Jason was hard to get along with under normal circumstances since his return to Gotham so it was not at all surprising to Tim that he was even more difficult to be around in this current predicament. The man was fowl mouthed, rude, vicious, and uncaring most of the time.

Keyword being most.

The thing that really drove Tim crazy in his hazy state was how one moment Jason could be brash and unpredictable, in his face with a mouth that would have sailors running, and the in next he could be so quiet, unsure, and even at times almost sweet, all in such a short amount of time. It was hard to remember that Jason had only returned from his clash with Dick just over twenty-four hours ago…

Tim had admittedly been miserable. In his current situation it was hard to not be. Locked up in a concrete cage, chained to the wall, on a bare mattress, suffering from multiple injuries, with an infection and raging fever, the addition of no pain medication to ease any of the above made the world seem like a rather cruel place. He had been so hungry, having not eaten in days, and having only had water since the man's return.

He had refused to ask for food, had refused to talk at all in fact since their first conversation, even with Jason's constant attempts at provocation. But he hadn't even needed to ask as it had turned out… Jason knew, and thinking back, how could he not?

The man had provided sustenance without conflict.

Well, for the most part…

Jason had come into the dark chamber with a large coffee mug in hand and spoon in his pocket. He had approached the bed with no hesitation, had gotten down onto his knees, crawling onto the mattress with him, admittedly giving Tim a surge of fear not knowing what to expect and helpless to prevent whatever might come.

Poisoning perhaps?

But without explaining himself, Jason had scooted up beside him, slid a hand under his head, letting it fall to rest upon his thigh, and had placed the spoon in the coffee cup while he stared down at him scowling.

"If you bite me, I'll break your face with no hesitation, just warning you." He had huffed, before immediately shoving the contents of the cup down his throat via spoon none too gently.

Some kind of soup, thick and filling, and it dulled the hungered twisting in his chest that had building up for days. Unfortunately, the sudden feeling of being full had hit him with yet another wave of drowsiness, and if that hadn't been such a pattern for him over the course of the past few days he would have sworn that Jason had drugged him.

When he had awoken briefly hours later, Jason was still beside him on the bed, reading some book he had never bothered to glance at the title of, with his head still propped up on the man's thigh. Jason had acknowledged him momentarily, brushing some of the hair from his face before he had resumed reading, but had ignored him thereafter. When he had drifted off again quickly after and had awoken at a later time, the man had been gone.

He was absent for an obscene amount of time thereafter, and even when he had returned, he had not come to check on him. The only thing that had alerted him to his return had been the sound of slamming doors well beyond the outside of his cell.

Tim was both unnerved and glad about the lack of a functional clock… he didn't particularly want to know just how much time was passing between events.

The following days seemed no different

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

He hated the near never ending darkness he was being forced to live with. There was only light when Jason was present most of the time. Tim seriously wondered if the chamber he was trapped within had been constructed purely for him, or if Jason had had other plans initially. It was something he tried hard to not think about… unsure if he really wanted to know.

Though he seemed to do little more than sleep these days he found himself constantly tired, and Tim could not be sure if it was the lingering infection causing his fatigue, the minimal amount of food he was receiving, or if Jason really was drugging him. At this point he wouldn't put it past the man. It wasn't as though he could really taste the food Jason brought him from time to time anyway. His taste buds were off, the amount was never enough, and he had no way of knowing just how often he was actually eating. But he was sure that even at the worst of times over the years, wrapped up in a case he could not let go of, he had managed to remember to eat more than what Jason was force feeding him. Although the pain in his body was lessening, and the fever was gradually subsiding, he could feel his previously toned muscles weakening further.

It was all purposeful, he was sure of it. Jason was already so much larger, stronger… but he had always been faster, lither, smarter, enough so that he had always been able to hold his own against the man when he needed to. He was sure that as things stood being left with just his brain and none of his brawn would do him little good.

The intricate manacle around his ankle itched, and the heaviness was beyond uncomfortable, but any effort to sit up and adjust it was met with a burning pain that pulsed long after he had given up. The soreness in his limbs, and the headache he had held for days might have faded, but the wound on his sternum was still agitated and infected. He was glad that he was in no shape examine it on his own. It likely would have made him hurl with the wound's current state. As is he was sure it was going to leave a pretty noticeable scar.

As the days had gone on Tim could see the damage that had been done to Jason's psyche in the time since Bruce's death. Or rather, it may have been Bruce's last words to the man, cruel and blunt, digging up the past. More than likely it was the combo of the two that had sent him on the downward spiral.

Jason was outright bi-polar. He returned back to wherever it was that they were holed up each dawn after patrol a raging beast. Tim could only be thankful that most of the violence occurred outside of his chamber, not that he was at all spared completely. Jason never raised a hand to him in his sickened state, but the venom that leaked from the man's mouth felt just as brutal and he could not help but flinch as Jason tossed things around in frustration. More often than not he was still clad in his bat suit, but from time to time the cowl was absent, and Tim could see Jason's face, his eyes… and he could see just how stressed, pained, and panicked he was. It made him seem a touch more human despite the circumstances. Had he not been stuck as his prisoner he would have genuinely felt bad for the man, but it was hard to feel pity for someone holding him against his will, for someone that was intentionally breaking him down and making him weak.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jason was gone far longer than usual one night. Despite himself it managed to worry him, not only for his sake, but for Jason's. He had no way of knowing just how bad the city had gotten since his captivity had started. He hardly wanted to die trapped in his cell simply because Jason had met his end elsewhere. He didn't wish death on the man in general either. Jason needed a special sort of help, not a death sentence, and it was certainly not the first time since he released the man that he was regretting ever having let him out of prison.

After all, he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if he hadn't. He had no way of knowing how much damage Jason himself was doing to Gotham either, and he wondered how Dick and Babs were handling the hostile takeover… and how they were handling his supposed death.

He could do little more than stare at the ceiling lost in his thoughts.

Jason's eventual return was announced by loud bangs of slammed metal doors and the sound of breaking glass. It startled him and he had little time to prepare himself for the man's entrance.

He stormed into the room with a flurry of motion, movements so fast that the bat cape flapped behind him as he stomped, and nearly got caught in the door as it was flung shut. Jason ripped the cowl from his head once in and threw it onto the counter. He roughly ran a hand through his damp hair and exhaled sharply as he propped himself up against it.

Tim clenched his jaw as he eyed the man, unsure if he was about to have a blow up, or if he was going to calm down now that he was back at base.

In the end it was seemingly neither as Jason was practically vibrating and yet he had a partial smirk upon his face.

"Hnn…" he grunted, leaning back against the wall. "Dickie-bird's sure in a bad mood. He's quite angry with me for 'offing' you. See, he still thinks I blew you to pieces after our little scuffle when I torched the place. Intentional of course." He snorted, cocking his head at him.

"I…I see." And there was little he could say about that without having been there, though he had already seen how badly Dick reacted to deaths of those he cared about, and could imagine that Jason was not exaggerating in the slightest.

"Yeah… oh, I knew he'd be angry, several sorts of hurt even, and that he would never forgive me. But, he'd get over it in time- let the wound scar over. He won't kill me, won't break Daddy's golden rule, and he can't take me in either. Not if I own this city. It will be a lost cause. Letting him think you're nothing but ash ensures that he won't be looking for you- that you're all mine."

Tim sucked in a shaky breath and turned his head away from the man.

"I know you're upset. It's only natural. You have every right to be. But you'll understand eventually. After all, wasn't it you that said that Batman needs a Robin?" He murmured, and Tim tensed as a gloved hand suddenly combed through his hair, something that was quickly becoming a habit of Jason's since this had all started. "Things will be so much easier when you see sense. I promise."

And with that he was gone, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts, and a sandwich at the bedside he hadn't even seen placed there that he had little interest in touching.

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