“Depends.” Tim smirked, keeping pressure on his side as they walked. The cape shielded most of his body from view, although the slight breeze through the streets played around the hem and flowed through it every few hundred yards.
The younger sucked in a breath and moved faster, the heavy fabric rippling out behind him once the sirens picked up. He was busy glancing behind them for signs of pursuit when Jason stopped and shoved him toward a nondescript doorway.
“Think your stone self would fit in the Robin su–agh,” he choked, shoulders hunched and arms curling protectively around his torso. Leave it to Jason to find and shove the one place he was hurting. “Hood what’re you– my place is that way–”
Tim pushed the man’s hand away, trying to edge past where Jason had him crowded up against the door. This might be where Jason stopped for the night, but Tim had another two or three blocks to go, and the cops weren’t that far away. They’d be fanning out in a perimeter search soon, and Tim needed to be home by then to avoid getting caught.
“Yes, I know where you live,” Jason drawled, not missing how Tim curled into himself in pain. “I also know that you’re trying to hide an injury, and that you have a superhuman capacity for denial, so—this is our stop.”
Jason pushed the door open and nudged Tim forward again, past the threshold. “C’mon, I’ll patch you up and then you can go be stubborn to your heart’s content.”
This safehouse had no decorations to speak of, providing only the basic furniture and living essentials. All Jason needed from it was a place to rest his head, some non-perishable food, a few changes of clothes, and, of course, medical supplies, which was all it had.
