When I awoke to the musky sunlight streaming through the windows, he was gone. No evidence of last night at all. It was as if he had been a midnight hallucination, a lucid dream.
I sat up and breathed in the smell of home. The mansion always had a familiar oaky smell to it, as if it was just carved into a tree. The smell of family and acceptance.
The light came in slanted, throwing shadows across the floor. I remembered yesterday morning as the same, only in my apartment. I had sat on my kitchen counter and smoked a cigarette with no knowledge of this madness.
I slipped on my jeans from yesterday and walked down the stairs to find Jason sitting defensively at the table. His arms were crossed and his chin was set back, angrily. Alfred set a plate of steaming food in front of him, he did not touch it. Bruce sat across from Jason, sternly looking at him.
It seemed to be some weird staring contest. Damian was cheerfully eating his food, as if not noticing the tension. Sometimes, that kid actually acted like a kid. Sometimes, you could see a hint of childlike wonder still residing inside him.
"Is Tim here yet?" I walked into view and saw Jason visibly relax. He knew I was on his side. He knew that I could save him from the big bad daddy-bats.
"He is on his way." Bruce answered gruffly, not even looking at me.
"Good morning Master Dick." Alfred greeted me with as much enthusiasm as he could muster this early in the morning. "I trust you slept well?"
I went into panic mode, thinking he knew about Jason sneaking in last night. I nodded without looking into his eyes and sat down in between Jason and Damian. I caught Jason shooting me a pleading glance, but I could barely return the gesture.
"So what is it?" Bruce laid his hands on the table.
"Joker knows our secret identities." I spoke after Jason sat, mutely staring at the floor.
"I suppose that's his fault?" Bruce nodded to Jason as if he wasn't even in the room.
"It's not like that…"I muttered. "It wasn't his fault."
"Mhmm." Bruce sat, contemplating his next move.
"A few hired men already got after me in my apartment. We were afraid that you or Tim would be the next target." I hoped that Tim was on his way soon. I didn't want him to get hurt on the fact that I slept in and Jason suddenly lost his ability to speak.
"How did they find out who we are, Grayson?" Damian finally looked up from his plate to us, mirroring Bruce's stern expression.
"A slip up." Jason spoke up softly. "I was careless."
Bruce nodded as if this was the most normal thing in the world. I looked at Jason; hopefully he would get some support from me.
"I will deal with it." Bruce got up, tossing his napkin on the table, and headed to the batcave.
"Told you. He wants nothing to do with me," Jason hissed.
"It's not personal." I said, rubbing his shoulder.
Damian's piercing gaze was much like Bruce's. It betrayed no emotion. He was very different from a regular child. He seemed to pick up on things that not even I noticed. He really was the son of Batman.
"Is there something going on between you two?" He asked, giving a questioning glance. I did not understand what he meant until Jason got up abruptly and left.
"Ohhh…" I leaned back in my chair, feeling his warm body gone from my reach. I got it. To be honest, I was surprised Damian would think that. Although, my thoughts the past few days seemed to say different. To say that I'd never thought about Jason as a lover would be a lie. He was a good man, just misunderstood. Just, been though some incredibly hard times.
I got up and followed Jason out of the room.
"It is too late, I'm going to check on him." I walked down to the batcave and announced to Bruce. He was sitting at the computer, furiously typing away. He barely acknowledged my presence, so I took a motorcycle and drove out.
Jason was waiting for me at the end of the driveway.
"Need a ride?" I smiled up at him through my helmet. He said nothing. He straddled the cycle behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt a familiar flutter go through my heart and I tried not to make it noticeable. It scared me, this sudden urge to pull him into my arms and kiss him passionately.
I revved the engine and drove off, leaving those thoughts in the dust.
By the time we reached Tim's, Jason had not let his iron grip on my waist go, and I was strangely okay with that. We parked the bike and rang the bell for his apartment.
I became worried after the third ring. I knew that something was wrong, I just knew it. Jason was strangely quiet through my mental breakdown, of course.
I started pacing.
"You are such a girl," He remarked, from the bike. "There is an old fire escape around back." He gestured around the building while pulling a cigarette to his lips.
I rushed off in the direction of the back. I found a small, rusty fire escape and scaled it effortlessly. I found Tim's window, and at only a little bit of tugging and prodding, it popped open. I crawled in.
I noticed the smell first. It alarmed my other senses and I ducked in. Although, I was in civilian dress, so it's not like I had much to fight with. It was metallic and stagnant.
Tim lay in the middle of the floor, curled in a ball. I saw the pool of blood spreading from him. He was so young. Only seventeen. He shivered. The movement sent my mind into action.
I searched the small apartment for any sign of the intruders, but they had left. I crouched down to Tim and placed my hand on his shoulder. He shivered again. There was so much blood.
"JASON!" I yelled frantically. "JASON!"
He came up the fire escape faster than I had.
"You don't need to scream Dickie-bird." He squeezed himself through the small window. "I'm right her…oh God."
In any other time, I would have blushed when he called me Dickie –bird. But now I couldn't. My mind was going a million miles a minute. I pulled Tim into my arms, looking for his injury.
"No…no…no…not again. Not again. No. Not again." I muttered, rocking back and forth on my heels.
I felt the tears fall from my eyes as Jason looked at me. I read hurt, anger, sadness, regret…so much flashed across his face. So much pain. I felt a surge of anger pulse through my veins.
"He held me…like that." He fell back on his butt. I glared at him then returned to Tim. Jason had to make everything about him.
"It's not all about you Jason! Fucking look at him!" I screamed, tears falling from my lids. I jerked him up to me, willing him to open his eyes.
"Fuck! Stop! Put him down!" Jason's eyes widened. "Stop it Dick!"
"This is not about you!" I screamed at him incoherently.
"Stop it, just look!" He came over. "It's his back. Put him down now Dick. You could be hurting him really badly."
Sure enough, I ran my fingers down his spine and found two sets of matching bullet holes. My body went rigid. It was my fault. All my fault. I made everything worse.
I laid him back in the position he was in, trying not to screw up any more. Jason went into the kitchen and called Bruce. Bruce would be here faster than any ambulance.
"I'm sorry Jason." I didn't look up. I stroked Tim's hair and laid my hand on his neck. His pulse was steady, but weak.
"He will be okay." He knelt down next to me. I know he felt uncomfortable, this family he never knew.
"I can't let this happen again." I turned from Tim and laid my head in Jason's shirt. I stained its white surface with Tim's blood. I cried, letting everything out. From the poor man dying, to Jason last night and Tim now. I let it all out. Jason put his hand to my head, holding me tight against him. He rested his head on top of mine and I listened to his heartbeat. He is going to be okay, he is going to live. I repeated it over and over in my head.
Jason stroked my hair, letting me break in half. He watched over Tim's form. He made sure that he was still breathing, that he was still alive. He felt obligated too. Obligated to not let another member of this family die.