Jason woke up to footsteps.

He was up in a second, rolling over and out of bed. Sparing one glance at his clock, reading 2:00 am, Jason grabbed his handgun from his bedside table before heading towards the source of the noise.

His apartment – an old one in the centre of Crime Alley – was creaky, difficult to move around without making a sound. It was the reason he'd chosen it, after all, he didn't need to sneak around his own home and anyone else would give themselves away. This noise, in particular, had come from his kitchen.

Jason held his gun ready as he glanced around the corner, before straightening and striding into the kitchen, flicking on the light as he did so.

The light illuminated Dick Grayson – dressed as Nightwing sans mask with a backpack slung over his shoulder - looking judgementally into Jason's refrigerator.

Jason groaned and dropped his gun onto his counter. "Dick. What are you doing?" he ran his hand through his hair. "It's two in the morning."

Dick glanced at him. "You don't have enough food," he said, frowning.

Jason glared. "Like you're one to talk." He very distinctly remembered going to visit Dick years ago before…well, before. The only food Dick had had in his apartment had been half of a stale pack of Lucky Charms and two jars of pickled onions – bought because 'they were buy one, get one free'. Oh, and lychees. Dick had also owned lychees. "How did you even get in here? You know breaking and entering is illegal, right?"

Dick grinned, before pulling himself onto Jason's counter island. The old thing groaned under his weight and Jason sent a suspicious glance at it. If Dick broke his counter island…

"It's not breaking and entering if you have a key," Dick said, pulling Jason's attention back to him.

"It is if you made a counterfeit key, Grayson," Jason snapped.

Dick laughed. "You're just salty that I picked your pocket and you didn't notice."

Jason grumbled under his breath.

"Anyway," Dick said. "That's not why I'm here."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?" he prompted when Dick stopped speaking.

Dick reached into his backpack and pulled out his iPad. "We have a problem," he said, all joking leaving his voice. "A gang problem."

Jason pulled a chair over and sat down. "Go on."

Dick tapped the screen and opened up a map of Gotham. "I've been shadowing the North-Side Ghosts gang for the last few weeks," he started, frowning down at the map. "And things are getting bad. They're coming up against a gang in your territory, ah, the East Side Dragons. Looks like it could break out into a gang war."

Jason leaned forward. "So?"

Dick glanced at him with a wry grin. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not entirely opposed to letting them take each other out, but it looks like they're going to wind up fighting here," he used two fingers to move the screen.

Jason frowned. The map showed a part of Gotham to the north that crossed Crime Alley itself, not far above Old Gotham. It was one of the most densely populated areas in the city. If a gang war broke out there, the civilian casualties would be high.

"So we need to stop it," he summed up. "Before that happens."

Dick nodded. "There's a Ghost arms-deal going down near Amusement Mile later tonight. If we can take that out, hopefully we can at least delay the war."

"Got it," Jason glanced up at Dick. "You know, Amusement Mile is part of your territory. Why are you getting me involved?"

Dick shrugged, "Your gang's involved. Besides, Bruce'd kill me if I did this alone," conveniently forgetting the fact that Bruce would be just as unhappy with him doing it with Jason.

"If the Ghosts didn't kill you first," Jason pointed out, unable to keep the smile from coming to his lips.

Dick scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "Like a second-rate gang like the Ghosts could take me out," he pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged on the counter island.

For a second, Jason considered telling him to get off and sit in a proper chair. Then he remembered Bruce's attempts to keep Dick from sitting on the table…and the mantelpiece. Bruce had failed and Jason didn't think he was any more likely to get Dick to listen to him. The idiot would probably just take it as a challenge.

"We need a plan," he said instead, pulling his chair closer and putting his elbows on the counter.

Dick nodded, shifting forward and putting the pad on the counter in between them. "This is the warehouse…"

Sitting on a rooftop, soaked in rain, Jason regretted everything. Every choice he'd ever made that led to this moment. Stealing Bruce's tires. Agreeing to sneak out of school with Dick. That one time they snuck into one of the cheap theatres in Gotham Village and watched a play about a dude and his goat. Everything.

Dick perched next to him looking irritatingly cheery despite the torrential downpour that made his normally fluffy hair look like a drowned dog's fur. As Jason glared at him, contemplating how easy it would be to push him off right now, Dick reached up to his mask and tapped the side. The slight change in colour to the white over his eyes said he'd turned the mask on, allowing him to see heat-signatures and such.

Jason missed having those toys. Dang it, sometimes being estranged from the Family sucked.

"They're in there," Dick reported, leaning forward. "Forty-two of them in the main building. Five more guards."

Jason scoffed. "We can take them."

Dick sent him a smirk. "Duh."

The warehouse in question was large, not abandoned but owned by Lex Corp according to Dick's research. They'd have to look into the possibility of Luthor funding the gangs.

Jason could already see several entrances into the building, the most advantageous being the roof-entrance. "I bet I can take out more than you," he said, sorting away the ways out.

Dick let out a laugh. "Please. Like you could beat me."

"Wanna bet, Goldie?" Jason smirked, holding out one hand. "Winner picks what we watch next time."

Dick took it and shook it firmly. "You're on," he grinned. "Hope you're ready to spend tomorrow watching Power Rangers, 'cause that's what's coming your way."

Jason scoffed. "Please. You're the one who's going to be suffering through Barney & Friends."

Dick let out a bark of laughter. "We'll see."

Jason freed his hand from Dick's grip and stepped forward to the edge of the roof. "Then let's go see," he said, before aiming a grapple at one of the higher buildings and firing. One tug ascertained it was attached and Jason swung.

Behind him, Dick did the same and they both landed softly on the warehouse roof at the same time.

Dick crept forward first, finding his way to the door and slipping inside. Soft sounds came from the door as Jason followed, both of his guns at the ready, silencers pre-attached.

The door led out onto a staircase which in turn led to a platform above the main body of the warehouse. On the platform, Dick crouched, two unconscious bodies next to him. Guards.

Jason dropped down soundlessly and Dick indicated to himself, then the left side of the platform. Jason nodded and slipped off to the right.

Once he was in position, Jason glanced over the edge at the warehouse below.

The men and women underneath were ready and armed. The ghost symbol on the back of their jackets was a clear indicator that they were of the North-Side Ghosts. Along the back wall, a pile of boxes stood, with several men checking through them.

Good to know that Dick's intel had been right.

"Everything's here, boss," a heavily Gotham-accented voice came from below, as one of the men turned from his box to look at a tall woman with shaved-short red hair.

She nodded, before glancing towards where a group of people stood together, their hands on their weapons. "Looks like you lot were honest with us," she said – posh English accent, probably from London or thereabouts, upper-class. "And, as promised," she waved her hand and a man came forward carrying a briefcase. "Two hundred thousand dollars, ready and packed."

The leader of the group came forward and grabbed the briefcase, opening it and checking through the contents. Once he was satisfied, he nodded to her. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said – American, probably from South Mississippi or around there, working-class.

She nodded back and waved to her people to start packing up the boxes.

"Time to go," Dick's voice came through Jason's earpiece.

Jason prepped his guns, before he took a breath. And jumped.

Landing in the centre of the room, he didn't give them time to react. One gunshot went off. A man dropped, his leg bleeding. Another gunshot. A man fell back, gripping his shoulder.

Dick dropped from the platform, starting fighting the second he touched the ground. The men around him were decimated in seconds.

Jason didn't waste time. His bullets took out several more, before he leapt into hand-to-hand combat, hitting one in the face with the butt of his gun and taking out one's kneecap with a bone-shattering kick.

A bullet came past him, catching his arm. He spun and fired. The man sank to the ground, his shoulder bleeding. Jason knocked him out, quickly, before spinning around and taking out another with a punch.

A gleeful laugh came from behind him. Dick was having far too much fun with this.

Jason caught sight of a woman coming up behind Dick. Swinging his gun around, he aimed and fired twice.

She dropped, blood coming from her side and her shoulder.

Dick glanced behind him, before nodding in thanks and jumping back into the fight.

Within minutes, the fight was over and the gang members lay groaning on the floor.

Dick came to Jason's side, looking around. "Nice job," he said, glancing at the man bleeding at Jason's feet.

Jason glanced at him. "No kill-shots," he said, just to confirm, although Dick had probably already seen.

Dick smiled and gripped his shoulder. "I noticed. Thanks, Hood."

Jason shifted, before he looked away and started counting the unconscious bodies. Had to figure out how many he'd taken out. He was not spending tomorrow watching Power Rangers. If he had to, he'd add a gunshot wound here and there.

Dick strode over to the boxes, checking through them. "It's all here," he called over his shoulder.

Jason hummed in response, caught up counting the bodies.

Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty….?

No forty-two.

A sinking sensation made itself known and Jason spun around, his eyes scanning the warehouse.

Come on, come on. Where are you?

Not fast enough. Three gunshots in succession echoed through the warehouse. And Dick let out a cry of pain.

Jason spun. He just had enough time to see Dick on the ground, bleeding, before he caught sight of movement in the shadows.

One gunshot and the red-haired Ghost leader dropped to the ground.

Jason didn't pause to see if he'd killed her – if he had, she'd have deserved it, she shot his brother from behind.

Without even realising it, he crossed the floor and found himself next to Dick. Dropping to his knees, he scanned his brother, ice flooding his veins.

All three bullets had found their mark, one in Dick's upper back, one in his shoulder and one in his lower back. Armor-piercing bullets. They had to be. All three had torn straight through the Kevlar in Dick's costume.

He gently moved Dick so he could see the exit wounds on his front.

Two had come through, the lower back one had come tearing out through Dick's stomach and the shoulder one had left a messy hole and disjointed look where Dick's collarbone should be. Shattered, probably.

One hadn't come through. The one in his upper back.

Jason could only hope it hadn't injured his spine.

"Goldie," he hissed, slapping at Dick's face. "Wake up, idiot. If you die, so help me, I will…"

"W-will what?" Dick's voice made him sag with relief. A little.

Jason sucked in a deep breath. "I'll get Alfred to glare you into submission," he said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

Dick snickered, then yelped. "Ah! Laughing hurts. Laughing bad."

Jason put pressure on the stomach wound, the most immediate one. "Dick, I need you to put pressure on that wound in your shoulder, you hear me?"

Dick nodded and tried to move his arm, before crying out. "I…Jay...I can't…"

"You have to," Jason's voice came out harsher than he intended.

Dick managed to drag his hand up to his shoulder and gripped it with white knuckles. Jason steadily ignored his whimpers of pain. "Jay, recon. N-need to ch-check for a-anyone else."

Jason growled. Dick was already starting to slur his words. That wasn't good. Not good at all. "I'm not leaving you. Besides, I checked. All forty-two accounted for."

"O-only people i-in b-building. G-guards," Dick forced out. "N-need ch-check."

Jason forced back nausea. "I can't leave you."

Dick forced a weak smile. "I'll b-be f-f-fine. G-go."

Jason growled again, before he jumped to his feet and ran.

One room, nothing, next room, nothing. Room after that, nothing.

Skidding to a stop, Jason closed his eyes and tried not to be sick. Dick was dying and he was just running around like a headless chicken. He had to get back. Who cared if there was anyone else here? He'd just take them out too.

He turned on his heel to go back to his brother.

A creaking came from the other side of him and Jason froze.

"Did you hear them gunshots?" a voice came from the side and Jason cursed vividly under his breath. Dick had been right. There was more. Five more guards, he remembered Dick saying now. Dick had taken out two. Three more to go.

Well, Jason checked his guns to be sure they were fully reloaded. They weren't stopping him from getting back to his brother. Nobody was.

The voices drew closer and Jason didn't wait for them to reach him. He darted forward, smashing through the door, before aiming and firing his guns. Two dropped as his bullets hit. One still stood – a big, meaty guy that reminded Jason of Killer Croc.

The guy jumped out of the way of one bullet, before bringing his fist smashing into Jason's face.

Jason stumbled backwards, before growling and aiming a savage kick at the guy's nether-regions. The guy fell back with a cry of pain when Jason's kick connected, but Jason didn't give him a second to regroup.

He aimed and fired. The guy dropped as the bullet tore through his hip.

Jason kicked again, smashing the guy's face. And he was out.

Jason didn't stop for a second longer. Five guards, Dick had said, two taken out on the platform and three here. No more.

He turned and ran through the warehouse, skidding to a stop next to Dick.

Dick had not done well over the past few minutes. He had his eyes closed and his skin had a grey tint to it, his lips almost white where he was biting them. Underneath him was a steadily growing pool of blood. His hands were visibly shaking where he was trying to put pressure on the wounds.

Jason swore and dropped to his knees. "Dick. Dick. Come on Goldie, can you hear me?"

Dick shifted. "N-no n-names in the field," he slurred out.

"Shut up, Dickface," Jason took over putting pressure on the wound. Dick needed help yesterday and Jason had no way of giving it to him.

As he put more pressure on the injury, Dick groaned, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

Jason sucked in air. Nononono.

Dick was dying. Dick was actually, properly dying and there wasn't a single thing Jason could do about it.

His hands were shaking, his entire body was shaking. Dick's dying, Dick's dying, Dick's dying.

He needed to do something, anything. He couldn't do anything. Dick was going to die. Dick was going to die.

Then he remembered. He had a comlink. A comlink Dick had given him, a comlink to the one group of people who could help right now.

Desperately, Jason took one hand off Dick's wound in order to pull off his helmet and tap the com in his ear. A few seconds passed during which Jason grew increasingly more terrified. "Come on, come on, you stupid thing!"

"Red Hood? Is that you?" Despite everything, Bruce's voice made Jason almost sob with relief.

"Dick's been shot," he got out. "It's bad, Bruce, it's really, really bad."

He shifted to place more pressure on the hole, his entire body trembling so much that he had to put all of his weight into it to do anything.

Bruce went silent for a second. "What about you? Jason, are you alright?"

It took a few seconds for that to register. So sue him, he was holding his sibling's organs inside of him through the power of hands, he was allowed to be a bit slow. "I…yeah, I'm fine. It's Dick…Dick's…he's dying, Bruce. Bruce, he's dying. I can't.."

"Jay, it's okay, calm down. We're on our way. Leslie's been called. It'll be fine. Where are you, Jay?" Bruce's voice was gentle, comforting. The fact that he didn't lecture Jason on using names in the field was a sign he recognised how serious the situation was.

For a moment, Jason had no idea. He grasped desperately for the address. Come on, come on. "Near Amusement Mile. It's…I don't remember, Bruce, I can't… I can't remember."

"It's alright," Bruce's voice went away for a moment. Soft voices could be heard in the background. Jason almost vomited, his anchor gone for a second.

"Bruce!" he gasped out.

"It's okay," Bruce was back. "It's okay, Jay-lad. It's okay. We're tracking you. Tim's got your location. The information about Amusement Mile helped to narrow our area. We've got you. It's okay. Just stay calm. What happened, Jay-lad, just tell me what happened?"

Jay-lad.

Jason hadn't heard that name in a long, long time.

"I…Dick was shot. Three…three times. Some gang leader, she shot him from behind. He didn't…I didn't know, Bruce. I didn't know she was there, I didn't know-"

"It's alright," Bruce's voice was firm. "I know you didn't know. We're almost there. Where are the wounds, Jay-lad? Just tell me where they are."

"They…one's in his left shoulder, think it…shattered his collar-bone. One's in his back. It…it doesn't have an exit wound. I don't know. And there's one in his stomach – I mean it came out through his stomach. It's bad-"

"I know it's bad," Bruce said. Behind him, Jason could hear the soft, comforting vrom-vrom of the Batmobile – it reminded him of nights spent curled up in it, Bruce's hand running through his hair.

No. Don't think about that. Jason sucked in a deep breath.

"Jay, just keep putting pressure on the wound, it'll be fine. We're on our way," Bruce kept up a steady stream of reassurances as Jason kept pressure on Dick's wound.

"We're here," Bruce said, finally, finally. "We're here, Jay-lad. We're here."

The doors to the warehouse burst open with a smash. Jason didn't look up.

His eyes stayed focused on Dick's too-pale, too-grey, too-empty face. He didn't move. Hands grasped his and pulled him away.

Jason fought back. "No, Dick!"

"It's okay, Jay-lad," Bruce's voice was gentle. "It's okay. Tim and Cass have him."

Jason's eyes finally focused in on the reality of what was happening. Red Robin and Black Bat were both bent over Dick's bo…Dick.

He barely even noticed being pulled away and into the Batmobile, Bruce's hands on his arms. He didn't notice even when the car started, his eyes staying focused on Dick.

"Hey, Jason," Red Robin's voice was soft. Jason looked up and saw the Replacement watching him, his cowl pulled down. "You okay?"

Jason flinched, but didn't answer, his eyes dropping back down to Dick.

"Yeah. I guess that makes sense," Red Robin sighed, before dropping back into silence. He and Black Bat carried on working on Dick, keeping him alive.

The Batmobile came to a stop and Jason was barely aware of being helped out of the car. Dick was on a stretcher. Alfred was there. Then Dick was gone.

Jason found himself sitting down, he wasn't sure where, waiting. Just waiting.

"Erm, Jason."

Jason looked up to see The Replacement sans the Red Robin costume stood in front of him. He was holding a tray of medical supplies. "What?" Jason asked shortly.

The Replacement flinched. "I…Bruce said to check you over. Make sure you're not hurt."

Jason scowled. "I'm fine."

The Replacement didn't flinch this time. Instead his blue eyes went hard. "I can tell that's a lie and I wasn't even there," he said.

Jason glared back and for a moment they were caught in a glaring contest. Finally, Jason looked away. "Fine," he said, scowling at the floor, pulling his leather jacket off and dropping it on the floor. "Have at it."

The Replacement came forward and Jason felt gentle, tentative fingers start to explore the wound on his arm. "This'll need stitches," the kid said after a moment. "Do you…shall I do them or do you want Alfred?"

Alfred. Dick. No. Dick needed Alfred more.

"You can do them," Jason said, emptily. He reached with numb fingers to unfasten his Kevlar top and pull it off, freeing his arm from its grip and allowing the kid access to the injury.

The kid took a deep breath. "Okay."

They sunk into silence as the kid pulled up a chair and started to clean the wound. The silence stretched out into the dark as a needle pushed through Jason's flesh. He didn't flinch.

Finally, it finished and the kid wrapped a bandage around Jason's arm, before tying it off. The silence continued.

"I…Jason," the kid was the first to break it. "I just wanted to say...thank you. I think…you saved Dick. If you hadn't been there, he'd be…"

Dead. Dick would be dead.

Jason shrugged. "My brother too," he said shortly.

The kid let out a surprised laugh. "Yeah. I guess he is."

Silence.

"My name's Tim," the kid said quietly. "I…I know you already know it, but…we've never actually been introduced. I just…ugh, it's stupid but I just wanted to…" he shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm gonna see what's going on with Dick. I'll come back and tell you if anything's changed."

Jason nodded and watched as he left.

Time seemed to fade and Jason had no idea how long had passed in between the kid leaving and returning, but he was pretty sure it was a few hours. The kid actually remembering him was pretty impressive.

"Dick's out of surgery," the boy said, smiling. "Leslie said that he isn't quite out of danger yet, but if he makes it through the next day, he should be fine."

It was like a bucket of water had been dumped on Jason's head. Dick was going to be okay. Maybe. Should be okay. If there was a chance, Dick would live. He wouldn't just go and die now.

He closed his eyes, relief flooding him. "Thanks," he remembered to say, opening his eyes.

The kid smiled wider. "I said I would." There was a moment of silence. "Are you gonna come? Leslie said we could see him if we wanted to."

Jason stared at him. The kid was opening up something clearly meant for Family and letting Jason in. "I…maybe in a minute."

A look of disappointment – actual, real disappointment passed over the boy's face. "Oh. Right. Well, if you decide to come…he's in the med-bay."

The kid darted away.

Jason watched him leave, before finally raising his eyes to look at where he really was. He was on the top level, not far away from the Batcomputer. He caught sight of the evidence table where he always used to sit, swinging his feet back and forward – too short to touch the floor back then. The chair where he used to curl up after a long night patrolling, with Alfred's hot chocolate and homemade marshmallows. Sometimes, early on, before Jason got too big, Bruce would carry him up to bed.

Jason felt sick.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head, before forcing himself to his feet and pulling his clothes back on. Whether the kid really wanted him there or not, he doubted very much Bruce would. And he wasn't in the mood for a fight with Bruce.

Besides, he still needed to pick his motorcycle up from where he'd left it a few streets away from the warehouse.

He headed for the edge, climbing down from the top level and reaching the bottom in a matter of seconds. (He very carefully ignored the memories of racing Dick up and down it).

Once on the bottom, he headed for the exit.

"Jason."

The voice made him freeze in place.

Bruce.

Jason turned, clenching his fists. "What?" he spat.

Bruce was stood near the elevator installed for Babs, looking very, very tired. He took a few steps forward.

"You don't…you don't need to leave," he said after a minute, sounding like he was forcing the words out.

Jason let out a bitter laugh. "Sure. I don't have to leave. Right. Like you want me here, spoiling your precious cave with my murder hands."

Bruce flinched, an expression of…well, if he didn't know any better, Jason would call it grief passed over his face. "That's. You don't have to go. Really."

Jason rolled his eyes, before starting towards the cave-exit.

"You didn't kill them," Bruce's voice made him stop again. "The…the people in the warehouse. You didn't kill them."

Jason flinched. "No. I didn't," he said shortly.

He could almost hear Bruce getting his hopes up, so he dug his nails into his palms and spoke. "Not because of you. Because I was with Dick. And you know he'd find a way to hate himself for me killing people, even though it was me who pulled the trigger."

"Still," Bruce's voice was emotional, but Jason couldn't name any of said emotions if he tried. "Jason. I mean it, you don't have to…"

"Indeed not," Alfred's voice sliced the tension in the room in half. "Ridiculous notion," he stepped out of the elevator and glared at both of the occupants of the room. "Don't you let me hear a word more of this tomrot about leaving. Master Jason," he turned to Jason who was stood frozen by the exit. "If you take one more step towards that door, I will be forced to drag you back by the ear. You are going to go upstairs and take a shower, then wear the clothes I shall set out for you. After this, you will go and sit by your brother's side, since I know full well you will not rest."

Jason blinked. "I…but…"

"No buts," Alfred glared at him. "You know perfectly well that Master Richard will panic if he wakes and you are not there. So far as he is aware, last time he saw you, you were both in danger. We will not be able to calm him until you get there, so you may as well stay and save everyone the trouble."

Well. Can't argue with logic. Or Alfred for that matter.

"Master Bruce," Alfred turned to Bruce. "Go on upstairs."

Bruce didn't argue. He stepped into the elevator and soon he was gone from view.

Jason flinched as Alfred turned back to him. "Master Jason," Alfred's iron voice was gone, replaced with gentleness. "Please. I won't force you really. But stay. Please."

Jason met his eyes, before he nodded slightly. "Okay."

Alfred's smile was reward enough. "Good. Now, follow me."

Jason followed Alfred through the cave, leaving him at the showers and stepping in. Once he was done showering, he came out to find clothes laid out neatly - underwear, a pair of loose black sweatpants and a Wonder Woman t-shirt.

Pulling on the clothes, he padded his way through the cave, arriving at the medbay within minutes.

Even after so long, he knew this place like he knew the plot of Oliver Twist. Perfectly.

He paused in front of the door and took a deep breath, staring at the metal. Gathering his courage, he reached out and pressed the button.

The door opened and Jason stepped through.

"Jason!" The kid's excited voice came from inside. "You came!"

Jason rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he said, sounding more light-hearted than he really felt. "Don't get excited."

The kid – Tim was sat on the end of Dick's bed, grinning at him. Curled up on the bed next to Dick, her fingers interlinked with his, lay Cassandra Cain. She uncurled slightly and smiled at him, before returning to her former position.

The demon brat – Damian – was lurking on the chair next to Dick, his arms crossed tightly. How exactly he was lurking while sitting down, Jason didn't know, but he was managing it somehow.

Jason dropped into the chair on the other side, frowning at Dick's face. Dick looked better than he had in the warehouse, though not as well as Jason wanted him to look. Suddenly he was struck by how much it would've hurt to leave him, to not know what happened until someone remembered to tell him. Swallowing, he forced the fear back. It hadn't happened. He was here.

"You better wake up soon, Dickface," he informed the sleeping idiot, refusing to allow access to the thoughts.

Cass giggled and Tim rolled his eyes, before starting to intently gaze at Dick.

Jason settled down. It was going to be a long wait.

Nine hours later - after Alfred had managed to get them all to eat a bit of food and get some sleep even if it was in the other beds in the medbay – Jason was once again sitting in his chair. Tim was back on the end of the bed and Cass had taken the other chair. Babs had been in for a while, before she'd had to roll over to the computer to take charge of some Birds of Prey mission. Damian was asleep in one of the other beds, after being bribed with another pet rabbit if he got at least six hours of sleep.

Jason had left the room once, to search for a book, and had found The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle – Dick's favourite book and one he'd shared happily with Jason. The sight of the book on the library shelves had brought back memories of curling up on one of the sofas with Dick reading it to him.

Jason had decided to reverse the roles.

He turned the page, before carrying on reading the book aloud. Both Tim and Cass were probably listening more than the still unconscious Dick, but whatever.

He turned the page again, starting on 'Robin Hood and Allan a Dale'.

"It has just been told how three unlucky adventures fell upon Robin Hood and Little John all in one day, bring them sore ribs and aching bones…" Jason read.

A movement from the bed interrupted him and Tim reached forward. "Dick?" he said. "You awake?"

Dick moaned. "Mmmm. Though I kinda wish I wasn't."

"I can imagine," Tim said, letting out a relieved laugh. "You can have more painkillers soon."

Dick smiled at him weakly, squeezing Cass's hand tightly, before glancing to his side. "Jay," he breathed, relief obvious in his voice. "You're okay."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Duh. It wasn't me who took three bullets, idiot," he said.

"Whatever, jerk," Dick's smile belied his words.

Jason started to put the book down.

"No," Dick weakly moved his hand. "Jay. Please. Carry on."

Jason glanced at the book, then back at Dick. Then he shrugged and opened the book again. "Okay, adventures fell upon Robin Hood and Little John, blah, blah, blah…oh, there. So next we will tell how they made up for these ill happenings…"

Somewhere during the chapter about the Friar, Damian awoke and, scowling, joined them in listening to Jason reading.

As Jason read, the others slowly started to fall asleep. Cass was the first, followed by Tim with his head resting on Dick's legs. Damian was next, curled up in his chair.

And finally, Dick drifted off.

Jason raised his eyes from his book finally, to see his siblings all asleep and Bruce watching silently from the shadows.

"You are such a lurker," he said flatly.

Bruce sighed. "I didn't want to interrupt."

Jason looked back down at his book. "Whatever."

Bruce stayed silent, before he sat on one of the beds. "Carry on, Jay," he said softly, almost perfectly mimicking his oldest son's words from before. "It's keeping Dick from trying to move, at least."

Jason took a deep breath, before he returned to reading 'Robin Hood Turns Beggar'.

"'Halloa, good fellow,' quoth Robin, when he had come nigh to the other…"

A little over two weeks later, Jason found himself returning to the Manor for the tenth time in as many days. He slipped in through the backdoor, still uncomfortable coming into contact with Bruce, sneaking up to where Dick was in bed.

He slipped down the corridor, freezing as he realised where he was. Turning, he caught sight of a door.

His old bedroom door, to be exact.

For a brief second, Jason found his hand reaching out for the handle. He pulled it back. No. It wasn't the time to deal with all of that.

He ignored the door and stalked away, finding Dick's bedroom and throwing the door open.

"Well, that was quite the entrance," said Dick flatly.

He was lying in bed, with Tim next to him. They were playing what looked like Go Fish.

Jason shut the door behind him. "Where's the demon brat?"

"Damian's at school," said Dick. "He should be home in a few hours."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "And no one else in this family is supposed to be in education?" he asked, looking pointedly at Tim.

Tim shrugged. "I'm not planning on starting college for a while yet," he said. "So I'm free to play Go Fish."

Dick ruffled the kid's hair affectionately. "And I'm glad for it. I've been going stir-crazy here on my own."

Jason took that as an opening. "Well I'm here to brighten your day," he said with a flamboyant gesture. "I brought you a gift."

And he'd spent quite some time looking for it too.

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Jason came forward and dropped onto Dick's bed, holding out the bag. "Look."

Dick took the bag, looking rather suspicious. Tim leaned over, clearly hoping to have a good look.

"Oi, brat. Let him look," said Jason, rolling his eyes.

Tim sent him a scowl, but subsided, waiting impatiently.

Dick opened the bag and peered inside, before barking out a surprised laugh. "Jay, no."

"You said you wanted Power Rangers, I gave you Power Rangers," said Jason, shrugging.

Tim burst out into delighted laughter.

Dick grinned. "As pleased as I am to have the complete set of Power Rangers seasons, Jay, didn't you win our bet? Don't we have to watch Barney?"

Jason shook his head. "You won. So we're watching Power Rangers."

It wasn't entirely a lie. Jason hadn't had the chance to properly count how many he'd beaten versus Dick. He had a pretty good idea he'd won, but he'd had other priorities at the time.

Tim poked his head in between to look into the bag, then burst out in peals of laughter again.

Jason rolled his eyes and snatched the bag. "Now, we are going to watch Power Rangers from beginning to end. Deal with it."

Dick snickered as Jason put the first DVD in the player and turned on the TV. Grabbing the remote, Jason came and sat next to Dick on the bed, careful to avoid the IV still attached to Dick's arm. Tim snuggled closer into Dick's side.

Dick pulled him closer as the first episode started and Rita Repulsa burst out of her can on the moon. Tim sniggered at the sight.

As the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers' theme played, the door swung open and Cass padded in, her feet utterly silent.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Power Rangers fan, Cass?"

Cass grinned and slid under the blanket next to Tim, resting her head on his knee and watching as the scene opened with Jason Lee Scott. As the episode continued - growing steadily more and more ridiculous - Jason found himself drifting off to sleep. Dick glanced down at him and squeezed his shoulder.

"Sleep, Jay," he murmured. "It'll still be here when you wake up."

So Jason slept.