#and shes amazing

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sister1998:

“Tim,” Jason mutters, shock and sadness covering the name.
I wish your mother had been a little stronger.
I wish she stayed around a little longer.
“Run home to Mommy dearest.” Jason snaps, turning away. His head still ringing from the blow it took.
“Can’t do that.” Tim snarls from the ground where he is wrapping his calf to stop, or at least pause, the bleeding. “She gave up back in that jungle. Dad claims she said she had nothing to go on for. That it was too hard.”
Jason closes his eyes, breathing deeply to push the guilt down. He had meant Alfred, had forgotten that his actual mother was dead.
A humorless chuckle reaches his ears, “Guess love won’t help you overcome everything. Guess it wasn’t enough. Or maybe I wasn’t.”
“Don’t. You need to go.” Tim says. When his face tilts enough to become visible, Jason’s hurts at the dead expression on his face, at the heaviness that seems to have settled into his skin. Tim doesn’t move when Jason takes a single step closer. Tim’s pale skin is ashy grey, his body standing as if his bones are too heavy for him to hold up. Jason curses at everyone, at himself, at the world for ruining this young man.
I wish your dad was good!
Jason perches on the window ledge as he takes a long drag of his cigarette. He wants to leave, but between his broken wrist and Alfred he knows he won’t get far. Well, won’t get far in one piece. He smiles at the thought. He takes in the silence of the Manor’s grounds; the still air so different from the noise of the city. Which is why he glares at the open window that let’s the shrill of a phone break it.
“Hello?” Tim’s voice falls out of the window. Jason watches his shadow as Tim stretches. “Oh. Umm, I…just…just a second.”
Jason debates going back inside, but then Alfred will definitely smell the smoke and he just opened this pack. So he refocus on the conversation, leaning against the wood frame, and exhales smoke.
“Timothy, where are you?” A voice hisses. Tim must have put it on speaker Jason figures as the voice continues, “I look like an idiot when you don’t make it to the meetings. I can’t run this business alone.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Tim’s shadow moves around, a rustling noise accompanying his words. “I got in late from San Francisco and then Bruce—”
“Bruce is not your father.” The statement has Jason frowning. He is more of a father than you Jack, which is sad; Jason shakes his head at the thought. “He does not get final say.”
“Of course, I understand that. It’s just the case needed another set–” Tim rushes to say.
Again Jack cuts his son off. “Our agreement was that you could continue with…your extra activities as long as?”
“As long as I put the company’s needs first, listened to you, and didn’t talk about it.” Tim’s tone is flat, computer like. His shadow shrinks in on itself.
“Get home Timothy. I’m leaving in the morning and you need to be briefed.” The dial tone is the only goodbye Tim receives.
Jason ignores the sound of a fist smacking the wall as he sucks down the last puff. Instead he crawls back inside, shutting the glass tight. Thank God Willis was gone before he became that. Jay’s mind whispers. Jason pauses, thinking back to Tim. He huffs at himself before shooting Dick a text to check on baby bird.
Jason reaches out, cupping Tim’s cheek. “No, we need to leave Timmy.”
An emotion starts to break through Tim’s stoney face. His breathing stutters as he relaxes against Jay’s palm. “That’s not the plan.” He croaks, swallowing a sob. Jason moves slowly, projecting his every move. Bring his arm up to rest his hand on Tim’s waist, pulling the teen into his chest.
I wish grow-ups understood!
Bruce stands in the doorway, hulking figure taking up the whole thing. Jason pauses in his observation of the body. He meets the white eyes of the cowl, “Finders keepers B.”
“This is not your case, Hood. Get out.” The Bat growls at his second son. “Robin!”
Jason stands as Tim swipes into the room, their eyes meeting briefly. “B, my territory my case so either share or get the fuck out.” Jay steps closer to Bruce.
Bruce’s lips peel back, harsh words probably bubbling in his throat.
“I’ll forward the file to you after I updated it tonight Hood.” Tim speaks before a fight can break out.
Jason nods at him, stepping out of Bruce’s way. He squeezes Tim’s shoulder, “Thanks, Baby Bird. I’ll send back whatever I know or find out.”
Jason exits but pauses at Bruce’s tone.
“Robin, we do not work with criminals.”
“Red Hood is no longer consider that.” Robin replies. Tim’s words ease the sting of Bruce’s.
“Robin, you know very well that people do not just bounce back. Hood will not get the file.” The Batman growls.
The silence has Jason tensing and stepping back to the room.
“It’s like you don’t want him back. Everyone is trying, yet you won’t even stay in–”
“We have a case, Robin. Do not get off topic again. Hood will not get any information on this or any other cases from our computer. End of discussion.” Bruce must have turned or crouched because Jason can make out the cape dragging against the floor.
Jason leaves, rage on a tight lease. He breaks up a fight, tracks down some informs before heading home. He drops his guns on the table, turning on his computer to compile what he knows. Smirks at the file: malina, a paper copy. The note inside gets a chuckle.
He said no info from our computer. So this is from Babs’ and it’s a paper copy.
Send her any info you get.
R
“I have to do this. If I don’t–” Tim whimpers.
“No you don’t.” Jason says firmly. “Timmy, stop this.” Jason tightens his hold on the younger boy; finding the middle ground between a hug and a restainted. His cheek rests on top of ink black hair, a little greasy from days without a shower. Tim pushes Jason’s chest, yet grips the back of his shirt with another hand.
“If I stop, then we still have to fight. If I continue,” Tim rushes to explain, “I can stop other deaths. I can end so much pain.” His eyes have a feverish tint to them; lack of sleep leaving them pink and swollen.
I wish we had met before they convinced you life is war.
Jason had been told to look out for Robin, that he was not to be left alone if found, that after the two deaths… That Dick wanted him found. Climbing up to the top of the old church, Jason spots a flash of yellow against the stone gargoyle. “Robin.” Jason calls out in greeting. Only to see a mask-less face staring back. “Oh, baby bird.”
Tim hiccups, curling tighter into his cape. “Go.”
Jason debates: he could call Dick, tell him where Tim is, and be done or he could step forward.
He steps forward. “I’m just here for the view.” Jason shrugs as he settles against the cold stone. The bare face makes sense when he notices the tear streaks on Tim’s cheek; the mask’s paste must have been washed away by the constant tears. Jason had sat down close enough to barely brush his arm against Tim’s shoulder. The distance was there if Tim needed it, but small enough to close without issue.
“They are dead.” Tim whispers. “I keep waiting for Bart to rush by or–” he chokes “or Kon to swoop down. But they are dead. And they’re not coming back.”
Jason nods. Doing nothing when Tim’s weight settles onto his arm.
“I’m the only human and they’re the ones killed. The ones getting statues. I’m the human and they…” Tim swallows.
Jason shifts so that Tim can curl into his side. “I know baby bird. I’m sorry you lost your friends.”
“I lose everyone Jason.” Tim whispers into the dark.
“It’s part of the gig.” Jason has no words of comfort. At one point, he was the causality of this job.
“It’s part of war.” Tim breathes out.
Jason waits till Tim has drifted off into what can only be a restless sleep before calling Dick. He scoops Tim up and tightens his hold when it hits him this is what Bruce looked like carrying him.
“You will add to mine if you continue.” Jason confesses. “If you go through with this, Dick, Alfred, Babs, Cass, Cassie, me, hell even Bruce–”
“Everyone has someone Jason! I lost mine. I lost Kon and Bart and Stephanie. I lost Dad and Mom and—” Tim has become haggard; his chest rising slowly and falling quickly like it was too much to hold in oxygen.
“I don’t have anyone. Don’t go.” Jason bellows, shaking Tim ever so much. “Leave with me. Please, Tim.”
I wish you’d come with me.