Dawn was fiddling with his new IV drip, the needle pierced through the skin on the underside of his forearm pumping what Dick knew to be fentanyl through his veins. He wasn't entirely looking forward to the drug kicking in since fentanyl tended to leave him drowsy and oddly cold but he was definitely counting on the relief from the pain his injuries brought. His eyes lazily slide up to where Jason leans against the doorway, his arms crossed and face set in a dark scowl. He's focused on the downwards pull of the boy's lips, the flashes of emotion that flicker in his usually bright eyes, and Dick feels a wave of guilt pull him under. He remembers again that Rachel said Jason cried, over him no less, and he finds himself determined to make it right.

He jolts when Dawn turns and rests a gentle hand on his bare shoulder, her fingers warm against his sweat-dampened skin. She gives him a stern look, "Don't leave. At least until that bag," She nods to the bag hanging on his IV drip, waiting until his eyes followed her gaze before speaking again, "Is empty. You understand me?" It was phrased as a question but Dick knew a demand when he heard it.

He conceded easily, nodding an affirmation as he lets out a soft hum. With such a direct injection into his body he could already feel the fentanyl starting to work bringing on the drowsiness with it. Dawn must see it because she couldn't him back against the inclined back of the medical bed and makes for the doorway. She tries to lay a comforting hand on Jason's shoulder as she passes, maybe offer a reassuring squeeze, but Jason violently shrugs her off and turns his head away. Dawn doesn't try again, accepting Jason's mood for what it was, and disappearing down the hall back in the direction of the gym where they'd left Gar and Rachel.

For a long time only silence hangs in the room. Dick isn't hooked up to an EKG, he insisted it wasn't necessary and Dawn caved when he wouldn't let her clip her finger. It was childish, he admits, but the heart monitor would be far too much of a giveaway to any distress he felt while talking to Jason. The kid didn't need that. Besides, he wasn't going to go into critical condition anytime soon so it really was unnecessary. Now, with the insistent beep of his heart rate there's only quiet.

Dick thinks it'll be better if Jason reaches out to him. If Jason starts something nothing he says will be influenced by something Dick said. He wants Jason to open up to him on his own, reach out because he wants to not because Dick sat him down and forced something out of him. He realizes that there's an unspoken time limit now, from past mistakes of waiting too long for someone to come to him, so he settles on reaching out to Jason if the boy decides not to talk to him now. This is Jason's opening and Dick sincerely hopes he takes it.

Jason shuffles his feet, glaring daggers at the linoleum tiles of the recovery room. Dick knows that normally he'd be able to wait patiently, watching Jason as he tries to work through and process whatever was going on his head, but right now he's becoming increasingly more tired by the second and finds himself eagerly waiting for Jason to speak up.

"You're a fucking moron, Grayson." He finally snaps, fingers tightening on his biceps as he looks up to glare at Dick through messy curls and thick eyelashes. Dick figures that's as good a start as any.

"Enlighten me." He urges, relaxes entirely into the raised backing of the infirmary cot. Laying down made him feel too vulnerable, too exposed, and he doesn't think laying tired, pale, and bruised would help with Jason's frayed nerves.

Jason takes that as an invitation, pushing off the door frame and storming forward like he was in civilian clothes on the streets and not clad in only the bottom half of his Robin suit in the Medbay. "I don't know why you think we'll find you unworthy or whatever dumb shit but you could have gotten yourself killed. You realize that, right?" The teen sneers, the dark eyes flashing with a fury and passion that Dick had worried he'd never see again. He's okay if it's directed at him, as long as it's still there that's all that matters. "Where would that leave all of us? Oh, boohoo, I didn't want to worry you guys, I was embarrassed," He whines mockingly, turning on his heel and throwing his hands up into the air. "We'd be so far beyond worried if you fucking died!"

"Aw, you do care." Dick joking coos before he can reel it back in, the fentanyl screwing with his usually made-of-steel brain-to-mouth filter.

"This isn't a joke!" Jason shrieks, whirling around back to face him with fist clenched, white-knuckled, at his sides. There are tears in his eyes, rimming narrowed eyes and blurring gunmetal irises.

Dick is shocked for a second. Honestly struggling for words as he takes in Jason's angry expression and devastated eyes. Jason's eyes always seem to tell a different story, ever since he said those things about being poison on the Tower roof a year go Dick felt like there was always a secret hiding there. He missed the mark this time, messed up without even meaning to, but he's still selfishly glad that he could dig the truth up out of Jason before it boiled over and the new Robin did something terrible.

"You're right," Dick starts slowly, testing the waters and scanning Jason for any sort of dramatic change. "It's not a joke. I'm sorry. I know it was stupid and I shouldn't have done it but I can't promise I won't do it again." Jason tenses further, shoulders rising and fists beginning to shake as the tears threaten to spill over.

"And why's that, huh? You think it's more important to suffer than to let us help you? You some kind of masochist? Never would of thought you the type but I should have known. You throw yourself at danger enough, I should have fucking known that's how you get your rocks off." Jason growls and Dick worries he's gonna end up hurting himself with how hard he's clenching his fists. The tension has to go somewhere and he's obviously trying not to cry but that doesn't justify hurting himself.

Dick easily brushes off Jason's words. He knows he's just trying to offend Dick, get him riled up, so they can change the topic or Jason would have a reason to leave. He become somewhat used to Jason underhanded tactics by now. "No." He insists, letting that one word fill the room for a few moments before pushing onwards, "Because no matter how much you all tell me it's not a problem my number one goal is still to avoid burdening you. It's a hard habit to shake, Jason, but I'll always put you all first."

Some of the tension drains for Jason's shoulders and his fists stop shaking. His lips tremble, though, and twitch downwards. Tears are clinging to Jason's eyelashes now, fighting to fall while Jason urges them desperately not to. "That's not fair." He tries to insist but the effect is shattered when his voice breaks on the last word.

"I know." Dick whispers, slowly sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the cot. "I know," He echoes, "But sometimes things aren't fair. You know that. I can't stop being a moron, it's kind of just who I am." That gets an almost-smile out of Jason and Dick thinks that that's progress. He'd call himself all the names he needed to to make Jason feel better but he refused to make false promises. He could tell Jason he'd stop throwing himself into danger, tell Jason that he'd never hide an injury again, but he knows that he'd be lying and he doesn't want to do that. Not now. Not while Jason was holding onto his words like they were things to be cherished and remembered. "Tell me what you need me to do. Tell me what I can do."

Jason sniffles, aggressively swiping the back of his hand across his eyes to brush his tears away. Dick's words leave only a tense silence in it's wake, Dick waiting for Jason's next words and choking on the suffocating silence. He feels impatient, the urge to move itching beneath his skin, but he forces himself still and watches Jason calmly.

Jason lets out a harsh breath, a breathy laugh following as he tilts his head back, "God, I don't know." He hisses, sounding more angry at himself than he was angry at Dick. Dick finds that he'd prefer it the other way around. "I don't fucking know what I want you to do. I want you to not collapse on us again." Even in the low light Dick can still see the tears bubbling up again, pooling in Jason's eyes staring up at the ceiling. "But that's apparently not an option."

Dick was starting to get sick of silence. He'd never been a huge fan but these last few years he's cherished it more often than not. Not he feels like the quiet is forcing down his throat, filling his lungs and leaving no room left for air. He's drowning in the silence and there's nothing he can do but wait for it to go away, for something to fill it. Part of him wishes that he'd agreed to the EKG because the beeping would have at least filled the silence but the other part of him thinks that the steady sound would have made it worse; making the room fill like a ticking time bomb.

"I'll tell you what," Dick starts slow, waiting for Jason to bring his head back down to look at him. Dick restrains himself from cringing when a single tear finally falls, trailing down Jason's cheek. Jason doesn't even seem to notice, staring at Dick with pleading puppy eyes that gauge a hole into the acrobat's aching heart. "Whenever you want, and I mean whenever, you can check on me yourself. Even if you have just the slightest suspicion you have free reign to come running and check."

Jason seems to mull that over, looking doubtful, but eventually he nods slowly. He licks his lips, sniffles again, "Yeah. Yeah, okay." He agrees, another tear tracing the same path the other had previously forged. He sucks in a long breath, loud and steady, and forces a smile to curl his lips contorting the shining tear tracks on his face, "I'm so gonna abuse that."

His face says mischievous and teasing but his eyes still scream hurt; scared.

Dick chuckles, shaking his head, and beckons Jason closer, "C'mere real quick."

Jason looks skeptical, eyebrows furrowing together and smirk slowly fading away to hesitant confusion. "Why?" He trails off.

"Just c'mere." Dick urges, again beckoning Jason closer.

Hesitantly Jason creeps closer, like a skittish kitten, but the second he's close enough Dick reaches out and draws the boy into a much needed hug. At first Jason squirms, struggling in Dick's tight grip as the man drags him halfway up onto the cot beside him.

"Hey!" Jason cries, still wiggling, pushing lightly at Dick's chest. It was obvious he didn't want to risk hurting Dick and considering most of his torso was bruised right now there wasn't much leverage for Jason to use. "What the hell, man?" he huffs.

"No point in struggling, just accept your fate, Little Wing." Dick insists, the new nickname sliding off his tongue before he could even think about it.

"Ew, don't call me that." Jason groans, but despite the fact his face was mostly hidden from Dick's sight he could still see the soft smile curling his little brother's lips. Jason heaves himself the rest of the way onto the cot beside Dick, hesitating a moment before resting his head on Dick's shoulder. Dick releases his unyielding hold, instead wrapping an arm around Jason's shoulder and holding him comfortably against his side.

"Sure thing, Little Wing." Dick nods, grinning into the dark room and chuckling lowly when Jason groans.

"You're still a moron." Jason insists, breaths trembling a bit but both of them willfully ignoring it.

"I'm okay with that." and honestly, he couldn't care less.