#hes trying to hold everyone together

[wolfjackle-creates]

Something Next to Normal

Tim's having a regular day at school when a classmate ropes him into helping with the school play as the light technician. Tim agrees to one rehearsal, but his responsibilities as Robin keep him so busy. He knows he'll have to turn down the position. Then he learns what Next to Normal is about. Tim absolutely cannot do this. --- Alfred is proud of Tim for taking on an extracurricular. The boy spends so much time alone. Having an excuse to spend time with other students his age can only be good for him. He wants to go see the show, but Tim counsels against it. After looking it up, Alfred spends a night in sleepless grief. But when day comes and he's face-to-face with Tim, he realizes the living boy in front of him needs him and something has to change.

This fic is inspired by a conversation I had with @yaderyngoch that you can find here.

Next to Normal is a super emotional musical that deals with surviving after grief. And the themes fit so well with Tim's early tenure as Robin that once the connection had been made, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Within hours, I was asking yaderyngoch if they minded if I started writing. A month later, this is what came of it.

Thanks to @greensword101 and @flipwizardstarlight for helping beta!

I plan to release chapter two in about a week.

Chapter 1 word count: 5,969

Content Warning: Bruce doesn't take a parental role towards Tim. And, at this point, he's not being a very good mentor either. He's too caught up in his own grief. The comfort will come up in chapter two.

-----

“Tim, Tim! There you are!”

Tim turned to see Alex, a senior in the journalism and drama clubs, waving a hand above his head and running towards him down the school hallway. “Hey, Alex. What’s wrong?”

Alex stopped right in front of him and bent over panting. He held one finger up, silently asking Tim to wait a moment. Finally, still somewhat breathless, he said, “We found out last night that my dad got a major promotion at work.”

“That’s awesome, congrats!” said Tim.

But Alex shook his head. “They want him to start immediately. Job’s out in California so we’ll have to move.”

Tim grimaced in sympathy. “Dude, that sucks. When will you be moving?”

“End of the week. But look, we need your help.”

Tim cocked his head. He wasn't really that close to Alex, though they were friendly. “How can I help? I assume your dad’s company will be providing movers and stuff.”

Alex waved him off. “Not like that. I mean with the musical! Performances are happening in a month and I’m in charge of lighting. You’re literally the only person in the whole school who I think could learn everything in time.”

Tim bit his lip. He was already falling behind on his homework due to his Robin responsibilities. “I don’t know, I’m really busy right now…”

“Please, Tim,” begged Alex. “Just come to today’s rehearsal. It’s right after class. Give it a shot, and if you hate it, I’ll figure something else out. But please, one rehearsal.”

Tim hesitated a moment longer, but the pleading in Alex’s eyes got to him. He never could help being useful. “Okay, one rehearsal.”

---

The moment Tim entered the auditorium, Alex waved to him. “Tim! You made it, awesome. Come on, let me introduce you to Mrs. V.”

Before Tim could do more than say, “Hi,” back, Alex grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the front of the auditorium.

“Mrs. V! This is Tim.”

Tim smiled up at the woman and held out his hand just as his mother had taught him. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Ma’am.”

She looked to be in her late thirties and had bushy black hair and dark eyes. She cocked her head at him, but shook his hand. “You look awfully young to be in high school, Tim. Will your parents mind you staying late?”

“I skipped a grade,” said Tim, brushing past the question like he always did. Starting high school at barely thirteen was unusual enough, and he was small for his age. “And I’ll be talking it over with them tonight to see if I can make it work.” An utter lie, of course. Tim’s parents wouldn’t be home for a few weeks yet. But they made a good excuse. “I’ll be able to let you know tomorrow for sure.”

“And, Alex, you really think he’ll be able to learn everything?”

Alex was nodding before she’d even finished speaking. “Yep. He might be a freshman, and a young one at that, but he’s brilliant. He was in the journalism club in middle school, right?” Alex waited for Mrs. V to nod before continuing. “So their teacher brought them to the high school to get a look at our recording studio here. Tim figured out the equipment in, like, ten minutes. To the point where he was correcting Dave last year’s president of the high school club. We’ve integrated nearly all of his suggestions into our broadcasts this year.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked at Tim with much more interest. “Then I hope your parents let you join us,” she said.

Tim didn’t let his expression slip and wondered what his parents would say if he ever bothered to ask their permission. Oh, who was he kidding? They wouldn’t care so long as it didn’t interfere with his school image.

“As I’m sure you’ve heard, I’m Mrs. Vasilakis, but most students just call me Mrs. V. Today we’ll be doing a run through of the show from top to bottom with scripts in hand so Alex can show you what he does and you can get used to the show. We’re doing Next to Normal, are you familiar with it?”

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know many musicals, I’m sorry.”

She waved him off. “Well, I hope we can get you interested. Alex, I can give you twenty minutes to show him the controls while I corral this group and get them warmed up.”

“Thanks, Mrs. V! Come on, Tim. You can toss your backpack down on any empty seat.”

Tim did as instructed and followed Alex to the back of the auditorium.

Alex led him to a small door with a “Do Not Enter” sign hung on it. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door. “Mrs. V lets me keep the key, though she might want you to get it from her every time. I guess they had issues a few years back with people sneaking up here. Something was stolen or broken or something and since then admin refuses to allow students open access.”

Tim nodded his understanding, but a glance at the lock proved it was as cheap as they came. He didn’t know how it worked to actually keep anyone out.

The door led to a narrow stairway and at the top was a room just large enough for the lights, their controls, and two chairs. Alex sat in one and gestured Tim to the other.

“Home, sweet, home,” said Alex grinning. “So, you ever seen any of this stuff before?”

“Some of it,” admitted Tim. Enough of the Gotham rogues had a flare for the dramatics that he’d seen some weird light shows, even if he hadn’t been on the job that long yet. “But I’ve never been in charge of it.”

“Still better than I could say when I started. We’ve tried to keep things labeled pretty clearly so that helps. These dials are the over head lights, these are over stage lights, spotlights. The set up here is pretty good for a high school, but we’re still limited in what we can do. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a professionally performed play or musical, but don’t worry. We won’t be doing anything nearly so fancy.”

“I haven’t, actually,” commented Tim. He thought he had it all figured out, but it would be good to see everything in action. “I think my mom likes plays, but I’ve never gone with her. I think she is afraid I’d struggle sitting quietly for that long.”

“Would you?”

Tim laughed. “Probably a year or two ago. I’d be good now. But back on topic, what’s most important?”

“Right, yeah. Of course that’s what you want to know. Basically make sure anyone who is speaking has a light on them. And that anyone who is on stage can be seen, even if they’re in shadow. This show isn’t the worst, but there are a few moments where multiple characters are singing in contrast to each other. And if we can show the space between them while still lighting them, it’d be great.”

“I… what?” Tim had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

Alex grimaced. “I suppose that doesn’t make sense—“

A loud piercing whistle sounded from below them.

“Well, you’ll see when we get into it. Just watch what I do, yeah?”

Tim shrugged again. “Sure. I’m good at learning on my feet.”

Alex grinned. “It’s why I’m begging you to do this!” He watched the stage a minute and nodded to himself. “Okay, we’re gonna lower all the lights. You always start in dark. This is how we do that.”

Tim watched intently, taking even more notes, as Alex deftly adjusted dials until everything sat in darkness.

Then Alex turned on a spotlight, showing a boy a girl—playing a mother and son—arguing before the boy stormed out of the house. Then the girl started singing about her family. When she reached the line about her daughter, “And my daughter though a genius is a freak,” another spotlight turned on and Tim watched as Alex pointed it at a different girl sitting at a table with a textbook and papers spread in front of her.

He cringed when he heard the mom character say, “I’m going to have sex with your father,” and decided he didn’t really care about the story. Instead he focused on following Alex’s actions. The daughter took over the song, so Alex turned off the light on the mother.

Soon enough, four actors were on stage, trading off lines as they sung about it being “just another day.” And Tim understood what Alex was doing. Each had a spotlight on them, but the shadows were deep between the characters because they didn’t seem to like each other very much, even if they were a family.

Soon it was hard to even follow the words with everyone singing together. Tim really didn’t think he was going to like the show. He had his own struggles with his family and with Bruce. He didn’t really want to watch a fictional family’s struggles.

Whatever, he didn’t have to enjoy himself today.

So he tuned it out. He focused on how Alex played with the lights to make sure everything could be seen. He watched the difference between solos and ensemble moments. When spotlights were used versus lighting the whole stage.

Despite Tim’s best attempts, he couldn’t help but learn about the family. The daughter, Natalie, was the character he liked the most. The son, Gabe, was just an asshole. The dad, Dan, was trying to hold everything together and failing miserably. And the mom, Diana, was falling apart as badly as Bruce and they couldn’t seem to find a good treatment for her.

But all of that was just background to the lighting techniques he was learning. Then when Diana came out with a birthday cake for Gabe, Dan had to take her to the side and remind her that “he’s been dead, sixteen years,” and Tim stopped breathing.

”He’s not here.” echoed in Tim’s ears.

His blood ran cold, and he stared at the stage is shock. The reveal had been a complete surprise, but suddenly so much about the show made sense. And yet all Tim could think of was Bruce, still clinging to the memory of Jason, putting himself—and all of Gotham—at risk in the process.

“You all right?” whispered Alex.

“Huh?” Tim shook his head to reorient himself. His heart was beating too fast. Why was he reacting so strongly? But all he could hear were the words, “He’s not here,” repeating in his mind. Tim forced a smile just as his mother had taught him, though. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Just didn’t expect that.”

Alex laughed even as the music turned more upbeat, the tone jarring compared to the one before. He turned the lights up to match the new tone. “One of the best twists in a musical in my opinion. Forgot you wouldn’t know to expect it.”

Tim just hummed as Diana took center stage again. Her words, “Do you know what it’s like to die alive,” made him cross his arms and clench his fists around his shirt. Why was it that despite the actors in front of him, all he could see was Bruce throwing himself into fight after fight?

But Diana was worse than Bruce. She still had a daughter. One who was still a kid and relied on her. Didn’t she care? He forced himself to tune out her words and returned to taking notes on what Alex did.

He managed well enough until Natalie’s next song came on. Her first three lines went by, worming their way into his head until, “She’s not there,” made him stop.

All he could do was stare at the stage as the girl sang. Each line seemed to hit harder than the last.

“He’s immortal, forever alive. Then there’s me.”

The actress filled every line with a resigned desperation for something, anything, to be different. Tim’s breath froze in his chest. Was his heart still beating? He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, but somehow the words from the stage broke through even that.

“He’s your hero, forever your son. He’s not here. I am here.”

His eyes burned, and he bit his cheek to give himself something else to focus on.

Then Diana tried to comfort Natalie. “You know I love you. I love you as much as I can.”

Tim clenched his fists hard to hide their shaking even as Natalie threw her arms up in frustration on the stage. Why was he reacting so strongly? He wasn’t the same as Natalie. Bruce wasn’t his dad so it didn’t matter if Bruce couldn’t even look at him half the time. He had parents. They might not be home right now, but they loved him. They did.

He wasn’t Natalie.

“Please look closely and find her before she fades away!”

Tim barely heard the rest of the song. Was he breathing? He needed to breathe. He let out a shaky breath.

“Tim? You sure you’re good?”

He needed to focus. His mom would be so disappointed in him. He smiled, just like he’d learned to do for the galas he’d been forced to attend from the age of five. “Of course, Alex. Sorry. I just didn’t realize how good a singer Rose is.”

Alex grinned. “Yeah. She’s really good. Got the role of Natalie as a junior if you can believe it.” He paused speaking to adjust more lights. “Are you following what I’m doing?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Compartmentalize. Tim could do this. He’d been doing it for years. And he’d only gotten better at it since becoming Robin.

The next song, sung by Gabe again, made his heartbeat ratchet back up. Tim hated Gabe for reasons he couldn’t articulate even to himself. But hearing the ghost of the dead son sing about how he was alive as he danced around his mom, crowding her, had Tim biting his cheek so hard he tasted blood. He stopped, closed his eyes for two seconds, and focused again on what Alex was doing. On the way the lights followed Gabe as he haunted, taunted, the rest of his family in turn.

He’d get through this. He’d promised one rehearsal and that’s what he’d get through. Tomorrow he’d say he couldn’t do it.

Even as all the characters begged, “Catch me I’m falling,” Tim focused on just learning his job. When Dan and Diana blew off Natalie’s recital, he clenched his fist, but kept his breathing steady.

Alex didn’t ask if he was okay, just kept up a quiet stream of instructions.

Diana’s failed suicide, done at the behest of Gabe’s ghost, reminded him of all his nightmares of being too late and finding Bruce’s body broken and bloody one day when trying to follow him on patrol. The nightmares that always made him wake screaming.

Tim forced himself not to think of Alfred when Dan sang about standing with his “feet right on the ground” whenever Diana went off flying. He ignored the way Dan wished for someone to give him a lift. And if Tim’s breath caught when Dan sang his was “just a slower suicide,” it didn’t matter because Alex didn’t notice. He just focused on how Alex softened the lights to make the scene more melancholy.

Finally, after Diana agreed to ECT at Dan’s pleading, Alex turned the lights all the way down, then all the way back up.

“And this is the end of act one! What do you think so far?”

Tim swallowed and shrugged. “I didn’t realize they made musicals like this. Are they common?”

“This one was pretty groundbreaking when it came out. More recently, we’ve got Be More Chill and Dear Evan Hansen. But I’ll tell you a secret, I like this one way more.”

Tim hummed and looked over the lighting equipment. “It’s definitely intense. They’re doing a good job.”

“Yep. So for the real show, intermission will last about twenty minutes. Three minutes before curtain, you’ll want to dim the lights briefly to warn people to get back to their seats. Right now, Mrs. V is going to talk to the actors and give some pointers for a few minutes. Give everyone a chance to catch their breaths. Need the bathroom?”

Tim shook his head.

“Then what questions do you have for me?”

Over the next few minutes, Tim made sure to ask any question he could think of. By the time Mrs. V let out another whistle to call everyone to their places, Tim was pretty sure he could manage lighting for the rest of the show. Though when Alex took up the position, Tim didn’t fight him.

No reason to seem too eager when he wouldn’t be taking the project on.

The next act started and Tim tried to pay minimal attention to the musical. Though when the characters realized Diana had amnesia from the treatment and Dan decided the proper response was to just not mention their son, he couldn’t hold back a snort.

Amusement that died in his throat when Natalie revealed what life had actually been like for her. At least he couldn’t draw any parallels there. Neither his parents nor Bruce had been present enough in his childhood to screw his up the way Diana had screwed over Natalie’s.

When Diana finally remembered her son, Tim expected the breakdown.

He couldn’t help but feel for Natalie as she left the house again to get into trouble. Memories of nights spent in Gotham when he was way too young threatened to overtake him.

He managed to push through it and get himself back under control by focusing on Alex’s actions. He paid vague attention to the musical, too invested in the story to fully ignore it. But he directed most of his focus to Alex. So many of the songs started with one character before changing to another, so he’d have to learn them well enough to know when to switch the lights as each person took over.

Diana’s therapist begged her to stay a patient, to not give in to her depression. But it was clear she’d had enough. Would Bruce give up one day? Decide to stop fighting and let himself die?

Only…it turned out Diana wasn’t fully giving up on life. She apologized to Natalie who was clearly caught between finding it too little, too late and hope that this time might be real.

He couldn’t help the ache he felt when Natalie and Diana agreed that a life “next to normal” would work just fine for them.

Tim knew what it was like to strive for a normal life. One where his parents were home. One where he was told “good job” when he did well on a school assignment or finally figured out how to do that flip.

Maybe it was time to give up that dream, though. Be like Natalie and settle for something else. The thought made his eyes burn, but he pushed it aside.

Surely Diana didn’t have to leave just for everyone to find a way to heal? Wasn’t there a way for them to figure it out together?

But Diana left and everyone, even Gabe, seemed to find a measure of peace.

Then Alex turned the lights down again until the entire auditorium was in darkness once more.

Mrs. V began clapping and called out “Well done, everyone!”

Alex turned all the lights back on and leaned back in his chair as Mrs. V addressed the actors.

“So, any more questions for me?” asked Alex.

---

“How was your extracurricular, Master Tim?” asked Alfred when Tim slipped into the passenger seat.

Tim shrugged and pretended he wasn’t still shaking inside from the music. “It was all right. But I think I’ll have to tell Alex I can’t do it. Just so busy, you know?”

Alfred tutted. “If you want to do it, we can make the time. Master Dick had his gymnastics meets. And Master Ja—”

Alfred cut himself off and Tim looked out the window. So many conversations ended that way in the manor. But he remembered Dan’s song about needing someone to lift him up. “You can talk about him, you know. To me. If you need to.” Tim didn’t look at Alfred as he spoke, just continued staring out the window.

“Thank you, Master Tim.”

The rest of the car ride passed in silence as Natalie’s refrain, “I’m not here,” echoed in Tim’s head. He focused on keeping his breathing steady and his hands still. He was fine.

When they got to the manor, Tim took over his corner of the dining room table and pulled out his homework. Laptop set up on an angle to his left, papers on his right. Start with math because that was the easiest.

Only he couldn’t focus on the numbers at all. For possibly the first time in his life, they didn’t make sense.

Catch me I’m falling.

Tim grit his teeth and grabbed his headphones. Maybe if he just listened to the soundtrack again, the songs would get out of his head?

He started it from the beginning. His pencil tapped against his papers in time to the beat. When he got to Natalie’s song, even his pencil stilled as he stared unseeing at his homework.

Then Gabe started singing “I’m Alive!” and Tim grabbed his phone and jabbed the back button. He couldn’t. He couldn’t listen to that one.

Natalie singing about being invisible might cause his hands to shake and his heart to beat hard, but it was better. He stared at his phone, watching the lyrics pass by. When the final words appeared, he jabbed the single repeat button to make sure he wouldn’t be jump scared again by Jason’s, Gabe’s song.

He had no idea how many times he’d listened to “Superboy and the Invisible Girl” when Alfred cleared his throat behind him. “How is your homework going, Master Tim?”

Only his months of training kept him from jumping in his seat. He looked over his math and realized he’d only managed to get through two problems. “Going great, Alfred. What’s up?”

Alfred raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t call him out on his lie. “Dinner is nearly ready. Why don’t you put away your things and help me carry it out?”

“Of course! I’ll be right there. Just give me two minutes.”

Alfred smiled and clasped his shoulder. “Take your time. I’ll go inform Master Bruce.”

Tim nodded as he gathered up his papers and closed his laptop. Within moments, his things were neatly packed and his backpack hidden in the hallway closet.

Dinner at Wayne Manor was as awkward as they all were. Tim sat two seats away from Bruce and kept quiet. The first time he’d eaten here, Tim had tried to ask Bruce about his day, but Bruce merely stared at him for an entire minute before grunting and going back to his food. Tim hadn’t tried again.

He should’ve refused the ride home and taken the three buses and a cab that it took to get from Gotham to Bristol. Then he could’ve eaten in his own home. At least there it was silent because no one else was around rather than whatever this mess was.

Through it all, he could hear the echo of Natalie’s song. He felt invisible sitting there in complete silence.

With no conversation and all three of them focused on their plates, Tim finished eating within ten minutes.

“Would you like anything else, Master Tim?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Bruce grunted. “Then report to the cave. I need to debrief you before tonight’s patrol. And I want to evaluate where you are in your training.”

Tim jumped to his feet. “Of course. I’ll bring my dishes to the kitchen and head right down.”

The debrief was boring. Edward Nygma had escaped Arkham, so Bruce had Tim review several of his old riddles. Tim had kept up with those when they had happened and really didn’t learn anything new. The Riddler’s cases had always interested him the most.

Not that he said anything of course. From the direction of Jason’s memorial, he could hear the echo of the words, “I’m alive!”

If one thing could be said for training, it was that it required enough of his focus to drown out Jason’s voice. Bruce hit hard and fast and scolded whenever Tim wasn’t able to dodge. But it was fine. He was getting better.

To his surprise, when they finished, Bruce merely grunted at him and turned away to change into his suit. Tim must’ve done really well, and he bit back a smile. Usually they spent at least ten minutes going over everything Tim had done wrong.

Patrol itself started fine. They were looking for leads on Nygma, but in the meantime just stopped anything they came across. The euphoria of patrol chased away the echo of any songs that might have haunted him otherwise.

Everything was going fine. Until Tim saw a woman in scrubs getting cornered in an alley by three large men. He looked around, but Bruce was already two streets away. “Batman?” he asked over comms.

“Hurry up, Robin.”

Tim bit his lip and debated following, but then the woman began begging. “No, please. I promise I don’t have anything.”

“You’ve got a phone, don’t you?” asked one of the men as he took another step forward.

“And even if not, bet there’s something else we could get from you.”

Tim did not like the smile on the second speaker’s face. Mind made up, he shot his grappling hook and swung down, making sure to land on Asshole #2’s shoulder’s, knocking him to the ground.

“Pretty sure she said she’s got nothing for you. Why don’t you leave her alone?” He stood on the asshole’s back.

“Shit, it’s the kid!”

“Where’s the bat?”

“Get offa me!”

Tim jumped off #2’s back as the man pushed himself up. Dick’s acrobatic training meant he landed on his feet, and Shiva’s training had him pulling out his staff and extending it into the man’s stomach as he did.

While #2 was bent over trying to regain his breath, Tim swung it to the left to get the Asshole #1. The woman, meanwhile, pulled out a canister of pepper spray and got the third directly in his face.

Tim grinned at her. “Thanks, ma’am!”

“I should be thanking you, Robin. Glad to see you back out on the streets!”

The pepper spray victim collapsed to the ground and was scrubbing his face, leaving Tim with just two to take down. He managed to get both incapacitated quickly and zip-tied their hands behind their backs.

He was finishing with their ankles when he heard, “Robin,” from behind him.

Shit, that was definitely Bruce’s I’m-not-happy voice. Tim forced a grin and turned. “Hiya, B!” he said, just as he’d heard Dick or Jason do when they were in trouble on patrol. “You missed the fun.”

Only, unlike with Jason and Dick, Bruce’s jaw tightened and his hand clenched into a fist.

But he didn’t say anything. So Tim turned back to the woman. “Want me to escort you home? How much farther do you have?” He knew Bruce wouldn’t be happy with that, either, but he couldn’t just leave her.

“Just two blocks more. Would you mind?”

“Not at all!” Tim turned to Bruce, still grinning. “You can call this in, right? I’ll be right back!”

“Robin!” barked Bruce.

“Yeah?” Tim pretended to have no idea Bruce was upset. He was shaking inside, but he was Robin right now. And Robin was brave and bright, no matter how scary Batman was.

“You do not wander off.”

So Tim cocked his head. “Oh, you want to come, too? I’m sure that’ll make Ms…” he looked at the woman curiously.

“Emma,” she supplied.

“Ms. Emma feel even safer. Are the cops on their way for these three jerks?”

Batman grunted and Tim’s grin grew.

In a stage whisper, he told Emma, “That’s Batman’s ‘yes’ grunt. Let’s go. These three will hold until the police get here.”

Emma laughed and led the way down the street. “I’m gonna be the safest person in Gotham, then. Thanks, Robin, Batman.”

“So, Ms. Emma, do you work at the hospital nearby?”

“Yep. I’m a night shift nurse. Usually I drive to and from, but my car’s in the shop. And I’m only a twenty minute walk from work. Thought I could risk it for one day.”

Tim nodded. “That’s how they get you.”

Emma laughed and ruffled his hair. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll just wait until one of my coworkers can give me a ride home tomorrow.”

“How much longer until your car is ready?”

Emma sighed. “I don’t get paid until Friday. Then I can authorize the work to start.”

Tim hummed in sympathy, but was already making plans to track down Emma’s name and figure out which mechanic she used. Surely it’d make sense for Robin and Batman to pay her bill after helping her out. And a bit extra to move it to the top of the line.

Tim asked Emma about her work and she regaled him with stories from a Gotham ER for the rest of the walk. Bruce stalked silently behind them.

When Emma stopped in front of an apartment complex, she turned to face Tim. “Thanks for walking me home, Robin.”

“Anytime, Ms. Emma.”

She leaned down and hugged him tightly. Tim’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden warmth. His heart beat hard in his chest and he could feel every point of contact like it burned. Just as he realized he should lift his arms and hug her back, though, she was pulling away.

“Good night, Robin! And you, Batman.”

Bruce just grunted, and Tim wanted to roll his eyes. “Good night to you, too. Stay safe!”

“I will, thanks to you.” She waved as she unlocked the door and disappeared inside.

“Batmobile, now.”

Tim bit back a sigh. “Of course, Batman,” he said. He didn’t bother pretending to be cheerful now that they didn’t have an audience.

Bruce spun and shot his grappling hook, swinging away. Tim followed on his heels. Tim knew he was in for a scolding, but didn’t dare dally on the trip over.

When he got to the alley, Bruce was waiting next to the driver’s side door. He grunted and gestured for Tim to get in.

Tim’s hand didn’t shake as he opened the door, but his stomach felt like lead, and he knew it was only long practice at hiding his nerves that kept it steady. Bruce slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out.

Even with his gloves on, Tim could tell Bruce was gripping the steering wheel as tightly as possible. And his jaw was clenched shut in displeasure. Tim bit his lip, unable to break the silence that settled in the car.

Silence that stretched for long minutes. Tim began to hope he’d be able to avoid the lecture he knew was brewing.

Then Bruce opened his mouth. “What was that?” His voice was cold and hard.

“What? Saving a woman?” Tim pretended he wasn’t shaking inside.

Bruce practically growled at him. “You disappeared!”

Tim kept his back straight and kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. He would not react to the anger directed his way. Keep it straightforward and factual, like giving a report. “A woman was being harassed by three men. They didn’t even have a gun and you were a block and a half ahead already. I knew it’d be a quick intervention so I intervened.”

“You do not go off on your own, ever.”

“I had it handled, Batman—”

“I don’t care! You always ask for backup before entering into combat situations. What if one of them had a hidden gun?”

“I know how to fight against opponents with firearms.” Tim kept his voice steady no matter how much he wanted to shout back.

“You can’t keep running off, Jason!”

Both of them froze. Tim stared straight ahead, every muscle tense, just waiting for Bruce to say something else. The buildings raced past them as they rapidly approached the end of the street.

Only Bruce didn’t hit the breaks. And the building across the street was getting closer.

“Watch the road!” screamed Tim.

Bruce cursed and jerked the wheel, just barely managing to follow the turn of the road rather than slam into the building. Tim had to his arm to keep from banging his head against the side window as his seatbelt dug into his chest.

Once they were back on the road and traveling at a more reasonable speed, Bruce spoke again. “Tim—”

“Don’t.” Tim gripped his uniform over his heart. His throat was tight and his eyes burned and he couldn’t get that damn song out of his head. He wanted to collapse forward, rest his head between his knees and just breathe, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the road, terrified Bruce would get distracted again. “Just. Don’t.”

For once, Bruce listened. The rest of the ride to the cave passed in silence.

The moment the car pulled to a stop, Tim was out the door. He stomped over to the changing area and began stripping out of his uniform. He needed it off.

“Master Tim? Are you all right?”

“Fine, Alfred,” said Tim.

“What happened? Do I need to check you for injuries? Or Master Bruce?”

Tim grit his teeth, but shook his head. “We’re both just peachy.” Tim ripped off his under layer, stripping down to his boxers. “See?” He spun so Alfred could see he had no new injuries.

Alfred’s eyes narrowed as he took in Tim’s body. “Very well,” he said after a pause.

Tim grabbed a mostly clean shirt and pair of jeans from his locker and pulled them on. “I’m going home now.”

“Let me prepare you a small after patrol snack before you do,” said Alfred.

“Not hungry.” Tim’s stomach was still in knots. He could see the brick wall getting closer through the windshield and feel the jerk as Bruce had to turn too hard to keep them from crashing.

Alfred opened his mouth, but closed it again with a sigh and nodded. “Very well, Master Tim. Thank you for joining us for dinner tonight.”

Tim nodded his acknowledgment, though he regretted ever agreeing, and grabbed his skateboard out of his locker. He’d changed so quickly that Bruce was only now approaching the changing area himself. Tim straightened his back and looked Bruce in the eyes. “I will report to the cave at twenty-two hundred hours for tomorrow’s patrol.”

Then, before Bruce could do more than nod, he tossed down his board and jumped on. Twenty minutes later, he was in his own room at Drake manor and climbing into a shower, heat turned up so high it was almost scalding.

It still didn’t make him feel as warm as a stranger’s hug.

And finally, in the privacy of his own house, with three locked doors between himself and the world, Tim collapsed to his knees and cried.

---

Alex was waiting for him when he got off the bus at school the next morning.

“Hey, Tim! Have you made your decision yet?”

And Tim thought about leaving school and going back to an empty mansion with his parents who-knows-where or to Wayne Manor and another awkward dinner.

He opened his mouth to say he couldn’t, that he was too busy.

“Sure, Alex. I’d love to.”

-----

And that's chapter 1! Hope you enjoy!

Totally look up some of the songs from Next to Normal. They hit hard. Especially when imposed on the bats.

[pennielane]

GET BACK, PART III — Ringo doesn't talk much, but when he says he's not going abroad, they are not going abroad. And when he says "I wanna go on the roof", they're going on the roof. (x)

[sysig]

Family ♥ (Patreon)

[rcmclachlan]

Trademark: Top-tier Bucktommy writer + generally Cool + getting Buck pregnant

Thank you + thank you + thank you!

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

suf: shows the main character's trauma in full seriousness, with very real symptoms, they get the love and support they need at the end, actually starts seeing a therapist and leaves their home to start a new life

audience: boohoo this show is so dumb, it demonizes mental illnesses and solves everything with a hug

spop: shows the main character get into a relationship with their abuser, their character arc is left incomplete and all of their trauma is brushed under the rug

audience: omg such a good representation of trauma! this show is so mature!!

[calciumcryptid]

Decided my proposal for a We Are Series ghostship is Beer and Kleun. They could make a very chill couple.

[cashweasel]

Besties rendezvous 🤍

[tibli]

people really act like johndirk murdered their entire family or smth

[gaydogmarriage]

alhaitham is such a lying liar who lies dude. acting like he and the sumeru boys gang have always been besties since forever. "that's how it's always been with the four of us" - man who has barely spoken to most of these people before he decided to team up with them to overthrow the government and regularly skips social gatherings with them. yeah right buddy ok

[moe-broey]

IT IS SO IMPORTANT. To Always Remember that Alfonse IS also Líf. That they exist on a continuum. That Líf HAD to come from Somewhere. That Alfonse is Just As Capable of being a moody broody over-dramatic self-righteous cunt AND jackass. It is SO IMPORTANT to remember this

[chanagun]

I’ve connected the soundwin dots

[mokutone]

I am so entranced by ur style it's crayzay . . . I adore how you draw Sakura and Kakashi they're so silly goofy

thank youuu!!!!!! :^D i love drawing them, especially interacting together, i think there's SUCH a wealth of possibility that kishimoto failed to exploit in his storytelling that could lead to detailing parallels between the two of them—and woudln't it be a bit fitting if she ends up being, in many ways, the one most like kakashi? the one left behind?

[deargravity]

i don’t want hajun to be mysterious, beautiful and elusive. i want him to see his messy, fractured moments. no more bare minimum details. i need to be acquainted with visceral details of his childhood.

give me 13 year old hajun in japan, alone and confused and still convinced that this whole thing is a ruse and his parents will come get him eventually. i need 14 year old hajun still clinging onto the hope that if he’s good enough and proves himself his parents will take him back. i want 15 year old hajun disabused of all his faith in his parents and realising home is nowhere now, and he is fundamentally unwantable unless he learns to wear the right masks and say the right things. little hajun who had to figure everything out by himself, while knowing his existence made no difference to his parents back home anyway. now it’s his life and the only person to whom it matters is himself.

i wonder if he had a phase where his anger was just like dongha’s — wet, guttural, thrashing, amorphous. when exactly did it take shape into the cold, sharp thing it is today? i want him slowly getting sick of breaking his own heart with his own wanting. i want him meeting allen and experiencing the terror of caring for someone for the first time. i want him falling back on the “vengeance on my parents” narrative because he can’t admit to himself that allen and anne appeared in his life at a time when his walls weren’t fully up yet and now they’re here to stay after he’s so carefully built himself up to avoid abandonment by avoiding intimacy altogether. i want to see him growing up and retreating slowly further and further into himself the more he realises he won’t be able to survive losing allen and anne, i want him disgusted by his own wanting and uncomfortable with himself but so distanced from his own feelings that the only way he can process / experience anything close to it is by antagonising others to create congruent reactions within them just so he knows what it’s like to feel something.

i want him alone in his room and suddenly so crushed by emotion but incapable of identifying them because he never grew up with the tools to define his own experience. maybe that’s also why making music with bae matters to him (since their theme revolves around taking charge of your own narrative). he built himself a sense of self from scratch and still he couldn’t outgrow his childhood fear of being unwanted. yeah he’s sadistic and callous and morally dubious, but he wasn’t born that way. i am asking once again i need the visceral detail. the guts of it. but i may be crazy.

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

More Pokémon Horizons Episode 25 spoilers under the cut!

As much as I laughed from how this played out like an unintentionally comedic moment---can I mention how much this actually does to separate Amethio from the rest of the Explorers; how he's actually honorable and respects Friede as a rival of sorts?

The rest of the Explorers tend to use underhanded tricks to get what they want (Spinel brainwashing Liko and attempting to wipe her memory, Onyx and Sango trying to overwhelm the others against direct orders whilst causing the destruction of everything else around them), but Amethio has been unique in how he's regarded as 'by the books' (by Friede) and constantly tries to be on equal footing with his opponent- even if it means putting himself at the disadvantage when he has more resources to utilize.

He could've very easily overwhelmed Friede by having both of his mons attack at once (given how Captain Pikachu hadn't arrived yet)---and yet he- doesn't. Which is just so interesting to me as he's meant to have a similar goal as the rest of the Explorers (which is to retrieve the pendant/Terapagos by any means necessary).

So in this case, was it really a matter of defeating Friede so that he could easily confront Liko afterwards,,, or,,,,, was he trying to prove himself somehow? 👀✨✨✨

[vaguely-annoyed]

well well well, if it isn't the feelings i said weren't that deep

[callmewishful]

I interrupt my regularly scheduled posting to bring you: Eastern Faerghan Dilfs and their Kids - Road-trip Edition