No Nuance November

Just Doing Something Nice

Jason crawled through the window of one of his many safe houses. He let the bag drop from his shoulder onto the floor. He took a few steps forward before falling face first onto the sofa. He was sore. Overworked muscles and sleepless nights had caught up with him. He felt he could sleep for a week.

As much as he wanted to stay and sleep he needed to get out of this uniform and take a shower before he did anything else.

He sat up shucking his jacket off and tossing atop a nearby chair as he began to undo the armor on his chest and torso. Removing it with the holster for his many weapons dropping onto the coffee table in front of him. He took off his boots and stood stretching listening to the cracks in his spine before making his way to the bathroom to wash away the layers of grime, dirt, sweat, and blood that had built up the last few weeks.

He stood letting the spray of the water hit his face and sooth his aching muscles.

A clean t-shirt and sweats and he was back to eat something and clean his gear (amazing how much a simple shower can perk someone up). He walked out to find armor gone, replaced with a note.

He snatched the note from the table instantly recognizing the pretender's scrawl.

You did good work. Get some rest. I'll take care of the armor for you. -RR

Since when did Tim do stuff like that? Like break into places and steal stuff just so he could clean it. Jason wouldn't call himself a clean freak, and could by no standard, keep his equipment to the same standard Tim kept despite (or maybe in spite of) his completely chaotic lifestyle.

When it came to gear no one's was in better shape than Tim's. Jason had no idea when he found the time. He wouldn't say his gear was in bad condition and that he didn't take care of it. He just wasn't as meticulous as people like Tim or even Roy.

He remembers how the redhead would spend hours upon hours going through each piece of equipment making sure it was pristine. Of course Roy was equally messy. Maybe that's just how these types of people were.

People who hyper focused on whatever insane task and let normal mundane things like having a clean workspace just slip past them. As if they didn't have time.

Not that Jason minded Tim taking the time to clean his armor. In fact the exact opposite. He appreciated it. A lot. It gave him more time to relax and unwind.

"Alright. I'll just eat something then." Jason told himself before he groaned.

He had no produce of any kind. He'd been gone for so long (in general but also he didn't use this particular safe house very often) that he only had canned goods and boxes of noodles. Things that wouldn't go bad for years.

Jason sighed. Guess I'll have to make do.

He walked into his kitchen to see a bowl of fruit.

"Tim gave me fruit?"

There was another note attached to the fridge.

Not the pretender's awful handwriting. Instead it was the golden boy's neater handwriting (Neater meaning it was legible. Of course Jason would call his own handwriting unintelligible chicken scratch).

Knew you were coming back today, so I got you some food. Alfred insisted I bring the leftovers in the fridge. Enjoy your night off. -N

Okay this is weird.

Why were his sort of brothers doing stuff for him?

They never did stuff like this. They had to be up to something. Whenever he got back from whatever mission he'd been on it was silent and uneventful.