#bruce wayne whump

[aeturnum-mendacacium]

How many people do you think batman had to see die? Because batman can't save everyone and this is Gotham, it's not a game, he has most definitely seen people, kids bleeding out to their death and know that they won't make it

Do you think he has held a child in a alleyway, leaning on the tattered wall, and let blood pour out of this boy, maybe a teenager, maybe just a kid, but held them so dearly, rocking them, humming, telling them that he'll be there till it ends, and do you think that during those times, a child so Little would have asked why it's ending, that he didn't want to go, and asked batman to come with him just for a bit cause he was scared to go alone, it doesn't matter what age, how many do you think he lied to? So that they could rest just for a bit, and then held on to that for the rest of his life? And had to move on. Move on and plan for the next day.

Do you think it was the reason why he was late for a few justice league meetings? Holding on to a dying life he knows he couldn't save, lying to them, comforting them, and then arriving late to get interrogated,blamed, for not being on time, and offering a simple offhanded excuse.

?knowing that tomorrow he has to escort another soul because there are no angels anymore to do so, lie to them that he'll follow them through, then turn around at the gates of heaven to drag his bloodied feet and follow his footsteps back to hell?

[witherby]

Ah, you're thinking in regards to Batlantern au has me both intrigued and curious, Chef.

Sincerely,

— 🐟

Intrigued and curious? I'm eager to sate your dark passenger, my pretty fishy ~

I play with a lot of AUs in my mind that I don't have the skills to bring to fruition. But I also don't think I'd like to see them written by other people because I have such a specific vision that I'm almost nervous to share them. Does that make sense? Likely not. It's okay though.

Long and rambly post about one of my aus ahead!

The one I daydream about the most I affectionately call the "Second Chance AU." Because is Bruce is literally brought to an alternate universe after years of whump. *I put my Evil Chef Hat on*

This Bruce is Batman, but Alfred was not a good guardian to Bruce. He raised him military-style and with tough love, instead of with soft hands and kind eyes. Bruce grows up very touch-starved and socially withdrawn. He doesn't adopt a "Brucie" persona, he's just a quiet CEO that keeps his head down and does good without recognition during the day.

He still becomes Batman because despite all the shit Gotham has put him through, that's his city and he wants to leave it better than he found it.

When Dick's parents die, he takes him in as his ward and raises him as best he can, but he's even more emotionally stunted in this universe so they don't build as tight of a bond. Then Jason steals the Batmobile tires and he takes pity on him and brings him in, too. Then he finds Tim stalking him and reluctantly allows him in on the Batman secret.

Bruce does not want to raise child soldiers. He doesn't make any of them his Robins, instead pushing them to seek therapy and build normal lives and childhoods for themselves while he goes out and protects the city alone. This works on Jason and only half-works on Tim.

Dick resents him for this. He has the acrobatics and early Talon training to be a good fighter but Bruce won't let him avenge his parents' deaths. He still becomes Nightwing but under Alfred's secret tutelage, because Alfred is more than fine with this child wanting to learn discipline through combat.

Conflict arises, Bruce and Dick have a falling out, and Dick emancipates himself and moves out permanently. He's off fighting crime under his own terms and on his own turf in Blüdhaven.

Jason still dies, as a civilian victim this time due to a Joker scheme. In an explosion, in a robbery gone wrong, as canon fodder in a firefight or something, idk take your pic. Joker kidnaps Tim at the same time this happens and turns him into JJ.

Everything is super fucked. Bruce has been ex-communicated from one son, had to bury another, and he did rescue Tim and try to deprogram the Joker-fication from him but it doesn't work. Bruce has spent so much time and attention on Tim trying to help him recover that Gotham stops becoming the main priority and falls to the wayside. The streets are chaotic. Rogues are running around un-checked. Alfred gets outta dodge and considers Bruce a failure for not having been enough to solve the city's problems.

Bruce is alone, and he's dying because during an attempt to talk to and help Tim/JJ, he had an episode and stabbed an unarmored Bruce in the chest and ran off laughing. He can patch up this wound no problem and keep going, but he's so distraught at having lost his entire family at this point that he doesn't see it worth the effort. Gotham, Dick, Jason, Tim, it's all been in vain. He does not want to live to see his fallen world break apart any further. So he lies down, wraps his arms around himself in a fascimile of a hug, and allows himself to bleed to death.

In another world, another universe, Bruce has just died. Not by the same means, but by accident. He was on a mission with the Justice League and a villain with a lucky hit got him in the head. Brainwaves showed no activity in the med bay after the battle and he was declared braindead, so his family reluctantly took him off life support and he passed away.

The heroes, distraught and needing Batman because this one had contingencies but not as many as they'd hoped for, turn to magic and science. They scour worlds that have Batman's they don't need, or for Batman's that wouldn't be missed.

And they find one. A Bruce, despondent and dying in a world that doesn't care for him. They pluck him up, they patch his wound, they save his life, they let him sleep, and they wait for him to wake up.

When he does, Bruce thinks he's in a weird variation of Heaven. Dick is here! Jason is alive! Tim isn't JJ! There's a fourth boy here with his features! What's going on!?

He's told he was taken from his world and brought to theirs. These people are pleading and bargaining with him to not be angry, to at the very least help them out with plans and contingencies for future world-ending events before they send him back.

"Back?" He blurts, looking so very sad. "I have to go back?"

And everybody exchanges looks with each other. They look at him. They look at each other. Because this is the Best Case Scenario. A Batman willing to stay? Hell yes!

Now they just need to figure out why he's so distant and looking at everybody like they're about to scream at him. Alfred offers him tea and Bruce asks him if he's feeling okay. Dick smiles at him and Bruce's eyes get misty. Tim laughs at something and Bruce stiffens. Jason is just Sitting There and Bruce keeps checking if he's breathing.

This Bruce is traumatized to shit and doesn't know how to accept love from these people. These people are also grieving their Bruce, so they're acting a little weird around him, too.

But when he needs to be Batman, he suits up and gets the damn job done, and he's good at it. Almost better than the one they lost, because he's so used to working alone he has to be better to compensate for no backup.

Also, because I'm predictable and can't not have any Batlantern, Hal was in love with his original Bruce before he died. He knows he shouldn't be making moves on the new one, but...God, they look the same. They have the same soft heart. They have the same dream of bettering Gotham, and by extension the world. This one's just Bruce but to the left. And he seems so grateful to be in a world where his family is around, even if it's not his original one, that it's terribly endearing. How can you not fall in love with that gentle idiot?

There's so much more world building to this, and Bruce has so much guilt about being given a second chance with these people, and Hal is also guilty for falling in love with New Bruce, and I roll them around in my head all the TIIIIIME. I love love love this au. It's a personal project so cultivated towards my enjoyment it's not even funny. I love the AU blorbos.

[ktkat99]

Two Weeks Of Whump Challenge Day 11. Hanging (By A Thread)

TW: Depression and loss of apatite.

"It feels like breathing is a chore. Like something you have to do. Like something you should be able to do on your own, but you just keep forgetting. You… you feel like you're walking, trying to just keep moving forwards, but with every step, someones adding more and more weight. But you know you can't stop. You're not allowed. Because everyone always says that if you just keep going, it will all get better. And so all your focus is on just… moving. One foot in front of the other. Again. And again. And again. But it keeps getting harder and harder. And then sometimes you wake up and realize you've been so focused on just moving that you've blocked out literally everything else. Your life, your friends, your family. The whole world. It's all kept moving without you. You weren't necessary."

Tim shifted and looked at his hands, leaning against Bruce's side. "It sucks." He whispered. "I know it does."

Mad Hatter had set off a device earlier that night that amplified all of Batman's most negative emotions until they overwhelmed him and left him disoriented.

"But, please, just… come back?"

Tim, having only been Robin a few months by this point, had frozen in place. He hadn't been sure what was more important at the moment, catching Mad Hatter, or helping Batman.

He'd decided to stay and help Batman.

He'd gotten him into the Batmobile.

He'd managed to drive the both of them back to the cave.

And now, hours later, he was seated on the edge of Bruce's bed, trying to talk to his mentor as the man sat, still as a statue, staring at a photo of himself and his last Robin.

"I… I don't know what the right thing to say is. I don't… I don't know how to help you." Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd been talking for hours, and had barely gotten any reaction.

"Jason's gone, and I can't change that. I can't fix that. And I'm sorry." He felt hot tears as they fell.

"But, if it helps at all, I'm here. I know I'm not who you want, but… at least you're not alone. I always…" Tim trailed off rubbing his eyes with his hoodie sleeve. "I always hate being alone."

Yyyyy

"Hey, Bruce?" Dick knocked on the open door of his father's home office.

"Hey. What's up?" Bruce greeted, eyebrows drawing together in concern.

Dick leaned in the doorway, worry written all over his face. "It's Tim." He nodded down the hall. "He's not eating."

Bruce frowned. That wasn't good.

Tim had been struggling for a while lately, but a few days ago a case had gone sideways and he'd gotten a nasty dose of Fear Toxin.

He'd gotten through it after about half a day, but whatever he'd been forced to see…

"I'm sure he'll eat when he's hungry. Why don't you leave the plate on his nightstand?" At least, Bruce hoped he would.

After waking up, Tim hadn't spoken to any of them beyond a few hoarse whispers about being tired and just wanting to sleep.

They'd helped him upstairs to his bed, and that's where he'd stayed.

At first, they'd all just been happy to see that he was resting and actually taking time to recover.

Then, they'd been relieved and even joked when it seemed he was taking some time to just relax and be lazy for a bit.

But now?

Now they were starting to get worried.

"I don't… Bruce, I don't think he will." Dick sighed. "I brought him dinner last night and the plates still on his nightstand. He didn't touch a damn thing."

Bruce nodded and stood. "I'll see what I can do."

He made his way down the hall to Tim's room and knocked on the closed door.

No response.

"Buddy, it's Bruce. I'm coming in." He called.

No response.

He opened the door and walked in. The light was off and the window closed, making the room dark enough that his eyes had to adjust.

Dirty clothes lay all over the floor, dropped and left where they'd fallen.

His desk held a closed laptop and several stacks of papers and files, all stamped with the familiar Wayne Enterprises logo.

The skateboard he used to ride everywhere was leaned against the wall, coated in a visible layer of dust.

And the small lump under the blankets on the bed hadn't so much as twitched since he'd walked in.

Bruce walked closer, seeing that Dick had been right. The plate they'd made for Tim the night before hadn't been touched. Balanced beside it, hanging over the edge of the nightstand, was a bowl of oatmeal.

Dick had sliced a peach into it, the way Tim loved.

He hadn't even taken a bite.

"Tim." Bruce sat carefully on the edge of the mattress. "Are you awake?"

No response.

"Can I get you anything?"

No response.

"Do you want something else to eat?"

It was starting to feel like Bruce was talking to a wall.

Sighing, feeling helpless to protect his child from this invisible foe, Bruce gently set his hand on Tim's shoulder, rubbing it slowly.

"I don't know what you need."

He, again, didn't get a response.

"I don't know what you saw. I don't know what you went through, or if that's even what triggered this."

Bruce reached out with his other hand and felt the bowl of oatmeal. It was room temperature, and starting to dry out.

How long had Dick sat here trying to get his brother to eat something?

"Please, let me help."

He begged softly.

"Please tell me what I can do."

Tim still offered no response. Bruce would almost have thought he was asleep if it weren't for the fact that he could see that Tim's eyes were open. He was staring blankly at the wall, back facing his father.

"You told me once… what it felt like. When you got like this."

Tim blinked.

"You said that it felt like the world and everyone in it just kept moving without you."

Bruce gave Tim's arm a firm squeeze.

"Tim, I'm not moving. I'm not going anywhere."

He rested his forehead on Tim's shoulder.

"Not without you. Because you're my son, and I love you."

Tim's next exhale was shaky.

"I don't care how long it takes. Just, please. Come back to me? I-,"

Bruce trailed off when Tim shifted ever so slightly.

He reached up and grabbed the hand that was still resting on his arm, squeezing it tight.

His hand was shaking, but Bruce chose to focus on the fact that he was moving at all.

"I'm here, Tim." He whispered. "I promise, I'm here."

Tim gently tugged the hand, and Bruce let him move it.

He pulled it to his chest and hugged it tight with both arms like a child afraid to lose their security blanket.

And then he broke.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he ducked his head and curled up into a ball, still desperately clinging to Bruce's arm.

Heart breaking, Bruce wrapped his other arm under Tim's body and hauled him upright, pulling him into his lap.

Tim let himself be moved, but his grip didn't waver.

His entire body shook with sobs, which quickly dampened Bruce's shirt.

Neither of them cared.

"I'm here, son. I'm here. I've got you."

If Tim heard what Bruce was whispering, he gave no sign.

[mnemosyne-nyx]

I'm in a Bruce Wayne whump famine right now 😭 I'm re-reading comics and fics like a mad, mouth-frothing goblin locked in a cave.

[admiringtheskies]

ok y’all if you like bruce-centric (and especially whump with a side of character study) you have GOT to read this fic, the premise is just fucking AMAZING, and the chapter that OP just posted today had me SCREAMING; like actually pls go just check this out, it’s brilliant and i need more ppl to read it

the specific quote from this newest chapter that actually totally unhinged me (yes i’m using that as an active verb,,, what can i say, my hinges have been banished by Good Words)—

Baking really was a test of patience. No wonder Alfred was so adept at putting up with Bruce. He could never be more frustrating than baking.

(Lies. People liked baking. No one liked Bruce.)

ANYWAYS the plot itself is also quite fascinating so i’m not gonna say anything else, just go read it if you want!!! and thanks/congrats to @SolaceInSpace on ao3 for writing an absolute BANGER of a fic👏🏽

[arianaofimladris]

Chapter six of my Batman story is up!

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Dick ‘has been a barista like 90 times over 50 years of comics Grayson’ can absolutely prepare whatever drink you want him too. He can also guess/ judge what your go to order is.

With the bats

He can guess what WILL be there favorite even if they’ve never tried it before

——————

Bruce on 13 mins of sleep fucking exhausted but even Alfred isn’t giving him shit bc they HAVE TO crack this case: hrn

Dick plopping a take away coffee cup in front of him: DRINK

Bruce goes through a quick is this my son or a shapeshifter, mind control, demon situation before deciding fuck it we ball and taking a sip: this… tastes different

Dick: yeah

Bruce ‘actual freak who grumbles when coffee isn’t bitter enough’ Wayne: this is good

Dick: yeah it’s a red eye

Bruce: hrn

Dick: yeah no problem B

——————

Jay (just got done fighting aliens and needs to get back to whatever he was doing before) : get me a Drink as black as my soul

Dick: sure

Dick brings back the drink from the kitchen

Dick: strawberry iced matcha with oat milk right here for you

Jay: what the fuck Goldie

Dick: I saw you sobbing at the notebook a week ago don’t play tough with me and don’t fucking lie we both know you like tea more.

Jay sputtering: Don’t PLAY TOUGH? BROTHER I PUT A BUNCH OF HEADS A BAG AND MADE THE UNDERWORLD INTO MY BITCH

Dick: yes yes Jay now go drink your tea and run along

(It is the best fucking thing he’s ever tried, bought a matcha making kit as soon as he got him, has denied it ever since but Dick doesn’t buy it and keeps making him the drink)

—————-

Tim:

Dick:

Tim:

Dick:

Tim:

Dick: you’re a heathen

Tim: proudly

Dick: fine take the monster and go OH MY GOD

————————

Steph wincing at the taste of a latte: there’s something seriously wrong with this place, no matter how much sugar I add it’s just bitter

Dick: yeah Steph it’s bc they burn the beans to get more use of em

Dick: you could add all the cream and milk you want it’s not gonna do shit

Steph: ugh this is the only coffee spot on my campus in so screwed

Dick pulling out a takeaway coffee cup: don’t worry I brought you some from home

Steph: Jesus fuck this is delicious

Dick: upside down sweet almond latte with caramel and double espresso

Steph: should’ve married into the family with Tim god damn

Dick: Cass is still an option

Steph: what

Dick: what

——————————-

Dick:

Duke:

Dick:

Duke:

Dick: you’re one of Tim’s heathens aren’t you

Duke: just because I like energy drinks more doesn’t mean I don’t LIKE coffee

Dick grumbling: should’ve left you with the cops

Duke: what was that? I didn’t hear you

Dick thrusting the coffee cup at him: just take it, end my suffering

Duke: oh damn that’s good… what is it

Dick:…. It’s Vietnamese style coffee

Duke: fuck I might I have to switch, Jesus that’s good

Dick vaguely smug: another victory

—————

Dick: hey Cass

Cass: busy… like you should be

Dick: yeah, yeah I have like 6 mins of free time left before I have to meet up with Robin (Tim) for an op

Dick: anyway i made you strawberry hot chocolate

Cass: this isn’t coffee

Dick: it has 180 milligrams of caffeine

Cass: how?

Dick: don’t ask difficult questions

Dick: where the hell did she go?

Dick: is this how everyone else feels about us?

——————

Damian: I want coffee

Dick: you’re an infant, no

Damian: IM 15 GRAYSON

Dick: a certifiable baby

Damian: I hate you

Dick: you would hate me more if you stunted your growth and ended up Tim sized

Tim: HEY!

Damian: this is true… apologies Richard

[abisalli]

There was always a certain shift that happened in Batman whenever he talked to kids that were hurt or scared. He would speak more softly, maybe even kneel down in front of them to personally assure them that they were safe now.

My first piece for this year's @batfam-big-bang! This is a scene from the incredible fic by @fullmetalninjabunny called 'Soft Words Left Unspoken' which you can find here <- 🦇 I had a blast working on this! Thank you so much for having me and also thank you to the mods for a great event <3

Image ID:

An image of Tim Drake as Robin and Bruce Wayne as Batman inside the Batcave. Both characters have their masks off. Tim is sitting on top of a medical bed and is looking to the side with tears streaming down his face. Bruce kneels down in front of him, looking troubled. He is holding Tim’s Mask in his right hand. In the foreground are four boxed captions with the following text, “It wasn’t Batman who was there anymore, but Bruce Wayne. Not the vigilante that had lost a protégé, but the man who has lost his son.”

[callmeizukunotdeku]

Jason starts working with the Bats and he feels guilty. He is guilty.

Sure, he wasn't in his right mind during the Tower incident, not entirely, but he was in his right mind when he was planning it. The Pit could only take over for so long.

So maybe, when things start to get better between him and the bats, he takes up a case with Robin.

It's an easy case, but he's still impressed by how quickly Robin solves it.

Maybe Tim smiles when he solves the case and Jason ruffles his hair and tells him he did a good job--because god, Tim's just a kid; how could he not?

And maybe Tim keeps coming back after that.

Maybe Tim keeps solving all of Red Hood's cases before Jason can. Maybe Tim keeps taking over for Jason and maybe Jason starts to feel less guilty and more pissed off because he knows that he never fully thought things through as Robin and he knows that Bruce took on Tim as Robin because he did. He knows Tim is the smart Robin, but Tim has neither the right nor reason to rub it in his face, so maybe he snaps at Tim--tells him to get the fuck out of sight, tells him that he might not be the smartest person in the room but he's not some fucking idiot, tells him that he knows what he's doing and he doesn't need some fucking kid just going around solving his cases for him. Maybe, Jason tells Tim that he's not needed.

And maybe the guilt comes back when Tim leaves with tears in his eyes.

But, Jason thinks, all the guilt in the world isn't enough to override the anger and let Tim back in, not after he called Jason an idiot with everything but his words.

And then, maybe Jason is working a case and it expands past his territory and he finds himself in the cave, working with Batman. Maybe neither of them can solve it and Tim walks in, excitedly talking to Dick about something. (Jason isn't listening too closely.)

Maybe Bruce calls Tim over and Jason flinches--he didn't remember Bruce ever being that harsh when he was Robin.

Maybe Tim solves the case and Bruce turns back to Jason and starts planning their next step without so much as a thank you.

Maybe it's odd, to Jason, how Bruce and Tim don't act like a Batman and Robin to each other, and that thought sticks with him, bugging him whenever he has a quiet moment, so maybe a week or two passes before he asks Dick about it.

Maybe Dick's smile is sad when he explains how they've always been like that. Tim, always striving for attention, Bruce never giving it. Maybe Bruce's standards rose above what was physically possible in the wake of Jason's death and maybe Dick sobs himself to sleep every once in a while because that hasn't stopped tim from trying.

Maybe Tim was okay for a bit whenever Dick was in town because he could help Dick on cases and Dick would smile and applaud every little thing he did, but Dick lived in a different city, so Tim couldn't help as much with Dick's cases as he could with Bruce's.

Maybe, Dick says something under his breath--a passing comment about how surprised he is that Tim didn't come to Jason and try to solve all his cases just for a kind word or two, hoping that maybe the Red Hood's love of kids and their happiness would extend to him.

Maybe Jason feels his stomach drop as the final piece of the puzzle clicks in place--how at first, Tim came with cases every so often, smiled and leaned in whenever Jason said a kind word to him, and how, when Jason started thinking that Tim was doing this to spite Jason was when he stopped giving that praise to Tim, which had the boy solving more and more cases for him, working harder and harder without being asked just so that maybe--maybe Jason would tell him he did a good job. Jason wondered just how far Tim would go if someone promised him a smile.

Maybe the guilt is too much for him and he pushed it down, only saying, "I don't think he'd risk it--not after the Tower."

Maybe Dick has something sad in his eyes when he says, "He's done more for less."

Maybe Jason tries again to bring Tim into his cases, but Tim refuses, promises not to intrude, promises he learned his lesson, and maybe Jason cries because Tim has never asked for an apology after Titan's Tower, but one hint that he's overstepped and Tim begs forgiveness.

Maybe Jason focuses a little too much on how to bring Tim closer--make him feel loved again and make it clear that Jason just didn't understand what Tim that Tim was trying to help--make sure Tim knew he was welcome.

But maybe Tim refused.

And maybe, Jason got so focused on Tim that he stopped focusing on patrol and got over his head. Maybe, just on pure happenstance, Tim was nearby that night and he couldn't let anything happen to his Robin.

Maybe Tim swooped in to save the day and Jason grabbed onto his wrist when he tried to leave.

Maybe Tim apologized but Jason just pulled him in and hugged him--a full hug, one arm around Tim's back, the other, tucking Tim's head into his chest, and maybe Jason said, "Thank you so much, Robin. I needed you to save me."

Maybe Tim cried when it happened. Maybe, under his mask, Jason was crying as well. Maybe, they got closer after that, Jason, needing to be trusted to care for something and Tim just needing to be cared for.

And it takes time, but maybe there comes a day when Jason looks Tim in the eye and tells him that he's important and valuable and incredibly loved regardless of whether or not he's needed. Maybe it take a few years before Tim believes him, and when he does, he hugs Jason and cries into his arms, but it's okay because Jason knew it would happen sooner or later, and it's okay, it's okay, he has tissues.

Maybe Jason apologizes for what happened at the Tower and Tim admits that he forgave him for that a while ago.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Who could say for sure?

[bruciemilf]

Don’t you just love it when toxic father figures.

Loved this Jacob & Bruce piece inspired by this post that I couldn’t resist posting it by itself <3

[arandomao3user]

. . . Tim Drake having health issues incorrect quotes because f#-$ this fandom, I love Tim Drake and anyone who hates him hates me >:/

This... This turned out a lot angst-er than what I meant. It was supposed to be funny :/

I think I made it depressing???

(This actually happened to me five minutes ago and inspired me to write this.)

Bernard, talking about some conspiracy while lying beside Tim:

Tim, scrolling on his phone, abruptly stopping to gasp for air and slowly lie himself down:

Bernard: Tim?? Tim are you okay?

Tim, waving him off as he holds his arms above his head and slowly takes deep breathes:

Bernard: Tim!?

Tim, exhaling deeply: One sec. Sorry. My lungs aren't getting oxygen or something.

Bernard: ???

Tim, after ten minutes, slowly sits up and takes slow sips of water while still visibly out of breath: Okay. Good now. Continue.

Bernard: ?!?!?

—

Tim, mid swing, losing his of his grapple and falling: FU—

Jason: Uh, I think Red Robin just committed suicide.

Dick, catching him before he hits the ground, landing on a nearby roof: WHAT HAPPENED!?

Tim: Ugh, yeah, sorry, that happens.

Dick: WHAT!?

Tim: I just loose grip of things sometimes.

Dick: Tim.

Bruce, landing: That's extremely dangerous, why haven't you mentioned it to any of us?

Tim: Didn't feel like it.

—

Tim, having a visibly bad day, squeezing a stress ball several times:

Tim's hand losing grip of said stress ball for no damn reason except his body hates him:

Tim, instantly breaking down in tears:

Bruce: Uh, meeting over?

Bruce: Tim, Tim, it's okay...

Tim: I HATE MY STUPID BODY!

Bruce: I know, I know, shh...

—

(TW: Eating disorder? Eh, probably an eating disorder. I'm not diagnosed with one though.)

Tim, glaring down at a plate of food:

Duke: Uh, you good man?

Tim: I am starving.

Duke: . . . Then eat?

Tim: It should be that easy, shouldn't it?

Duke: Uh, should I get someone?

Tim: Cass, preferably.

Duke, leaving: Uh, yeah, sure.

Tim, glaring at the plate of food:

Cass: Can't eat?

Tim: It makes me sick just looking at it, but I'm so hungry, Cass! I haven't eaten in two days! I just wanna eat but everything I look at makes me sick! I can't even think about eating it.

Cass: . . . What do you wanna eat?

Tim: Nothing healthy...

Cass: Want to go get Dairy Queen and sit in a quiet, dimly lit place with music, alone, so you can eat?

Tim, sniffling: Yes, please.

—

Tim, making out with Bernard:

Tim, hissing abruptly as the sole of his foot cramps so bad he thinks it's gonna shrivel up and fall off: F*#&$!

Bernard: Tim? Tim, what is it?

Tim, messaging his sole through gritted teeth: Just a cramp, one second.

Bernard: Yeah, okay...

—

Tim, laying down, glaring at the ceiling: . . .

Tim, slowly lifting his arm to check his heart rate: . . . Go. Down. You. Pathetic. Trash.

Bernard, beside him: You can just lay in bed today, Timboo.

Tim: I don't want to. I wanna be able to stand without my heart protesting... Hey, get me caffeine.

Bernard: Tim, that makes your heart rate go up.

Tim: Not mine, for some reason it goes down.

Bernard: . . . What?

Tim: Yeah, weird, it works though.

Bernard, slowly grabbing caffeine pills: This is gonna end so bad.

(Yeah, it works for my body, not sure why. My cardiologist told me to drink more coffee :/)

—

Tim, about to have a breakdown of some kind, walking right into the sitting room where he can only find Jason: Jason. Lie on me.

Jason: Excuse me?

Tim, lying down on the couch: Lie on me. Crush me. Weighed blankets aren't doing it. I need to be squeezed to death.

Jason: I... 'kay???

Jason, texting Bruce real quick to see if this is normal before lying on Tim: Good?

Tim: Yes. Thank you.

Jason: ???

—

Damian: Are you even listening to me?!

Tim: Huh? Oh, sorry.

Tim, turning his head away: Can you repeat that?

Damian: . . . Why aren't you looking at me?

Tim: I hear better when I'm not looking at the person speaking.

Damian: wha...

—

Tim, making a literal nest of blankets on his bed in the manor: There!

Tim, curling into a fetal position in the center: >:3

Tim: . . . Hm. DICK!

Dick: Yeah, Baby bird?

Tim: Get in my nest.

Dick: Okay :D

Dick, climbing in and cuddling him: Good?

Tim: Better. Thanks. Now I'm safe and the images in my head won't kill me :)

Dick: Glad to hear it!

—

Stephanie: Uh, you good?

Tim, shaking so bad he can't even grip anything, teeth chattering audibly: Fine. I'm just. Going. Into shock. I have. Real bad. Rib pain.

Stephanie: Are you injured? Dude, lie down!

Tim, breathing very slow and shallow: No. If. I. Lie. Down. I won't. Be able. To. Get. Back up. It. Hurts. A lot. Not. Injured. Just happens.

Stephanie: BATMAN!?

—

Tim, losing his balance and gripping the counter tops for dear life:

Bernard: Tim!?

Tim: Fine! I'm fine! It happens!

—

Tim, zoning out:

Stephanie: Tim?

Tim:

Stephanie: Timmy?

Tim:

Stephanie: . . . Timmm???

Tim, blinking rapidly: Huh?

Stephanie: You were staring into space?

Tim: Was I? Weird. Anyways!

—

Tim: You... *incoherent sentence*

Harley: . . . What?

Ivy: You okay?

Tim, rebooting:

Harley: Okay, I think we did to much. Honey, you good?

Ivy: Should we call Batman..?

Harley, pulling her phone out: Already on it.

Tim, slowly lowering himself to the ground: I'm fine! I am... Fine. One second, my brain isn't... Brain-ing.

Ivy: I'll get him some water.

Harley, whispering: Bats is on his way.

—

Tim, standing up from the dining table before immediately sitting down: Ooooooow...

Bruce: What's wrong, Tim?

Tim: Knees.

Jason: Did ya injure 'em on patrol?

Tim: No. It's cold out.

Jason: So??

Bruce: Tim's knees act up in the cold.

Dick: Did you compress them?

Tim: . . . No.

Bruce: Tim, now they're gonna be swollen.

Tim: I know! I know...

Cass: . . . I will help him to his room and elevate his legs.

Tim: Thanks.

Cass: No problem.

—

Tim, slowly petting Ace while staring at the roof:

Ace, laying on him: :3

Bruce: Ace?! Where are y...

Tim:

Ace:

Bruce:

Bruce: Never mind.

—

Tim, randomly side dodging something that isn't there:

Bruce: ??? Tim, what's wrong?

Tim: Sorry, the corner vision people again.

Jason: The what?

Tim: Figures that appear in the corner of my vision, no worries.

Jason: !?

Bruce: Oh, okay. Let's continue patrol.

Jason: !?!?

—

Tim, clutching his stomach while zoned out:

Damian: . . ?

Bruce, lecturing them all after they probably blew something up:

Jason: . . .

Dick: Uh, B?

Bruce: What is it, Nightwing?

Jason: Red Robin looks like he's about to die.

Tim: Why do you all sound underwater?

Damian: Wha—

Dick, catching Tim as he goes limp: Red!?

Tim: I'm fine. Just. Uh. My ears are numb?

Bruce, sighing: Take him to the med bay.

Jason: Is he okay?

Damian: In which way? Because the answer to any of them is a hard no.

Bruce: Hrn...

—

Tim, sitting down before his whole body spasms and he blinks several times: ..?

Duke: Dude did you just have a seizure?!

Tim: No, full body muscle spasm.

Duke: That ain't a thing.

Tim: Sure it is.

Duke: Brother, you're dying.

Tim, chuckling: I wish.

Duke, visibly concerned:

—

[ktkat99]

Chapter 10

Bruce and Tim help each other deal when their depression gets to be too much

[kaciart]

Day 10 Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill

-

Patreon | Ko-Fi

[shortbcofkoffee]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 Next >

CW: Cursing, child abuse via parentification

Bruce didn’t cry. He never cried. Bruce whined and sulked, but he never cried. Tim hated it when Bruce whined and sulked. He hated when Bruce acted like a kicked puppy because he had to take care of him. Tim thinks Alfred is happy he doesn’t have to do it anymore. Bruce is well into his 40s; he shouldn’t need this. Either way, Tim is closing Bruce’s bedroom door behind him and turning to the man in bed.

“Alfred wants you to come to dinner.” Tim sits on the foot of the bed, placing a hand on Bruce’s calf. The man is facing away from him, lying down but not pretending to sleep.

“I’m fine.”

Tim sucks his teeth and furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce shrugs and curls into himself. 

Tim purses his lips. “C’mon, chum. You can tell me.” Tim swallows and his stomach twists. He tells himself that it feels numb on his lips. He’d says he’s long past feeling gross, disgusted with himself, as he gently runs his thumb back and forth over Bruce’s calf. Bruce needs this, he reminds himself. He needs me.

“It’s nothing, I just-... It’s nothing.”

Tim frowned, Bruce wasn’t usually one to share but still. “Is it a case?” He knew Jason had mentioned one. Something about a seemingly normal family leaving their kid with the Falcones before the parents were murdered. It wasn’t the type of thing to stress Bruce out but it was the only one Tim could think of. Bruce didn’t answer. “Okay, well, you don’t need to tell me. But let's get some food in you, yeah?”

Bruce shifted but made no attempt to get up. Tim sighed.

“Alright, chum, I’ll bring dinner to you. Just wait here.” Tim patted his leg and stood up.

“Thanks, Dad,” Bruce said as Tim reached the door.

His eye twitched. “Anytime.”

When he steps out of the dark bedroom, he’s Brother Tim, the Tim the rest of the Waynes like. He makes his way to the dining room where everyone is filing in. Luckily it wasn’t everyone tonight. Just Tim, Dick, Cass, Jason, and Damian. They all sat at the table in their unofficial spots. Tim usually sat between Bruce and Dick with Cass right across from him. He eyed his seat, thinking maybe he could ask Alfred to bring the plate. He wanted to sit down and eat. Dick raised an eyebrow as Tim passed his chair.

“You’re not gonna sit down?”

Tim shook his head. “I will in a minute, Bruce isn’t coming down so I’m bringing him food.”

Jason scoffed. “Why do you need to bring it, ask Alfred.”

God, he wanted to. “Alfred does enough, I’ll do it.”

He could feel their eyes as he quickly moved past them to the kitchen. Alfred is there, garnishing a casserole. The Butler meets his eyes and frowns.

“I assume Master Bruce has elected to stay in his room?”

Tim nods. “I’m gonna fix him a plate.”

Tim thinks Alfred knows because Alfred somehow knows everything. Maybe he doesn’t know how far it’s gone, but he knows. He also needs Tim, but not for himself like everyone else. He needs Tim for Bruce. 

Alfred hums. “Master Timothy, please come here. I want to show you something.” Tim stepped closer, watching as Alfred cut a perfect square out of his casserole. “Master Bruce has a very particular way he likes to be served. You’d do well to memorize it. All foods must be separated by one-third of an inch, vegetables should be opposite the meat. He drinks milk right after his water, if he plans to sleep right after dinner crush two valium pills and mix it well into his milk. If they’re fully dissolved he won’t notice the difference.”

Tim nodded along. God, this was so final. He already knew most of this but Alfred never took the time to actually teach him. It took the butler less than a minute to finish Bruce’s plate, he placed it on a tray with two glasses of milk and water. He handed Tim the tray and sent him on his way.

Tim felt eyes on him again as he passed back through the dining room. There’s a pang of anxiety in his chest telling him they know, they know. He doesn’t know what he’d do if they did. They’d be disgusted, disgusted with Tim for going along with this for so long. They’d think he’s a freak, that somehow he enjoys this. Tim doesn’t know how he’d handle it. 

The walk to Bruce’s room was quiet, the whole manor was quiet. Tim had mixed feelings about long, quiet halls. It meant he was alone; either for the moment or months on end. It was lonely but there was a freedom in that emptiness. He didn’t have responsibilities, he could do whatever, whenever, however. No one was watching him, he didn’t need to be anyone. Tim took a deep breath in. As long as he was in this hallway, he’d be fine. Unfortunately, he was only a few yards from Bruce’s door.

He balanced the tray in one hand and opened the door with the other.

“I’m coming in, chum.”

Bruce turned over in his bed and sat up. “What did Alfred make?”

“Hamburger casserole, broccoli, and turmeric rice. If you want dessert, though, you’ll have to come downstairs.” Tim placed the tray on Bruce’s lap. “Spend time with your kids.”

Bruce stared blankly at his food. “What’s for dessert?”

“Tiramisu, I think. Your favorite.”

Bruce nodded and started to eat. 

Tim ruffled his hair, letting Bruce lean into his touch for a moment. It’s… a lot. “Come down when you’re ready.”

Tim was two steps from the door when Bruce spoke again.

“Wait. Dad…”

Tim turned around and shifted his weight onto one leg. “What’s up, bud?”

Bruce didn’t meet his eyes and poked the food. “Recently I was made aware of… a situation.”

“Uh-huh.” Tim walked back to the bed next to Bruce.

“Jason has let me know about a development in a cold case involving the Falcones.” So he was right. “There was a child involved. I found him, he’s… traumatized. He saw them kill his parents, he told me and I just- I… He doesn’t want to leave the Falcones. He told me he loved it there, they were nice to him. And I just left him. He wouldn’t come with me, he fought so much, I left him.” 

Tim pouted. “I’m sorry that happened, bud. You think you’ll go back for him?”

Bruce leaned onto Tim’s shoulder. “Jason said he’d deal with it. I just wish I did some more. I could’ve, I can, I just. It’d be encroaching on Jason’s territory. Where they’re keeping him. I should do something. I can.”

Tim wrapped an arm around Bruce’s shoulder and scratched his scalp. It felt weird, warm. Bruce had probably washed it earlier, poorly, but at least it was washed. “Yeah, Jason has been on edge with you hasn’t he?” Bruce nodded. “It’ll be alright, bud. Jason can handle this, and besides, this case could be a lot for you. I think you should sit this one out instead of beating yourself up about it.” Tim unwrapped his arm. “Okay?”

“Alright.”

“Good. I’m gonna go eat dinner, you can come down for dessert.”

Tim finally got away, slipping off the bed and out the door. When Tim steps outside the room again and walks a few feet before leaning against the wall. He pressed his forehead against the red wallpaper and placed a hand over his stomach. He doesn’t want to touch anyone ever again. His stomach is churning with that familiar weird feeling. It’d go away soon, a few minutes to a few days, but it’d go away. This wasn’t weird. This isn’t- Bruce needs this, he needs this. As long as Bruce needed him, Tim would be there. He couldn’t just abandon Bruce. His hand gripped his shirt and he took a deep breath. He was okay. Tim stood up straight and walked back to the dining room.

He slid back into his seat next to Dick and Bruce’s empty chair. Alfred already put his plate out, just how he liked. Tim looked around the table at the subtle differences on the other’s plates. He wondered if they noticed and if this would be his life from now on, learning the specific ways he needed to care for everyone. If it’s like that he’s happy only Bruce needs him. He was prepared for a few questions, it’d be weird if he didn’t get any. Bruce’s kids would be worried about him even if they hated to admit it.

“You’ve been fussing over the old man a bit much lately,” Jason started.

“I guess,” Tim shrugged as he began to eat. Had it been more than usual lately? It felt a little less frequent. 

“Is he okay?” Dick asked.

Tim frowned. “He’s upset about a case.” He nodded at Jason. “One of yours, actually. About the kid with the Falcones. He’s eating himself up because he wants to help the kid but he doesn’t want to piss you off. I told him you could handle it.”

“Thank God,” Jason huffed. “That asshole keeps straining my alliances every time he steps foot in the alley.”

“How old is the kid? We don’t need him trying to take another kid in,” Dick joked.

That seemed to satisfy the table as they all went back to eating and their individual conversations. Mainly small talk and meaningless arguments, Tim wanted to contribute but he still felt weird. He felt awful. The food didn't settle the churning in his stomach, unfortunately, the feeling was here to stay. Begrudgingly, his thoughts wandered back to Bruce. What would he need next? When? He could feel the man’s hair on his hand still. It was warm and a little greasy from product that hadn't been washed out. Tim roughly swallowed. He didn't like this feeling. He should be grateful, if it wasn't for this he wouldn't be needed here. Of course, he was CEO of Wayne Enterprises but his professional relationships weren't fulfilling enough to replace personal ones. He needed Bruce to feel useful. Bruce needed him to feel better. It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t disgusting. Tim was okay with it.

He didn't want to finish his dinner. He didn't want to be here when Bruce came down for dessert. Oh God, he’ll probably have to put him to bed if he’s still upset after dinner. He stood with his only half-empty plate and started to the kitchen. Cass grabbed the back of his shirt and tapped him twice, asking where he was going.

“Ah, I'm done eating. Wasn’t too hungry anyway.”

Cass frowned but waved him off but Dick stopped him too. 

“Hold on, Timmy, dude, you barely ate.”

“I'm not hungry,” he reiterated. “And besides, I have a meeting with some shareholders tomorrow, I need to prepare.” A lie so quick it surprised even him. “Do you want my food?”

Before Dick could answer Damian slammed a hand on the table. “Drake! Give me your vegetables!”

Tim quickly dumped his food on Damian's plate and walked to the kitchen. Alfred was still there, preparing dessert, and to Tim’s luck, it was actually Tiramisu. So now he didn’t accidentally lie to Bruce. 

“Should I throw this out or keep the leftovers?” He asked Alfred.

The old man looked between him and the plate a few times. “You only ate one thing.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Just place it on the counter, I’ll deal with it.”

Tim muttered a thanks as he did and left. Unfortunately, always unfortunate for Tim Drake-Wayne, Bruce was there. Smiling at his kids, carrying his tray to the kitchen. Tim didn’t have to look closely at Bruce anymore. Every line crinkle was there whether he liked it or not. He could read Bruce’s face better than anyone he knew and he hated it. Bruce’s smile faltered a little when he was Tim but no one seemed to notice. It wasn’t weird , he reminded himself. He brushed past Tim with a “hey.” The interaction was short and impersonal but it didn’t make the feeling go away. Tim left the dining room. Bruce would probably go to the cave tonight, to look over whatever he’s working on. By tomorrow morning only Dick would be back in Bludhaven and Cass and Jason would be back at their apartments. Tim hoped he wouldn’t have to scold Bruce for staying up too late. 

Tim’s lungs felt light like the air was barely tickling them. He wanted to sleep, he’d set an alarm for three and if Bruce was still up he’d drag him to bed. Soon enough he was in a quiet hallway again. Just alone with no one watching. He jumped as high as possible, fingers barely touching the high ceiling. Tim liked being alone for these small bits of time when he felt like this. It gave him just a little release when he did little things with no one else around. He jumped again. He wants to go on patrol. He wants to jump from building to building and breathe in the night air. He should do it soon, tomorrow maybe.

Tim reached his room, set his alarm for three, and let himself relax into his pillow. Bruce has been better lately, this case was gonna be a huge setback, especially if it involved Jason. Tim hated to say it because it wasn’t true but every problem he had with Bruce was because of Jason. Tim knew it wasn’t fair to blame him, he had no stake in how Bruce would mourn him, but if he never died in the first place… That was so unfair. It made Tim feel disgusting for even thinking that. Bruce wasn’t entirely to blame either, no one is how they mourn. Tim took the role of caretaker quickly and easily, it was a lot, especially for a thirteen-year-old, but Tim could take it. Tim could take everything. He did and will.

Tim didn't know when he fell asleep or if he had a dream but the alarm clock on his bedside table was screaming. Tim groggily rolled over and hit it off. If Bruce wasn't in the cave Tim could go back to sleep sooner. If he was, Tim would have to drag him to bed. Bruce needed as much sleep as possible, the holidays were coming up and that always put Batman on overtime. Tim got out of bed and dragged himself over to Bruce’s room, but of course, he wasn't there. Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He found his way down to the cave and followed the sound of typing to the Batcomputer. 

“It's late.” Tim came up behind Bruce.

“I'm working.”

“And you'll have time to work tomorrow. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you wake up.” He put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “C'mon let's get you to bed.” 

Bruce made no effort to move and Tim leaned on his shoulder. 

“I’ll go to bed soon.”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Listen, bud, I’m not going to sleep until you do. And I’m tired.”

“No one is asking you to do that.”

“I know you’re tired too. You’re not at your best when you’re tired, you could slip up and miss something.”

“I won’t. I slept yesterday, I’ll be fine.”

Fair, Bruce could easily stay awake for three to four days without shutting down. Unfortunately, with the aforementioned holidays, sleep would be few and far between. “Yeah, well I’m not asking. We’re going to bed.” Tim looked up at the screen. “What are you even working on?”

“I told you. The case with the Falcone kid. I haven’t updated the report yet.”

“I thought I told you to let Jason deal with it.”

“I can help.”

“He doesn’t want your help.” 

Bruce paused his typing for a moment before resuming. “Did he tell you that?”

“I told him that I told you to let him deal with it. He didn’t thank me but he was appreciative.” Tim pulled away from Bruce’s shoulder making the man twitch. “Besides, I don’t want you working this case. It won’t be good for you.”

Bruce just grunted, an unintelligible one that meant he was acknowledging but ultimately ignoring you. It’s like a toddler throwing a quiet tantrum.

“You know I’m right. C’mon, chum, let’s go to bed,” he tried again. The man didn’t answer. “Okay?” He said with more force. Bruce silently saved the report he was working on and logged off. “Thank you. See that wasn’t so hard.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Bruce grumbled. 

“Mm-hm.” Tim held out a hand and pulled Bruce from his chair.

Bruce held onto his hand as they started to walk, he seemed like he needed it. He didn’t let go until they were halfway to his room. Bruce, for someone who craved it so much, hated physical affection. He only accepted it from certain people. Alfred was one since he raised him practically by himself. His kids, obviously, he’d never turn down a hug from one of them, he actually hoped for it. Though Tim had never personally seen it, according to others Bruce didn’t seem to mind being touched by Clark Kent. Lastly, there was Tim. Tim was the only person Bruce reached out to first for affection. Usually just a hand on his shoulder or arm but sometimes Bruce wanted a hug or a hand to hold. It was always over quicker than it happened when Bruce acted first. 

Once he got Bruce to his room it was 3:14. He could still get a good amount of sleep and still be good in the morning. He yawned as he walked the dark halls back to his room. Sleep would be good, Bruce was exhausting. TIm just wanted to melt into his pillow and disappear forever. Tim jumped, almost yelped as he turned a corner and came face to face with a mop of white and black hair. Jason stared at him quietlywith his jaw locked in anger. Neither of them spoke but Jason nodded in the direction of the library. Jason was here, why was he here? Tim hadn’t noticed him come in so it must’ve been when he was dealing with Bruce. 

Oh, God, had he seen him with Bruce? The seeing wasn’t the hard part Tim knew how to lie and deflect. He could say that he asked Bruce to hold hands. It wouldn’t explain why it looked like he was guiding Bruce but it was a start. The hearing was the bad part. If Jason had heard the end of their conversation Tim doesn’t know. An inside joke maybe? That was the only thing Tim could think of at the moment. He bit his lip nervously. The disgusting feeling was back. His hands and feet felt heavy. Tim was tired, he just wanted to sleep.

“Why are you here?” He asked nervously.

“Left my commlink in the cave. Came back to get it,” Jason said.

“Ah.”

So he was in the cave. When they entered the library Jason sat down in one of the lounge chairs and motioned for Tim to sit across from him.

“The fuck was that?” Jason started.

“What was what?”

Jason leaned forward and sighed. “Okay. Are you… okay?” He asked through gritted teeth.

The question felt weird coming from Jason. “Fine. Why?”

“I heard you talking to Bruce.”

Tim is pretty sure all the color left in his face drains. He’s pretty sure Jason noticed it too. “Oh.”

“So are you okay?”

Tim pinched his fingertip with the opposite hand. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just- just forget what you heard, okay? It’s nothing weird, just an inside joke, y’know?” Tim feels a little stupid for deflecting immediately. He could’ve played it off better, but the mental exhaustion was getting to him.

“It didn’t sound like a joke.”

Tim pinched harder, sinking his nails into his skin. “Then you misread the situation.”

Jason leaned back, splaying his arms over the back of the chair. “Alright humor me. What’s the joke then.”

“If I explained it it wouldn’t be very “inside” anymore. It’s private.”

“Kay, so how long have you and him had this private “joke.””

Tim grimaced. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not. Just answer.”

Tim scoffed. “Why do you care? It’s a joke me and Bruce have, that’s it.”

“Why do I-?! Why do I care?! You know I kill abusers?”

Tim took a deep breath in and rolled his eyes. “Don’t call it abuse just because you think it’s weird. I get it, you don’t buy the joke thing but that’s all it is.”

Jason was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh my God, is that why he listens to you? Because you have this dad thing going on?”

Tim’s stomach churned. God, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to run away and hide under his cover until this was all over. “Nothing’s going on, leave it alone.”

“Listen, I’m trying to help you.”

Jason? Help Tim? When he was the reason for this in the first place? Tim couldn’t help but smile at the irony. “Yeah right. I don’t need any help, it’s fine. If it makes you feel better, I started it, not Bruce.”

“So, what, you started calling Bruce “ chum” and shit.” Tim almost gagged. “And he just went along with it?”

“It’s complicated, okay? Bruce needs someone to deal with him.”

“Why not Alfred? That’s literally his job.”

“It’s different-”

“Is it? Alfred’s practically raised him and I don’t see Bruce calling him dad.”

“It’s different,” Tim repeated. “You weren’t there, you don’t know.”

“Okay then explain it. I’ve got all night.”

Tim clenched his jaw and glared at Jason. “I’m going to bed.” He started to stand but a throwing knife stuck into the bookshelf behind him, barely missing his head.

“Sit. Explain.”

Tim sat back down. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“When did this start?”

“Four or five years ago.”

Jason hummed. “That’s what you meant by I wasn’t there. Alright then, why is he calling you dad?”

That one was loaded. Tim wasn’t a psychic, he couldn’t read Bruce’s mind. He only had his best guess. “He likes to be parented. Talking to him like he’s a teenager sometimes helps when you need him to do something. Like shower or eat.”

“So… you act like his dad because he’s an overgrown teenager.”

“No. He only acts like that when he’s depressed, or stressed, or wasted.”

“Bruce doesn’t drink.”

“Not when you guys are around. He used to drink himself stupid after you died. That’s also why it’s me and not Alfred. Alfred was grieving too, Bruce wasn’t something he needed to deal with.” 

“So you took Alfred’s place.”

“Only when he needed it.”

“But it never stopped. You’re still doing this weird shit just to make him feel better.”

“He still needs me. I can’t abandon him.” Tim shifted uncomfortably.

“Tim, you’re 17, Bruce isn’t your responsibility.”

“He is. I need to take care of him. You don’t understand, you don’t get how bad he needs me.”

“You’re right, I don’t. He’s grown, he doesn’t need you.”

“Well he does, okay? And I’ll do it until he stops needing me.”

“Do you think of him as your son?”

Tim was silent. He didn’t like to, it made him feel gross to say it so he’d never actually verbalized it before. “It… can make it easier.”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t get you. Both of you know how fucked up this is, you kept it a secret this whole time. You’re clearly feeling shitty about it, you just never said anything. He’s not threatening you, is he?”

“He’s not threatening me, I just… He needs me. That’s all there is to it.” Tim was tired. He wanted to go to bed. “We didn’t tell anyone because we knew you would react like this. You’d think it was weird.”

“It is.”

“You’re not even making an effort to understand. You don’t get it.”

“Oh, believe me, I get it. I get all there is to get. Tim, I’m sure you know this, but I don’t like you. I think you’re a stain and you never should’ve been Robin. But I’m on your side, I’m trying to help you . Because I’m supposed to protect people like you.”

“I’m not a victim, Red Hood, I’m telling you, I’m just taking care of him.”

“You don’t need to.”

“We’re talking in circles. It’s fine if you don’t get it, just don’t tell anyone and keep it alone. Me and Bruce are fine, this has worked for years. If I left Bruce wouldn’t be able to pick himself up again. I can take care of him as long as he needs me.”

“Do you want to?”

Tim rubbed his arm. He didn’t, he liked feeling needed but he didn’t want to do this. But that’s how it was, it was how Bruce needed him. Since he couldn’t, he wouldn’t change a thing. “Yeah.” He felt disgusting.

Jason raised his hands in surrender. “Then I’ll leave it alone. But if I find out something I don’t like, I’ll act. Trust me, I will.”

Tim finally pushed himself out of the chair. “Thank you. I’m going to bed, it’s late.”

Jason stayed behind in the library leaving Tim alone in the long dark hallway. He was alone again, he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding before his chest sank again. Oh God, someone knew. Jason knew, probably the last person Tim wanted to know. Jason had called Bruce an abuser and threatened to kill him. That’s the last thing Tim needed. He wanted to sleep, he should sleep.

.

The fic that inspired it here

[arianaofimladris]

Whumptober 2023 entry

Fandom: Batman (Nolan's trilogy), Batman Begins specifically

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth

Summary: Batman saves Gotham. Bruce Wayne gets drunk and burns down his house. Alfred is there to pick up the pieces. A missing scene for Barman Begins (after the final fight)

- no. 5 - debris

- no. 13 - "I don't feel so good"

- no. 15 - "I'm fine"

- no. 20 - found family

“Come now, Master Bruce. You’re a bit too old for falling asleep in the car.”

“In a minute.” Bruce flashed him a tired smile, then accepted his outstretched hand. He stumbled out and immediately leaned back against the car, clutching at his right side. He didn’t remember it hurting this much before. 

“A bit too big for me to carry you too, if I may say so.”

[thatshadowgastwhore]

I come bearing Tim, Jason, and Bruce angst.

Ever think about the fact that Jason had to be the adult when it came to his relationship with his mother? That the roles were reversed and the child had to look after the parent when she was at her most self destructive, had to be the one looking out for her to try to keep her safe from herself, and from his perspective, he failed. He wasn’t enough. Catherine died. (Obviously Jason bears no actual fault in her death, he was a child, but that doesn’t mean he believes that)

And with Bruce, pre death, Jason and Bruce had an excellent father/son relationship. At no point pre death were those roles reversed and Jason had to be the adult for Bruce. Bruce was a loving father, he wanted to keep Jason safe and it allowed Jason to be more of a child. It showed him what a parent should be for their child, unlike what he learned from Willis and later Catherine as she devolved.

You know what Jason does not witness? Bruce in the aftermath of his death. He doesn’t see Bruce spiral and become violent like Willis or self destructive like Catherine. He never has to witness Bruce as less than an ideal parent. He also never witnesses that the person who steps up to emotionally support Bruce and pull him out of his spiral is another child. A child taking on the role of caretaker for an adult.

Jason’s greatest trauma is his death, but his first trauma is Willis and Catherine. Bruce would never tell Jason the extent to which he fell apart. Tim would never divulge the information willingly. Bruce was so grief stricken, he barely remembers his time after Jason’s death, he blocks it out.

Jason may hate Bruce for not killing the joker, but he’ll never hate Bruce for becoming (briefly) like Willis and Catherine. Because he’ll never know. He’ll hate Tim for taking his place in the family, and never know Tim became like him in so many more ways than becoming Robin.

Tim knows on an informational level what Jason’s time was like pre-Bruce. He studied the family, he’s a researcher, his pattern recognition skills (literally how he unmasked Batman) are too great for him not to know the basics, but he doesn’t know the emotional level it would have scarred Jason. But even without that, he’ll never tell him what happened while Jason was dead. Even if it means Jason resents him. He’s going to take that secret to his grave.

Jason will never know that they have that in common. He doesn’t need to. It’ll only hurt more. (He can never tell anyone)