It was late, or rather, early, 5:32 in the morning, to be exact. Nightwing yawned, rubbing his eyes through the mask, at least trying to.
The hero was perched on top of a skyscraper, waiting for any indication of a crime. He'd already stopped a few crimes that night, he wasn't keeping count, but didn't feel quite ready to head home.
Then, gunshots.
Nightwing used his grappling hook to quickly make his way down to the streets. He ran towards the gunshots, listening for more.
As he rounded the last corner adrenaline was pushing away the fatigue, but not before he let out another yawn.
In front of Nightwing was quite a scene. One man was laying on the ground, another cowering behind a car, and a third kneeling, his hands in the air. The cause of their predicaments was a woman in biker clothes, holding a gun in steady hands. A fine blanket of white powder covered the gun and the ground.
A drug deal gone wrong.
"Put the gun down please and we can all go home," Nightwing said, making his presence known.
The woman glanced over, brows furrowing in worry. She'd probably not expected to deal with a vigilante. The men wore a mixture of relief and terror. Nightwing suspected the woman was the one to be careful of. She proved him right by firing three quick shots, one of them grazing Nightwing's arm.
"Okay, guess we're doing this"
Nightwing leaped at the woman, knocking them both to the ground. He pried the gun from her and threw it away.
The woman wasted no time, dealing out a punch to Nightwing's throat, followed by a kick.
The woman got up, heading for her gun. Nightwing scrambled to his feet, coughing, struggling to take in the amount of oxygen he needed.
"Oh no you dont"
He threw his escrima stick at her feet. She tripped and fell to the ground. She failed to catch herself. She didn't get back up.
Nightwing picked up the gun, hanging it from his belt. He'd turn it over to the police once he got to work on Monday. He picked up the stick as well.
Suddenly a figure jumped down, knocking out one of the men.
Nightwing raised his sticks towards the figure, electricity dancing across the sticks' surface, only for a split second, before he recognized the shiny red helmet. A sigh of relief left him.
"Jay"
"Your dumbass almost got shot. Why are you still patrolling this late?"Jason scolded.
Nightwing blinked. Did he? He looked over at the man Jason knocked out, and there was indeed a gun next to the man's hand. Oh.
"But I didn't" Nightwing shrugged.
"Okay, that's it" Jason grabbed Nightwing's arm and started leading him away from the scene.
"I can't just leave them like this, they're gonna escape?" Nightwing argued. They should until the police arrived.
"The cops are probably already on their way if there was gunfire," Jason said, ending the argument.
Nightwing reluctantly let Jason drag him to an alley where a black motorbike was parked.
"Here" Jason threw a helmet at Nightwing, who barely managed to catch it. Maybe that was a sign of enough patrolling for one night.
Jason mounted the bike and waited for Nightwing to do the same. Nightwing brushed the hair away from his face and put on the helmet and took a seat on the bike. His arms found their way around Jason's waist, ignoring the janky handle behind him.
Jason had complained about the affection back when he first started spontaneously showing up to give Nightwing rides but had since come to accept it. But he wouldn't be caught dead like that by the rest of the family. Damian would have a field day.
"Is it still the same address?" Jason asked, to which Nightwing nodded.
Jason rolled the bike out of the alley and turned the handle, accelerating past a red light.
Nightwing liked this. The smooth turns, not actually having to drive, letting his eyes relax, watching blurry city lights whizz past, feeling the rumbling of the motor, leaning his head against Jason's back.
Too soon the bike came to a stop and Nightwing looked up to find the front door of his apartment building. He released Jason and stretched his arms.
"Thanks for the ride"
Nightwing returned the helmet to Jason.
"No problem, who else is gonna keep you from getting yourself killed..." Jason paused, his eyes trailing down to Nightwing's arm where blood had stained the fabric of his suit.
"You got hit" he observed.
Nightwing shrugged.
"It's just a scratch"
Jason sighed and crossed his arms.
"Okay let's get you stitched up"
Jason gently guided Nightwing to the front door.
"Keys"
Nightwing fumbled with the compartments in his belt until he found his keys. Jason took them, not even letting Nightwing try to unlock the door himself.
They climbed the stairs to the third floor and Jason found the door with the nameplate reading 'Grayson'. He opened the door and ushered Nightwing inside.
"Just go lay down or something, I'll get the medkit"
Nightwing tiredly nodded, making his way to his bedroom, letting himself fall onto his back, landing on the soft mattress. With some struggle, he kicked off his boots.
His hand lazily found its way to the corner of his mask and he carefully removed it, blinking at the sudden clarity in his vision. It was about time, the adhesive was barely keeping the mask on his face after hours of running around and fighting. He tried to rub away the residue with his sleeve, but the attempt was unsuccessful. He'd just have to wash it off later.
Jason entered with the medkit.
He'd removed his helmet, and his hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. Not that it was much different from his usual hairstyle. He'd also removed his jacket and body armor. He clearly expected to stay for a bit.
"Get the top off, it's in the way"
Nightwing groaned. He didn't want to move, he was comfortable.
"Come on, Dick. You gotta help me out here"
Nightwing groaned again, but did sit up. He peeled off the top part of his suit, flinching when he disturbed the wound. He let Jason help with with that arm.
This was far from the first time Jason had patched up Nightwing, and it wouldn't be the last. Jason worked quickly, hands steady and gentle. He cleaned the would, Nightwing hissing when the rubbing alcohol made contact with his flesh. Jason did two stitches, just to be safe, and covered the wound with a large bandaid and secured everything with some bandages.
Once he was done, Jason took one look at Nightwing to know that he was mere minutes away from passing out. Did he ever sleep?
"Change into actual clothes and go to bed, will you?"
Nightwing shook his head.
"M fine"
An eye roll. Jason noticed a pile of clothes on a chair, probably what Nightwing had worn before patrol. That would do.
"Here," he dropped the clothes onto Nghtwing's head, which earned a yelp from the other, "I'll go grab something to eat, change out of that stinking suit"
Jason left the room.
Nightwing, in his tired state, tried to identify the different clothing items. He eventually concluded it was sweatpants and a tank top.
He just wanted to lay down, but Jason did have a point. The suit stank, and it would be really uncomfortable to sleep in.
Nightwing starting taking off the rest of his suit. It was times like these he considered changing his suit to be more comfortable and less skintight, but nothing had ever come of that thought.
He tried to avoid using his injured arm, which made the process very difficult, so he did end up abandoning that idea. He managed to dress himself, and had the energy to throw the suit onto a chair. It slid off onto the floor. Nightwing huffed but couldn't be bothered.
Just in time Jason returned. He'd brought two mugs as well as some reheated leftover pizza on a tray.
"Let's get some food in you. You don't have work tomorrow, right?" He's decided that rather than convincing Nightwing to sleep he was just going to tire him out until he had to fall asleep.
Nightwing shook his head.
"Not until Monday"
"Perfect!"
Jason placed the tray on the bedside table before nudging Nightwing, silently asking him to scoot over.
Nightwing obliged, but not without complaint.
"No shoes. And don't spill anything"
Jason rolled his eyes, but kicked off his boots before sitting down next to Nightwing. He handed one of the mugs to Nightwing and reached for the tv remote.
"Breaking Bad?" Jason asked.
Nightwing made a noise that could be interpreted as anything, so Jason decided to take it as a yes.
Nightwing stared at the mug in his hands. He hadn't tasted it yet.
"It's just hot coco" Jason insisted, taking a sip of his own.
Still suspicious, Nightwing tasted the drink. It was good, but...
"It's spiked, isn't it?"
"Yup"
Jason turned on the tv and opened Netflix. It was a bit funny that they all still shared a Netflix, which Bruce was still paying for, of course. Jason hovered over his profile, and muttered a string of curse words.
Nightwing glanced at the screen and saw the cause of Jason's harsh words. His profile had been renamed to "stupid idiot".
"Tim is dead when I see him"
"How do you know it wasn't me or Dami, or even Bruce" Nightwing joked. The name did scream Tim.
"Haha, shut up"
Jason found Breaking Bad and pressed play.
Jason offered Nightwing a slice of pizza, which he accepted, however, he made no effort to actually eat it. Jason grabbed one as well, and chowed down half of the slice in one bite.
The two watched the show in silence, Nightwing occasionally mumbling remarks about the show's realism or the acting. But he eventually fell silent.
Jason felt a weight slowly fall onto his shoulder. He looked over and saw Nightwing finally fast asleep, a half eaten pizza slice still in his hand, and a, thankfully, empty mug in his lap.
Jason paused the show and placed Nightwing's uneaten pizza back onto the plate. Nightwing was already practically tucked in, but Jason still carefully moved him so he was somewhat lying down, still heavily leaning on Jason.
"God you're bad at taking care of yourself" Jason muttered, however, fondness laced the words.
He noticed a spare pillow, and took it to use as a backrest, he was stuck there for a while.
"Night Dick"