Dick semi woke up because he was freezing. He grumbled and moved his hand around the bed in search of his many warm blankets. His hand found only the thin blanket he was already cocooned in. His brows furrowed in displeasure and he reached up instead to snatch one of the fluffy pillows to cuddle for warmth. He was met with a hard, flattened lump of material and whatever stuffing was used to make this excuse for a pillow he was half laying on. Come to think about it, the bed was a lot harder, almost stiff as a board, than the one he went to sleep in.
Dick cautiously peeked one eye open and immediately sat up, suddenly wide awake and on high alert.
He wasn't in his bedroom in Blüdhaven. No. He was in a small, dark room. The bed was tucked into a corner hidden by the part of the wall with an entrance to the room. It was facing a window, which was covered by thick curtains. Beside the bed was a small bedside drawer with a barely holding itself together lamp without a shade, a half finished book and a pistol. Opposite the bed was a table and a chair with brown leather jacket thrown over the backrest. The wall over the table was covered in clippings from the newspapers.
Cautiously, Dick edged away from the handgun as if it was going to go off if he moved too fast to the end of the bed closer to the window. He stood up, ducking down to avoid hitting the ceiling and slowly tucked the curtain aside. It didn't improve the lighting in the room. In fact Dick preferred the curtains to the glass less window covered with boards and plastic foil.
Sighing, Dick returned the curtain to it's place and moved back to turn on the lamp and looked around, taking in more details. There were shoes by the bed. Black, heavy combat boots. Dick put them on, not wanting to leave his bare feet at the mercy of the dirty carpet. He moved to the table. On the chair were neatly folded clothes. The table was littered with notes and blueprints of some buildings, but Dick's attention was drawn to the wall. There were pictures and articles of him, Tim and Bruce in and out of the costume. Some of them had holes in them, he noted that for all of Bruce's pictures and a few of Tim's. One even still had a knife embedded in the place where Red Robin's face was. There was only one photo of Robin, with a question mark written on it.
Dick gritted his teeth. Whoever owned this place had a serious grudge against Batman and Red Robin and knew their identities. He needed to let Bruce know. After he would investigate a little more.
The doorless entrance led to the short corridor. On the right was a wardrobe with sliding door, on the left were doors with light switch on the side. He peeked into the wardrobe. It was empty, besides the bag filled with various weapons, one change of clothes, a few burner phones and a red helmet. Dick raised an eyebrow at it, took one of the phones and turned to examine the locked room. It turned out to be a bathroom. On the right was a sink, right in front of him the toilet and on the left was a half ripped out shower curtain, separating a part of the tiny space for the actual shower. Dick grimaced, but squeezed himself inside, put the phone on the shelf above the sink and took care of the business he realized he had the moment he discovered the bathroom. He turned to the sink to wash his hands and splashed some water on his face to freshen up. He lifted his eyes to the mirror hanging above the shelf out of habit and froze.
The face staring back at him wasn't his own.
Defined jaw, hard bluegreen eyes, short black hair with a white fringe on the front, a serious case of muscles. Dick leaned a little closer to stare at his reflection. The man was familiar somehow. He saw him before. He leaned closer still, the light shining from such an angle that made his eyes blue and suddenly Dick knew. He reared back in shock, his hand flying to his mouth to muffle his startled gasp.
It was Jason. Jason. His little brother.
Dick's eyes watered as he reached to touch the face in the mirror. Jason's face. Jason's grown up face. Which Dick was currently wearing. Which meant Jason was alive. And probably in Dick's body. And oh God his little brother was alive.
A sob escaped him, followed by another. He splashed his face again, to help himself to calm down. His eyes landed on the phone.
He should call Bruce. Tell him everything, so they could bring Jay home. But… He remembered the clippings on the wall. Clearly Jason didn't harbor any warm feelings toward Bruce and Tim at the moment, so he didn't think it was good idea to involve them just yet. Besides he was feeling selfish. He wanted to keep Jason for himself for now. Bruce didn't even tell him Jason died, so why Dick should tell him his little brother was alive and kicking asses?
His mind made up, he picked the cell and dialed his own number, nervously waiting for the pick up on the other side of the line. What would Jason say? What he would say? What he should even say? There wasn't any protocol for this.
The call connected, but the lump in his throat prevented Dick from saying something. Jason didn't say anything either.
There was silence, before Dick managed to strangle out a very broken "Jason".
"Jason," he repeated more easily a moment later. "Little Wing."
"Don't," Jason growled with Dick's voice. "Don't call me that."
"Jason," Dick amended, afraid to scare him off. "Jason."
God, Dick was so pathetic. He couldn't say anything beside his brother's name.
"Did you call Bruce?" Jason demanded.
"What?" Dick choked out. Oh, look it, progress. "No!"
Jason's sigh of relief was very audible.
"And even if I did," Dick sniffed wetly, "I have no idea where I am."
"Are you crying?" Jason sounded horrified. "Jesus Christ, don't you dare. Not in my body, you hear me?"
Dick laughed and cried some more. It was real. Jason was really alive and talking to him.
"I swear to God, Dickhead," his little brother threatened, "I'll wring your neck."
"Jason, I..." Dick sniffed. "Please."
Jason heaved a put-upon sigh, but he sounded a bit more gentle when he started speaking again.
"I'm coming to get you. Just stay there, don't call Bruce or anybody and try not to look too pathetic when I get there, okay? Stay there."
"Okay," Dick agreed quietly.
"Good," Jason stated. "I'll be there soon."
The connection ended and Dick stared at the phone for a few minutes. He wanted to call back and have Jason talk to him until he could see him in person, but his little brother was already annoyed with his clinging.
He shook himself and walked back to the room to get dressed. Then he pulled the bag from the wardrobe and started packing Jason's belongings. Like hell he was allowing Jason to stay in this hole. Whether he liked it or not, his little brother was coming home with him.