[Dick had been about to knock again when Tim opened the door, and for a second, all he could do was stare at his brother. He remembered trying to comfort him when he'd found his father's body on the floor of their apartment, and he remembered Tim bleeding to death on the floor in front of him, telling him it wasn't his fault, and watching Dean hold Sam's body and cry, and what it had been like to feel Tim go limp in his arms and know he was dead-
He moved forward and pulled Tim into a hug without really thinking about it, holding him tightly and just irrationally needing to reassure himself that Tim was fine. He was alive, it was just a dream. His throat felt tight again, and he swallowed thickly, still a little beyond caring about tackling his brother for a hug stupidly early in the morning in the hallway.]
Don't ever do that again. [His voice was choked, almost angry, but he didn't move away. Explanations could come in a minute.]
[spam]
He moved forward and pulled Tim into a hug without really thinking about it, holding him tightly and just irrationally needing to reassure himself that Tim was fine. He was alive, it was just a dream. His throat felt tight again, and he swallowed thickly, still a little beyond caring about tackling his brother for a hug stupidly early in the morning in the hallway.]
Don't ever do that again. [His voice was choked, almost angry, but he didn't move away. Explanations could come in a minute.]