The Name of the Game

A Word: I can't explain how this got meshed in my mind. Just let it be said that I started thinking about a What If-? where the bat boys are Winchesters, and say it all went downhill from there. This will all be drabbles. More or less in chronological order.

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"Dad's missing," Dick says and Jason groans. He curls up on the bed, stubbornly pulling one of the stiff hotel pillows over his head. "Jay. Jay!"

"Fuck off, dickhead," Jason snaps out when the pillow gets yanked from his hand. He's tired as fuck and needs another ten hours of sleep to recover from the last hunt. It's not every day he gets the life nearly strangled out of him. "The old man's fine! He's just holed up somewhere hungover."

"No," Dick stubbornly insists. "Clark hasn't seen him and even Babs hasn't heard anything about him for a month. Nothing, Jayce. He hasn't even called her back about some jobs."

Which, alright, yeah, that's not something that's normal. Bruce Wayne is a man who defines the word 'obsessed' and is damn near anal about getting the scoop on any weird shit from Barbara's network. He might not be able to take on the insane number of cases she has, but he makes damn sure knows what's happening. Studying the cases and hunts intently, looking for a pattern. Looking for something that he refuses to tell anyone else about. Even his own children.

"God, fine," Jason grits out and sits up. Wincing at the stabs of pain that go up his back from that ghost bitch's claws. The old man could go hang himself for all that Jason cares. If the secretive fuck didn't want to share with them then he could suffer for his paranoia. Dick though, Dick's always a soft spot especially for Dad and would never hear one cross word about him. "Lay it out for me."

He gets a phone to the face for his troubles. A voice message waiting for play as Dick starts to pace the small room. "He last checked in at Jericho, California."

Jason plays the message and then plays it again. "Is that-?"

"Yep," Dick says, and he's not just pacing now. He's packing. A grim light in his eyes as he packs up the few things they'd unpacked for this hunt before Jason got his ass handed to him. "EVP. Whatever Dad was hunting found him first."

"Christ, Dick," Jason dropped the phone and considered his body seriously for a moment. "I'm not going to be much help here. I need some serious down time to recover."

"I know," Dick says and he turns his back to Jason to finish packing their guns and salt rounds up. Jason can't see his face as Dick very casually says, "We'll have to pass Stanford to get there."

Jason goes a little cold and flinches. "No, Dick. No."

"Dad's missing-"

"And Tim's out!" Jason doesn't yell even though that's what he wants to do. What he's used to doing when the conversation turns to their youngest brother. He bites the urge back though because usually it's Dad bringing it up not Dick. "He's got a life, Dick. He doesn't do this crazy shit anymore. We can't just drag him out of that and make him hunt again."

"We're not!" Dick turns to protest and he looks tired, and worn beyond all reason. Like he actually knows what he's suggesting. "I wouldn't ask but," Dick slumps down on the foot of Jason's bed, "we really need the help with this, and I know you're really not up to it. Tell me you think you're up to taking on another ghost so soon and I'll skip Standford. We'll leave Tim alone to his life and find Dad on our own."

Jason wants to say yes, wants to spare Tim, because it's a reasonable request. Just one last time. But Jason knows how those stories end. He wants to say yes but he can't.

His back is messed up, he's still loopy from painkillers, and he's fairly sure that his ribs are bruised if not broken. He doubts he's up to getting out of the room by himself let alone go on a hunt. He's not about to put Dick's life at risk like that by lying either. Jason sighs and sinks back down on the bed. "No, I'm not."

Dick goes silent and they sit there for a bit. Just listening to the AC kick on. "It'll be nice to see Tim again."

"Yeah," Jason eventually admits, because it will be nice seeing the twerp after three years of no contact. "Don't think he's going to think the same though once you tell him why you're there."

"Probably not," Dick admits before getting up to finish packing. Jason closes his eyes and dozes as he listens to his older brother moving around. Thinking about the last time any of them had seen Tim. Steely eyed and stubborn as he turned his back and walked away to do what he wanted to do, and Bruce's cold silence as he made sure that Tim could never turn back. It's a memory that's sour and filled with pride all at once.

Wishing they had a better reason for seeing Tim again is pointless, but Jason does it anyway.

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