Me: Okay I should make this a little fluffy

The voice in the back of my head: MAKE IT ANGSTY

Me: Well shit I guess I'll do that

Dick's mouth opened to say something. Anything. He needed an excuse but he couldn't pluck one out of thin air. Tim stared at him in a similar shock. He couldn't believe it. Why didn't he say something about this? He suspected this wasn't the only one he'd received either. It made reference to at least two others, both being sent last weekend. It was detailed too. The violent acts explained clearly and methodically rather than quick and outlandish like most death threats were. This wasn't some "I hope you kill yourself" Twitter reply, this was serious. Half the stuff in there was so specific it painted a very vivid image in his head. He didn't want that image there. He walked over to a drawer he knew Dick kept his important things in. Sure enough, there were more letters. Dick moved forwards to stop him but didn't get very far. Tim shifted through the letters in disgust of the language and acts included in them. "How long has this been going on for?" Tim asked.

"Tim, please-"

"How long?" he repeated only more sternly. 

Dick sat on the couch with his legs folded and his head in his hands. "Started around the same time as when I got this place so half a year maybe," he admitted. Tim let out a tiny gasp, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he clenched the letters tighter. He threw them onto the countertop, wishing they'd incinerate with one glare. He shyly walked over and sat next to the older. "Who's sending them?"

"Damned if I know. Damned if anybody knows in all honesty. I don't even know if it's one person or multiple," he answered, moving his hands so they were holding his arms. He squeezed them tightly in search of comfort but he couldn't get it. He hadn't been able to get it for the last two weeks. "I'm not normally freaked out by these things. I've been getting threats since I was a kid and found where Bruce was burning them but... some of them just don't sit right," he expanded.

"You should've told Bruce," Tim insisted.

"Why do you think he's been away so much?" Dick asked. Tim stared at him, desperately trying to connect the dots. "I told him to make an excuse. He's been trying to find who's doing this since I can hardly find the time. Only got him involved when my paranoia got the best of me and I thought an old lady was trying to kill me in a back alley." He laughed to himself but it wasn't a real laugh.

Tim took a minute to let it all sink in. "You didn't want to hang out with me this weekend, did you? This was just because you were scared of being alone," he said glumly. Dick quickly grabbed one of his hands tightly, giving him a smile. 

"Quite the opposite. I wanted you here to spend time with you. We haven't made any headway on the case and just in case things didn't work out, I wanted a good weekend before then."

"What do you mean?" Tim inquired desperately.

"Whoever this is said they were coming here on Monday morning to finally have their way. From the stuff they've written, I'm not in for a good time. I can't even go anywhere to hide because they're constantly watching," he elaborated. He sighed, seeing Tim's expression become more fearful. "Tim, I think you should go home. This isn't fair on you," he stated, realizing the danger he was putting his brother in. Tim shook his head furiously. 

"No way am I going home. I'll get Batgirl to cover Bluhaven tonight and we can buckle down on this. We have two days to figure it out and, if not, I'll play truant to keep you safe."

"Might want to tell B that plan or he'll have my head for not getting you in school." The younger nodded, pulling out his phone to tell Bruce about the plan straight away. Before he did, he squeezed Dick's forearm comfortingly. "I'll keep you safe, it's about time I repaid the favour," he stated. Dick smiled. 

"Thanks, Tim."

Two whole days and they were no closer to figuring out who was doing this. All the letters had been written in a different hand, some even typed out, making handwriting analysis incredibly difficult. Even if the handwriting was all the same, they didn't have a soul to compare it to. Nightwing had enemies to spare but Dick didn't have that. The most he got were a few scathing reports from journalists who thought the world was created a few thousand years ago and vaccines caused autism. As dumb and aggravating as they were, they weren't a threat and Tim doubted any of them could construct such well-formed sentences. "There's got to be something! A jilted lover? An unpaid debt?" Tim inquired.

"I told you, Tim, there's no one like that in my life. I don't have any outstanding debts and I haven't dated anyone seriously in ages to provoke something like this," he replied sternly. 

"What about stalkers?"

"Never had one." Tim groaned and glanced at the clock.

"What time are they supposed to come?"

"In a few minutes. Look, Tim, I appreciate what you're doing but I think it's best you leave this to me." Tim looked at him in disbelief. There was no way in hell that he was going to just leave his brother to the mercy of some unknown attacker. 

"If you think I'm leaving you then you're sorely mistaken. You've kept this to yourself long enough and you're not dealing with it alone anymore." Dick was about to continue the debate but then there was a knock at the door. 

"Stay here, they won't be able to see you from the doorway. Any sign of trouble and you run."

The older got up and cautiously walked up to the door. He took a look through the peephole, finding someone a little taller than him with a mask on. He noted that they had black hair and was that white streak? "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered. Dick opened the door and the person lunged at him, shouting boo at the top of their lungs. "Jason!" he yelled. The masked person pulled up their disguise to reveal a disappointed expression. 

"Way to take all the fun out of it Goldie," he replied with a small pout. 

"Oh, I'm the problem here, not you for saying you were going to kill me today!" Dick shouted, pushing him harshly before returning to the living room. 

"I do that whenever I want you to know I'm in town."

"You have my phone number, just text me," the older pointed out.

"Where's the fun in that?" Jason now took notice of Tim who looked completely bewildered.

"You did this? What the fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted, holding himself back from beating the living daylights out of the immature older. 

"Did someone put a stick up both your arses? It was just a joke."

"Putting a whoopie cushion on a chair is a joke, sending over fifty death threats isn't."

Jason's devious smile fell. "I only sent the one with the time on," he admitted. He walked over to the table and looked over the letters. Only one of them was from him. Dick sighed, gathering the papers up and shoving them back in the drawer. "Dick, you've got some serious problems here. Even Bruce doesn't get that many," Tim said. "You can't just shove it in a drawer."

"They're probably all jokes like Jay's was. Plus it's not like anyone has actually acted on them. They're all just empty threats," Dick replied, avoiding eye contact. He was lying through his teeth. It would only be a matter of time before someone acted on what they said. "Great job Jason, now he's gonna think they're all jokes," Tim scolded. 

"Hey, I didn't know anything about the other ones. I thought the whole "we hate Dick for no reason" trend died when he ran off," he defended.

"It didn't. People have a tendency to find a way to tell me what they think of me," Dick replied. He stood in silence for a few seconds, thinking about the people who would rather see him dead. His eyes welled up a little. Sure he couldn't put faces nor names for what was being said, he couldn't even be sure if they weren't all from the same person, but that didn't stop the feeling of being unwanted creep in. God, he hated that feeling. He wished he could just see it rot away. He quickly recollected himself upon feeling his brother's eyes on him. "That's enough of that anyway. I'm sure nothing will come of it." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and plastered a smile on his face. "Alright, since you wanted to get a hold of me, is there something I can do you for?"

"Fancied crashing with you for a few days. My safe house blew up, don't ask." Dick let out a tired chuckle. 

"I've learnt not to at this point. I'll take Tim home then clean up your usual spot. C'mon Timmy." The younger gathered the things he hadn't bothered to unpack during their weekend together and shouldered his bag, making sure to hit Jason with it. "Let's hope Bruce doesn't kill me for wasting both of your times."

Once they left, Jason walked over to the drawer where the death threats were kept. There was one he recognized when he shuffled through them before and he just had to make sure it was true. He rummaged through the papers until he found the letter. His breath hitched slightly before he let out a quiet gasp. He'd seen the signs. He'd have to tell Dick when he came back. He couldn't help but feel thankful that he'd decided to crash with the older rather than a mate's. The letter was from Joker. He knew it and by one look at the date, the clown prince of crime wouldn't be wasting any time living up to his word.