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Waking up under a collapsed building was not fun, but at least he’d woken up.
Tim sucked in a breath before starting to cough on dust, because of course. What the hell had happened? He’d been on a business run--- He was making a public appearance to check on one of the new engineering buildings for Wayne Industries. There’d been press, crowds, the whole shebang. Maybe someone had had a grudge; slipped past with dynamite. No way had the building fallen all on its own; Tim had designed those blueprints himself---
Hearing his coughs echo back made Tim question reality. The out-of-sync experience ended as soon as he realized it was a whole other person. Someone was trapped with him? He thought he’d shoved the nearest people clear of the sinkhole. This might as well get worse. “Hello?”
“Agh,” an answering voice groaned. “Fuck.”
Tim’s heart did a weird somersault in his chest. On the one hand, that was Jason Todd’s voice. Jason Todd was very bad for Tim’s physical health. Just, in general. On the plus side, though, Tim wasn’t alone. That… sort of made this better. “Wait, did you blow us up?”
“What?” Some shuffling occurred, then a soft bang. “Ouch. Why the hell--- I’m here to kidnap you.”
Tim laughed incredulously. The sound was muffled by the concrete six inches from his face. “Kidnap me for who?”
“As a joke.”
“A joke?”
“Who the fuck blows up a building in the middle of the day?!”
Tim checked his thought process, stilling. That was panic. “Jason?”
The echoing breaths were getting… harsh. “No, fuck you. I’m getting out of here.”
“Jason---” Tim tried to sit up, cursing when his leg proved to be extremely stuck. Frantic scrabbling sounds filled the stuffy air. “Jason--- JASON!!!”
“Fuck,” Jason sobbed quietly. The sounds stopped. “I can’t… I can’t do this again.”
Tim tugged at his trapped leg. His heartbeat was racing much faster than his sluggish thoughts. “Don’t… Don’t start panicking, okay? We’re not that deep; they’ll get us out.”
A long silence preceded a quiet, “Are you hurt?”
“I dunno.” Tim winced painfully. “My leg is trapped. I might have a… a broken arm, shit. So that’s why I can’t feel it.”
“God---”
“Where are you?”
“How the hell should I know?!”
“Can you move?”
“Y… Yeah. There’s… There’s a pocket.”
“Great. I’m squished over here… I’m coming over.” Tim gritted his teeth, bracing himself. “Just as soon as I can get this stupid leg free…”
“What are you tr---”
Tim gave a mighty yank, screaming when his vision whited out.
“--- im, I swear to fucking gods--- Tim?! Tim!!! ANSWER me, dammit!!!”
Tim gasped deeply. It felt like he’d been deprived of oxygen for two hours. “I’m okay.”
“Fucking SHIT, man.” Jason’s voice shook. He sounded closer. “How bad is it?”
Tim managed to flip himself over, wriggling through the tiny crawl space to his right. He could see Jason’s pale face filter through dust-thick air. A phone flashlight, maybe? “Not… Not too bad. Help me though.”
Jason’s arm reached for him. He’d been cornered; his blood had left a trail; Hood had found him and dug him out and he’d never screamed so loudly---
Tim’s body jolted back to the present when his head hit rubble. He’d backed himself into a tighter corner. The only way out was forward.
“Tim?” Jason stooped down again to peer through. Was that sweat? Was he sweating? It was so cold… “What is it, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Tim managed to gasp. Spots danced in his peripheral. “Sorry… I just… let me…”
“Hey.” Jason got lower, leaning on his elbows, and showed Tim both hands. Empty, but that didn’t mean much; not to Hood--- “Tim. Timbo. Timmy. Don’t be scared. Are you scared? I won’t hurt you.”
Tim laughed shakily, reaching out. His shaking fingers brushed Jason’s. Jason squeezed first. “I… I know.”
“C’mon,” Jason coaxed softly. His voice sounded like a warm hug. Don’t fall for it, his instincts whispered. (Tim wanted to scream.) “C’mon Tim. I won’t hurt you. I just… I don’t want to be alone.”
The honesty was more startling than it should have been. Tim took a deep breath, wriggling forward on one good leg. His broken arm scraped painfully against the ground, but it didn’t take long to wedge himself through the opening. Jason started to pull him out under the armpits, wrestling him free, and Tim hissed in pain. “Gently gently gently.”
Jason sat back on his butt, shaking. “Sorry.”
Tim knocked his forehead against the ground, panting through the waves of agony. “I’m okay, Jason. I’m… I’m not dying. I’m just trapped. Go… slow.”
Jason’s hands wrapped under his armpits one more time, pulling very carefully. Inch by shuffling inch, they scooted Tim’s body free of the rubble. He kicked his legs free with one final lunge, collapsing instantly when white-hot pain seared through his left calf. It hurt so---
His physical awareness returned before his vision did, and he slumped, choking on a sob. Jason… Jason had caught him. It could not be possible for such a messed up dude to be this good at hugging.
“--- sorry,” Jason was gasping into his hair. “I’m so sorry, baby bird, please, please wake up…”
“I’m okay,” Tim whispered hoarsely. He coughed again, which caused another wave of pain. Jason started to pull away, and to his horror, Tim wasn’t able to suppress a whimper this time.
“Shit.” Jason hurriedly hugged him again. It was perfect. (It was safe.) “Okay. Okay. It’s okay.”
Tim clung desperately with his one good arm, embarrassed tears flooding his eyes. (Maybe that was just the pain?) “Sorry.”
“Don’t… Don’t be sorry.” Jason swallowed hard; Tim could feel it against his ear. “You’re losing a lot of blood. I’m going to bandage it up, okay? I have to let go. Just… Just for a minute.”
Tim took three deep breaths, forcing his fingers to unlatch. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t…” Jason breathed deeply, too. He was very gentle in lying Tim down. Gentler than he had to be. “Just… hold still. It’ll be okay.”
Tim stared at the dust drifting through the air, then the harsh shadows in the rubble-packed ceiling. His nose was clogged. He tasted blood. He hoped it was just his tongue. “Am I st-still crying?”
“You might be in shock.” Ripping noises followed. Cloth? Cloth. “You must’ve hit rebar; this gash is big. No breakage though, thank God…”
“My… urgh… arm.”
“Yeah, but trust me, a broken leg is a lot more painful.”
“What are you talkin’ about?” Tim bit his already wounded tongue as he felt the cloth tighten. “This’s… plenty painful…”
“Sorry.” Something tapped at his cheek. “Here, bite this.”
Tim latched onto the glove, squeezing his eyes shut. His teeth almost cut through the leather as Jason tightened the makeshift tourniquet. Upsides? The bleeding had probably stopped. Downsides? Tim was definitely crying.
“Sorry.” Strong arms lifted his torso, pressing him into a shoulder that didn’t smell like blood. “Shit. Are you awake, kid?”
Tim managed a grunt. A grunt was probably sufficient for this situation. His head throbbed in time with his aching chest, his arm, and his leg. His left side must have blunted his fall. “Y’… not hurt?”
“A few scrapes.”
“Lucky.”
“Not feelin’ so lucky, Timbo.”
Tim raised his hand, the one that didn’t hurt, and pawed at Jason’s face. “Shhhhhhh… shhhhut up. ‘s okay. We’re g’nna make it.”
“Do you have a concussion? Of course you have a concussion. Hey.” Gentle fingers tapped his cheek. “Hey, stay with me. Don’t pass out.”
Tim blinked his eyes open, mustering a glare. “Hurts.”
“I know.” Jason’s chest was rising too fast. “I know, Tim, but if you pass out---”
“Gimme.” Tim made a grabby motion. “Phone; lost mine.”
Jason leaned wayyyyyyy over without letting go of his cradle-hold on Tim’s shoulders, snagging the phone from its dutifully light-shedding position on the floor. He turned the flashlight off, adjusted the brightness, and handed it over. Tim still hissed in discomfort, but he was quick to unlock it. There was no signal down here, which Jason had probably already checked for, but there were other ways to contact a Bat.
“Fuck,” Jason whispered into the silence.
“Jay,” Tim mumbled softly. “I really sympathize, but you gotta calm down.”
“We are buried.”
“We’re not dead.”
Jason’s grip tightened. “How did you unlock my phone? You’re not supposed to know my password.”
“‘s top secret information.” Tim squinted at the screen, flipping through the apps. He went into settings when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. All Bats’ phones had built-in trackers, panic buttons, and a buried uplink to their personal satellite. He could probably break into the Watchtower’s net from here, but that would cause quite a stir, and he would definitely have to fix it after. A last resort, then.
“How are you so calm?” Jason whispered as Tim typed away.
“Uh… practice?” Tim’s eyes roved over the base code of Jason’s phone, trying to find the elusive panic button he was looking for. Jason had either buried it so deep out of spite that virtually no one would ever find it--- Or he hadn’t bothered with a Bat-brand phone at all. Bruce normally handed out replacement phones every time they broke their old ones, and this looked old, though it was hard to see anything under such a thick layer of dust. Tim choked on a sneeze. It worsened his headache.
“Practice?” Jason hissed irritably.
“Yeah? This’s… like… Tuesday.” Tim’s eyes started to water. “Ugh… here. Thought you didn’t have it.”
“Have WHAT?”
“Th’ panic button.” Tim set about making the code an actual application to activate. This would take a second. “We usually got’m…”
“There are panic buttons in our phones?”
“Y’ didn’ know?”
“I only take the upgrade ‘cause it’s free. I mean, you gotta remove the trackers, but…”
“Br’ce stopped putting trackers ‘n yours.”
“What? Why?”
“Probl’y waste of money. You always take’m out anyway.”
“What was that piece I finagled out of this one, then?”
“Somethin’… important?” Tim finally grinned. It stretched his face in a very painful way. Maybe he shouldn’t be doing that. “I got it.”
“This crash is probably all over the news; there’s no way he doesn’t know already.” Jason laughed harshly. It echoed. “Besides, you really think he’s coming? This place is just about ready to finish crashing down on us.”
Tim activated the panic button. “Yeah, but this way’s good. He’ll be able t’ track th’ signal. Also… yeah. He’ll get here. ‘s what he does.”
Jason scoffed loudly. “No, not always.”
“Yeah… always.” Tim pressed his hand to Jason’s rapid heartbeat, strangely emotional. “Always since you.”
Jason’s breath hitched. A second later, the phone turned off, plunging them into darkness. “Shit---”
“We gotta save th’ battery.” Tim tucked the device into his jacket pocket, wincing. “Jus’… breathe. ‘s not so bad. We got s’m… leg room, right? S’m oxygen an’… company.”
“Yeah.” Jason hugged Tim a little tighter. A few tears dropped into his hair. “Yeah.”
Tim wriggled stubbornly, freeing one arm to curl around Jason’s neck. “‘s okay. Y’re not alone this time.”
“I know.” Jason cupped the back of Tim’s head. His hands shook, but his voice didn’t. “Alright. Okay.”
“Jus’ Thursday.”
“I thought it was Tuesday.”
“Hey, man, whatever y’r fav’rite day.”
A soft laugh ghosted through Tim’s hair. Jason’s chest moved a little more slowly. “I like Friday.”
“Fine. Friday.” Tim’s heavy eyes slid shut. How much blood had he lost? Falling asleep was, objectively, the worst idea he could possibly follow through on at this moment. He was also running out of personal choice in the matter. Damn… I can’t leave him alone, though. “Hey… mine’s… Saturday.”
“Yeah?”
“Use’t… stalk you… on y’r rounds t’ th’ homeless. ‘s fun.”
“Oh my God--- That was ages ago. How old were you?”
“Two.”
“Shut the fuck up; you were not.”
“Ha. Never… tell. Secret.”
“Hey… stay with me.”
“‘kay.” Tim forced his eyes open. “Hurts.”
“I know. Damn. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’ be sorry. I…” Tim laughed softly. It hurt so much. “Talk t’ me. Tell me ‘bout… ‘bout somethin’. A book.”
“A book?”
“Yeah… ‘s the best book?”
“You can’t possibly think I know the answer to that. The Bible?”
“Dumbass. Y’r… classic shit. ‘s th’ best? Pride an’ Diss?”
“Prejudice?”
“Mhm.”
“If I talk, are you gonna fall asleep?”
“Nuh.”
“Tim.”
“Mno, ‘m not. G’on.”
Jason breathed slowly, rocking from side to side. It was… soothing. “Okay. Pride an’ Prejudice is the guide to your sorry fucked-up life you never knew you needed. Let’s start with Lizzie Bennet. She’s who I wanna be when I grow up. You could use some pointers, too…”
Waking up in swaddled blankets was considerably more fun. Tim struggled weakly, trying to figure out why he should be worried. He’d been buried, he thought. Under his own fucking building no less. Were they still…?
“Shhhhhhhh.” Someone’s hand rested on his head, stilling his movement. “You’re wrapped like that so you don’t move your head. Take it easy.”
Tim twisted a little to peer out of a hole in the blanket cocoon. A familiar face swam into his vision, smiling down at him. Well, familiar because it was grizzled. The smile was new. “Why’re y’ lookin’ like that?”
“Hm? Oh, no reason.” Bruce tucked him in a little more snugly. It sent a pitiful wave of warmth through Tim’s chest where the blankets couldn’t reach. “You two just seem so relaxed, that’s all.”
Tim squinted at him. “Y’… crying?”
Bruce cleared his throat. “No. How are you feeling?”
“Bad.” Tim swallowed dryly. “Floaty. ‘s warm, though. ‘s nice. Water?”
Obligingly, Bruce held up a fresh water bottle for him to drink. Tim moved just enough to realize that his entire left leg was in a cast, and so was his arm. He guzzled the water before sinking back into the warmth, grumbling. He’d be recovering from this bullshit for weeks. “Who’s it did it?”
“We don’t know.” Bruce rested a heavy hand on his head, forcing his eyes to close. “Nightwing is taking care of it. Rest.”
Tim huffed a tired sigh, burrowing deeper into the warmth. It rose in gentle intervals; a steady rhythm even slower than his own. “Jas’n?”
“Yes.” Bruce’s voice sounded… funny. “He escaped with minimal injury.”
Tim swallowed around the lump in his throat. “He didn’ leave.”
“No. You would panic when you woke up, he said. Something about infants waking in a different place than they fell asleep…”
Tim kept his eyes closed, but he didn’t need sight to tell who was sleepily hugging him tight. The blankets hadn’t been his only restriction. The weird thing? Even after a probably-maybe shower… even under the distant pain… Jason still smelled like Jason. Dangerous and stormy and warm. He smelled like a warm fire in the middle of a downpour. He smelled like blood on the Tower floor. He smelled a little bit like something… someone… Tim could get used to.
Maybe. Or maybe that was just the concussion talking. You never really knew on days like this.