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awhitehead17 · 4 years ago

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My Best Friend’s Brother

Jason & Tim, TimKon, Robin!Jason, Stray!Tim, Alternate Universe, Flirting, Humour, Teasing, Blushing, Friendship.

Summary: Jason thinks they could work together, it would certainly be an interesting dynamic with the way Tim gets all flustered around Kon, especially considering his persona is one of the most flirtatious ones out there. Making a decision he starts making plans on how he’s going to deal the obvious two way attraction that Stray and Superboy clearly have. It’s not going to be easy, but he’s Robin, he can handle it!

A/N: This is an AU where Jason is Robin and Tim is Stray. All you probably need to know is that Jason is with Tim's Titan's team, (he hasn't died), also that Jason and Kon are best friends. This is crossing off 'Villainous Crush' from my Batfam bingo card.

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“I don’t think I can do that.” Robin says shaking his head as he stares at the security footage in front of him. “I mean I’m good, don’t get me wrong, but that is beyond my capabilities.”

“What do you propose then?” Wonder Girl questions him with a frown. “Who else is there that has the ability to bypass security as tight as Luthor’s undetected?”

Robin crosses his arms and gets thinking. The security they need to get pass is top level and the most advanced stuff Jason has ever seen. They’ve been able to hack into the cameras but that’s as far as they had manged, beyond that was just a dead end and none of them could do it.

What they need to do is access a hidden vault underneath Lexcorp because it’s storing away some crucial files full of delicate information. What that information is Jason wasn’t sure, however when Superman gave them the mission he made it quite clear that is was to be done asap.

One person soon comes into mind. This particular person could have the skill to get pass the security where they can’t, who would be able to sneak their way around everything without getting caught but was also skilful enough with technology that they could hack into the system if needs be.

He’d rather not ask them for help but really it’s the only option he can think of. With a sigh, Robin turns to Wonder Girl. “I know someone, so leave it to me. As much as I hate to admit it, they probably could get through the security and laugh about it at the end.”

She raises an eyebrow and demands, “Who?”

--------

“My, my little birdie, it’s been a long time! Did you miss me?”

Their voice comes out sounding rather distant from the phone’s speaker, almost like they were outside. Despite how quiet it sounded, there was no mistaking the teasing tone behind their words.

Jason sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mentally counting down from 5 before responding. “It has been a long time Stray. I hope you’ve been keeping out of trouble.”

“Of course I haven’t! Who do you take me for?” Stray says with a disbelieving snort, like he couldn’t believe Jason just asked that question.

The present Titans were all gathered around the kitchen table with Jason’s phone in the centre of it, currently on speaker to the costumed vigilante called Stray. Jason glances at his team mates to see most of them raising eyebrows at Stray’s words, Cassie’s face was stony cold, like she absolutely loathed this idea. Jason wasn’t a fan either, but it’s all they got.

Jason knows who Stray really is, but his team doesn’t. Stray was Gotham born and bred, they met on the rooftops and bonded (Jason may or may not have become protective of him during that time, not that he could help it). They’ve stayed in touch and occasionally help one another out when needs be, hopefully Stray will be willing to help Jason on this occasion.

Before he could say anything more, Stray’s voice was coming through the speakers again, this time louder like he has stopped and actually put his phone to his ear to talk into. “I’m guessing this isn’t a pleasure call Robin, which is a shame. What do you want?”

“I – we, the Titans – need your help with something if you’re willing. Are you available in the next day or so?”

“Hmmm, it depends. I may be free to help you, that is saying if I even want to help you, however I may not be. What is it?”

Jason rubs a hand across his head feeling frustrated. Stray really isn’t making this easy. “By passing security in Lexcorp to get to a vault. We won’t be able to do it without triggering the alarms, you on the other hand may be able to. If you agree then I’ll meet you and share the deets, if not then it’ll be until next time.”

There’s a moment of silence, as if Stray is thinking through his options. After a few beats his voice comes through the phone again, “If I do agree to help you, what’s in it for me? Jewels or money? Perhaps some of that nice fancy tech Luthor happens to have laying around all the time? A date with my favourite birdie?”

Jason ignores his friend’s wide-eyed looks and focuses only on the phone, “We can discuss that afterwards. Are you in: Yes or no?”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Stray agrees sounding sort of resigned, “message me where you want to meet and I’ll be there. See you soon birdie!”

Jason doesn’t bother with a good-bye, he simply reaches over to grab the phone and hangs up. Still ignoring his friends expressions he tells them, “I’ll arrange a meeting with Stray for this evening and make a plan from there. I’ll keep all of you updated as I go.”

After that he leaves the kitchen and ignores the questions being fired at his back in favour of retreating to his room. He really hopes it wasn’t a mistake contacting Stray.

It was early next morning when he meets with Stray. They meet down by the San Francisco docks away from any cameras, any prying eyes and in complete privacy.

Jason stands waiting around with the trained patience that’s been drilled into him from his early days as Robin. That’s the only reason on why he wasn’t fidgeting or pacing with restlessness, unlike his companion who’s decided to tag along with him.

To his side Superboy paces a few feet backwards and forwards with boredom, sometimes he walks it and sometimes he floats it. Jason wants to be annoyed at him for it, but it was rather amusing to watch.

When Jason announced his meeting time with Stray, Superboy insisted on coming, stating that someone else should tag along just in case something happens. Jason had wanted to protest but the Kryptonian looked determined to come and he couldn’t remember the last time he and Kon had actually been alone together. Considering they’re supposed to be best friends, they don’t actually hang out a lot.

Kon lets out a huff and comes to stand by his side. The half-Kryptonian crosses his arms and looks around impatiently. “Where is he? He’s supposed to be here by now right?”

Just for his own amusement, Jason doesn’t bother pointing out that Stray has actually been around for the last 10 minutes, simply hiding in the shadows watching them. He’s surprised that Kon didn’t pick Stray up with his enhanced powers.

“You should come over sometime man,” Jason says conversationally instead. “It’s been a while.”

Kon’s scowling expression turns into something softer at the mention of hanging out, he sends Jason a smile, “That’ll be good yeah. I’ll have to kidnap you at some point and take you to the farm, Ma’s been asking about ya.”

Jason shoots him a small smile. He likes the farm and always enjoys visiting the Kent’s, a weekend away doesn’t sound too bad actually.

Deciding he’s had enough, Jason turns to a shadowed covered alley nearby. “Alright Stray, enough is enough, come on out. We have business to deal with.”

He ignores Kon’s squawk of surprise in favour of watching Stray saunter towards them. The vigilante was dressed in his full gear which consisted of a tight dark grey leather suit (which could easily rival Dick’s Nightwing spandex) from the neck to his legs, flexible black boots and gloves, a small black belt tied around his waist with a whip hanging loosely from it, on his head were two cat ears and sliver googles with black lenses covering his eyes.

He has no idea how Stray wears the suit, it contours every muscle he has and seems like its going to rip if he stretches just that little bit too much. It never does and Stray wears it without an inch of discomfort.

Stray walks up to them, and Jason certainly doesn’t miss the way he eyes Kon up and down, until he’s a couple feet away. He smiles widely, showing his teeth. “Hello boys. How’s it going?”

Under his domino mask, Jason rolls his eyes, pointedly ignoring the almost flirtatious tone being used. Next to him Kon was staring wide eyed at Stray, barely moving a muscle.

In that moment he knows something was up, this here was the start of something. With the way Stray had his head tilted just to the side so he could look at Superboy (Jason couldn’t see his eyes but he’s known Stray long enough to know his tell-tales) and the way Kon was openly staring without a care in the world.

Jason very loudly, and obnoxiously, clears his throat to gain their attention. “Matters to attend to thank you very much. Important files we need to steal before they land into the wrong hands. Remember that?”

They both turn and blink at him but otherwise don’t say anything. Rolling his eyes Jason digs through his utility belt and brings out a small electronic tablet which he presents to Stray.

“This is the security we need you to break past.” Robin tells him. “There's a vault at the end, we haven’t yet worked out what kind it is but chances are that you’ll probably know how to break it anyway. What do you think?”

Handing Stray the tablet seems to snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into while staring at Superboy. He grabs the thing out of Robin’s hand and studies it. Jason patiently waits, knowing he’s studying the black and white security footage, going over what is visible to the eye before looking deeper and finding all the hidden secrets.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Stray declares handing the tablet back to him after a moment.

Jason raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? So you’ll do it?” He honestly hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

“Send me a copy of that footage and the details of the building, from there I should be able to get in and out. I can have the files you apparently need by sunset tomorrow, or today if you want to get technical.”

“What do you want for it?” Robin questions suspiciously. There’s always a catch somewhere.

There's a pauses as Stray looks Kon up and down once more before turning to him with a wicked smirk, “Keep it open as an IOU. Once I’ve decided I’ll let you know gorgeous.”

Without further words, Stray turns and disappears back into the shadows like he was never there in the first place. Jason takes a deep breath and shakes his head, that kid he swears…

The silence soon catches up to him and he shoots Kon a look. His best friend was still staring at the recently vacated spot. Jason waves a hand in front of his face. “Kon?”

Kon blinks and finally turns to him, as if coming back online. “That was Stray?”

“Yes, that was Stray. The annoying little brat I call my younger brother who I reluctantly asked for help because it boosts his ego like nothing else. Why, didn’t you know who he was?”

“Yeah, I, uh I-” Kon stutters for a moment as if looking for the right words. “I’ve heard of him but never seen him until now. That was him? How old is he? Is he even legal? Did you see those hips, jeeze… wait you said little brother, I didn’t know you had a younger brother!”

Putting the tablet back in his belt, Jason turns and starts walking away, heading back for the Tower since it was late. Kon rushes to meet his stride and together they walk.

“He’s a younger brother I never asked for, not by blood but in every other way that counts. We met on the streets in my early days as Robin, much to my annoyance I came to care for the little brat and here we are years later. We occasionally help one another out when needs be.”

Kon gapes at him for a moment before spluttering out a question. “What’s with the leather? I mean I get you bats and your spandex but leather? There’s no way that’s comfy, and with how much it shows…”

Jason scowls at his friend, feeling a little protective. “Don’t perve on Stray -”

“I’m not perving!”

“- he just likes to flirt. He gets kicks out of everyone around him being a blushing mess.”

What Jason doesn’t mention is that Stray is only that confident in the suit. Outside of being Stray, the kid behind the persona is nothing but shy, sweet and innocent (if a little annoying).

Kon seems to have nothing else to say after that, if he does he keeps any other thoughts to himself so the rest of the journey back to the Tower was quiet and uneventful.

The next day a small box parcel appears on the Tower’s doorstep. After scanning it and triple checking that it wasn’t any kind of bomb, they open it up to find the files they had been after from underneath Lexcorp. All that there was in the box beside the files, was a sticky note with a handwritten message on it saying: Remember birdie, IOU, I’ll let you know what I want gorgeous.

Upon reading that Jason sighs and shakes his head. He mentally curses out Stray for putting him in the awkward position of explaining to his team that no he and Stray were not in any kind of relationship and how Stray just likes to flirt with everyone.

Jason quickly explains why they’ve never met the vigilante before, that reason being because Stray was also a thief and can be unpredictable at times. Despite Jason’s brotherly relationship with the brat it’s still a risk to work with him, he never wanted to get Stray involved with the Titan’s from the beginning.

After some more questioning his teammates seem to eventually accept the explanation and leave the matter be. However, Kon wouldn’t let it go, he kept pestering Jason for more information. Did Jason know who he really was? What was his age? Why was he a thief? Would he want to join the Titan’s anyway? Was he single?

Jason glared at his friend for that question and refused to tell him anything.

--------

It turns out it wasn’t too long until Kon ended up meeting Stray again. A couple weeks after the Lexcorp mission, Kon decided to stop by Gotham to hang out with Jason only for them to come across a battered, bruised and bleeding vigilante later on.

Jason was on patrol when Kon found him, and not having the heart to tell his best friend to go away (who cares about Bruce’s no meta’s rule anyway?) he let Kon tag along for the rest of the night. Once they were finished the plan was to go back to the Manor to chill with some video games and some of Alfred’s delicious snacks.

It had been going well as they had stopped several muggings, a few drug deals, a couple of lurking johns and even a small gang war. It wasn’t until they were about to head home when their plans suddenly changed.

From where they had been in an alleyway, sudden gunshots could be heard from nearby. Not wasting a second, Kon lifts up off the ground, grabs Jason’s outstretched hand and flies them over the building into the alley on the other side.

They get their just in time to see a body fall backwards onto the ground and someone making a run for it at the entrance of the alley. Without even speaking, Jason instantly rushes over towards the fallen body while Kon goes after the runner.

To Jason’s surprise its Stray he finds lying there on the ground groaning with his hand pressed tightly against his shoulder.

Diving into his utility belt for medical resources, Jason hisses. “What the hell did you get yourself into Stray? You idiot.”

His voice seems to get Stray’s attention. The kid gives him a pained smile, “Just y’know, an average night. Fuck.” After a moment he seems to remember something because he’s bolting up into a sitting position and looking around frantically. “Where is he!”

Jason pushes Stray back down and keeps him still with a hand on his chest. Ignoring the weak struggles and protests, Jason examines what he can of Stray’s wound. He could see that the bullet is still in his shoulder but he can’t say if it’s hit anything vital. They’ll have to get him back to the cave for scans and proper treatment. In the meantime, Jason slaps a bandage over the wound and keeps pressure on it.

“Robin to the cave, anyone there?” He says into his comm.

While he waits for a response Superboy appears with an unconscious body in his hands, that being the man who had made a run for it moments ago.

“This is Agent A, Robin. How can I assist you?”

“I’m with Stray, he’s just taken a bullet to the shoulder and it’s still in there. I’m bringing him back to the cave, can you get the medical bay ready? ETA 10 minutes.”

After getting off the comms he turns to Superboy who’s body posture was awkward but his eyes were trained on Stray’s limp body. “Superboy.”

It takes a moment but Kon seems to snap out of the trance. “Huh? Sorry. The police are on their way, what shall I do with…” he gestures to the unconscious man still in his grasp.

Jason huffs as he quickly digs out a pair of handcuff from his belts and tosses them to Kon. “Tie him to the lamp post. I need your help with Stray.”

Kon does just that and reappears at his side seconds later. “We’re taking him to the cave, I want you to carry him there and keep pressure on that wound. The bullet’s still in there. Agent A will be there waiting for you.”

“I don’t wanna go to the cave… I’m fine….” Stray mutters from his position on the ground. His words are beginning to slur and his movements are sloppy.

Kon hesitates. “What about Batman?”

Jason waves his concern off. “Don’t worry, I can deal with him. Now go before anything else happens. I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

Jason makes it to the cave a lot later than what he would have liked. He had to wait around for the police, explain to them what had happened before he could finally start making his way home.

By the time he got the cave, Stray was already trying to leave and was arguing with Alfred about his condition, while Kon was standing to the side looking awkward and unsure on what to do. Stray was currently only dressed in the bottom half of his suit, leaving his torso and bandaged shoulder for everyone to see. Much to Jason’s surprise, he didn’t even have his ears or goggles on which helped conceal his identity.

As Jason walks from the garage to the medical bay, he observes the scene. It was rather amusing to watch the younger boy try to argue to Alfred why he’s fine and doesn’t have to stay the night to be observed and how he’s continued on with much worse. Stray is fighting a losing battle and they all know it.

Kon, on the other hand, was rather interesting to observe. The meta was standing in the medical bay but to the side, watching the scene before him with wide eyes. While the Kryptonian seemed to be in shock, Jason could also see how Kon’s eyes run over Stray’s body, the way they linger at his chest before moving up to stare at his identifiable face.

Jason is pretty sure Kon doesn’t know who Stray really is. He has made it clear that he’s attracted to Stray and is curious enough to want to know more about the thief but beyond that he’s never done anything about it. On the other side of the coin, he knows Stray is eyeing up Kon in a similar fashion. Behind the flirtiness, he’s a shy boy who wants to get to know Superboy more and secretly gets flustered at the thought of the meta.

Perhaps Jason needs to introduce them on a more solid and neutral ground? Stray is like a brother to Jason and Kon is his best friend, would they even work? Does he want to start something like that between them, or simply help them get their shit together so he doesn’t have to be stuck in the middle anymore?

He’ll have to have a think about it.

“You are staying the night and that is final!” Alfred declares firmly to Stray who was now pouting from his position on the medical bed.

Jason snorts as he enters the room and goes to Stray’s side. Poking the younger boy in the ribs, he says, “Look, it’s just for one night. We can hang out, have a good catch up while we play crappy video games and sleep until noon tomorrow. Then you can go.”

The glare he receives makes Jason cackle. Once he’s calmed down he glances at Alfred, “Thanks for patching him up Al!”

Alfred merely smiles and starts bustling about to get everything cleaned up. He turns to Stray next, pointing a finger at him, “I’ll see you upstairs in a moment. I’m just going to walk Superboy out of here.”

He turns to Kon to find his friend still staring at Stray. Rolling his eyes, Jason clicks his fingers in the meta’s face and grabs his attention. He cocks his head to the side and starts leaving the medical bay, “Let’s go lover boy!”

Kon stutters for a moment before rushing to catch up and he grins when he sees Kon’s flushed face. Jason walks with Kon to the end of the cave, thanking him for his help that night but also apologising that their plans to hang out weren’t happening. He does a rain check for when he’s next at the Tower and promises that they’ll spend time together while he’s there. Looking a little sullen, Kon nods his understanding but doesn’t push the matter. He takes off up in the air and quickly disappears into the night sky.

As he heads back, Jason starts making mental plans on how he’s going to deal the obvious two way attraction that Stray and Superboy clearly have. It’s not going to be easy, but he’s Robin, he can handle it!

--------------

“So what was it that you needed to do again?” Kon questions him as they climb a fourth set of stairs.

Jason glances over his shoulder from where he was ahead of Kon, guiding them through the apartment building they were currently in. “I got a message late last night from a friend, asking me to pick something up from his place. Figured I’d stop by while out with you since we were passing through the neighbourhood.”

“Makes sense.” Kon comments a moment later.

They don’t talk again until they were standing outside an old wooden, beaten door after climbing six flights of stairs. Jason knocks on the door and patiently waits for the occupant to open it up.

“This friend of yours,” Kon drawls looking at him, “are you guys close?”

Does he know about your night activities? Jason picks up the double meaning of the question. He smiles at Kon and says, “We’re actually really close, yeah. But sorry about this, it shouldn’t take too long.”

He doesn’t mention to Kon that in fact this was all planned by him. The message to come and collect something from his friend was planned, because Jason in fact purposely left said item here the other night just so he would get the message. Meeting up with Kon and having him come along just out of ‘coincidence’ was all part of it too.

A sound coming from the door opposite them gains their attention. They both turn to it as they hear locks clicking and a chain being rattled. Soon enough it opens up to reveal a small teenager dressed in an oversized hoddie and leggings.

“Hey Tim, how’s it going?” Jason asks with more enthusiasm than necessary.

It was like he was watching it all in slow motion, that moment when the kid opposite him realises exactly what Jason has done. His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open at the realisation of it before his expression becomes dark where his eyebrows drop, his eyes glaring daggers at Jason and his lips pressed into a tight thin line.

While Tim glares at him, and is probably imagining the most painful way he could kill Jason, Jason turns to Kon just in time to see his best friend also click onto what he’s done. Kon’s expression goes to one of shock as his eyes flicker between Tim and Jason.

“Wait, you’re uh, you’re-”

Kon doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying because Tim was suddenly hissing at Jason. “You asshole Jason!”

Tim backs away from the door and promptly goes to slam it shut and it’s only thanks to his quick reactions that Jason catches the door before it hits the doorframe. He barges his way into the apartment and turns to Tim grinning at him. Tim wasn’t paying attention however, the kid was now glaring at Kon who stared back and slowly inched his way into the apartment. Despite Kon being invulnerable and one of the most powerful people on the planet, he seemed rather intimated by Tim.

Once they were both indoors, Tim then slams the door shut with a loud bang. Crossing his arms over his chest he turns to Jason with a scowl. “What is the meaning of this? You of all people know how important identities are!”

Jason hums and starts wondering around the small apartment. He leaves the hallway they had been in and adventures into the joint living room and kitchen area. It was there on the coffee table that he sees the files he purposely left behind the other night.

Tim marches in behind him with Kon following soon after. “What the hell are Selina or Bruce going to say about this?”

That makes Jason blink and pause. He hadn’t thought about that. Oops. He shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s fine. I can work around them.”

“How? How are you going to get around one of the best thief’s and the world’s greatest detective?”

Jason doesn’t answer, mostly because he doesn’t actually know. Thankfully he’s saved from any more scolding from Tim because his best friend speaks up.

“So your name is Tim?” Kon suddenly asks from his spot by a sofa. The meta still had this wide-eyed look on him, like he really couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Yes.” Tim snaps at him. “You better not tell anybody either!”

Jason forces the smirk off his face as he sees the kid blush red. He knows this is about to get interesting and is more than happy to watch how this plays out between them.

“Really though? Tim? Tim is Stray, the cat thief who likes to wear skin-tight leather while on the job and oversized jumpers in his downtime.”

Tim’s glare hardens and it looks like he wants to deck Kon there and then.

“Just because you’re invulnerable doesn’t mean that I still can’t hurt you!” Tim threatens Kon, with a pointed finger to emphasise his point.

For someone who had been intimated by the person now threatening him, Kon now looks completely unperturbed. It was like learning his name was ‘Tim’ made him less terrifying. “Uh huh…” Kon hums looking at Tim with a raised eyebrow.

Tim enters Kon’s space and pokes him in the chest to make a point. “I will throttle you.”

“And I bet you’ll like that, wouldn’t you?” Kon grins, winking at Tim.

Jason couldn’t help but snort at Tim’s face. If his shocked expression in the hallway was golden, his shocked expression now was totally palatium. It’s like Kon flirting with him has made Tim freeze and buffer, like he doesn’t know how to handle it or what he should do next.

Tim was speechless and Jason laughs at the sight. However he does wonder where Kon suddenly found the confidence to flirt with Tim, especially since he seemed so unsure at the start. He knows Kon’s had his time with beach babes in Hawaii, but this is slightly different.

After several beats it seems like Tim finally comes back online because he’s suddenly shouting, “Get out, now. That’s it! Get out, the both of you!”

Jason was still laughing, even more so because Tim is now as bright as a tomato. “What, don’t like the tables being turned Timmy? Receiving the flirting and not giving it for a change?”

He didn’t even see Tim move, so when the kid is suddenly in his space and shoving his files into his hands, Jason stumbles backwards a couple steps to keep his balance. Seconds later hands start shoving him out towards the hallway and towards the front door.

“Get out!”

“Okay, okay,” Jason resigns. He’s had his fun and embarrassed Tim enough for one day. He walks out of the apartment and into the corridor of the building, seconds later Kon joins him. When the door slams shut behind Kon, they share a look and burst out laughing.

They don’t talk as they exit the building, both of them giggling right up until they’re out on the street and back out in public.

Kon takes a breath to control himself and shoots Jason a sideward glance as they walk down the street. “Dude, what was that all about?”

There were so many hidden questions within that one question. Jason picks them all up easily. Why did you blow his secret ID? Why did you take me there? What are you up to? He doesn’t answer any of them. Instead he snorts in disbelief and waves a hand around. “Oh please, I’ve done you both a favour.”

From there he refuses to answer any of Kon’s queries on what just happened. Things were building up between the two of them, Jason’s simply helping to jump start things along. After seeing them in there earlier, he thinks they could work, it would certainly be an interesting dynamic with the way Tim gets all flustered around Kon, especially considering his persona is one of the most flirtatious ones out there.

He’s got his own questions he wants to ask Kon, like where did that confidence suddenly come from? What happened to being intimidated by Tim? Before he starts grilling his best friend however, he figures he’d give Kon some time to mull over what happened today and then he’d pin him down to get some answers.

--------

Jason was done for the day. All he wanted to do in that moment was go to his room, have a long hot shower before changing into some comfy clothes and climbing into bed to sleep for the next three days.

But no, he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t allowed to do that because he had to go and find Kon, who was in the Tower somewhere, and get his report he failed to hand in after the latest mission. Cassie was getting on his back about Kon’s tardiness and it was getting on his nerves. Jason wants to argue that he’s not Kon’s babysitter! Why should it be him who has to chase the half-Kryptonian for reports he’s responsible for?

Either way he’s on his way to Kon’s room in the Tower, figuring that if Kon wasn’t in the kitchen (he wasn’t) then he would most likely be in his bedroom. When Jason reaches the right door, he taps his knuckles against it and lets himself in, he only happens to walk two steps in before he’s freezing on the spot because of what he’s seeing.

There on Kon’s bed were two figures in what seems to be an intimate position. Jason could see Kon on his back on the mattress (thank god he was fully clothed!) with his head propped up by some pillows. Above him with his legs on either side of Kon’s hips, was a familiar smaller figure dressed up in tight leather.

The two of them were currently playing tonsil hockey as hands roamed each other’s bodies. It wasn’t until a low moan comes from one of them that Jason comes back to himself and actually registers what he was seeing.

“What the fuck!”

The two figures startle at his outburst and split apart. Tim sits fully upright and looks his way while Kon blinks owlishly at him from his position on the bed. All three of them stare at one another for several long beats, waiting for someone to break the heavy silence.

In the end it was Jason, repeating his outburst. “What the fuck!”

“Oh hey birdie. Enjoying the show?” Tim smirks at him. He didn’t have his ears or goggles on meaning Jason could see his face. Meaning Jason could see how amusing this all was to him.

Kon on the other hand seemed to be on the other end of the scale. He brings his hands up to cover his face with embarrassment and groans. “This is not how I wanted you to find out!”

“Find out what?” Jason scoffs disbelievingly. “That you and Tim are finally boning?”

“Well technically we haven’t gotten that far, yet.” Tim drawls out, stroking a teasing finger along Kon’s chest.

“Right.” Jason says. Deciding that he’s seen enough, he starts to turn around so he could leave. “Well have fun, use protection and Kon, Cassie wants that report done asap.”

Just as he was about to shut the door, Tim speaks up and Jason shoots him an unimpressed look for making him stay longer than what was necessary. “Why are you acting like that? You wanted to get us together to begin with anyway. Did you want to join in?”

Jason blinks and takes a moment to comprehend what he’s just been asked. “No! What the fuck? That's my best friend there and you’re like my brother you flirtatious asshole! And yes I was trying to set you two up but that doesn’t mean I want to see it!”

Before anything else could happen Jason makes a quick exit. Unfortunately he still wasn’t quick enough because he hears Tim shout “You know where we are if you change your mind!” just before he shuts the door.

He shakes off what he just heard and tries to erase those images from his mind. He blames Cassie. If she didn’t want that stupid report then he would have never walked into Kon’s room and seen that. It could have been worse where they were naked but that’s not the point!

Well, he knew something was going to happen between the two of them and now they’ve finally gotten their shit together. Once Jason’s done getting over it, he’ll interrogate Kon all about it later on. They’re best friends, he deserves to know all the nitty gritty details and how dare he leave Jason in the dark.

Stray on the other hand wouldn’t actually tell him anything, either because of embarrassment or out of spite, it would depend on what mood he was in on the day.

It looks like he’ll be having quite interesting conversations with two people very soon.

#Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Kon-El #timkon #robin!jason #stray!tim #alternate universe #flirting #blushing #friendship #teasing #humour #fanfiction #batfam bingo 2019 #villainous crush #kinda #injury #innuendo

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years ago

Text

Love like poison

Soo... I did that, huh. I have no excuses, I was sad, so now you’re all sad with me.

Warnings: angst. Hurt. Hospitals. Puking. Blood.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He can’t breath.

He had always been scarily good at deception, Dick thinks blandly. His heart is screaming, and crying, and being torned apart, but his mind is strangely steady. A calm voice, sounding all too much like Bruce when he just became his ward and was hounded by panic attack after panic attack, reminded him of his- their options.

But it was hard, to listen to that part of himself. Hard to remember they still had time, Tim wasn’t dead yet, they still could…

Tim coughed again, and a waterfall of belladonnas, nightshades and clematis spilled into the ground.

(Danger, artifice and death. Whoever it was Tim loved, they couldn’t be worth this pain, if those were the flowers they filled him with)

Fully bloomed and bloodstained. This wasn’t a new disease; it had been left to fester inside the young man for too long, and now…

Now Tim couldn't breath.

Everything else took a backseat as he rushed towards him, falling into his knees by his side in the Cave’s cold floor, screaming for Alfred, Bruce… for help.

-.-.-.-.-.-

He had been forced into bed rest. No one would budge, no matter how much he complained.

Then-

-I’ve been going out with Hanahaki for as long as I’ve been a vigilante; this is nothing.

Alfred had to leave the room. Bruce’s face had spasmed and closed, emotions tightly locked inside. Jason punched a hole through the wall and stormed off after the butler.

Damian had clutched Dick’s hand as he watched his intubated brother. It’d be forever their secret, how the youngest boy’s hands had trembled.

Tim just coughed again, and fell asleep clutching a bouquet of foxgloves and dogbane. Tucked in by insincerity and deception.

Dick could only cry the night away.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-I refuse.

Those two words stop the word in its axis. Hearts refuse to beat, birds quieten their singing, and it seems the wind itself stops howling, breath held in wait of the punchline. Of the explanation. Of the apology.

Tim offers none. Just looks outside the window and repeats his decision once the doctor enters to check the reason for Jason’s yelling.

Their begs go ignored. Their anger, scoffed at. Their cries produce little more than a sigh.

Tim asks the nurse for a bucket and pukes a river of deathly flowers, seams and all. She pats his back in comfort and looks at them with pity in her eyes, because Tim is no longer a minor, they can’t force his hand, and the staff are under oath to respect the patient's wishes.

Hyacinths. Please forgive me.

I can’t forgive a corpse, he wants to say. He can’t- it wouldn’t be heard over Jason’s screams, or his own sobs.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Tim signs the documents Lucius hands him with trembling hands. Dick has to steady him and hold his body upright, and press a handkerchief to his pale lips when he can’t keep the coughs inside any longer and spills fully bloomed oleander on the fabric. He’s careful that no drop of blood falls in the papers.

Distrust. He’s worried about the future of Wayne Enterprises, now that he’d no longer be at the helm.

Dick wants to shake him, shake him until he coughs out all the flowers, all the love, all the death. Until his lungs are free and his head is set straight. Until his cheeks flush again, his eyes get their shine back, and he’s warm and living once more.

Wants to shake him as if he could spit his little brother out, along with the plants and blood. The little brother he basically raised, protected, mentored, loved. The one he’s about to lose.

He doesn’t. Wonders when, exactly, did he stop fighting for him.

And when did Tim stop fighting for himself?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cass and Steph had arrived two weeks after Tim’s hospitalization. They'd been deep undercover, and Bruce’s emergency call hadn’t reached them until just then.

When they stormed into Tim’s private rooms, the Wayne family felt a shadow of hope blossoming in their hearts. Was it Steph? They had been together a while ago, maybe Tim’s feelings had remained and he thought hers were gone. Maybe they weren’t, and they could…

Tim’s face didn’t turn wistful, but guilty.

Cass’s hand took his, and Stephanie’s fingers combed his hair away from his forehead. She retrieved a petal from within the locks; hydrangea. Thank you for understanding.

They knew?

The betrayal stung, but Dick forced himself into calmness before analyzing them better. Cass was the one who looked regretful but resigned. Stephanie, while carefully silent, was still despairing enough that he knew this was news for her as well. Maybe her partner had put her up to speed during their trip here?

And his sister… Tim had backed her up from the beginning, when both he and Batman distrusted her past. He had stood up for her and she had always been careful to repay him in kind. There was no point in getting mad at her now.

Dick just hoped their bond would be enough for her to convince him to take the damned operation now.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Conner Kent arrives one afternoon, grim faced but unsurprised. Dick suspects he’s known for a long time now, and hates him a little for not telling them. Not doing anything before Tim started choking on dangerously full bloomed plants.

Bruce must have been beyond himself with helplessness, if he called him. Dick’s own despair is the only reason he doesn’t punch him in his invulnerable jaw.

They left the room (some of them for the first time in days) when Conner asks, because they are just that desperate.

Tim and Conner talk around the issue, never saying any name, because they aren’t dumb enough to ignore the possibility of microphones and cameras.

They speak for hours. Kon reminds him of the time he has left (not a lot, dude). Tim replies he’s not ready (for what?). He pukes a beautiful, complete wisteria (I cling to thee). Conner takes it with shaking hands and puts it behind Tim’s ear, the purple contrasting with his dark hair and almost bringing life back to his deathly pale face. He nods, says he understands. Dick doesn’t.

The meta says they all miss him, at the tower. They want him back as soon as possible (they are not the only ones), so he better hurry up and get better. Tim pats his hand, whispers something they can’t hear, and then they hug for long minutes, maybe an hour (Dick’s perception of time is meassured by coughs and breaths, these days), until Tim chokes on air and pukes sweetpeas (Departure, remember me, good-bye, tender memory, thank you for a lovely time).

Conner cries a little when he leaves the room. Tim is again looking at his window. All signs of the happiness his friend brought with him, gone again, washed away like his petals on the wind.

Dick goes after him and wants to scream and insult and hit him.

‘Talk him out of this!’

‘He needs the surgery!’

‘What are you good for, if you don’t convince him to fight for himself?’

‘Your best friend is dying and you’re doing nothing!’

‘Do you even love him? At all?!’

He ends up falling into his chest and crying, instead.

‘My little brother is dying, and I can’t do anything about it’

Conner doesn’t hug him back. Doesn’t even look at him when he dislodges Dick’s arms from his middle and turns away, leaving the hospital and any hope the Wayne family had of saving Tim behind.

There was scorn in his gaze, but he doesn’t need the meta to voice his thoughts, for him to get the message. Unneeded, besides; he already blames himself enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

-What are you doing?

For a few minutes, Dick thinks the words escape his own mouth. The question had been bouncing around in his head, but unvoiced; doubting Tim would even answer. He only ever spoke when Alfred or one of his friends came.

But no, it was Damian who asked, and Dick saw the bedridden boy parting his dry, bloodstained lips to answer.

-Thinking.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jason sitting straight in the couch he had claimed for himself a a few day prior. The four of them were alone at the time, and Dick felt a weak throb of hope at the idea that maybe without their Father, Tim would be willing to answer.

-About what? -asked Jay this time, voice rough for all the shouting he’d been doing lately. He was more mellow, today; tired of fighting against Tim’s imperturbable facade.

-About who. The one who planted these seeds in my lungs. Just… reminescenting.

-What the... ? Stop! -Dick’s voice broke- You know it makes the Hanahaki worse! You are just watering those, those… weeds! You are not even ignoring the precipice, you are speeding towards it!

Tim’s face never turned from the window. His hands fiddled with some nerium oleander flowers, a far away look in his eyes.

Distrust. Beware. Caution. What was Tim scared of, that was worse than death?

-I’m almost done, anyway -he sighed, letting the violet and bloody red petals fall to the bed. The white sheets and colorful flower made a sick disparity.

Dick wanted to scream- What? Your life?

Jason and Damian flinched at his words. Tim smiled without humor.

-My resistance.

He sighed again, and didn’t speak for a long while. His eyes left the window to look at Dick, and they stayed like that for what seemed like hours, eyes locked, Tim’s unreadable icy blues against Dick’s sky ones.

When he finally did, it was to ask for a doctor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

They were kicked out of the room. All of them, even Bruce. No matter how much money he offered, or how he reminded the hospital staff of their debt to his family; apparently, Tim had chosen the most morally upright doctors in the whole city to treat him. That, or he’d threaten them worse than even the Batman could.

Both are equally plausible, coming from his scheming, cunning little brother.

Dick can’t breath, is holding all his air and emotions tight in his chest from the moment they are given the boot until a nurse approaches, face a blank mask but eyes betraying her relief.

Tim had agreed to the surgery.

He would live.

Dick is more focused on the colchicum she’s twisting in her hands.

My best days fled.

For a moment, he’s not sure who was the intended recipient of the message. Nor why his throat hurts so bad.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

There was going to be a long recovery time, they are told. Tim’s flowers were left free to fester and grow and twist inside of him for too long. A lot of tissue had to be removed along with the roots, the stems had scratched along his esophagus and…

And there was something else. Something the doctor refrained from telling them. Something that turned Tim’s smile empty when they visited him after the procedure, lying still in the too big bed. Had made his voice devoid of any feeling as he told them he’d be having his rehabilitation in San Francisco’s General Hospital. He had a house there, he informed them, and his own company, that he apparently had been preparing for a long time now. He wouldn’t be opposed to future contracts with WE, but now was time for him to spread out his wings and fly. The Titans would look over him during his recovery, after all, and Gotham was no place for a bedridden vigilante anyway.

Dick felt cold all over.

A bouquet in Tim’s hands, gift from his friends, told them what they needed to know about his decision.

Lantana. Unyielding.

Pasque flower. You have no claim.

Azalea. Take care of yourself for me.

The operation should have gotten rid of Tim’ feelings towards the one he loved. Why was he leaving the entire family behind, instead?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Alfred wasn’t there when Tim was discharged. He had decided to go back to the mannor first, with both Cassandra and Stephanie, to ready everything for the family’s return. For those who were coming back, at least. Tim had said goodbye to him in private, Dick thinks. He doesn’t understand.

Bruce goes next, and he leaves the room shortly after, confusion as clear in his face as when he went in.

Jason and Damian entered together, neither trusting the other with their bedridden, weakened brother. Dick thinks, if there was something positive to take out of Tim’s suffering, was the cementing of his bond with both his predecessor and successor. They left with twin paper slips and a direction scratched on them. An invitation for the future.

As requested, Dick was the last one. He had to stop at the threshold and just relish in the image his brother gave. Healthier than he had been in weeks (maybe months, even), rosy cheeks, no sign of shadows under his eyes, easy smile stretching lazy lips. Hair a mess, but when wasn’t it? Still underweight, the days leading to the surgery, specially hard on his body, had prevented him from eating much of anything, but that was nothing a lot of care wouldn't solve. Care that would be provided by his friends, apparently.

His heart throbs.

They hadn’t been alone in a room together in quite a long time. When Tim succumbed to Hanahaki and collapsed in the Cave, maybe? And before that? At least a year and a half, maybe two, before he gave Robin to Damian.

Tim is lounging by the window, travel backpack at his feet. Conner would be picking him up from the hospital’s rooftop any minute now, and the rest of their team had already went to the mannor for the rest of his luggage.

One last goodbye, and Tim would be gone.

(Better in San Francisco than dead, he thinks)

-Why? -he asks, unable to stop himself. The question had burned at his throat for too long now, and he wanted to cough to get rid of the feeling. He refrained; weary of anything that could delay his answers.

Tim, so tight lipped he had been lately on the subject, let his smile stretch an inch wider.

-I’ve been in love with you for as long as memory serves, Dick.

Easy, voice almost breezy. As if had not completely turned Dick’s world over.

Unperturbed by Dick’s gasp and his sudden need to grasp the wall for support, Tim continued.

-My feelings for the rest of the family were built over that, and now that they are gone… well. I still care for them, the small part of me that wasn’t consumed by love grew to like them besides what I felt for you, but the feeling is… a lot smaller than it was before.

A small shrug, he looked at his wristwatch and bent to pick his backpack up. Apparently they were running out of time for their goodbye.

Dick had believed Tim had saved him for last because there were many things he needed to tell him. Turns out that he just didn’t care enough. Didn’t care anymore.

-You know how it is, when you stack everything over one little, unstable piece of yourself? When it collapses, it takes everything away. My life as a vigilante was spurred from meeting you so long ago. I came to be Bruce’s partner and later his son because of you. I made up with Jason and Damian because you edged us on. I guess Alfie, Cass and Steph are the most detached from that, so I’m cool with them now as well. The rest… I’ll guess we’ll see, from now on, how it goes. Fresh starts and all that.

He approaches Dick, still smiling. Dick has to force himself not to shiver. There’s nothing scary in Tim’s eyes, nothing dark; just lightness and calmness.

He’d never noticed, how charged those eyes were when they looked at him. Now, they barely held anything.

And that by itself was terrifying.

-I still care about you, don’t make that face -he laughs, but it’s… it’s not the laugh he’s used to. Not the one that screams so many feelings. Not the one that always made him felt like he was on top of the world just from earning it-. You are part of the Waynes. We’ll see each other soon enough, and I’m sure we’ll be able to built a new relationship that’s not linked with my hopeless love. It’ll probably take time, I’m bound to be very busy with my new company and my team, but hey, we’re young, there’s time.

Dick feels sick. His chest is so tight, he can’t breath.

-Don’t look so grim -Tim whispers, a hand careful on Dick’s shoulders-. You were right, the operation was for the best. I was just… desperate and lost, you know? I felt that way for so long, I didn’t knew how to be anything else than in love with you. Wasn’t sure how much of me would remain after getting rid of that part. Apparently -he waves at himself- enough.

Another step, Tim was just by his side, still touching him but now closer. Another step, and he’d be out of the room.

-After everything went wrong between us… the flowers I used to have were prettier. Both in meaning and… well. Do you know what belladonnas, nightshades, clematis and every other flower I coughed had in common?

He shakes his head. Isn’t sure if Tim can see it over how hard he’s shaking.

-They are all poisonous. That’s what my love for you was in the end, Dick. It was poison, and it was killing me inside faster than even the Hanahaki, but I still nurtured it. Them. Those flowers were killing me, and I still cared for them, watered them with my tears and memories. I know, it was silly, but… Well, you know how people say ‘pick your poison’? I picked you. I hanged on until I couldn't anymore. Letting the flowers go was the hardest choice I ever made -he laughs, a little incredulous- and now that they are gone, I can’t even understand why. I guess only those in love can.

He’s still smiling when he lets go of Dick’s shoulder and steps out into the hallway.

-Bye, Dick. See you soon, okay? Take care.

Dick stays there, frozen in the door, for a long time. Thinking of Tim, of the years spent together, the pain and the happiness they shared.

He remembers the kid he was, bright eyed. Always following him around when he had the chance, hanging out to Dick’s every word. Always kind, good beyond belief. Too much, for the life they lead. Too bright for all the darkness surrounding the Bat.

Until everything started crumbling. Until the weight of duty drove Dick into distrust. Into choosing. Into abandoning.

Until all those sweet memories turned into even sweeter poison.

The happy but naive kid, turned ruthless but righteous teen, turned dangerous and kind hearted young man. The kind of man who receives a vial of toxics from a loved one, and still drinks it with a smile. Still fights to do good. Still tries to keep his feelings, as hurtful as they turned to be, close to his heart.

He was heartbreakingly beautiful in his sadness when he decided to let go, and now in the lightheadedness of finally being able to breath.

Dick falls to his knees. Emotions too deep, too complicated, swim around his head.

He feels like he lost something invaluable. He’s not sure what: Tim is still there, alive and happy. And they’d have to rebuild their bridges, but that was possible as long as he was there.

So why…?

All comes crashing around him, and he allows himself to cough, trying to get the heaviness off his airways. To breath again, after Tim took all the air with him when he left.

He coughs, and coughs and coughs.

Ranunculus petals come out. I’m dazzled by your charms.

He coughs, heaves and pukes. Crawls into the room and closes the door behind him. No one can see.

Lilies of the valley, fully bloomed. Sweetness. Happiness through the ages. You’ve made my life complete.

Gasping for air, he drags himself to the nearest wall, back resting against it as he hides his face in knees drawn up against his chest.

A hemlock, bloodstained. You will cause my death.

A shadow passes by the window. It’s dark and blue and a little red; Superboy, taking Tim to San Francisco and away from him. From the man who almost killed him.

He cries in between coughs, as the garden of lost chances, poisonous flowers and blood grow around him. It’s grimly beautiful; no wonder Tim was hesitant of getting rid of it.

He can’t breath.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

#My writing #Tim Drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #kon el kent #jason todd #damian wayne #batfamily #Batfamily Fanfic #hanahaki disease au #hanahaki au #tw: angst #Alfred Pennyworth #Cassandra Cain Wayne #Stephanie Brown #one sided love #DickTim

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demiwonder-a · 4 years ago

Text

how do you fly with no wings? // young justice

WHO: Cassie Sandsmark, Bart Allen, Conner Kent, Tim Drake.

WORD COUNT: 4939 words.

LOCATION: New York City.

GENERAL NOTES: Young Justice is back, baby! Well, they thought they were back. A mission goes awry and Cassie falls and falls hard.

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, guns, mentions of drugs/drug trade, mentions of past injuries.

CASSIE: There was something in the air that Cassie felt settle deep into her bones, none of it good. Her mind whirled with possibilities of what it could possibly mean. The team was back together, officially. It couldn't be them. This was good, right? It had to be good. It felt like there was some dark cloud hanging over her head despite the joy she felt at being back together with her friends once more.

The mission was easy enough. It was supposed to be, at least. Intervening in a drug trade that was to go down between two of the traffickers they had been following. Something for them to ease back into working together once more. Cassie was situated on the top of the building across from the meeting place, ready to spring into action as soon as Tim gave the go ahead. "In position. Is everyone else ready?"

KON: The super's eye peeked open at the sounds of his girlfriend's voice in his ear. He had been lounging atop the building where the meet up was supposed to occur for what felt like hours, just waiting to be given the go ahead to crash through the roof with only a pack of gum to entertain him.

Phones could be tracked, according to Tim. That and he hadn't wanted a ringtone to go off in the middle of an interrogation, which, in Kon's defense, had only happened once so the fact that their fearless leader was still harping on felt a bit unnecessary to begin with.

Either way, he popped another piece of gum in his mouth, humming at the sweet taste of juicy fruit as he pushed his sunglasses further up his nose. "Born ready, babe. I've been stuck up here for forever!" He complained, flicking his ball of foil into the air and turning into sprinkling ash with a quick flash of red, "Tim's the one taking forever, right Bart?" He snickered as he turned the volume down on his com. He'd know when it was time, and even if he didn't, it was always cooler to make a late entrance anyway. It added pizzazz to these things.

TIM + BART: "Cut the Bat-Brat some slack, Slug," The speedster's chipper voice sounded over the link, following gusts of wind and quick electric snaps. Tim had to smile. It felt so familiar, something old that resurfaced after a good dusty coat had been brushed off, still a bit rough in practice and use, but... These guys had been running their hero gig almost longer than Tim had, in the team sense at least. When Tim had left Young Justice to Cassie, it was to distance himself, to protect them from the possible consequences of his presence causing their utter demise. It was still a prevalent memory, the mass of them to be truly honest, amassing in a visceral fear that made his stomach turn every time he thought about it. Kon, Bart, gone and back within the same... No. They're here. You're all here, you're all getting back into the swing of things. Just keep it cool, keep everyone else in line like you were trained to do. You're a Robin, God damnit.

Crouching from his high vantage point, Tim could clearly see all three members of his merry band, whether they knew it or not. The shadow of the concrete around him kept him near invisible, if it wasn't for the glowing white lenses of his mask and the bright flash of red that spread over the new uniform's arms. Fingerstripes, those were Dick's thing... But Tim needed a change. Needed something new for the new Red Robin. The old one... Well, the old one died at the hands of Ra's Al Ghul, when he told himself he'd never be able to get back in the game because of what he'd done, what he was made to do to keep his city and his family and his friends safe. Besides, with his old gear either destroyed or left to ruin, he figured he'd need to do some upgrading regardless.

"You still thinkin', feather-brain?" Another breath of a laugh, shaking his head and glancing in the direction of the speedster. Bart was keeping himself occupied, as always, by playing around with the rusty lightning that haloed every appendage as he ran. Short sprints gave him just enough to practice throwing the thin bolts at the gravel, every strike leaving a blackened mark on the ground, throwing his already wild hair back further over the open top cowl. "You're almost scarin' me with how spooky silent you are. Then again, guess we've just worked with a boss that likes to be a little more commanding-" ZZRP! "... Not that there's anything bad about that, Wondy."

Bringing his arm up out of it's draped cape coverage, Tim glowered at the holographic screen appearing in his field of vision, working on typing in commands on the gauntlet. White lenses narrowed as he worked, a sly smile forming as information flooded the screen. "I'd have thought you all discovered patience while I was off the team. Guess that's what I get for assuming." Remotely, Tim snagged footage from the hidden security cameras outside of the building's loading bay. Without much more than a second to lose, the familiar lights of a transport truck came up on the screen. People or product, didn't matter, that was their cue.

"Transport approaching, East loading bay. Go for Operation Hart Protector. Flash, keep the truck from parking, watch perimeter. Superboy, Wonder Girl, bust in. Keep watch for digital storage, and don't destroy them please and thank you."

CASSIE: A small smile tugged at Cassie's lips even through the ominous cloud she felt darken with every passing moment. There was always a part of her that couldn't help brighten up around her team, her best friends. When Tim had left she had been a bit wary of leading the team herself, not wary in her skills but in everyone not wanting her to lead after having Tim as a leader. She never had trouble finding her voice, making sure it was the loudest and most commanding. Almost on the other side of the spectrum from Tim, cool and calculating while she was loud and commanding.

"Thanks, Bart. I think," Cassie snorted out. "No destroying, you got it." This part was easy, putting herself in the mission mindset. She could push aside the looming gray cloud and the way her stomach was churning, head starting to spin. It was fine. Maybe a trip to Dr. Mid-Nite was due, but she'd keep that to herself for now.

Cassie took to the air, flying towards the loading bay and faltered in the air as her head spun. She quickly righted herself and let out a shaky breath, shaking her head and surging forward to punch in the door. "You're slacking, Superboy!" Cassie quipped despite the words feeling heavy on her tongue. What had just happened?

Didn't matter. She had to keep going.

KON: It wasn't like he wasn't paying attention, he was great at multitasking, after all, but he was almost always more attuned to Cassie's heartbeat than anything else. Most days it thumped solidly in his ear, grounding him when work got overwhelming and comforting him when he caught glimpses of Clark flying across the sky. He figured it was just a super thing, really, because he knew with certainty Clark did the same with Lois and he would bet his last Dr.Pepper Jon did it with Damian. It was nice, knowing that the person you loved most in the world was safe and happy but now his head snapped toward where Cassie's heartbeat was coming from, the falter in its beat making him frown.

Cassie never got nervous. Not even when they faced foes that were far more terrifying than some drug traffickers. It worried him and a part of him wanted to rush over to her but he would never hear the end of it if he did. Not from Tim and certainly not from Cassie herself. She could take care of herself, always had.

He tore through the ceiling with a grin, grabbing one of the few guards by the collar with a quick, "Sup?" Before grabbing onto the man's weapon and tossing it across the warehouse.

"C'mon!" He whined, "Ladies first and all that. I was just being a gentleman." He grinned, winking at her as he tore a strip of metal from a parked van and formed it around the guards wrists in makeshift handcuffs. "You think Robin would buy us some handcuffs or do you think he'd be worried we'd use them for less than PG purposes?" He asked, dropping the man onto the ground as he glanced toward Cassie.

TIM + BART: Bart didn't need to be told to GO twice. He was off running the minute the order was given, a blip on Tim's visual radar as he appeared to just.. Appear in front of the parking truck, leaning against the hood, still humming from an engine that didn't have time to turn off. "Hi, boys. I'm gonna have to ask you to vacate the premises, orders from the boss." A gear shifted, the tires crunched against the pavement. "... Haha, oops." The speedster pushed his hands against the hood, flipping himself onto the trailer in a few quick motions, holding onto the edge for fear of getting flung off. "I don't think they bought it!!" He called out over the engine revving, the vehicle scraping the side of the building as it attempted to throw the hero off.

Tim was still waiting, a looming shadow at his post, listening and watching like a... "You do know I can still hear you all, right?" He sighed, closing down his holographic computer and standing on the edge of his vantage building. May as well get into the fray, he wasn't trained to just sit back. Besides, he'd been doing far too much of that lately. Grapple launcher in hand, the bird leapt into the air and soared for what felt like the first time in forever. Flying was really more Dick's thing, but there was a special kind of feeling in that free fall, the calculations you had to make, to get yourself to safety without hitting the ground or pulling your arm out of its socket. Without another spoken word, or much other thoughts, the red bird swung up to fall near silently through the hole the Super left in the ceiling, crouched and ready to strike.

A loud crash against the wall and a mumbled "Owwie..." In his ear caught his attention first, head whipping over to the wall the noise. "Flash?"

"M'fine," came the grunted reply, Bart pushing himself back up on his knees. "Truck's not parked. In fact, it's way past that."

"Shit."

"Not to worry, Captain, I'm on it." Funny, Tim doesn't recall Bart ever sounding annoyed himself. His scowl deepened even as he tossed batarangs into the onslaught. There were a lot more hostiles than he'd initially thought...

"Hey, Rob, did these guys also have a weapons trade deal? 'Cause it's a little hard to catch up when I'm also being shot at."

Double shit.

CASSIE: Whipping her lasso out, Cassie snapped it out and wrapped it around the nearest man's forearm. She tugged hard and sent him flying back. A smile pulled at her lips and she rolled her eyes at Conner's attempts at flirting in the midst of them taking down the guards. "Definitely not," she tugged her lasso back and kicked out at the guard who was attempting to charge her, sending him crashing into the nearest wall and making him crumple in on himself. Tim came swinging in and it was like something clicked into place despite the persistent bad feeling that had made itself home in her chest.

Of course, that couldn't last. Bart's voice sounded out through the comms and Cassie's heart sunk right down into her stomach. "Shit," she breathed out, trying to think of a solution and quick. "Flash, I'm coming! You two handle this!" She barked out the orders and shot out of the doors that were no longer hanging on the hinges after her hard punch. There was a memory that flashed across Cassie's mind of Bart and his knee, the way Deathstroke had put a bullet in it with no hesitation. She couldn't let him get hurt again. She wouldn't.

The dizziness was back and Cassie felt like she was seconds away from throwing up, but pushed it back. She pushed herself harder and faster, shooting through the air and throwing her lasso to wrap around the exhaust pipe of the truck. A scream tore its way through Cassie as she tugged and tugged hard, lifting the back of the truck up and dragging it backwards. Shots sounded out and Cassie tugged up harder, bullets ripping through the air and bouncing off her bracelets. Pain shot up her arms and spread throughout her body unlike she had felt before, the gas being pressed harder to try to get away from her. The exhaust pipe snapped and Cassie was sent flying back, a surprised yelp leaving her. "Oh no you don't!"

Cassie caught herself in the air and tried to push through the dizzy spell and pain tingling in her entire body. Then something seemed to just snap as she pushed through the air, her body faltering up high in the sky and suddenly dropping down. Cassie scrambled, trying to force her body back up airborne but nothing happened, the dread setting in.

A blood curdling scream escaped Cassie as she yelled out, "CONNER!" She was falling down towards the ground at a rapid speed and unable to stop it.

KON: He smirked, happy at the sight of his girlfriend's lips twitching into a small smile at his antics. He swiftly dealt with another guard, tossing him against a wall and pointedly ignoring the man's loud groan of pain. "Hey, if you didn't want to deal with us you probably shouldn't be doing... whatever it is you're doing here," he said before turning to Tim, "What are they doing here again?"

His head whipped toward Cassie, his eyes following as she punched her way through the metal doors and off toward Bart. "Goddammit," He sighed, turning to Tim, "Does she seem a little off to you? Her heartbeat is going crazy."

He sighed, pulling Tim behind him as a barrage of bullets came through the open door, a large truck screeching to a halt as "What are we supposed to do n-" His words were cut off when he heard, once again, Cassie's heartbeat falter and then, no more than a second later, the terror-laced scream of his name. He glanced at Tim, eyes wide but before the man could say anything he was flying up through the roof once more, dropping Tim onto a different building before he pushed himself toward the sound of the scream.

His heart raced and he swooped down, his heels digging gouges into the street as he skidded right under Cassie, his arms ready to catch her before he was shooting back into the sky with a relieved laugh, his arms pulling her closer to his chest. "What the hell was that, Cass? Are you okay?"

TIM + BART: This was... Too familiar. Too nostalgic. The staff in his hands seemed to transport him back to a time when he was just a teen, a teen in green tights, a little too obsessed with ninjas, given the gruff command to take care of his own team as his predecessors before had done. A near mirror image of the League, the ones stuck to their sides or in their shadows. The wind in his hair as he whirled around, added more to the momentary illusion, and he forgot for a fleeting moment that the four of them had ever been apart. It was clockwork, just as easy as muscle memory...

That was, until things went wrong.

Just their luck, the world gave them a sign that they should've kept to themselves, it seemed. Tim barely had the chance to answer Kon's questions before the scream nearly blew out the speaker in his ear. White eyes went wide with shock, a whispered "Cass-" making it's way out of his throat. It didn't take much more than a shared look of fear to know that his teammate had heard it too, possibly a million times louder than either of them wanted to hear. He was trying to think of a plan, to send Kon off so he could fend off the rest of the hoard himself, to call back Bart and get at least someone on his 6, but his brain doesn't run on super speed, the ground flying away from him faster than he could start to talk again.

"What the hell-?!" Another sentence, reflexive and reactive, and again barely spoken before he was dropped out of the air again. Damn it all. Tim rolled to a kneel again, looking up to see a blurred streak racing off into the horizon, his plans fizzling out like a match in a puddle. They had this, they had this under control and ready to get done. What the hell was going on that he didn't plan for?? He wanted to make a retort, tell the other that he was fine, that he should've just left him there to duke it out, but... He worried. Lips pulled into a tight frown, masked eyes watching the blur fade away, he waited... Listened... Watched. It's what he was good at, right?

Bart skidded to a full stop just behind the capture zone, though his gold, sparking eyes darted from the sky to the road. "Grife, they're gone," He sighed, a gloved hand flicking through the windblown nest of hair, letting it fall into his face. He wasn't about to get another hospital trip out of them coming together again as a team, no sir. Besides, he had the plates, make and model, and gaudy off-white color scheme committed to memory, it wasn't like it was going to be hard to find with a now broken exhaust.

It was a moment of silence from the both of them, just staring at what they could only assume was the super-couple above them. All was quiet until Tim decided it was time to speak up again: "Status report."

CASSIE: There was a certain sense of helplessness as Cassie fell down, down, down. The wind caused her hair to whip past her face, not because of her pushing her body through the sky but from her descent down towards the ground. Her eyes squeezed shut as tears stung at them, so many faces flashing in her mind as the air rushed past her body.

Conner, Bart, Tim. Her team she had let down in a course of action she hadn't even seen coming. Donna and Diana, two Amazons and her sisters she had felt so disconnected from for far too long. She didn't feel a part of the Amazons and entirely too much like a boat floating far out to see. There was Kara and Jon, the two other Kryptonians that had wormed their way into her heart. The anger she had quietly held for Kara despite being able to relate far too deeply. There was a regret in the fact she had been angry with her in a place that had only come from wanting to protect Conner. Her mom. Her mom, who had only wanted to take care of her and was horrified when she decided to become a hero. Her mom who she hadn't talked to in so long and ached for her in this moment. Maybe she was right, Cassie didn't know what she was doing and hadn't in a very long time.

Suddenly, arms were around Cassie and she was shot back up into the air. She let out a startled gasp and her eyes opened, arms scrambling to wrap around Conner's neck tightly. She parted her lips to answer and wasn't even sure what to say. What did happen?

"...I don't know," Cassie whispered weakly, a tear escaping and rolling down her cheek. She wasn't one to fall apart like this, but she had been scared, terrified even. "I was...I've been feeling off lately. Dizzy and just like something wasn't right. I ignored it for awhile, was gonna go visit Dr. Mid-Nite...then I just—" Failed them. She failed them and the mission. Their first mission back as a team and she had ruined it.

"I was flying after the truck and it was like someone tugged the power chord on my powers. I just...fell. I couldn't make myself fly no matter how hard I tried. If I had to guess I probably can't even make a dent in a door I punch. I'm...useless. I don't have any powers." The reality came crashing down on Cassie swift and fast. She didn't have any powers. She had had powers for so long now, was one of the heavy hitters on the team alongside Conner. What good was she without them?

Tim's voice crackled to life in the comms unit and Cassie's response was half hearted—monotone at best. "I'm fine." She didn't feel it. Not in the slightest.

KON: She was safe, here in his arms with her heartbeat fluttering wildly and her voice breaking. He looked down at her and his teeth dug into his bottom lip as his fingers squeezed a little tighter only to ease up again in an instant. His flight wavering as his brows stitched together in concern.

There had never been a time that he could remember that he had been scared to hurt her, but now as he looked into her eyes and saw the vulnerability shining there he had to take a deep breath just to collect himself. He shifted her weight into one arm and brushed away the stray tear as best as he could, his lips pursing as they continued to flow. He landed them on the ground and glanced around, a small dry chuckle bubbling past his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. They were farther out than he had anticipated, somewhere upstate from the look of it. He had been so terrified, so panicked in the moment that he hadn't even realised how fast they were flying. His only thought had been getting her away as quickly as possible but now he felt guilty. Bart needed him, he had left Tim on a random roof, his need to protect her so strong that he hadn't given a second thought to abandoning the team, his best friends.

They could have been captured, they could have been hurt, they could have been killed.

He took a shuddering breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he reached blindly for Cassie's hand and cradled it in his own. He needed to focus on her right now. Bart and Tim were smart and capable and probably already tracking them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, hating how just a few weeks earlier she had asked him the same question. When did they start keeping secrets? Lying by commission? That wasn't them, was it?

"You are not-" he huffed, snatching the comm from his ear and pinching it between his fingers until he heard a satisfying crunch. "Look, we'll figure it out, Tim will- I don't know, do Tim things and we'll fix it, okay? Don't cry," he said pulling her into a hug, "I hate when you cry."

TIM + BART: No visual, they disappeared... That wasn't too odd in a normal sense, but this wasn't a normal mission. He knew they were out there at least, knew they were still alive. He wished that was all the assurance he needed. Cassie wasn't fine, and Kon wouldn't be fine unless she was. Something had gone terribly wrong here. Possibilities flooded his head, nearly blocking out the mental work he'd already put in that he'd take on solo to try finishing what the four of them had started. Maybe it was easier that way, anyways-

Nope. Fuck. Stop that, you promised you'd stop that. You're fine. Just breathe.

A deep grumble sounded at the back of his throat when he pulled up his screen again, typing quick commands to try and find the pair... And noticed he could only see one dot on his radar. Damn it. Damn it all. "Well, at least he won't get to whine about calling it off."

"Yeah, he can get pretty whiney, huh?" Without a second to spare, it seemed, the yellow-clad speedster had come up to flank the vigilante, his eyes slightly glowing from the sparks that threatened to take his vision for the moment. "I don't think he'll be doin' much of that now, though."

“What happened?" Tim asked, concern filtering through the gruff mask he attempted to put on his voice.

"She just..." Lost, confused, worried, the speedster looked back up at the sky. "She just kinda' fell."

The two shared a moment of silence, each one lost in their own thoughts. If Tim wasn't trying to figure it all out at once, he'd have to laugh at the fact that this was probably the longest time Bart had ever stayed quiet. Deep down, Bart knew it too, but he was stuck in place, rooted, grounded, frozen. All words he never wanted to be. But... What could either of them really do? No one had the full story, least of all Cassie, they were sure.

"... Head back home, Bart," Tim eventually sighed, closing down the holograph screen, turning his head at the familiar sound of an engine on the streets below. Hello, old faithful. "Get some rest. I'll send a report when I can." Walking, not running, Tim dropped off the edge of the roof and onto the waiting top of the Redbird, waiting until he was actually in the old car to lean back and... 'Relax'. To say he had a bad feeling would be rhetorical.

And Bart only watched, still at a loss for words. Did he really want to go 'home' tonight? It felt like he shouldn't, he should let the two of them be alone as much as they could. Maybe he should leave a note, send them a text, maybe he should go to the Garricks or his old place he shared with M-... No no, don't do that, Allen. With the feeling of tears threatening to take his eyes, the speedster set a sort of concentrated scowl on his face at the horizon line. Without another second to lose, he was gone in a flash, taking off to no destination in particular. There were no problems while he ran free, there wasn't anything he had to worry about if he just kept going.

He'd be back tomorrow anyways, always smiling, always happy.

CASSIE: Conner was trying, but all Cassie could feel was a never ending sense of dread and disappointment. She hated letting them down, had been afraid of it for so long even. Back when she was the leader of the team that was a constant fear. For as confident as she was, she truly had lost all faith and confidence in herself steadily over time. She saw Diana, even Donna, and didn't know where she fit into the picture. They were Amazons through and through, but she...she wasn't. She could pretend all she wanted, but she was just some girl who happened to be part god and was only ever gifted these powers by her deadbeat of a grandfather who just so happened to be Zeus.

Why didn't you tell me? The question was enough to make Cassie grimace and flinch the tiniest bit. She had told Scott, breaking down in a similar fashion in the man's new home on Genosha that something was wrong with her. She hadn't said anything to anyone else, almost afraid if she uttered any more about it that something would happen. Little did she know, she was doomed regardless.

"I didn't mean to...I was scared. I thought something was wrong and I was afraid if I talked about it then there would actually be something wrong with me. How am I supposed to explain that? I can't explain it other than I had a terrifying gut feeling that there was something absolutely fucking wrong with me." Cassie sighed weakly and scrubbed at her eyes tiredly, she felt completely drained. Whether it was from the loss of powers or just...emotionally being completely destroyed was up for debate. The lasso at her hip felt entirely too heavy and she wanted to rip it apart, throw it away with her bracelets and never look at either again.

"Yeah. We'll figure it out." Cassie parroted halfheartedly at best. She had a feeling that they wouldn't. That she would be...stuck like this and wouldn't be needed. By anyone. "Let's just...can you take us home, please?" She requested quietly, moving to wrap her arms around Conner's neck once more as his arms moved around her. The wind in her hair and the clouds in the sky were a far different experience when someone was carrying her rather than her flying through them herself. Her head fell to Conner's shoulder and she squeezed shut tightly. They'd figure it out. They had to. Right? Right. (She hoped so at least. She didn't know what she'd do if she was stuck like this forever. She could only hope and try not to let that diminish for now.)

#int: discord #discord: conner kent #discord: tim drake #discord: bart allen #int: conner kent #int: tim drake #int: bart allen #conner kent: 017 #tim drake: 004 #bart allen: 002 #violence tw #injury mention tw #guns tw #drug mention tw #kxnel #cleverbxrd #fxstestkid

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hippityhoppityyourenowmyproperty · 6 years ago

Text

Reset!Rant (part 5)

Gemini Ascendant

Chapter: 1

Max: "Are they always like this?" Helen nodded and turned the page of her bodice-buster romance novel. "This is the status quo for them. Bart gets bored. Bart annoys Thad. Thad overreacts. Chaos, followed by a scuffle in the back yard. Boys come in dirty and exhausted. Repeat."

She forgot to mention the part about Thad abusing Bart and being the one who insults him. And getting murderous thoughts and viciously beating Bart up is something a little more inexcusable than just overreacting, as Helen puts it.

Thad stared at his costume that he still held in his hands. "I don't think this is going to fit, either." At least Bart was good for making the embarrassing mistakes first, so he didn't have to.

Sums up pretty well all that Thad sees in him. Because despite proving his worth and helping out numerous times in this story, Thad still refuses to acknowledge how essential Bart was to the mission and how helpful he can be.

Thad was not letting go of the subject. "You used to just cook out of box or can, too," He accused Bart. "Well yeah, but I leveled up." He stuck his tongue out at his brother. Thad's arm shot out and he grabbed Bart's tongue, eliciting a yelp of surprise.

This is another one of those scenes that is creepy and makes me feel very uncomfortable. This is a physical threat and it's aking towards physical abuse. Bart is playfully teasing him, and Thad sees that as such a big threat to his position of power that he feels the need to physically intimidate him and maybe even elicit pain. His actions aren't justified. They're not okay.

Thad complied and Max sighed. "Can't you two keep your hands to yourself for one day?"

Can't any of you see that Thad is always the one who starts fights and gets physical first? If you want to stop their fights, then maybe start by punishing the one who starts them.

Chapter: 2

"It's your own fault that they don't like you." Thad ducked a flying shirt and smirked at Bart's angry glower. "You let your nature get the better of you." Without lowering his chin, he sneered down at his twin. "You always do."

Weird, I could've sworn that you were the one who wasn't able to control his angry outbursts one chapter ago and tried to hurt Bart because he was teasing you. You're the one who resorts to abusing Bart because you can't control your anger, so get off his back for being impulsive. He's better at not letting his impulses control himself than you are, you're just too deluded to understand that. Impulsive anger is still impulsive.

Helen leaned against the counter and looked Thad in the eye. "He's a little excited right now, and we all know what happens when he's wound up like that. None of his friends can keep up with him if he gets too enthusiastic." Thad knelt down to rub Dox between his ears. "Fine, I'll babysit him."

Yeah, great idea Helen, give the person who's ripping on Bart and abusing him even more power over him, what could possibly go wrong? Isn't Bart the one who constantly had to stop Thad from doing stupid, reckless stuff because he was mad?

Max: "Do you see what I'm aiming for? Helen has done wonders in turning a potential Cain and Abel into Castor and Pollux. Now, we have to make sure that it sticks.

Sure, except for that Pollux actually loved his brother and gave up his immortality so that he could be with Castor, and that he wasn't an abusive jerk. Thad is the opposite of Pollux. He would never sacrifice something for Bart, he would let him die if it wasn't for Max. He's callous and toxic to Bart. Helen didn't make Thad less hostile towards Bart, if anything she encouraged his vile behavior. She doesn't deserve credit for this. Making sure that it sticks means that you are keeping up an abusive relationship. Max should work with Thad on his behavior if he really cared about Bart and their whole team dynamic.

Chapter: 3

Anita: "I remember us joking around that you couldn't be normal if you tried."

"Hey! I can too!" Bart glared at Thad, who was snickering at his expense. "Like you're any better." "I am", Thad replied with a grin. " I can fake being normal just as easily as I can fake being you. How else do you think I get through the day?" Bart ticked off the items on his fingers. "Picking on me, chatting with your internet girlfriend, playing with Dox..."

Thad really has a problem with self reflection in this. Then there's the immediately trying to embarrass Bart for his short comings, and saying that he's so much better than Bart. He's condescending as ever.

And not being able to fake being normal a.k.a. neurotypical is funny because..?

Thad braced against the wall and raised a golden eyebrow. "It doesn't look so much like he's joining it, as it seems more like he's owning it."

Kon's sudden frown and the telekinetic ejection of Bart was just the payoff he was looking for.

Because when Thad is in company of Bart's friends and therefore can't hurt Bart, he will try everything in his power to get them to hurt or humiliate Bart for him.

Bart: I don't get these guys. They don't act like zombies are supposed to. They're tearin' stuff up, yeah, but the're not biting people or eating brains." Thad leaned over Greta's sketchbook with his hands folded behind his back. "Then maybe they're not zombies, moron."

While casually calling him a moron (for the fifth time, by the way) Bart's friends are standing right next to him. They say nothing in response to Thad being an absolute dick to him.

Thad decided that he had enough of Greta play fashion designer and je hovered over Bart's shoulder to supervise the monitor. "Use the traffic cameras, idiot. You can follow the pseudo-zombies and extrapolate their path. Then you can tell your team where to head them up."

"I am using the traffic cameras!" Bart snapped back.

"You're not doing a very good job of it."

"Yeah? I don't see you doing this job!" Bart challenged.

Thad sneered down at him and countered, "I'm not part of your little team, and I wasn't asked to sit here."

This is the very definition of senseless criticizing and abuse that's disguised as advice. He's chewing Bart out for supposedly not doing a good job, but offers no help whatsoever. He's criticizing just because he can. He reigns Bart in for mistakes that don't even exist. Despite saying "You suck at this" He gives him no advice how to do it better. Imagine having to live with someone like that. Imagine having to listen to someone ripping on you for everything you did, even when there was nothing that you did wrong. There will always be something the abuser will be upset about, whether that thing exists or is just made up in order to be a reason to judge and criticizise the victim. Everything the victim does is somehow false.

As always, there's the put down directed at Bart's intelligence.

"He did," Thad grumbled. "I wish I could say that I had no obligation to save him, but I made a promise to Max that I would look after my idiot brother."

This confirms that Thad really would let Bart die and/or suffer right in front of him if Max wouldn't have told him to do otherwise. Also another put down.

Greta: "You're not moving very fast for a speedster saving his brother." Thad shrugged and kept his eyes on the monitot. "I'll let him dangle a bit just so he appreaciates my timely intervention more. Bart's a little dense." The last word came out with a derisive grimace.

He's risking Bart getting hurt or killed in a fight just so that Bart will learn to appreactiate his time more. Thad is the one who needs to learn to not take Bart's support for granted. He's the extremely demanding one who wants more than he deserves. In his eyes, Bart is a worthless idiot who needs to show more respect to him. And don't forget the insult. Thad wants everyone to understand how shitty Bart is because he has ADHD.

Conclusion

From the very start of their relationship Thad is a manipulative abuser who uses every opportunity he gets to ridicule and belittle Bart and continually wears his self esteem down. The lack of punishment Thad receives from his parental figuers for his damaging behavior not only turn Helen, Wally, Max and Jay into neglectful and borderline abusive guardians, but also lead to his toxic demeanor intensifying. The lack of indignance the characters show when faced with Thad very obviously and aggressively abusing Bart right in front of them makes it seem like abuse is something normal and acceptable, and not something that is contemptible and needs to have consequences. Moreover, the fanfiction is ableist in that it paints insults that are directly meant to degrade ND people for being mentally disabled (such as r*tard and shortbus) as harmless and appropriate swear words for that group of people. It is infuriating that so many people praise it as 'the best fanfic about Bart and Thad out there with the most accurate characterisations of them' when the mental torture he inflicts on Bart is objectively so plain obvious. I think I know why the readers of this work failed to recognize the maltreatment. Sibling abuse isn't as known as parental abuse is, and even more people deny that it exists. Many people excuse abusive behaviors in sibling relationships because they're under the false assumption that siblings can't be abusive. They're even harder to convince that it is abuse when the siblings are twins and don't have a significant difference in age and physical appearance. Abuse always includes a power imbalance, and you can definetly see that in Bart's and Thad's relationship. It starts in that Thad is chronologically and mentally way older than Bart. He is also more knowledgable and well versed in combat situations and fighting. Through the use of intimidation, put downs and threats Thad enhances that already existing imbalance and makes it easier for himself to abuse Bart.

This version of Thad is one of the most evil, reprehensible and crude monsters I had the misfortune of meeting in fiction. Living with someone like him is a nightmare and through the entire work I felt bad for Bart. Despite what this work is trying to make you belive, abuse is never justified, no matter who is the victim and who is the perpetrator.

#tw abuse #sibling abuse #tw manipulation #thad thawne #bart allen #helen claiborne #max crandal #wally west #rant #reset!rant #fanfiction #impulse #inertia

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bluboothalassophile · 7 years ago

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Can i ask for a fic about the tabloids or paparazzi reacting or finding out that the infamous jason todd is engaged to rachel roth aka raven? 😄

Hello,

Sorry this took so long to get to but I hope you enjoy! And to every other anon and follower who’s left requests in my inbox, slow as I can be, I am working to get to them. Promise. =)

AmericanRoyalty…

Here’s the real story about Jason and Raven:

He’d been fourteen, he’d been in the clutches of Joker fornine fucking months, and tortured. His family hadn’t had a lead to follow, andthey couldn’t find him (it had taken him years to accept that they hadn’tabandoned him, they couldn’t find him, and there was a difference. And it hadtaken a bit longer for him to truly feel loved by them because before; asidefrom B and Al, they’d taken great pains to make him feel unwanted). Anyways, he’dbeen fifteen when Raven found him.

The demon daughter of John Constantine had been running fromone of her brothers and unwittingly tripped over him in her attempt to escape Hell.Apparently to escape Hell she had used her empathy, latching onto powerfulemotions; his, and dragged herself from Hell to his plane of existence again,and saw Joker torturing him. The fourteen year old hadn’t even hesitated as shetore the Joker’s heart out, and stood there bloody, covered in grime, and soot,and from the depths of Hell stood on trembling legs before him. She’dcollapsed, but her arrival in this plane had lead to Constantine coming and himbeing found and rescued.

Jason had never been so fucking thankful for anything in hislife.

Months of rehab, and surgeries, and shrinks poking and proddinghim had patched him up. It hadn’t removed the scars, or the hideous J brandedinto his cheek, but hell, the entire world knew Jason Todd had been taken by theJoker. They didn’t know Jason had been taken because he had been Robin, andthey didn’t know his pain of being replaced in his family, or how he wasn’twanted.

But he was American Royalty, and B had firmly kept him inthe family.

Jason had bonded with Raven though in their time in the JLhospital. He thought her to be quirky, off beat, a bit odd, maddeninglyapathetic; and exceedingly competitive as they did rehab together, and for along time the only friend he had.

In the time he’d been kidnapped B had somehow ended up with Timand Cass, Damian had come a year after Jason had been found, and then there wasDuke, and Jason… Jason was Dick’s failed brother, and B’s dangerous child, hewasn’t needed or wanted. The Cave filled up with others, and Jason wasn’twanted.

Raven’s own home life had taken a turn for the worse. Heradoptive father, John Constantine had taken in Zatanna Zatara, with Zed andChas’ support of course. And Zatanna had turned into Raven’s nightmare whichhad driven his friend in on herself, and they had bonded over having shitty ‘oldersiblings’ even more.

But that was years, YEARS, ago when they’d been children.

Jason was now working at Gotham General, he had a medicaldegree, and was a trained trauma surgeon and had been a combatmedic for the JL teams he was on. He was best friends with Roy Harper (do notask how the fuck that had happened, because he didn’t know), and Raven stillwas his girl. She was his person, his rock, his lover, friend, confidant, and fiancée;had been his fiancée for about a year now.

Dick was divorcing Barbara Gordon, they were arguing aboutfidelity and alimony and that was a nightmare. Tim was set to marry Kon-El, a.k.a.Conner Kent, this spring. Cass was not dating, but she was trying to set up herbest friend Stephanie Brown. Duke was dating Claire Clover, again don’t askbecause B was about to have a hernia at that relationship. Damian had come out asasexual, and the brat was barely eighteen.

No matter, Jason’s engagement to Raven was old new by hisfamily’s standards. Very old news.

So as he walked out of the hospital he worked at, with Ravenin hand; because she had been kind enough to stop writing for a bit and be with him for a spell. It was great, and despite their ‘long distance relationship’ they were as close as they had been since he had met her ten years ago, he savored his fiancée’scloseness.

“And then he got all purple in the face and stated that wasn’thow this worked and demanded that I show up for the television interview,” sherecounted with her British accent; something she’d picked up a long time ago from Constantine, as they walked.

“He’s a moron,” Jason chuckled.

“He also said that he didn’t care if you were AmericanRoyalty, he was demanding the story, even if he had to come bother you at work.Then I said that was foolish and he called me an ignorant cunt for not givinghim the lead!” Raven stated in outrage.

“Love, it’s old news,” he pointed out as he sipped hiscoffee.

“I thought it was when I told him to go to hell. I don’t seewhy they all acted surprised about the ring or our engagement,” she rolled hereyes as she lifted her hand to stare at the ring he had gotten her, and she hadbeen wearing for a year. “Paparazzi are blind morons,” she decided.

“Obviously if they’re just noticing it now, and it’s notlike you’re a Duchess or Queen of England or something, I don’t see why this isTHAT big of a deal. So, we’re engaged, big whoop, wedding is a long ways off,”he shrugged.

“The engagement is our down payment for the wedding,” shechuckled.

“Exactly, it’s also just making sure you don’t get taken bysome other idiot.”

“Oh please, as Zee points out none would brave a demon as foolheartedlyas you,” she chuckled. He was very happy that her relationship with her olderadopted sister was on good enough terms for her to refer to Zatanna as Zee, hefelt it was a good sign for her.

“I don’t know, I’d have serious competition if GarfieldLogan grew up and decided you were his girl.”

“Ew.”

“Admit it little bird, you like him,” he tormented.

“He’s green, I’m grey, we’d clash Jason,” she dismissed.

“So if you were to leave me, who would it be for?” he askedin amusement. It wasn’t like Raven was going to go anywhere.

“Obviously I’d go for Garth.”

“What!?”

“I’m marrying a King, I could stand for nothing less thananother royal,” she stated.

He roared with laughter as he yanked her around and kissedher hard.

There was a click of a camera before that picture was plasteredeverywhere in America and across the world.

‘Gotham Prince Found His Princess.’

Jason revised it to state what it really was. Jason hadfound his Queen and he wasn’t letting her go.

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one shot #jason todd #raven #rachel roth #jayrae #redrae #raex

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iphoenixrising · 7 years ago

Text

I said I was kind of going on a hiatus. Too many things in my brain pan, but I connected with such a wonderful person, @careamorran, and had to write a thing based on a spectacular piece of art :D The post is here, and I really just wanted a little fun and maybe a little angst ;)

The blast of sunlight in his eyes is the conscious train rolling down the track. You know, right at his face.

After his syrupy thoughts evaluated the stabbing to his eyes as something non-lethal, the need to throw something sharp and vaguely bat-shaped at the defenseless windows fades enough that he can squint at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

Dammit.

He and Jay have plans for the day. Partially because it’s been two years today, and since Jason Todd is actually a sentimental cinnamon roll underneath the intense murder you vibe, Tim had managed to wrangle his reluctant significant other into finally getting the new ident set-up. It’s been a long time coming, and they’ve been arguing on and off about seeing to the details for weeks.

(“Things like a driver’s license, Jay.”)

(A careless shrug with a mouth full of meatball sub, “I drive, Timmers. I drive all the time.”)

(“Legally. The key here is legally.”)

His boyfriend had finally caved for their anniversary, and Tim would be damned if they missed the opportunity because of a long night in Gotham’s seedy underworld.

(Black Mask? Totally an ass hat, and no, he gives no shits about ruining the guy’s night. Seriously, fuck him. Mask literally hit on the Red Hood, right in front of him.)

With a soft groan of the newly conscious, Tim sits up, still wavery, and in desperate need of caffeine.

Desperate. Need.

The yawn is jaw-cracking, and he’s already reaching over for the lump of still-snoozing, just a tuft of dark hair peeking out from under their fluffy comforter in Jay’s room at the Manor.

If he grins a little, thinking someone as bad ass as the Red Hood is incredibly cute, well, no one else would ever have to know.

“Jay,” his voice still husky is bordering on fond, “we should get up, it’s late.”

He’s expected the inevitable, “where’s m’ good morning kiss, Timmy?” and to be pulled back down because Jay is really just as bad as Dick when it comes to pre-consciousness cuddling.

The hand moving fast to grab his wrist, to stop him from making contact isn’t necessarily unexpected because of reasons like ingrained instincts and Robin training. The occasional accidental injuries aren’t anything new. At times, it might be things like terrible nightmares or remnants of the Lazarus Pit. On the flip side, it might be residual panic because instead of Kon or Bart or Steph or Bruce, it’s Jason spitting out a mouth full of blood and gripping his harness with wide eyes and stuttering heart.

“Hey, calm down, it’s just--”

And whatever he’d been about to say in the usual soothing way dies in his throat when Jay turns, still in the t-shirt he’d thrown in before they’d fallen into bed last night, and--

Tim’s eyes go wide in shock and surprise.

Who the fuck is in bed with me!?

The set of jawline and ensuing frown is so painfully familiar--

From that time when Tim was a kid with a camera and Robin dove in out of the night to save him from a thug.

A Robin in his prime.

A Robin that’s fifteen instead of twenty-five.

Holy shit, Batman.

“Oh…” is about all his half-wired brain can muster.

Those eyes, the same ones from the painting in the main hall that used to be one of his safe places, the eyes without the green flecks, take stock, roving over Tim’s sleep-mussed hair, his face, his bare throat and chest, his too-big boxers.

And something seems to click.

“WHAAT THE FUUUCK?!!”

Is about as horrified as you can imagine.

The ensuing fight is really anticlimactic. Jason has aged-down equivalently, so while he can still duck, dodge, and fight better than any average person, he doesn’t have memories further than now meanwhile Tim hasn’t lost an ounce of his edge.

“You need to calm it down, Robin,” he tries while blocking a punch that is decidedly lower than what he’s used to. Yeah, throwing out that little bombshell is really a 50/50, but nothing else he can possibly say would help either:

*I’m your boyfriend, and you will be seriously pissed at yourself if you hurt me.

*I was the Robin after you, promise. I only got pants because those green panties were a hard ‘no.’

*You haven’t tried killing me in a whole year. Can we stop trying to break the record?

As it turns out, maybe he should have because those eyes go wide and the fight takes on a more desperate turn.

Well, fuck.

He catches the knee before it takes out his jaw, his suddenly longer reach catching the much smaller fist in the palm of his hand. “That’s enough, Jay. You’re going to--” get yourself hurt.

But the younger is panting and red-face, gritting his teeth with narrowed eyes, and an obvious plan in the works when he realizes he’s not going to beat Tim.

“Who,” and the tone isn’t as low and growling as the Red Hood, but it still jars Tim right in all the places where he’s still mesmerized by the second Robin, “the fuck are you and how didja find out?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I’m going to let Bruce and Dick fill you in,” he replies, easing back slowly.

The teenager’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“How about this then: you hide books all over the Manor. Alfred found A Separate Peace, The Outsiders, 1984, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Once and Future King just to name a few.” He leaves the ones he’s found off the list just because the memories of his post-Robin life are apparently gone, and Tim is in no hurry to fill him in on the horrific events starting with the trip to Ethiopia.

Jason’s mouth falls open in a little ‘o’ of shock.

“One more just so you feel better about this: the first time B got hurt, seriously hurt, defending you, you called Dick at Titan’s Tower in New York.” His hands up in that not dangerous pose, he eases just slightly closer, tilting his head to actually look down. “It was that time with Killer Croc and you were freaked out.”

“How--” the teenager struggles, blinking at him with those blue, blue eyes, all of it without the Pit’s influence riding him.

With that realization, a horrible kind of plan hits Tim right in the brain pan.

“I know you’re Robin, so there’s some evidence, Mister Junior Detective.”

Jay gives him a huffing sneer, “real wise ass, ain’t cha?”

“Learned from the best,” he deadpans with a sad half-smile and fond eyes, “So, I vote we go downstairs, find Alfred so I can have some coffee, and then Bruce so he can have a holy shit moment of his own.”

Still staring at him, still calculating the risks and possible nefarious plots afoot, Jason only follows because he’s planning the best way to take this guy he’d woken up with down (and maybe staring down at his ass) while they went down the grand staircase.

Luckily, as it happens to go in Wayne Manor, at least someone has the patience to deal with things like utter fuckery.

That person will always be Alfred Pennyworth.

“Good morning Master--”

If Tim wasn’t as light and fast on his feet, there would be a whole lot of smashed ceramic all over the floor.

“My-my word, Master...Master Jason?”

“Mornin’ Alf,” the teenager waves a little, grinning sheepishly. “Found Slick here runnin’ the halls, so’s I thought maybe ya know who he is.”

(Slick? Tim arches a brow at that because really)

Alfred blatantly looks over, immediately getting back his usual calm, cool, and collected. “I do hope the scuffle I heard upstairs did not result in any bloodshed on the Turkish carpets, Master Tim.”

“I’m hurt at your complete lack of faith in my kick-ass skills, Alfred,” he waves a hand on his way to the sideboard where wonderful things (like coffee, please, please, please give him coffee to be able to deal with this and what he should very much not tell Jason) waited. He pauses to get his thoughts together, makes a mental Venn Diagram of the potential backlash of both scenarios, and adds cream with a little sugar so he doesn’t down the first mug liked boiling lava.

“I’m Tim Drake. Nice to meet you, by the way. It’s much nicer when we’re not trying to kill each other,” and yeah, that’s Alfred clearing his throat just a little. “I’m also a vigilante, so of course I’ve heard of Robin,” luckily, the way to trip up Jason’s radar is to tell the lie with just enough truth mixed in, “and I do work with Batman sometimes on out-of-town cases. I also do data collection and reconnaissance for the Titans, who I’m sure you’ve at least met at this juncture.” First few desperate sips accomplished, he moves to take a spot at the table and wait until Jason warily joins him, scrappy and scrawny, eyes that take in everything.

And he moves lighter on his feet, without a hell of a lot of burdens and probably a mass of missing scars from things like crowbars and insane psychopaths that deal in megalomaniacal delusions of grandeur. It’s a Jason Tim’s only known with a mask, and it’s a rough moment to stop himself from reaching out across the table to grip those twitchy fingers, but all he can do is swallow his heart back down in the vicinity of his chest, glance at Alfred with a little Batanese using just his eyebrows.

Without giving the his younger boyfriend an opportunity to ask, he cuts in with, “occasionally, B lets me stay over when a case gets...rough. It was last night anyway. I’m sorry I surprised you, but I’d been awake for about seventy-odd hours by then, so I was pretty compromised.”

Pretty much all true.

During the distraction, Alfred turns to busy himself at the sideboard. A glow in Tim’s peripheral is probably the butler texting the fam. B, Come downstairs immediately; Damian, please do not yet come downstairs. I shall bring breakfast up straight away. Dick, your presence would be appreciated at the Manor. It seems we have a situation. To make it a little more obvious he’s being serious, Alfred completely takes advantage of a displaced Jason, too busy staring Tim down from across the table, to snap a discreet picture to follow-up all those texts.

A fresh glass of juice and a side cup of coffee makes some of the tension ease from Jay’s shoulders, “sounds pretty stupid, you feel me? First rule of being a cape: take care a’ yerself. What we got against these crazy assholes? At the end of the day, it’s yer fists and yer brains, so ya gotta make sure ya got enough in ya ta take the beating.”

And it’s a fifteen-year-old Jason pointing a finger at him around his juice and all mock-serious, which it totally why he starts laughing without snorting coffee up his nose. Points for him.

“You are terrible at mocking B in lecture-mode. Terrible,” he shakes his head a little once he’s sure he isn’t going to choke, “more practice, okay? You’ll totally get there, but don’t think you’re ever beating out Dick. He is the official runner-up in the Best Dad Lecture category.”

A heartbeat and Jason starts to crack a grin, laughing out loud in that younger voice, the blue of his eyes without the Pit lingering, without the grim realizations of the day he’s going to die (again). He’s so heartbreakingly innocent of it all (and Tim just wonders how Bruce is going to take this because things like tears and BatDad are going to go down soon--he can feel it).

So by the time Alfred emerges from the kitchen with warm eggs and fluffy waffles, the tension has eased down between the former Robins by the way they throw stories back and forth.

“Yer kiddin’ me,” Jason deadpans back.

“All true, I swear. Freeze and Ivy watched him bust his bat ass--”

“Y’know, there was one time he fell through a crappy roof right inta a ladies’ shower, right?”

“I’m sorry what now?”

“That ain’t what she was thinking, Timmy. Just takin’ a shower and boom, there’s the Bat admiring the decor an’ shit.”

The mental image is enough to get him started all over again, laughing while huddled over his precious, beautiful coffee and lost staring at the fucking beautiful sight of his younger, unburdened significant other. Even better, more evidence in favor of the formulating plan clicks into place with Jason’s easy laugh and wild gestures. But it all comes down to basic facts: fifteen or twenty-five, this is the crazy idiot he loves. And if this is a golden opportunity to give the guy a second chance, one without the Joker and ticking bombs, without being buried alive, and thrown in the Lazarus Pit, it might well be worth the effort.

#based on fanart #love this panel #thank-you for letting me write something!#tim drake #jason todd #de-aged Jason!#someday I'll write more about Jason patrolling as Robin #you know B has BatDad feels #my fic #my writing

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miss-choco-chips · 5 years ago

Text

Twisted soulmates

BIG Thank you to @iphoenixrising who let me babble on chat about this idea, and to @the-sky-is-a-lie who is an awesome sweetheart and read and edited this for me (THANK YOU!)

---------------------------

Tim has three names on one wrist. His soulmates. Tim has one name on the other wrist. His nemesis.

...or are they?

Tim gets his first mark the night the Graysons fell, ‘Richard John Grayson’ forever tattooed on him, the otherwise unblemished white skin of his left wrist almost shining in contrast to the new addition.

Young, he might be, but not stupid; never stupid. Neither of his parents would approve of a circus artist, perfect as he may be in Tim’s wide opened eyes, so he had to be smart about this. His mind hasn’t stopped whirling since the little touch that burned Dick’s name on him and vice versa, all kind of plans on how to broach the subject with the adults, how to make Dick like him beyond the promised love of a soulmate, every possibility dancing through his eyes, while his parents look for their seats at the stands none the wiser.

He's planning on asking his mom to stay after the show, so he might properly introduce himself to this marvelous trapezist, maybe proclaim an interest in the training - anything that could improve his overall abilities was a good thing in Janet’s eyes, and having her on board would be enough to force his father to accept. He’s excited at the prospect, and a part of him thinks Dick, up the trapeze getting ready for his act, feels the same. That he could feel, through the bond that snapped in place when the other kid first touched him, an echo of his own happiness, a joy at finding, so soon in life, something as beautiful as this.

He’s going to stay after the show. He’ll talk to Dick, introduce himself properly, be as mature as possible- Dick wouldn’t want a dumb kid as his soulmate. Maybe even make friends with this wonderful boy that can fly and is destined to love him.

(Love him, him, him. He can’t wrap his head around this strange concept of being on the receiving end of something strong and wonderful. He might cry.)

Then the tragedy occurs, and Tim's too traumatized to think about doing anything about it. He can't pester a grieving boy with this. They are kids after all, and it’s not like their bond is going anywhere.

(I don’t want to wait, please don’t forget about me, please love me.)

---.---

Dick has just been adopted, his entire worldview had changed, adding a soulmate to care about would be just too mean of him. Tim can take care of himself, even when sometimes, after his parents left for yet another trip, he yearns for someone to hold his hand after a nightmare. To brush his hair back and hug him.

But that’s just the child in him. He doesn’t need it to live, it’s just a silly comfort thing to wish for, like the baby blanket his mother had made the servants take away once Tim turned four. So he keeps quiet. He waits.

Dick’s name is on his left wrist, after all. He is his soulmate.

----.----

He gets his second mark years later, when the Batcave’s security is breached and some strange men attack Bruce. The giant penny is too tall, but he still get a good look at the man below it, and something in his gut twists. It all makes sense a few minutes later, when Bruce is fighting someone else and the man in green robes pushes Tim aside, holding him hostage to get the Batman’s cooperation.

The skin on his wrist, the one that doesn't have Dick's promised love tattooed on it, burns. He doesn’t dare look down, aware of how taking your eyes from the predator in the room could mean instant death. He doesn’t need to, anyway; he already knows.

Tim’s pretty sure this is his nemesis, because no way he'd be destined to hate Dick and love this criminal, and they are on opposite wrists. So… getting away is the first step on his ‘do not interact with this terrorist until I’m significantly better at defending myself’ plan. Easy peasy.

He catches the side glance the man shoots him, because of course he also felt the burn, and there’s curiosity there. Something akin to amusement, which, Tim can get behind, he’s also seeing the irony of this, the utterly ridiculousness of him being important enough in the grand scheme of things to warrant being tattooed on this man’s skin.

There’s also possessiveness there, which isn’t fun at all. Stranger danger, his mind screams at him.

His nemesis shouldn’t be possessive of him, unless he has a really fucked up view of his enemies, in a ‘their death is mine, and mine only’ way. Because this is his nemesis, there's no doubt in his mind of that.

Dick is on his other wrist, after all, and he is his soulmate.

----.----

Bruce goes mental when he finds out later, and almost blows a gasket. Ra’s, as Tim later finds out his nemesis is called, is suddenly one upping the Joker on Batman’s high priority enemies list, which means only a glimpse of him anywhere near the city borders would warrant a call to Superman, Bruce’s ultimate last resort. That’s how big this is.

Young Justice has split feelings on the matter. Cissie and Cassie, ever the bloodthirsty ones in Tim’s humble opinion, suggest tracking the man down before he can get to their leader, and taking him out of the game. Probably permanently. Kon seems torn, half with the girls, half with Bart, who finds the whole thing amusing and exciting. Ra’s Al Ghul, one of the most dangerous enemies the Justice League ever faced, and little old Robin is his fated enemy. Not Superman, not Wonder Woman, not Batman himself; just their Rob. That, according to the speedster, is so, so, so crash. The rest of the team, if they have opinions, keep them to themselves. It takes a while to calm the room down and focus on their mission of the day, but he eventually succeeds.

Dick, on his part, comes back from where he was brooding with the Titans after a fight with his mentor to fret over Tim, and everything is right in the world.

He isn't afraid of Ra's. He has his new family, new friends, and soulmate.

----.----

There’s something on his pillow when he gets back from the weekend with his friends.

A perfect rose, white as snow, thorns so sharp Tim knows they would pierce skin if touched. Not that he would be so stupid as to do it, not when foes like Ivy existed.

But… there’s a ribbon, and it sends ice through his veins. A red ribbon, tied at the stem’s exact center. A flower with a ribbon, the universal symbol of soulmates.

He’s pretty sure Dick’s back in San Francisco. Which leaves...

No.

He squares his shoulders and searches in his bag for his Robin gauntlets, protecting his hands with them as he disposes of the rose.

His right hand stings a little through the entire process.

----.----

When he gets his third mark, he's honestly surprised. As well as on the edge of unconsciousness from blood loss.

The blood flooding his airways is his, and the building that he believed was his safe place would never feel like that again. His knocked out friends litter the hallways, the bo staff he tried to use to defend himself long lost to the fight, as this man, his hero, his Robin, his apparent Soulmate, tries to kill him.

(Their eyes meet and they feel it at the same time, the twist in their stomachs, which is what stops Jason's blade. Tim’s hand raises up, weakly, and carefully brushes against the one holding the knife. It burns, and everything goes black for a minute.)

(Jason stops breathing. He has the Joker on one hand, and was markless on the other until now, so this runt has to be his soulmate. No way it's the deranged clown. Which means he almost....)

Jason runs away (this is Jason, his wrist claims, not the mysterious Red Hood any longer) and Tim patches himself up, does damage control with his friends, calls Batman. His heart is beating twice as fast as usual, but he tries to be logical; Jason is on the same wrist as Dick, who is his soulmate, and opposite to Ra's, who's most likely his nemesis. Ergo, Jason's gotta be his soulmate.

His confused, probably traumatized, totally not in his right mind soulmate.

He's gotta be patient and wait. Jason surely will get better, will come back to Tim, will fix this mistake he almost made, will... will love him.

Dick is his soulmate, and calls him ‘little brother’, which hurts, but he says it with such warmth that it soothes the ache. Dick loves him.

Jason will, too, someday.

----.----

A few weeks later, he wakes up in the middle of the night, conscious of the feeling of being watched from the shadows of his room.

There’s the teddy bear Steph won for him at the fair some months ago, sitting on the chair near his bed where he last put it, but… odd. There’s something about it that’s not quite normal, something that wasn’t there when he went to sleep half an hour ago.

It took him less than a minute to spot it, which would still be shameful if Bruce ever found out, but he sees the unusual shine in the bear’s eye and groans, more tired than rightfully angry, feeling like the moody teenager he never actually was.

A hidden camera. This was the fifth of the year, what the hell?

Pissed off, he gets up and takes the scissors he leaves by his bedside (can’t exactly go to sleep with a birdarang there, his dad might check on him at night and freak out, but sleeping without a weapon in easy reach just makes him uncomfortable) and makes quick work of the bear, getting the device out with as minimal damage to the plushie as possible. He’ll fix it later.

Beyond done, one hand opens the window with more strength than absolutely necessary, the other flying back to gather momentum and throw the thing right at the supposedly empty shadow on the roof of the building across the street. He’s not surprised when a dark gloved hand catches it, the rest of the body still perfectly concealed by the night. Fucking ninja.

No words needed, he slams the window shut again and grumbles his way to his desk, turning on his lamp. He’s not falling asleep again tonight, so might as well work on some cases.

----.----

His fourth mark is both exciting and like a bucket of cold water.

It's a fucking kid.

Is this how Dick felt when he first got Tim's mark? No wonder he avoided talking about the subject, this was uncomfortable as fuck. Granted, it didn't necessarily have to be a romantic soulmate, platonic soulmates were a thing too, but... still. Awkward.

Even worse because the kid didn't have another mark and, as Tim was his first, was convinced he had to be his fated nemesis. No matter how hard Tim tried to explain the opposite; after the heart stilling moment where he extended his hand for a shake and was slapped away, thus providing the skin to skin contact needed for the bond to form, the brat was sure it was nothing but a ruse to get him to lower his defenses or something. God this kid was fucked up.

So. In short. There were two of his soulmates trying to kill him. Great.

But... Dick was on the same wrist as them. Dick loved him. Dick was his soulmate. So Damian... Damian had to be, as well. Maybe he'd grow out if his hate, maybe it was just a phase.

Maybe.

----.----

His mother and father were dead. Steph was dead. His two best friends were dead.

Tim was numb, going through the motions but not really feeling anything. His only source of emotion, nowadays, was his constant rage at Damian, and the adrenaline while fighting a bad guy.

He barely slept. He couldn’t remember the last time he properly ate. The manor wasn’t comforting enough with the little assassin roaming around for him to get any shut eye, and how could Tim be sure he wasn’t going to poison his food?

Sleeping in safe houses seemed the smarter move, even when they weren’t really safe at all, judging by the ‘gifts’ that kept appearing every time he turned his back. Food - sealed and untempered with - files on whatever case he was working on, a brand of turkish coffee that he would gladly down even if it contained poison…

Flowers, hundreds of them, all white in color, tiny red ribbons tying their stems.

Tim shivered at the meaning, but no longer minded the feeling of eyes on him while he slept. Looking for hidden cameras was too much effort to be worth it, as long as there were none in the bathroom and his walk in closet. He couldn’t care less, these days.

----.----

Jason tried to kill him. Again. In the middle of a Pit Episode, even after all Tim had done to help him, to mend their relationship.

Damian was even worse, abusing Tim any way he could, any time he got the chance to get away with it. And it was a startlingly large amount of times, considering their family should be more attentive to attempted murder. None of Tim's effort to bond ever bore fruit.

But he's still convinced they are his soulmates, so he's gotta be patient. They have to be.

Because Dick is his soulmate, and they share a wrist.

Because Dick...

----.----

Dick betrayed him. In the worst possible way, in the most vulnerable moment of his life. When Tim needed him the most.

Jason tried to kill him.

Damian tried to kill him.

Dick betrayed him (which was, arguably, worse).

Dick was his soulmate. Jason was his soulmate. Damian was his soulmate.

They had to be.

----.----

His quest for Batman would’ve been a lonely affair, if not for the honeyed voice whispering in his ear. The silent eyes he felt on his skin wherever he went, more heavy than his three assassin escorts’ stares.

What a crazy world it was, where Tim’s nemesis believed in him, while his first soulmate, the one he loved almost his entire life, claimed delusion. Where his nemesis sent his people to keep him alive, to keep others out of his way, while his other two sought his death.

What a crazy world indeed.

----.----

-I think we need to talk, Timothy. About this bond we share.

-I’m listening.

Timothy, he said, but it didn’t sound like his name at all.

In his mind, it echoed something scary, something that made him shiver and tense.

It sounded like Mine.

----.----

Ra's al Ghul was probably his soulmate.

He's gotta be. Because there's no way Tim's fated to love three people that are just going to break his heart again and again and again.

When he goes to the League for help looking for Bruce, he steels himself in place when Ra's’ voice in his ear makes him want to flinch. He grits his teeth at the viper like words murmured in soft tones. Makes himself accept when Ra's offers to train him in the ninja arts after he successfully brought his mentor back. Clenches his fists when he's asked to dinner in a dimly lit French restaurant.

Ra's didn't retaliate when Tim blew up half his bases. He kept giving Tim pointers and praises. Seeking his company.

So he breathes in.

He forgave Damian for being a killer, Jason for being one, too. He surely can find it in himself to forgive his actual soulmate for being a criminal.

In time.

Right?

...Right?

----.----

Something dark and victorious twists in Ra’s chest when the Detective doesn’t flinch away from his touch, and silently accepts the white rose and red ribbon he presents before guiding him deep into the restaurant. There’s acceptance in Timothy’s eyes, reluctant but hopeful, even if he stirs away from any ‘dangerous’ topics of conversation and very firmly drops a drug test pill in his glass of water the second the waitress turns her back on them.

Ra’s doesn’t comment on it, merely mirrors the act on his own wine (one could never be too sure, not when an enemy as interesting as this is seated across from him) before raising it for a toast. Not that the Detective was aware of the reason.

He’s got a lot to celebrate.

Deceiving this one wasn’t easy, after all.

----.----

Later that night, alone in his room, Tim turns in the bed, his back to the cameras on the far end of the room. The movement is slow, lazy, following his usual sleeping patterns. A clumsy hand pats the mattress, blindly looking for a pillow and dragging it to his chest, face hidden by its softness. He goes lax again, peaceful and oblivious to the world around him to any lingering eye.

Once he’s sure there’s no way anyone could see him, Tim lets a slow, dangerous smile creep on his face, his heartbeat thundering in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins, feeling so alive it’s almost painful after all the numbness.

Ra’s was looking so smug, like the cat that got the canary. Oh, he tried to hide it, but Tim had made it his life's mission since he was twelve to understand the man to his truest essence, to be able to read him as one would a book, and practice had taught him how to play him like a cheap kazoo.

He probably shouldn’t smile, safe as he is in hiding his face in the pillow, but he can’t help it.

Deceiving Ra’s, soulmate or not, wasn’t easy.

#Tim Drake #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #bruce wayne #ra's al ghul #Ra's is creepy #but he's smart about it #OR IS HE #Young Justice #Timdick #Jaytim #damitim #ra'stim #soulmates au #nemesis au #which one is each though #my writting

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miss-choco-chips · 5 years ago

Text

Home

Four times Tim just wanted to go home, and one time he’s actually there.

( @animemangasoul I think you’ll like this one)

(I was listening to Home by Machine Gun Kelly X Ambassadors & Bebe Rexha while I wrote this. Might have cried a little. I regret nothing)

----.----

His mom is holding his hand, a rare occurrence. Were he in a more… stable state, he’d squeeze the moment for all it’s worth.

But the coldness of fear had his heart in a ice-like grip, and the scenery around them did little to appease him. Nothing, not even the warmth of being held, could keep him from shaking.

-I want to go home -he whispers in his mother’s ear when she picks him up in her arms. Safe against her body, he thinks he can feel his heart melting a bit around the edges where panic had frozen him over.

Mom tightened her hold, eyes leaving the crying kid and his dead parents for the first time in a long time. He feels how one of her hands drops its place under his leg to pat his back, more comforting than he ever thought she capable of.

-Yes, we are leaving now. Jack? Bring the car over, we’ll wait here.

She doesn’t lower him until they are back at the manor. Then, his parents retire to their rooms, both to rest and prepare for their trip to the Bahamas the following morning.

Tim shivers all night long, yearning for the warmth he was too distracted to appreciate a few hours ago, back at the circus.

This wasn't what he meant, when he asked to go home. He just wanted to feel safe.

----.----

This… wasn’t what he expected. To being caught, that is. Specially by his hero.

Jason (Robin, call him Robin, don’t you dare slip up, he can’t know you know!) is looking down at him, hands on his hips. He’s doing his best to look stern, but the short shorts, pixie boots and unconscious thug at his back ruin the effect of his glare.

Tim, camera held tightly as it’s been for the last couple of minute since the man came out of the shadows to try and steal it from him, distractedly thinks Batman should get on that, teach Robin his famous loom. He’s feeling starstruck, more than fearful.

-It’s too late for a squirt like you to be out. Streets are dangerous, no’ne told you? Specially ‘is parts o’the city -the young vigilante drawled, accent thicker than Tim recalled from back at the gala when their parents introduced them in passing. Not that Jason would remember.

-I… I’m not a squirt, I’m ten -he finally blurts out, wishing he could smack himself the second the words leave his mouth.

-Children should be on bed at this time.

He does his best to calm his erratic heart, and canalizes all the sass on his pint sized body to arch an eyebrow- Hypocrite much?

Robin growls, but Tim can tell he’s doing his best to hide a smile.

-I can leave you here, you know.

He knows Jason is bluffing, looking for a reaction, but the mere idea still makes his barely calming heart kick into overdrive again. The scare of a few minutes ago was too fresh on his mind. He already knows he won’t be going out again soon, not until he could plan a new route to photograph his idols while traveling only by rooftop, to best avoid the scum of the city.

-No, wait… please -he moves forward, hand taking a handful of cape, as if that could stop the vigilante if he actually was planning to leave.

Jason took the chance to wrap him on it like a little blanket, picking him up in his arms like a baby.

-Don’t worry, shortstack. I’m taking you home so I can be sure y’er actually following your bedtime.

Feeling a little braver in his hero’s arms, he fired back- Don’t have any.

-Whatever, you lil liar.

-It’s true. You can ask my parents… that’s it, if you’re willing to go into my house for a chat. Masks are in bad taste though, you’ll have to take yours off.

Truthfully, both his parents are away on business. Not that he needed to know about the bluff.

This time, he didn’t bother to hide his amusement, letting his barking laughter come out.

-You little shit. I’m not giving you my secret that easy.

Tim just shrugs, painting his most innocent smile. It’s difficult to keep it in place when Jason asks for directions, and then drops him at his bedroom’s window.

The giddiness of meeting his hero can’t quench his disappointment when he watches Jason’s back as he leaves.

A little, childish part of himself had believed, hoped (with all the innocence his heart had left), that when Jason said ‘take you home’, he was talking about his own.

----.----

He’s training as hard as possible. His body, shaped by the multiple teachers he hired through the years, hurts in a way he never thought possible, and has been like that ever since he first went to the training mats to face Bruce.

He knows the pain is necessary, what he learns there could be the difference between life or death (his eyes never fail to go to Jason’s suit, his altar, where he, as his whorshipper, would always go ask for strength and courage), but it's hard to remember his purpose for being there when he goes to bed each night with aching limbs.

Still, he endures.

This last week has been both harder than any other, and the best he’s ever had. The first, because a full on out gang war had forced him, Dick and Bruce to work overtime, going out every night for twice their usual hours (thank god for spring break). The second, because to save time and strength, he’d been allowed to stay the night at the manor with them.

He can’t believe how nice it is to have breakfast with someone. Sure, they have it at like three pm, but still. The pained body was so, so worth this.

When they caught their last perps, all tied up and pretty for the GCPD, Tim was simultaneously absolutely beat and the happiest he’s been.

Batman puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, saying ‘let’s go home, Robin’, and he thinks for a moment he’s dreaming again.

He actually sleeps a bit, on the Batmobile trip. Beyond tired, feels his body being raised and then lowered again in a soft surface, something warm over his chest, and then lights out again.

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s at Drake Manor. The breakfast table is empty, the hallways colder than he remembered, and he wishes last night had actually been a dream. It would hurt less, if it had been all in his imagination; instead, he has to live with the knowledge of being so close, yet so far.

Not for the first time, he wishes ‘home’ were a different place.

----.----

He sighs, dropping his suitcase uncaringly. Anything important is on his phone anyway, who gives a fuck. Certainly not an overworked seventeen year old kid who’s just getting back after a long day.

The place was clean, spacious and with a modern decoration style he kinda likes. The mechanic fishes certainly give it a nice touch, and the underground nerd cave he built for himself is the cherry on top- bottom, whatever.

It’s a nice house. A place he made for himself, to come back to. With scanners that automatically alert him if some sneaky ninja plants a bug, or a snoopy family member was sniffing around for his toys. He knows everything that happens here, in this little kingdom he built from scratch.

Of course, there are some itty bitty problems with it. Not the layout itself, that one was a dream came true, and no security issue either: all of Ra’s thwarted attempts at having his people breaking in confirmed how tight it was.

But, for some reason, the thermostat didn’t seem to work. It was always way too cold.

The soundproof walls were good at keeping his secrets under wraps, but they also made it seem so unnaturally quiet, it gave him the creeps.

No table in sight. Not that he needed one, he shrugs. Lunch he eats outside, at the office. Dinner is a quick thing, a sandwich while he gets ready for patrol or some other snack while he types away at his computer. Breakfast… he doesn’t know why, but he never feels right when eating it, so he skips it more often than not.

Sighing again, he falls face first into his absurdly pricey couch. Blindly patting the coffee table until he finds the blanket he always keeps there, he thinks about taking a lil nap. He didn’t sleep last night (or the one before that), so it feels like he’s earned this break.

Decision made, Tim takes his phone out of the secret pocket in his coat and selects the app that makes background noise. He always sleeps better with it.

Yeah. This is a nice, comfortable place.

Too bad it’s not home.

-I just want to go home -he whispers to himself before letting unconsciousness claim him.

If asked, he’d said the break in his voice was a yawn and not a sob.

----.----

When he wakes up, it’s to noise all around him. That alone puts him on guard so fast he would have pulled a muscle, if he were anyone else. As a Bat-trained vigilante though, he just tensed before opening his eyes to analyze his surroundings.

This… wasn’t his place, where he distinctly remembers falling asleep, face down on his couch.

This was Titans Tower. Was he losing track of time? Had he been on a fight and got hit on the head?

-Hey, you’re awake -Kon’s head poked out of the kitchen area, smiling as he floated all the way to where Tim was lying, on the living room’s couch.

The sight of his friend was enough to loosen his muscles. Still unsure but immediately comfortable he sat up straight and looked around. He could hear Bart and Cassie bickering on the background, probably the kitchen, Greta’s laughter coming to him from the same place, and those were Anita’s shoes and Cissie’s backpack near the elevator.

The first two and Kon, he could get. They were all Titans. But the three girls? They were retired, so what…

-Hey, boy wonder, let your brain take a break. I can hear you thinking from here and it’s giving me a headache -the super joked, landing by Tim’s side and poking his forehead lightly.

-That’s because you never think, you aren’t used to it -he fires back automatically. Then, a slow blink- What are the girls doing here? What am I doing here? Last thing I remember I was… at the Perch. Sleeping.

-Yeah, and what a deep sleep that was. Been pulling all nighters, haven’t you? -his best friend shook his head, beyond giving Tim a disappointed look. They knew each other way too much to be surprised by their respective bad habits- you didn’t even flinch when I wrapped you up in TTK and flew you here. And about the girls, I told Cassie and Bart I was gonna pick you up, and they decided to make a thing out of this and went to bring them here, just to hang out. Like back in the days, you know?

The mention of their Young Justice times never failed to give Tim a heartache, but this time it just made him feel warm.

He tried to look stern, but the smile he could feel growing on his lips against his will probably ruined it.

-But why did you? Bring me here, I mean.

Kon tilted his head, visibly confused.

-What do you mean? I heard you. You said you wanted to go home.

Something deep and frozen inside him abruptly melted, like it was hit by a flamethrower. The intensity brought tears to his eyes, body shaking uncontrollably as he bent over himself, hands clutching the opposite arm tightly, as if trying to hold himself in one piece.

Kon’s arms were around him in an instant, worried shouts piercing his ears as he plastered the smaller vigilante to his chest, unthinkingly helping him keep his broken pieces together. The warmth from his best friend’s body served as a welder, and Tim could finally breathe without the fear of breaking apart.

-Tim? Fuck, what’s wrong? Are you okay?! Here, dude, I got you.

-Kon? What is i- fuck, what did you do? Hey, Tim!

-Rob? Oh my god he’s crying, why is he crying!

The voices came closer, surrounding him from all directions as multiple hands touched him in an attempt to comfort.

It was too much, too warm, too bright.

He hoped it’d never end.

-I just…

Everyone stopped talking. His voice was broken by sobs, but he sounded happier than they had ever heard him.

-I’m just happy I’m finally home.

#Tim Drake #Young Justice #batfamily #my writting #kon el kent #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #Greta Hayes #Cissie King-Jones #Anita #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Jason todd #NO EDIT #I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING I FEEL LIKE I WAS POSSESED YOU GUYS

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miss-choco-chips · 5 years ago

Text

Soul shards part 2

This isn’t edited in the slightest folks. Wrote this in a LONG car ride and I’m beat. Tumblr was being difficult and wouldn’t let me copy an paste so I had to copy every individual paragraph, so there might be some mistakes.

Shoutout to @sideeffectsofwriting who suggested damitim and kicked the muse into motion and @the-quiet-carrotcake who let me cry about this on chat.

.-.-.-

He needed to do what not even the Batman could achieve.

He would bring Drake back.

-.-.-.-

11 - 16

Damian’s first gifted soulshard came from his mother, when he turned five. It was a beautiful orange-red dagger, with flecks of gold here and there, and he wanted to hold it more than anything in the world.

Then his mother put it in his hand, closed his fingers around it and held a kitten by the scruff and hind legs in front of him, as an offering. An order. A mission. And, once it was carried, the slightest hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

Those were the feelings the dagger was imbued with; expectation, and pride. Not for who he was, but for what he did. A heavy weight, and a cold one, right until the moment the mission was complete; after that, a short-lived warmth crept up his arm, the starting point the dagger in his hand.

Or maybe it was the kitten’s blood what chased the cold (and his sleep) away. It should have been comforting.

It wasn’t.

When Grayson chose him as his Robin, he sealed the deal by giving Damian an R shaped soul shard in the form of a brooch. It should have been an ecstatic moment for him, his second ever soul shard being gifted to him by his Batman.

It wasn’t.

While warmer and lighter than his dagger, it felt… off. Their bond was just growing then, no trust nor love giving shape to the soul given away. Instead, Damian was presented with Grayson’s feelings of responsibility (to the city), despair (because they both have just lost their father) and reluctant resignation (because even when Grayson choose him, it was obviously not what he wanted, it couldn’t be, not when there was already a Robin fully indoctrinated in The Mission perfectly available and… more loved), as well as the barest hint of hopeful fondness.

He doesn’t hold it against him; that was just their beginning, and it was the gesture what was important, a gift from the soul that Damian hadn’t yet earned, a trust at giving himself away to the child he had just decided to take under his wing. Were Grayson to give him a new soul shard, he was sure the feelings wouldn’t be so harsh now that they had formed and nurtured this bond between them. Still, he treasured his brooch for what it was: a chance to prove himself, a chance at a home.

Drake’s soul (not a shard, not a piece, but the remainings of his actual soul; his core) was an entirely new phenomenon. The moment he received it, clenched it in his hands for the first time, it was imbued with a rage and contempt that didn’t surprise him, as those were the grounds of their relationship. But, with every passing minute, the feeling just… calmed down, like… forgiveness? Acceptance? It was like a pat on the back after a hard patrol with Grayson, after he made a mistake and the man would just sigh and tell him ‘do better next time, but let’s just put this behind us’. But… from Drake?

It- that was- there weren’t actual words to explain it. Damian had never heard of it, of a change on the emotions inside the soul, but, he supposes, this wasn’t something Drake had sharded with an idea in mind, this wasn’t a love confession or a methaporical friendly hug. Drake had just… given himself away, entirely.

Damian wasn’t sure what it meant, but the mystery of that pushed him relentlessly to the batcave, to the monitors where he would watch and rewatch old footage of Drake’s training, read old reports, dig as deep as he could in search of information that might clear things up for him.

That might explain the clench in his heart when he held the tiny soul.

.-.-.-.

He is missing.

Bruce can’t process it at first. He has every camera, every metahuman, every genius hero at his disposal… and nothing. No one could find Tim, and he’s been gone for over a week. Seven days and twelve hours, if he was counting. Which he was, because seeing the pretty ice blue watch on his wrist, warm with admiration, respect and adoration, slowly turning cold and red and black was high on the list of the scariest moments of his life.

He was holding his son’s soul, soon it wouldn’t feel any different than the Rolex he might wear for a charity.

It terrified him.

The only piece of Tim’s soul he could find (and it had taken him a while, to track down everyone Tim ever gave a shard to, even going so far as to dig Janet and Jack’s graves, because there were so many pieces; too many, although his Titans friends had flat out rejected his request to give them to him) to remain icy blue was Damian’s. Which would be fantastic for testing, for figuring out what was wrong, maybe even for tracking Tim down… If Damian weren’t so dead set on keeping it in his direct line of sight, on the little leather pouch by his hip or dangling from his neck.

The twelve year old had proven willing to stab any hand that tried to take his soul shard away, accepting only those tests that were safe and could be made in front of his eyes.

-We could try to, like… mesh my piece of soul with Damian’s? -had suggested Dick, once, earlier on the week.

-And how, pray tell, would you do it? Drake himself is the one that shaped your necklace. This are his soul shards, no one but him can bend them to their will.

-I mean… Cass’s father, Cain, he made dents and bumps in her soul, so it’s not like its impossible…

-…after years of abuse, from which her soul has yet to recover! Of all the stupid/!

Dick, on very little sleep and with worry and guilt battling it out inside his heart, rolled his eyes at Damian’s objections.

-We won’t hurt him for the hell of it, but he could be in danger, or lost, or who knows what! There’s little to no precedent about soulless people. Since when do you care so much about Tim’s wellbeing, anyway?

-And since when do you *not*?

That had ended the argument quickly. Guilt had won in Dick. Damian’s gifted little piece of soul remained at it’s pouch. And Tim was still missing.

Bruce wanted to pull at his hair, yell and throw fists. He did none of these. Damian needed him. He had already failed one son.

.-.-.-.

12 - 17

Life goes on, after a tragedy. And this tragedy in particular was a silent one; there was no blood, no screaming, no tears. Just someone that left it all behind and disappeared on the wind. And, as much as the Bats wanted to find him, Tim going on a solo trip wasn’t alarming enough for them to ignore the day to day dangers of Gotham, the multiverse threats, the alien invasions. As concerning as multiple soul shards changing color and losing emotion had been, the fact remained that it… just wasn’t priority.

Timothy could look after himself; the civilians of Gotham and the world at large couldn’t. At least, that was what father said.

Damian was of a different mind.

He noticed it at first during a Justice League meeting. He had taken to playing around with the little ice blue ball when lost in thought, or was nervous, a habit developed after hours, days and months sitting by the cave’s monitors studying his predecessor.

So there he was, idly rolling it between his fingers, careful to not drop it, when he catches sight of Superboy…

(The Titans were a mess, Wonder Girl, SB and Impulse running around like headless chickens, dropping everything, no matter how mission-important, at the slightest mention of anything Red Robin related, recruiting the help of old fiends from their Young Justice days, hurting so much not even him, usually indifferent to his peers’ drama, could remain untouched by their pain)

…being scolded by Superman. Which, would normally not even phase Damian, impartial about the clone outside of his relationship with Drake as he was.

But. But. When Superman layed a condescending hand on Kon El’s shoulder, something spiked inside Damian, a sudden and strong desire to slap that hand away, to growl at the man, to protect his/

…his best friend?

That thought it’s what gives him pause, stops him mid step, where he was unthinkingly approaching the aliens.

Those weren’t his feelings, but Drake’s.

At the realization, the little soul in his hand glowed and warmed and almost jumped right out of it. It seemed to say ‘finally’.

Damian couldn’t breath.

.-.-.-.

He kept quiet about this new knowledge, but it nagged at him. He had to test this out.

He held the small soul while watching Grayson train by the Cave’s trapeze. Rolled it between fingers with little to no trouble while covertly listening to Cain and Brown tease each other. Made a protective fist around it when he stumbled across Red Hood during patrol, catching the -now reformed- antiheroe mid flight.

Admiration and yearning (teach me, choose me, love me).

Fondness and familiarity (bond with me, laugh with me, stand by me).

Trepidation and want (please look at me, please stop hating me, please let me watchadmirelove you).

Those weren’t his feelings, so. Confirmed then. Holding Drake’s soul, he apparently had an open door to the man’s feelings. An insight to the deepest parts of him.

Weeks into his discovery, he learned a few things. For example, how annoyingly emotional the young man was. Did Drake always feel everything this intensely? It was exhausting, and Damian at least had the option to put the soul away at it’s pouch, stopping the flow of emotions. Drake… well, he did leave it behind, after all.

Which made him wonder, if he had Drake’s emotions at hand, what did it leave his predecessor with?

.-.-.-.-.-.

13 - 18

It pained Damian to admit this, but Drake was… good. Too good. Unbelievable so, for someone that started his formal training way later in life than Damian.

The footage in front of him was one he had viewed already dozens of times, and he still couldn’t believe his eyes. A gift requested to his mother, footage from the Cradle, about two years before.

At first, Damian had just wanted to uncover the mystery of Drake’s time away during Father’s absence. What happened during those months, to drive one like his Gradfather from mild admiration to almost obsessive, possessive desire? What elevated the, by the time, teenager to a spot previously occupied by none other than The Batman, and even beyond?

His in into the League allowed him access to the answer. And he understood. The mixture of recklessly brave plans, creatively executed acrobatics, heart-stopping genius and iron clad morals. Fighting against the Spiders, protecting the innocent at his back, all the while under tight schedule on his plan to land an unprecedented hard blow to the League.

It was breathtaking. The young detective, that unmasked the man many believed was no more than a myth, the novice hero that when told ‘no’ started his own team of fighters, that while no one else thought it possible defied Death itself for the life of his adoptive father. Barely older than Damian himself, with half his years of training, and still so far away. Leagues ahead of him.

Out of his reach…

A grimace, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest and then Damian was cracking his knuckles and typing away at the computer. If his Grandfather viewed Drake above Father, then maybe Damian was going about this the wrong way, in his quest to surpass every Robin before him. He needed to succeed where even Father had failed, reaching to a step below Drake instead of the entire flight of stairs he had ahead of him.

…but not for long.

He needed to do what not even the Batman could achieve.

He would bring Drake back.

.-.-.-.-.

It takes some time. He studies for weeks under Gordon, shadows Cyborg’s steps for a while, even declines patrol once or twice claiming a stomachache when he feels he’s close to a clue. Has the Titans permanently hacked (props of connecting from the Batcave’s computer, no one questioned the backdoor on their system, assumed it was Batman checking on them) and an alert programmed on his phone for every time some reporter catches sight of the Drake-Wayne heir (none so far, but, like a voice that sounded like Grayson singsonged, cover all your bases).

And even after all of that, it was still Drake himself that pointed him in the right direction.

Damian was idly scrolling down some online headlines, mind numb with tiredness barely paying attention to the titles, when the little soul between his forefinger and thumb gave him a spark, so sudden it was like an electric shock, sapping him out of it and forcing his attention to the article on screen.

Serial killer known as The Gardener found tied in the front lawn of his supposed next victims, after seven months evading the Parisian police force. Family claims they never saw nor heard anything until the morning, when the father was about to head for work and stumbled across the handcuffed man, hand clutching his signature weapon, unconscious and still bleeding from, what the police assumes, was a short lived fight…

The soul pulsed again. Disgust, rage, adrenaline… pride, vindictive pride. The same emotions that soared through him when a would be rapist fell to his sword during patrol.

Quick eyes scanning through the article, nothing pointing towards a vigilante, no pattern that he could see pointing to his missing predecessor. And still, Damian knew.

Energy renewed, he scanned through older news, titles. Nothing sparked the soul, until a thwarted robbery on Scotland gave him pause. Again, the article itself was generic, no common points except the mystery of whoever stopped the crime from happening, but… his gut, and Drake’s gut, they were both screaming at him.

This was him. What was he doing on Paris? Was he still there? Two articles, separated by a few weeks, was more of a clue than anyone had found this far, but it was still nothing. And the last one, with the Serial Killer, was from two days ago. Even if he told Father and he dispatched a velocist or super, it’d still be too late. Drake wouldn’t have been able to evade them this long if he iddled long somewhere. Sighing tiredly he fell back into the chair, raising the little soul so it was eye level.

After all this time, after all his training, after all of father’s efforts to track his wayward son, it was proved only Drake could find Drake. A little, sleep deprived smile broke his scowl.

He was too tired to feel frustration.

Not too much for admiration, though.

.-.-.-.-.

That same night, oceans away, a slim figure dealt the finishing blow to some wannabe gangsters on a upper class Venetian neighbour. They had been armed, but only the slightest of scratches decorated his arm. The other guys… weren’t so lucky. They’d be lucky if their broken ribs didn’t pierce a lung.

The scared girls that he saved from being jumped (or worse) rushed forward once their attackers hit the ground, sobbing between their heartfelt thanks and praises. Trembling hands reaching for his cap-less back, the slippery material of his dark shirt slipping from their fingers. Still, he carefully moved out of range and tonelessly told them to call for the police, letting them comfort each other and waiting only until he could hear the sirens approaching. Then, he was gone, lost to the night that had spited him out to fight the treath minutes before.

On the back of his mind, something told him he should be annoyed. He had been good to keep himself out of the media’s attention, dealing with crimes where no one would be able to pinpoint exactly who had been their saviour, or how had they been spared from the danger. Like the Parisian family. Now that was a clean work. Found the killer, guessed his next target and caught him just before the crime. In, fight, out. Easy, untraceable.

Two scared girls might not have the clearest memories of their traumatic attack, but ‘young, black clothed man fights off gangsters with a staff’ would surely make the headlines, which meant hailing ass as far from here as possible before anyone could trace this back to him.

People tracking him raised in his gut… the closest thing to emotions he had nowadays (something he hadn’t been bothered with for years now), namely annoyance. He had a goal in mind, rules he played by, things to avoid. Having all that endangered was troublesome, and even worse was how inevitable it was. He couldn’t exactly ignore the crying girls, not because he cared, but his body always moved on its own on situations like this, personal preferences overrode by muscle memory.

How inconvenient.

And speaking of…

He barely nodded in acknowledgement when a shadowed figure fell into step besides him, keeping up on his sprint from rooftop to rooftop.

-My Master wishes to extend an invitation to dinner. He demands your company.

Not Pru then, but not so different from what he expected.

He hummed, for show more than anything else, eyeing the leather pouch by the man’s hip. A Soul Carrier, nothing flashy but firmly attached. Classic League.

The shadow flinched. They all did. Something in his lack of soul scared them shitless when he payed attention to theirs, as if he would snatch them and steal away with it.

Ha. Please. He didn’t even want his own soul back, why in hell would he take theirs? He’d never feel lighter before.

And even if sometimes the emptiness inside made him eye with attention the knife he carried on his boot as a last resort, those moments were few and easily forgotten.

-Depends. Is he ready to pay for the pleasure of it? It’s been a while, I’m on need of cash and resources, so my fee has gone up.

A moment of silence while the shadow listened on his earpiece for his answer. Then, a nod.

-Okay then. Tell him to send me directions to the place once I’m out of this country. And that if he wants me to wear something pretty, he better chose a nice, camera-less place. Also, if he doesn’t keep his hands to himself, he’ll need one of those shiny green pools of his to regrow a few fingers.

.-.-.-.-.

14 - 19

Todd’s emergency beacon called from Tokyo, interrupting their post patrol debrief. Father had programmed all their distress signals so they would always come through, no matter what else was doing on or what Do not Disturb protocols he might have. Nothing would get in the way to saving his sons ever again.

When they answered, tense and (in Damian’s case, reluctantly) worried, it was to the sounds of heavy breathing and clang of metal against metal. A fight.

-/ing hell! Fuck! Goddamned little/ anyone copy me?!

Father, cowless but every bit the Batman, pressed a finger against the keyboard and dropped his voice am octave.

-Red Hood, here cave, we copy you. What’s the situation?

The sounds of fighting never stopped, and whatever could keep Hood on his toes like this and forced him to call for help was enough to have Damian reaching for his Soul Carrier, where two different (in size and colorthen) spheres guarded each other. It was a habit he needed to train himself out of, but for now, a needed comfort.

-I /shit shit SHIT, YOU LITTLE FUCKER/ I found the bastard! Tim!

A needle dropping could be heard in the following silence. Cain steps as she approached the batconputer could be heard and that was something.

The smallest of the souls in his carrier pulsed at the sight of Brown’s distress as she clutched Black Bat’s hand, her other going to the almost completely red locket hanging from her neck. If it followed the pattern of both Grayson and Father, it would soon turn dark.

(Unlike the clone and velocist, those two’s soul shards still retained the icy blue color, and Damian couldn’t help but think it had something to do with the fact that the people that had betrayed Drake the worst were the ones that were losing their connection to him first; Cain’s own compass was still mostly blue)

Damian’s own soul basically jumped to his hand at the implication of what Todd was saying (he ignored the flash of disappointment that he wasn’t the one to find Drake, the little spark of something on the icy blue little ball that still reacted to that idiotic Todd…).

Grayson was the one that basically pushed father out of the way, so he could lean over the keyboard, as if that would make him be heard clearer, hand fondling with the chain around his neck that was Drake ’s first shard, both to be created and to lose it’s warmth.

-A-are you sure? Our Timmy?

-You have eyes on him? -demanded father as he typed away, faster than Damian ever remembered seeing, probably sending some kind of message to the Justice League for assistance.

-Damn right I’m sure, stumbled across him during my mission here, don’t know anyone as annoying/ FUCK can’t you see I’m on the phone ya lil shit?! I can do you one better than eyes on the bastard, B, I’ll put my hands around his weasly lil neck/!

A window popped on the Cave monitor (of course Gordon was eavesdropping) as Oracle traced the call and hacked the street camera closest to Todd’s location.

The figure was all in black, taller and leaner than Damian remembered. Or was that because he spent so much time watching footage of his time as Robin?

Drake was smaller then, baby faced and bird-boned. A child. Somewhere along the line, lost in studying his formative years, Damian had forgot the fact that he was a man, now.

He certainly looked the part, now. Graceful as fought Hood off, tough a lot more brutal, if Hood’s grunts of pain everyone the shiny staff made contact could be believed. He seemed in a hurry, too, judging by his almost too fast to be seen movements.

The fight moved a little (likely Hood’s doing), and they shifted just enough for them to see, in the grainy quality of the camera, a second of Drake’s face before before he seemed to sense that he was being watched.

Something was thrown the camera’s way, a little gadget, and everything turned black. The only connection the Cave had to Drake now was the still going sounds of fighting.

-Hood, tell him to stop! We don’t mean him any harm/

-I do, the little fucker broke my left wrist! Imma gonna show him!

-Hood! -now not only Grayson, but Brown too, chided.

-Just stall him -commanded Father- Clark is on his way.

-Easy for you to say! Whatever he’s being doing this last few years, it gave him a hell of a boost. I can barely/

Silence. Not just Hood shutting up, but no more breaths, no more metallic clang. The line had been cut, something that shouldn’t been possible after all the upgrades father made to their comms.

By the time Superman arrived to Gotham, an hour had passed, and not even Gordon could re install the connection to either the street camera nor the comm. Not that it would do any good: Hood was unconscious and brutally beated up, and not even a full scan of the city by various metas gave them any hint of Drake ’s location.

The icy blue soul pulsed with guilt at hood’s state, but also an undeniable pride at the fact that Drake got away.

Damian felt like throwing it against a wall. Instead, he cradled it in his hands, against his chest, as he went to sleep that night.

He dreamed of grainy camera footage, the face in the recording handsome and lethal, the coldness on pretty eyes replaced by the emotional icy blue of his soul.

.-.-.-.-.

He woke up in the morning and laid on bed for a while.

Ignorant on the emotional side of things as Grayson might believe him, Damian wasn’t about to lie to himself.

There was no denying the clenching on his gut when the camera displayed the video of the dark figure fighting, the disappointment when Hood failed to bring Drake home, the spark of annoyance at the fact that the tiny soul still reacted to the second Robin, the flash of white warmth that crept up him when he saw the results of Drake’s power on Hood’s battle wounds.

The craving pumping his heart was like nothing he ever felt before.

It was kinda like seeing his mother holding her soul shard his way, like Grayson hands fastening the R brooch on his cape for the first time, like giving Father a ring and Nightwing a bracelet, nervous in a way that was unbecoming to someone of the Al Ghul’s household.

It was wanting to receive and to be accepted.

It was even more than that.

It was holding Drake’s entire soul in his hand, small and battered as it was, and thinking ’I’ll fix this’. It was masterfully twirling it in his hand, easy from practice, letting Drake's emotions wash over him, his fierce protectiveness over his friends, his honest fondness over the family, the growing approval every time Damian cracked a case or figured out a mystery on his own.

It wasn’t Drake himself, but at the same time it was.

Damian dropped his head back into the pillow and raised the hand holding the tiny soul, his own gold, green and blue one laying on the mattress by his hip. It had tiny specs of ice blue on it, influenced against his will by the soul that shared the soul carrier with for so long now, not too different from the way his mother’s orange red soul had some dark blue hues dancing near it’s core, or how Pennyworth’s silver one had the barest hints of yellow, which the butler once told him were remnants of his first love.

He never would admit to be emulating Todd, but in that moment, he couldn’t help it.

-Fuck.

#Soul shards #soul shards au #tim drake #damian Wayne #the bats #it's a pain to tag everyone but they are all mentioned #this was a BITCH to publish tumblr wouldn't let me copy paste everything from my docs so i had to do paragraph by paragraph #pre damitim i guess?#soulless tim #Ra's is there for a sec not in person but by creepiness factor #Damian is developing a crush how cute baby assassin #i did this during a eight hours car ride this isn't edited in the slightest #my writing #oh yeah #tw: animal cruelty #at the beggining though but still #forgot to tag before sorry

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awhitehead17 · 6 years ago

Text

Tiny Tim (part ten)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten

Chapter Summary: Disney World part two

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

Tim scribbles messily on the piece of paper in front of him. The café they were at offers free colouring sheets and crayons to kids and Kon being Kon decides to get some for Tim. Tim bets it was mainly just for himself because at the moment Kon looks like he’s having a lot more fun with the colouring than he is.

“You know you’re supposed to colour in the lines right Tim?” Conner comments to him when he looks up from his own paper.

Just to spite him Tim grabs another crayon and scribbles wildly over the paper. Once he was done he looks back up at Kon and gives him an innocent looking smile, “Whoops.”

Kon gives him a look, one that says really? and in retaliation Tim sticks his tongue out at him and looks back at his bit of paper. They’ve been sat at the café for a good 10 minutes already and it’s another 5 before someone shows up.

“Conner!”

Both him and Kon turn around to the name call, they find Jon heading their way while dragging Damian behind him. Conner smiles at him once he reaches the table, “Hey kid, how’s your day been so far?”

“Look!” Jon shoves a Superman plushie in Kon’s face, “I won this!”

Kon shoves it out of his face, “Yeah? Did you cheat?”

Jon pouts at him, “No I did not! Damian, tell him I didn’t cheat.”

“Tt, despite what it looked like and what he is capable doing, Kent did not cheat.”

“Thank you, see Conner.” Jon says wearing a smug smile.

Kon smiles and shakes his head, “Whatever kid. What else you been up to?”

Jon’s normal excited grin appears back on his face and he enthusiastically tells Kon about his and Damian’s day. Tim was listening but he moves his attention away from the two supers when he feels a presence stand next to him. He looks up to find Damian looking at his ‘colouring’.

“Drake do you not know how to colour? You keep inside the lines, it is not that hard of a concept to grasp, but then again a simple-minded creature like you would find that hard to understand.” Damian says to him, voice full of disgust.

Tim narrows his eyes up at Damian, god he wishes he was his normal self again just so he can beat him. But no. He was stuck in this four-year-old body and they happen to be out somewhere that was full of random people, it would look and sound weird if a four-year-old started cursing at a teen and calling him all kinds of vulgar names.

Working to keep himself from saying anything Tim settles for glaring at Damian. Of course Damian is undeterred by his look, the teenager simply glares back and it suddenly becomes a glaring contest between them. Tim’s not willing to let the demon spawn beat him, Tim may not be able to fight back physically but at least he can glare to some extent.

He’s unsure how long they spend looking at each other but much to his annoyance Tim brakes eye contact first and that was only because someone jabbed his ribs. He couldn’t help the yelp that escaped his mouth and the sudden jerk of his body. He looks around to find Jason smirking evilly at him. “Jumpy there Timmy?”

“Don’t jab my ribs.” He pouts back at the man. Next to him Damian tuts and walks away, Tim watches him go and as he sits down next to Jon who was now sat on Kon’s other side. Jason also moves and takes a seat on Tim’s unoccupied side. Tim watches as Jason takes in his colouring, an eyebrow goes up on his face and his mouth opens to say something, however he seems to change his mind because he shakes his head and closes his mouth again.

“Come on daddy!”

Tim turns around to find Lian running towards their table. She stops every few feet to make sure that Roy was following behind her. Tim looks at Roy and does a double take, in his arms there’s a very big teddy bear. A huge fluffy brown bear with a red bow tie around his neck. Tim’s pretty sure that it was bigger than him in size and possibly even in weight.

Eventually they get to the table and Lian starts jumping up and down, “Look what we won! Look what we won!”

“Wow.” Kon says looking at the bear with wide eyes as Roy sits it at the table opposite him.

Next to him Jon gasps, “That’s huge! Where did you get it?”

Roy looks at him and smirks, “A shooting game. There was two targets, one side had a little crossbow and the other had a gun, so naturally….”

“Fair enough.” Kon comments still looking at the bear.

“Daddy, can I go play in the play area?” Lian asks looking hopeful from where she was tugging on his t-shirt.

Roy frowns at her before looking around, he finds the children’s soft play area over in the corner of the café and looks back at his daughter, “You can but after you’ve had something eat.”

Lian looks like she wants to argue but a stern look from Roy changes her mind, she nods, “Okay daddy.” She climbs up onto the seats next him and looks around the room with intense curiosity.

Roy leans forward and grabs a menu from the middle of the table and sets it out in front of him, Jon does the same with the second menu and opens it up for him and Damian to look at. He and Kon have already decided what they’ll be having, they decided on it while they waited for the others to arrive.

“Hey, where’s Goldie to?” Jason asks suddenly, he looks at Jon and Damian, “Wasn’t he with you brats?”

“Tim and I saw him in a performing in a parade on the way here, I have to admit I’m curious about how he got there.” Kon says, looking between Jason and his brother.

Jason lets out a snort, “Seriously? A performing in a parade? Typical.”

“Well about two hours ago the three of us bumped into some acrobats who were trying to perfect a move. Dick saw them and offered some help, he showed them how to do it and they offered him a place in the parade because they realised who he was.” Jon explains. “At first he said no because he was with us but then Damian told him to go because it was clear that he wanted to do it but I think that the real reason is so Dick would leave us alone to do whatever we wanted without an adult.”

Silence surrounds the table as they all look at Jon who blushes once he sees everyone looking at him.

“What? It’s true” He says defensively.

Conner frowns at him, “So you’ve spent the last two hours on your own?”

“We do not need a baby sitter clone, we are perfectly capable of looking after ourselves.”

Kon rolls his eyes but lets the comment go. From there Tim ignores the small talk that’s going on around the table, instead he focuses on the paper in front of him while trying to ignore the hurt feeling inside of himself. Dick said that they’ll spend the afternoon together but now that he’s with the parade that’s obviously out of the window. It hurts to know that Dick had apparently forgot about his promise.

“Well I’m not waiting for him to show up, I’m hungry so I’m getting food.” Jason declares standing up from the table, “Join me or not, I don’t care.”

He starts to walk towards the counter where the orders are being taken, Roy gets up and follows him, once they get back Kon, Jon and Damian all get up and do their orders. When they return small talk takes over the table once again and is that way until the food arrives.

Half an hour later all the food they had ordered has now disappeared. Tim enjoyed his food, it was a child’s portion of fries and chicken nuggets in shape of Mickey Mouse. It wasn’t a big meal but it filled him up. What he didn’t enjoy was that Dick still hasn’t shown up and there was no signs of him showing up at all. Kon had tried to console him but Tim brushed him off, he doesn’t really want to hear it.

Tim’s brought out of his head when he hears Lian impatiently ask, “Daddy can I go now? Pleeeeeeaaaasssseeeee.”

Roy puts a thoughtful expression on and takes his time in answering, with every second that passes of him not answering Lian looks like she’s going to explode. After about 10 long seconds he finally nods, “Sure, go ahead, but be careful!”

“Yay!” She exclaims. She immediately starts to climb down from the table, however instead of heading for the children’s play area she runs around the table and grabs Tim’s t-shirt, “Come on Timmy, let’s go play!”

Tim almost falls off the seat he’s on because of her tugging and he has to steady himself by grabbing the table, he looks at her hopeful face and feels slightly guilty when he says, “Uh, I don’t really want to…”

Her face falls in disappointment, “What?”

Tim opens his mouth to say he doesn’t want to play but Jason speaks before he can, “He’s only joking, of course he wants to play!” That’s when hands appear under his arms and pick him up from the seat, they place him on the floor next to Lian, they also remove the cap that’s been sat on his all of this time, “Now you two go have fun okay, we’ll be here for when you want to come back out.”

Tim sends him a betrayed looked while Lian sends him a bright grin, “Thank you Uncle Jay, let’s go Timmy!”

She grabs his hand and drags him towards the play area when they get there Lian lets him go and starts climbing up the foam steps, “Come on! I think the slide is this way!”

Tim watches her disappear up the stairs, he looks back at the table where everyone is to find most of them staring at him with different kinds of smiles on their faces. Jason was wearing an evil smirk and was even holding up his phone with the camera faced at him, Roy was wearing an amused one and Kon was wearing a fond one. Jon and Damian wasn’t looking, both more interested in whatever was in front of them on the table.

“Come on Tim!” He hears from above. He sighs and resigns himself, he isn’t getting out of this, begrudgingly he starts to climb the foam stairs to find where Lian had disappeared to.

30 minutes later Tim was ready to quit. He was tired and wanted to sit down. How did Lian still have so much energy? She was still running around the play area, shouting at Tim to hurry up and even dragging him along. Tim tried to go at her pace but it was hard, this body was not used to pushing itself past it’s limit and now he was super tired and surprisingly wants a nap.

Letting Lian go on ahead up the foam stairs he heads back to the table where the others are. He walks slowly now finding his feet are beginning to hurt. He makes it back to the table and stands behind Kon before leaning against his lower back. Kon jumps slightly from the touch, he turns around to find Tim there and smiles at him, “You okay?”

“How does she have that much energy? She’s like a battery or something.” Tim comments.

Kon laughs at him, “She worn you out has she?”

“Yes.”

That’s when Lian appears once again, “Timmy why did you leave? We still have yet to go in the ball pool.” She whines at him, she leans forward and grabs his hand and starts to pull him away from Kon, “Come on!”

Someone takes pity on Tim and speaks up, “Hey munchkin, why don’t you and I go play in the ball pool. Timmy here needs a rest, you’ve worn him all out.”

Lian let’s go of Tim and turns to Jason, “Yes please, let’s go Uncle Jay.”

Jason gets up and starts to follow Lian towards the children’s play area, but when he gets a few steps away from the table he stops in his tracks and turns back facing the table. After a few seconds he’s moving towards the table, he goes around it until he’s behind Damian and in a quick swift movement he has the teen up and over his shoulder like he’s a sack of potatoes.

“Todd! Put me down this instance!” Damian demands trying to wiggle out of Jason’s grip as the man heads for the children’s play area.

“Come on demon, you could use some fun.”

They hear Lian giggling her head off at the display and even Jon let out a laugh in amusement. Jon gets up from the table and follows them into the play area. Once they have all disappeared from view Tim tugs at Kon’s t-shirt to get his attention again, when the meta looks down Tim raises his arms up in a childlike fashion for Kon to pick him up. Kon’s hands wrap around his waist and lift him up, after a moment Tim’s arranged so his straddling Kon’s thighs and his head is against his chest.

Tim takes the position and leans heavily on Kon, the tiredness taking over his body. It doesn’t help when Kon starts threading his fingers through his hair and lightly massages his head. Tim sighs contently and lets him do it, he doesn’t know why but it feels so nice when it happens and he feels himself drifting off at his motions.

Tim snaps out of his dosing state when another voice speaks up, “Hey guys I am so sorry that I am super late. To be honest I wasn’t even sure if you’d be here at all or not but thankfully you are.”

Tim turns around to see Dick settling in a seat next to Roy, he was looking around obviously trying to find the where the others are. As if reading his mind Roy speaks up, “They’re in the ball pit if you’re wondering. Lian. Jason Damian and Jon.”

Dick smiles, “Ah okay.” Dick then looks over and sees Tim’s sat in Kon’s lap, “Didn’t fancy joining them Timmy?” He asks.

Tim hears, as well as feel, Kon laugh, “Lian’s already worn him out from playing in there for half an hour.”

Dick lets out a laugh after and Tim mumbles a shut up but that seems to encourage the man even more. “If you’ve still got the energy Tim I have a promise to keep, once I’ve had some food we’ll go on a few rides together.”

Tim feels himself smile at his words, he hadn’t forgot after all. Tim nods in agreement and Dick beams at him, “Brilliant! I’m going to get some food.”

By the time Dick had finished eating his food everyone else had returned from the ball pool. Comments were made and laughs were shared throughout it. For the most part Tim dosed on Conner as his body was still recovering from the time he spent running around after Lian.

“Anyway, what are we going to do now that Goldie is here?” Jason asks looking at everyone.

“Well I was going to go with Tim around the park for a bit, just the two of us as I promised him earlier we would.” Dick says.

Jon jumps in after him, “Conner can we go together and ride Space Mountain?”

Tim feels Kon shrug, “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Awesome let’s go!” Jon gets up from the table and starts bouncing excitedly.

Kon laughs, “Alright kid, calm down.” He gently picks Tim up and places him on the floor, he then crouches down so they’re nearly eye level, “You okay with me going?”

“Go have fun with your brother.” Tim smiles at him and Kon grins as he stands up. Once stood Jon was quick to grab his hand and start to pull him away. Tim walks around the table and stands next to Dick, who was already rising to his feet. Dick bends down and picks him up and places Tim on his hip.

“So we’ll catch you guys later, have fun!” Dick says as he walks away from the table.

Dick doesn’t put Tim down for a good 20 minutes. Tim doesn’t mind, it saves him walking around because he still feels tired even after his light nap on Kon from earlier. After walking around for a while they find a bench and settle down on it.

“So, how you doing Timmy?” Dick asks looking at him.

Tim swings his feet backwards and forwards from where they hand over the edge of the bench, “I’m okay.” He answers.

Dick smiles at him, “Yeah? I guess that’s good then. How’s Conner dealing with this situation?”

“He’s trying,” Tim tells him, “I think me being this age has made him realise that he wants kids. A few times I’ve caught him with this dreamy look on his face like he’s imaging the future or something, but he’s doing what he can.”

“Think he’s father material?” Dick asks looking amused.

“I think he is yeah, can’t say the same for myself however.”

Dick leans over and ruffles his hair, “Awww Timmy…” He coos out.

“Dick!” Tim exclaims and tries to bat the mans hands away, that just encourages Dick more. Tim finds himself getting dragged along the bench and pulled into Dick’s lap, before he could do anything Dick was running his fingers all over his sides and underneath his armpits and Tim couldn’t contain the squeal of laughter that bubbled up inside of him.

Once Dick was done tickling him, Tim was out of breath and his face was hurting from smiling so much. Dick stands up and picks him up. Placing Tim on his hip he says, “Come on, we’ll get a few rides in by the time the park closes. Oh by the way I love your shirt.”

Tim looks down at his shirt and sees the Wonder Woman pattern on it, “Yeah, Kon picked it up. It was either this or Superman.”

Dick barks out a laugh, “Brilliant, how the hell did he manage to get you in those? Do you have a batman one?” Tim chooses not to comment; however his silence gives Dick the answer he’s looking for. The man let’s out a gasp before laughing, “Oh you do! that’s brilliant! We’ll have to get you in that around the Manor at some point.”

“Shut up.” Tim pouts.

They walk around until Dick comes up to a ride, Tim looks up at Dick with a questioning look, “The carousel?”

Dick looks at him wide eyed, “Yes the carousel, it’ll be fun.”

Dick moves over to where the queue was supposed to be but fortunately it was empty and they managed to get straight onto the ride. They walk around the ride and Dick chooses them a horse to sit on, he picks up Tim and places him on the horses back, then he’s lifting himself up onto it right behind him. Tim feels Dick getting in close and he leans back into the man’s chest, Dick’s arms come up and grab the pole in front of them and effectively boxes Tim in so he can’t fall off.

Soon enough the ride starts up and cheerful music begins to play in the background. Slowly, their horse goes up and down and the ride starts to spin around, after a few times around it begins to pick up speed on the spinning.

It’s not the most exciting ride he’s been on but when he looks up at Dick and sees a huge smile on his brother’s face, Tim couldn’t help but smile too. After that the ride was a lot lighter and Tim enjoyed it a little more. It ends after 3 minutes or so, the horses stop moving and the spinning slows down to a halt. Once given the all clear Dick get’s off the horse first and then helps Tim off it and they make their way to the exit.

As they walk in another direction Dick says, “I love those rides, they always remind me of Haley’s, you know, the horses, the bright colours and cheerful music.”

Tim looks up at Dick and sends him a smile, no wonder he wanted to go on it then. Dick looks down and then squints at Tim. When he doesn’t look away Tim begins to feel uncomfortable under his gaze, “Dick?”

Dick draws back, “Sorry, but I’ve just realised that you would have been this height when you came to Hayley’s. You really are small.”

Tim pouts at the last comment, “Thanks, and yeah more or less, but remember you weren’t that tall when you were in Hayley’s either.”

Dick lets out a laugh and shrugs, “I’m okay with that,” He reaches down and grabs Tim’s hand, “Now come on, there’s another ride I want to take you on.”

Tim let’s Dick drag him along, though he has to take twice as many steps as the man because of his tiny legs making it difficult to keep up. By the time they get to the ride Dick wants to go on Tim’s all worn out again, he curses his current body for not having enough stamina. Looking at where they are Tim sees elephant shaped planes going around in circles.

Dick leads him through the entrance and over to where the line is. They don’t have to wait long as the ride that was going on comes to a stop. Once all the people have left they were allowed on, Dick leads him around the ride and goes to an empty elephant. Like with the carousal, Dick picks him up and places him in the elephant and then gets in himself. They strap up and wait for the ride to start.

A few minutes later the ride starts and Tim instantly sees people shoot up into the air, unexpectantly at that point the elephant they’re in goes shooting upwards and Tim lets out a yelp at the sudden movement. Next to him Dick was laughing. “Not funny.” Tim tells him.

That’s how most of the ride went, with Dick randomly changing their height. Tim won’t lie and say that it didn’t give him a bit of a thrill but it was just as annoying. He went from watching everything around him to watching Dick’s hand on the small lever that controlled their height, in the end he pushed Dick’s hand off it and took control of it himself.

Eventually the ride slows down and comes to a stop and Dick and Tim exit it. They walk out and head in a random direction, that’s when a cheerful tune rings out of Dick’s pocket. They stop walking and Dick brings out his phone and answers it.

A few moments later Dick’s hanging up and grinning down at Tim, “Right Baby Bird, apparently Lian is now out for the count, the day’s finally caught up on her and I’m willing to bet that you won’t be far behind either. We’ve arranged for everyone to meet at the entrance so we can get going, we’ve got one more night in the hotel then first thing tomorrow we head back for the Manor.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tim says looking up at him.

“Glad you approve,” Dick smiles back.

Before Dick could walk off Tim lifts his arms up in the ‘pick me up’ fashion. Dick watches him with an amused expression before rolling his eyes and bending down to pick him up. He places Tim on his hip and Tim leans his head on Dick’s shoulder as the man begins to walk in the direction of the entrance.

“Thanks for keeping your promise,” Tim mumbles to him, once again he feels the tiredness taking over him.

Tim feels a hand come up to his head and as it starts to stroke his hair, “Of course Timmy, sorry I was late.”

“That’s okay.”

He has no idea how long it had been but suddenly he finds that they’ve made it to the entrance where everyone was already waiting. Jon was excitedly talking to Kon, Roy and Jason, Lian was fast asleep in Roy’s arms, Jason was holding the giant teddy bear in his arms and was wearing the Green Lantern cap that Kon had brought earlier on and Damian stood just to the side not interacting with anyone.

They reach the group and Dick bends down to place Tim on the floor, which Tim wasn’t pleased about but he uses the opportunity to walk over to Kon. He finds the meta standing there smiling at him as he approaches, “Hey, have fun?”

“I did, did you?” Tim asks back. When Kon nods he finally sees the bag that he’s holding. Pointing to it he asks, “What’s that?”

“Oh, I went back to that superhero shop that we went into and brought a few things.”

Tim rolls his eyes at that, god knows what Kon has brought.

“Right shall we get going?” Dick calls out to the group. Everyone then started to pile out of the entrance. They make their way back to the hotel and then all separate according to where their rooms are located. They made arrangements to meet early in the morning hence why they’ve called it an early night.

Tim doesn’t really pay attention to anything. The walk from the park to the hotel Kon had been carrying him, then once inside the hotel room he allowed Kon to get him ready as he didn’t really have the energy to do himself. Soon enough he found himself curled up under the covers on the bed of their room in his pyjamas and just about ready to fall asleep. He doesn’t submit to sleep until Kon was in the bed with him, once he was Tim curls into Kon’s side and soaks up the heat coming off him and then he allows himself to finally go to sleep.

Everything in the morning was a blur, from packing their things to traveling to the airport to then getting on the jet and flying home. The travel takes up most of the morning and they end up having breakfast on the plane. They spend most of their time sharing different stories of the previous day and having a laugh about what gag gifts they’ve each brought for people.

Once they were in Gotham it was then traveling from the airport and back to the Manor and by mid-afternoon they finally make it back to the Manor.

Dick’s the first one up the steps, getting the keys he opens the door and heads in first. Everyone else follows him, they pile in the hallway and dump all of their things on the floor. From where he was standing Dick stretches, “Home sweet home,” he comments.

“Indeed, home sweet home.” A new voice speaks out.

Everyone shares a wide-eyed look before looking in the direction to where the voice came from. Standing there in an expensive suit with hands in his pockets was the famous Bruce Wayne.

“Care to tell me what’s going on?”

#Tiny Tim #part ten #timkon #Tim Drake #Kon-El #dick grayson #Jason Todd #roy harper #lian harper #disney world #fanfiction

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