This wasn't how this night was supposed to go. None of this was how it was supposed to go. He'd wanted a chase, a catch...some making out on a rooftop. Maybe throw Tim over his shoulder and take him to the nearest safehouse...maybe not. Maybe take him there after, so he could peel them both out of their uniforms and take his time to put his boyfriend back together.

Time to put himself back together.

The timing, the places, the intensity, all of that changed with each of their romps, but the routine of it was always the same. Tim would run, Jason would chase...and when he caught his prize, he'd take him apart as he wanted. And afterwards, they'd put each other back together.

So to have that routine so suddenly disrupted was jarring in the worst possible way. Add in the fact that Dick could look at him and think that he could be capable of actually taking advantage of someone like that and, well, his nerves were a little shot. But even as off kilter and wrong footed as he was, Tim moved to wrap his arms around himself and Jason stepped forward to lightly rest a gloved hand at the small of the younger boy's back. Because seeing Tim hurting was a physical pain to him.

Because as jarring as it was for Jason, it had to be just as jarring for Tim.

"Hey...Breathe for me, baby bird. I'm right here. Dickhead isn't going anywhere. Come on. Let's...let's all go back to the Nest. I'll make some hot cocoa and we can, you know, talk or some shit." The last was aimed more at Dick than at Tim, but the anger in his eyes was already starting to fade.

He could deal with his self-hatred later. After he'd taken care of Tim. As long as Tim didn't call him for it, anyway.

"Come on, Dick. We both know you weren't doing shit, anyway." A play for bravado, but it fell about a mile short. He's fine.