#I’M WRITING A FIC ABOUT MULTIPLE DIMENSIONS AND THAT’S OBVIOUSLY NOT COMPLICATED ENOUGH

[bi-bats]

Jason’s first thought — around the incredibly loud siren noise in his brain — is that Tim is too tall. He thinks it in the weird way that a person sometimes thinks a single rational thought in the middle of losing their mind, but still. Jason is certain that he’s an inch or two taller than he should be.

Taller-Tim frowns at the device in his hand, his eyes pinching in the corners. He shakes the thing once, twice, then taps it against his palm a few times, like maybe there’s something stuck in it.

“Damn it,” he mumbles, placing a hand on his hip.

“Tim?” Jason asks, his voice cracking right down the middle as the name slides out with the air that was stuck in his chest.

Tim’s head snaps up to look at him, and his face does something complicated. Not the kind of complicated that Jason is used to. Or, was used to. Before. Back when Tim was around to do things like look at Jason. Back when Tim was alive—

Nope. He hasn’t let himself think that for four months and he isn’t about to start now.

Especially not when Tim is looking at him.

(Look I know that the @ficwip word game wednesday thing is supposed to be one line but I’m physically incapable of sharing one line out of context. Something something my loss is your gain)