Flying never got old for Dick. The feeling of the wind in his hair, the split second of free fall before he shot out another grappling line — even though it had long since become second nature to him, it was thrilling every time. It just felt so free in a way that almost nothing else could compare.

Well, perhaps the trapeze, but even that wasn't nearly as thrilling without someone else to do the tricks with, and the only one available to him was in the Batcave. Some of his fondest memories were of his parents tossing him from one to the other on the trapeze, spinning end over end before being safely caught in one of their hands. There was never any real danger, but it was still so exhilarating flirting with the idea.

He shot out another grappling line, vaguely heading uptown but not really caring where he went in particular. He reached the peak of his swing and let go, doing a backflip before he shot out a line again, and an invigorated laugh burst out of him.

"Well, guess we've gotten to that time of the night where Nightwing's doing stupidly fancy flips off of buildings or some shit to keep himself entertained," Dick heard Tim say over the comms.

He was patrolling with the rest of the bats in Gotham, as was becoming increasingly common for him. It wasn't that he'd given up on Blüdhaven, he did still check in every so often, it was just that there was nothing really tying him to the city anymore. He didn't have a job there anymore — he'd quit the police force several years before — and once he and Jason had become more serious, it felt stupid to put more distance between them. So he'd moved back to Gotham.

At first, he'd tried to keep up with going to Blüdhaven every night, but it just wasn't sustainable. He still kept a couple safehouses there, and he still took cases based there, but mainly he worked out of Gotham.

Everyone seemed to be on the comms tonight, spread out across the city on various cases or patrol areas. Everyone except Jason, that was. He'd decided to take a case with Roy out in stupid Arkansas, much to Dick's displeasure.

"It wasn't off of a building," Dick protested.

"So you are doing unnecessary acrobatics," Tim shot back.

"Found Scarecrow," he heard Barbara say, interrupting their banter. Scarecrow had broken out of Arkham the night before, and it had only been a matter of time before he showed up again. "He's got a couple of civilians cornered in the alley beside the laundromat on 6th, probably going to give them some fear toxin."

"I'm nearby," Stephanie's voice came over the comms. "On it."

"You're not taking on Scarecrow alone, who's backup?" Bruce asked.

"Me, already on my way," Tim said. "ETA three minutes."

Dick made an abrupt turn midair, and started heading east, toward where he'd left his motorcycle just in case they needed extra backup. Scarecrow could be nasty, and he'd managed to gas or shoot up several of them with his fear toxin before.

He could hear Stephanie and Tim fighting Scarecrow as he started his motorcycle and took off.

"Shit, Red just got an armful of fear toxin," Stephanie said over the comms, and Dick urged his bike faster. "Scarecrow's run off. Heading toward seventh."

The buildings blurred as Dick whipped past them. Scarecrow on the loose was never good — who knew how much fear toxin he had on him.

"Red Robin has some antidote in his belt, should I bank on Scarecrow not having changed the formula since last time?" Stephanie asked.

"Try it," Bruce directed. "I'll pick him up and bring him back to the Cave. I'm five minutes out."

"I'm almost there," Dick said. 

"Me too," Cass added.

"Ambulance is on the way for the victims." Stephanie's voice paused, presumably as she assessed Tim. "I don't think the antidote did anything, he's still shaking pretty bad."

"Spotted," Cass cut back in. "Scarecrow, Ninth and East Street."

Dick pulled up just in time to see Cass in front of a run-down flower shop, zip-tying the hands of an unconscious Scarecrow behind his back. 

"Well, I feel a bit useless," he joked. Truthfully, he didn't really care, he was just glad that somebody had brought him down.

Cass grinned up at him. Or, at least, he assumed she did — it was hard to tell with the cowl.

She leaned back down and pulled a full syringe (which was thankfully still in one piece) from Scarecrow's pocket.

"I can take that back to B, if you're good to stay here and wait 'til they haul him away. I was planning on heading back to the Cave for some research after this anyway."

Cass nodded and handed the syringe over.

By the time he got to the Cave, Bruce and Tim were already back.

"Hey B, I got a sample of the fear toxin Scarecrow was using," he announced, heading back to the medical area.

"Thank you, Nightwing." He held his hand out for it without looking up. "I was able to quell some of the side effects, but I was hoping somebody would get some to help synthesize an actual antidote more quickly."

Tim looked pale where he was lying on the medical gurney, and he was still trembling slightly, eyes clenched tightly shut as beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

"You think he's gonna try to claw my face off if I touch him?"

"Doesn't seem to be that type of fear toxin this time, thankfully. Batgirl and I were able to get him into the Batmobile just fine."

"Good." Dick picked Tim's trembling hand up off the stiff sheets, and squeezed it tightly. Tim squeezed back.

Dick stayed by his bedside, squeezing his hand and stroking his hair back from his forehead, talking to him calmingly as Bruce worked.

"Hold his arm still for me," Bruce grunted, filling a clean syringe with antidote.

Bruce flicked the side of the syringe and pushed the plunger up a bit to get rid of the air bubbles, then came up beside Dick. Dick was holding Tim's arm to keep it from trembling, one hand a few inches above the inside of his elbow, and the other a few inches below.

"The good thing about being so tense is at least the veins stand out well," Bruce muttered, swiping an alcohol pad over the area. He quickly slid the needle into the vein in the inside of Tim's elbow and depressed the plunger.

Tim gave a full-body shudder as Bruce pulled the needle out and slapped a Hello Kitty bandaid on.

Dick raised an eyebrow at the bandaid. "Didn't know you were such a fan."

"Hn. Mysteriously all we had left."

Dick grinned. Oh yeah, he had forgotten Jason had switched out all the bandaids in the Cave last week to annoy Bruce.

Tim's tensed muscles finally started to relax. "Gah, I'm achy," he croaked after a minute.

"Having your entire body tensed up for over an hour will do that," Dick said.

Tim grimaced. "Yeah." He shook his head a little. "So that was fucking awful. Remind me not to go after Scarecrow ever again."

"You need help getting upstairs?" Dick asked.

"No, just...give me a minute." After a few seconds, he grabbed Dick's arm, and hauled himself up to sitting. "Oof I feel like I got run over."

Dick made a sympathetic noise.

"If you're making sure he gets upstairs into bed, then I'm going to head out and finish up patrol," Bruce said.

Dick nodded and waved him off.

"I don't need an escort to get upstairs," Tim protested, as Bruce headed across the Cave to the Batmobile.

"Mhm." Dick didn't bother to sound like he believed him. "Because you're so well known for going to bed when you're told. You're getting an escort so you don't do something like try to go back to your apartment." He held out his arm for Tim to grab, and then paused, looking him over. "Let's find you something so you can get out of your costume first, or Alfred will have our heads. I take it you're not really up to a shower right now?"

Tim grimaced, but nodded. "Yeah I don't think so." Better to admit it now than to try to force himself through it and have his still-shaky legs collapse under him. He really didn't fancy taking a fall to the hard tile floor right now — his poor body had been through enough tonight.

He let his legs dangle off the side of the gurney and carefully peeled his mask off his face as Dick rummaged through his locker.

"Here." Dick tossed him a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, and turned away, heading back to the lockers to get changed himself. No costumes in the manor was a rule for a reason.

They got dressed quickly, and shoved their uniforms and boots into their lockers. 

"You think Alfred will give me coffee?" Tim asked. "I know I'm not supposed to have it so late, but I just went through an ordeal, I think I deserve it." 

Dick wrapped an arm around his waist for support, and Tim reluctantly let him take some of his weight, putting an arm over Dick's shoulders. He really hated needing to lean on people, but he thought he would hate getting up close and personal with the floor right now a bit more.

"Not a chance. You're supposed to be going to sleep. To recover from said ordeal." Dick led him to the elevator, and Tim huffed.

"I'm twenty one, I should really be able to make my own coffee choices by now."

Dick rolled his eyes as they got into the elevator. "Well you can be the one to tell Alfred that. Can't wait to see how that pans out."

Tim did not pout the entire rest of the way to his old room. Definitely not. That would be childish.

"Alright, in you get," Dick said, holding back the covers.

"I can get into the bed myself, Dick," Tim said annoyedly, but he slid into the bed.

"I know, but I'm tucking you in. You've had an ordeal," Dick said, leaning over to tuck the blankets securely around Tim.

Tim rolled his eyes, but allowed it. "Thanks mom," he said sarcastically. Not that his actual mother had ever done anything like this for him. He certainly wasn't going to admit to Dick that he actually kind of liked being mothered, though.

Dick just kissed his forehead, and left with a, "Sleep tight, Tim," before shutting off the light and closing the door softly behind himself.

"Was that Master Timothy?" Alfred asked, and Dick looked over to the butler standing at the end of the hallway.

"Hey Alfred. Yeah, he had a run-in with Scarecrow and his fear toxin."

"What a shame. Shall I prepare a snack for him?"

"Probably. I put him to bed, but I doubt he'll stay there."

Alfred nodded knowingly, and retreated back downstairs.

Dick headed back down to the Cave, and pulled up some feeds from the docks a few days before. Tim had asked him yesterday to lend an extra pair of eyes to a case of his, and since he was currently out of commision and Dick had the rest of the night to himself, it seemed like the perfect time.

He set the feed to quadruple speed and sat back, waiting for any activity. Tim had been pretty certain there would be something in the past three days but hadn't had the chance to look at the feeds himself.

He settled in, knowing he'd probably be working on this until well after the sun was up ⁠— he didn't have much to go on yet, and he didn't know quite what he was looking for. 

His phone rang, and he glanced at the screen.

"Hey." He put the phone on speaker and set it next to the keyboard, returning his attention to the feed.

"Hey baby." Jason's voice sounded tinny through the cellphone, but it was nice to hear all the same.

He missed Jason especially at night — he hated sleeping alone. That was another reason he'd been happy to help out with Tim's case; it was another thing to throw himself into until he was so tired he fell asleep without brooding on his empty bed.

"How's the mission going?" Dick asked.

"Boring as hell, that's how." There were a few metallic clicks and a small clunk in the background. Jason did, indeed, sound bored as hell. "What're you doing over there? Not out on patrol? I assumed I'd be getting voicemail."

"Nah, came back early. Going through some footage looking for leads on a case Tim's got me consulting on." He squinted at the screen and slowed the frame rate. "What are you up to?"

"Just cleaning my guns. Probably the most exciting thing yet today."

Dick smirked. "Is that a euphemism?"

"No," Jason laughed. "I didn't call you jerking off. Not this time at least."

"Yeah, I don't think Roy would appreciate that too much."

"Roy is out getting us dinner, and even if he wasn't, he ain't the boss of me or what I choose to do when I've got my pretty boyfriend on the line."

Dick snorted at Jason's tone, which had slid so quickly from mock outrage to over-the-top flirty. 

"Oh, well your pretty boyfriend is so sorry for questioning your authority."

"Thank you. You should be."

Dick laughed. Damn, he really missed Jason.

"So…" Jason spoke up again. "If you're going through CCTV footage right now...any chance you could send me a copy of you taking down that guy like a week ago? You know where you⁠—"

"Oh you mean that sick ass move I actually pulled off? Yes I can. I already have a copy of the clip on my phone and it's honestly depressing that I can't post it any and everywhere online." It took barely a second to text the clip to Jason, and he could hear him watching it on the other end.

"Fuck, babydoll. That was hot." Jason groaned in dismay, and there was a thunk as he smacked his head on the table. "Arkansas fucking sucks, I miss you. We're wrapping this shit up in three days tops, I swear, and then I'm coming home."

"I miss you too."

"You better. The things I'm gonna do to you when I get back…"

"Yeah?" Dick prompted, though he was only halfway paying attention to him. He switched the video to frame by frame, and zoomed in on the background.

"As soon as I get in that door, one of us is getting bent over whatever's closest, and I'm gonna make you scream."

Fuck, the shadow was just a bird. Dick zoomed back out and sped up the video again. "You sure I'll be the one screaming?" They both knew that Jason was definitely the loud one between the two of them.

Jason laughed. "Probably not," he admitted, "but I can try my best. I would love to lick you out after we finish, I could go for hours, eat you out until you can't even speak."

"Yikes." A rather heartfelt voice came from behind Dick, and he spun around in the chair.

"Oh shi⁠— Uh. I gotta call you back!" Dick fumbled with the phone until he hung up, and then slowly turned back to the intruder.

Tim was paused partway down the stairs, still looking rather pale and drawn. He was looking over Dick's shoulder, and Dick turned to see a tired-looking Bruce making his way across the Cave from where the Batmobile was parked. Great. Sometimes he really hated how stealthy the Batmobile was made to be.

"Hi Tim...Bruce. You're back early."

"Yikes," Tim repeated, deadpan, looking between Bruce, whose face gave nothing away, and Dick, who looked like he was trying very hard not to look guilty. 

Bruce sighed. "The Cave? Speakerphone? Really?" he said, confirming that he had indeed heard.

Dick blushed. "I was working!" He gestured back toward the screen.

"And you thought it was a good idea to...what, multitask?"

Dick thought Tim looked like he was going to pass out from the embarrassment. Or maybe that was just the residual effects of the fear toxin. If it was indeed embarrassment though, Dick at least felt better knowing he didn't look like that anymore. He'd had some version of this talk several times over the years and, while it was still awful every time, he was better equipped to handle it than Tim was.

"It was an accident," Dick insisted. He wasn't lying, they hadn't intended for the conversation to go that direction ⁠— or at least he hadn't.

Bruce gave him a very, very tired look, which was a serious accomplishment with the cowl still in place.

A bubble of awkward laughter burst out of Tim's throat. "How do you have phone sex on accident?"

Bruce turned the disappointed face on him, and Tim bit his lip and attempted to compose his face.

"Look, I'm sorry," Dick said. "I didn't mean for the conversation to go that direction; I'm just trying to look for more clues on those arms smugglers for you." He gestured at Tim.

Bruce nodded, but he didn't drop the disappointed face until he had turned away and headed towards the showers. 

Damn. Dick knew he did that on purpose to make him feel guilty, but it still worked.

"So…" Tim said, finally coming the rest of the way down the stairs. "How's Jason?"

Dick turned back to the computer. "You don't actually care, and you know that I know that, so please let me do my work and let's never speak of this again."

"Fine, fine." Tim held his hands up in surrender. "Somebody's grumpy. Can't imagine why that is," he mumbled.

Dick gave him his patented 'Why must you hurt your big brother, who has done nothing but love you?' look. He thought it was required much more often than it really ought to be. "Why are you bullying me? And why are you out of bed?"

"Because you make it easy. And also you deserve it for making me hear about you and Jason's sex life." He very obviously avoided answering the latter part, and Dick narrowed his eyes at him.

"You're supposed to be resting," he said sternly, "and that wasn't my fault!"

"Speakerphone," Tim emphasised.

Dick huffed and turned, once again, back to the computer. "Bully someone else, or better yet, go back to sleep."

Eventually, after being ignored for a quarter of an hour, Tim wandered off. Although, Dick doubted he was taking his advice and going to sleep without anyone to force him to ⁠— more likely he was going back upstairs to work on a case in one of the files he'd snatched when he thought Dick wasn't looking.

◇◇◇

Two nights later, Dick found himself staring blankly at his computer screen with the information on the illegal firearms shipment later that night. The words blurred in front of his eyes, and he wiped at them brusquely. He still had to go out on patrol later in the night, but he was still caught up in the case he was helping Tim on.

It was already pushing three in the morning, and he'd not gotten to sleep until around seven or eight the past two nights.

It was set to be another long night, but the good news was that he was fairly certain that he and Tim would be wrapping this case up tonight. The bad news was that Jason was still gone, and the two cases he'd put on the back burner for this one weren't nearly as engaging.

◇◇◇

"Nightwing out tonight?" Dick heard over the comms the next night, and he took in a surprised breath.

"Hood?"

"Hey babydoll, I'm home." Dick swore he could hear Jason's smile. "I'm crossing into Gotham right now."

"Names, Hood," Bruce reminded tersely.

"Whatever, old man."

Dick grinned. "I still have some research to do on a couple of open cases when I get home, but I shouldn't be out here much longer. Maybe an hour?"

"Alright, I gotta check in on the working girls anyway."

"Tell Kandee I said hi, and thanks again for the coffee."

There was a loud smashing of glass on the street below, and an alarm started blaring.

"Jewellery shop on Fifth and Centennial. I've got it," Dick reported, jumping off the roof and shooting out a grappling line.

It didn't take too terribly long to deal with the break-in — it was just a couple of petty thieves who were taken down easily in a few minutes, and the cops had already been on their way, thanks to the alarm system.

Dick started across the city to Crime Alley to catch up with Jason. 

"I'm headed home. Red Hood out."

"Wait, I'm on my way to you, meet me at the corner of Crescent," he said, before Jason could turn his comm off.

"Sure thing, baby."

As soon as his bike came to a stop, Jason was jogging over to him and sweeping him into his arms. Dick felt himself immediately relax into his embrace, breathing in his familiar comforting scent of gun oil and leather.

"I missed you," Jason said, popping his helmet off with one hand and kissing him.

"Missed you too," Dick mumbled against his lips.

Jason kissed him again, and then skimmed his teeth along Dick's jaw. "I believe we have plans, don't we?" he said lowly in his ear.

"Gross, get off the comms already," Stephanie complained.

Whoops. Dick pulled back slightly. "Nightwing out," he said, before flicking off his comm unit with annoyance. 

"Sorry baby, didn't know you were still on the comms," Jason apologized, kissing behind his ear.

Dick arched his neck. "I don't care as long as you keep doing that. Now, what were you saying about our plans? I think you said something on the phone about one of us getting fucked as soon as we made it in the door?"

"I said one of us is getting bent over whatever's closest, but I think you fucking me against the wall will do."

"It'll definitely do. Where's your bike? Let's get home before it gets any more uncomfortable to ride."

"I grappled down here, I'm hitching with you," Jason said, pressing one last kiss to his neck, before swinging his leg over to sit behind Dick. He put his helmet back on, and squeezed Dick's hips lightly with his thighs. "Let's go, sugar."

The case files on that stalking case and the new street drug making its way through Blüdhaven could wait a few hours, Dick thought; they didn't seem to be tied up in anything major.