#leather jacket over hoodie over body armor over whatevers underneath

[blusandbirds]

you know what i really do enjoy a jason suit design that gives him a hood over the helmet, but then let’s triple down and continue to have a domino mask underneath all that. love a boy who knows how to layer.

[bat-losers-inc]

Kintsugi: Chapter 1

Warnings: drug use, panic attacks

Summary: Final Crisis/Red Robin AU. Dick admits Tim to a psychiatric facility after Bruce is lost in time. Jason finds him suffering at the hands of a Scarecrow-copycat and breaks him out. While safe in Jason’s apartment, Tim still struggles with panic attacks and drug withdrawal. At a loss for what to do, Jason calls Roy Harper.

Pairings:  Jason Todd & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Roy Harper, Roy Harper & Jason Todd.

It had been a little more than a week since Jason had been locked out of Tim’s criminal database when he decided to stop waiting around for Tim to grant him access again. Screw being patient and playing nice. A week’s worth of increasingly less polite voicemails on Tim’s phone was evidence to how well that tactic had worked for Jason.

So, Jason decided to fall back on the more tried and true tactic of breaking and entering. If he couldn’t get Tim to return his calls, Jason would just have to corner him into a conversation. This was how Jason found himself prying open the window to Tim’s apartment in the early evening hours and slipping inside.

He straightened up as his boots made contact with the wood floor of Tim’s living room and glared around in confusion when neither fists nor any audible alarms greeted his arrival. Strange.

“Hey, Tim. You here?” But a quick check of all of the rooms in Tim’s apartment told Jason he wasn’t.

Jason contemplated leaving and searching the streets, though he hadn’t heard Red Robin over the comms for a few days. He stared longingly at Tim’s desk where his laptop rested open, the screen turned matte by a thin layer of dust. He really couldn’t afford to wait around on Tim with his street cred going down the toilet.

“Ah, screw it.” He sat in Tim’s desk chair and got to work on cracking the password. Four tries later saw Jason rummaging around in Tim’s desk drawers hoping he’d left some password clue so that Jason wouldn’t getting locked out for another incorrect attempt. It was a waste of time since Jason knew Tim was too smart to ever write down a password.

A reminder scribbled on a sticky note to do laundry before he ran out of clean underwear?

Sure.

But a password to help his dear older brother?

Of course not.

“Jeez, all of this because the kid doesn’t have a sense of humor. You set your brother up as the fall guy for one of your murders. Just once. Just as a joke! And then he kicks you out of his network and you’re left with your excel spreadsheet of crime syndicates that hasn’t been updated in months. And then you go shake some answers out of Penguin’s number two guy, only to find out that that guy got locked up by GCPD two months ago. And then you have to settle for getting answers from Penguin’s shit-for-brains cousin, Larry.” Jason slammed the final drawer closed, “Fucking Larry.”

Jason spun around in Tim’s desk chair, going over his options once again. He’d sooner break into the Batcave and risk running into Dick and Damian than subject himself to updating his own old-school records. Jason’s eyes landed on the Star Trek poster mounted on the wall across from him. He halted his spinning as realization struck him. “Oh, you beautiful, beautiful, nerd.”

He pulled the framed poster off the wall and flipped it around, searching for the clips that locked it in place. A small piece of paper the size of a business card dropped onto Jason’s boot as he freed the backing from its frame. He snatched it up and logged into Tim’s laptop.

Jason was in the process of closing out of Tim’s records, having already sent a copy to himself, when a notification in the corner caught his eye. He clicked into it and was surprised to see it was a message Tim had sent to himself. Or was it?

Jason read over the message again.

Find my iphone.

User: T.drake007@gmail.com

Pass: Batcow

He had a tracking device built into his suit if he needed someone to find his location. But if he was in his civvies…

Jason pulled his own phone free of his jacket pocket and signed into Tim’s account. As the map narrowed in on Tim’s last location, Jason was already out the window and climbing up the fire escape.“Whatever this wild goose chase is, kid, I really hope I don’t find your dead body at the end of it.”

Jason checked the pinned location on his phone once more and then stared across at the glowing letters on the Breckenridge Psychiatric Hospital sign again. Of all of the places Jason expected Tim to be hiding out in while in his civvies, a mental hospital in Bludhaven didn’t even make the list. It filled Jason with an uneasy feeling.

He decided to play it safe to start off with and removed his domino mask, slipping it into the pocket of his leather jacket which he zipped up tight to cover his body armor hidden underneath. He made his way to the front doors, wrestling with his anxiety the entire way there. After all... things had been more than a little crazy with Bruce dying, Damian replacing Tim as Robin, and Tim moving on to his new identity as Red Robin. It wasn’t impossible that Tim had checked himself in for a bit, though there was a nasty notion floating around the back of Jason’s head that this whole situation reeked of Dick’s smothering sort of concern.  

Jason asked for Alvin Draper at the receptionist desk, Tim’s go-to undercover identity.

The nurse behind the reception station replied in a tone that suggested she was reading off doctor’s notes from her computer. “Mr. Draper was recently moved to the Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit after exhibiting violent behavior against the hospital staff. His visitation privileges have been temporarily suspended until his psychologist believes he is no longer a harm to himself or others.”

Jason blinked hard at that one. “Violent behavior against the staff? I think there’s got to be a mistake here. What medical reason did T—uh, Alvin give when he checked himself into the facility.”

“Mr. Draper didn’t check himself in. A family member petitioned for it to prevent further destructive behaviors to his person and the public.”

The public, Jason mentally rolled his eyes. He’s 130 lbs dripping wet. What’s the worst he could do?

Still, if Tim was here against his will, this didn’t bode well for the situation within the family and Tim’s emotional state at the moment. Jason slumped against the receptionist’s station, not believing what he was hearing and wanting nothing more than to bang his forehead against the table top. “Wait… so you’re telling me he’s here on involuntary psych hold?”

“Okay. Okay,” Jason couldn’t figure out when Tim’s well-being had become such a serious issue for Jason, but suddenly here he was acting like the kid’s lawyer. “Well, when did he get committed? Psych holds are usually only for a few days and then the issue has to be brought up against a judge, right?”

“Shouldn’t you know all this already, hon? I thought you said you were a friend of the family. Do you want me to call the person of contact and see if they can come down and explain the situation?”

Jason could sense the motherly concern in her voice. He was trying to fly under the radar on this and having the nurse take an interest in him was not the way to do that. He’d draw too much attention to himself and to ‘Alvin Draper’ and that was the last thing Jason needed, but it wasn’t entirely useless.

“No, no. That’s okay,” Jason waved off the question. “Look… If I can’t talk to him, could you at least pass on a gift to him from me?”

The nurse opened her mouth, an objection clearly in the making. Jason beat her to the punch as he pulled a paperback book free of his backpack. “It’s just a book. No lewd images or anything like that. I promise.”

He watched the woman sigh and fiddle with the pen she held. As he figured, that motherly concern was still lingering in the air. She’d feel too heartless to deny him entirely. “Fine. Take a seat and I’ll let you know if it passes the security check.”

Jason flashed her his best smile and perched on the edge of a waiting room chair. Thank God I was expecting a stakeout and brought something to read.

“What’s your name, hon?” She wiggled the book held in her hand. “For your friend.”

“Tell him it’s from John D. He’ll know who I am.” He replied as the woman made ready to stand up.

As the nurse left for the security desk, Jason skimmed his eyes across the signs for the PICU wing and walked out the main doors. It looked like John Doe would have to return Alvin Draper’s favor and stage a prison break of his own.

Jason walked around the entire hospital two times, once in a tight perimeter to check for  possible points of entry on the grounds and parking garage level, and once more in a wider circle to evaluate the upper floors. He stopped back at his apartment to refill his backpack with supplies, shed his hoodie and don his helmet. Then he was out the door.

Jason scaled a drainpipe up to the floor where the Psych ICU was located and slide in through a cracked window in the staff break room. It wasn’t exactly easy to walk around a hospital in body armor and a red helmet unnoticed, even on the night shift when most of the nurses were getting a head start on  their paperwork. So Jason had timed his break-in at the same time as a new admittee, whose arrival came with a police and paramedic escort. All he had to do was wait as a huddle of nurses rushed passed his hiding spot for the elevator before he could walk freely into the PICU, using the ID card he’d swiped off a sleeping attendant while waiting.

The unit was sparsely populated in comparison to the general psych unit, with all of the patients closed off from each other behind locked doors in their own private rooms. Jason glanced through the window of each door until he found a patient who actually returned his stare. The kid, probably a boy all of fifteen, startled back at the sight of him, but seemed to recover when he realized the Red Hood wasn’t after him.

“Hey, you know which room Alvin Draper is in?”

The kid slid off his bed and walked up to the door. He scratched at the patchy beginnings of facial hair that covered his chin and neck. “Draper?”

“Yeah,” Jason held a hand up to his chin. “Around this high, seventeen, brown hair. Speaks with a know-it-all kind of voice that makes you want to punch him in the face.”

The boy’s face lit up with recognition. “Oh yeah, the misdiagnosed guy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, when he first arrived he told me his name was Alvin. Seemed pretty normal for a paranoid guy. Then a few days after he starts seeing his psychiatrist, he has a panic attack in the common room and makes me promise to call him Tim. Says he’s not really Alvin Draper. Don’t know how the doctors missed such an obvious case of dissociative identity disorder.”

Oh shit. Jason just hoped that was the only thing Tim told this kid. If he had let his real identity slip under all the meds in here, the least of their problems would be dealing with reporters asking what made Tim Drake crack.

“So, where can I find him?”

“Basement level, down in the old wing of the hospital. Nobody’s used it for years— fire code violations or some shit— but Dr. Keselman uses it for the clinical sleep trial he’s working on.”

“Thanks.”

Jason turned to walk away.

“Hey! Wait, wait!” The kid tapped urgently on the door’s surface to get his attention.

Jason turned back, raising an eyebrow under his mask even though he knew the younger boy couldn’t see it. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could get a letter to someone for me?”

“No ‘cause I’m not a fucking mailman.”

“No, just hear me out for a sec—”

Jason sighed. “Sure. I’ve only broken into a psych ward. Not like I’m on a time crunch.”

“It’s to my kid sister, man. They don’t let us keep our phones in here and my mom won’t answer any of my letters or bring her to visit me.”

Jason groaned. “Alright, hurry up. Slide it under the door.”

The kid flashed a smile and did as told. “I always thought you were cool. Scary… but cool.”

He was in the process of picking the letter off the ground when he noticed another girl waving a piece of paper at him in the window.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jason glanced back through the windows that looked into the general ward, checking that the halls were still clear for the moment. He took the risk and raised his voice to be heard down to the end of the line of rooms.

“Alright, everyone with a letter slide it under the door.”

He hurried back and forth across the hall and gathered the letters into one gloved hand. Then jabbed a finger at a few of the kids closest to him. “I’m making no promises about these, but I’ll try. Also, stay out of trouble and only do the drugs you’re prescribed.”

He slipped the stack of letters into his jacket pocket and hurried down the stairs towards the basement. “Yeah, I’m a real terror on the streets of Gotham. If I get any more like B I think I might just barf.”

He really couldn’t find Tim soon enough.

[imjustthemechanic]

Our Own Demons

Part 1/? - A Bolt from the Blue Part 2/? - A Different World Part 3/? - Stark At Home Part 4/? - Pot Roast Night Part 5/? - Space-Pie Continuum Part 6/? - Energy Signature Part 7/? - Miss Potts Part 8/? - Bot from Beyond Part 9/? - Even the Odds Part 10/? - Miss Potts Arrives Part 11/? - Truth Hurts Part 12/? - The Third Reality Part 13/? - Thor and Odinson

What if Tony Stark really were the villain of the Marvel universe?  How would that work?  Tony himself is about to find out, as he battles his inner demons (and some outer ones, too) across a multiverse of infinite possibilities.

Getting in touch with this mysterious Thor who was not Odin’s son was evidently a job for the ladies. Miss Potts, Dr. Ross, and Director Hill gathered at one end of the room to make some phone calls, leaving Tony and his double at the other end of the table.

“You never mentioned how you’re doing,” the other said suddenly.

“Hmm?”  Tony looked at him.  The other man was munching on a muffin from a box in the middle of the table, and eyeing Tony with what appeared to be suspicion.

“You’re a little banged-up, yourself,” he pointed out.

“I know.”  Tony rubbed a line of scratches on his arm.  He’d seen his reflection in the mirror that morning: scrapes and cuts everywhere, a split lip and a collection of bruises that were doubtless going to turn all sorts of fascinating colours over the next week or so.  Even the oldest of his own suits were better at protecting the wearer than the Proof of Concept, but that very name was enough to tell Tony that the suit had never been intended for use in combat.  Besides, Tony’s physical condition wasn’t all that important to him. Not when he’d been here two days, with no way to know what was happening back in his own reality.

“Well?” the other prompted.

Tony shrugged.  “I’ve had worse, too.”

“I figured,” said the other.  “Good to know some things don’t change.  Spending the night with Miss Potts probably helped, too.”

Tony blinked, then shook his head.  “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he assured him.  “I just explained to her what was happening and then we both went to bed.  She slept on the sofa, I took the armchair.”

“So you didn’t…?” the other raised an eyebrow.

“Of course not,” Tony snorted.  “She’s not my Miss Potts.  I did drop a hint or two…”

“No.”  The other held up a hand.  “Stop right there.  I don’t want to hear about it ever again.”

“You’re really surly today,” Tony observed. “Is it pain or jealousy or what?”

“It’s when-did-this-bullshit-become-my-life, that’s what it is,” said the other.

“You should see my life,” Tony told him.  “You wanna come visit when we’re done?”

“No.”

“I’ll let you drive my R8,” Tony suggested.

“I think I’m okay,” the other told him.

There were several seconds of silence.  Tony decided to change the subject.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said.

“That’s dangerous,” his double drawled.

It was, wasn’t it?  Thinking led to building, and building, at least where Tony was concerned, tended to lead to thinks blowing up and people dying.  It seemed to be a genetic Stark trait, at least in Tony’s own reality.  He didn’t say that aloud, though.  “I’ve been wondering what somebody from another universe would be doing that would kick me out of mine.”

The other cocked his head.  “You think somebody from Reality B was trying to get in, and they had to move you out of the way.”

“Great minds think alike.”  Tony nodded.  This was either the best or worst possible situation to apply that phrase to, and he had no idea which.

“But fools rarely differ,” the other noted.  “What’s in your reality that somebody from another one would want?  It can’t be the tesseract because he’s obviously got one of those.”

That was a more difficult question.  The tesseract was the most powerful thing Tony knew of, and the only one that came to mind as worth crossing dimensions for.  Other than that… “I don’t know,” he said.  “My reality just had some bad stuff go down in it, but from what little I saw that seemed to be strictly local.  Seeing as he was specifically gunning for us with that robot, it’s got to be something one of us would have.”  More likely Tony himself, for the simple reason that he had more stuff.  “I don’t know what I have that another one of me would want to take away.”

The other snorted with cynical laughter.  “Money, power, and the woman of your dreams all come to mind,” he observed.

Tony twitched.  His counterpart was just being a jerk, trying to come up with something that would hurt as much as you just broke her heart, but the idea of another him somehow harming Pepper made him feel downright sick.  The alternate could just walk in and say hello, and Pepper would have no way of knowing she shouldn’t trust him until it was too late.  He had to physically shake his head and arms to clear the awful mental picture.  It didn’t make sense anyway, Tony told himself. What would an alternate version of himself gain from that?

Any man who would deliberately hurt Pepper wasn’t Tony Stark, he thought.  Even if he looked like him, even if he had the suits and all the other trimmings, wishing harm to Pepper was the deal-breaker that would make him unworthy of the name.

He realized that the other was looking at him, and had seen his terrified expression and his violent frisson.  “I’m sorry,” the other said.

“I…”  Tony licked his lips.  “Yeah, I’m sorry, too.”  Did the other realize what he was apologizing for?  Did it matter?  “Anyway, the guy who built the robot must have had money, too.  That contraption would have cost more than some people’s yearly salary – and when I say some people I’m not talking about the ones who serve coffee for a living.”

“Just because he’s got money doesn’t mean he’s got the other stuff,” his double said.

“But he could get it in his own universe,” Tony said. If he’d wanted more money, more power, or more women, he certainly wouldn’t have had to go to another reality to find them.  He probably wouldn’t even have to get up off the couch.  “Maybe when I get back, I can ask him.” Whatever it was, it had to be something the bad guy knew, or at least believed, that Tony would fight for.

Maybe what he wanted was the world itself.  Maybe something awful had happened in his. Maybe the Chi’Tauri had taken over. Maybe SHIELD had nuked New York. Maybe what he wanted wasn’t to get in to Tony’s reality, but to get out of his own.

“You know, we don’t know for sure that it’s another one of us,” the other said.

“Yeah, we do,” said Tony.  Nobody knew Iron Man well enough to build that robot, except for Tony himself.

“No, we don’t,” said the other.  “Not until we meet him.  Not everything’s about you, you know.”

“Okay, now you sound like Captain America,” said Tony.

“Who?” asked the other.

“Forget it,” Tony shook his head.

It was towards evening when JANIS’ voice spoke up: Hey, Tony and other Tony, Miss Potts wanted me to let you know that Thor and the Odinson just arrived on the helipad.  She’d like you to come back up to the conference room to meet with them.

Tony’s double was working on the broken suit – he’d fished the pieces out of the barrel of saline and was now taking them apart, pulling out whatever moving parts seemed salvageable.  He hadn’t looked like he wanted help and so Tony hadn’t offered. He’d spent a lot of the day lying on the sofa playing useless little games on his counterpart’s phone, and had become very good at slicing computer-generated fruit in half but he felt lazy and unwanted.

When the announcement came on, Tony’s double jumped a little, dropping a tool that clattered on the floor.  That, in turn, startled Tony, who dropped the phone.  It hit the concrete floor, and the screen cracked.

“Whoops,” said Tony.  “I’ll pay for that.”

“No, you won’t,” said the other firmly.  “Come on, let’s get up there.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you wanted to get rid of me,” Tony observed.  “I wanna meet this Thor who isn’t Odin’s son.”  He still wasn’t quite sure how that worked.

Five minutes later, he found out.  When they walked into the conference room, the women were already there – and so was possibly the most intimidating couple Tony had ever seen.

The one he would have identified as Thor, but who was evidently not, was the man.  He wore his hair long with a short beard, and was dressed in street clothes: a green t-shirt, a black hoodie, jeans, and a denim jacket.  He could have walked down a street and nobody would have taken a second look except possibly to observe that he was obnoxiously tall and good-looking, were it not for the fact that he was carrying a gigantic battleaxe across his shoulders.  Tony wondered if he needed a permit for that. Maybe he didn’t.  It definitely wasn’t a concealed weapon.

The one who must’ve actually been Thor was the woman.  She, too, was absurdly tall, nearly six foot, but where Odinson was built like a weightlifter, she had the lean, wiry body of a sprinter.  She was dressed in armor and leather, with a long red cape and a helmet that covered the top half of her face.  Her flowing brown hair spilled out from underneath this down her back, moving as if in a breeze, and in her right hand was the implement that made her Thor – the hammer.

“My ladies, Virginia, Elizabeth, and Maria,” Odinson greeted the women.  “Always a pleasure to have your company.”

“Thank you, Odinson,” said Miss Potts with a warm smile. She shook his hand.

“I must apologize for our lateness,” he added.  “The Nine Realms are full of turmoil.”

“You’ve got your priorities,” Miss Potts assured him.

The woman, meanwhile, approached the door to greet Tony and his counterpart.  “Which one of you is the real Mr. Stark?” she asked. The helmet gave her voice a lot of reverb – or maybe it was just the fact that she was a goddess.

Tony was about to say that he was, but at the last moment he remembered that by the standards of this reality, that wasn’t true. “He is,” he said.  “I’m apparently cousin Arno from Italy.”

“And you two successfully created an Einstein-Rosen bridge with another universe?” asked Thor, leaning closer to them.

Under the echo, there was something awfully familiar about her voice.  “It wasn’t intentional,” said Tony.  “The first time, I kind of just got caught in one.”

“And the second, somebody else made it in an attempt to kill us,” said the other.

“But that’s incredible!” the woman exclaimed.  She set the hammer down on the table and pulled her helmet off – and before Tony’s eyes, the rest of the armor melted away, leaving behind a tiny, enthusiastically smiling woman wearing an oversized sweater and leggings.  It was Jane Foster.

In that moment he remembered what the Thor of his reality had said the inscription on Mjolnir meant: whosoever holds this hammer, should he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.  In a world where Pepper was Iron Woman and Betty Ross was the Hulk, of course Dr. Foster was worthy.

“I mean,” she went on, plopping herself down across from the two men, “we’re talking about actually getting two parallel layers of higher-dimensional spacetime to connect with each other – under normal circumstances, brane theory suggests that’s a cataclysm, and somebody out there is just popping robots through it like it’s nothing!”

Tony glanced at his counterpart for any sign that this situation was weird.  He saw none. It seemed that Dr. Foster popping in and out of Thor mode to fangirl about science was just how she rolled.

“I don’t know if I’d say like it’s nothing,” said the other.

“I’m sure there was some effort involved,” Tony agreed. “But I need to get back to my own reality before anybody I know there gets hurt.”

“And I need him out of mine before he ruins my life,” said the other.

“He says that as if he has a life,” Tony said.

The other glared at him.  “We’ve got kind of an idea how it works, but we need the tesseract.”

Dr. Foster nodded.  “Odinson!  Did you hear that?”

“I did,” he replied, looking up from his conversation with the women.  “My father will be loath to grant access to it, after what happened the last time mortals made use of it.”

“And the time before that,” said Hill.

“You can ask really nicely?” Tony said.  “The fate of entire universes may be at stake here.”

“I shall do my best,” the Odinson promised.  “Jane, would you be so good as to summon the Bifrost for me?”

“Always happy to,” said Dr. Foster.

[my-one-love-is-music]

It Takes Two Ch. 15

So it's been a while, hasn't it? *nervous chuckling*

I was very busy finishing up the end of the semester and with graduation. But I've been back on a regular update schedule for the past two weeks and I'm hoping to keep things that way for now.

Hope you enjoy the chapter! We're finally getting back to some action hehe.

Also on AO3!

Tim frowned at his files. He hadn’t looked at them in days and had been considering them less and less, but now that he was leaning back against Jason’s chest on the couch with the remains of their breakfast dishes around them, his mind was finally unfocused enough to consider their scientist again.

“What’s got your good mood going south so fast, Babybird?” Jason asked, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

“Just,” he waved his hand at his computer, “all of this. The more I think about what’s been going on with these experiments, the more I realize how little is being done about this right now. It shouldn’t be taking this long to track down Robert Anderson. There can’t be that many people in this city with that name, even if he is keeping a low profile and trying not to leave a paper trail. There has to be something.”

He growled and ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. Jason covered his hands before he could do much damage and slowly rubbed circles into them to ease out the tension and the threat of ripping his hair out.

“We can get this fixed,” Jason murmured. “And I have an idea of just what we can do.”

Tim stilled in his hold, smile pulling at his lips. He looked over his shoulder at Jason behind him. “I’m sensing something brewing that Bruce wouldn’t approve of.”

Jason’s grin was sharp. “And you’d be right.”

Tim wiggled out of his hold and set his laptop on the coffee table next to the plates and cups. He turned and crossed his legs, eagerly waiting for Jason’s explanation.

“Well?” he prodded.

“Now that I’m all healed, I think it’s about time we go patrolling again.”

“You’re joking.”

Jason shook his head.

“Okay, not joking. How do you expect us to pull this off when Bruce is going to have eyes on us all the time.”

“Who said we had to do this without him knowing?”

“So you’re looking to start a fight?” Tim asked. “And risk getting dragged all the way back to the Manor?”

Jason’s grin died a little at the mention of being dragged to the Manor, but he straightened. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take as long as I’ve got you there with me. Besides, he can’t really force us to do anything. We’re legally adults, and I’m legally dead so I don’t think him suing his dead son in court is really going to hold up all that much.”

“Unless he’s trying to plead himself insane,” Tim muttered.

Jason chuckled. “And we all know that the last thing Batman needs is to be locked up in Arkham with all the people he put there.”

“Batman aside, everyone would want to make pretty boy Brucie their bitch,” Tim added.

Jason stared at him for a minute. “Where have you been hiding your sass for so long? How has no one been murdered because of this yet?”

Tim’s grin was sharp. “Now where would the fun be in letting everyone in on my little secrets?” he asked, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulders.

“Where indeed?” Jason agreed, pulling Tim more firmly against him and forcing him out of his cross-legged position. They slid down on the couch, Tim pillowed on Jason’s chest and he felt twin tendrils of warmth spread through his chest.

“What are we going to do until tonight then?” Tim sighed.

“Lay around on the couch. Do what we usually do and watch movies. Order pizza,”  Jason suggested.

“We can’t keep ordering pizza.”

“Sure we can!” Jason said, reaching over for the remote. “The vigilante lifestyle is great for keeping the waist trim.”

“Yeah, it’ll just add high cholesterol to our already high blood pressure.”

“No one’s blood pressure is ever going to be as high as B’s,” Jason said, smiling down at Tim.

“And it’s going to be entirely our fault.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth. Now,” he said, flicking on the T.V., “what are you in the mood to watch?”

Tim shrugged and hid his smile in Jason’s chest. “Whatever’s on. I’m just looking to kill time until tonight when I can finally suit up again.”

“You and me both.” Jason shifted underneath him and dropped a hand on Tim’s hip, thumb rubbing into his side. He started flicking through the channels, bypassing the news stations and the boring weekend shows that played in the mornings as they searched for something that was actually good to watch.

~~

“Jason stop,” Tim said as he tried to pull on his uniform.

Jason wrapped his arms around Tim from behind and lifted his feet from the ground. He was only dressed in his cargo pants and boots and hadn’t even strapped his leg holsters on yet. Tim had to keep from staring when he caught sight of his symbol on Jason’s chest because that was still something he wasn’t used to seeing. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be used to seeing it.

His stomach fluttered happily at both the sight of his symbol and at having Jason behind him. Jason pressed his lips to the back of his neck lightly enough to tickle and Tim squirmed in his hold.

“Come on, Jason.”

“Come on, yourself,” Jason said. “It’s still early and we probably want to wait a little bit for them to get out so they don’t notice our presence right away. It’s better if B’s in the middle of his patrol when we show up. Besides, I think it’s better if we head to an area where our lovely little scientist friend might be hanging out.”

Tim fought to turn in Jason’s hold even as his feet were hanging off the ground. Once Jason realized he wasn’t trying to break out of his hold, he helped him. Tim wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist, the top half of his uniform hanging below him from where it was connected to the waist of his pants. He wrapped one arm around Jason’s shoulders and carded the fingers of his other hand through Jason’s hair.

Jason’s eyes drooped at the sensation and he grinned. “Keep doing that and I’m not going to let you go at all.”

Tim paused. “That doesn’t sound so bad, but…we have somewhere we need to be.” He dropped his legs from Jason’s waist and the pull of gravity brought him to the ground. He ducked out of the circle of Jason’s arms and grabbed the top of his suit, sliding his arms into the sleeves.

Jason sighed and watched him before he snatched his undershirt from the dresser. He slipped it over his head and grabbed the plates of his body armor, carefully fastening them around his torso to avoid pinching his skin.

Tim pulled the zipper up and reached for his cape, clipping it to his shoulders before slipping his utility belt around his waist to secure over his hips. Almost subconsciously, his fingers brushed over his hip where Jason’s mark was hidden underneath the Kevlar. Jason tried to grab him as he moved to pull on his boots, but he slipped out of reach with a chuckle.

He heard the clicks of Jason’s holsters behind him and looked over his shoulder to find Jason shaking out his leather jacket. Tim smiled and grabbed their domino masks, passing the red one to Jason who took the chance to pull him against his chest. He pressed a kiss to Tim’s cheek making him squirm in his hold.

“You’re such a dork,” he said, holding up the domino to Jason.

“Not my problem.” He plucked the domino from Tim’s fingers and placed it over his eyes and slipped his helmet on after, locking the clasps into place.

Tim put his own domino on and slipped his hands into gauntlets. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the muscles loosen up. He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “Ready?” he asked.

“Of course,” Jason said. “Let’s go kick some ass.”

They shut off the lights in Tim’s apartment and slipped out of the window, climbing up the fire escape to stand on the roof as a breeze ruffled Tim’s cape. The sky was covered with thick clouds that smothered what little light managed to break through the pollution hanging in the sky.

Tim sprinted to the edge of the building and fired his grapple, flying from his building to the next. Jason caught up to him quickly.

“Do you even have any idea where you’re going?” Jason asked as they jumped the gap between one roof to the next, their boots making gravel skid in front of them.

“Nope,” Tim said, cheerfully. “I figure that we can head to the Narrows and see if there’s any suspicious vans around abducting people. It might give us a chance to see if Anderson is back to kidnapping new test subjects.”

“You got it,” Jason said, quickly changing direction to head to the worse part of town.

“Want to split up so that we can cover more territory?” Tim asked.

“Is that the best idea when we should be watching each other’s backs because of the whole possibly getting crippled by each other’s pain thing?”

Tim sighed. “This is going to be tedious.”

“Never said it wasn’t,” he agreed.

“Better get started before we get stopped.”

Jason pulled ahead of Tim on the rooftops and Tim pushed himself to stay with him. It felt thrilling to be running again. He hadn’t realized just how cooped up he’d been in his apartment without much to do besides laying around inside and doing schoolwork and anything else that might catch his attention. At this rate, he was already itching to get into a fight, the first dredges of adrenaline dumped into his system at the thought of beating someone up with his bo.

“Someone looks happy,” Jason said as Tim pulled up next to him.

Tim grinned and chuckled a little breathlessly. “I forgot about how great it was to be out on the rooftops.”

Jason laughed. “Me too.”

They skidded to a stop at the edge of the Narrows, looking down onto the dimly lit streets around them. The curtains were drawn on the surrounding buildings or windows were darkened, either to keep suspicion of would be criminals away from them or because they couldn’t afford to pay the electric bill to keep the lights on.

The streets were devoid of cars and Tim spotted one person in a black hoodie huddled in a darkened doorway. There was one other person several blocks down that was at the edge of an alley smoking a cigarette. Tim was surprised they were taking the risk since there wasn’t any traffic on the streets.

“We should go east and circle the edge of the narrows,” Tim suggested.

“There’s more likely going to be people out on the edges since they feel safer and anyone who’s picking up people is going to have an easier escape route without attracting attention or retribution from the other members of the Narrows,” Jason added.

“If there’s anyone that would willingly defend someone who’s being abducted,” Tim muttered.

Jason hummed his agreement and fired his grapple to the next building. They were in a more rundown area, but things weren’t crumbling so it was still safe to grapple through the streets.

Tim kept an eye on the streets as they moved further through the buildings. There were a couple alleys where hooded figures were huddled, some of them were homeless, Tim was sure others were peddling drugs, and more than one mugger was waiting for a victim to pass by.

Jason paused when they reached a cross street and Tim perched beside him. There was a black van on the street. It looked beat up and Tim was sure if they could see clearly, the sides where it was dented would have paint scratches and rust covering it. To anyone else it wouldn’t look like it was moving at anything other than a normal pace, but in reality the drivers were no doubt surveying the sidewalks and alleys for anyone that was nearby.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jason asked.

“Yup,” Tim said.

Jason rubbed his gloved hands together. “What do you say we go in with a bang?”

“Don’t kill anyone yet,” Tim said, reaching to stop him as he aimed his grapple.

“I was thinking of dropping in on their van instead,” he said, firing his grapple and jumping from the roof.

Tim watched as he expertly swung over the street and loosened and retracted his grapple once he was suspended just in front of the van. The drop from gravity brought him down on the hood of the van, it’s wheels screeching as it swerved from the sudden surprise. Jason kept his balance with the movement and pulled out his gun, aiming at whoever was inside the van.

It braked harshly and Tim took the chance to fire his grapple and swing down next to it. He pulled his bo from his belt and extended it with a flick of his wrist. He looked through the side window and found two rough looking men seated in the car.

Jason squatted on the hood and waved his gun to the side, signaling the driver and passenger to climb out. They each put one of their hands up, moving to push the doors open with their other hands.

Tim saw Jason move first. He jumped backwards off the hood of the van before the men pulled out guns. The driver aimed a shot that broke the windshield, but Jason dodged. Tim spun out of the way, flattening himself against the side of the van. He swung his bo and smashed the window of the van. Glass tinkled to the ground and Tim didn’t give the gunman a chance to aim before he was shoving the edge of his bo through the window, using the side mirror to get a clear shot to his temple.

The driver shoved his door open and slipped out, but he didn’t make it a step before Jason aimed a shot at his leg. He yelled before crashing to the pavement, clutching at his leg with one hand while still aiming with his other. Jason blindly aimed around the side of the van and fired off a shot. He heard it skid against the pavement and cursed under his breath.

Tim ignored it and wrenched the door of the van open, pulling the disoriented passenger from the van and shoving him onto the road. He pressed his boot against the back of his hand that was holding the gun until his grip loosened. Tim kicked it to the side and bent to tie the guy’s hands behind his back. A bullet skidded past him and he jumped back.

“Hood get the gun from that other shooter,” Tim grit out. “He’s shooting under the van.”

“Shit,” he cursed.

The guy in front of Tim was already trying to reach for the gun he’d knocked out of his hand. He used the extended reach of his bo and shoved the gun further out of reach before whacking him on the side of the head. He groaned and slumped against the ground.

Tim turned and searched for a hold on the side of the van to pull himself up on the roof, but a pained yell sounded before he could.

“Fucking piece of shit,” Jason muttered.

“Fuck you,”  the other guy spat.

“I’ve already got someone ten times hotter than you to do that for me.”

Tim bit his lip to stop the laugh from spilling from his lips. He sighed, finally letting his shoulders relax. He pulled a tie from his belt and knelt over the body in front of him, securing his hands behind his back. He grabbed the back of his jacket and dragged him around the van to where Jason as struggling to get the other guy tied up.

He sighed and smacked him on the side of the head, making him still long enough to secure his hands, one of which was bleeding, behind his back. Tim dropped his catch at Jason’s feet.

“Fucking vigilantes.”

Tim rolled his eyes.

“Shut it,” Jason growled. He knelt in front of the other guy who glared at him. “Now, you’re going to tell us what you’re doing prowling around the edge of the narrows.”

“I’m not going to tell you shit.”

Jason sighed. “Looks like this isn’t going to end well with you. Red, you might want to look away.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You don’t hurry it up and I’ll do it myself. I’m going to check out the van.”

The guy stilled on the ground and looked back at Tim sharply.

“Oooh so you don’t like that, do you?” Jason asked. He gripped the guy’s black hair and turned his head back towards him. “I guess we should see what’s behind door number one.”

Tim slipped around the back and grabbed the handles of the doors. They pulled open easily and he shoved the doors open, surprised they hadn’t been locked.

“What kind of bad guys don’t keep the back of their van locked?” he muttered. His eyes widened when his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness within.

Muffled screams met his ears and he caught sight of two teenagers tied up and gagged on the floor. There was an array of tools and weapons attached to the sides of the van.

“Well, Red?” Jason asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“We’ve got two abductees tied up back here. It’s time he starts talking,” Tim spat.

“No, wait!”

“Shut it,” Jason said. “No one wants to hear your protests. The only thing we care about is information and you might as well give it to us before we get you locked up or send you six feet under if I’m not feeling so generous.”

Tim stepped up into the van and crouched in front of the boy who was staring at him with wide eyes. He reached forward and eased the duct tape off his mouth, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he immediately started saying.

“Shh,” Tim said, gently. “Can you tell me what happened to you? How long have you been back here?”

He shook his head. “I got picked up earlier tonight, grabbed from the sidewalk and beat around before they tied me up and shoved tape over my mouth to keep me quiet.”

Tim nodded. A pained yell sounded from beside the van and the boy flinched back.

“It’s okay. We’re just taking care of the guys who kidnapped you. Do you know what they wanted with you?”

He shook his head, eyeing the doors of the van behind Tim.

“Okay,” Tim said and reached for the tape over the girl’s mouth. She immediately screamed and Tim clapped a hand over her mouth. “Please calm down,” he sighed. “You’re going to be safe but we can’t have a lot of attention drawn to us. Can you keep quiet for now?”

She stared at him with wide eyes before nodding quickly. Tim carefully removed his hand, waiting for any sign she might scream again, but she kept silent.

“What happened to you?” Tim asked.

“I was grabbed on a street corner. I didn’t really know what was happening until I was tied up and thrown in the back of this van,” she explained, voice low.

Tim nodded. “Did they say anything strange to you? Maybe to hint at why they were taking you?”

She shook her head. “They didn’t really say anything to me other than that I should keep quiet and they wouldn’t hurt me.”

Tim nodded and opened his mouth to say something else.

A loud crack sounded outside of the van before a scream sounded. Tim sighed and backed off the two teenagers.

“Excuse me for a minute,” he said, stepping out of the van. He swung around the side and found Jason with his boot on the leg of the driver.

Tim sighed and shook his head, rubbing his fingers against his temple.

“What?” Jason asked. “What did I do?”

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