Chapter Text
Tim is taking a long time in the shower. Jason’s changed, sorted through his collection of blankets, made a quick pasta in case Tim wants to eat something, and Tim still isn’t out. Jason is no stranger to the therapeutic power of long, hot showers, but he hasn’t heard a single peep from the bathroom.
“Tim?” Jason knocks on the door, “Tim, are you done?”
No answer.
“Tim?” he calls out louder, “You’ve been in there for twenty minutes. You okay?”
Jason can’t hear anything but the sound of the shower. The bathroom doesn’t have a window, and Jason can’t help the curl of fear twisting in his gut.
“Tim, if you don’t answer, I’m coming in,” he says as levelly as he can. The last thing he wants to do is invade Tim’s personal space, but his safety is a higher priority. “Tim?”
Still nothing. Jason swears out loud, and grabs his lock picks.
Tim is inside the bathtub, clothes on, staring blankly into space. Jason swears again, and when he checks the water, he hisses and jerks his hand back.
“Shit, kid,” Jason leans forward to turn the water off, “The water’s freezing.” He presses the back of his palm to the kid’s skin, and is alarmed at how cold it is.
If Tim wasn’t sitting upright, Jason would half think he’s a corpse.
“Fuck,” Jason whispers, putting a gentle hand on the kid’s shoulder, “Tim? Tim, can you hear me?” Tim’s eyes don’t focus on him, and Jason’s inhale is choked. He needs to—Tim is freezing, he needs to deal with that first. “We’re going to get you warmed up and cleaned off, okay?” Jason says quietly, “You can—just tell me to stop if you want me to stop.”
Jason doesn’t think Tim’s capable of taking him up on that right now, but his skin is clammy and there’s no one else to help. He twists the knob to hot and turns the water back on before going for the soap.
Tim huddles away from the spray, but makes no move to stop Jason from gently extending his arm. “The soap is some cucumber thing,” Jason says steadily, sliding the loofah against Tim’s skin, wiping off dirt and sweat and blood, “Cucumber and mango. Can you smell the mango?” The kid’s eyes are firmly shut.
“I bought the cucumber and avocado one last time, and I felt like I was a salad,” Jason rambles on, seizing any casual topic that comes to mind, “Can you imagine? People are going overboard with scent. There was a sandalwood soap I used when I was with the—when I was younger, and it smelled really nice. Have you smelled sandalwood before?”
Jason doesn’t let the lack of response stop him, just continues the one-sided conversation, periodically interjecting questions to wait and see if Tim answers. The kid is silent as Jason cleans him off, careful to keep his movements slow and soft.
Tim starts crying at one point, and Jason is forced to ease him away from the wall as shudders wrack the thin frame. The water’s soaking Jason’s shirt, but that’s the last thing he cares about right now, all his attention focused on the dissociating child in the bathtub.
The kid’s face and hair are next, and Jason carefully tilts his head so the spray isn’t in his eyes as Jason washes out his hair. Blood has matted into the dark locks, and Jason slowly combs it out until the water no longer runs red. Tim’s face is last, and Jason gently cleans off the last splatters of blood as shattered blue eyes stare through him, tears leaking from the corners.
Something inside of him is roiling. Something inside of him is raging. Jason wants to find every single person who contributed to that expression on this kid’s face, and murder them.
Unfortunately, he’s probably pretty high up on that list.
Jason shuts the water off and gently engulfs Tim in a large, fluffy towel, pulling him out of the shower and onto the closed toilet. It’s like moving a rag doll. “Going to dry you off now,” Jason narrates shakily, and kneels in front of Tim as he begins to towel him dry.
The kid is no longer freezing, and he’s blinking and tracking Jason’s movements, and when Jason finishes and retrieves the stack of clothes for Tim to change into, the kid actually focuses on him.
The dull horror isn’t any better than the blank dissociation.
“You can change your clothes,” Jason says gently, “I’ll be outside.” He leaves Tim, closing the door behind him, and lets out a ragged breath.
Fuck. Something inside of him twists so viciously Jason has to take a moment to breathe. He is never, ever going to let something like this happen to the kid again.