Chapter Text
Stuck inside a cycle of opinions
Where there's two clear ways
And I always take the easy one
And I'm always left with the taste in my mouth
I will do better in the morning
Better in the Morning
By Birdtalker
“Hood I need you at Kramer and Downey.”
Barbara's voice cut in sharp as he arched mid swing. He retracted his grapple, controlling his descent, the hard sole of his boots hitting the ledge of the building. “Copy that. Details?”
“Red’s missed a check in.”
“How far past?” Jason asked.
“Three minutes.”
Jason swallowed hard. “That’s not like him. What’s the situation?”
“I don’t…” Barbara started, a strange catch in her throat.
“O? What’s the situation?”
“I don’t know,” She breathed. “I don’t know, he’s been undercover for three weeks. I’ve only had his location when he contacts me.”
“What?” Jason hissed, his feet already moving across the roof tops back towards where he had stashed his bike.
“I don’t have any details about the case. He’s been working solo, B thinks he’s with the Titans, and he only let me on to run check in. BB isn’t state side. BG is with N in Bludhaven. And you’re the closet to his last known location.”
“Coordinates.”
“36.25. -93.13”
“I’m on route, should be there in a few minutes.”
“Be careful. I’m in your ear.”
On the bike he arrived at the location in less than five minutes. He replaced one of his magazines with standard bullets, leaving the rubber ones behind, the buzz in the back of his head assuring him they were necessary. The building was delipidated, stuck unimpressively amongst some of the larger, abandoned factories. With a running start he launched himself on to the service ladder, pulling himself up until his feet found purchase on the lowest rung. The climb was quick, and a swift peak over the lip of the roof showed the area was deserted. The covering on the massive ventilation system was only hanging by a single bolt, and it swiveled out of the way without much resistance. Jason secured a line, letting it take his weight as he slid down the shaft. He touched down as delicately as he could before he started a slow creep through the space.
Jason muted the external sound on his helmet, his voice staying safely muffled inside. “Did you see anyone outside the building?”
“Cameras in the area are limited. I saw a lot of movement leaving the vicinity within the last hour, sporadic bursts of two and threes. At least fifty people.”
“Any reports from the area?”
The rapid snick of her mouse filled his ears as she clicked through her system. “Vandalism, Squatting. A few robberies. But nothing specific for this building.”
“Okay O, I’m going dark. I’ll let you know when I have something.”
He continued his crawl until he heard the rough din of voices. Jason made a left, moving as quietly as possible until he reached the slatted opening in the metal. He hovered above the happenings below him, crouching so he straddled over the vent. Two figures stood just in Jason’s view, a taller, grizzled looking blonde, who was pulling on the arm of a rotund bald man.
“We need to get out of here,” The blonde hissed, leaning toward the gated opening of the chain link cell they were standing in. “What if he’s a cop?”
“He isn’t old enough to be a cop,” Baldey snarled, cracking his blood-stained knuckles.
“A cadet then, they take them out of the academy to do this sort of things. Stings.”
“I don’t care who is, we have buyers coming tomorrow and this little shit cost us. I’m gonna kill him.”
“He’s as good as now with what you gave him, lets go!”
With a forceful push Jason slammed through the vent, landing on top of the blonde man with a thud and rendering him unconscious. The gun in his right hand was out and aimed at the man he missed, and with a twitch of his finger he sent a bullet through each of his knees before lodging one in the exposed joint of the man beneath him for good measure. Ignoring the pained cries and curses Jason turned his attention to the only other occupant of the cage.
Tim was bound, hanging limp in a chair. Dark strands hung long past his shoulders, knotted and ragged, as if he had been dragged across the floor, a sizeable spattering of hair was strewn across the soiled ground. His clothes were torn and dirty, faded secondhand items too garish for Tim’s usual style. Bare feet, swallow skin, all mottled with bruising and blood. Whatever he had been doing for the last few weeks had not been kind to his replacement. Jason drew a knife from his boot and with a swift, upward pull he severed the rope and caught Tim’s weight, bringing him to the floor.
Re-engaging his voice modulator, Jason rolled Tim over. “Hey, hey hey hey, Red, open your eyes. Come on.” He cradled Tim’s slack head, rubbing a gloved hand against his unmarred cheek and Tim’s heavy-lidded eyes opened a fraction. “That’s it, come on Pretty Bird, let me see those eyes.”
When Tim managed to open them fully, Jason saw he was wearing brown contact lenses. The right one was torn, almost half of it missing, and the natural blue of his iris was nothing but a sliver against the black pit of his blown-out pupil.
“Shit,” Jason hissed, rapidly checking Tim’s neck and arms for needle marks. “What did they give you?”
Tim’s eyes fell closed, his head falling back again. A grunt from behind Jason had him on his feet in seconds. He threw the groaning man against the wall, his arms pressed hard into his throat, pinning him inches above the ground, “What did you give him!”
The man chocked against the pressure, gurgling helplessly.
“I swear to god if you don’t tell me what you gave him right now, I will blow your fucking brains out.”
The man flailed his arm, pointing erratically towards the ground. Jason spotted the uncapped pill bottle and growled. With one smooth motion he raised his gun and cracked it into the man’s skull, letting him crumble to the ground. He crossed back to Tim, discarding his helmet and bringing his ear down to Tim’s nose and mouth, holding his own breath to catch any sign of Tim’s. It was faint, but still there.
“Hold on Tim,” Jason muttered, ripping off his glove, and rolling him on to his side, “Sorry about this.” Jason shoved two fingers down Tim’s throat until he emptied the sparse contents of his stomach, a handful of half dissolved pills splattering on the floor. “That’s it. Good job Pretty Bird. I’m going to get you out of here.”
Cramming his helmet back on he gathered Tim up in his arms, “O, I’ve got him. I’ll keep you updated. I’ve got two here who will need picking up. Ambulance, if you’re feeling generous.”
“How is he?”
“Alive,” Jason offered shortly, making his way out of the building.
It was a quick journey to his nearest safe house, and he had Tim settled on a couch, hooked up to IVs in minutes. Once Jason checked Tim’s vitals and was sure he was stable, he started cataloguing the injuries. The collar of bruising around his neck was in varying shades of healing. Faded gold and brown with splotched greens, topped with dark purples, all ugly, but not permanently damaging. Bruised ribs, but no signs of swelling, they would be sore but most likely weren’t broken.
Jason gently tilted Tim’s head, adjusting a lamp to shine down on him. A bleeding cut across his cheek showed where he took a particularly hard hit. Carefully, Jason slipped a long, thin pair of tweezers into Tim’s ear and extracted the remains of the broken earpiece. Jason examined the area for any bleeding, but thankfully didn’t see any.
Sifting through the artificial hair Jason found the patch of Tim’s head where the hair had been ripped out. Grabbing the bottle of antiseptic, he poured it liberally over a cotton ball, dapping the raw flesh gingerly, before removing as many of the extensions as could. Tim continued to breath steady, and Jason tucked him under a few blankets before setting himself up for the long watch. He curled up in an armchair with a blanket of his own, pulled a book on to his lap, and called Barbra.
“How is he doing?”
“I think he’s going to be fine. He’s beat up but his vitals look good. What ever they dosed him with should be working its way out of his system.”
“Thank you, Jason. I’m going to be up, call me if anything changes. I owe you, for this. When you need a favor, it’s yours.”
“I’ll keep that in mind Babs,” Jason smiled lightly, looking back over Tim’s sleeping form. “Just, maybe don’t let him do something this stupid again? I don’t think you want to owe me too many favors.”
Ending the call Jason grabbed up the paperback from his table, opening the book to where he had left off in his reading. Hopefully there were enough pages to get him through the night.