#god the angst of Bruce being unable to sleep after three days awake

[frownyalfred]

reading about the explorer who spent six or so months in an underground cave and learned that without any light, his body settled into a cycle where he was up for 36 hours and would then sleep for 12 hours.

anyway, that’s all to say - maybe Bruce’s odd sleep/patrol habits have more to do with light than I realized. maybe he really can stay up for what feels like “days” to observers but is really just an extended wake cycle without natural circadian rhythm cues like sunrise/sunset. he can work a case for 36-48 hours straight because he’s crashing like crazy in between.

that also means that if he gets too much daylight/etc while deep in a wake cycle, he probably loses some degree of focus and energy. something that Alfred and even Clark, perhaps, take advantage of when they just want him to go. the fuck. to sleep.

[crypterion-moon]

Tiamat: Rise in Shadow p.1

Summary: His name used to be Tim, once Robin, then Red Robin, then everything just turned Red. Now he’s a shadow of the young man he used to be, not even a shadow. A monster with the face of Timothy Drake Jackson that loved to sleep with strangers and kill when it suited him.

But his time is coming and he must make his choices or be swallowed up by the past, not even his newfound family can save him from that.

Tags: Vampires, a bit of angst, supernatural

A/N: This chapter was written and not corrected, so apologies for the amateurish writing and typos but AO3 already has this so no point in trying to change anything now

Movement beside him, the bed suddenly bereft of a presence shifted Tiamareshka awake. Far too early for his taste. He cracked open one lazy eye and saw the light seeping through. He promptly shut it again. Any point in the day was too early for Tiamareshka , he had never claimed to be a morning person. Unluckily, the person next to him was and work was very important for humans in this society. The sounds of pants, shirts being pulled on, belt buckles being done and a clear thud of the hone on the dresser reached his ears, it felt refreshing to hear such domestic sounds. To not work and earn your living is a failure in the eyes of your mother and father, to not contribute to society is to be a burden. Nothing to do with Tiamareshka  though, he planned to laze around in the stranger's bed for while longer. At least until night falls again. He rolled over on his side, his arms curled up at his chest and facing the wall, he muttered something unintelligible, which comes out in a soft groan. The bed dipped again, this time Tiamareshka  could feel lips trailing and kissing their way down his body, from his curled shoulder along each rib, the blanket that covered the lower half of his body was lifted as the man planted a few soft, lingering pecks on his hip.

“Morning beautiful.”

Tiamareshka  let out a soft moan, just to tease, “Mmmm, don't you have work today?”

“I wish I didn't.”

Tiamareshka  smirked, his body curled up slightly more, raising his hips slightly higher for some more kisses which his partner for the night happily obliged, his hands stroking along his legs and slipping in between Tiamareshka 's pale thighs.

“Will I see you again sometime?”

Tiamareshka  hummed with approval, “Same place after dark.”

“Okay,” the man grinned nibbling playfully at Tiamareshka 's ear, “I'll see you soon.”

Tiamareshka  listened to the rustling of clothes, and the closet. He heard the man leave the room and pick up his keys for the bowl in the hallway, and the door clicked shut.

He thought about letting himself turn a bit, just some black smoke so he could return without having to physically get up and walk, his body ached deliciously though. Last night was fun and satisfying in one go, though the man was far too tender for his comfort. The idea was that it would just be a once off, non-committal thing where the two of them could have fun but it seemed more like this guy was looking for something more but wasn't aware of it. Tiamareshka  wriggled about under the covers and took in the scent that clung to the bedsheets, the scent of another human was so addictive. Such a sweet man but rather desperate and lonely, it would be a shame to kill him, even by accident.

The smell and presence of humans, was almost too much in the small space that was this seedy club, and Tiamareshka  loved it. He could taste the energy flowing and permeating the air. His hunting place, his one stop for a bit of fun and food.

The hip-hop trance mix that pulsed around the club was a bit on the obnoxious side but not totally intolerable, the laser light that swirled around the floor was quite irritating so he'd settled himself on the other end of the place where a warm light filled the bar and lounge area still in view of the dancefloor. If it wasn't such a popular place with good choices, he wouldn't even bother coming here.

Sitting at the bar, Tiamareshka  glanced over each face, searching for an acceptable companion for the night. As his eyes scoured over each face, they would sometimes meet with another and often, they would stare and blush. Unable to tear their eyes away, Tiamareshka  could send them the most devilish look and they'd quickly hide or look away in embarrassment. He'd know when they looked back at him when they thought he'd turned his gaze. People were so easily tempted even when he wasn't trying. Look in their direction in a certain way and it's hook, line and sinker.

It was so much fun fooling around with them, especially the dumb ones but only a few were worthwhile.

And tonight, the pretty lady in with the shiny jacket should make a nice meal.

Turns out she was quite well off, her apartment was well decorated and nothing displayed seemed to be on the fake or cheap side. A few glances around and it was apparent that she was actually a finance worker of a company, and not a very honest one at that, but at that moment, Tiamareshka  really couldn't care less.

She was healthy, energetic and indeed very full of life...as well as herself. Stupid woman, vain and overestimating, her body screamed for attention, for men to worship her because she deserved it. She'd put down and humiliated a lot of people for her own gain. Tiamareshka  had avoid looking any further or he'd be turned off by such a rotten soul. For now, he was hungry. 

One wild night proved fun though it left the woman almost completely drained but he always made sure not to let that happen, Tiamareshka  was careful about that. The consequences weren't pretty.

What he wasn't prepared for was the woman talking and making noises in her sleep, which irritated Tiamareshka  from sleeping that he had to leave the apartment complex. He slipped out through the window, leathery wings unfurling and soared noiselessly up towards the sky. Tendrils of black wispy smoke slithered out from beneath his skin and around his body, solidifying and materializing as clothing, conveniently. He smirked and he continued to soar over the city before settling on one of the buildings that had a nice domed tower to it, perfect for a resting place. It was annoying having to leave so soon. At least it was a beautiful moon night.

His breath ghosted in the chill air which blew softly across his skin as Tiamareshka  laid down on the metal. He stared up at the and watched the city moving and breathing angrily down below, Gotham was always such a miserable place. The embodiment of filth, probably no better than the city of Sodom though that may be exaggerating. It had a protector after all. He wasn't sure if it was the city that made Batman that grim icon or the other way around. Perhaps it was that vicious cycle. Tiamareshka  could remember the way Bruce moved, silent and imposing, promptly followed by a young boy in yellow, green and red, laughing at the world. With no pants.

Tiamareshka  smiled wryly. Thinking of Batman and Robin brought back so many memories, the good and bad, they both made his heart ache, what's left of it any way.

He turned over and tucked his wing against himself. He'll sleep them away, just for a little while before he moves on.

There's blood on his hands, on his face, in his mouth. Red all around him, pooling at his feet. But he isn't looking, it's his hands he can't tear his eyes away from. Tiamareshka 's hand, didn't look like a human's anymore. The fingers were long and protruding from them were long black claws and they were all red, saturated in warm liquid. It comforted him and horrified him at the same time, like coming out of a high. Not his blood, he looked up. Across from him were corpses, the dead, cooling bodies of his friends, the league and Dick?! Bruce!! Damian...oh god oh god, who did this? He looked around  and saw no one, no one else but him and...Jason.

But the man wasn't wearing a mad deranged smile like he remembered once, it was a look of horror and pure fear. His hands were clean.

Why was Jason looking at him like that?

Suddenly, the Red Hood turned away and walked, Tiamareshka  tried to get up and follow but he was stuck, unable to move. He called out to Jason.

“You monster.” 

Tiamareshka  woke up to the cool air rapidly warming as the sun rose up over the cityline. Damn, he didn't think he'd sleep the whole night away, it was dawn and he wasn't prepared to take on the full glare of the sun. He was lucky he didn't run into the bat, or the bird for that matter. That would be beyond awkward. He slinked away under the cover of the sun's shadow. He settled down again in his favourite spot, fatigue taking over again. He cursed internally at that damn dream, it always deprived him of rest no matter how long he tried to sleep. He suspected the longer he was in it, the worse it would make him feel and right now, he felt like he hadn't slept in three days. It reminded him so much of his sleepless vigilante days it was almost funny, almost.

“Tiamat.”

A voice whispered to him where he hid, sheltered from the sights of passers-by, high behind the golems of Gotham. Tiamareshka  stirred from his curled sleep, listening to the multitudes of voices hissing and sighing inaudibly in the background. The space before him twisted and warped with dark energy. Then a figure stepped out from the swirling mass and onto the stone. Greeting Tiamareshka  with a wide, crooked smile.

“Petrakar.” The boy responded with a half giggle, his coal black, tight suit rippled with his body. 

“Still fooling around? I know you were overly serious before but this takes the cake.”

Tiamareshka  snorted with contempt, he almost wished he'd ignored the sly bastard but he wasn't bothered with moving. Instead he let his tail answer for him, swatting at Petrakar with an impatient flick. Of course, it did nothing since he was only a mirage and it passed through his wispy form like it was just smoke, distorting Petrakar's image only briefly before it settled back in place.

“Someone's moody today.”

“Did you call just to annoy me?”

Petrakar sat down beside a curled up Tiamareshka  and reached over, brushing stray strands of hair from his face. As much of an illusion as it was, the boy still felt very real and right there, though his touch felt more like breaths than anything physical.

“You've been seeking out human comfort frequently as of late, have the nightmares returned?”

“...They have always been there, sometimes they're not as bad but then they get louder, clearer, like I'm living it all over again. It happened again last night, when I left early.”

Petrakar said nothing for a long time, the sound of their breaths drowned out in the city's hum. Tiamareshka  considered sleeping right here while he could feel Petrakar's presence. He could ask him to stay for a while while he rested but seeing as he wasn't truly here in the flesh, no doubt he was occupied. It pained Tiamareshka  to acknowledge how much he needed contact, companionship to chase those damn nightmares away. He felt weak and helpless against himself, he could feel that part of him mocking at him for such dependency, letting it slowly eat him away.

It was all his fault of course, your fault your failure murderer murderer demon monster, Jason can't even look at you now, not even Alfred.

Tiamareshka  gasped in shock, clutching at his breast in pain. Petrakar still at his side reacted accordingly prying Tiamareshka 's fingers from his chest and holding them.

“Stop, don't let it get to you again. Come on, Tiamareshka , stay with me.”

Can't here, can't see, only the thing inside trying to claw it's way back out, take over again. Your fault their fault unwanted, they abandoned you, it's only natural to make them pay, make you pay, watch the world burn, let's do it.

Look what they did to you.

“Look at me!”

Tiamareshka  was gasping for air, suddenly seeing Petrakar again. He wasn't aware of the tears in his eyes. All that act, all those disgusting nights with endless streams of face, voices, praises but he wasn't beautiful. He was damned. Trying to claw his way out of hell.

Petrakar looked at him with eyes that mirrored his, his suffering, Tiamareshka 's own pain, they all had suffered, had to so they could be together this way, but he, she told him he wasn't ready yet. When?

Petrakar leaned down and placed a tender kiss on his lips, breathing for a minute, “Something is coming your way, Tiamareshka , and it's nearly your time.”

Tiamareshka  sat up legs bent behind him as he searched for meaning behind those words, Petrakar's rust colored eyes gave nothing away, “I don't understand.”

“Thing's are going to change.” 

Tiamareshka  dipped his gaze, completely losing the mask and being that confused, over-analyzing boy he once was, serious and curious all at once. Robin, not Robin. Petrakar smiled a little sad smile and began to fade from sight, his ghost hands still caressing Tiamareshka 's face, “I hope for the better,” Tiamareshka  said.

“We all do.” 

[tisfan]

Time after Time

Nopennamesleft: Spending another day in the waiting room of the hospital. If you have a time for a prompt, I’d love to see something with one of the boys waiting by the bedside of the other.

A/N -- This prompt was left for me in a comment on A03 and I’m filling it because I love this person dearly, they’re a regular commenter on my fics. That said PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS to me. I spent like 20 minutes looking for this prompt. Send all prompt requests to my Tumblr askbox or to pillowfort

co-written with @27dragons Winteriron - sick fic, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending.

When Bucky is hit by a magical time bomb, he loses most of his memories... of the War, of his time as the Winter Soldier... but most importantly, of his husband.

The worst thing in the world was to be standing in the faded green corridor outside a hospital room, hands clenched together, the fingers wrenching at each other, as two experts calmly and quietly told Tony, “We don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

The bad guy was dead, killed in his own explosion, but Bucky had taken the backlash of the energy output, retreating last, as was his habit. Normally, Tony would have said something as minor as an explosion couldn’t hurt his husband, but Bucky had been unconscious, and had remained so for a few days.

And when he’d woken up, finally, he hadn’t recognized anyone. Bucky had panicked, screamed, fought. Medical staff had been forced to sedate him. Watching him crumple onto the floor, dressed in a hospital down, face twisted with fear… maybe that had been worse.

Tony gritted his teeth. “What do you mean-- No, that’s not fair. You don’t know. Okay. But you’re working on it, right? You’re going to figure this out.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” the lead doctor said. “We’ve called in some experts in neurological damage. If you -- or any of the other Avengers, really -- could look into what sort of explosive device? We’re detecting some anomalies in Mr. Barnes’ blood that make no sense. If we knew more about what caused it, we can treat the symptoms, at least.”

“Send the workup on the anomalies to me,” Tony said. “I have some people I can put on it. And I’ll disassemble the remains of the device myself. I was just... waiting for him to wake up.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Bucky had woken up. It just hadn’t been as much of a relief as Tony had hoped.

(more under the cut)

He waited until the doctors had gone on their way, then closed his eyes and took a few deep, fortifying breaths before going back into Bucky’s room. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he said softly. Bucky was still unconscious, and maybe it was better that way, until they figured out why he’d forgotten them all. He brushed back Bucky’s hair and leaned over to kiss Bucky’s forehead. “We’re going to fix this. I promise.”

Tony had always noticed, when he’d visited Steve from time to time, or Wilson, or even Clint, how much smaller and less heroic everyone looked in a hospital bed. There were tubes in Bucky’s elbow and machines hooked up that detected his heartrate and oxy count. His metal arm was swathed in bandages to hide it from him, since the first time he’d woken up, he’d tried -- and horrifically, nearly succeeded -- to remove it. The second time he woke up, staff had convinced him that the first wake up was accompanied by vivid hallucinations and that he’d been badly burned, which is why he didn’t feel any pain in that arm.

Tony wasn’t sure the lies were going to do any good in the end, but they were all somewhat at a loss.

What did you do with a super-powered human who didn’t know they were super powered?

He was a danger to others, like this. He was a danger to himself.

Didn’t mean looking at him, with the adamantite cuff holding him to a reinforced bed, didn’t hurt any less.

“I love you.” Tony swallowed again. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, ever, to walk away from Bucky’s bedside. But he needed to fill the others in on the utter lack of answers. He needed to get the doctors’ records and analyses to people who could, perhaps, make sense of them. And he needed to strip the remains of that damn bomb down to its component atoms, if necessary, to figure out how to bring his Bucky back.

Steve was the first person on his feet, as soon as Tony entered the waiting room. It couldn’t have been any easier on him; having Bucky forget Steve, his best friend, more than once, even. It was… mind-numbingly awful, or it would have been, if Tony had been able to get his mind to go numb. He wasn’t sure that was possible.

“Is he okay?”

Nat was there, too, in the waiting room. The important people in Bucky’s life that he’s forgotten club. They should get jackets.

“He’s... resting. Physically, he’s as healthy as he’s ever been. The doctors found some anomalies in his system. They’re going to send me the details, and I’ll feed that to Bruce and Helen. Otherwise... they have no idea what happened.”

“He didn’t get hit on the head,” Clint supplied. “Just finished my scan of the street-feeds. He just… well, look.” Clint popped up the 3D reconstruction, showing the ripple of the bomb’s massive energy release, which hit Bucky full force, and then reached about another meter or so beyond him before dissipating.

Bucky in the film didn’t do more than stumble, shoved by the blast wave.

What did happen was that he blinked, looked around wildly as if he had no idea where he was. Reached up to scrub at his face and saw--

He had stared down at his metal hand as if he’d never seen it before. Turned it slowly, and then screamed. Started trying to get inside his tactical armor, but the fastenings were unfamiliar, he didn’t know where the autozips were. Scrambled at his uniform, tearing the fabric and nano-mesh.

Screamed again, and then went to his knees, still staring at the outstretched hands.

He collapsed, sobbing with terror, and then, mercifully, blacked out.

“No head trauma,” Tony observed. He was shaking all over, just from watching the footage and being unable to comfort his husband. “So it’s not standard amnesia.”

Natasha reached out and caught his hand, squeezing it tightly, trying to comfort him. He gave her full credit for the attempt, but he wasn’t going to feel right again until Bucky came back to himself.

God, what if he never... Tony closed his eyes and let himself hang onto Natasha like a lifeline. “He can’t be gone. He can’t.”

“Buck’s tough,” Steve said, as if anything about any of this was reasonable, rational, or had anything to do with physical strength. “If he can come back from Hydra, he can come back from… whatever this is. I just know it.”

Nat took pity on him, because she knew him so well. “Go home,” she said. She didn’t tell him to rest, or eat something, or even to take care of himself, because she knew that he wouldn’t. “Dig into this, and we’ll let you know if there are any changes.”

“The instant anything changes,” Tony insisted, because he had to, not because he thought they wouldn’t. “I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. I have to... to be here.”

“We know,” Nat said, and she brushed her mouth over his cheek in a light kiss. “But you can’t be here, not right now.”

“He’s awake,” Steve reported, panting for breath. Steve seldom ran short of breath, so Tony was going to assume he was experiencing stress, rather than fatigue. “But he doesn’t-- he thinks it’s 1940. That he’s twenty-three years old, that he’s never even been drafted. He knows who I am, but he doesn’t remember how I got this way. Doesn’t trust me.”

Tony stared at Steve dumbly for a long moment, trying to process that. 1940. “So he... he knows who he is. Sort of. That’s... that’s a step.” It was better than the worst-case scenarios that Tony’s brain couldn’t seem to stop spinning every time he tried to rest. Tony shoved his hand through his hair. Christ, in 1940, Bucky hadn’t even been a soldier yet. He was just a kid, really. “It gives us somewhere to start, anyway. I guess. Anyone tried to explain to him what happened? In a general sort of way, obviously, since I’m still trying to separate the tech-bits from the magic-bits on this damn bomb?”

“Well, Buck-- he was always into that future stuff, when we were kids,” Steve said. “He, uh… kinda thinks we’re either aliens who’ve kidnapped him, or some sort of Things to Come, Chandu the Magician science fiction crap going on. He was… they didn’t have to sedate him again, but he only stopped resisting because they said they were going to.”

“Science fiction crap is definitely on the right path,” Tony said, a sad smile tugging at his lip. Bucky was an adorable nerd and Tony loved him for it. It was good to know -- well, have it confirmed -- that it was a longtime trait. “You keep... filling him in. Maybe find him some of those biographies about him? The ones that were written before... you know, the Winter Soldier. He’s probably still too freaked out to cope with all that.”

Steve nodded. “You should… you should go visit. Nat thinks it’ll be good for him to see people who care about him, even if he doesn’t remember. Since we can’t, you know, bring his family in.” The last of Bucky’s siblings had passed on from extreme old age a few years back, and while he had grand nieces and nephews, those relationships were still tentative, all the way around. Hard to cope with, for them, and for Bucky as well.

Tony drew a shaky breath. “Yeah, okay. I’ll... I’ve got some magic-gunk samples I want to drop with Strange, and then I’ll head to the hospital.” That was going to hurt. A lot. But if it would help, Tony would do goddamn near anything.

“Nat’s with him, now,” Steve said. “Thought I’d grab some food, and a little sleep, before I head back.” He squeezed Tony’s shoulder, bracingly. “He’s alive. There’s still hope, Tony.”

“Trust you to be all chin-up Captain Optimism about it,” Tony gibed, though his heart really wasn’t in the banter. He desperately, desperately wanted Steve to be right. “Go fuel the righteousness and get some rest, Steve.”

“I remember when I thought the world’s problems could be solved by socking Hitler in the jaw,” Steve said. “I miss those days, sometimes.”

It would have been nice, Tony supposed, if the guy who’d done this had lived through it, and therefore, could be blamed and held accountable. But no, he’d vaporized himself, along with half the city block and the last half century or so of Bucky’s memories. Pity. Tony would have liked to punch that guy.

Nat was nowhere to be found when Tony arrived at the hospital. In further fact, Bucky was alone, and awake, in his hospital room when Tony walked in.

Bucky glanced up and a strange spasm of emotion crossed his handsome features before they smoothed out again. “So, what’s your story?” he scoffed. “My long-forgotten kiddie school teacher?”

Yeah, Tony had been right. This was going to hurt. But he and Bucky had promised not to lie to each other, no matter what, and even if this Bucky didn’t know that, it went against the grain to do anything else. “Nothing as easy as that,” Tony said, lowering himself into the horrible chair that was in the room for visitors. “I’m actually your husband, here in the future.”

“That’s jus’ about the least believable thing anyone’s told me yet,” Bucky snorted, his voice straining for calmly rational, although there was a nervous stutter near the end, and his eyes darted wildly around the room to see if anyone else was listening. If anyone… knew. The face of a kid who’d just been outed in front of his church group.

“I know it must sound crazy,” Tony said. “But it’s really true. I know, right now I probably don’t look like any kind of a prize, but we’re actually... We’re role models, we’re hope for a lot of people who have been afraid to be themselves.”

Bucky glowered, not the crazy-eyed assassin that Tony sometimes saw come out when they were Avenging, but a young man who was desperately frightened and trying not to be. “I ain’t-- who tol’ you I was some sort of nancy-boy queer?”

God, it was his Bucky’s face, but that expression, that voice was so young. Something in his chest squeezed until Tony began to wonder if he were going to have a heart attack. “You did,” he said gently. “You told me you’d figured it out when you were, what, fourteen? Watching Joey Kinley lighting candles at church.”

Bucky’s eyes got huge, rounded, and his mouth dropped open. “I never… I never tol’ anyone,” he said, voice a tiny little thing wrapped around a huge confession. “Thought God would strike me dead, right there on the spot. Was gonna go to hell and no one was going to mourn me. I told… I told you that?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it was easy, but you did. We were still dating then, had been seeing each other for about six months.”

A mix of terror, anxiety, and somehow, like he was putting down a huge burden that he’d carried for as long as he could remember, relief, crossed Bucky’s face. “Uh… what’s your name?”

“Tony.” He wondered briefly if Bucky would connect the dots, then mentally shrugged and added, “Stark. Tony Stark.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, not like he was agreeing, but just filling up the space. “Damn, Joey, I… he had just the prettiest brown eyes I ever saw, like… like velvet. My ma had a velvet collar on one of her coats, it was so soft. Th’ softest thing I ever touched. Did I tell you that? It don’t… what you say, it don’t feel real, I feel… lost.”

He shifted a little to look straight at Tony. “You have brown eyes, jus’ like he did. Can you look right at me an’ swear, swear this is real, this is really happening?”

Bucky’s eyes were wide and scared and still so goddamned young, and Tony wanted to just gather Bucky up in his arms and promise that everything was going to be okay, but he didn’t think Bucky would welcome such close contact, not yet. That didn’t stop Tony from needing it, though. “I swear,” he said. “I swear on, on my parents’ graves, that I’m telling you the truth, that this is real. That we’re married and it’s been the best damn two years of my entire life, and I love you with everything in me, and I’m not going to stop until we find a way to help you.”

Tony wasn’t even sure if Bucky realized that he was crying; it wasn’t really full on weeping, just a shimmer in those pale, blue eyes. He blinked rapidly and the tears vanished into sparkles along his eyelashes. “I--”

Which of course was when Nat strolled in, a weapon’s satchel over her shoulder. “S dobrym utrom,” she greeted him in cheery Russian, then paused. “Tony--”

Tony’s Russian was never going to be as good or unaccented as Nat or Bucky’s, but he did understand it.

He wasn’t sure who was more shocked, Bucky, or himself, when Bucky returned Nat’s good morning without hesitating. “Do you know when I can leave?”

“Ha!” Nat said, grinning and returning to English. “I thought that might work. Sorry to interrupt, Tony.”

Bucky looked shocked, nearly to the point of comedy. Tony jumped out of the chair and flung his arms around Natasha, because he needed to hug someone. “He’s still in there,” Tony gasped. “It’s not gone, just... hidden.”

“He is,” Nat agreed. “You are. He is.”

“What… what was that, what did I say, is this… witchcraft?” Bucky stammered.

“As far as we can tell,” Nat said, “yes. Ever use a gun before, Barnes?”

“No,” Bucky said, forehead wrinkling. “Was the welterweight boxing champion two years running. Never needed more than my fists, to--”

Nat rummaged in the bag and pulled out Bucky’s favorite short range pistol. “Field strip that for me, soldier.” She tossed it on the bed, where it bounced between Bucky’s knees.

Bucky picked it up doubtfully, handling it almost gingerly. It looked foreign on Bucky, who was so casually comfortable handling firearms that he nearly looked naked without one. “Look at me,” Tony suggested. “Don’t think about the gun, you’ll just get in your own way. Look at me and tell me something about... Oh, about Steve.”

Bucky turned his chin at the sound of Tony’s voice, hands moving automatically, the gun turning from a strange, alien object into his trusted weapon, into an extension of himself. “Uh, well, one time, we were jus’ near to getting done with schoolin’ and he had to miss a bunch of it, he caught scarlet fever, and he couldn’t draw or write or nothing. His hands were shaking. But we had this stupid essay to write, and he didn’t want to fail. So he told me what to write, and I… I used my right hand to do it, so that it would look all shaky, like Steve’d done it his own self.”

Tony kept looking at Bucky, holding that gaze, but by the time Bucky was half a sentence in, his hands started moving, methodically stripping the gun and laying out the parts on the blanket. When his eyes started to drift, Tony drew him back. “Well don’t leave me in suspense,” he cajoled. “Did he get a passing grade?”

“He did,” Bucky said. “In English an’ art, but he failed outta history.” Bucky put the last piece of the weapon down and then stared at the neat layout. “Am I possessed? You gonna call a preacher t’ get the devil out of me? Husband an’ knowin’ and… what is fucking going on here?” His voice spiralled up in a panic, and then--

“You have retrograde episodic memory loss,” Nat said, cutting through the panic. “You remember everything that happened to you before-- whatever happened to send you back to 1940. But all your procedural memory is intact. You know how to do things. Your skills aren’t lost to you.” She shoved a pad of paper onto the bed along with a pen. “Sign your name.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate, plucking the pen out of her hand with his left hand. He scrawled and then stared at his signature. J. Barnes-Stark.

Tony swallowed against tears of relief. He was still in there. They were going to find a way to bring him back. “Told you,” he said, making it as light as possible. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Procedural memory, huh?” Bucky wondered. “I just… know how t’ do these things, because I learned it? Before… after? I will have learned this?” He chewed his lip for a moment, then crooked a finger at Tony. “Only one way t’ be sure, I guess.”

Tony stepped closer, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Bucky appeared to brace himself, like he was about to put his hand in a fire, then--

Tony was being kissed.

He’d kissed Bucky hundreds, probably even thousands of times, sweet and soft, or rough and dirty and everything in between. Like the first time they’d kissed, or the last time they’d kissed, it was both perfect and extraordinary and utterly familiar. His lips knew the shape of Bucky’s mouth, his tongue knew that taste, his hands went around Bucky’s shoulders, fingers curling in the same, familiar pattern. Bucky’s hands were in Tony’s hair and he was doing that thing, where he brushed his thumbs along the underside of Tony’s ears. That thing that made Tony weak in the knees, every single time.

Tony groaned and sagged against the bed, all but climbing right onto Bucky’s lap. He fell into the kiss with a desperate, frantic need, clutching at Bucky’s shoulders and then sliding down Bucky’s arms, tracing at the seams of the metal arm and holding on as tight as he could. “Oh god,” he rasped when Bucky finally drew back a little, and slumped forward, resting his forehead against Bucky’s.

“You sure as hell kiss me like you know what you’re doin’,” Bucky said, touching his lips lightly with his fingers. “That…. That was so weird, like… kissin’ you for the first time, but… not.” He suddenly went tomato red, eyes darting over to Nat, who was casually looking out the window, as if she wasn’t the least bit affected by their display.

“I’d tell you to get a room, but… you have a nice one here, and I’ll just… see myself out,” Nat said.

“Yeah, go on,” Tony said, grinning. “Go give Steve the good news.”

Nat disappeared in one of her characteristic fades, the door barely making a sound as she closed and probably secured it behind her.

“Tony--” Bucky said… “we’re. Actually married? Like, that’s allowed?” When Tony nodded, he held up one finger, then added. “Do you… do you love me? Could you say… like you always say it?”

Tony leaned in close, nuzzling very lightly at Bucky’s temple, breathing in the familiar scent. “Love you, snowflake.”

“Love you, too, dollface,” Bucky told him, and his eyes were wide and shining again. He stroked Tony’s cheek with his fingers. “Guess… guess I must, ‘cause… I feel that. Right in here--” he touched his chest. “You’ll… you’re gonna wait for me, right? While it all comes back?”

“As long as it takes, I’m here for you, sweetheart,” Tony promised.

[teen-titans-imagines]

East of Eden pt 2

Jason Todd & Daughter! Teenager! Reader

---

A/n: As always, big huge thanks to @vermelian @loudmouthwally and @stormyfandoms for helping me throughout the storyline! Love y’all!!

—

Part One / Part Two [Here] / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven [Final]

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Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Drama, Action, Fluff Rated: Mature Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood and Gore, Swearing, Graphic Depictions of Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Graphic Injuries, Nightmares, PTSD, Just read with caution please

—

Author: Teen-Titans-Imagines

—

The batmobile was a fast vehicle. With turbo-boosters installed in the back that could be activated with the push of a button, asphalt-reflecting tires that seemed to float on air, and a sleek body to make the air pass over, not through the car, the batmobile was a force to be reckoned with. To Jason, though, it couldn’t move fast enough. Even with the turbo on, and his foot pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the batmobile seemed to be slower than time itself. 

Jason had (Y/n)’s hand in his own, his hand holding her delicate hand gently, despite the fear and anxiety running through his veins. This was all his fault. If only he could have been faster in helping Tim find (Y/n). Jason was chanting to his daughter, his undistorted voice soothing, despite the anger and homicidal thoughts running through his brain. 

“It’s going to be alright, babygirl. Just stay with me. We’re almost there, OK? Dad’s going to get you to the hospital and he’s going to make sure you’re OK, alright?”

Jason’s masked eyes strayed to his helmet that rested on the dashboard, seeming to mock him as he zig-zagged throughout the vehicles on the road, practically running every red light in Gotham city. (Y/n)’s hand was cold, practically freezing, and his eyes looked to her for a second. In the darkness of the vehicle, he couldn’t tell if she were breathing or not, and Jason couldn’t help but let his tears finally fall. 

What had he done to deserve this? First he had lost (Y/n)’s mother in a horrible way, and now he couldn’t tell if he had lost his daughter. What had he done to fate? Was it because he had come back to life? That he had cheated death one too many times, and this was the price? She was the price?

“(Y/n), please don’t leave me. Please....I need you here with me...I need you-”

He choked up and gripped the steering wheel tightly, unable to finish. Practically crashing into the hospital’s ER area, he jumped out and got (Y/n) out carefully, running inside as fast as he could without jostling her too much.

“Help! Somebody help my daughter! Please!” 

The nurses were startled to see the Red Hood in the hospital, but were shocked to see a corpse-no, a barely living girl in his arms. A nurse jumped into action, grabbing a stretcher. 

“Set her on here. We’re going to need a blood transfusion, and fast! Get the doctor on the phone!” 

Their voices faded as Jason stood there, broken and sobbing as they wheeled his only daughter off.

-TIMESKIP-READER POV-

Cold. Your body was cold, and you couldn’t feel a thing. Were you dead? Was this the end of your life? A noise caught your attention; a subtle beeping in the background that got louder the more you focused on it. As you became more aware, you could register a warmth in your hand. Opening your eyes the best you could, you saw your father. 

He was sleeping in the chairs the hospital provided for visitors, his hand holding yours. Your father was slouched over, one arm crossed over his stomach and head tilted forward, his snores filling the room. Tear tracks were stained onto his face, his sleeping eyes ringed with red and slightly puffy.

Your fingers twitched in his hold, your eyes closing as you took a deep breath, your ribs and surrounding muscles protesting. There was a sharp sting in your side, causing you to hiss, and your dad jolted, his eyes shooting open and his crossed arm swinging out, revealing a gun. When he saw no one was there, and you were awake, he quickly holstered the gun and stood up, hovering over you slightly. 

“Hey, baby.” 

“Hey.” 

He bit his lip, new tears filling his eyes, and he sobbed out, a gloved hand covering one of his eyes. 

“God, I’m so sorry, babygirl. If I had been faster in trying to find you-”

Jason paused, unable to go on, and you gently rubbed your thumb back and forth against his hand, shaking your head slightly. 

“It’s...ok. I’m right...here.” 

“The doctors were sure that you weren’t going to make it...God, I’m so sorry, baby. So, so sorry.” 

You allowed him to say his apologies. Knowing your father, he was adamant that it was his fault. It would be best to let him wallow now and then comfort him later when he had a bit more time to himself and to think things through. After all, you were wounded. You could barely talk without feeling like your lungs were going to cave in. It would be best, on your part, to wait to console your father. 

Jason looked at you, smiling softly at you. He informed you, trying to be optimistic and cheerful.

“Uncle Dick and the others are here. The nurses allowed them to stay in some unoccupied rooms. Do you want to see them?”

You contemplated it before smiling softly. 

“No...I want to be...with you.”

Jason got an awestruck look on his face before blinking his shock away, nodding. He kissed your forehead gently before sitting back down. Jason murmured to you, holding your hand to his lips. 

“Bruce was able to catch Black Mask, and the authorities have him in custody. Tim actually recorded...recorded what Black Mask had broadcasted, and the tapes are being processed right now. Black Mask isn’t going to hurt you ever again. Not you, or anyone else for that matter.” 

“I’m...happy.” 

You wrinkled your nose a bit, the oxygen tubes that were in your nose tickling you slightly. Closing your eyes, you sighed. 

“I was...I was...scared...”

Jason squeezed your hand. 

“...At one...point...I even...I even gave...in. I didn’t....I didn’t think you...were coming.” 

You turned your head to him slowly, despite the pain, and smiled softly, Jason’s blue eyes filled with hot, fat tears. 

“...but you...did. You saved...me...and I...love you. My hero.”

You chuckled a bit, but Jason was crying hard at your heartfelt words, holding your hand to his forehead as he sobbed. Jason whispered to you, holding your hand in a tight yet gentle grip. 

“I love you so much, so, so much. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve...more than...this.”

Jason bit his lip, taking deep breath as his head fell back and he sniffled, wiping his eyes. 

“You’re a little brat for making me cry.”

He laughed as you lightly laughed, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. 

“I’m going to tell the others that you’re awake and OK, alright?”

You nodded, despite the sudden nervousness that flooded through your veins, and he stood, kissing your forehead before walking out. After a moment, something started to happen. The hospital room around you started to spin and shake, the room darkening malevolently. The fluorescent lights flickered and you whimpered, eyes widening in fear as your heart started to race.

‘You can’t escape me, (Y/n).’

You widened your eyes, jaw dropping slightly.

“No..”

His laughter filled the air, cackling evilly as it surrounded you, one minute being in your ear and then the next sounding far away.

‘You can run, but you can never hide from me.’

“No! No, no, no!” 

You shook your head violently, his silhouette at the foot of the bed making you scream and struggle to get away as the shadow got closer. Your body was screaming in pain, but you were too worried about getting away from the clawed hands of the villainous being, screaming for your father.

The heart monitor was going crazy, and your breathing was very shallow and rapid. The IV that was in your hand came out, fluid spilling everywhere upon the floor. The door burst open, nurses running in to detain you. Two slipped on the fluid, but the other two that had followed were quick to run to you and inject you with a sedative. 

Before you passed you, you caught a glimpse of your father and family standing in the doorway, looking terrified and worried.

-WITH THE BATFAM-THIRD PERSON POV-

The boys were astonished as they watched the girl slowly go to sleep, her breathing leveling out and her heart slowing to a steady pace. Jason whispered out as Dick put a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“I...I was only gone for a minute...”

Bruce replied as the doctors walked out after making sure the young Todd’s vitals were stabilizing.

“Jason, she’s traumatized. She’s going to have severe repercussions from Black Masks treatment for a while. (Y/n) just needs support and time.”

Jason’s shoulders hunched as he rubbed his forehead. Tim muttered to himself. 

“I’m going to find the cafeteria and get some coffee. Anybody want anything?”

While everyone gave Tim their orders, Jason just stared at (Y/n) from the doorway. (Y/n) had looked so scared. What had she seen? Did (Y/n) see Black Mask? Jason clenched his jaw, glancing at Bruce before looking at the ground. Jason was going to have to make a few calls, because he was certain about one thing. 

Black Mask was not going to live to see another day. Not after he dared to touch his little girl. However, Jason knew that it was going to take time and a lot of planning for what he had in store for Black Mask. Jason smirked a bit hiding it behind the flaps of his leather jacket. Yes, he was going to show Black Mask whose line had truly been crossed that night.

-TIMESKIP TO TWO MONTHS LATER-TODD RESIDENCE-

“No! No, stop, please!”

Jason jolted from underneath his duvet, awakened from his slumber by his daughters’ cries and screams of terror. Sighing, he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, taking a moment before getting up. This had become the nightly routine ever since you were released from the hospital. You would go to sleep with no issue, but then you would have terrible nightmares. 

The nightmares were bad. They were so bad that sometimes Jason couldn’t wake you from them. It was as if you were tied to them, unable to escape the ensnaring grasp of the nightmares. It was those moments that made Jason feel the weakest. How could he save the people of Gotham if he couldn’t even save you from a nightmare?

It wasn’t just from nightmares that you suffered from. After the incident, you developed PTSD, and a very severe case of it. The littlest of things could set you off into a panic attack, like loud sounds, sudden movements, and even touching your shoulder or any part of your body when you weren’t looking. 

Jason remembered when Roy accidentally dropped a glass plate. You had been standing at the counter, making a sandwich when the shattering of the glass set off one of your episodes. You had immediately ducked down into a fetal position, screaming at an invisible assailant to ‘not hurt you’. Roy felt so bad that he didn’t come by the apartment for a week.

Nowadays, you didn’t go anywhere without Jason being with you. You didn’t trust the people of Gotham enough to be away from your father for more than a few minutes when out in public. Jason didn’t mind it, but he knew it was putting a strain on your friendships at school.

Jason was rendered from his throughts as another scream ripped through the apartment, making chills run down his spine. Jason stood and walked from his bedroom to your room, opening yoru door. You were thrashing in the bed, the sheets and blankets kicked off, as they usually were. You were crying, chest heaving with each breath you took, and sweat running down your limbs. 

Jason sighed and walked over to you, gently laying his hand on your shoulder. His voice called to you, assertive in its tone. 

“(Y/n), it’s OK. It’s just a nightmare. Follow my voice. You’re going to be OK.” 

You paused, calling out as your hands slammed onto his forearms, a throbbing ache automatically erupting in his arms. 

“Dad?! Dad, where are you? Please! Save me!” 

You started to cry and thrash again, making Jason pin you to the bed as he called to you, his heart breaking a little bit more.

“I’m here, babygirl, just follow my voice. I’m going to save you. Just follow my voice.” 

After a moment, you paused and your eyes fluttered open, your eyes looking out of focus. When they settled on Jason, Jason relaxed his hold on you and he sat down on the side of the bed, saying after a pause. 

“We can’t keep doing this, babygirl.” 

You sniffled before sitting up, immediately hugging your father. Jason was quick to wrap you up in his arms, gently swaying the two of you back and forth, his lips kissing your temple. 

“It’s OK, baby. No one’s going to hurt you while I’m here. I’ve got you. It’s alright. Hush.”

You were like a koala bear, refusing to unwrap yourself from around his torso as you sobbed into his shoulder. Your fingers gripped the sides of his shirt, clenching the material as you let it out, slowly tiring yourself out. Jason rocked you back and forth, caressing the back of your head and repeating that it was OK. 

Slowly, you went limp within his arms, your breathing evening out, but your grip still as tight as a clamp around his body. Jason knew you had no intention of letting him go even in your sleep, so he carefully maneuvered himself to where he was laying on his side, his arms wrapped around you. 

As you slept, peacefully, might he add, Jason was taken back to when you were a baby. Jason used hold you just like this, except you would be on his stomach and him on his back, when you were a baby and had nightmares. It always made you feel safe, being wrapped up in his arms and being able to see his face right before you fell right back to sleep. 

When your mother was still alive, she always teased Jason about it, telling him that you were going to be so spoiled while growing up. Jason didn’t really fight her on that. He loved you dearly and would do anything for you. If spoiling you was one of those things, then he would do it.

Jason sighed and closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair, the white streak in his hair falling in his eyes. 

“What am I going to do with you, sweetheart?”

-TIMESKIP TO MORNING-

Jason awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs, his eyes fluttering as he slowly awoke. (Y/n) was not beside him, but the covers were wrapped around him carefully, keeping him nice and warm. Sitting up, he walked out to the kitchen, seeing (Y/n) standing in front of the stove. A spatula in her hand, and a pan of eggs and a pan of bacon sizzling, Jason took a deep breath before greeting quietly to snot startle her into a panic attack. 

“Good morning, (Y/n). That smells great.”

She turned around and smiled at Jason, holding out a plate for him. He took the plate and she murmured. 

“I woke up earlier than you, and felt inclined to do something.”

He sat at the table, digging in to his breakfast, and hummed. 

“It’s delicious. Thank you. How are you feeling?”

She paused and shrugged. 

“My leg and wrist are kind of bothering me, but other than that, I feel fine.”

Jason gave the girl a look, despite her not looking.

“You know what I meant, (Y/n).”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dad!”

The spatula slammed onto the counter and Jason paused, shocked. (Y/n) was shaking slightly, biting her lip, yet had a soft look on her face. She whispered. 

“I don’t...I’m not ready...to talk about it...okay? Just...let’s just eat breakfast and relax for today, okay?”

Jason sighed, staring at (Y/n), observing her. Whatever her nightmare had been about last night, it had clearly spooked her. What was it that she dreamed about? Was it of Black Mask? Jason knew what it was like, and he wished that (Y/n) would talk to him. While he knew that (Y/n) needed time, he wanted her to know that she could open up to him. Jason wasn’t the best talker, but with (Y/n), Jason could spare his words.

(Y/n) sat down with her plate, digging in after getting situated in her spot. Jason thought for a moment, wondering about how he could help his daughter get better. Finishing his food, he set his plate in the dishwasher before kissing (Y/n) on the head. 

“I’m going to go to Bruce’s and see if they have anything new on Black  Mask’s trial, alright?”

(Y/n) nodded, her eyes moving up to watch Jason. She advised as Jason opened the door. 

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” 

He turned and looked at (Y/n), giving her a look.

“Thanks, but my hand’s on the door.”

When he moved to leave, however, his head hit the doorways frame, and (Y/n) snickered. 

“Fuck!”

“Ha, dumbass.”

“Shut your mouth, brat.”

“Love you too.”

-READERS POV-

After Jason left, you sighed and let your head fall onto the table, pushing your breakfast away. You could tell that your anxiety, panic attacks, your nightmares, and PTSD, were hurting your father, but you had no idea how to help your dad feel better while trying to make yourself feel better. Groaning, you looked back up before sighing and rubbing the back of your neck. 

What were you going to do while your dad was out? You certainly weren’t going to go out while your dad wasn’t with you, and you didn’t want to hang out with Roy. Nothing against him, but Roy could get a bit too rowdy for your taste. Sighing, you jolted when your phone started to ring. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ms. Todd.”

You froze and asked quietly. 

“Who is this?”

“My name is Hasan. Who I am does not matter at this moment, however. It is in your best interest to listen to what I have to say, Ms. Todd.” 

His accent was thick, sounding Middle Eastern, and you wondered lowly how this man got your number.

“I have been informed by a reliable source that you have been having some...very strange dreams lately?” 

How did this man know that? You didn’t know anybody by the name of Hasan, and certainly none of your Middle Eastern friends at school had a family member named Hasan (at least, that you knew about). 

“How did you know that? Who are you? How do you know me?”

The man sighed, sounding like his patience was wearing thin with you.

“That will be explained in due time.However, I have been informed that I must tell you about what is happening to you as soon as possible before it is too late. Ms. Todd, what you are suffering from is not PTSD nor nightmares.”

“What...What do you mean?”

“You are suffering from the symptoms of a demonic influence present within your spiritual self.”

A pause had overcome both of you, and you were tempted to laugh. However, after having met some of your grandfathers...superhero colleagues, you knew that this man could very well be right. You bit your lip, saying. 

“Mr. Hasan, I don’t...I don’t see how it could be that. I’m traumatized. I was beaten half to death. Who the hell wouldn’t be traumatized after that?” 

Hasan hummed in agreement, sounding like he was exhausted. 

“I understand your confusion, but trust me, Ms. Todd. My superiors came across your case while in the USA. They have been keeping track of your progress since the suspicion of demonic activity was thrown into the air. They believe your case I...eh, unique, and they told me they have seen these symptoms in many demonic possession cases. I do believe that some of your symptoms are very real, but it seems that my superiors believe that there is...another factor creating these symptoms. It’s why you have not been getting better.”

You were in shock. There were people keeping tabs on you and you didn’t even know? You suddenly became paranoid, looking around the house, wondering if it was bugged. You asked quietly. 

“What do you want me to do? I can’t...I can’t just leave...and I don’t know why I would trust you or how to trust you.”

The man hummed and you could hear the shuffling of papers in the background. 

“I was going to suggest meeting up so I could show you proof in person. I understand you must have many questions and must be very confused. Would today at Robinson Park at two be appropriate for you?”

Looking at the clock, you could see it was eleven am, and replied. 

“Yeah. That should be fine. Hasan, how do I know I can trust you?”

He paused before stating bluntly and then hanging up. 

“You don’t. The only person you can trust is yourself.”

-TIMESKIP-

When two had started to roll around, you had carefully showered, brushed your hair and teeth, and put on a simple pair of jeans that were easy to maneuver in, a Red Hood themed T-shirt, and a loose, zip up jacket. Slipping on some shoes, you set out for the Robinson Park. When you arrived, it hit two o’clock on the dot, and you looked around, wondering if the man was going to show up. 

“Ms. Todd?”

When you turned, you didn’t expect to see someone so...young. The man, who you assumed to be Hasan by his voice, seemed to be in his late twenties.  His black hair was gelled back slightly, still looking soft while classy, and his facial hair was trimmed neatly, almost seeming geometric. 

However, that wasn’t what shocked you the most. It was his greenish blue eyes that seemed to glow in the sunlight against his smooth, tanned skin. Hasan wore a dark blue tux, a black leather shoulder bag leaning against his hip, clearly meaning business. On the jacket’s collar, you could see a small, silver pin.

The pin was circular, catching the light and gleaming at you as you tried to see what it was. When he walked a bit closer, you could see that it was a sun shining over an oasis. A peculiar little thing; you wondered what it meant.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s take a walk. The weather is nice today.”

You hummed and shoved your hands into your pockets, your hand gripping a tazer your uncle Tim had given you just in case you ever needed help and your father wasn’t there. If you used it, it sent off a signal to the Batfam, alerting them of where you were. Tim had designed the device himself, and gave to to you for christmas.

Walking alongside the man, you asked him. 

“So, are you going to tell me anything?”

“What do you want to know?”

You paused, wondering a lot of things. However, deciding it would be ebst to know this man before making any judgement call to trust him, you asked. 

“Where are you from?” 

Hasan looked at you, looking slightly surprised before replying. 

“I am from Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I grew up there for my entire childhood before I moved to my current home:  Gotham City. With my job, however, I move around a lot.”

You swuinted at him a bit before asking.

“How old are you?”

“I am 26 years old.”

Wow. He was very young. Hasan didn’t seem to be 26. He carried himself like a man in his mid thirties...like a man very well on his way to the top. He was mature and patient. You were doubtful he was 26. 

“What’s your full name?” 

“My full name is Hasan el-Shahidi.” 

He looked at me before stating jokingly.

“I am sure you are not here with me to give me a background check, Ms. Todd. I assure you, I am legal.” 

You blushed in embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to find out who you are before I can make a call on whether or not I can trust you.” 

Hasan sighed slightly, patting your back. 

“I understand. I will tell you anything you want to know about me, but after we speak about your case.”

You said nothing. Walking a little more, you both approached a picnic bench and sat down across from  each other. He opened his briefcase, pulling out a folder printed in a language that you couldn’t read. Guessing it was arabic, you wondered if Damian would be able to read it. Pulling out some papers, he informed. 

“I’m going to ask you a series of questions. I want you to answer as honestly as possible. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, or feel that you are going to have an episode, please do inform me.” 

“Before we start...are you a therapist?”

Hasan let out a hearty laugh, patting your hand after a moment, his smile wide and handsome. 

“I am anything but. This is just to make sure that my superiors were right in assuming your case is what it is.”

His superiors. He kept calling the people who knew about you his superiors. Who were these people? Hasan arranged the small pile of papers, took a pen out, and wrote on it before asking you. 

“Your name is (Y/n) (Middle name) Todd, correct?”

You nodded. 

“Yeah. That’s the name on my birth certificate.” 

He nodded, murmuring a ‘very good’ And checked something off on the paper. Hasan read off another question, his pen clicking against the paper. 

“You were born (birthday) in (birth month) in the year (birth year) and are currently (age) years old, correct?”

You nodded and he hummed before asking you. 

“When did your nightmares first start?”

You paused before thinking about to the first day you awoke in the hospital, biting your lip as chills ran down your spine. 

“Two months and a day ago. I was still in the hospital.” 

He wrote down what you said before asking you, looking up at you. 

“When do you think the PTSD sysmptoms started?” 

“Probably about a week after the incident.” 

Hasan nodded before writing that down and he asked me. 

“What happens in your nightmares?” 

You swallowed thickly, feeling your stomach tighten uncomfortably. Flashes in your mind made you close your eyes and look down, your breathing shallowing slightly. 

“I...I see...I see him..” 

Tears filled yoru eyes as you tried to explain what you saw in your nightmares. 

“He...He’s there...and I’m back in that damn place...but it’s different every time. Sometimes my dad is there...other times it’s my other family members...one time it was even my mom-” 

You choked up, feeling your body going cold as your muscles began to shake. Hasan called your name gently. 

“Ms. Todd, do you need to stop?” 

He placed his hand on yours, and while you gave yourself a moment to breathe, you failed to see his fingertips glow blue, his eyes glowing a slight gold. You felt calm in the next breath you took, your stomach relaxing, and your breathing returning to normal. It took a moment for you to regain your composure, but you looked up after a moment, wiping your eyes, and replied. 

“I’m...ok. I just. I  needed a moment.” 

Hasan’s eyes were comforting, and he pulled back, saying. 

“If you would like to take a break, you are more than welcome to.” 

“I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” 

Hasan hummed and asked. 

“I’m going to ask you a series of yes or no questions. Some will have a third option that I will read out to you, but most are just yes or no. Please answer as honest as possible. Do you suffer from nightmares more than twice a week?”

“Yes.”

-JASONS POV--

Jason was with Bruce, Tim, Dick, and Damian, walking around the city to explore and talk about (Y/n) and her situation. 

“Well, we can set up therapy session for her! I know someone who is really good with kids and wouldn’t mind talking to (Y/n)-”

“-(Y/n) would punch them in the face if she’s anything like me.” 

Jason disagreed. (Y/n) hated talking about how she felt. The last person she would talk to would be a therapist, that was for sure. As they turned the corner, Dick paused and asked. 

“Am...am I seeing right? That is (Y/n)...right?”

Jason looked up, and sure enough, there (Y/n) was...sitting across from a man. It looked like they were talking, the man filling something out as they talked, and Damian squinted. Tim pointed out. 

“Um, if I’m not mistaken, that looks like a therapy session to me.” 

Bruce was grinning at Jason as Jason stood there dumbfounded. Did you actually go out and seek help? Jealousy burned through his veins as he frowned, envious that it wasn’t him you went to for help. His feet were moving,a nd before he had any idea what he was doing, he had approached you towo and asked. 

“Hey, (Y/n). I was just passing by and happened to see you. Who’s this?”

-READERS POV-

Panic settled into your veins, though it didn’t show onto your face. Hasan was subtle about putting the papers away as you said the first thing to come to mind. 

“This is my therapist, Dr. Hasan.”

Hasan gave you a ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look, and Jason looked shocked. Hasan cleared his throat and put on a friendly smile, standing up and holding a hand out for Jason. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I assume you are her father, yes? You two look very much a like.” 

Jason shook his hand, weary, but replied back. 

“Uh, yeah. Name’s Jason. (Y/n), you didn’t tell me you were seeing a therapist.” 

“Well, no, of course not. I...I didn’t want you know.” 

You looked down, fiddling with your jacket as Hasan pulled back and observed. He said to you, holding out a paper that was folded. 

“It was great talking with you, Ms. Todd. We shall meet again, here, if you’d like, at the same time. Have a great day, Ms. Todd. It was a pleasure meeting you, as well, Mr.  Todd.”

You could feel something within the paper, and when you opened the paper, there was a card inside. The only thing written on it was a name, but when the light caught the iridescent lettering, a phone number was revealed. Humming, you shoved the paper into your jacket’s pocket and waved goodbye to Hasan.

Jason watched the man walk off, a look in his eyes that you couldn’t identify, and Jason’s eyes looked to you. He asked you. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” 

“I know, I just...I didn’t want to bother you with any more problems than you already have on your plate. I know that trying to juggle being Red Hood and raising me isn’t easy, and now with me being fucked up like I am-”

“-Stop talking. Just shut up for a moment. I don’t want you to ever talk about yourself as if you are a burden ever again, you hear me?” 

Jason sat down and took your hands in his own, tugging you to make you sit next to him. He whispered to you. 

“You’re not fucked up, (Y/n). You’re traumatized, and that’s OK. You just need time and someone to be there for you to listen to you just to listen, not to try and fix you. Yeah, raising you is a pain in my ass, but you’re the best pain in my ass yet.” 

You both chuckled and he kissed your forehead. 

“Being Red Hood doesn’t mean a damn thing to me...at least, when it comes to you. You will always come first before the job does. If seeing a therapist is what you want to do, then I will support you. Just...just don’t be afraid to come talk to me. I may not be the easiest person to talk to, but I know a thing or two about trauma.”

Kissing your forehead again, he rubbed your back and asked. 

“How about you spend the day with me and the guys? We were just about to hit up the burger joint up the street.” 

You smile and nodded before getting up, your father following after you. As Dick, Tim, and Damian greeted you, you momentarily forgot the guilt that weighed in your heart, the card in your pocket seeming to be the weight on your world instead of the nightmares.

---

Part Three

[stony-feels1776]

Recovery - A New Day (Chapter Three)

This is part three of Recovery, a Stony Fic!

Warning: Angst

{More under the read more}

{link to it on wattpad: x }

{part 1}

{part 2}

Tony woke with a start at five am, the faint streaks of light from the sunrise sneaking into his dark room. Tony tried to slow his breathing. He wasn't sure if he had a nightmare or something- but he did know that he actually slept alright for once.

He took a shaky breath and groaned as he got out of bed. He looked at his alarm clock and sighed, stretching before wincing in pain. He strapped on the stupid leg thing that would support him as he walked and exited his room, yawning.

Today, he was feeling much better. Tired, dizzy, and a tad bit nauseous, but alright. He was pretty sure he'd basically threw up his whole stomach last night. He limped out into the living room, where he was surprised to see Clint still awake, staring at the TV.

Tony silently snuck around him - which wasn't hard to do, once Clint gave his attention to something almost nothing could distract him. Ah, Disney, of course. Cinderella. One of Clint's favorites. Tony smiled at him and walked into the kitchen, wanting to make himself a cup of coffee. However, he was disappointed when he realized the coffee machine was still gone. He sighed hastily, which made Clint jump and pull his bow and an arrow off the ground.

Clint rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh when he saw Tony. Sitting down, he smiled at him. "Hey, Tony," He said quietly, "can't sleep anymore?" Tony nodded, expecting Clint to yell at him for being awake. Instead, he just nodded in understanding, "I'm glad you slept."

Tony sat down next to him, yawning. "Yeah, me too, bud. Seriously? Cinderella? Again? You're such a nerd. Is that what Disney fans are? Or are they dorks?" He asked, his voice sharp, sarcastic, but caring.

"Ner-orks. But also really cool people, if you must know, Tony. I would know," he put his hand under his chin, "because I am a Disney fan and extremely cool, obviously." He sounded full of himself. He fidgeted with the arrows and ruffled his hair. "Are we going to completely ignore last night? Because I'd both love to and hate too."

"God, Clint, you're a weirdo." Tony said, chuckling, "Make up your mind." Tony patted Clint's knee gently before standing up.

"Actually, I did. I've decided that we'll talk about it later. But for now, I have a prank. A little bit of fun. I figured you needed it," Clint touched his hearing aid gently, smirking a little.

Ah, leave it to Clint to figure out a way to piss off/amuse the team. Tony spread his arms and make a 'let's hear it' face. Clint licked his lips and started to use his hands to explain.

"Okay, so, the team thinks slash knows you and Steve are basically a team - by the way, you are a thing, right? Y'all kissed. Three times. I didn't tell anyone about the first time, y'know, I was being a good friend back then. But you kissed twice. In front of everyone, dude. It's obvious y'all love each other." Tony awkwardly shifted on the couch as Clint talked, "But no worries, Tony, no one will bring it up yet. Anyways, I have a plan. The Avengers need a laugh." The smirk on Clint's face was priceless. He'd come up with something clever.

"We should totally act like a couple to freak everyone out," Clint said, a smile playing on his lips. Tony laughed.

"Oh my God, Clint, they'd have a heart attack. Natasha would probably give me her sternest parent-talk about how if I broke your heart she'd stab me violently." Tony said, ignoring the pain in his ribs as he coughed. He was fine.

Clint raised his eyebrows. "I bet Steve would get jealous. You did kiss him yesterday."

"Hey!" Tony protested, "We're not actually dating or anything." He paused. "Kissing him was a mistake." His voice dropped. Clint put his hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Hey, it was not. Steve kissed you like five seconds later. Dude, you're fine. He loves you." Clint said supportively, gasping at a part in the movie. Tony looked at the screen then back at Clint. Clint smiled at the movie in such a Clint way that it made Tony laugh some more. He clutched his ribs and coughed slightly. Clint immediately turned to him, concerned.

"Tony, ground rules: you are to tell me if you feel sick or tired or nervous you are to tell me immediately. And, try not to puke all over my hot bod." Clint said, accidentally slipping and using sign language again. Clint did this whenever he was nervous.

"Alright," Tony said before raising his eyebrows, "honey."

"I see we are using my awesome, hilarious plan!" Clint said, whooping. "Alright, sweetheart. Should we just," he suddenly looked awkward, which was a weird look on Clint, as nothing ever seemed to faze him, "flirt with each other? God, they'll all fall for this."

As if on cue, Bruce walked into the room, clearly exhausted. "Oh, darling," Tony complained, "you simply must buy me a new coffee machine." He wrapped his arms around Clint, who was still sitting.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Love, you're not allowed to have coffee." Clint wrapped his arms around Tony's waist and put his forehead against Tony's. Bruce sighed and the rest of the team appeared. Tony jumped - a real flinch, they popped out of nowhere, the goddamned idiots - and Clint stood up. Tony rubbed his face and didn't look up. Clint was stuttering, pretending like he couldn't get words out. Unlike Tony, Clint could blush super easily. A single thought? The man's face could turn red. And so it did.

Steve paused, and Tony could see him fighting a war within himself. Thor was laughing. Bruce was shrugging it off, although he looked confused, Natasha was basically glaring at them but her eyes sparkled, and Rhodey was blinking in astonishment.

But Steve's sad look was killing Tony.

"Hey! Hey! Just a joke, y'all." Clint said, noticing Steve too, giving a sorry look to Tony. "We wanted to see if y'all would be happier or something. Tony and me? Seriously, guys? He'd gladly punch me and I've literally shot at him before."

Tony stood up and smiled, laughing. "Yes. You really thought I'd date someone like Clint? All of you are fools," he glanced at Steve, who was looking confused and a little hurt still. Natasha gave a sigh of relief and the rest of them laughed.

"Steve's an exception. He's an idiot, but he's a handsome idiot." Tony added, regretting it immediately. Steve blushed and looked like he was unable to say anything. He still looked iffy on the situation.

"Th-thanks...?" Steve finally responded, looking at his feet. Tony clenched his jaw. Great job, Mr. Stark, you've made the room awkward again.

"Alright. Let's go out. I don't want to stay here. Unless, of course, you let me go into my own basement." Tony said, throwing his hands into the air and picking up a cookie from a plate in the kitchen. He bit into it. It tasted lovely - Natasha and Bruce probably made them (don't tell anyone, but Tony knows how they love to cook together - and even though Wanda and Vision usually are the ones cooking, everyone agrees Nat and Bruce are the real talented chefs).

Clint shifted and smiled at Natasha. "We should go out," he said, "some sunshine would do us all good." Steve nodded and grabbed Tony's hand. Tony shivered at his touch. Steve's hands were cold but soft. Tony could feel the gentleness and the strength in them. Tony looked up at Steve's eyes.

"I agree. Who's up for a picnic?" Bruce said, toying with a pencil. Natasha was already searching for some sort of big basket. "I can get Thor over here. I talked to Rhodey; he's busy. Sam is too. I can see if Pepper can meet us." Bruce offered.

Natasha nodded. "Thor should come, but Pepper's working today. Vision and Wanda are probably making out somewhere in a romantic forest, so let's not worry about them." She grabbed a large woven basket and started planning what everyone would eat.

"We all like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, correct?" Tony asked. Everyone nodded. "Alright, Nat, you're on sandwich duty. Brucie, you can borrow one of my cars, please go get some snacks. Uh - let's see - Clint, we need some - goddamn, am I still not allowed to drink? - water, I suppose. Sparkling, please. And Steve, I need a kiss right here," he pointed at his cheek finally, ordering everyone around. Like he usually would.

Steve kissed Tony gently on the cheek and everyone scurried to do what they needed to. Tony smiled and helped Natasha with the sandwiches. "Tony, I'm proud of you." Nat whispered, "Look at what you've done."

Tony sighed. "It's not enough. I caused all of you grief. I made you guys worry." He responded quietly, dropping the knife. He bent over and picked it up, walking over to the sink to clean it, not trusting the floor to be perfectly clean.

"Tony, after you got - when you were in the hospital, we all thought the team would disband. We fought. Steve said that what we were doing was getting too dangerous. Bruce said that Steve was being stupid and that the world - and you, Tony - needed us more than ever. Steve threatened to quit. Physical fighting almost broke out. But Tony, you, you and your brilliant, charismatic, kind mind brought us back together." Natasha said, putting together two sandwiches for every one Tony made.

Tony sighed. "I'm glad some people feel that way," he mumbled, "but I should have listened to Clint. We could have captured them and rescued his daughter."

Natasha sighed, "You're wrong, Tony," she whispered, "they called us right after you left. They said that if the team - or more than one person - showed up, they'd kill her right away. We couldn't go after you, even."

Tony sighed and licked his lips, swallowing. Natasha suddenly took a sandwich without the top piece of bread and smacked it on Tony's face, making him stumble as it slipped off his face, leaving a trail of peanut butter and jelly on his cheek. He smiled and laughed, sticking his finger in the jelly and flicking a bit at Natasha, who gracefully avoided it, a smirk on her lips.

Clint walked into the kitchen and naturally joined in, grabbing the ketchup from the fridge and holding it dangerously. Tony put his hands up instantly. Natasha, unfortunately, was too late to surrender and Clint sprayed her with the red liquid, making her smooth ginger hair drip with the stuff. Tony chuckled before a spray of ketchup landed on his cheek. "Not fair, Barton! I had surrendered!" He exclaimed.

"What in the world are you doing?" Bruce whispered, horrified. He nearly avoided a squirt of ketchup. "Clint! Watch it! I'm not in this!" He said, slowly walking backward. Thor suddenly burst into the room, and when Clint tried to hit him with the vile tomato paste, his hammer got hit pretty hard.

Thor laughed. "You humans are hilarious! You throw food at each other simply to create conflict and make a mess!" He said, wiping his eyes. He licked some ketchup off his hammer before grimacing in disgust. "You drink weird liquids, too! What a vile kind of wine!" He said, obviously confused.

"Hey, bud, that's not wine, I'm banned, remember?" Tony said, and then Clint pointed the ketchup back at him.

"And you won't drink anything, right?" Clint threatened, eyes cold and face hard as he glared at Tony, squeezing the ketchup bottle slightly. Tony raised his hands a bit more.

"Nope! A good person, I am, would never disobey my best friends," he said quickly in response. He slowly grabbed the spraying thing by the sink and tapped it, spraying Clint with viciously cold water instantly, making him jump and drop the ketchup. Natasha swooped down and grabbed it, pouring loads of the tomato sauce on Clint's head, where it dripped down all across his body.

"Aaah! Nat!" He cried in dismay, jumping backward and grabbing a cookie that was sitting on the counter before throwing it so it just missed Natasha and crumbled against the wall. "You know I never miss, Nat!" He cried, picking up a pie. Natasha gasped.

"You wouldn't dare!" She said, mocking betrayal. Clint began to throw the pie, but instead of hitting Natasha, it landed right on Tony's face. Tony gasped and the room began to scream in uproar as he wiped his eyes. Clint fell on the floor he was laughing so hard.

Thor laughed and Bruce was doing the 'oooohhhh' thing that happens in public schools with Clint, and Natasha was whooping. Tony blinked it out of his eyes and grabbed the sink thing again, spraying Thor and Bruce with it. Bruce yelped and ducked behind a couch and Thor pretended to wash his long hair with the water.

Clint leaped from off the floor and turned the squirty-thing to face Tony, making him get himself all wet. Tony gasped as the water sloshed against his face. "Friday! Turn off the sink!" He cried and the sink turned off quickly. Tony wiped his face, laughing. "My house, Clint, I make the rules! No spraying me with water!" Tony said, smirking.

Just then, Steve walked in and came up to Tony, grabbing his hand. Flustered, Tony didn't realize Clint pouring a bottle of water over his head. Tony gasped as the cold water ran down his body. "Clint!" He cried. Steve chuckled and Tony looked ultra betrayed, with his mouth hanging open and everything. Tony could hear Bruce laughing on the couch and Thor was grinning.

"Hey! Hey! I surrender!" Tony cried, feeling his ribs starting to ache. He gulped and tried to force his body to stop hurting. He raised his hands, ripping his hand out of Steve's maybe a little too forcefully. Steve looked at Tony with a confused and hurt look.

Clint narrowed his eyes. "Alright, guys," Tony guessed Clint must have been able to tell Tony was hurting, "let's clean up and get going." Natasha nodded, examining Tony with her eyes. Tony shifted, uncomfortable. He needed to step up his 'I'm fine' game.

"Dum-e, hey, you two, clean this all up," Tony commanded, making the robots jump a little before scurrying over. "They'll probably be half-way done by the time we get back, but they'll do it. Or I'll sell them online," He added, glaring down the robots, which moved faster.

Clint was in charge of holding the basket for the whole walk, despite his efforts to avoid this duty. Originally, Steve was going to carry it, because of super-strength and everything, but after Clint's act with the ketchup, they all deemed it an appropriate punishment for poor Clint. He'd grumbled a little, but when the whole team's staring down at you stubbornly, you kind of have to obey.

They walked for a little while. It was a sunny day with a nice breeze, and the grass was green as spring had begun. Tiny flowers were sprouting up along the sidewalks. Tony led them to a small park. It looked like nothing at first; New York had much larger, nicer parks, but this one was small with one table and was surrounded by trees. It was also completely empty.

Except for two people.

"Bucky!" Steve cried, running towards his friend, who was supposed to be sitting at home, far away, in a cold forest cabin. Bucky opened his arms too late and Steve and him ended up on the ground.

"Peter!" Tony said, grimacing. He loved the kid, don't get him wrong. Peter walked over, smiling awkwardly, ruffling his own hair.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," He said. Tony rubbed his head but smiled and patted Peter on the back. Clint squinted at Peter before handing him the basket. Peter took it, almost falling with its weight, which he didn't expect. Natasha shook Peter's hand and grabbed the basket from him, giving Clint a mean look. Bucky was awkwardly trying to push Steve off of him while Steve pestered him with questions.

Tony looked away. Why couldn't Steve hug him like that? He tried to push away the spikes of jealousy. He gulped and gestured to the table, sitting down next to Peter. Natasha put the basket on the table - which rocked everytime someone moved or bumped into it - and took a sandwich out before jumping up into a tree next to the table. Clint tried to grab one too, but Peter grabbed it and pulled it towards him, smirking at Clint. Peter took two out, handing one to Tony, who accepted it with a quick 'thanks, kid.'

Everyone took a sandwich. Thor ended up sitting on the grass - Clint told him he'd crush the seat with his massive muscles - Steve sat next to Bucky, Clint had climbed into the tree - higher than Natasha - and Bruce sat down next to Tony. Tony, Bruce, and Peter began to talk about electrons and what Peter was doing in school, while Steve and Bucky talked about the 'old days.' Clint and Natasha were bickering fondly, as usual.

When everyone was done, Peter jumped up on the table and smiled at everyone. He clapped his hands together, making Clint, who was arguing about scientific things he didn't know anything about, jump and almost fall. Tony snickered. "I have a friend I'd like all of you to meet," he said, "well, you've technically met her before. She'll be here in five, four," he started counting down.

Interrupting him, a young, pretty girl walked up. "Shuri! That's my main meme! Everyone, officially meet Shuri. She's King T'Challa's sister." Peter said, extending his hand. She took it and jumped on the table with him.

Clint fell with a yelp suddenly. Everyone turned to see Black Panther in his place. T'Challa took off the mask and looked at everyone, smiling at his sister. "Ow..." Clint groaned from the ground, where he landed on his bum. Natasha laughed at him. Everyone stood. Tony, Bruce, and Steve bowed. Steve elbowed Bucky, who then bowed with them. Peter saluted the King. Thor smiled.

"Ah! So you're the other king!" Thor said, chuckling. "I am Thor." T'Challa raised his eyebrows.

"I know," T'Challa responded. Shuri touched Bucky's hair, making Bucky turn around, perplexed. "Shuri, please cease touching people's hair. It is not only strange, but it is also awkward." He commented. Shuri shrugged and touched Peter's.

"It's nice to see you again, Your Majesty," Tony said. Natasha nodded in agreement. Bucky and Steve shifted. Bucky hid his face and looked like he was going into cardiac arrest and was constipated at the same time. Steve grabbed his hand. Another wave of jealousy ran over Tony. Bucky was just Steve's friend. They were like brothers. No reason to get jealous.

Clint walked over to stand by Steve. "I apologize, Barton, for knocking you down. I hope that all of our rivalries have diminished. Same to you, Rogers and Barnes." T'Challa commented, jumping down and landing with perfect grace.

"We apologize too. We all forgive each other, then?" Steve said. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Awesome. Now, what are we going to do?" Clint said.

"Vines!" Peter and Shuri yelled simultaneously.

"Shuri, your addiction to 'vines' and 'memes' is getting out of hand, please do not annoy everybody with them like you do me-" T'Challa started, facepalming, shaking his head.

"Peter, remember how I told you to not do anything that I wouldn't do? Would I indulge in vines?" Tony said.

Shuri and Peter laughed. "Hey, Jared, can you read number nineteen to the class?" Shuri asked.

"No I cannot," Peter responded, "hi I'm Jared, I'm nineteen and I never fucking learned how to read."

Tony gasped. "Watch your language!" He scolded. T'Challa looked like he was dying. Thor laughed.

"Peter, your name isn't even Jared!" Thor said, slapping his knee. Clint looked pleased and Natasha raised her eyebrows. However, Bucky and Steve looked confused and lost.

"Brother! Please, put your mask on. I wish to show them the technology." Shuri said. T'Challa did so, standing on the bench. Shuri pointed to the ears. "Such ears! Much wow! Very good! Such awesome! Much cat!" She exclaimed. Peter was laughing so hard he had to sit down. T'Challa put his hand up to where his mouth would be before jumping back on the tree.

"Shuri, I swear-" he started.

"Captain Rogers, may I see your shield? It's made of vibranium, right?" Shuri asked sweetly. Steve handed her the shield, nodding, confused. Shuri handed it to Peter. "This bitch empty!" Shuri yelled.

Peter looked at her with a desperate look before throwing Steve's shield, screaming "YEET" as loud as he could. Steve looked so confused he might cry. Bucky was chuckling. Tony and T'Challa glanced at each other.

Clint grabbed a stick. "This bitch empty, too!" He shouted before throwing the stick at Natasha, screaming 'yeet' too. Natasha caught it easily. Thor raised his hammer.

"Wait, no-" Tony said before Thor threw it gently, whispering 'yeet.'

"It didn't do anything special. What is the point of this spell?" Thor asked, looking genuinely disappointed.

"It's not a spell," T'Challa explained, "it is a stupid thing that children these days find interest in."

"Hey! I'm old and I like vines!" Clint objected. T'Challa sighed, obviously pondering his existence.

"You don't count. You're basically a big baby." Natasha chimed in, sharpening the stick with a pocket knife.

"What? Explain!" Clint demanded.

"Well, you like to throw fits, are dramatic, egotistical at your low skills - I mean, Tony's egotistical, but he at least has some skills - and you like to color in children's coloring books. Not to mention you cry at Disney movies." Natasha retaliated instantly. Clint stuck out his tongue at her.

"Okay, but how can you not cry at them? Y'all don't have hearts." Clint shot back.

"I cry at Disney movies!" Peter chimed in. Tony looked disappointed.

"If I may interrupt," Clint said, gently pushing Peter off the table, "can we talk about how Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are totally fucking in secret?"

"Clint!" Steve and Tony both cried. Steve covered his face with his hand and Tony put his head on Bruce's shoulder as Bruce laughed. Peter gasped. Shuri and T'Challa looked confused. Peter whispered to her why everyone was freaking out about this.

"Wait! Does this mean all that fighting was sexual tension?" Shuri asked. Steve looked at her with alarm. Tony shifted.

"No, it wasn't!" Tony said finally, "It was - we were - it was fighting! Disagreeing!" He said. Bruce pat him on the shoulder. Steve's face was red. Wait- did Steve feel that way back then? Oh god.

"Ah, so it was just a divorce." Shuri came to the conclusion.

"We weren't dating!" Tony said. "We- we aren't dating! Wait- are we dating?" Tony said, confused. His head was beginning to spin and he felt lightheaded. He took a deep breath. He was fine.

"Uh," Steve paused, "a-are we?" Tony didn't answer. How could he? They waited in silence. Steve walked over to Tony and put his hand on Tony's cheek. "Do you want to be?" Steve asked gently. Tony looked up at his blue eyes and his gentle face. Tony opened his mouth but no sound would come out. Tony nodded and gently leaned his head against Steve's chest. Steve ran his hands over Tony's hair before kissing his head gently.

"Oh, aren't I the perfect matchmaker?" Shuri bragged. Tony lifted his head and looked at her, mouthing 'thank you' to her. She winked at him. "Well, T'Challa and I better be going," she paused and smirked, "for now. My main meme, keep sending me memes you find." And with that, her and T'Challa walked away.

Steve leaned down, startling Tony before Steve picked him up bridal-style easily. Tony smiled fondly. "I weigh nothing to you, do I?" He asked.

"Tony, a car weighs nothing to me," Steve said, "but that worries me because I could so easily hurt you." His hands gently held Tony, but fear was prominent in his eyes. Tony reached up and touched Steve's face.

"You never hurt me," Tony whispered. It wasn't true, of course. Steve almost killed Tony. Tony swallowed hard. No, this Steve, the Steve he loved, wouldn't hurt him. Steve smiled at him and put Tony down gently.

"Okay, good job guys, but get a room? My poor eyes," Clint said, covering his eyes, acting disgusted despite grinning. Natasha nodded in agreement but gave them a thumbs up. Bruce was focusing on sketching something. Peter clapped. Thor smiled.

"Well, I must be going," Thor said before promptly leaving, shooting into the sky. They waved and watched him go.

"Anyone else leaving?" Tony asked, his gaze falling on Bucky. He didn't hate Bucky, don't get him wrong, but knowing that Bucky had such a deep relationship with Steve - and was single - worried him. What if Steve decided he loved Bucky more and left him? Tony couldn't talk much of the old days with Steve, while Bucky could recite their precious childhood memories.

Natasha nodded. "I've got a mission. Clint, you can stay here. Bucky, you're coming with me. We've got heavy things that need to be lifted." She said. Steve looked at Bucky, longing in his eyes. He missed his best friend. They'd lost so much time together. A pit of sorrow was dragging Tony down. Maybe Steve deserved Bucky. Maybe Steve shouldn't love Tony. Why should he? Tony was cocky, arrogant, and stupid. Someone like Steve deserved better. The whole team deserved better.

Bucky smiled at Steve. "Well, you've finally decided to get in a relationship," he said, eyes shining. He looked proud. A little sad, maybe, but mostly proud. As a friend should be. He and Natasha walked away, talking.

"Okay, guys, uh-" Peter began, "we should dance. Aunt May and I always dance when we go to empty parks. It's fun, c'mon." Tony was about to object when Peter said, "Please?" God, how can anyone not give into that? Tony sighed and chuckled.

"Sure, kid." Tony said. Steve jumped up on the table - which creaked and complained - while Bruce sat on the grass, running his fingers over the blades and drawing. "Friday, please play my kid-friendly playlist." Clint jumped to his feet.

"No way. Disney music?" He cried, excited as 'Be Our Guest' started playing. Clint jumped up and down, acting far too dramatic. Steve looked around.

"How are you supposed to dance to Disney?" Steve asked while Peter did a backflip, landing it perfectly. Clint climbed up the tree and did a backflip too, barely landing it with an 'oof.'

"You're right. Friday, please." One of Tony's favorites came on. Classic 'Back In Black.' Tony began dancing to it. It wasn't good dancing. If they were recording, it would probably end up on the 'cringier' side of YouTube.

Crash!

The table fell with a crash. Peter, luckily, landed on Steve instead of Steve landing on him. Clint began to laugh obnoxiously. Clint could laugh very loudly, and if you weren't in a good mood, you'd slap him, but usually, his laughter made everyone else laugh. And it did. Peter started laughing so hard he was crying while Steve looked concerned.

Tony chuckled and asked, "Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah," Peter said in between wheezes. Steve nodded and gently lifted Peter off of him an set him on the ground carefully. "Oh! Captain. I'll go get your shield. I'm sorry for throwing it." He added apologetically. Steve laughed and patted him on the back.

"It's no problem," Steve said kindly. "But I would appreciate it if you could retrieve it for me." Peter nodded and quickly ran in the direction he 'yeeted' it in. Steve turned to Tony, Clint, and Bruce, "So, this was fun. What now? What excitement awaits us?"

Just then, Thor landed back in front of them. With Loki next to him, smirking. Clint took a deep, shaky breath and Bruce let out a tiny 'oh no' while Steve and Tony simply looked at them. "Hello, friends! I brought my brother! Loki!"

Loki bowed, chuckling. Clint reached for the stick that Natasha had been sharpening and then held it threateningly towards Loki's heart. Loki raised his eyebrows. "Ah, lovely, you're all still feisty." He said, "What fun this'll be."

"Don't fucking try me," Clint hissed, "I'm a trained assassin. I'll kill you." Thor laughed at this. Loki stepped closer, looming over Clint. Clint held the stick tighter - so tight that his knuckles were turning white and the splinters were digging into his hand.

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Loki said, walking around Clint. "Ah, Captain Rogers. What a pleasure to see you and Mr. Stark again. And is that the Hulk? Wow. I'm so pleased." Loki reached for Tony's hand. Tony slowly shook hands with him, but when he tried to pull his hand back, Loki gripped it tighter. "Ah, so you are injured. What a pity." Tony took a deep breath and yanked his hand back.

"Hey, back off," Steve said, intervening. He grabbed Tony's hand gently, making sure Loki hadn't hurt Tony. Clint suddenly stabbed the piece of wood into Loki's shoulder violently. Loki sighed and lazily pushed Clint to the ground. Loki grabbed the piece of wood and yanked it out of his shoulder.

"You do realize, Clint Barton, that I am a god?" Loki said, looking disappointed. Clint clenched his jaw and stood up. Steve stepped closer to Loki, his fists clenched.

"Hey, Captain Crunch, calm down," Tony mumbled, "we're in a park near apartments. A fight here would not be good," Tony glanced at Bruce, who was looking at the ground. Steve unclenched his fists and stretched his fingers. Thor laughed.

"Anyways, I'm leaving you with my brother for now. He was being bothersome back at home, and I figured you would be the perfect," Thor paused, looking perplexed, "babysitters. Ah, that's the word."

"Thor, he tried to kill us!" Clint said, clearly outraged.

"You're allowed to smack him. He does require food occasionally. Get ahold of me if he starts killing people. See you soon! Love you guys." Thor said before flying away. Loki licked his lips and put on a smile.

"We can't - I - I'm - I did not sign up for this!" Clint yelled, kicking the tree. Loki laughed.

"Well, now you're stuck with me. Let's go somewhere. Ooh, how about Stark's home? Don't all of you basically live there anyway?" Loki slipped a gold ring off his finger and swung it around on the tip of his pinky. He was chewing something - Tony guessed some sort of space gum or whatever the hell they eat.

Steve grabbed Loki's arm suddenly, holding it so tight that Loki winced. "No games, alright? If you do anything fishy we'll beat you." He hissed. Loki nodded promptly and Steve let go. Holding his wrist, Loki looked at all of them.

"I'm not here to fight. I don't have any weapons and I know that I cannot beat you without something strong. Don't get me wrong - I'm strong. But it's so much effort to fight! Let's play a game. A fun game." Loki paused and smirked at Bruce, but there was fear deep in his eyes. "How about truth or dare? I hear mortals love that kind of game."

"Yeah, why should we 'play' with you?" Clint hissed.

"Because if you don't," he smirked and pointed a long finger at Bruce, "I might not behave." Bruce shifted and gulped, playing with his pencil. Tony stepped in front of him. What choice did they have? Maybe this could stop Loki from wreaking havoc for a little while. Plus, it's just truth or dare. Nothing too worrisome. They might even have fun.

"Fine," Tony said, jumping in. Clint started glaring at him. "What? Do you really want a fight, right here, right now, Clint?" Tony hissed back at him. Steve sighed. Bruce opened his mouth but didn't say anything. Clint forced a smile on his face and turned to Loki.

"Good. Let's play at the house. Where I have my bow." Clint said, looking darkly at Tony. Tony couldn't help but worry; had he made Clint seriously mad at him? The badass archer was usually pleasant but once you got on his bad side... well, things were never fun. Tony nodded in agreement.

They all started walking back. "This is a terrible idea," Bruce muttered, standing next to Tony. "I-I think it'd be best if I went home. Or somewhere." He whispered to Tony, "I'm not safe." Tony sighed and gritted his teeth.

"Yeah. If you want." Tony responded, rubbing his head, "Good plan." They continued walking for another minute before Bruce apologetically patted Tony on the shoulder and turned around, walking the opposite direction. Tony waved to him and sped up a little, keeping up with Steve and Clint, who were basically marching, glaring down Loki. Loki simply smiled up at them both.

"Bruce decided to walk away," Tony whispered to Clint, who simply ignored him. Tony swallowed hard and rubbed his ribs, which were starting to hurt even more. He walked behind them, carefully, watching the ground, nearly panicking. Everyone hated him. He shouldn't have made the decision. He should have left it to Steve.

Soon enough, they reached the house and went inside. Loki threw himself down on one of the couches and Clint sat down, fingers running over his bow as he grabbed it. Steve sat down next to Tony on a separate loveseat.

"Perfect. The game commences. Tony, darling, truth or dare?" Loki asked, playing with a pen he'd picked up off the coffee table, smirking, eyes glittering. Tony shifted uneasily.

"Truth." He finally answered. He could always lie. Plus, with his body starting to ache, whatever sick dares the manic came up with wouldn't be fun.

"What's your honest opinion on everyone in the room?" Loki asked smoothly after a brief silence. Huh. Tony had expected worse.

"I think you're a fucking idiot and are deeply annoying and I'd gladly kill you. I think that Clint is a pretty alright person and is a very skilled individual, although stubborn, like me. And Steve," Tony paused and looked at him, "well, he's Steve." He hadn't planned on saying anything else, but something unsettling came over him and forced him to keep speaking, "He's perfect. Gorgeous. Strong. Reliable. I don't deserve him, honestly. He's... well, perfect." Tony tried to shut up, but he couldn't. "And he has a nice ass." Tony's face flushed red. "What the fuck?" He said finally, able to control the words coming out of his mouth.

"Ah. Playing truth or dare means that you have to tell the truth and always do the dare. Did I not tell all of you this? And if you decide to quit, I will have to unfortunately light things aflame, and that's never pleasant, so please continue playing." Loki explained with his eyes closed, clicking the pen and shrugging.

Tony's heart rate quickened. Oh no. This could be bad. Clint looked even angrier now and Steve just looked simply confused, flustered, angry, and somewhat pleased all at once. It was odd and confusing. "Clint. Truth or dare." Tony said - he wanted to give Clint the option to pick on Loki.

"Truth," Clint responded, eyes not moving to look at Tony.

"What's your honest favorite color?" Tony asked.

"A soft lilac." He responded, eyes narrowing at Loki, "Okay, asshole, your turn. Truth or dare."

Loki paused and his eyebrows twitched, "Well, since everyone's chosen truth, I'll choose that as well, please."

"What is your most traumatizing experience?" Clint asked. Tony let out a shaky breath, glad he wasn't the one receiving this question. Steve reached out and touched Tony's hand, making him jump. Tony ran his fingers over Steve's hand gently, before giving it a little squeeze.

Loki looked at Clint spitefully, "When I was six I stabbed my brother for the first time. I thought he was going to die. I stabbed myself as well, just to experience what he was going through. After I learned that both him and I could recover from measly stab wounds easily, stabbing him became easier. But it had scared me as a child." Once he was done, he whispered a string of curses and clenched his fist. "Steven!" Loki said sharply, "Truth or dare?"

"I can't believe we're doing this," Steve mumbled, "dare."

"I dare you to throw Mr. Stark out the window," Loki said, a devilish smile growing on his face. Steve opened his mouth to protest and his breathing became increasingly fast as he stood up and grabbed Tony, again bridal-style.

Tony sat in Steve's arms, silently panicking.

You never hurt me.

Tony felt like he was going to throw up as they approached the window. "Stop!" Clint screamed, "Loki, you unprecedented asshole! Stop!" Tony tried to scramble out of Steve's arms as Steve basically hyperventilated, whispering 'no' and 'stop' and 'sorry' over and over and over again.

Steve suddenly threw Tony. The window broke with a crash and Tony began to fall. His armor was destroyed. There was no rescue. The wind whistled in his ears as he fell. Luckily, Tony had been looking up.

The blue sky would be an okay sight to see before you die.

Blue like Steve's eyes.

\\author's note//

ah, yes, the angst train has returned

this one was a doozy!!

struggled a lil bit, but here it is.

please!! leave kind things!! or funny comments!!

also wow how rude of me to leave y'all on a cliffhanger,,,, tell me if you want me to tag you when I update!!

date: 3/28/18

word count: 6333

[crypterion-moon]

Tiamat: Rise in Shadow

“Something so broken can never be fixed, it can only become soomething else”

Tim Drake is dead, and in the ashes of the boy that was once Robin, Red Robin and a Wayne, a new entity arises. Tiamareshka, Inferno of God, Dark Angel of Death among the Hyeshath, the dark, shadowy people that walk through worlds in search of the guilty, the vulnerable and the dying. It feels like an eternity since he came to be but the nightmares of a dead boy still haunt him and his sympathy for man wanes.

But a change is coming, a new world puts him in with the heroes again, and Jason, the last Bat left finally catches up.

A/N: Dark, Angst, Gore, Explicit, Supernatural Element, Witchcraft, Swearing, Slow burn, Multiple crossovers

Movement beside him, the bed suddenly bereft of a presence shifted Tim awake. Far too early for his taste. He cracked open one lazy eye and saw the light seeping through. He promptly shut it again. Any point in the day was too early for Tim, he had never claimed to be a morning person. Unluckily, the person next to him was and work was very important for humans in this society. The sounds of pants, shirts being pulled on, belt buckles being done and a clear thud of the hone on the dresser reached his ears, it felt refreshing to hear such domestic sounds. To not work and earn your living is a failure in the eyes of your mother and father, to not contribute to society is to be a burden. Nothing to do with Tim though, he planned to laze around in the stranger's bed for while longer. At least until night falls again. He rolled over on his side, his arms curled up at his chest and facing the wall, he muttered something unintelligible, which comes out in a soft groan. The bed dipped again, this time Tim could feel lips trailing and kissing their way down his body, from his curled shoulder along each rib, the blanket that covered the lower half of his body was lifted as the man planted a few soft, lingering pecks on his hip.

“Morning beautiful.”

Tim let out a soft moan, just to tease, “Mmmm, don't you have work today?”

“I wish I didn't.”

Tim smirked, his body curled up slightly more, raising his hips slightly higher for some more kisses which his partner for the night happily obliged, his hands stroking along his legs and slipping in between Tim's pale thighs.

“Will I see you again sometime?”

Tim hummed with approval, “Same place after dark.”

“Okay,” the man grinned nibbling playfully at Tim's ear, “I'll see you soon.”

Tim listened to the rustling of clothes, and the closet. He heard the man leave the room and pick up his keys for the bowl in the hallway, and the door clicked shut. He thought about letting himself turn a bit, just some black smoke so he could return without having to physically get up and walk, his body ached deliciously though. Last night was fun and satisfying in one go, though the man was far too tender for his comfort. The idea was that it would just be a once off, non-committal thing where the two of them could have fun but it seemed more like this guy was looking for something more but wasn't aware of it. Tim wriggled about under the covers and took in the scent that clung to the bedsheets, the scent of another human was so addictive. Such a sweet man but rather desperate and lonely, it would be a shame to kill him, even by accident.

The smell and presence of humans, was almost too much in the small space that was this seedy club, and Tim loved it. He could taste the energy flowing and permeating the air. His hunting place, his one stop for a bit of fun and food. The hip-hop trance mix that pulsed around the club was a bit on the obnoxious side but not totally intolerable, the laser light that swirled around the floor was quite irritating so he'd settled himself on the other end of the place where a warm light filled the bar and lounge area still in view of the dancefloor. If it wasn't such a popular place with good choices, he wouldn't even bother coming here. Sitting at the bar, Tim glanced over each face, searching for an acceptable companion for the night. As his eyes scoured over each face, they would sometimes meet with another and often, they would stare and blush. Unable to tear their eyes away, Tim could send them the most devilish look and they'd quickly hide or look away in embarrassment. He'd know when they looked back at him when they thought he'd turned his gaze. People were so easily tempted even when he wasn't trying. Look in their direction in a certain way and it's hook, line and sinker. It was so much fun fooling around with them, especially the dumb ones but only a few were worthwhile. And tonight, the pretty lady in with the shiny jacket should make a nice meal.

Turns out she was quite well off, her apartment was well decorated and nothing displayed seemed to be on the fake or cheap side. A few glances around and it was apparent that she was actually a finance worker of a company, and not a very honest one at that, but at that moment, Tim really couldn't care less. She was healthy, energetic and indeed very full of life...as well as herself. Stupid woman, vain and overestimating, her body screamed for attention, for men to worship her because she deserved it. She'd put down and humiliated a lot of people for her own gain. Tim had avoid looking any further or he'd be turned off by such a rotten soul. For now, he was hungry. One wild night proved fun though it left the woman almost completely drained but he always made sure not to let that happen, Tim was careful about that. The consequences weren't pretty. What he wasn't prepared for was the woman talking and making noises in her sleep, which irritated Tim from sleeping that he had to leave the apartment complex. He slipped out through the window, leathery wings unfurling and soared noiselessly up towards the sky. Tendrils of black wispy smoke slithered out from beneath his skin and around his body, solidifying and materializing as clothing, conveniently. He smirked and he continued to soar over the city before settling on one of the buildings that had a nice domed tower to it, perfect for a resting place. It was annoying having to leave so soon. At least it was a beautiful moon night. His breath ghosted in the chill air which blew softly across his skin as Tim laid down on the metal. He stared up at the and watched the city moving and breathing angrily down below, Gotham was always such a miserable place. The embodiment of filth, probably no better than the city of Sodom though that may be exaggerating. It had a protector after all. He wasn't sure if it was the city that made Batman that grim icon or the other way around. Perhaps it was that vicious cycle. Tim could remember the way Bruce moved, silent and imposing, promptly followed by a young boy in yellow, green and red, laughing at the world. With no pants. Tim smiled wryly. Thinking of Batman and Robin brought back so many memories, the good and bad, they both made his heart ache, what's left of it any way. He turned over and tucked his wing against himself. He'll sleep them away, just for a little while before he moves on.

There's blood on his hands, on his face, in his mouth. Red all around him, pooling at his feet. But he isn't looking, it's his hands he can't tear his eyes away from. Tim's hand, didn't look like a human's any more. The fingers were long and protruding from them were long black claws and they were all red, saturated in warm liquid. It comforted him and horrified him at the same time, like coming out of a high. Not his blood, he looked up. Across from him were corpses, the dead, cooling bodies of his friends, the league and Dick?! Bruce!! Damian...oh god oh god, who did this? He looked around  and saw no one, no one else but him and...Jason. But the man wasn't wearing a mad deranged smile like he remembered once, it was a look of horror and pure fear. His hands were clean. Why was Jason looking at him like that? Suddenly, the Red Hood turned away and walked, Tim tried to get up and follow but he was stuck, unable to move. He called out to Jason.

“You monster.”

Tim woke up to the cool air rapidly warming as the sun rose up over the cityline. Damn, he didn't think he'd sleep the whole night away, it was dawn and he wasn't prepared to take on the full glare of the sun. He was lucky he didn't run into the bat, or the bird for that matter. That would be beyond awkward. He slinked away under the cover of the sun's shadow. He settled down again in his favourite spot, fatigue taking over again. He cursed internally at that damn dream, it always deprived him of rest no matter how long he tried to sleep. He suspected the longer he was in it, the worse it would make him feel and right now, he felt like he hadn't slept in three days. It reminded him so much of his sleepless vigilante days it was almost funny, almost.

“Tiamat.”

A voice whispered to him where he hid, sheltered from the sights of passers-by, high behind the golems of Gotham. Tim stirred from his curled sleep, listening to the multitudes of voices hissing and sighing inaudibly in the background. The space before him twisted and warped with dark energy. Then a figure stepped out from the swirling mass and onto the stone. Greeting Tim with a wide, crooked smile.

“Peter.” The boy responded with a half giggle, his coal black, tight suit rippled with his body.

“Still fooling around? I know you were overly serious before but this takes the cake.”

Tim snorted with contempt, he almost wished he'd ignored the sly bastard but he wasn't bothered with moving. Instead he let his tail answer for him, swatting at Peter with an impatient flick. Of course, it did nothing since he was only a mirage and it passed through his wispy form like it was just smoke, distorting Peter's image only briefly before it settled back in place.

“Someone's moody today.”

“Did you call just to annoy me?”

Peter sat down beside a curled up Tim and reached over, brushing stray strands of hair from his face. As much of an illusion as it was, the boy still felt very real and right there, though his touch felt more like breaths than anything physical.

“You've been seeking out human comfort frequently as of late, have the nightmares returned?”

“...They have always been there, sometimes they're not as bad but then they get louder, clearer, like I'm living it all over again. It happened again last night, when I left early.”

Peter said nothing for a long time, the sound of their breaths drowned out in the city's hum. Tim considered sleeping right here while he could feel Peter's presence. He could ask him to stay for a while while he rested but seeing as he wasn't truly here in the flesh, no doubt he was occupied. It pained Tim to acknowledge how much he needed contact, companionship to chase those damn nightmares away. He felt weak and helpless against himself, he could feel that part of him mocking at him for such dependency, letting it slowly eat him away. It was all his fault of course, your fault your failure murderer murderer demon monster, Jason can't even look at you now, not even Alfred. Tim gasped in shock, clutching at his breast in pain. Peter still at his side reacted accordingly prying Tim's fingers from his chest and holding them.

“Stop, don't let it get to you again. Come on, Tim, stay with me.” Can't here, can't see, only the thing inside trying to claw it's way back out, take over again. Your fault their fault unwanted, they abandoned you, it's only natural to make them pay, make you pay, watch the world burn, let's do it.

Look what they did to you.

“Look at me!”

Tim was gasping for air, suddenly seeing Peter again. He wasn't aware of the tears in his eyes. All that act, all those disgusting nights with endless streams of face, voices, praises but he wasn't beautiful. He was damned. Trying to claw his way out of hell.

Peter looked at him with eyes that mirrored his, his suffering, Tim's own pain, they all had suffered, had to so they could be together this way, but he, she told him he wasn't ready yet. When?

Peter leaned down and placed a tender kiss on his lips, breathing for a minute, “Something is coming your way, Tim, and it's nearly your time.”

Tim sat up legs bent behind him as he searched for meaning behind those words, Peter's rust coloured eyes gave nothing away, “I don't understand.”

“Thing's are going to change.”

Tim dipped his gaze, completely losing the mask and being that confused, over-analysing boy he once was, serious and curious all at once. Robin, not Robin. Peter smiled a little sad smile and began to fade from sight, his ghost hands still caressing Tim's face, “I hope for the better,” Tim said.

“We all do.”

Tim's head was ringing, and it was damn annoying as well as slightly painful. It took a whole lot of effort and will to just open his eyes with his whole body screaming at him for the abuse. Not the first time, he told himself, had worse happen to him on Batman's watch. And then he realized there was a possibility he wasn't alone. His eyes shot open and he lifted his head enough to give the surrounding area a quick scan around before dropping back to the ground, face first of course. He felt as if he got kicked in the head by a horse, which was a close enough comparison given how hard he was hit. Fortunately it seemed like the Blight Hounds didn't seem to make it through or were dropped off elsewhere, hopefully somewhere far away, like a different dimension. He was about to seduce and kill a young man who would later become a gang leader as he'd been told by Oriviane, one of the oracles. Though it had nothing to do with Tim or the wraiths what his destiny would have been, his name was listed. He would die sooner or later. It would have just been another night of ending someone's life with pleasure until they were suddenly ambushed by those damned monsters. Ambushes weren't all that unusual though it served to be a pain in the ass having to kill his targets before they ran off. Tim was always prepared for these moments and it wouldn't have been a problem if his psyche as well as his powers didn't decide to fluctuate right at that moment. It earned him a swat to the face from one of their malformed paws, and they were strong, if not smart.

“Damn, I hope they didn't scratch me,” Tim grunted, as his fingers came away wet with blood.

He glanced at his surroundings, a thick but not unruly gathering of trees blocked much of Tim's field of vision like a forest, preventing him from seeing too much farther, but he could hear a the low drone of activity, human activity just beyond the edge of the spot where he stood. Tim followed the sounds, noting how oddly neat these trees were spaced almost as if...he reached the end to find wide open spaces filled with people either picnicking, strolling or playing, and beyond that was a city. Its buildings jutting up unpleasantly over the foliage. His portal navigation had landed him in the middle of a park in god knows where, again. In fairness, it was a stressful moment, trying to open up a door while fending of mutant mutts and no doubt, they must've been scattered over other realms. He really needed to get the hang of this before it sent him into somewhere much more unpleasant.

Strangely, as he kept passing through the thick growth of trees he could hear the sounds of civilization cars and voices, not too far away and as it turned out, he’d reached the edge of what turned out to be a reserved patch of forest. Now he was staring from under the shade, normal civilians passing by going about their business. At least he was sure he wasn’t on some god-forsaken hell. He was about to move forward when a sudden explosion erupted about fifty meters away. He flinched back into the cover and watched intently. Through the throngs of screaming people, a figure emerged from the wreckage, large and imposing and an awfully familiar at that. It was Bane. Still duped up on Venom.

“Come out you spineless cowards, come out and face Bane!”

Good lord he was obnoxious as ever. Watching him thrash about like a child throwing a tantrum was almost comical. He took out a substantial chunk of the cement ground throwing it about, thankfully most of the crowds had retreated but he was posing a serious threat to bystanders. For now, it seemed that the only damage he was intent on doing was to the surrounding inanimate objects, smashing to be exact, unimpressive really. Then the drugged up criminal fixes his gaze on some unfortunate man on his way to work. Tim grinned. Perfect, he had some stress to work off. Just when he had taken a step out, suddenly Bane was ambushed. Teenagers sporting colourful sets of powers and abilities. One of them, a green skinned boy morphed into a bull charging Bane relentlessly and recklessly. A young blond woman with a bow joined in, notching and releasing arrows effortlessly with near perfect aim. The flashy one dashed in to deliver a series of, flimsy punches. When it comes to Bane, nothing short of a strong punch will affect him, but somehow, Tim could feel that was merely to add to the distraction, just as predictable in his technique as always, no matter what version of him was out there. Smart but predictable. Now he could never understand why Bruce found him challenging Tim stopped, his gaze snapping aside. Something bigger was coming his way.

As soon as the thought passed, a large black and blue jean mass came flying in, crashing into Bane with a loud thump and crack that definitely was the sound of a few broken bones. The villain was sent flying back from the impact while the recent addition to the fray watched with a triumphant expression, back straight, floating in the air with the symbol on his chest on display. A Super. The sight of the S brought memories, slamming back into Tim.

“Hey Broody.”

Kon smiling as he hovered over him making terrible jokes about his height, his personality being not as colourful as his costume. Fighting together with their teammates against extraterrestrial terrorists.

“You know he doesn’t mean that.”

Kon comforting him over his arguments and fights with Bruce and Jason. Hearing Kon’s voice beg him to come home again and again until he couldn’t hear him any more. And when he finally opened his eyes, he was holding Kon’s head in his bloody hands. Tim doubled over gagging, holding himself steady grasping a thorny vine that grew along the trunk of the tree, his hand so tight around it the thorns pierced skin and blood ran down his palm and the vine.

“Damn it, not now, keep it together...” he fought to keep the memories suppressed. Just then a giant crash spooked him out of the lapse and he looked up in time to see a huge Gorilla in a stupid hat flattening down everything In its way, with a machine gun to match. Following behind were what looked like a few hired goons, of course, why not. Bane always made sure to be stocked up on henchmen and backup. This was however turning into a bit of a joke and Tim was getting bored of watching.

“Robin!” A slight figure leaped out of nowhere at the command, unleashing a whole arsenal of batarangs and smoke pellets. The flying pieces of metal successfully took down a portion of the goons while the pellets burst, enveloping the area in thick smoke. No one can see through it accept for Superboy but they had definitely planned this enough not to require visibility. Tim’s suspicions were confirmed when the green shapeshifter charged right into the smoke, audibly knocking out more of the hired guns, both Robin and the archer jointly disabled the remaining men caught in the smoke. Bane could be heard roaring over the commotion, Gorilla sniffed and grunted. Suddenly, Superboy and a girl with a familiar symbol dived in, tackling the two. The team’s hard hitters best suited for tanks like Bane and the Gorilla. Tim guessed they must be this world’s Teen Titans, which meant he had to be careful who he came in contact with. After a whole load of punching and kicking, the two villains were finally down, disappointingly enough, how boring. They began discussing something together possibly about whatever mission they were on while the blond with the lasso and the speedster began tying everyone up. Just then the  farthest man lying just a meter of where Tim was hiding got up and started sprinting off into the woods. Tim watched the man as he made his escape into the darkness, soon noticed to be by the teens, his lips stretched into a sinister grin. He sat back on his haunches, preparing for the chase.

“Let the hunt begin.”

“We have a runner,” Nightwing sounded slightly fed up, his tone coloured with annoyance as he watched the last of Bane’s hired gun run of to the woods. No one could blame him, since it’s been a long day and no doubt, going to be a long night for him in Bludhaven, the wicked never sleep. So the team started off after him as the heavy hands came to take the criminals away for locking up. Kid Flash was definitely the fastest but not the brightest, and in an environment like a forest, odds were that he’d trip up or spend the whole day searching high and low for the man, so it was a good thing he wasn’t here or he’d run off not knowing where he was going or running into. Beast Boy had the right idea though, as a hound, he had the escaper’s scent. So they followed him into the thick growth. Finding him was actually harder than they thought, he had no tracker so all they could really rely upon was Superboy’s senses and Beast Boy’s ability to track as an animal, even then Connor couldn’t see past all the trees with his vision and Garfield lost his scent a few times.

“He must be in the deepest part of the forest by now,” Artemis said.

“Keep searching, if he’s going back to base this could mean finding the ones responsible for the meta-trafficking,” Nightwing ordered.

“He could be headed towards the docks, it’s the quickest and closest way out,” Robin said, it made sense and Nightwing agreed, it was the only other place that anyone could find a way to get off the island. As they got nearer to the docks, Superboy stopped all of a sudden, his teammates stopped as well.

“Superboy, what’s wrong, is-” Wondergirl began to say when he shushed her, his ears picking up whimpers and sobs and some frantic words that were to muffled for him to hear properly. But he could tell which direction.

“Over there,” he said, facing in the direction of the sound just off to the side to where the docks were, .

They followed Conner to what looked like the deepest part of the forest when he faltered and bent over looking shaken.

“What’s wrong,” Nightwing asked, checking him over with concern.

“Someone screamed and it wasn’t any scream, I mean a real scream,” Connor looked up and around, panicked, “I can’t hear him anymore.”

With this disturbing reveal, Nightwing and Robin both took off in that direction, with the others following after Superboy had recovered. Beast Boy was in the lead again, with the scent strong this time and they ventured on before Garfield started yelping, then, the smell hit them hard, the smell of blood and urine.

“Oh my god,” Artemis let out a hoarse whisper.

Everyone stopped, their mouths hanging open in shock. The corpse lying before them was definitely their runner, but he wasn’t going to be answering questions or going anywhere but the morgue. His limbs stuck out at odd angles like he was flailing about so much they were arranged haphazardly, his uniform was ripped open and so was his throat. The chest area bore several gashes. Right arm ripped off and legs punctured. He looked like he’d been mauled by a savage animal except, no animal can make such clean cuts as the ones on his chest, the claws must have been thin, needle like. His mouth hung agape with terror and he must have been scared enough to wet himself with the darkened patch on his pants mixing with the blood that was now seeping in, staining the grey a darker shade.

“Wha- who could have done this?!” Cassie gasped. Nightwing took a tentative step forward, he’d seen bad things in Gotham but never something like this here. Something had made it’s way on the island. He looked back to see Robin had also followed his movement but he seemed to be on the verge of getting sick, he was too young to witness something like this. Nightwing didn’t want to baby him. Working as Robin alongside Batman meant being in the middle of things like this but still...he glanced back at the body. This was too horrible.

“You guys, go back to HQ, call Batman, tell him we’ve got an issue, possibly something worse than the crisis at hand,” he ordered the rest of the team, “Robin, look at me, I know it’s going to be hard but go back with them, take the rest of the day off.”

“But I-.”

“Listen to me, Tim, I’m not putting you off missions because I think you’re not up for it, but I’ve had something like this happen before and it isn’t something you can just shake off, take it from a guy who tried winging it,” Dick gave him a wry smile, “Go home you earned it.”

“Can’t I just stay at HQ, keep me in the loop?”

Both Nightwing and Robin looked at the tattered remains, “I don’t think it’s exactly safe there right now.”

A/N: I’m mostly caught up on Ao3 if you want to read the rest without waiting for me to post it up on tumblr it’s here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341468/chapters/30542415