Title: Side Effects

Fandom: DCU [which does not belong to me btw]

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Rating: PG

Warnings: Robincest hints, vomit, slight embarrassment squick maybe?

In the same 'verse as Burn

Summery: In which Jason is saved, but really wishes he hadn't been.

Jason lay on the roof of the state building and watched as the stars gleamed in the dark sky. He wanted to take his mask off, but his arms couldn't be bothered to reach up as far as his face.

Stargazing in Gotham was generally quite pointless; the lights and the smog tended to make it impossible to get a good view, but tonight a few stray twinkles could be seen in the murky sky. That didn't detract from the fact that this was a stupid place to die and a truly humiliating way to go out, but at least he wasn't laying in a gutter or staring down the muzzle of a gun.

On second thoughts, the gun would have been quite welcome at this point, he almost wished his body would just hurry the hell up and quit already– this was intolerable.

"Red?"

Nope, he had been wrong now it was intolerable.

"Are you hurt? Jay?" Nightwing crouched beside him, boots crunching on the brickwork. A cool, gloved hand touched Jason's forehead and he felt the other start to run down his body in a business-like manner; searching for injuries.

He tried to remember how to speak and after a few false starts he rasped "F'ck off an' let me die 'n peace." His voice didn't sound like it belonged to him, it barely sounded human.

Dick ignored him, intent on the small puncture wound he had found at the base of Jason's skull. "What happened to your hood, 'Hood?" He asked, voice soft as he poked and prodded the darts entry point.

Jason didn't bother to reply; instead he watched a dark, heavy cloud roll across the sky – blocking the stars from view.

That sort of symbolism was just fucking corny and Jason tried to scowl at the universe in general and Dick in particular. If he could have remembered how his tongue worked, he would probably have said something scathing, but sadly it turned out he was just too damn tired to give a crap. Someone was yelling and he could vaguely feel his body jerking and twisting, but everything hurt too damn much and he closed his eyes, shutting it all out.

When he came to, a myriad of blurred colours and shapes spun in front of him in a confusing whirl. He thought he might be in his apartment, but he couldn't be sure. Jason's stomach heaved and he vomited with a violence that shook his whole body.

When he finally stopped, things were clearer; he felt strong hands holding him steady, a hard surface beneath his knees and a white, burning pain wracking him from head to toe.

"Ok, last few steps"

Familiar voice. It took a moment, but a vague memory of Nightwing floated back to him.

Awesome.

The bathroom loomed in front of him, slowly spinning and warping. Jason tried to move his legs, the toilet sounded like a really good idea at the moment.

After an eternity, Dick managed to haul him into the tiny little bathroom. Once his head was reasonably close to the basin, Dick took him gently by the jaw until they were face to face, and gave him an earnest look. "Its ok, Jay, I've given you the antidote, but your body is going to spend the next few hours purging itself of the poison."

Purging sounded like a particularly ominous word at the moment. Jason glowered, stomach still churning. There were puke stains on Nightwing's suit and although he didn't seem to mind, Jason did - this was beyond humiliating, he really wanted to be left in peace.

"F'ck off"

Dick just gave him one of those annoying Grayson looks. "If you would rather, I could just leave you for Batman to find, drowned in puke and swimming in your own mess."

Jason glared with all the strength he could manage, Dick just grinned.

At that point, Jason's world whited out as his body heaved and shook – expelling everything he had ever eaten.

His ears stopped ringing just in time to hear his brother chirpy voice "Wow, I have to say I have never seen vomiting like that - even last week when we suffered through this poison" Dick paused as Jason puked again "I think it might have reached terminal velocity there!"

He didn't know how the moron could remain so, so … perky, considering the situation; the noise and smell alone were upsetting Jason and it was his body being gross! He was fairly sure he had not done anything bad enough to deserve this kind of Karma, but apparently the universe disagreed with him. There was a bad feeling in his stomach, and he realized things were about to get even worse. He might have whimpered, but he would deny it forever.

Dick seemed to know what the problem was "Do you need the toilet?"

If he still had his gun he would have shot himself – actually he would have just shot Dick. Problem solved. Instead, he had to let his brother – who was now prattling about the best kind of toilet paper - pull his pants down and maneuver him onto the can.

"Its alright Jay" Dick had that kind, sincere face on, it made Jason want to punch it, but he really didn't have the strength.

This was a nightmare. He closed his eyes, pretending to be somewhere else.

Jason woke up cold, the sort of cold that was both physical and mental. After a moment of feeling indignant he noticed his body felt like it had been through a tumble dryer full of acid.

So far, being conscious sucked.

He cracked open an eye and saw warm afternoon light streaming through his blinds. So the good news was he was in his apartment, not some deserted warehouse or nasty-ass drug den. The bad news seemed to be that he felt like he had lost a fight with Killer Crock – and maybe been eaten and digested by him. That would explain all the goddamn pain.

Now he was more awake, he could feel a small bit of warmth against his back and, risking disaster, he very, very carefully turned towards the other side of his bed.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but half naked Nightwing wrapped in his blankets wasn't it. Dick appeared deeply asleep, his mouth was hanging open slightly, his hair was mussed and he was hogging all the bedding. Jason was pissed, but he lacked the strength and dexterity to issue any sort of serious retribution, instead he slowly and with great effort lifted his closest hand and flicked his brother between the eyes. The response was instantaneous; Dick flew upwards in a flurry of blankets and flailing limbs. Jason snatched his covers as his brother thrashed about and searched for a threat.

To be honest, Jason knew he didn't want to remember last night, but he had a horrible feeling the memories were going to come crashing down on him like a ton of shit. He shuddered and pulled the quilt over his head.

The bed rocked as Dick settled back down and started tugging the bedding away from him.

"How you feeling this morning Jay?" The assholes voice was infuriatingly chipper. "Stomach settled? You need to drink some water to avoid further dehydration."

Oh right, now he remembered.

Jason groaned and tried to spontaneously combust.

"Don't be a wuss, Jay." Dick wasn't going away, so Jason poked his head out and glared. He felt a moment of satisfaction when his brother recoiled from the fierceness of his expression, but that didn't last long.

"Holy crap! You look terrible! Wait, I'll get you a glass of water" Dick sprang off the bed and strode towards the kitchen. Despite feeling like road-kill Jason took a grudging moment to admire Dicks ass – clad in tight little superman boxers. Seriously, what kind of self-respecting adult wore superman boxers - and how the fuck did he manage to make them look sexy and not stupid?

Jason screwed his eyes shut, and for the second time in twenty-four hours; he prayed for death.

Instead of death - for the second time in twenty-four hours- he got Nightwing. Who was talking at him, that pluss the pounding head ache was making him feel like he would really rather enjoy the afterlife; anything but this.

"Dick" He said at last, unable to take anymore, "Please, if you have any mercy for me at all, fuck off"

Dick didn't even appear slightly indignant. "There's no need to be embarrassed, Jay" he said, touching Jason's wrist where it lay against the covers. "Bruce and I went through the same thing. At the same time, more or less." He grinned "Now that was embarrassing!"

"Please stop talking"

"You think you had it bad?" Dick scrunched up his nose, "The only help I had was from Damian!"

Ok, that did actually sound like a story Jason wanted to hear, he raised his eyebrows, slowly, so his head didn't explode.

"After administering the antidote, Bruce went upstairs" Dick said rolling his eyes dramatically

"At a dignified waddle, right?" Jason smirked, that did make him feel a bit better actually.

Dick huffed a laugh. "Something like that. I don't think he wanted Damian to see him lose control." He sounded wistful, whether that was because of Bruce or his weirdly parental relationship with the Demon Spawn, Jason wasn't sure.

"So the devil-child didn't get sick? Was he grounded?" He asked.

"No, he was with us, I honestly think he is impervious to most poisons, the effects never seem to take that bad." Dick looked pensive suddenly, "Most of the time anyway" he added, eyes sad.

Clearly there was some awful trauma there that Jason really couldn't give a shit about. He snorted, "Yeah 'cos even microbes avoid him."

" Don't be mean!" Dick's voice was hard but he was smiling.

"Seriously have you tried squirting him with holy water? See if he sizzles?"

A lazy hand smacked Jason in the face and he manfully resisted the urge to lick it. Damn, he really needed to get laid. "If it's any consolation I like him better than Timbo the wonder Dog," He offered.

Instead of bothering with a verbal reprimand, Dick shoved a finger just below his Adams apple, almost making him hurl.

"Tim is one of my most favorite people ever – so watch your mouth" Dick said casually, there was no real threat in his voice, but he was probably being serious.

Not feeling up to being sick again, Jason went back to a less tense subject.

"So the Brat Wonder held the hair off your face as you puked?"

Dick shot him a look, "Yeah, he mopped my brow too, even said a little prayer over me." Jason sniggered.

"You want to know what his bedside manner is like?" Dick widened his eyes and his voice went up a register "Don't be such a wimp Grayson! You're an embarrassment!" he flapped a hand, contorting his face into a parody of disbelieving horror "Why is your vomit green? Is that Crocky Crunch? Do you ever eat anything else? You're going to get scurvy you ridiculous man!"

Jason's belly hurt as he tried to hold back the snorts of laughter fighting their way free. "Only you could become a ten year old's bitch, Dickie!" Jason took a calming breath, but it didn't really do much to help.

"Hey!" Dick retorted, but there was a smile in his voice. Apparently he didn't mind the implied insult. Typical.

There was a long moment of companionable silence. Jason stared at the flaking paint on the front corner of his bedroom ceiling, and it occurred to him that this was the second time in under a month Nightwing had been in his bed.

Suddenly he felt awkward. Jason turned his head to find Dick looking at him, expression carefully blank. His pulse increased slightly, and the feeling of discomfort intensified as they were on the cusp of something, whether it be violence, communication or something else. Jason couldn't help but feel the ball was in his court. He had a brief fantasy of pushing Dick into the mattress and plundering his mouth and body, another where he throttled the life out of him. He thought about Bruce, about the 'family' and about all the need and love and trust he would never have from them.

"Get out" His voice was still husky but it was icy cold.

Dick's expression barely changed although something undecipherable flashed through his eyes. He gracefully rolled off the bed and grabbed his suit from the floor. It was almost dark out, almost time for Good Bats and Birds to hit the skies. When he emerged from the bathroom, Nightwing was fully in place, his eyes hidden behind the white lenses of his mask. "Take care Jay" he said, voice strong and quiet. "I'll email you the formula for the antidote to the Devil's Bite."

Jason wanted to make a crack about the name of the poison and Damian, but he didn't. Instead he watched his brother launch himself out of the window and into the dusk.

His body felt like shit, and his brain was buzzing like a hive of bees had taken up residence, but what stayed in his mind was the feeling that he had just missed an opportunity.