#cw: ed vent

[saddi3grl]

I hate all food but at the same time I love it so much.

I hate my ed but at the same time I'm addicted to it.

[shortbcofkoffee]

Cw: Disordered Eating/ED

Tim is keenly aware of what is like to not be able to eat. Not because he has no access to food or he's fasting. Sometimes he just can't. It's too much, just the thought of eating. Usually, he can swallow any resistance from his brain and finish his plate. He doesn't like worrying people.

Bruce had picked up on it when he first started staying at the manor, and for what it's worth, he'd been very accommodating. He never made Tim finish anything he didn't want, instead allowing Tim to snack over the day to make sure he had enough calories. But Tim still hid his... habit from the rest of his family. Whenever they were around, he forced himself to finish his food, ignoring the looks Bruce gave him.

But he couldn't tonight. He just... it was a lot. There were baked beans and half a sandwich still on his plate, and he just couldn't. He stared at the mountain of food in front of him, more than a little overwhelmed. Bruce was looking at him, he could tell. That wasn't unusual, but his brothers were staring too. He'd been sitting there, in silence, staring with no explanation. He was sure he looked like a zombie or something.

"Do you want Alfred to wrap your plate?" Bruce asked.

Tim swallowed around nothing. He shook his head. "I can finish," he said, picking up his fork.

"You don't have to."

Tim's face burned in embarrassment. He could finish his plate; he was physically able to do so. It was just that weird mental block stopping him. It was that weird mental block that made his hand stop as soon as his fork made contact with the beans. It was the mental block that made him swallow back tears at the thought of lifting the fork to his mouth.

"What? Are you too good for Alfred's cooking now?" Jason said.

"Be quiet, Jason," Bruce said quickly before his voice softened. "Tim, why don't you take your plate to the kitchen?"

Tim nodded emptily and gathered his plate and utensils. His face was red as he walked into the kitchen. He wrapped his plate in silence and placed in the fridge. Tim stopped in front of the door before stepping back out to the dining room. He'd have to pass everyone when he left.

He could hear voices. Not exactly hushed, but quieter than a normal conversation. They were talking about him, most likely. He'd been out of character tonight. His thoughts were confirmed when he heard his name spoken.

"Since when does Tim get special dinner treatment? You never let me leave the table without finishing," Jason complained.

"That is a little unfair, B," Dick said.

"Tim is different," Bruce said simply. "I also let Dick have dessert before dinner when he was younger."

"I'm not allowed to leave without finishing my food either," Damian said.

"You would be if you gave me a good reason," Bruce stated.

"What, so Tim has a good reason?"

"Yes."

Tim could at least thank Bruce for keeping it a secret. He didn't want them to know about this. It made him feel weak. It made him weak. On the days he couldn't eat anything, he'd lie in bed, weak and shaking from hunger. He'd have to force himself to the kitchen and swallow the smallest, easiest thing to eat. But even then, it'd just stop the shakes. He'd still be hungry, he'd still be weak. And he'd let himself be weak. Because he was in a kitchen full of food, and he couldn't touch any of it.

Tim stepped back into the dining room. Back into the stares of his brothers. His throat was thick, he didn't want to speak. He did anyway.

"I'm going to the cave."

Bruce nodded. "Check my utility belt before we leave." Bruce always kept snacks in his utility belt for Tim, for days like these.

Dick leaned on the table with his elbows. "Timmy, what's your secret? How come you get to leave early?"

Tim plastered on a fake smile. "Secret."

He left before anyone could ask anything else.