All right, some practice with narration. Let me know what you think! Thanks!

Chapter 13

The bullet that hit him wasn't too bad. Hurt like a bitch, but still, just a shoulder wound.

Lucky.

No, that shot wasn't too bad. It was the second shot that ripped into his side that really hurt like a mother…

Without realizing when or how, Tim was on the ground, holding his side as the slickness of crimson streams rained down. He choked on the copper taste and cried out in pain. Vaguely he heard his brothers shifting around him and he tried to push himself up... He landed in a heap on the ground.

Nope. Sorry, Timmy, Muscle is definitely out for the day. Can I take a message or you just wanna pass out now? His mind bit out sarcastically. Fuck you he said back. It laughed, That would be improbable.

Wow. He was already out of it enough to start a conversation with himself. Way-to-go, Tim. Honestly, what was the harm in another ludicrous word or two?

Oh, right. He was bleeding profusely.

He let out a shuddering breath and collapsed. His body was blazing; whatever floodgates had been opened by the bullets could not seem to be closed. Tim tried to catch at the crimson fluid in his hands, but was shocked as each drop slipped past. His eyes began to glaze over as his heart beat loudly in his ears.

In a matter of moments, Bruce was there. His father wrapped strong arms around him and hefted him from the ground. Tim paid the older man the courtesy of going limp, but the action caused him to cough painfully as the man brought him to bear and began to run. Each step jostled his bones even as endorphins rushed through his system. Then atop it all, his mind was consumed with another sight: over the muscle of his father's arm he saw Barracks go down in a flare of blood and gore.

The man was torn apart. Jason was blank and afraid. Dick pulled their brother away. Damian screamed. Tim bled.

That was when the world went dark and gray and harsh.

Vaguely Tim wondered at last if he would ever see Gotham again.

…

When Tim opened his eyes to the unfamiliar place, his heart just about jumped out of his chest. His memory came back to him in a rush, and he frantically searched the house for any sign of his family – only to find them asleep in a pile on the floor.

Together the group clumped atop pillows and blankets that lay out sporadically. Damian had fallen asleep with his head propped up against Jason's lap while Dick leaned back on the younger man's other side. Behind them and with an all-encompassing embrace Bruce held the three closely. Jason looked as though he had changed and his arm was wrapped, which Tim could only assume meant his wounds had already been seen to.

Jason… He could still see Barracks and the pain written on his brother's face at the loss of the older man. Tim wasn't sure how the two had originally met, but he still felt the grief. Barracks had been a good man to them, he had kept them informed even after Jason had been taken. Barracks had defended them in the Hellhole, though he had never spoken more than a few words. Tim wondered if the man had ever really conversed with Jason.

Tim was startled from his thoughts when the person in question blinked twice before looking more awake. He sat up, off the shoulder of his father, and looked around. When he saw Tim staring, he froze. They blinked at each other for a few awkward moments. "How are you feeling?" Jason asked after a period of time.

"Fine… um… how are you?"

"Fine."

His mind berated him all at once and he couldn't stop himself from asking it. "Did you… Did you remember how you met Barracks?"

Pain flashed across his brother's face, but it was gone almost instantaneously. He deadpanned. "Yeah. I remembered him."

Tim looked away, avoiding eye contact for a few moments.

Jason carried on anyways. "He owed me for somethin. He was a good man, a Seal. Had a wife and kids back home…"

"I'm sorry."

The older man shook his head and smiled slightly, though Tim could see the grief hidden there. He chose not to acknowledge it. "Well… I don't know why, but I have this really weird preoccupation with food… So how's about I check around for some breakfast, hmm?" Tim nodded, grateful for the swift topic change. "All right then. Maybe this whole big brother thing isn't such a bad thing after all."

"Was there ever any doubt?" Tim asked.

Jason shrugged; he lifted Damian off his lap and placed the child onto Bruce before standing.

Thirty minutes of rummaging through the kitchen later and two protein bars were thrown in his direction. "Sorry, Buddy, that's all I've got that's still good. There are a few cans left, but I figure we should save those until we absolutely need them."

Tim nodded and fiddled with the wrappers before finally biting into the bars. In moments he could feel the energy swamping him and the fog lift in his mind. He sighed contentedly. "I think I might kiss you." Jason laughed quietly.

"Thanks, lil' bro, but curb that impulse."

Tim smiled at the endearing term.

The older man slowly lowered himself to the ground, wincing as he did so. His burn was probably still killing him. "Barracks was a good guy. Those things… they got to him…"

"Do you remember anything about... when you were gone? What happened to you?" Tim could tell he was uncomfortable, but he had to know.

Jason's eyes went unfocused, as though he were being attacked and had gone into self-preservation mode. A minute later and after some prodding from Tim, Jason's body relaxed marginally and his eyes regained some of their focus. "I get flashes, sometimes. I see myself, but… I'm not physically in my body, it's… surreal. Like Déjà vu, but stronger and more vivid." He paused, seeming to arrange his thoughts around a singular issue. "I remember the pain sometimes, the overwhelming flood of my senses."

Jason sighed and looked away, refusing to elaborate further. "I'm sorry, Jason. I didn't even realize what your plan was until it was far too late… I let my suspicion—"

"We're not playing a game of blame here, kid. Believe me, if we were talking about that you'd know."

Tim recalled all the times that the Red Hood had struck out at Bruce in anger – yeah, he would know if Jason was angry with him.

"Do you remember what happened before you were taken?"

"Look, kid, I'm sorry, but my head is killing me right now. I can't think about this right now." The older man shut his eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Tim nodded towards the bed in the corner. "Why don't you rest there instead of, you know, on the floor. It would probably give you at least a few hours of quality rest."

Jason shook his head once more. "I don't like sleeping in a bed. Just feels uncomfortable to me."

A smile touched his lips; the street kid was definitely still omnipotent in Jason. However, a mumbled "I see," was all Tim responded with.

"Get some rest, Baby Bird."

Tim was about to protest when his mind caught up to the words Jason had said. Baby Bird that was his nickname… but how could Jason know about it? Did he remember? Whatever the case... Tim's eyes were drooping and his wounds were beginning to throb again. Sleep cried out to him, coaxing him from the waking world preternaturally.

Tim would have to think about this later, bring it up to Bruce and Dick. As it was, he settled back and let his brother's gentle wheezing lull him to sleep. From the tip of his awareness he saw Jason smile easily and relax enough to rest in the little nest the Robins (and a certain Bat) had formed.

Please leave a review and check out the poll on my profile… I'm trying to decide if I want to write more of these. Thanks again!