This isn't long or anything, and it was really just to get me in the mood for writing a different story, but I'm posting it anyways. Enjoy!

"You've got to be kidding me," Dick growls, his eyebrows furrowing as he rereads the text message, because it does not say what he thinks it says.

Tim, the only one in the room, looks up from his coffee from across the kitchen counter. He looks kind of interested, but also ready to take his mug and bolt at the slightest hint of trouble. "What is it?"

Dick doesn't look up from his phone, and he doesn't answer Tim. Instead, he rereads the text for a third time. His worst fears have come to pass and he doesn't know what he's going to do. Unfortunately, he's not Batman (anymore) and he doesn't have a contingency plan for something like this.

Tim's too curious for his own good, because he's behind Dick now, reading the text over Dick's shoulder while he sips his coffee. Dick watches as Tim's eyebrows shoot up.

"Wow," Tim says when he finishes. "That sounds like loads of fun. Good luck."

Dick groans. "This is the worst."

Tim gives him an incredulous look. "Right. Because getting asked to babysit as a last resort is definitely worse than everything we've been through in the past year."

Dick grimaces. "But…they're kids," Dick says. "Toddlers. I'm going to screw it up or something."

"You're not going to screw it up," Tim says. "You're great with kids."

And he sounds so sure. But Tim doesn't get that Dick is a frigging vigilante. What if there's an emergency and he needs to get out there. He can't bring his neighbor's twin three year olds into combat with him. And he wouldn't be able to leave them alone.

But he's the only option that she has, so it isn't like he can turn her down, either.

Dick groans. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"What's the big deal anyways?" Tim asks. "I thought you liked hanging out with kids."

"I do. It's just." Dick sighs. How to say this. "I'm not. It's not that I don't want to babysit. Usually I wouldn't hesitate, but after last week…."

He trails off, partly because Tim's confusion has morphed into seriousness and understanding, and partly because Dick isn't sure if he can say it out loud quite yet. He still sees it happen over and over in his dreams, and he definitely doesn't want to the same thing to happen to Ms. Reed's twins.

Last week had been a disaster for Nightwing. He'd come to Gotham (actually, he still hasn't actually left yet) when Red Robin had called in for some extra help on a case. While working it, Dick had been fighting in the street, trying to catch one of Tim's bad guys. That's when it had all gone wrong.

It had only taken a moment, but one minute he was fighting, and the next a shot had rung out. Dick blinked and then a child he hadn't seen before (he couldn't have been older than ten) was falling over, a bullet going straight through his head. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Dick hadn't even known where the shot had come from. The perp Dick had been fighting had looked just as shocked. Dick barely had enough sense to knock the guy out and tie him up before he'd frozen up.

The rest was a blur, the damage done. Tim managed to get Dick out of there before the police got there, handling the cops to the best of his ability.

Now, Dick's not sure how he feels being around children anymore. He usually loves kids, but, while he doesn't feel exactly guilty, he does feel like being around kids probably isn't safe for someone like him.

Irrational? Probably. But that's how he feels.

Tim sighs. "I know what you're thinking, but you've got to know that it wasn't your fault. Neither of us knew that guy on the roof was there until it was too late."

Dick scowls down at his dark phone screen. "I just don't get why he even shot—" Dick doesn't finish, but Tim understands anyways.

"I don't know, either," Tim tells him. "But it's not something we could have prevented. We didn't know they had a third guy with them."

Dick knows that Tim probably has theories upon theories why the guy had shot the child, but he appreciates that Tim doesn't bring them up, even if it's only to spare his feelings. So instead of picking an argument that's only going to make him feel worse, Dick says, "Right."

They're both quiet for a moment. Dick staring at his phone, and Tim slurping his coffee. It's not awkward, but—and maybe it's because of the subject—it's something like uncomfortable.

After a few moments, Tim puts down his empty coffee mug and looks Dick straight in the eye. He still doesn't say anything, but it looks like he's gearing up to do something Tim's not going to like, but Dick will love.

"Look," Tim says. "I know that it's hard for you. So, what if I came with you."

Dick blinks. "Timmy, are you offering to babysit with me?" Dick asks, real slow. Because he's not actually sure if he's hallucinating or not. Last he remembered, Tim doesn't like kids much.

"Against my better judgement? Yes."

Dick grins. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

And maybe it doesn't satisfy all of his fears about bringing these kids into danger just by being around, but it does quiet them. And as long as they're not clamoring for his attention, as long as Tim is there to make sure he doesn't freeze up or anything like that, maybe Dick will actually be able to do this.

Dick pulls Tim into a hug. "Thanks, Tim."

Tim pats him on the back. "No problem, Dick. Can you let go now?"

Dick just laughs and squeezes Tim until he squawks. Tim manages to get free eventually, and Dick just says, "We need to leave by three."

While Dick shoots off a confirmation text to Ms. Reed, Tim scowls at him, refills his coffee, and stalks out of the kitchen. But he doesn't rescind his offer, and Dick's really, really happy he has a little brother like Tim.