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English
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From Ghibli to Star Wars, S.T.I.L.L., Leymonaide fic recs
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Published:
2021-08-24
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1,618
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Soft Robin, sleepy Robin, little ball of trauma

Summary:

Tim doesn't need to sleeeeeeeep.

He doesn't.

Alfred disagrees, and he sics annoying big brother Jason on him.

Notes:

Sad robin, baby robin, doesn't have his mama

Hair pets for Envy that I wrote in government class and in the hour after

Work Text:

“I can’t sleep right now!” Tim protested as Jason yanked him away from the screen. “I’m getting so close to finding them!”

“Nope. Last chance. Go to bed now, shut your eyes, and go to sleep, or I will make you.”

Tim didn’t doubt that Jason could make him, or even that Jason would, but if Tim worked very  fast and stalled Jason, then maybe he could—

Hands under his arms, tossing him into the air so high that he yelped before gravity reared its ugly head and brought him crashing down, stomach first, onto Jason’s shoulder. Has Tim eaten anything in the last…he didn’t even know what day it was anymore, but he would have thrown up out of sheer spit if he’d had anything in his stomach.

Jason, the bastard, bounced on the balls of his feet, tossing Tim into the air, only for his stomach to land squarely on Jason’s stupid hard shoulder again.

“Jaaaaaay,” Tim groaned. “I’m working. I’ll sleep soon.”

That was a lie. Tim would sleep when he was dead or once he’d solved this case.

“Sucks to be you, Timmers.” He couldn’t see Jason’s shit-eating grin, but boy could he hear it. If Tim had been able to move his body faster than the average sloth anymore, he would have kicked Jason. “You should have listened to Alfred when he told you to go to bed. Then he wouldn’t have asked me.”

Alfred had told Tim that? Tim had no memory of that happening. Jason was probably lying, the traitor. Tim chose to believe that as Jason started out across the cave floor.

Jason could glide soundlessly, smoothly over any surface: gravel, stone, grass. Every one of the Bats could do that, but it was even more impressive for someone as big as Jason to move with such cat-like stealth.

So since Jason was fully capable of not stomping around like an elephant on hot cement,  he was obviously just being an asshole as every step drove his shoulder a bit deeper into Tim’s ribcage and stomach.

Tim was putting purple glitter in every one of Jason’s helmets as soon as he got the chance.

Jason carried Tim all the way up the stairs to the Manor, instead of taking the elevator like a reasonable jerk who only wanted to disrupt his brother’s incredibly important work but who drew the line at causing his brother insignificant but frustrating pain with every step, then he carried Tim all the way up the next flight of stairs to the family bedrooms.

Tim groaned in defeat. He was screwed. He needed to get things done, people were counting on him, even if they didn’t know they were counting on him, and he didn’t want to sleep, but there was no way he wasn’t going to pass out for twelve or more hours after how long he’d been up.

He was such a failure. Every day he couldn’t find these drug smugglers was another day that they were dealing dangerous drugs to kids and vulnerable people. People could die because Tim wasn’t good enough.

His eyes misted over as Jason threw open Tim’s bedroom door and marched straight up to the bed. Tim braced for it, but it still drove the air from his lungs when Jason bent down suddenly and flipped Tim onto the bed.

“Alright, kiddo, here are your options: either you shut your eyes and sleep, or I will smother you until—” Jason trailed off, the obnoxious gleam in his eyes fading into concern.

Dammit. He couldn’t even just hate himself with some privacy. Now he had Jason of all people making sappy puppy dog eyes at him.

He closed his eyes and turned his face away, but gravity betrayed him again, and he rolled down the bed toward his brother when the mattress dipped under the weight of Jason’s fat ass.

Jason grabbed his shoulder again and tugged Tim, gently at least, toward himself.

“Hey, baby bird.” Jason talking like that just made Tim feel even more pathetic. Jason never used this voice, his victims voice, on Tim, because he knew Tim could take the ribbing and the casual brotherly violence because Tim was strong.

“Why are you crying, Tim?”

Because he was useless. Because everyone was going to know how useless he was when the next person died, any day now, because he kept failing, and he could never save anyone, and even when he did save some people, he could never save enough people, and he needed to do work, but he’d been staring at the same information for what felt like hours, and it wasn’t helping, and he knew Jason was right, but if he’d just been smart enough earlier, when he’d been more awake, there might not be a dozen people dead. There were people out there with families and friends and parents and friends and kids and siblings who were corpses on a countdown because Tim wasn’t good enough.

Tim’s whole body shook with the effort it took to force down a sob. He never should have become Robin. Maybe, if it wasn’t for him, Bruce would have gotten a different Robin, one who was actually useful.

“N—nothing wr—wr—ong?” Tim begged, voice hitching as he fought the burning in his eyes.

“Tim.” Jason’s voice was too kind, too understanding, too gentle, and it broke Tim.

The tears he’d fighting tore out of him violently, and then he couldn’t even stop. His throat tore up with every cry, and his head hurt, everything hurt, and he just wanted it all to stop for a while, but if Tim wasn’t suffering, then someone else would be.

“I need—I need to finish—” Tim sobbed.

Jason’s massive hand brushed, feather-soft, over Tim’s hair, and Tim cried even harder. He’d been so alone for so many days, but he had to be. He couldn’t just give up!

“You need to sleep,” Jason hushed, petting over Tim’s hair one more time before threading his fingers through his hair down to the roots before weaving his way out again through Tim’s sweaty, tangled hair. “Babs is working this case, Bruce is working this case, Dick is working this case. I will be working this case as soon as you go to sleep, baby bird. You haven’t slept in days, though, and if you don’t rest sometime, the you’re not going to be any good to anyone when it’s time to bust these assholes.”

“But, but, Jason! I need to—” Why couldn’t he stop crying? Why did his entire body hurt so much the second he stopped enough to notice it?

“Shh, Timmers. It’s okay. Everything you do as Red Robin is a gift you give to Gotham. You don’t owe anyone anything, and destroying your health for one case is going to make you less efficient for all the other ones.”

“Stop making sense!” Tim bawled.

“Nope. I can’t. Not allowed.” Jason flexed his fingers, running untrimmed nails over Tim’s scalp. “I’m your big brother. I’m always right.”

Tim didn’t deserve any of this, but, in a moment of weakness, he rolled onto his side and curled up with his head against Jason’s thigh. Sobs shook him full force for a long time after that, several minutes at least, before petering out to wet gasps and miserable sniffles. Jason stayed with him the whole time, massaging Tim’s aching head and combing his fingers through Tim’s hair. Tim knew he should feel worse than he already did, because now not even Jason was helping people, but it felt so good, easing his headache that he was just making even worse by crying and slowly filling the deep empty pit inside him.

When the tears finally stopped completely and he could breathe levelly, Tim forced himself to open his eyes and look up at his older brother.

Reluctance pooling in his stomach, Tim heaved a wavering sigh. “You can—go now. I’ll sleep.”

He couldn’t fight it anymore, especially not after so much crying. He be good and do what everyone wanted him to do since that was the only thing of value he could do anymore, even if Jason was wrong about everything not being his fault.

Jason ran his fingers through Tim’s hair a few more times, and Tim couldn’t help closing his eyes to soak in these last few moments of kindness.

“Scoot over, kid.” Jason nudged Tim’s shoulder insistently.

Tim groaned and dragged himself closer to the middle of the bed. Was Jason worried that Tim would fall out of the bed? Dick had promised not to tell anyone about that. “Fiiiiiiiine.”

The bed shook slightly as he moved, and it took Tim’s spaced out mind several moments to realize that it wasn’t him.

Tim flopped down and looked over his shoulder just in time to be grabbed around the waist and pulled up to Jason’s chest.

“Jay?” Tim should have been angry, but he couldn’t help melting into the touch.

Jason needed to go help people. What was he doing, wasting even more time with Tim?”

“Naptime. I’m tired too.” Jason had his eyes shut, but he didn’t look at all tired. Which meant he was choosing Tim over saving Gotham.

Tim should kick Jason out. It was selfish not to, but…

But maybe Jason was right, and what they did was a gift to Gotham, and maybe sometimes, they could give that gift of their time and attention to each other. Tim thought he might like that, but he didn’t let himself think any deeper about it right now.

Instead, he closed his eyes and enjoyed his present as he drifted off to sleep.