Chapter Text
Jason was never not in pain. Pain was a fact of life, in the same way eating or sleeping were. Some days, it was minor enough he could forget it was there, only noticeable when he stopped and paid attention to his body.
Today was not one of those days. Today was one of the days – nights now – where everything hurt. He’d been sprawled on the couch for the last five hours, a heating pad pressed between his ribs and the cushions, failing to distract himself with North & South . He probably needed to eat, and definitely needed to pee, but that would require moving. Leaving the heating pad behind.
The Pit had healed his injuries, but that had been years ago. Vigilante life was hard on the body. Some days, he wondered how Bruce and Dick were still walking. Maybe it was just him. Maybe his body was just too fucked up from all the years of malnutrition and even the Pit couldn’t fix it. Maybe he was just a fucking wimp and needed to get better at sucking it up and fighting through.
Ding .
Another message from Steph. More Austen memes. Jason smirked. After they’d watched A Room With a View together a couple months ago, she’d admitted that maybe historical movies could be enjoyable once in a while. He’d gotten her to watch Emma and Gentleman Jack so far, and they were planning a Pride and Prejudice marathon next week. Steph would snark about the outfits and fancy manners, but he knew she’d also get indignant with him over Darcy’s terrible first proposal.
Scones for next week?
Alfred’s recipe?
Of course
You sonuvabitch, I’m in
He sent a gif of a steaming teacup and set his phone down, turning his attention back to the TV.
Cotton mill workers rioted on-screen, and it took him a moment to realize the thumping was on his own door, not a sound effect. Jason scowled, rolling to his feet. The apartment door opened before he could actually take more than a step away from the couch.
“Triple D-light Deliveries, at your service!”
“Kindly refrain from ever calling us that again, Richard.”
“I dunno,” Duke said, hanging his and Damian’s coats on the hooks by the door. “It’s kinda got a ring to it.”
“Thank you, Duke! I’m glad someone appreciates my wit. Jay, lay down. I didn’t mean for you to answer the door, just wanted to give you heads up we were here. We brought you stuff for Greek Lemon Chicken Skewers! I’m going to teach Damian.”
Jason raised one eyebrow, sinking back onto the couch. “Do you know how to make Greek Lemon Chicken Skewers?”
“I have a recipe,” Dick said primly, unpacking the paper grocery sack. “I found it on Pinterest. And Damian is here to supervise.”
“What are you even doing here? You don’t have to make me dinner.”
“But we want to, and we’re here, and we’re going to. Where are your cutting boards?”
“They are in the lower left cabinet by the stove,” Damian answered. “Duke, you are in charge of the tzatziki.”
“Please tell me you have a recipe.”
“Obviously. How else would you make it?”
Jason rearranged his heating pad, keeping one eye on his brothers as they argued and made a mess of his kitchen. None of them were actually bad cooks. Not much imagination, but they could follow a recipe okay, and Dick used chicken often enough to know when it was cooked through. Jason still wasn’t sure why they had shown up, but he could admit to himself that it would be nice to have someone else cook today.
They were dropping strips of chicken breast in the yogurt marinade when the door slammed open. Cass, Steph, and Tim piled into the apartment, hauling overflowing tote bags. Jason squinted at them, trying to make sense of the haul.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Family movie night!” Tim dropped a half dozen tote bags on the floor by the couch, blankets spilling out of them.
“We brought stuff to make a pillow fort!” Steph tossed a pillow on Jason’s stomach as evidence.
He threw it back, covering a wince at the sharp movement. “And you couldn’t do this at the manor? Where all the pillows live?”
“Missed you, little brother.” Cass dropped a kiss on Jason’s forehead, and he scowled, halfheartedly pushing her away.
“Not your little anything.”
“Little brother.” She smirked. “Baby brother.”
“Babiest of brothers!” Dick sang.
“Don’t any of you dumbasses have patrol?”
“It’s covered. We’re taking a night for family.” It went unspoken that Jason had turned in early the night before, and gone radio silent for a day plus. Weird as it was to admit, that wasn’t normal anymore. Someone must have noted it when he didn’t show up for patrol tonight, and rallied the troops.
He thought about yelling at them to get out, to get back to their jobs and let him handle his own shit. But Tim and Steph were already dumping out pillows and blankets on the floor, arguing over the best arrangement. Dinner was smelling kind of good. Cass stayed to comb her fingers through his hair and study his posture for a couple minutes before giving a nod of satisfaction and turning to help with the blanket nest.
He didn’t usually like admitting any kind of weakness, to anyone (Cass didn’t count, she always knew anyway). Being laid up for a day and a half with crippling pain, not even getting up when his siblings came in, definitely felt like admitting weakness. But no one was commenting on it, or trying to smother him. They were just…lending a hand. Distracting and cooking and making the evening a little easier to deal with.
There was another knock on the door. Jason just sighed, raising an eyebrow at Tim, who had just managed to wrestle a body pillow away from Steph. “Did one of you draw a rune on the door? I feel like Bilbo Freakin’ Baggins here.”
“Good evening, Master Jason. I trust your siblings have not been too overwhelming?”
Jason rolled his eyes. “They’re being tolerable.”
“Excuse you, I just made some absolutely incredible tzatziki. Don’t lump me in with these knuckleheads.”
“Hm.” Jason lifted one finger to point at Duke. “Narrows is cool. The rest of them are tolerable.”
The apartment’s noise level doubled as Duke crowed in victory and the others protested. Jason hid a smirk.
“Indeed. Might I make you a cup of tea, Master Jason?”
Jason nodded slightly, trying not to jostle anything. He’d finally found a position that was giving him some relief, even if it only lasted a few minutes. “Thanks, Alfie.”
When Bruce was let in a few minutes later, Jason barely looked up. “You’re late, old man.”
Bruce held up a paper grocery sack like a peace offering. “I was told to bring ice cream.”
Jason raised one eyebrow. “Neapolitan?”
“Of course.”
“You may stay.”
Bruce’s mouth twitched, and he nodded, heading to the kitchen.
Jason’s heating pad shut off and he restarted it, tugging his blanket higher. There was a part of him that was always on alert when he was alone, watching the exits and listening. With the apartment full of Bats and Birds, he knew no one was getting to him without their permission. Jason let his eyes drift shut. He wouldn’t fall asleep, with the number of voices overlapping around him. But he could rest, and let his family take care of him. At least for tonight.