-another EPIC request from @JRyszarda !!-

-Part 60!!-

Tim hadn't slept since Dick and Jay's kidnapping, he stayed up, outside their rooms, paranoid. He'd been watching Dick whenever Terry wasn't. Since Dick didn't move, and needed someone in the room with him, Tim hadn't gotten up to eat all day.

"Hey, I'm just going to go get my pencil case. I'll be right back. Try to stay put, please." Tim ruffled Dick's hair. He was babysitting Dick tonight, while Bruce was still out of town, and the others was on patrol. He was doing his homework in the boy's room to keep him company, while Dick rested in bed. 

Dick was still kind of traumatized from a few nights ago, when his babysitter kidnapped him, and he got beat up. Not only traumatized, put his leg had gotten messed up while healing, and he needed to keep the cast on longer. Dick had a few bruises forming on his chest and stomach, and his only functioning leg was weak-kneed.

"Don't leave?" Dick begged.

Tim tried to make Dick let go of his shirt. "I'll be right back. Twenty seconds. Can you count to twenty in English yet?" He asked, unsure of how far Alfred and Terry had gotten with tutoring. Dick shook his head. "Well, just count to ten, two times."

"Okay." He muttered, looking down at his hands, he started counting on his fingers.

Tim darted from the room, wanting to keep his promise on total. Inconsistencies had been freaking Dick out lately, and he cried whenever he was kept away from his new family. He needed them.

Dick made to about seven before he began to panic. What if Tim didn't comeback? What if he was kidnapped? How would he tell the others? Tim said they're all out with friends! Dick squirmed out of his blanket and tried to clamber out of bed. He had crutches, but they were kind of hard to use.

He got on his sore, bruised, knees and crawled to the wall. using his desk to pull himself up. He grabbed a crutch to help his weak knee, and hobbled, broken leg kicked up behind him, into the hallway. He hopped on his weak leg down towards the stairs, Tim's bedroom was in front of him, just three stairs down, five steps, three steps up, eight more feet, and he'd be there. It seemed like miles.

Dick tried to stumble down the first three stairs, tripping and dropping his crutch. He fell forwards, down the steps, his face smacked the hardwood floor. Instantly, he started crying, blood flowing down over his lips and chin like a waterfall. Second major nosebleed of the week.

"Dick? Dickie!" Tim flew down the hall and landed by his little brother. "What happened? What are you doing down here? Are you-" Dick looked up at him, dripping dark blood, which covered his face and hands, and had drizzled across the floor. 
Tim probably would've wanted to puke, if he'd eaten that day. He felt himself getting lightheaded, panicking. "Shh! Shh! It's okay!" Tim shushed the little boy. "Let's get you to the bathroom, and clean you up..." Half the sentence came out as he saw black. The last though he had being: fuck.

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Dick shook his brother. Did Tim trip too? He wasn't bleeding? Dick grabbed Tim's shoulder and shook him as hard as he could. 

"Get Up!" He felt himself getting very scared. From recent experience, either Tim had Tripped, been given bad hot chocolate, broken his leg, or.... Dick began crying tears, not just screaming. He tugged Tim's shirt. "GET UP! GET UP!" He shouted, it was such a little fall, it couldn't have hurt Tim badly! Images of his parents flashed through Dick's head. "TIMMY GET UP!" He pleaded.

Dick collapsed on top of Tim, sobbing hysterically. Droplets and puddles of tears and blood formed on Tim's worn white shirt. Dick's core strength collapsed as he tried to pull Tim's face off the floor. Tim wouldn't wake up.

Dick hugged his brother's body as hard as he could. "get up..." He whimpered, one last time.

Dick cried and bled into Tim's shirt for another few minutes, wishing, preying for the teenager to stand up.

He could barely speak English, but Dick was smart. Even with this twisting his stomach, he knew that he had to do something. Dick crawled across the floor, dragging his cast after him. He reached up and grabbed the handrail of the stairs, dragging his body onto the stairs.

While he'd been away, Terry called every night. Every night he called the portable on the kitchen counter. Jason would grab it since it was so high up.

Bruce told the baby sitter there were numbers on the fridge. Dick had never dialled someone, except when Tim let Dick play on his phone and press the buttons.

All Dick should have to do was look at the symbols on the paper, and press those symbols on the phone. He hoped this would work.

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Damian got home early. Terry wanted to finish something, and since their father wasn't home, Jason had gone on a joyride. It was still later that Dick's bedtime, but earlier that Damian was expecting to be back. 

He started up the stairs, expecting that he'd find the newest family member fast asleep in bed, while Tim got all anxious and creepy, and stood over him.

Tim's body was where it was before, collapsed on the landing, in a pool of blood. Immediately, Damian lowered himself low to the round. He rolled Tim over,  his shirt was very wet and bloody in one spot, but the blood didn't seem to be coming from him.

That's when Damian noticed the trail of little red drips, leading down the stairs. immediately, he stalked after the trail, which took him down the stairs, and dragged through the dining room. Hand on his most convenient blade, Damian rounded into the kitchen.

The crumpled body of the five year old was slumped against the kitchen counters. He was dripping in blood. In both hands, he clutched the portable, which he probably had to climb on a kitchen chair to retrieve. Tears and snot streamed down his face, a piece of paper covered in phone numbers was crumpled in one of his hands, the page was damp from sweat.

"Richard!" 

"Dami?" Dick looked up, his huge blue eyes dripping tears.

"What happened?"

Dick began panicking. "Tim! Timmy! Help! He's-"

"Passed out. I know. What happened?"

"Dead?" Dick croaked.

"Not dead. He just..." Damian tried to find a way  to explain this to a child. "He's asleep." Not really true, but it seemed to calm Dick a little.

"I use to call Tewy!" Dick exclaimed, showing Damian the phone. Dickie had tried his best.

"Good Idea. I'm taking you to the washroom to clean you up." Dick nodded a little. "I'll wake up that coward on the landing."

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Jason may have crashed his motorcycle, and almost had his spine torn out. and he may have needed Terry to give him a drive home. But now, he was in bed. and ready for a hell of a nap. 

His sleep lasted about an hour. Sadly, his room was easiest for Dick to limp to.

"Jay-son, Jay, JAY!" Jason frowned as he felt little hands clasp around his pyjama shirt. "Up! Wake Up!"

He groaned and rolled over. "Go away."

"Bad Dream!" Dick exclaimed, tugging Jason's shirt more.

Jason forced Dick to let go of him. "Lemme guess, same nightmare as always?"

"Badder! Tim!" Dick exclaimed.

Jason grumbled, turning away. "What? Was Tim fall to his death too?"

There was a pause as tears began drizzling down Dick's face. He sniffled, trying not to wail and wake up everyone else. Jason was still turned away. He couldn't go to Tim or Damian, he'd have to go on the stairs to the landing, and Terry was too far away, the monsters would get him!

"Yes." 

Jason could get up and go tell Terry that the baby was crying, and needed to be evicted from his bedroom... but that would mean getting his sore back out of bed.

"Just get in." He grumbled, shifting against the wall, still turned away. Dick struggled swing up his cast-leg, he eventually managed to kick it up onto the mattress, and roll over. He tried to get some blanket from Jason. Jason pulled the blanket away, in his sleep.

Sniffling, Dick cuddled against his brother for warmth.

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Terry panicked when he couldn't find Dick in bed the next morning. He ran to each of his little brothers' rooms, checking to see if he'd come to sleep with them. He almost didn't bother with Jason's room, until he noticed the door was ajar. Jason always closed his door.

Terry peaked inside, only to see a sight he hadn't expected to see for years.

Jason was only have covered in blankets, which he must have kicked off. The slack of the duvet was wrapped around Dick, who was sound asleep. Also wrapped around the child was Jason's right arm, the twelve year old was cuddling Dick against him protectively.

Knowing that the older would never confess to it, Terry snapped a few photos, before leaving the duo to rest.