Chapter Text
Tim Drake
Jason was ready to do anything at this point if it meant getting some sleep. It had been a long past few days of glorified hide-n-seek with the latest Arkham escapees, and finally, after four days with little to no rest, every single maniac were back in their cells for the next few days. And then the whole thing starts right on over again.
But as of right now, everyone was safe. The villains and maniacs were safely in their cells or straightjackets. The citizens of Gotham were enjoying a few days off from the Rouge attacks.
And Jason’s family was safe and resting.
Well. Almost everyone.
Jason grumbled as he stumbled over to where the idiotic Babybird was still working on the Batcomputer even though it was nearly midnight and everyone was supposed to be in bed. In fact, the only reason he was up was that he couldn’t remember if his guns were securely locked away. So if he can’t remember, then he gets his ass up out of bed and checks just to make sure. It was a nervous habit of his. But when he finally got downstairs, Jason found Tim, glued to the computer, files open and papers scattered about.
Guns momentarily forgotten, Jason sighed and made his way over to the little psycho child that dared stay awake longer than necessary.
“Timbo. Timberlina. Timbuktu. Timmy. Timmers. Why the everloving hell are you up?” Jason asked as he draped his arms over the back of the big chair in front of the supercomputer and his brother at the same time.
“I have things to do.” Clipped Tim.
“Can’t they wait until morning? Normal people do this thing called resting. You might have heard of it. Its a verb, meaning to cease work in order to regain ones strength before the next batch of crazies walk out of Arkham.”
Tim groaned in frustration and finished up typing hi sentence before turning and glaring at his older brother. “Why don’t you go and piss off? Seems to be the only thing you’re good at.” After giving Jason a piece of his mind, Tim turned back to his work.
Even just a few months ago, Jason would have given into the bait and pissed off as Tim suggested. But now Jason was no fool. He knew that Tim was just trying to get him raging mad so he will leave him alone. Nice try Timmy. You aren’t fooling this big brother.
So Jason started to applaud, nice and slow. “Wow. Way to nail being the asshole. I give it a solid B+. The only problem,” Jason swung the chair around so Tim was looking him in the eye. “Is that I am already the family asshole. Which means that no one can do it better than me. So give me your best Timtam, no one can out asshole the asshole, and I’m not leaving.”
Tim’s eyes were wide with shock and red from lack of any proper rest. And honestly, Jason was expecting arguing,, yelling, possibly punching, but not tears. Tim slid forward, exhaustion finally catching up with the teen, and would have face-planted onto the cave floor if it wasn’t for Jason catching the lanky teen and pulling him into his arms. “Shh, Timmy. I gotcha. Everything is alright and you can rest now.”
He continued to rock back and forth to get the Tim to try and relax. Jason didn’t care if Tim fell asleep since he knew he could easily carry him upstairs to his own personal room because he was not leaving Tim alone right now.
Throughout his little breakdown, Tim cried and begged to let him go back to work, stating that he needed to prove his worth and stay ahead of the game. And with every argument, Jason counterargued with comforting words and kindness. But it was still heartbreaking to hear Tim constantly belittle himself and promise to be better.
After a while, Tim’s heavy sobs tapered off to small hiccups and sniffles. Jason knew that they had to get upstairs soon since Tim was probably freezing, near hypothermic, seeing as he had practically lived in the cave the last few days and it was the middle of winter. The teen claimed to be just fine, but Jason could feel the shivers wracking Tim’s small frame.
Carefully, Jason set down Tim and started to take off his warm, leather jacket. “One second Tim, I’m not leaving I promise,” Jason declared when Tim’s breathing started to pick up. After shedding his jacket, all the warmth left his body and the cold seeped into his bones and seemed to penetrate his very soul, but he didn’t care. He needed to get Tim warmed up.
Finally, Jason was able to manhandle Tim into the jacket and watched as the safe, comforting leather worked its magic. Instantly, Tim calmed down. His shoulders which were tight with tension finally made their way down from his ears. The shaking calmed down as the tiny teen soaked in the warmth from the jacket. It was far too big on him, but Tim just curled up into the jacket, enjoying the comfort.
When Tim was finally almost asleep, Jason stood up, taking the teen with him. Tim was far to light in his arms and Jason winced when he realized just how easy it was to carry him. He definitely didn’t weigh even close to what he was supposed to.
“Wh’re g’in?” Tim slurred once he ralized that he was being picked up.
“We are going to my room Babybird. Bruce and I just got it all set back up with my current tastes and you and I are going to test out how comfy the bed is. And just how warm the blankets are because holy shit kid! Have you not heard of socks?! Your feet are like little ice cubes against my body!!” Jason questioned without much heat when he heard small snickers making their way from the child in his arms.
“Dn’t n’d sl’p.” Protested Tim, falling back asleep as the leather jacket continued to work it’s magic.
“Well that is simply not true Timtam. It is a well known fact that all Babybirds need at least eight hours of beauty sleep a night. And something tells me that no one enforced a bedtime on you much as a kid, which monumentally screwed up your sleep schedule and Bruce is to much of a cowardly lion to approach his teenage son on his sleeping habits. How much of that did I get right on a scale of one to ten?”
Ten fingers made their way into Jason’s view. Thenhe put them down before puttng up another ten fingers. Then he did the same thing again. And again. Jason got the picture.
The two middle children arrived in front of Jason’s door covered in ‘enter at your own risk’ and ‘warning’ signs. “Well for the foreseeable future, I will be your new bedtime enforcer. Starting right now.” Jason pulled back the sheets and deposited the now sleeping teen, jacket included, onto his bed. After slipping a pair of fuzzy socks onto Tim’s little ice cube feet, Jason felt safe enough to climb into bed. And as it turns out, Tim was a cuddler. Jason had barely been in bed two seconds before Timmy turned over and latched onto his older brother like a leech.
When Jason woke up the next morning, he was freezing. When he remembered the previous nights events, he glanced over to see if his little brother was still with him and to figure out why he was so cold. Somehow, in the middle of the night, Tim had managed to cocoon himself in all the blankets. Every single one of Jason massive blanket collection was wrapped around his little brother. All Jason was left with, was one fuzzy sock that Tim had kicked off in his sleep.
Coming to terms with his current predicament, Jason rolled out of bed and threw on his warmest sweater since no sweater could compare with the warmth that was his leather jacket. Which, along with all his blankets and his fuzziest pair of socks, was also currently inhabited by a little brother. But tis the life of a big brother.
Jason was the first one downstairs even though it was nearing nine in the morning, but he didn’t really care. It meant he got first dibs on crepes and homemade hot chocolate. Over the next half an hour, the rest of the family (Babs, Steph, and Cass included) made their way downstairs for breakfast. But there was no sign of a ceratin Babybird. And Jason would bet good money that he was still inhabiting his bed, blanetks, jacket and socks.
The little thief.
Not that Jason really cared much since he managed to get some awesome blackmail photos when he woke up that morning, of a certain snoring child coconed in his bedding.
“Wheres Tim?” Questioned Bruce. Jason smirked but didn’t answer. He loved playing with his father’s head.
No one had seen the teen, and after everyone had spoken and Bruce’s nervous eye twitch was starting up, only then did he finally speak up.
“Timmy is in my room. I caught him up at midnight working himself into oblivion downstairs.”
“And you didn’t say anything why…?” Bruce trailed off, his raised eyebrow gettin the point across.
“Because it is far to fun messing with your head old man. And I thought you were going to lock Tim off of the computer after a certain time?”
Bruce sighed in despair. “I did. I created a super complicated code that was supposed to be Tim proof which shuts down the computer, but saves all his work, after eleven PM on the nights we aren’t patrolling. The very same night I put the code into place, I went downstairs the next morning to find Tim working on the computer. He laughed to my face, claiming that I would have to try harder to stop him.” Jason almost felt bad for the old man. Almost. But he did make a little promise to himself in his head that he would start helping Bruce get Tim to bed on time. Not that he said that outloud.
Just as breakfast was coming to an end, Tim entered the room looking like death himself. The one sockthat remained was half-on, half-off his right foot. The other one still missing,probably still in his bed. The kids sweatpants were twisted and a corner of Tim’s T-shirt was tucked into one end. The leather jacket was still protectively wrapping the kid in a warm embrace. But the designer bruises under Tim’s eyes revealed just how tired Tim still was.
“Good morning Timmers! Did you sleep good? I heard about some of your adventures last night regarding a cerain supercomputer. Know anything about that?” Bruce sarcastically greeted his son. But Tim just walked right past Bruce and into the kitchen. There he grabbed the whole put of coffee, raised it to his lips and chugged half the pot without once stopping for a breath.
‘Oh hell no.’ Though Jason. Just as Tim was about to go in for the last littl bit of bean juice, he was stopped by a large hand pulling away his life source. Tim let of a frustrated/tired/confused sound as he feebly tried to reach for the precious coffee.
“No can do kiddo. We are having a relaxing day and you are catching up on some much needed sleep. Seriously kid, when was the first time you slept before last night?” It was a rhetorical question, but when Tim actually started counting out days on his fingers, Jason stared in shock. Only after the first five fingers were counted and Tim was moving on to the next hand for more fingers, did Jason finally stop him.
“Rhetorical question Babybird. But I get the idea. Now we are going to the couch and turning on the most mind numbing pieces of shit show I can find and you are going to eat breakfast before taking a nap. Crystal?”
No reply except for a small head nod. Tim started to shuffle around and take off the jacket. Once it was off, he handed it back to Jason, though the look on his face ratted himself out and Jason knew that Tim didn’t want to leave the safely of the jacket just quite yet.
“Leave on the jacket Timmers. I can go without it for a little longer.”
Jason bent down and helped Tim’s sleepy arms pull back on the jacket and then zipped it up. It was close to a dress on the tiny teen, but Tim smiled and hummed in content at the comfort that Jason’s leather jacket provided.