Wowowowow I'm surprised I haven't written anything for this fandom yet. Well here you go.

I got inspired to write some sordid JayDick after looking through The Dark Knight Returns again. This fanfiction is also available at AO3 under the same name.

"You shouldn't be here," Jason said gruffly, his eyes narrowing as blue and black dashed across a nearby rooftop. He watched lamely as Dick lost his grip, how odd, and slipped. He skidded across the concrete, escrima sticks flung to the side.

The acrobats outline struggled, illuminated in plastic, neon light and the soft hint of the moon. Jason stubbed out his cigarette and ran a hand through his hair. He watched for moments more, his position on the water tower secure enough. Dick seemed to slip even deeper into pain with each attempt at getting up. His legs shook with exertion and Jason waited even longer to smell blood. The shiny crimson was dulled in the night, but even Jason could tell that Dick was loosing quite a bit.

Dick's Nightwing costume was in tatters, ruined by knives and tricky bullets Jason supposed. He was surprised that Dick had managed to make it that far on his own. He could feel his own heart swell in concern and he stamped it down, reaching for another cigarette. With each exhale of smoke; he felt a little frustration leave him. But even the swirling patterns of white could not hide Nightwing's prone body from Jason's careful eyes.

Dick cried out then, his arms collapsing. Jason shuddered and thought about meddling with a group of kids that was beginning to gather at the base of the building. Their sneaky, idiotic stances and stupid attempts at dealing gave Jason enough motives to stay away though. He had no time to fight with kids. He'd snatch the shit off them later perhaps.

"Call Oracle already idiot," Jason muttered, the smolder on his cigarette beginning to burn his fingertips. He hissed loudly and dropped it, letting it fall and startle the youth pack. They dropped their stuff immediately, blades and voices out.

"Who's up there? Come out you fuckin' coward!"

Jason sighed and reached for his helmet.

He didn't kill them or anything, just stole the package of marijuana they had been shuffling around.

"Go home. You don't belong here," He told them harshly.

Dick should be gone by now, He thought.

"We just tryin' to make a living man!" One said.

Jason snorted, "Don't try that shit with me. "

He lunged at them and they all scattered, their pack seemingly meaningless. Jason stuffed the drugs under his arm and made the climb back up to the water tower. Maybe he'd dump this stuff with Bruce later and make him check it out. Although weed wasn't a major problem in Gotham.

"Weird," He said out loud.

It wasn't a huge find, just a medium baggie with a couple of buds. He opened it, fingers riffling through the sticky substance. But when his fingers hit something cold, he froze.

He pulled out a nice, little vial. It was glass and filled with clear liquid. Jason didn't open it.

"Fuck."

He dropped the vial back into the bag and looked out across Gotham again. He ought to drop this shit with Tim. The little fucker was irritating but was absolutely brilliant at stuff like this. Besides, Jason had lost a lot of his equipment when his old safe house had blown prematurely.

He tried to ignore how Dick was still lying there, the little puddle now expanded to a lake underneath him. Jason felt his heart skip a beat and he coughed, as if attempting to force it back into rhythm.

He sat there for ten more minutes, listening to idle whore chatter and attempting to catch Bruce's com line. After failing several times he sighed.

"Don't make me do this Dickie-bird."

When he actually arrived at Dick's body, it was a lot worse than he'd thought. The blue that usually ran across Nightwing's chest had been almost chiseled out, the flash Jason caught earlier on a sliver of what it had formerly been. The blood flow had stopped, but Jason spotted three glistening wounds on Dick's sides as well as multiple scratches and bruises littering his pale skin. His domino had almost been ripped off his face, but Jason guessed Dick had been most protective of that over all.

The weirdest thing is that he didn't have his com in.

He normally would've kicked Dick off the building. But this was anything but normal.

He first tried to catch Bruce's lines again. It was a Saturday. The dynamic duo should be out by now, sliding around on the other side of town. He caught nothing but static.

He shouldn't be doing this. He really shouldn't be doing this.

When he picked up Dick's body, the man almost fell right off his shoulder. Jason readjusted him and huffed.

"You're so fucking lucky my safe house is right around the corner Golden Boy, or I would've left you here to bleed out."

Jason wasn't sure if he was really talking to Dick.

He tried to ignore the weird looks he got from his local girls at the corner as he climbed into his current safe house. He entered through the window, the front door abandoned once again. He left Dick spread out on the bed and went to look for his raggedy first-aid kit. He flipped Dick over, stripping him down to his boxers. Jason wasn't modest or shy, he didn't have time for shit like that. Although, he had to admit, Dick was just as attractive out of his suit as he was in it. He tried to ignore how normal it felt, tried to look away from Dick's muscular stomach and domino mask and remind himself that this was insanity-not the real world.

Dick moaned as Jason cleaned the wounds but he didn't wake up (which worried Jason a little). He noticed immediately that the cuts were very precise, as if they had been outlined. Dick had been chopped up like a pig for slaughter, incisions marked and ready. They weren't haphazard cuts, but planned injuries. It almost looked like Dick did this to himself, but Jason knew goldie too well for that.

Once clean, he grabbed an old shirt and pulled it over Dick's head. His skin was sticky and filthy, but Jason wasn't picky, he lived in a shithole for god's sake. He ripped off the domino and placed it on the nightstand, although it was too damaged to be used again. Like the rest of Nightwing's costume, it seemed whoever had caught him was an avid fan. Usually nut cases like that went after the suit, looking for some sort of keepsake.

"I wonder who brought you down," Jason said.

He placed one hand on Dick's forehead and felt the burn immediately. Not good.

Only after he got the water and Advil did he realize he would need to rouse Dick for this. He propped him up and lightly slapped his cheeks. Dick's eyes peeled open, hazy and confused. He coughed and shook with fever. His mouth opened, but only gasps came out. Words slipped off his tongue and Jason took the chance, stuffing the pills and water down Dick's throat.

"There you go. Swallow. Swallow," Jason ordered.

"Jay...," He mumbled.

He fell back into sleep quickly after. Jason wiped the slick sweat off Dick's forehead and stood up straight.

He needed a smoke.

And a shower.

And probably not Nightwing in his fucking bed wearing his fucking shirt-goddamnit it.

Please review to tell me what you think and whether or not I should continue this! :)