When Tim went MIA from Sentinel contact again he had admittedly been pissed. After waking up alone, and having to deal with some strange woman while naked and half delirious, the complete cease of contact had added insult to injury.

He was miffed, pissy, and hurt all at the same time, though he wasn't quite sure why considering their background together in the first place. He wasn't stupid. He knew that he had done some damage over the years, that he had kicked the shit out of the kid enough times to warrant dismissal, but all the same he had felt… discarded.

After several days of stewing on it, and Sasha pestering him about his bad mood, he had gotten downright livid. Despite his better judgment he had caved and had trekked out to hunt him down and quite possibly beat sense into him. Again.

And after seeing no sign of him on the streets of Gotham, he had sought him out at home base, only to encounter that same woman on Drake's balcony. Then they had fought, and before he could get any of his frustration out she had gone all 'mama bear' on him, and the next thing he knew he was alone.

Alone in Tim's house with the man in question out cold in bed.

And he was at a complete loss of what to do, because he sure as hell wasn't any nurse, nor did he even know where they stood at current.

He couldn't even be pissed anymore because of course he had to be sick and bed ridden instead of ignoring him like he had initially thought.

With a sigh he returned to Tim's bedroom door, wondering how he managed to get himself all caught up in this in the first place, and entered despite how stupidly out of place he felt.

Tim still lay curled in a near motionless ball cocooned within his blanket fast asleep. He frowned as he approached the bed and yanked off a glove to brush his hand against the teen's forehead.

He was most definitely burning up, despite his lingering hopes that Tim was faking it, and this was all just a ruse. In which he could have lashed out, but no, such was not his luck.

He sighed, unsure of where to go from there, and left the room.

He had never asked for this. Any of it. And while he could very well just up and leave he wasn't ready to cave in and run away. He was not a kid anymore. This wasn't going away and having a temper tantrum was not going to get him anywhere.

It wasn't exactly as though he just fucked anyone. He was kidding himself if he said he didn't have some level of attachment to his replacement, as messed up as that might be, otherwise it would not have happened in the first place, and he surely would not have gotten pissed off enough to hunt him down if the apparent dismissal hadn't hurt.

Inevitably he had settled for banging his head on the wall in frustration before he caved and tossed himself onto the couch to read one of the many books on the far wall.

He would deal with reality later…

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tim woke to the smell of food.

While that was a common occurrence, he was not so far gone to realize that something was off, and he peaked his head out from the covers to glare lazily at the clock.

It wasn't Pru's cooking. He knew her food, and this was food-food, not pasta, cake, or takeout.

He held on to the thought that Alfred had perhaps come by unannounced but it seemed very unlikely.

It was all very disconcerting.

He stretched and stumbled out of bed, shuffling as he struggled to free himself from the tightly wrapped blankets, and finally managed to drop them at the door without falling before he set off into the hall.

He was not at all prepared as he stepped into the kitchen where he stood gaping in the doorway in shocked silence trying to register the scene.

Jason stood at the stove, cooking food he most certainly did not recall purchasing, wearing Pru's apron.

"Wha?" He muttered in confusion, and Jason simply looked over his shoulder at the sudden intrusion, giving a sheepish grin.

"Miss tactical gear put me in charge. Judging by your fridge, cabinets, and your cocoon, you haven't eaten in a while. Thought breakfast might be a good thing. Plus, I was starving and you had bacon- the good shit, but nothing to go with it. Ran to the store down the street."

"What?"

Sensing how incoherent Tim at least thought he was, Jason sighed and hesitantly approached him, the teen still stunned and half awake, and draped an arm around his shoulder to guide him to the table. At this point Tim was pretty much convinced that Pru had given him an odd sort of medication, and he was tripping out while dreaming, but he hobbled along all the same. Jason sat him down despite his rigidness and turned back to the stove to plate some of the previously mentioned food.

When it was set in front of him, Tim only blinked, and stared at it worriedly, which earned him a half assed glare attempt.

"Eat the damn food or I'll tie you up and force feed you." He muttered, nudging the plate closer to him.

It earned Jason a peculiar look at Tim stabbed at his eggs until the teen actually took a bite and realized that it was in fact there and he was not hallucinating.

To his surprise, not only was Jason legitimately in his kitchen, in an apron, where he had made him breakfast, but it was edible. Not just edible, but actually pretty damn good, which was saying something given the state of his stomach the past several days, and he happily ate more all the while watching the man out of the corner of his eye.

He had however underestimated just how drowsy he still was, getting up out of bed for the first time in two days, and half way through his unexplained meal he felt himself starting to crash. To his surprise, enough so that he dropped his fork, Jason came up from behind with an amused expression on his face.

"You're going to land face first in the remnants of your eggs. Possibly get syrup in your hair too. Would be such a tragedy."

And if Tim were not so woozy all of a sudden he might have lashed out for that last remark.

"I'm perfectly fine. Other than the fact that you are in my house- how are you in my house exactly?" He muttered, picking his fork back up as he resumed eating.

"Snarky woman with some serious moves." He sniffed, and frowned when Tim's head bobbed briefly, nearly conking out once more.

He gave a frustrated sigh and snatched the utensil from Tim's hand, earning a squawk, before outright hefting the young man up into his arms. The teen flailed and shouted, slamming his fists into Jason's shoulder, which only earned a chuckle.

"I'm not a child!"

"Yes, yes, I know…" he sighed, shaking his head.

"…not some damsel in distress-"

"Definitely not." He agreed promptly. "But you're sick as a damned dog and ready to drown in your plate, and I don't think your Assassin chick would appreciate coming back to find you dead by my hand, albeit accidentally, and totally brought on by yourself." He rolled his eyes, and carefully dropped Tim onto his bed, tossing the covers over him.

Tim groaned, and draped an arm over his eyes, sighing in frustration.

"Not fair."

"Not in the slightest. You're the one sick and in bed. I get bored without you bitching in my ear. That or almost dead apparently." He laughed awkwardly. "Though I'd prefer it if we never mentioned that bit of stupidity again of course. Not my finest moment."

"You're such a headache…" Tim slurred, turning onto his side, where he pulled the covers up around his eyes.

Jason snorted and pulled the curtains shut to block out the sunlight.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

With that, Tim yawned, and huffed softly into his pillows.

" 'sides the point…"

Jason froze in the doorway.

He tilted his head, staring at the shadowed lump, waiting for additional comment, but all he received was silence.

Tim was not supposed to agree to his sarcasm.

Especially that sort of statement.

As he slipped out of the room and gently shut the door behind him he found himself conflicted yet again.

The whole situation- this thing with Drake, it was stupid. Foolish, and he should have just left things as is after he had his walk of shame that next day.

But…

He also couldn't help how his heart had stuttered with that mumbled agreement nor the flush that had risen to his face.

He was glad he had kept this visit from Sasha.

She would have never let him live it down.