Chapter 2: Blame Game

Tim was prepared to face a lot of things when he woke up. He was expecting Jason to be a complete ass before reminding him not to almost die next time. He was expecting Alfred to be tutting over him somewhat passive aggressively, and possibly Bruce watching from the staircase, with Tim unable to tell if it was out of concern or disappoint.

But he was not in the Cave. No Jason being a jerk, no concerned Alfred, no emotionally stunted Bruce. There was just a blonde man sitting in an armchair watching him sleep. Definitely not unsettling in the slightest.

He could still feel the mask over his eyes, yet he was no longer in his Red Robin costume, instead some red and yellow scratchy pajamas. An IV was plugged into his arm, pumping him full of stuff he wasn't sure he wanted.

Blondie had noticed he was awake, but was waiting for Tim to do something first. Blondie's frame reminded him of Jason, just a bit taller with more muscle mass. Considering that Jason was built like a truck, it was unnerving to see someone built stronger. Blondie was possibly a meta, Tim had yet to determine that.

He took notice of the room he was in. A med bay. He eyes flicked to his bandage wrapped center. Whatever painkillers he was on did little to help the acheing, he'd grown an immunity to most of them. The pain and wound were just another variable to consider. The room was sparse for the most part, just his bed, the armchair, and the machines he was connected to as well as a window looking over the city. His heart rate pinged on the monitor behind him, slightly faster than normal.

A weapon would have been nice, the IV needle was a possibility, but getting it out and disconnecting it from the wire wouldn't be worth the time wasted. He was at a size disadvantage, injured, and in unknown territory. His best bet was to get Blondie to pity him more than he already was. Pity, Tim had found, was great for lowering someone's defenses and getting information.

He gripped his midsection, doubling over and letting out a weeze. The man's face contorted into concern.

"You okay, Red?" He asked.

So he knew who he was. He could still work around that. His self hatred hurt more than the pain, after all he'd gotten himself into mess. Probably Jason too, though he'd deal with that shit show after he got away from Blondie.

He shook his head. "It hurts." He pouted up towards the larger man who had begun to melt any defense. It wounded his dignity to have to act pathetic, but thankfully demon brat wasn't around to mock him. "W-where am I?"

"Avengers' tower."

"Where?"

Concern changed to confusion, he'd have to back peddle. He let out a second strained gasp, this one was more real as he had tried to sit up. Avengers' tower, that was a name to remember.

"Be careful, you don't want to rip your stitches." He could agree with Blondie on that. Then he'd have to restitch them and that'd be a pain without Alfred's help. Not preferable, but if required he'd rip the stitches open like a child on christmas who'd just found out his parents were getting a divorce.

"Can you help?" He winced. One hand wrapped around his center, the other grabbed the headboard. Blondie nodded, getting into arms reach to help Tim sit up. He didn't exit range afterwards.

"Why am I here?"

"I don't know if I'm classified to say."

Mysterious. Tim didn't mind a mystery, though he suspected Jason was a large reason he was stuck here. He grabbed onto the man's upper arm feigning a need of support; he succeeded in pulling the man closer. For some reason, Tim holding onto his arm seemed to spook Blondie.

"You were bleeding out in a parking lot." He caved. "You caused some sort of anomaly."

"Oh."

Teleportation likely, he had definitely not been in a parking lot when he started to bleed out and he doubted that Jason would have left him to die in one. He didn't think Jason held a lot value for Tim's life, yet he hadn't tried to kill Tim in months. They'd been getting along better.

"Where are my things?"

"In the lab downstairs." The man pulled his breath in. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that." He smiled towards Tim who was hanging off his arm like a drugged up koala. "Not like you're going to grab them though."

"And Red Hood?"

That made the man stiffen. Of fucking course. Jason had made things worse somehow. As long as Hood wasn't dead Tim could fix this mess… somehow. He was still working some things out.

"Sorry kiddo, can't tell you that one."

Tim whimpered through the pain, hoping it'd work a second time. It didn't. Seemed like he'd gotten all the information he could, or almost all of it.

"Who are you?"

This sent the man for a loop. His eyebrows shot up. He onced over the injured boy, confusion poorly hidden behind his concern.

"Steve Rogers, Captain America."

Tim's lack of recognition seemed to startle Blondie more. Tim murmured something then motioned with his hand for Steve to come in closer so he could hear. His ear was turned to Tim.

"Sorry Steve, you seemed nice."

Tim brought his knee into the side of the man's head. His hand ripped the IV out and then stabbed it into Steve's shoulder. He vaulted over the man's shoulder his stomach whining after him, begging for him to go lay back down in the bed. The man's shocked voice called after him.

He closed the door behind him and hurried down the hallway. He didn't run, instead observing the hallway he was in and looking for a tight space he could fit in that the man couldn't. He came to a doorway. On the other side he could hear the chattering of voices. He caught sight of the ventilation system on the ceiling. He opened the door a crack to confuse Steve before using the wall to help himself reach the grate.

He could hear the heavy footsteps running down the hallway. He struggled to open the grate. He was holding himself up only by his arms and his injured midriff was chewing Tim out for all his life decisions leading up to that moment. Tim was able to open the grate enough to slip in, he saw Steve pass below the grate and run through the cracked open door.

"Red Robin is out." Steve yelled. "Lock the building down." The following commotion made Tim's time limited. The vents were not the ideal place to be, they were loud and after checking camera's he would be compromised in minutes. Not to mention they were disgusting.

He allowed himself to check his stomach and was thankful to see nothing had torn yet, a few more fancy flips and he'd be getting intimate with a needle. He could hear Alfred's voice patronizing him for not letting his wounds heal.

"Master Timothy" He imitated. "You really should be resting."

He dragged himself through the vents wondering how his life had come to this. He really shouldn't have chosen the vents. He had no idea where he was going. He was like a tourist trying to hard not appear like lost, despite being totally lost.

"My life is a mess." He decided. He came to a grate and peaked out. He heard people talking underneath it. He didn't recognize who was speaking.

"I can't believe you were beaten by an injured ten year old." Someone laughed. Tim bristled as he wasn't ten years old. It was Damian's M.O to have his age confused, not Tim.

"He plays dirty." Steve said. "He was being all helpless."

"We told you he was likely dangerous." A female voice chastised. "Especially considering what his accomplice was like."

Jason. They were talking about Jason. A more irrational part of him wanted to jump from the vents and directly find out what they knew. That'd be an idiotic move. As much as Tim hated the vents, it was better than placing himself in a losing battle against Blondie and Co.

"Has anyone told him about the kid yet?" The first voice asked.

"Fury's using him as a bargaining chip." The female replied. "Tell us who you are and we'll let you know if he's dead or not sorta thing."

"That's cruel." Steve said.

And stupid in Tim's own opinion. Jason would always choose self preservation over Tim. Jason would choose self preservation over anyone, it was just his nature.

"Did it work?"

"To an extent."

That was easily the most shocking part of Tim's day. He really needed to find Jason, before he became too sentimental for his own good. Though he wouldn't find him if he stayed in the vent being sentimental himself. It wouldn't take long for them to find out where he was.

He continued crawling, his vision was a little blurry from the pain. His teeth gripped on the collar of his shirt to stop himself from making any noise. The trio were not worried presumably as they thought he couldn't get out. He wasn't above proving them wrong.

A robotic voice overhead made his day significantly worse, if that was possible. "Sir, it appears as if Red Robin is somewhere the ventilation system."

"Locate where yet J.A.R.V.I.S?"

"I will notify you when I find him."

Tim picked up his pace. He placed a hand down too hard on the metal causing it to cling out a noise. He winced, picking up speed. It was definitely time to leave the vents. He saw a grate above him.

He peaked his face over seeing a man with a quiver on the other side observing the grate. Arrow man let out a screech jumping back. "Holy crap, its Walmart boy."

Tim had so many questions, most of them were unimportant. Though he did have a few to ask. He kicked out the grate. Something ripped. He was definitely bleeding again. Today was just such a great day for Tim.

He launched himself out towards the man landing on his back and wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his middle like a child getting a piggyback ride. "I'm not being known as Walmart boy." He said. He slammed tightened his arms around the man's neck, choking him. "Extremely dehumanizing."

The man slammed backwards into a wall trying to shake Tim. When Tim wouldn't fall off he continued doing it, each time making Tim grunt in pain. The robot voice came overhead again. "Sir, please try not to kill the boy." Tim gritted his teeth harder. He didn't need some overhead voice to come to his aid. He was fine. Fine if you looked past the reopened gash on his stomach.

"Get the hell off."

"Tell me where Red Hood is."

"No way little dude."

Tim's place on the man's back left him positioned against the quiver. He recognized what seemed like some trick arrows similar to what Green Arrow used. Though he had no idea what they did, so he grabbed a normal one.

He brought it down into the man's shoulder blade. The shrieking continued and Arrow man backed into the wall one final time, Tim let go rolling away from him. The yellow parts of his shirt had started to turn red.

"You stabbed me!" He accused.

"You kidnapped my brother." He thought for a moment. "And me too I guess."

Arrow had one hand holding onto the arrow shaft, the other threw a punch at Tim. He didn't dodge fast enough and it grazed the side of temple. Sloppy on his part. If he wasn't slowly bleeding out, he could have dodged. He tried to kick at the man, but doubled over in pain. He gasped out trying to see past his blackening vision.

"I am not falling for that, Kid." Arrow man said. He kicked out Tim's leg making him fall painfully on the ground. He tried to stop from crying out, but failed. His hands had become covered in his own blood.

Blondie burst into the room followed by the presumed male and female voices. Tim made eye contact with him through the pain. He tried to push himself off the ground, but only left bloody hand marks on the otherwise clean.

"Clint!" Steve yelled. "What are you doing?!"

"How is this my fault?!"

"What the hell Clint." The male voice said. "He's just a kid."

Clint gestured haphazardly at the arrow sticking out of his shoulder. "Hello? He literally stabbed me."

Tim chuckled a bit. He tried to push himself up again, but his hands slipped on the blood making him fall down again. He gave it one more chance, and was finally able to bring himself to his wobbly feet. He had lost this battle. It still didn't mean he was just going to let them just drag him off. He got into a defensive stance eyeing everyone in the room.

"How about one of you guys tell me where the hell Red Hood is." He swayed like a tree in the midst of a tropical storm. "Before I find out myself."

The male voice started laughing. He was a slight man with a goatee, just a couple inches taller than Tim. It was understandable to Tim why his was laughing, he must have looked pathetic, standing up in a puddle of his own blood, barely able to keep himself from hunching over. Not just pathetic, pitiful. He smirked before tossing his dead weight at goatee man.

Goatee man fell underneath him and Tim got up and started running. He hadn't run earlier, but now was definitely was the time for running. Or at least he thought he was running, he was more hobbling slowly from the four people.

"I understand now, Clint." Goatee man empathized behind him.

The back of his shirt was grabbed and he was pulled back by the woman. She was a redhead and exactly Dick's type. It was kind of amusing to Tim to imagine the two meeting.

"Hey." He greeted.

Bruce would have been disappointed in him. He hung like a kitten by the scruff of his neck. His body finally went limp as his adrenaline started leaving him. There was a bribe in Jason's future to get him to never speak of this mishap of a mission ever again. Once he found him that was.

"Hey." She replied. Steve was behind her watching him worriedly. Tim felt Blondie's urge to go check on him, yet the man stayed out of Tim's range. Smart.

She went over to Steve while still holding tightly onto Tim. "Take him back to the medical bay before he bleeds out." She narrowed her eyes. "And don't let him leave this time."

Tim was held bridal style by Blondie. Absolutely humiliating. Today really was the worst day. He still chose to Blame Jason, even if it wasn't his fault. He kept fading in and out of sleep.

Eventually, when he found himself mostly consciousness, he was back in his bed. There was an IV in his arm once again, his stomach was re-bandaged and Steve was back in his armchair. He tried to move his arms but found them restrained, same thing with his feet.

"Sorry kiddo." The man consoled watching as the boy strained against the restraints.

"Don't call me kiddo." He spat. Earlier the man's pity had been helpful, now it was just annoying.

The man got closer to Tim. "They aren't too tight are they?"

Tim glared through the mask. "Don't come any closer." He warned. "I can still head butt you."

The man retreated back to his arm chair and went back to watching Tim, sadly? Worriedly? Pitifully? He couldn't tell. He didn't like any off it.

"I don't know who you are Captain America." He said. "But you and your buddies are the worst."

He'd work things out. He figure out what to do.

There was a reason that Jason tried to stay away from the bats. Actually there were several reasons Jason stayed away from the Bats, and one was that things went bad whenever he interacted with them. Jason blamed the replacement for his situation. The baby bird had to accidentally cross paths with Jason, had to join Jason take down the drug ring, had to almost die. Now Tim was probably bleeding out somewhere, and it was Jason's fault, because he couldn't save him.

He was chained to a table by his wrists and his ankles chained to the chair. His clothes had been replaced with some surprisingly comfortable cotton ones. His belt was gone as well, along with his helmet. The only thing remaining was his domino mask which they hadn't been able to get off.

Across from his the one eye man was glaring at him with his arm wrapped up and in a sling with the audacity to use Timmy as leverage. The man, Fury, was some sort of leader to a spy organization. Jason was vaguely excited to gloat to Bruce about finding something he didn't know about. Things rarely went past Batman, things did like the Court of Owls, but it was rare. The thought of bringing up the spy organization was Jason's only source of joy.

Well that and the idea of getting revenge for them trying use the replacement as a chip in their game of poker.

"Who are you?" Fury asked.

"Already told you."

Fury tapped his fingers on the table eyeing Jason like a spider he was deciding on how to crush.

"That's too bad." He held a manila folder in his hands and started to flip through it. "I could have told you about your little obligation."

He kept on calling the replacement an obligation. It was fine when Jason called him that, that's what the kid was to him. He couldn't just let the baby bird go and get himself killed. When the man said it, it sounded wrong; like Tim wasn't a person.

"He's fine." Jason stated hoping it was true. The idea of having to carry Tim's cold body back to Gotham made his stomach churn like a Victorian country girl making butter from spoiled milk.

"I don't know about that." Jason clenched his jaw. He had been told that the replacement had been doing better. An agent had taken pity on him and in passing of bringing food told Jason that the boy had gotten stitched up. "He ripped his stitches the other day, lost a lot of blood."

That idiot. Why couldn't he just lay still and wait for Jason to go find him. Isn't that what children were told to do when they got lost? Stay put and wait. Tim was supposed to be the smart robin.

"You better hope he's not dead when I find him." Jason threatened.

"I don't think you're in a position to barter." Fury closed the manila folder pushing it towards Jason, but just out of his grip. "Tell us who you are and I'll tell you whether we think he's going to live or not."

Jason knew what he was doing. The manipulative bastard held Tim's well being like a prize above him. Jason hated that it was working.

"I'm Red Hood. I work out of Gotham. I am the second Robin of Batman." He was hoping the name Batman would scare the man. He hated bringing Bruce into things, he hated bringing any of the bats into anything just look where it got him, yet his name did tend to have a certain effect on others.

The manila folder was so close; so painfully close. Then it was snatched away. Fury abruptly stood up taking the folder with him. Jason slammed his fists on the table.

"We had a deal!" He yelled.

"That deal required telling the truth, making up names will get you nothing."

"What the actual fuck are you talking about?"

Fury circled around Jason. He was observing Jason's body language. That jerk was always relying on Jason's body language. Apparently his words weren't good enough.

"I thought you would have some concern about the boy, I guess he really is just an obligation."

Jason slammed his fists down again. The handcuffs clanged on the metal table. It caught the man's attention who watched him with a insufferable raised eyebrow.

"You don't get to call him that." He spat. "I told you the truth so let me see what's in that folder before I pry it from your cold dead hands."

"Where is Gotham."

Jason thought he understood the mind games the man was playing at before, but now he was just confused.

"What do you mean where is Gotham?"

"I mean where is Gotham."

Jason snarled, but still chose to play the man's game. It wasn't like he was telling the man anything that he couldn't figure out. "East Coast, New Jersey."

The man looked at the double sided glass for a moment before handing the folder to Jason. He left not saying anything as he left the room.

It was difficult to flip through the files with his chained up hands, but he managed. Some were reports on his condition, others were pictures. They hadn't been able to get Timbo's mask off either. He saw a picture that showed they had restrained Tim to his bed, a note under it read: limiting movement to prevent escape or the re-tearing of stitches. Jason chuckled, they were underestimating the replacement. The restraints weren't even metal.

Overall it was reassuring to see that Tim didn't seem to be about to die. Jason still planned to get out of wherever he was before the idiot worsened his injuries again. He stopped looking at Tim in the photos instead looking at where Tim was. A pane of glass in the room showed several tall buildings that Jason planned to use to find Tim. Wherever he was, he was in a skyscraper. He just needed to identify the other buildings once he got out.

The door reopened, Jason didn't look up. "Fuck off, Fury."

"Langue." A voice that wasn't Fury said. Jason snapped his head up to observe the new figure.

"Are you supposed to be American man or something?" Jason asked. The man was dressed ridiculously, it was like he'd gotten tangled in an American flag and then decided that the look was flattering. It wasn't.

"Captain America." He corrected. "You can call me Steve though."

"Yeah, no."

The man sat down in the chair across from him. Jason had seen this man in the corner of one of the pictures. The creep had been watching over the replacement. He glared towards the man.

"So you ruffled the replacement's feathers?" He didn't try to mask the hatred in his voice. It was enjoyable to watch the man squirm. "Nothing says American hero like beating up a helpless kid." Tim wasn't helpless, far from it. Tim had just turned 17 though and was badly hurt and the man across from him was holding the boy against his will.

"That wasn't me." He protested.

"Just your friends."

They sat in silence, Jason was annoyed by the presence of the man. His virtuous aura was all a mask and Jason was thrilled for the moment when he could beat it out of the man. That'd be satisfying. Other people weren't allowed to pick on any of the bat bunch, it was a Gotham masked freaks exclusive club. Well a Gotham masked freaks and Alfred exclusive Club.

"Are you guys ever going to let me see him?" The continued silence answered the question. Jason humphed setting the file down and staring into the table.

"He said you guys were brothers."

Jason kept staring into the table. That was out of character for Tim. He supposed that they were. In their messed up family, that was what they were, brothers; and family didn't let family get held captive by some creepy spy organization.

"Technically."

It didn't matter if this was all Tim's fault. He wasn't about to let the replacement rot. All he had to do was bide his time and play the right cards and then he could bring Armageddon down against the people who dared to mess with Jason, or worse those Jason was required to care about.

He'd find Tim, he'd fix this. Then he'd bribe Timbo so that he didn't tell Bruce that things had gotten as bad as they had.

Things would work out. He kept telling himself that. Things would be fine. He'd get them both out of Tim's mess.

Why did things always have to be complicated for Fury. For once he wanted a simple case. Not mysterious anomalies who were conveniently related. He was mainly determined to keep brothers from joining up, before he learned why they were here. They were manageable apart, yet together he wasn't as sure.

Unluckily, since life regularly tossed horrible situations at him, he was handed two individuals who were determined to find each other. Though maybe, if he manipulated the situation right…

"Agent Hill."

"Fury?"

He handed her Red Hood's file. "I need you to leak some information to anomaly 2. He needs to know where the other one is." She grabbed the file and loitered with a question.

"Won't he just come find him? Sir I don't understand the intention."

"The first anomaly won't be here." He picked up his own file leaving to go give the man the folder, but not before picking his brain first. If life was nice to Fury for once, then the man would take the prize, unaware of the poison riddled inside of it.

Things would work out. People were predictable.