Badly injured Dick or nightwing with Jason getting all mushy snd emotional thinking Dick's actually dying this time (because fake deaths don't count in Jason's book). Pretty please if that's okay.
Sorry this took so long but I loved the prompt the minute I saw it! :)
It’s almost morning when he walks into the cave expecting a good, big, fat fight. Screams and accusations thrown at him with deadly intentions, and then fists and kicks and bo staffs and daggers to finish the job. He’s ready to take it too, honestly. Well, not the daggers maybe. But insults and a couple of fists? Yeah, he’ll give the kids that. He knows he deserves it.
But the cave is quieter than ever, only a distant beeping of machines and the lazy flapping of wings from a couple of insomniac bats to fill the silence, and as Jason carefully ventures towards the med bay it becomes pretty evident that there are no little birds hidden in the shadows trying to kill him. How weird.
The only thing that hits him the moment he sets a foot in the infirmary, is the strong smell of blood. It’s not a strange occurrence, and it’s definitely not an unfamiliar one, but his stomach turns anyway.
He finds Dick exactly where he expected him to be, strapped to the gurney in the middle of the room, wrapped in bloodstained bandages quite literally from head to toes. Five bullets, Tim said. One grazed him just above the right ear, one in the shoulder, two - the worst ones - in his chest, and one in his left leg. A big, blue, Nightwing-shaped bull’s eye, that’s what his brother looks like. And it’s Jason fault.
“Hey”, a tired voice says, and Jason shifts his gaze to look at Tim, currently sitting crossed-legged on the floor of the room at the feet of Dick’s bed, hands tinkering with a device Jason doesn’t recognize. He takes in the dark circles under his eyes, the messy hair, the rigid posture, and his brain immediately conjures a red neon sign flashing the words not good into his mind.