#bernard is so dramatic about tim's kitchen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jacquihyde · 3 years ago

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Nighthawks

It’s a cold winter in Gotham, and the long nights provide a perfect backdrop for mysterious, dangerous occurrences on the campus of Gotham University. Tim Drake believes that the case will be open-and-shut, but combined with the weight of the secrets he is keeping from his family, his boyfriend, and himself, the skeletons in the university’s closet may succeed in drawing him too close.

Part 3: The Only Ones Left In The World

Bernard had his own room at Tim’s apartment, but he had fallen asleep in Tim’s own room the first night that he moved in and hadn’t gone back since. It had gotten to the point that Tim’s bed felt empty without him.

It was empty now. Bernard was at Gotham University studying while Tim continued to investigate the strange events occurring on campus. Scouring social media had told him that there had been a few more sightings of shadows, strange feelings, even apparitions. At least one person had ended up with a handprint mark like Mikaela’s somewhere on their body.

Tim put a hand to his own neck, imagining it. It was cold, but not frostbite cold. Not leave a lasting scar cold.

Tim spotted movement at the door and glanced up, seeing Bernard silhouetted in the yellow light spilling out of the hallway. “Hey,” he said.

“You’re home earlier than I thought,” Tim said.

Bernard groaned. “I could not do those readings anymore.” He flopped dramatically onto the bed, and Tim tried not to flinch. “What are you up to?”

Tim shuffled over slightly. “You remember the thing with Mikaela?”

Bernard nodded. “You’re looking into that?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Not getting much, though. Have you seen anything weird happening on campus?”

Bernard leaned back against the pillows. “Oh, there were some people LARPing The Princess Bride in front of the library when I was leaving. That was a little strange.”

Tim grinned. “Weird like supernatural weird.”

Bernard shrugged. “I mean, there’s always rumors,” he said. “Some people think there are secret tunnels under the school, but I think that pretty much every college has that rumor. And the frats can get kind of crazy with hazing, they’re always telling stories...oh, speaking of frats.”

“This can’t be good.”

Bernard laughed. “I got invited to an Omega Chi Omega party on Friday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Weren’t you telling me that Omega Chi Omega is kind of insane?”

“Yeah, and I want to experience it. Come on, it’s college. I like parties.” Bernard leaned closer to Tim. “And I like you.”

Tim sat up straighter. “You said it was rush week,” he said. “Are you pledging?”

“Fuck no,” Bernard said. “But I think it’s funny that I got invited to this party like they thought I was going to.” He shot a questioning glance at Tim’s laptop. “Hey, don’t you usually work downstairs?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m tired.”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “Are you?”

Tim was tired. Among other things. “Yes,” he said. He turned back to his laptop. “Um, do you -”

“Hey, what’s that on your shirt?”

Tim knew without having to look that he’d started bleeding again. “Oh,” he said, glancing down anyway. A steadily-growing spot of bright red had appeared on his side, standing out against his light gray shirt. “Um, I was stabbed.”

Bernard was staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, you were stabbed?”

“Lightly stabbed,” Tim said.

“Oh, lightly stabbed. That’s so much better.”

“It is, though!” Tim said. “It didn’t hit anything vital. I won’t even need stitches.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bernard said. “Where do you keep first aid kits, again? I know you have at least twelve stashed around here.”

Tim sighed. He knew when to give up. “There’s one under the bed.”

Bernard disappeared underneath the bed. “Take your shirt off,” he said, his voice muffled.

“As you wish,” Tim said. He heard Bernard laugh and couldn’t help but smile. It turned into a pained hiss as he twisted to remove his t-shirt.

“Shit,” Bernard said. “Here, let me…” Tim heard a thunk as he tossed the first aid kit onto the bed, then Bernard’s hands were on his skin, helping him take off the shirt. Tim could feel Bernard’s stare at the wound like it was another scar. “Did you even do anything to treat it?”

“I did!” Tim protested weakly.

“Like what? What did you do?”

“Waited for it to stop bleeding and then tried not to move,” Tim admitted.

Bernard glared at him. “Wrong answer.”

“I promise that it had stopped bleeding,” Tim said. “I don’t know what happened.” Bernard took out his phone, typing something. “What are you doing?” Tim asked.

“Googling how to treat a stab wound,” Bernard said.

“Wow,” Tim said. “I’m glad I’m in such safe hands.”

“Sorry that my neuroscience homework didn’t prepare me for treating my boyfriend’s ‘light stab wound’,” Bernard said. “Okay, so this is going to sting a bit.”

Tim braced himself, but still winced at the feeling of antiseptic against his skin. “It’s not that deep,” Bernard said. “And it’s pretty clean, considering...what you do. Who was it, anyway? It wasn’t…”

“It was not one of my brothers,” Tim affirmed. “We’re past that. Um, it was a gang fight that I got in the middle of. Red Hood went after them, B made me go home.”

“Good,” Bernard said. The cold of the antiseptic was gone, followed by mild pressure. “So you’ve been doing this for how long?” he asked, quieter this time.

“Since I was thirteen,” Tim said.

“Hm,” Bernard said. “And how many stab wounds have you had?”

His tone was humorous, but Bernard would have to be a stranger for Tim not to notice the darker tone lurking underneath his words. “Not too many, I promise,” Tim said.

“I think we might have different definitions of ‘not too many’.”

Bernard brushed his fingers against another scar on Tim’s abdomen, then another, then another. Tim caught his hand, bringing it up to his lips. “I’m okay,” he murmured.

Bernard finally finished applying the bandages and sat back up, his lips just a breath away from Tim’s. “I know you are,” he said softly.

Tim leaned in to kiss him, and they didn’t talk for a while after that.

Apparently Bernard was serious about the frat party. Tim didn’t quite believe him until they were on Gotham U’s campus, standing in front of a brightly lit house. Loud music and laughter spilled out of the open windows and door. It looked like something out of a bad movie. He turned to Bernard to tell him that when suddenly the door slammed open, two guys dashing outside. They stopped short upon seeing Bernard and Tim. “Bernard!” one yelled, then turned to his friend. “This is the guy I was telling you about. You know, my chem lab partner. Super cool.”

“Oh, you’re Bernard,” the other dude said. He was taller, a Gotham University cap sitting sideways on his head. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Chad.” Of course it is, Tim thought.

“Nice to meet you too. And nice seeing you, Zac,” Bernard said. “Um, this is my boyfriend Tim.”

Zac narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Do I know you?” he asked. “You look really familiar.”

“Um,” Tim said.

“Holy shit, you’re Tim Drake-Wayne,” Chad interrupted. He looked over at Zac. “Did you know he was dating Tim Drake-Wayne?”

“Dude, no,” Zac said. “That’s so cool, bro.”

“Um, thanks,” Bernard said. “I think so too. I think we’re going to head inside -”

“Oh!” Chad said. “Before you go in, just make sure to steer clear of the basement. We’ve locked it up for a reason, you know?”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “...Okay,” he said. He took Tim’s hand and the two of them headed into the house. They almost immediately met crowds of people — sitting on the stairs, dancing in the living room, drinking in the kitchen. Bernard had told him that Omega Chi Omega threw some of the biggest parties on campus. Tim definitely believed him.

“They were interesting,” Tim said.

“Who, Zac and Chad?” Bernard said. “Yeah, sorry about them.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tim said. “I’m glad I could boost your popularity.”

Bernard laughed. Tim glanced around at the students surrounding them. That could have been me, he thought. If he had never witnessed Dick’s parents’ deaths. If Jason had never gone to Ethiopia. If Tim hadn’t dropped out of Ivy Town U. If, if, if.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bernard asked.

Tim glanced over at him. To be heard, he would either have to yell or get a whisper’s breath away from Bernard. He much preferred the latter. “It’s kind of a lot,” he said.

He didn’t explain, but he didn’t need to. “Do you want to leave?" Bernard asked. "Because we can. It's no big deal.”

Tim shook his head. “No, just…” He trailed off, not sure how to put it into words.

Bernard smiled. “Just focus on me, okay?”

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay.” He wanted to kiss him. It took him a moment to remember that that was something that he could do now, whenever he wanted. And so he did. He felt Bernard’s grin against his lips, his arms wrapping loosely around his neck. They were surrounded by people, and yet Tim felt like they were the only ones in the world.

“Tim?”

The illusion disappeared as instantly as it had taken shape. Tim was suddenly aware of the people surrounding him, the loud music and chatter. And there, standing behind him, was Steph. He couldn’t see her face. He didn’t want to see her face. But he knew exactly who she was, exactly where she was. It would be impossible for him not to.

Tim forced himself to turn around, and sure enough, there she was. He couldn’t read her expression. He could count on one hand the number of times that that had happened. The LED lights lining the room faded from blue to purple. Steph would like that, he thought dimly.

He realized that she was speaking and forced himself to tune back in. “...don’t think we’ve met,” she was saying to Bernard. Tim unconsciously found himself squeezing Bernard’s hand. He wasn’t sure of when he’d taken hold of it. Part of him wanted to let go, but the rest of him knew that he couldn’t.

Bernard squeezed back. “Um, I’m Bernard.”

Steph smiled slightly. “Oh, I remember Tim talking about you! I’m Stephanie.”

Bernard’s eyes widened. “You’re real? Back in high school I thought that Tim was making you up.”

Steph laughed, and Tim took advantage of her split second distraction to meet Bernard’s gaze. Tim wasn’t sure exactly what emotion was behind his own eyes — something along the lines of panic, probably — but Bernard got the hint. “Um, I’m going to go get drinks,” he said. “Do you want anything?”

Tim shook his head. Bernard squeezed his hand once more and then disappeared into the crowd. Tim turned to Steph, acutely aware of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He tried to remember some of the grounding techniques that Jaine had taught him. Five things he could see — the purple lights, the car passing by outside the window, the lock on the basement door…

“So are you going to talk, or should I?” Steph said.

Tim wrenched his attention back to her. “I don’t know what to say,” he said weakly.

Steph shrugged. “I can talk, if you want,” she offered.

“I’m sorry,” Tim blurted out.

Steph frowned. “You’re...sorry,” she repeated. “For what?”

“I…” Tim swallowed hard. “You know.”

“Tim.” Steph took a step closer to him. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad. Seriously.”

“I should have told you.”

Steph shook her head. “You didn’t have to. That was up to you.” She looked off in the direction that Bernard had gone. “I do remember you talking about him in high school, you know,” she said. “You always really liked him.”

“I didn’t know what it was that I was feeling,” Tim said. “I didn’t even register it until...until the whole cult thing.”

Steph let out a breath. “God, of course it was the cult thing. That’s exactly the kind of weird shit you would get into.”

Tim laughed. He could feel the weight sliding off his shoulders as Steph pulled him into a hug. “I did love you, you know,” he whispered. “I still do.”

She held onto him tighter. “I love you too.”

Tim leaned his head against her shoulder, opening his eyes. He caught a glimpse of the basement door behind her. The door was wide open, the padlock hanging uselessly from the doorknob. He barely had time to register it before the world went black.

He stumbled backwards, pulling away from Steph. She kept a hold on his arm amidst the screams from the other partygoers. “What the hell?” she yelled, her mouth close to his ear. “Did a fuse blow or something?”

Tim tried to scan the room, but his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted. “I don’t think…”

The LED lights flashed back on — blue, then purple, then pink. There was a shriek coming from somewhere to Tim’s left, not tinged with laughter or exhilaration as the earlier yells had been, but infused with terror. He didn’t have to say a word. Steph was already moving, pulling him with her.

The crowd had grown too thick to easily maneuver through, but the two of them were smaller enough than most of the frat boys that they could form a path. Even then, Tim could only catch fleeting glimpses of the body lying still on the ground, the guy's skin covered in frost and handprints. His eyes were open, but glazed over, unresponsive.

Tim had barely managed to process the image in front of him before he was hearing more screaming, this time from another corner of the room. He didn’t even have to look to know that there was another comatose body frozen on the floor.

He turned to Steph. “Get everyone out,” he said.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “What about you?”

“I need to check something out,” he said.

“So you’re going to go towards whatever’s causing this?” she said. “Tim Drake, you would be the first to die in a horror movie.”

“I know,” Tim said. Without another word he moved away, shoving through the crowd towards the basement door. Everyone was too distracted to notice him approaching the forbidden location. Some were still gathered around the bodies, but most had figured out that escape was their best option.

“Tim!”

Tim turned away from the door, and there was Bernard, barely visible through the fleeing crowds. He made eye contact with him, feeling the screaming, the running footsteps, the heat of the crowd surrounding them fade away. The only ones left in the world.

Tim stepped backwards, closing the basement door behind him. The last thing he saw was Bernard’s stricken face, a word that Tim never got to hear still hanging on his lips.

It was even darker in the basement. Windows lined the tops of the walls, letting the dim glow of the streetlights outside stream in. Tim kept a hand on the wall as he carefully navigated the stairs. It looked like the room hadn’t been renovated, or even cleaned, in decades. Tim could just barely make out the faded posters lining the room, and, surrounding them, the graffiti. It looked as if everyone who had ever been a part of Omega Chi Omega had signed these walls. Some deep-set instinct told Tim to stop touching them.

The only furniture was the shelves lining the walls. They were little more than worn-out planks of wood, looking as though they were going to give out at any moment. Most of them were unused, with only a few places throughout the room, seemingly random, having objects placed upon them. He approached the closest, a folded-up Gotham University Nighthawks jersey. He could just barely make out a name and a number — Rivers, 11. Amidst the scramble of words written on the wall, Tim could read one in particular, written deliberately above where the jersey was lying. “Logan Rivers, 2024,” he murmured aloud.

He made his way around the room, investigating each shelf. There was a black ring (David Choi, 2009), a faded and empty journal (Jamie Collins, 1978), a torn red tie (Alec Samuel, 1994). Tim wondered idly if it was some kind of hall of fame or something. It obviously wasn’t just anyone who got to leave an artifact down here.

At the far end of the room, there was a silver locket, so small and unassuming that Tim almost completely missed it. “Sam Kingston, 1985,” he read. His hand hovered above the locket, but he didn’t touch it. Something felt sacred about it, too personal for him to see.

There was a creak from the stairs, and Tim whirled around, his hand flying to his waist for a weapon that didn’t exist. One of the bros — Chad — was standing in the shadows engulfing the last stair. “Hey,” Tim said. “Sorry, I know you said not to come down here, but I got kind of pushed down in the whole chaos upstairs. I’ll leave.”

Chad said nothing, just continued to stare at him. Tim’s heart leaped into his throat. “Chad?”

Tim didn’t even see him move. One moment Chad was on the stairs, the next he was leaping at him, hands outstretched. Tim barely managed to leap aside, and even then, Chad was close enough for him to feel the cold wafting off of his skin. “Shit,” Tim whispered as Chad turned back around to face him. His skin had gone pale, and Tim could see the edges of a frost-encrusted handprint peering out of his collar. “Chad, this isn’t you.”

Chad charged him again. Tim drove him back with an elbow to the stomach, jumping out of the way of his hands. He had no clue how this thing spread, but he could tell that it wasn’t anything he wanted to take any chances on. It affects different people in different ways, he thought, shoving Chad back again. Chad’s back hit the shelves and he stumbled as the wood gave a dangerous creak. Mikaela was fine, just shaken. The people outside were knocked out. Chad… It was like he was possessed. He was faster than before. Much stronger than he should have been. And there was nothing, nothing at all, left behind his eyes.

Tim ran for the stairs. He knew that Chad was right behind him, but if he timed it right…

He vaulted over the railing. Chad was going too fast to stop himself and slammed right into it. Tim watched as he took one step, then two, then collapsed onto the ground, his soulless eyes slowly shutting.

Tim jumped down off of the stairs, approaching Chad as quietly as possible. The color was slowly returning to his skin, but the handprint still stood out, stark-white and frozen. He could see the fight going out of him. Hopefully, he would be back to normal, if a little disoriented, by the time he woke up.

Tim maneuvered out of one of the basement windows, just wide enough for him to fit through. Someone had called the cops, and the outside of the frat house was bathed in red and blue light. Tim slipped past the crowds onto the sidewalk, away from where the officers were roaming.

“Tim!”

He whirled around, and there was Bernard, getting to his feet from where he was sitting on the curb. Tim rushed over to him. “What the hell happened in there?” Bernard asked.

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It was like what happened to Mikaela, but on a whole other level.” He glanced around. “Where did Steph go?”

“She was talking to the cops, last I saw her,” Bernard said. His voice dropped lower. “You didn’t tell me that you dated Spoiler.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Bernard said. “I figured it out.”

Tim wished he could go back in time and tell his thirteen-year-old self all about the guy he would eventually end up dating. “Well. You were right,” he said.

Bernard laughed, but it seemed subdued. Tim reached out, grasping his hand again. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Bernard nodded. “Yeah. It’s just kind of hitting me that I’m dating a vigilante. When you went down to the basement...it kind of freaked me out. Same as when you got stabbed the other day. Not only because I don’t want you to get hurt, but because…” He stopped suddenly. “This is stupid.”

Tim shook his head. “No, what is it?”

Bernard sighed. “I’m just never going to really know that part of your life, am I?” Tim stared at him, and Bernard begrudgingly continued. “It’s like...you looked right at me after everything went crazy tonight. And you didn’t say anything, you just ran right into danger without saying a word. And the whole stabbing thing, you were going to hide that from me. And I get it. I really do. It’s just a lot to think about.”

Tim swallowed hard. “I’m…” he started to say.

Bernard cut him off. “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said. “I’m not mad. It was just a weird night and everything’s kind of hitting me all at once.” He looked up over Tim’s head at the dispersing crowds behind them. “We should head home. I don’t want to get caught up in whatever happens here next.”

Tim couldn’t get Bernard’s words out of his head. He couldn’t tell what Bernard was thinking either, and it haunted him, running as a constant undercurrent in his mind. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed, and of course that someone ended up being Jaine.

“You have something to say,” she told him. She couldn’t even see his face — she was at her desk while Tim was turned away from her, giving Batman the axolotl bite-sized pieces of earthworm. “I can always tell with you.”

Tim nodded. “Something happened the other day,” he said, pushing past the reluctance. Batman finished the last piece of earthworm and turned to look at him with unblinking eyes. “That’s all I’ve got,” Tim told him. Batman, predictably, did not respond.

“Was it a Robin thing or a Tim Drake thing?” Jaine asked.

“Sort of both.” Tim sat back down. “Bernard and I were at this party…” He slowly told her about the Omega Chi Omega incident, from the moment that Steph caught him and Bernard to their conversation after Tim left the basement. “And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” he finished quietly, barely able to be heard over Batman’s filter bubbling.

Jaine nodded. “Do you feel guilty about it?”

“Maybe not guilty,” Tim said. “Except…” He sighed. “I want him to be a part of my life,” he said. “Every bit of it. Even the darker parts. But I don’t know how to do that.”

“What do you mean you don’t know how?” Jaine asked. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Both,” Tim said. “I think. I don’t really know how to define it. I’m just not used to opening up to people like that. Even if I want to, the words get stuck in my throat. And mixing that with what I’m letting him into…”

Jaine nodded. “It’s hard,” she said. “He knows Tim, and he knows Robin. But knowing both, that’s different.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Different. It feels like it shouldn’t be possible.”

“But you know that it is,” Jaine pointed out. “And he’d tell you that too.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That and a million other things.”

“So what are you going to tell him?” Jaine asked.

Tim thought about it, and then spoke.

At the end of the night, Robin was perched on his own windowsill, peering in through the window. Bernard was in the living room, typing something on his laptop. Light streamed in from the hallway behind him, making him look as if he was made of gold. Tim knocked on the window lightly and Bernard glanced up. He smiled slightly when he saw Tim outside, getting up to unlock the window.

“This is a surprise,” Bernard said as he slid the window open. “There’s a perfectly good entrance downstairs.”

“I needed to talk to you,” Tim said. “And I didn’t want to wait.” Bernard frowned, and Tim instantly felt guilty. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just about the other day at the party.”

“Oh,” Bernard said. “I told you, I’m not mad about it -”

“I know you’re not,” Tim said. “There are just some things that I want to say.”

Bernard nodded. “Okay,” he said. Tim was silent, and Bernard raised his eyebrows. “So are you going to talk, or…”

“I am, I just...ugh. I literally rehearsed this. Why is it so hard?”

“You rehearsed it?” Bernard repeated.

“I don’t want to get this wrong,” Tim said. “I’ve never done this before. Any of this.”

Bernard nodded. “Like, dating a guy?”

“Yes,” Tim said. “No. It’s not just about that. I’ve never dated someone who knows about every side of me who isn’t a vigilante themselves. And I want to say that that’s why I instinctively want to hide things from you. It’s not like the ‘because I love you’ thing -” He realized what he had said and cut himself off, his cheeks flushing bright red. Bernard stared at him, his mouth slightly open. Tim forced himself to keep talking. “That’s not what I want it to be like. But I do want to protect you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, not again, not ever. But that’s...that’s not the whole truth. I don’t really know how to open up. I’m trying to learn how, but it’s never been something that I’ve ever been good at, not ever. And you deserve better than that, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

Bernard stepped closer to him. When he spoke, their lips almost brushed together. “You know that you can talk to me about anything.”

“I do know that,” Tim replied. “I’m just not great at making myself believe it.”

“You’re getting better,” Bernard said. “You’re talking to me now, right?” He reached up, his hands framing the sides of Tim’s face. “Can I?” he said. Tim nodded, and Bernard gently peeled the mask away from Tim’s eyes. He leaned forwards, their foreheads brushing together.

“What was that for?” Tim asked.

“I wanted to see you,” Bernard said. He moved just enough for their lips to brush together, then pulled away. “I love you too, you know,” he whispered.

Tim moved his hands up to cover Bernard’s. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

Bernard’s brows knit together. “For...”

Tim shook his head. There were so many things he wanted to say about Bernard, so many words that he could say, and yet his mind kept coming up blank. “Just for existing,” he finally said. It was the closest he could come to containing it all.

#dc comics #batfam #tim drake #bernard dowd #aj writes #fic rec

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