Dick wonders if he'll ever stop shivering. He wants numbness to come but it never does. He curls up tightly on the small bed keeping only to the thin lumpy mattress. The room is solid steel the small welded shut air vent at the corner of the room is the closest thing he has to a window. A pipe jutting from the ceiling and the drain underneath it constituted as his water though he had no means to turn it on. He's learned the pattern for it; ten minutes in the morning five at night. The toilet also made of cold steel sat in the corner across from his bed. The bed was the only comforting thing in the small room and although fused to the floor had the worn out cushion for comfort. It had no bed sheets or blankets, those were taken long ago. He was left with nothing but a pair of boxers, the thin cotton material not near enough to keep him remotely warm.

He's getting weak, losing weight. The food he's given is purposefully not enough. Jason's kept him too weak to fight for weeks. Jason. He exhales sharply through his nose. Jason's gone off the damn deep end and then some. Calling himself Batman and killing those he deems undeserving of life. Dick thinks of his family and what's become of them. Jason had told him Tim was dead but there was no proof other than his word and Dick knew not to trust him. Still the thought ran through his head. His younger brother dead because he was too slow to react. Maybe he deserved this. To be locked up alone, freezing, dying.

Alone. The needy desperate part of him fought that word. There was Jason. He laughed tiredly, inwardly despising himself, his desire - his need to be around others. Dick was a social creature at heart and despite his attempts to distance himself at times he could never stay away for very long without a type of mental exhaustion kicking in. Jason knew this and he exploited it. Jason would come into the room smelling of Gotham, smoke and blood then begin taunting him. Asking him if being a hero was all it was cracked up to be and everything could be better so much better if Dick would just toss his old morals and ideals out and follow Jason.

Dick's answer was always the same, the younger man would snarl at him leaving him alone and cold all over again. Even after most of the fight had left him he still tried. He recalled one good hit landing on the others jaw sending him backwards. Jason had kicked him into a wall ripping all of the air out of his lungs but it was worth it. Or so he thought.

"You wanna die alone and forgotten Dickie? Alright then."

Shortly after Jason left the water pipe began pouring out past the five and the ten minute mark. It remained a constant white noise for five days straight with no sight of Jason. He was actually going to leave him here to starve to death. Alone. His head swam his eyes growing heavy as he fell out of consciousness. Maybe the nightmare would finally be over.

When he came to he was back in bed his head resting against something warm firmer than his mattress. A hand ran through his hair and he leaned into the touch before his mind could register what was happening. Dick's eyes sprang open, he tried to remove himself but the hand tightened around his hair in warning. He laid his head back onto Jason's lap and the hands grip softened becoming oddly gentle. His eyes slid closed involuntarily relaxing to the heat and touch. He needed this – just a little bit and then he could go back to fighting. Just this once.

At least that what he had told himself.

He scrubbed at his face with his hands uncurling on the bed, frustration coursing through him. Almost as soon as it had started Dick began to crave his brothers daily visits. Lingering touches turning rough back to soft and tender, throwing Dick's too weary mind through loops. His answers would remain the same as before except now he felt less and less victorious. His mind was falling apart. Jason was all Dick had left and maybe he knew that in the way he seemed to be able to keep Dick together while simultaneously tearing him down piece by piece.

Yesterday he had slipped up. Jason's hands were all over him, his teeth biting and taking what it wanted. How was Dick supposed to think straight? It had felt good and warm – so warm.

"I can't" He answered.

"Can't?" Jason repeated.

Dick's body stiffened, "Won't." He corrected.

Something flickered in Jason's eyes and a horrible feeling sunk into Dick's gut.

The door unlocks, deadbolts sounding off loudly before Jason steps in. Dick doesn't move he listens to his brothers footsteps until they're replaced with the feeling of the mattress sinking in by his feet.

"You know" Jason begins, "the more I think about it the more I don't think you even deserve your old title back."

Dick clenches his jaw tight he wasn't going to rise at Jason's bait.

"Maybe I should keep you here like this. My own personal bed warmer." Jason says and Dick can picture the smug grin on Jason's face without looking up.

"Sad state of your love life huh?" Dick's own voice is beginning to sound foreign to him. He doesn't know what to feel about that, he doesn't need another thing to add to his list of worries.

"That's not a no."

"Fuck off." Dick counters putting as much venom in the words as he can muster.

The mattress lifts as Jason stands to leave and without thought Dick shifts to sit up. He curses at himself.

"Want me to stay Dickie bird?"

Dick locks his eyes towards the floor.

"Suit yourself." Jason shrugs turning to leave again.

He shivers. It's so cold his bones ache. He doesn't want to be cold – doesn't want to be alone.

"Wait... stay." Voice quiet, his eyes still on the floor.

The bed sinks as Jason sits back down, "I think you're gonna have to give me a reason."

Dick doesn't want to think about how easy it is for him to reach over and unfasten Jason's pants. That he already knows what to do and how to work his tongue. Jason likes to be rough with him but doesn't want it reciprocated back. Any hint of teeth against the sensitive flesh and Jason's pulling his hair so hard he howls out in pain.

Jason pushes Dick's hands out of the way, "Not this time. Elbows and knees circus boy."

His stomach tightens and the younger man chuckles tracing his fingers in circles around Dick's adams apple. He swallows and Jason's lips are on him. The kiss is soft and wet, something he'd consider romantic if it were anyone else anywhere else. He wants to fight, knock his brother to the ground and keep him there. Except Jason is so close -so hot, Dick's skin begins to tingle as though set ablaze.

This can be ok he thinks. This doesn't mean he's given up the fight. Jason's pressing him into the bed biting at the nape of his neck as Dick's body begins to twitch into life. Hands grip his hips roughly pulling them upwards, Jason's bulge pressing against him.

"We could do this in my bedroom, in my bed. You just have to say the word." Jason breathes into his ear.

Dick's mind runs through the obvious answers but then stops. Jason pulls back a little and he feels a chill run over him. He rears up back into contact with the other. He's so tired of the cold and he doesn't want to be alone anymore.

"Just this- just this once."