“Like what? I didn’t say you’re doing anything—,” he started to retort, before Jason shoved the escrima aside and Tim caught it in his hand. He let Tim hold onto the weapon below his own grip, a clear sign of trust. No amount of his most basic of reflexes would make him strike out against Tim.

His brows drew together as his mouth shut and Tim spoke, though his gaze remained on Jason, not out of defence or suspicion, but because there was that telltale quiver of Jason’s mouth. It wasn’t until Tim shared Jason’s fear that Dick was turning his gaze to Tim, brows knitting closer together in a something akin to confusion.

All those days returning to Tim’s side after Jason aired his grievances and suddenly his actions were in question. He was speechless for a beat as he looked to Jason then back to Tim again.

“I—had no idea.” Sure, yes, he had tossed in the odd tease about Tim hiding love bites, but that hasn’t been all it was. There was more bruising than that, and Dick had been worried for Tim. Then to see Jason run Tim down and shove him against a wall triggered an emotion that went beyond thinking—fear.

Putting how he felt into words was a challenge when his mind still struggled to tamp down the bitter jealousy that was starting to rise up his throat. As rare as it was for him to feel it, he hated it, clenched his jaw against it and gently tugged his escrima out of Tim’s hand. He sheathed the weapon away into its holster at the small of his back

“I wouldn’t judge you for it.” That he even had to explain it hurt. His anger sizzled out and the heat in his voice was replaced by something quiet, raw like a fresh wound. “I’m—glad you’ve worked things out. I wish either of you would’ve just told me and I would’ve stayed somewhere else. You wouldn’t need to sneak around behind my back.”