(So this came to light when I saw this adorable picture on Pinterest. I couldn't resist. This is my first fanfic in this fandom, so I apologize for any OOCness of characters.

I don't own anything, sadly. If I did, there'd be more Batbro Bonding and a lot more stealthy Bathugs.)

It was a typical night at Tim's apartment. The bird in question was typing away on his laptop, dressed in Red Robin regalia (minus the cowl). He literally had fifty different tabs open and was alternating between them. As to how he could remember what they all were was anyone's guess. The point is he was busy. His face was gaunt and pale, huge purple bags under his eyes. (Then again, he always looked like that since the Joker.* It was just more pronounced.) Everything about him oozed exhaustion.

Let's be honest, though. Was that really news?

The third Robin paused in typing up a mission report, rubbing his eyes with his left hand and reaching for his coffee mug with the right. He attempted to drink from it, but nothing entered his waiting mouth. It was nearly as dry on the inside as it was on the outside. Then again, he had drank it in two swallows.

In his defense, he was really hyped up. He had tried making coffee with Red Bull instead of water in the hopes that it would make the rush last longer. It really didn't do anything beneficial - he swears, though, that he could see sound waves in a freaky out-of-body type experience. However, the caffeine crash was nigh, and he still had hours worth of things to do. WE, patrol, Teen Titans, patrol, the missing people in London, patrol. Had he mentioned patrol? His head was pounding with a stress and caffeine hangover migraine and all he wanted to do was take a nap. Maybe he could just close his eyes for a second. . . .

CRASH AND SHATTERING SOUNDS!

Tim jolted awake at a loud crash. He looked at the closest clock to check the time. It took a few seconds for the four images to line up, but he figured out he'd been resting for ten minutes. Well, that was enough of a nap. It was time to keep working. He stretched, instantly regretting it, and went back to staring at his laptop screen.

The fact he didn't even notice Jason literally breathing down his neck was a testament to his exhaustion.

"Hi, Babybird." Tim literally jumped out of his seat, and only a large hand on his shoulder kept him from falling. "Man, are you jumpy."

Tim moved his head to look at his older brother. He was still in his costume, his red helmet under his arm. His hair was messy, like always, the white streak contrasting sharply against the black. "Oh. Hey, Jay. What are doing here?"

The first thing Jason noticed was how tired Tim looked. A foreign feeling rose up in his chest. Worry? Concern? Stop making me feel! Whatever it was, he pushed it away as best as he could and replaced it with snark. "I visit occasionally. I especially visit on Pie Day." At Tim's blank look, the elder raised an eyebrow. "Never mind why I'm here, Tiny Tim. What is it that you're doing that requires more of your attention that your own brother?"

"Oh, just work." Tim gestured in the general direction of the computer screen.

Jason leaned in, one hand braced against the teen and the other on the desk. He whistled a single low note at the sight of all the tabs. "Geez, when are you going to sleep?" He asked, leaning back again. Tim shrugged, letting out a noncommittal murmur, and turned back to continue typing.

Normally Jason would leave to go take a shower at his place, but there was something off about Tim. "So, how long have you been up?"

Tim's fingers slowed on the keyboard as his brain caught the question. Twenty seconds later, he finally answered. "One hundred and fifty two hours, ten minutes, and thirteen seconds."

Jason gaped at him, his mouth open wide enough to worry about flies flying through. Now, it wasn't uncommon for Tim to be up for a few days at a time, surviving off protein bars and coffee with the occasional energy drink, but this was a whole new level. Six days was too much for anyone. It took a second, but he eventually managed to pull himself together. "Okay, Babybird, you're going to bed. Now."

Tim shook his head and wrapped his arms around his laptop in a death grip. "I can't. I have so many things to do and most of them are due tomorrow."

Well, wasn't the good-looking zombie in a tight spot now. Tim wasn't going to get to bed without a fight, that much was obvious. Granted, he could easily hit him upside the head and force him to rest that way, but Dickie Bird would probably kill him with murder hugs if something happened to the second littlest bird.

Then an idea popped in his head. An almost evil smirk graced his features, but he hid it before Tim could get suspicious. "Fine." He said, taking a step back with his hands raised in a placating manner. "I won't drag you away from this. How about I get you some more coffee? You like coffee, right?"

Jason strode over to the kitchen, turning the light on. It resembled what the aftermath would look like if Batman and Superman got in a fight. He pushed that unlikely thought out of his mind and navigated the treacherous ground to get to the coffeemaker. As he got it started,** he pondered about what drove his little OCD Tim to this state. Too many things, he thought grimly. He was going to have a little talk with Bruce.

The coffee machine dinged, announcing the completion of the caffeine creation. Jason poured it so that the mug was 3/4ths full with the steamy brown liquid. Then he took a little packet out of his pocket. As he tore it open and poured the contents in, he called over his shoulder, "Do you want anything in your drink? Sugar, milk, the blood of your enemies?"

"Nnngh."

"Thank you for those very clear and very detailed directions." Jason muttered sarcastically, stirring the drink a few times. It wasn't as good as Alfred's, but it would have to do. He tossed the spoon in the sink with the rest of the dirty dishes and walked back into the main room. Tim was staring at the screen still. Jason was starting to worry that his neural circuits had fried. He put the drink in Tim's hands, wrapping the smaller fingers around it. "Drink."

While Tim drank, Jason scooted another chair over and laid his arm over a pair of narrow shoulders. He tried to ignore how much thinner they were than normal. His other arm drifted over to the keyboard, the tips of the fingers brushing the number pad. Tim almost immediately began to sag against the stronger frame, his head dropping occasionally. He was trying to stay awake so much that it almost physically pained Jason. He leaned over slightly and whispered, "Just go to sleep, you overachiever."

Tim didn't need any more encouragement. He sighed once and was out like a light.

Jason leaned back in his chair, feeling satisfied with himself. He'd conquered the Tim and finally got him to sleep. He started to stand up before realizing that there was a major problem.

He was trapped. With Tim mostly on him, his legs were pinned rather tightly under the desk. He couldn't slide out the way he came because the chair legs were tangled with the one Tim was on and he couldn't wiggle out on the sides because the chair had armrests.

"Well . . . crap." Jason frantically gave a last ditch effort to escape before he finally determined the he was stuck. He had two options now: wait for Tim to wake up, or call Dick to get him out. Each had their own pros and cons. With the first, he'd have to sit in the same place for who knows how long, but he wouldn't lose face with Nightwing. He'd just gotten on (somewhat) good terms with the family again. Then again, if he got Dick to come here, he could get free and yell at him for piling so much on Timmy.

He made his decision.

Taking out his phone, he dialed Dick's number and waited, trying to tune out the little mumbles that Tim was making. The smallest bird had somehow gotten himself twisted up and was nuzzled into Jason, his left hand on his chest with the right outstretched. It was adorable. The emotion returned.

No! Too much feels!

"'Ello, governor. This is Dick."

Screaming at Dick was a great way to ignore whatever was squeezing his heart uncomfortably. "Get you black and blue butt over here. Now." Jason wasn't one for formalities.

There was a pause before Dick answered. "Jason?"

Duh. "No. It's his evil twin."

"What's up?"

"Come over to the Babybird's place. I've got a situation."

"Tim? He's okay, isn't he?" There was a protective edge to the first Robin's voice.

"Yeah. Just come over and you'll see. Jay out." Jason hung up abruptly, putting the rectangle on the desk. He looked over at the computer (the screensaver was on, a picture of all of the Bat Family at Yellowstone. Bruce and Diana*** were in the back, smooching; Dick was holding Babs bridal style and his girlfriend was kissing his cheek; Jason and Cass were trying to stop Tim and Damian from killing each other), and he couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was Tim was so stressed out about. He'd mentioned there was a lot of business he needed to do, but what exactly it all was was the question. He tapped the touch pad and looked at the many tabs open, clicking through them all.

Well, now he had a clearer understanding about what he would be screaming about.

There were some things, however, that Jason knew he himself could do. Simple case files and reports and whatnot were well within his range. As a decent big brother, he felt like he should probably help out a little. Then Tim wouldn't be as furious when he realised who drugged him.

It seemed like a few minutes had passed when there was a knock at the window. Jason was finishing up his second case file, the one of the missing persons in London, when the rapping of knuckles on glass alerted him to the presence of a certain knucklehead asking for a knuckle sandwich. Considering he was still stuck, Jason called, "Come in", and at the sound of the window sliding open, threw a pen with perfect accuracy.

"Ow!" Dick cried, his elegant roll turning into a fantastic flop. His right hand was over his right eye, which was covered with a domino mask. He'd obviously been prepared for a fight. "What gives?"

Jason pointed at Dick dramatically, using his other arm to cradle Tim. "You! You are what gives!"

Dick looked confused. "What?" He sounded hurt.

"You and Bruce and, well, everyone, has been working Tim ragged! Get over here!" Jason waited for Dick to get within sight of the screen before clicking on various tabs, displaying how much work had been piled up on their sixteen year old brother. "Look! This kid hasn't slept in six days, Dick! Even when I arrived, he refused to go to bed. I had to drug his coffee. He's probably going to have trust issues with caffeine now!"

Okay, that last part may have been an exaggeration, but Jason needed to push Dick's guilt buttons.

Dick looked at the laptop, then at Tim, then at Jason. "I'm sorry. I had no idea. I just thought -"

"That's your problem. You just thought. Tell me, when was the last time you saw him look like this?" Jason interrupted him before he could answer. "I'd say he hasn't looked this bad since the Joker got him.* You overestimate how much he can take. Tell Bruce to run his own dang company and stop shoving all your assignments on him just because you want to go on a date with Babs or hang out with Wally instead." Jason paused and added, "Also, I may have gotten myself stuck while getting him to fall asleep."

Dick, who had been on the verge of crying the entire time, chuckled a little at the last sentence. He took his domino mask off, brushing away a tear with his thumb, grabbed the edges of the chair, and yanked. Tim almost fell off, only Jason's firm grip keeping him stable. "Better?"

"Better." Jason affirmed, flexing his legs. The sensation of pins and needles stabbed into every nerve. "Hey, could you get Babybird? I kind of can't get him to a horizontal surface right now."

Dick didn't hesitate to pick Tim up. While Jason was getting his circulation back, the eldest bird walked over to a side room. Of course, Red didn't really want to be around when Dick came back to suffer his hugs, so he forced himself to his feet. By the time Dick returned, the crime lord was gone.

* Ever seen Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker? Well, what happened to Tim in that movie happened to Tim here. He's mostly gotten over it, but he has paler skin, dark circles around his eyes, and a face twitch that occurs at random times.

** Sorry, but since I don't drink coffee, I don't know how to use a machine.

*** I ship them almost as hard as I ship Cass and Tim. Don't judge me!

I'd also like to apologize about the rushed ending.

EDIT, April 9, 2017: Looking back on this, I saw some errors that were killing me.