The first time he leaves Tim alone, after Tim gets out of the hospital and comes to live with him, Jason has a meeting with a couple of dealers who are trying to gain power in his territory. It's not so much a meeting really, but a warning that they better pay up or stay out. Jason doesn't think he'll be gone longer than an hour, hour and a half at the most. He tells Tim as much as he's waved out the door by the boy, looking so much younger than eighteen in Jason's too-big sweats.

Jason's in the middle of his "meeting" when the call comes. He turns all his communication devices off during meetings, its best to have all his attention on the morally bankrupt individuals who work for him, except the phone whose number is down on about a zillion forms as Tim's emergency contact. So the trilling and vibrations coming from his jacket pocket are definitely a good reason to use some force and end this meeting early.

It takes Jason less then fifteen minutes to get changed into civvies and get to the hospital. It takes another fifteen minutes to get the asshole at the desk to tell him where Tim is, and a half an hour of sitting in the waiting room feeling useless before a doctor comes out to tell him what the hell's going on.

"Mr. Todd? Peter Todd?" The doc is in his early forties, with bags under his eyes that say he didn't become a doctor for the money; it's rare to find a doc who actually gives a shit working at St. Bart's, but it happens.

"Yeah, yeah… I'm, that's me." Jason's got enough training not to show his nerves, but he's also aware enough to know in the real world people get shaken up by medical emergencies; so he puts his acting lessons (thank you Alfred) to use.

The doc grasps Jason hand gives it a firm shake, "I'm Doctor Winters. Mr. Todd, first I just want to let you know that Timothy is going to be just fine. He had a little bit of trouble breathing because of the smoke inhalation, but we've got that under control. I'd like to keep him under observation tonight just in case, but it looks like he should be good to go home tomorrow."

Jason doesn't even have to fake confusion when he asks, "Smoke inhalation?"

Doctor Winters looks a bit taken aback, but schools his features and soldiers on, "I'm sorry, I thought you'd been informed… it seems there was a fire at Mr. Drake's place of residence. He was asleep when the fire started, neighbors called it in. He was brought in by ambulance after the fire rescue squad found him."

It feels like a lead weight has dropped into his stomach, and Jason can't help stumbling a little at the thought of Tim asleep in a burning apartment. Tim's anxiety meds zonk him out for hours at a time; sometimes nothing can wake him up until the pills have left his system. What if no one had called it in? Tim could be dead and Jason… he'd be alone all over again.

"Can I see him?" Jason doesn't recognize his own voice but it doesn't matter, because Winters is nodding and leading him to Tim. Tim. His poor broken bird. And dammit, Jason should have been there with Tim. Someone should have been with Tim. He's not ready to be alone, to do things on his own. Why didn't Jason think about this? Why hadn't he realized something bad would happen if he left Tim alone? Tim.

Tim is unbearably tiny in the hospital bed. His skin is so pale, almost the same color as the white sheets; his black hair, just starting to grow past regulated length, is stark against his pillow. Machines are beeping in time with Tim's pulse, and he's hooked up to oxygen and some kind of IV. He's unconscious or just sleeping, but either way, he's so still. It breaks Jason's heart a little to see the kid in a hospital again, so soon after getting out. He tries to reassure himself that this hospital stay won't set Tim back, 'cause it's nothing like the psych ward, except for how it's exactly the same.

Tim's eyes flutter open when Jason grabs his hand and Tim looks so scared, Jason's heart breaks just a little.

"Jay," Tim croaks his voice rough from the smoke, "Jay I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I- I wasn't feeling… I got scared and you were gone and I just took the Xanax so I could calm down, but I fell asleep and I must have forgotten the iron and I-" his voice breaks, "don't make me go back Jay, I don't wanna go back, please."

"No, kiddo. No, you just, you just got a little sick from the smoke so they brought you to the hospital. You're gonna have to stay here overnight, just to be sure you're alright, but they said you should be able to come home tomorrow, alright? Don't worry no one's sending you back."

The relief on the kid's face makes Jason feel a little sick, he hates that Tim is so messed up he thinks Jason would send him away for an accident. An expensive accident mind you, and Jason's gonna be up all night finding and furnishing a new apartment, but still not something he'd send Tim back to the loony-bin for. Jason lets himself pet Tim's hair for a moment.

"Get some sleep kiddo," he tells Tim, continuing to stoke the boys hair. He waits until Tim's breathing evens back out before pulling out his phone. He's got more than a few favors to call in before Tim's released tomorrow; it's gonna be a long night.