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    Before he knew it, Tim was on Jason's couch, shirtless, with toilet paper stuffed in both of his nostrils and holding an ice pack to his head.
    Jason finished shining a blinding pen light in his eyes and was probing the already forming bruise blooming purple over his ribs.
    "Why the hell were you undercover with no backup, dumbass?"
    "I wasn't—"
    "Keep your goddamn head tilted back, I swear to God if I have to say it again—"
    "—I wasn't undercover."
    Jason was pulling one of Tim's sneakers off and propping his foot up on the coffee table, checking the swelling in his ankle.
    "What the hell happened then? Who the fuck did this to you?"

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    09 Mar 2026