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“This is gonna hurt.” Red Hood warned.
Red Robin quirked a brow.
“Okay, fine, that much was obvious.” Hood said. “But if you kick me, I swear, I’ll kick you right back.”
“Just do it already.” Red Robin said, voice already laced in pain.
Even with permission, Hood still hesitated. He looked around, confirming once more that they were alone in the cell. It had almost been too easy to find this place, whoever had had the gall to jump Red Robin hadn’t also had the sense to hire more men to watch over him.
There had only been two guards posted outside who now lay in the hallway, unconscious not dead as much as Hood wanted otherwise, with the other criminals having some sort of party to celebrate having captured one of Batman’s brood. They were lucky that it was only Hood who had heard the news and not the Bat himself, though Hood definitely had plans to tear this gang apart piece by piece as soon as Tim was safe.
“Hood,” Robin grunted. “Do it.”
“This is gonna-“
“I know, so just do it! Hell, you don’t even need to count down, just-“
With one swift movement and with practiced hands, Red Robin’s knee slipped back into place and he rocked forward with a scream. He sat there trembling, desperately latched onto Red Hood’s shoulders as if it was the only thing keeping him conscious.
After a few deep breaths, Red Robin steadied a little but he didn’t pull away.
“F-Fine…” Red Robin said weakly.
“Didn’t ask.” Hood huffed back.
“Didn’t need to. Oh, wow, my head is like totally spinning right now.”
“Jesus, Replacement, it was just a dislocated knee.”
It wasn’t and they both knew it. While it is never advised to relocate anything by yourself, Hood knew that Robin would have been capable of it if it weren’t for the rest of his injuries. His uniform was little more than tatters now, showing slithers of black and blue skin, drying blood on too many parts of him to possibly count including a particularly nasty gash on his head. It was a miracle in and of itself that his domino mask had remained in place, identity still safe, though it had definitely seen better days.
Red Robin stayed braced up against Hood for another long minute before he pulled away a little and nodded.
“This is gonna-“
“You say that one more time,” Red Robin said faintly. “And I’ll make sure you never have a hot shower ever again.”
Without warning, Red Hood hoisted Red Robin up to his feet.
Robin cried out, stumbling forward a step on a knee that threatened to give out all over again. Hood wrapped one of Red Robin’s arms around his neck, giving Robin time to adjust before they would inevitably start moving.
After an eternity, Robin nodded. The first step was agony and the next wasn’t much better. They barely made it to the hallway before Red Robin was stumbling again but Hood compensated and made him wait again, giving his body a chance to work out what was happening to it.
A bead of sweat rolled down Robin’s face, taking blood down with it.
“D-Don’t have bandages in that… That suit of yours?” Red Robin asked.
“Not for pretty boys like you.” Hood said.
They continued on again, every step a little more confident.
“Still jealous of that article, Hood?” Red Robin mused. “About the… Ah!”
The only thing that kept Robin from falling outright was Red Hood but instead of just holding him there, Hood lowered him carefully to the ground. Robin was shuddering now, eyes squeezed shut, wounds bleeding anew.
The knee that Hood had just reset was bent wrong again, his foot not moving even as the rest of him shook strongly.
“Breathe through it, Kid,” Hood mumbled, keeping Robin as steady as he could. “Come on, I know you can.”
Robin whimpered, a tear joining the blood and sweat.
Red Hood sighed, cupping the back of Red Robin’s neck and squeezed with just enough pressure to be reassuring.
Each breath was laced with pain but he breathed anyway, making sure to hold it for a moment before releasing it, forcing himself to calm. Red Robin had almost completely regained control of himself again when he looked down on himself and his nails dug into Hood like claws.
“My… My leg.”
“I know,” Hood grunted.
One hand still gripping onto Hood, the other moved towards his bent leg but Hood stopped him.
“Need to… Need to fix it. Hood, I need to fix it. I… I need to fix it.”
“Breathe, Red, remember?”
Red Robin shook his head hard, chest stuttering.
“I need to fix it. I need… I can’t…”
“Red, focus.” Hood said lowly. “If I reset it again, you’d probably go into shock. Hell, you’re halfway there already. We’ll get you safe, alright, then I’ll fix it. Scouts honour and all that shit.”
Robin shook his head again. Then he dug fingers into Hood’s back, letting Hood readjust him so that upon standing Robin would be in his arms and not just beside him. Red Robin bit back a pained cry, burying his head into Hood’s chest as his wounds shifted, one leg hanging uselessly while the other shook alongside the rest of his body.
They were moving again, Red Hood carrying the smaller vigilante as his trembles slowly lessened, more out of exhaustion than anything else, his vision pulsing in and out with every slowing heart beat.
Hood was talking to him, Robin realised distantly, though what he was saying was lost in the haze of pain.
Then Hood stopped and he cursed, so loudly that even in his half lucid state Robin had heard it. He shoved past his own pain and exhaustion and tried to see what had made Red Hood stop in the middle of the hallway and all at once he felt ill.
There was a line of men, big men with bigger guns, each grinning ear to ear.
Red Hood twisted around to go back the way they had come but they were surrounded, though how so many criminals had managed to stay so quiet as they went into position, Robin had no idea.
He blinked, slowly, glancing at how limp his leg was as it hung weirdly, wondering if his foot had always felt so warm, and figured that if it came to it he could still fight.
Except of course he couldn’t fight, he was barely even able to stay conscious and there was no way in hell he could do anything to take down even one of them before Red Hood would be torn apart by bullets.
That was when Red Robin realised it, too hurt to have considered how easy it had been for Jason to get to him until now.
“Trap.” Robin whispered.
“Yeah,” Hood said. “A fucking amateur one at that, using a useless sack of shit like you as the bait.”
“You came for me.” Robin pointed out.
“‘Course I did,” Hood grunted.
Robin leant a little heavier against Hood’s chest. He had tried so hard to not have been surprised when Red Hood had come barging into his cell and yet there was still some part of him that couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been better if Jason hadn’t come, he would have been surrounded like this, with guns on all sides and no access to his own weapons without putting Red Robin down first.
“Do you regret it?” Robin asked.
“Nah.” Hood said.
Even though they had little choice but to surrender, there was still rebellion in Hood’s stance and just as he was about to do something stupid, there were shouts and gunfire echoing around them.
Red Robin expected more pain to rock through him as he was riddled with bullets but instead the line of criminals all faltered and turned around as more gunfire echoed. Hood was saying something over all the noise, and had at some point knelt down on the ground with Robin cradled close to him, but all Robin could focus on was how his leg was sitting weirdly against the ground and on how, after everything, his brother had still come to save him.
There were other shadows now, all crowding around him, and he thought that he should maybe tell them that he was fine but his mouth wasn’t quite working right and when they fully reached him, the world had already turned black.
“Easy, easy,” Dick said.
“It’s literally just a step.” Tim grumbled.
“Yeah, but if you fall-“
“I’m not gonna fall.” Tim said flatly.
“All I’m saying, is that if you fall on that leg of yours it’s really gonna hurt.”
Tim glared at him but made no attempt to let go of Dick’s arm. With another moment to mentally prepare himself, Tim stepped down. His leg twinged but didn’t buckle, the brace around it holding his knee in place.
While his dislocation had been serious, and according to Jason was fucking disgusting to look at, given time and patience he was going to be able to strengthen it again and hopefully get it back to full function.
He had been lucky, apparently, even if the rest of his body didn’t think so. His various wounds pulled each time he moved, no matter how carefully he did so, and the thought of being benched for a few weeks didn’t exactly help matters.
Tim’s foot caught on nothing and he stumbled forward with a cry, Dick keeping him from falling.
He shuddered, braced against his brother, waiting for the pain to pass and praying that he hadn’t destroyed his knee irreparably.
On Tim’s strained nod, Dick guided him over to a chair, taking on most of Tim’s weight. He shook strongly as Dick helped him to sit, stretching out his leg.
“I think it’s okay.” Tim said faintly.
“As if you’d admit otherwise.” Dick said. “I’m going to take the brace off, but you need to tell me if it hurts too bad.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Tim.”
“Okay.” Tim said. “I’ll tell you, I promise.”
It did hurt like hell when Dick shifted the brace but Tim was able to breathe through it as Dick confirmed that everything was still healing correctly. Tim leant back the moment Dick did, letting off a shaking sigh.
“You know,” Tim said. “Knees really suck.”
“You becoming an old man, Timmy?”
“Not as old as you.” Tim shot back.
Dick held a hand to his hurt heart, summoning crocodile tears out of nowhere.
Tim laughed and while even that hurt to do, he found that the pain was worth it as he saw Dick smile.
He laughed considerably less when he found Jason raiding his coffee stash when Tim finally managed to get to the kitchen. Revenge would be in order then, if Jason was going to be such a dick, and Tim knew the perfect bait to use.