trans_9 | I fought the law (and the law won)

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I fought the law (and the law won)

There's not a whole lot to do, when you're marking time in a jail cell. Tim has paced every inch of it, calculated the estimated area of his new living space (small), and counted the ceiling tiles (42 and 1/4).

He hasn't tried to escape, though he thinks he might be able to, if he really tried. But he won't.

Right now, he's lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling, and hoping that no one comes to visit him. He's not sure he can face their disappointment.

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"Thank you." He's a little tired of other people trying to take responsibility for his mistake. Leela, Kon, Bruce, to an extent...

"I'll try to keep it in mind in the future. Though I think the bruises from being thrown into walls will help me remember for the time being."

Dick could probably understand that. Taking responsibility is one of his better leadership traits, honestly. It keeps him aware of his team and what was happening. He'd just dropped the ball this time.

But he wasn't going to go back over that with Tim. If he knew his little brother, he was doing it enough on his own.

"You do that," he said, wincing slightly. "Maybe you'll end up with fewer bruises from now on." One could hope. And they couldn't hold the conspirators indefinitely, anyway. Dick pushed himself from the wall and walked over to the bars. Hopefully fast enough that the slight limp wasn't caught before putting his hand through the bars. "Just don't do it again, okay, kiddo?"

"I won't." It's a promise--to himself, and to Dick. This... can't happen again. He won't do this--be here again.

Tim watches Dick closely as he moves toward him. "You're limping," he accuses, and crosses to the doorway to grip his hand. "What happened?" His eyes narrow slightly, and he remembers the fight. "Jason?"

"Good." He reaches through the bars with the other hand, giving Tim a friendly cuff to the hair. Nothing hard, just enough to let Tim know that they're okay again.

Still, there's a pause as Tim notices the limp and he shakes his head. "We're on it." Tim couldn't be there. And, frankly, he was thinking that might not be such a bad thing. After all, Dick could trace at least a bit of Jason's awful behavior back to the way he'd treated him.

Tim gives him a slight smile at that, then glances down at Dick's leg. "What happened?" he asks again. He won't feel guilty for not being there (he should have been), but he wants to know how bad it was.

Honestly, it's probably just as well that Tim wasn't there. Things might have actually gone worse.

Dick shrugs slightly. "He was keeping me engaged and away from the center of activity." Not mentioning the Yeerk. At all. "Or, really, he was trying to convince me to get you and get out of there. I wouldn't, so he shot me. Then I talked him into helping us get the bystanders out of the way. He's been in the wind since then."

"He shot you?" Tim asks incredulously. "Are you kidding?" As glad as he is that Dick wasn't at the center of all the action, he's not glad about the reason. "Are you okay? How bad is it?"

"I'm standing, aren't I?" Which...honestly, didn't mean much. Dick was as bad as Bruce when it came to being up too soon after an injury. "Seriously, though. As long as you don't pay too much attention to the medical equipment, it works really well. I don't think even Alfred could have done any better."

He lets out a sigh. "That's... good to hear. I can't believe he shot you," he grumbles. He glances up at him again. "But--you said he tried to help? After?" This... is not jibing at all with what Tim has come to expect from Jason.

Dick nods. "Made sure I got to the medics after everything cooled down, too. We groused at each other a bit before he left." Well, Jason HAD shot him. Dick figures he was allowed a little grousing. "Leon's left tracking him down in my hands." And possibly Bruce's. He isn't sure yet.

Tim nods. He won't be able to help.

Obviously.

"Well, I guess that's good, at least..." he admits grudgingly. He and Jason... aren't exactly on good terms. Ever. "How's that search going?"

"Just getting started. I wanted to come in and see you, make sure you're okay." As okay as he could be, at least.

Tim gives him a wry smile. "I'm fine." Or--as fine as he can be, anyway. Just because he knows he should be here, and he's not bothering to try to escape doesn't mean he's enjoying his time.

Which is as it should be. Jail should be a punishment, not a party.

Dick smiles sympathetically. "Don't make a habit of it, little brother. I'm not a fan of the whole 'behind bars' look on you." Old habit, trying to bring a little levity to the goings on. This wasn't easy for any of them, but especially not Tim.

"I don't know." Tim's smile widens just a little. "I think prison-chic is in this year."

That makes him snort, just a little. "Oh yeah. Stripes work so well on you. Why don't we leave those to Wally's Rogues Gallery, okay? I think they look a lot better on the Trickster."

"I'll keep it in mind." He looks up at Dick, the smile gone again. "It's not going to happen again. I promise."

Dick's own smile went at the same time and he nodded. "I know." He trusted Tim, after all. "Doesn't mean you're getting out of a couple extra practice rounds with me once Leon lets you out of here."

"I guess I can handle that," Tim replies. After all, there are worse punishments than extra training with his big brother.

Yeah. Extra training with 'Dad'. Doubtful Tim was getting out of that, either.

Dick sighed and shook his head. "I really should get back to work." Finding Jason being the top of his current priority list.

Tim nods and gives Dick a quick smile. "Thanks for stopping by." Even if it was the last thing he thought he wanted. It's what he needed.

Dick nods and reaches through to ruffle his hair again. All forgiven, Tim. "What was I going to do, ignore you? Not a chance, little brother."

And, really, Dick needed it, too. It's hard seeing Tim like this, but at least he's okay and safe. That was important.

"Still--thanks. You didn't have to." Part of him had even expected him not to, though the rest of him knew better.

"Now go on." Tim waves him off. "Not all of us can live a life of leisure." Yeah, he's joking again.

"Yeah, I did. You're family." And maybe it had taken Dick time to figure that out, but he DID figure it out eventually.

He nodded and smiled at the joke. "I'll be back when I have some time."