A/N: This chapter took a bit of time to get out, but alas! It's here! I really hope you like it, because I'm pretty sure this is one of my favorite ones. :) Oh and each of the chapters has a song to go with it—PM me if you want the playlist!

Jenniferg7: No, it doesn't need to go along with this story. If you want it to, sure, but I'm not forcing you to make it fit. It can be as long as you want, too—I just want Jay to get a pick-me-up when he's down, y'know? Good luck, and I'm sure it'll come out great!

lilnightmare17: Thank you! I'm glad you like it and hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

Echoes 01: When has Dickie ever been a good liar? (Oh wait. Spyral. Forgot he lied to his brothers like that… *huff*) Dick sucks at lying. Royally. No, seriously. We were talkin' while Jay was takin' his beauty sleep—Hey!—and he told me about a time where he broke an ornament and said an elf broke in sp'cific'ly to break the thing an' left. …Damn. What an idiot.

Echoes 01: Thank you so much for understanding! See? Y're not too bad, Ech. Nice t'know ya :) Yes! Happy t'know som'one like you! Jay gives me a headache with his idiocy. Y're gonna give me grey hairs, Babybird. S'the least I can do t'return the favor.

You Did WHAT?

Oh Gotham nights why must you be so cold.

That was the only thing going through Tim's mind as he walked down the barren sidewalk with Jason barely managing to disguise his limp beside him. Jason had given Tim his jacket despite Tim's furious protest but, the younger had to admit, it was nice to have the additional warmth. He hasn't been this warm in a while, even if it's not too much warmer than before. Jason was visibly shaking from the cold but refused to accept the jacket no matter how much Tim insisted.

"C-can't h-have y-you th-this c-cold T-Tim."

Tim made a strangled noise as they passed Mick's Picks in frustration. "Jay y're being stupid. I'm not the one with a bruised knee and five stitches in the skull!"

Jason waved a hand in dismissal. "S'fine, Babybird." He left it at that.

…What a prick.

They continued walking in silence. Jason was keeping an eye out for anyone who would even try to jump him and his brother, his hand fingering the switchblade in his pocket. Tim was enjoying the silence and the feeling of the wind gently brushing his face. Tonight was a blissfully calm one and Tim was contempt with appreciating it.

…And then they saw it. Just sitting there. The moonlight glinted off of the smooth, sleek body and made it shine like something straight outta a movie, or something. The tires didn't have the hubcaps on, though, but s'not like that matters right now. What matters is the design the vehicle had.

There was no mistaking who the owner of the beautiful specimen of a car is.

Holy—"Shit."

Jason and Tim had stopped to stare.

"Is that…"

"Th-the B-Batmobile? Y-yes, Babybird, it is."

"No fuckin'—"

"L-language."

"—way." Tim glanced up at his brother with a raised brow. "Y're one t'talk."

Jason shrugged. "Wh-whaddaya want me t-t'say? S'a b-big brother th-thing. It g-gets on m-my nerves t'hear y-you c-curse."

Tim sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. Though the cold stuttering was rather amusing, Tim was also worried his brother would become hypothermic if they stayed out much longer. "Whatever. Le's go."

Jason, though, clearly had different plans.

"J—" They really need nicknames… "Pete?" Middle names should suffice if anyone's around… The people here only care about the names they hear. If someone complains about a Peter Jax… well no one would be found.

Oh, well. Tim would need to find time to tell Jason the new aliases.

Jason motioned Tim forward as he approached the Batmobile. "C-c'mere. K-keep watch f-for th-the B-Bat."

"Peter…"

"I-I'ma s-set t'work on th-the t-tires."

That's suicide."

Jason shrugged, finding a tire iron among the scattered trash bags and liter. "E-extra m-money's useful."

Oh wait I said that out loud?"

Jason gave Tim an unamused look. "Y-es y'd-did."

Snapping his mouth shut, Tim lifted his eyes to the roofs. Whenever it came to money, Jason would never be swayed from his perspective, which was: The more money you have, the better off you are. There's no such thing as too much money when you live on the streets of Crime Alley.

Nearly forty minutes later, Jason's lips were a shade of blue Tim hadn't thought human lips turned, and he was shaking way too badly to finish the fourth tire.

"Peter, we need t'go. Now." Tim would drag Jason away unconscious if he had to. Anything to stop the shivering.

Luckily, Jason seemed to think three tires was enough anyway as he tossed the tire iron aside. Standing on trembling legs, Jason nodded mutely. Hurrying to help his brother, Tim allowed Jason to lean against him, if slightly. The three tires that had been successfully been removed were safely stored away behind several crates in a warehouse not far from where the Batmobile had been parked.

Jason and Tim made their way as far as Lee-Ming's Chinese place before Jason was shaking too hard to move anymore. His breathing was… weird, to put it mildly, his skin was freezing, and Tim was pretty sure that Jason was sweating for some reason.

Tim doesn't like this: supporting Jason's dead weight. It reminds him of the nights Willis would come home a drunken mess and both Tim and Jason would help their father around, get him this and that, and get bottles broken over their heads and backs in return. Jason was the one who was hurt the most and the worst, but Willis would scream at Tim. He'd tell him how much worse he made the family—how much of a burden he was. With just Jason, things had been hard. With Tim in the picture, however, things got to near impossible.

Tim, Willis had once said, was the concrete slab to break the camel's back.

And carrying Jason, now, Tim can't help but remember all those times Willis had yelled at him—had demeaned him—and made him feel worthless. Tim can't help but remember and feel the suffocating despair at being the reason his family is living the way they are.

No. Tim can't—he's not supporting Willis this time, it's Jason, and they haven't seen Willis in days…

It's not Willis.

"Jason?"

Jason's previously shut eyes, fluttered open and he narrowed his eyes a bit in confusion. "Wh-where're w-we? T-Tim?"

A bit relieved and grateful for the focal point in the present, Tim sighed. "Outside Lee-Ming's place."

A pause, then, "Oh." About ten seconds later, Jason's shivering stopped but his breathing hitched and quickened.

"Jason!"

His older brother shuddered and lost consciousness and Tim struggled to keep him upright. They may be thin from hunger, but Jason always made it a point to keep a lean muscular build. Why, Tim still doesn't know.

Panicking, Tim began to yell for help but expected none to come as he ran over options in his head. Maybe he could take Jason to that clinic? But Tim didn't know where it was. Damn! He knew he should have paid more attention when Dick was driving… Uh.. Maybe Ms. Lin was still in the restaurant?

"Everything okay?"

Tim jumped at the voice that sounded behind him. His thoughts had been: If she's still in I'd have to—WHAT THE FUCK WHO THE HELL—Oh. Nightwing. Well, FUCKING SHIT.

Holy… Do the Bats ever not sneak up on people? The jackass freaked the shit out of him!

Wearily, Tim eyed the Blue Knight of Gotham. "No," he answered. "My brother…" Tim glanced over at Jason who's shivering had started back up again. "I-I think he's hypothermic…"

Nightwing eyed Jason before gently lifting him in his arms bridal style—like Jason weighed nothing—and turned to Tim. "Where do you two live?"

Tim shook his head slowly. "There's no heat at home…"

Nightwing frowned. "Okay… How about your parents? Where are they?"

Again, Tim shook his head. "Don't got none 'nymore. S'just me and Jason." No use in lying to the vigilante about Jason's name, Tim figured, so real names it would be.

It seemed impossible, but Nightwing's frown deepened. After a minute, he apparently decided on something. "Follow me," was all he said before turning and running…

Back the way the Batmobile was.

Aw, shit.

Figuring he had no choice, Tim hurried after the older—faster—vigilante as fast as his legs could carry him (which wasn't very fast… Tim isa small 12 year-old…).

Arriving at the Batmobile minutes later ("Holy cripes I've never had to run that fast that long I need a break can we stop now? Yes? Ohthankgod."), Tim had to admit he was slightly amused at the sight that greeted him. Batman was standing over the Batmobile and just staring at it like he couldn't believe he—the God damn Batman—had been robbed in Crime-fucking-Alley.

It was hilarious.

It wasn't funny, though, when Tim noticed that Jason seemed to have worsened. His skin was visibly pale, even in the dim lighting, and he was curled as tight as could be against Nightwing. At the sight of his big brother, the urge to snicker vanished and was replaced with unparalleled worry.

"Batman." The Dark Knight turned to face Nightwing and Tim, eyes falling on the shuddering teen in the younger vigilante's arms.

"What happened." And holy shit, that voice is terrifying. There was no question, just a simple order plain as day. 'Tell me what happened here and why you're holding a boy that looks like he's trying out for Elsa's boyfriend, and a kid that looks like he's nine'.

As he spoke, Batman removed his cape and wrapped Jason in it, carefully picking him up in his strong arms. Tim was nervous, now, because what happens when Batman finds out they're the kids who stole his tires? He'd throw them in juvie, then shit goes to fuck.

Nightwing rested a hand on Tim's shoulder as if sensing his thoughts which, okay, maybe he could and was trying to keep Tim from taking off like a bat outta hell (ha. Bat pun).

This is not helping Tim's paranoia or anxiety… Maybe he should stop.

…Who the fuck is he kidding. Tim couldn't get rid of his paranoia if his life depended on it.

Tim cleared his throat, fiddling with the hem of his too-big shirt. "Um. We were walkin' and Jay was shaking real bad when he passed out. His lips 're too blue and he's cold…" Tim's voice dropped to a whisper. "S'my fault. Jay gave me his jacket so I wouldn't be cold… I should'a made 'im keep it. S'my fault."

He hadn't realized he was crying until Nightwing crouched in front of him and wiped away the tears on Tim's cheeks with the swipe of his thumbs. "It's not your fault—he was just doing what any good big brother would have done. Don't blame yourself okay?" At Tim's shaky nod, the vigilante smiled and enveloped him in a hug.

Batman simply gazed down at the teen in his arms, unsurprised that the cape wasn't helping the teen much. In order for heat to be contained, it must be produced first. Tim leaned into the hug ever so slightly. "We need t'get Jay help," he whispered.

Nightwing nodded and released Tim, turning up to his mentor. "Should we take them to the 'Cave, B?"

Batman nodded once and shifted Jason so that he could press two buttons on his belt. "Someone vandalized the Batmobile. We need to take the bikes."

Even when he's talking normally he still makes Tim shudder in intimidation. And the guy was tryn'a help!

Sometimes, being paranoid makes life miserable.

Suddenly, two motorcycles screeched to a halt on either side of Tim, making him jump. "JESUS FUCK!"

His colorful language eared him a frown from the Dark Knight and a chuckle from the Blue Knight of Gotham. "Language," Batman rumbled, mounting his bike and balancing the unconscious Jason carefully against his chest. A minute later, Batman was speeding away with the screech of his tires against pavement.

"Sorry," Tim mumbled though the Batman could no longer hear him.

Nightwing was already on his bike—a nice sleek black model Jason would know the name of with blue stripes—and motioned for Tim to climb on. "C'mon, kid. Hop on—I don't bite."

"Tim," he blurted.

"Garry!"

"What?"

"I dunno. I thought we were saying random names."

Tim shook his head, fighting a small smile. "No, Tim—that's my name."

Nightwing smiled. "Nice to meet you Tim."

He realized he was still just standing there a second later, and Tim mentally kicked himself. He's wasting time! Batman could already be at the Batcave! Quickly, Tim climbed up on the bike in front of Nightwing, who positioned Tim's hands on the handles.

"Hold on!" was the only warning Tim got before they were screeching away.

Tim let out a surprised yelp before laughing at the adrenaline rush he got. Whooping, he heard Nightwing mirror his laugh behind him.

Maybe tonight wouldn't be too bad after all.