands in bandages, which was kind of excessive in Jason’s opinion, he packed away the kit.

Part of Jason hates being helpless and needing someone to take care of him, but a small part that he tries to shove down wants to lean into his brother, wants to close his eyes and know Dick will take care of him.

“Can you stand?”

Jason nods, and lets Dick help him to his feet and lead him to his room. Once he’s situated, Dick leaves and comes back with a glass of water.

Dick sits in the chair by his bed, and Jaons looks away.

“You can go now. Your job’s done.”

Dick just hums. “I think I’ll stay for a bit. I like spending time with my little brother.”

“Well you’ve got plenty of those. You can go help out your newest Robin.”

“Damian is fine at home. Right now, I want to help take care of you. I love you, Jason. You’re my little brother, and I’ll always care about you.”

Jason closes his eyes. It’s not fair. Dick isn’t allowed to say things like that when Jason is having trouble regulating his emotions. He wants what Dick says to be true so bad, but the Pit is always whispering that no one really cares about him. That everyone is just putting up with him and hoping he’ll just leave.