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heartless-error · 4 years

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Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 12

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating/Tags: Family feels, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, running away, childhood crushes, brotherly love

Other(s) links: AO3

Broken.

The Batfamily was broken.

It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.

Damian was sure there was nothing to save, not after losing something that he didn’t know he cared about. But when a new opportunity to get back what they had lost appeared, he cannot help to doubt as his past decisions haunt him again.

If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Chapter Summary: Gotham people were rough and rude, but also kind and patient. Just like the city, they were shaped by darkness and courage. They protected what they loved and who they loved with ferocity and strength, without restraints. Damian wasn’t purely from Gotham, but was protected in its way, and Jason Todd not only made him see that, but made sure Jon would love his little brother the same way. The Gotham way.

Chapter 12

Seven years ago

Gotham had a certain… charm.

A unique and special one that characterized it and it was quite difficult to discern, much more openly recognize it. However, once you looked beyond the high crime and corruption rates, the alarming number of villains or rogues in disguises that continually threaten people's lives, and that unstable climate that sometimes gave rise to clouds and fog that gave the city a gloomy and macabre appearance, you could realize the hidden beauty that the site harbored.

It wasn’t found in dirty alleyways that smelled bad and were home to stray cats or rats, nor in parks conveniently unguarded by nights, or in the ports where the toxic waste was dumped, not even in the gargoyles located on the heights that seemed to act as unbreakable guardians of the city.

No. It was in the people.

Gotham’s people were tough, sullen, and tenacious, just like the city itself. They had been born into it, and the place had forcefully taught them to be resistant and obstinate to live under its darkness and harshness. The insight and perseverance they possessed was proof of their determination and effort, one that could only be obtained when you lived and loved a place like this.

Still, despite such rudeness on their part, the vast majority possessed within themselves a kindness and a kind heart that not only survived in the darkness of the city but adapted to it with everything it could. Many sought to do good in their own way regardless of what it involved, see vigilantes or others in the simplest and most imperceptible way, some kept smiling despite everything, and all of them stayed on their feet despite the fact that the place was cruel to its own people. It was difficult to explain, sometimes even to see, but it was as if the city itself was aware of its own danger and forced its citizens to adapt to it for their own good. In this way, the love-hate that characterized the place was beautiful in its own way, although somewhat twisted.

Gotham could be dark and cruel, but also kind and patient. The insane madness of some contrasted with the strong will of others, and much as everything fell apart, they always did their best to get up and move on. Dark, yes, but also strong, determined, and unwavering.

After living in Metropolis for a few years, Jonathan was very used to hearing not very pleasant things from the rival city. However, Superboy had patrolled among it enough not only to appreciate the strength it possessed, but to realize that antipathy that the people of Metropolis criticized, was nothing more than a stealth and kindness covered of prudence and a very usual aversion on the part of the gothamites. Maybe if he thought about it, there might have been real antipathy of many after the Gotham Knights lost to the Metropolis Meteors in the final game, but that was far from the principal issue.

Now, despite Jon still having a hard time making out the difference between that inherent caution they had acquired after living on the same streets as the Joker or plain antipathy, he was quietly observing the city while he waited for his patrol partner to arrive.

The lights that lit up Gotham that night was pretty decent, it didn't look as dark as usual and the humid and worrying smell of the place was not so intense this time. Jonathan was on the lookout for any alarming or troubling sounds reaching his ears as he swung his legs in the void, sitting on the edge of one of the rooftops that had become a meeting point when patrolling with Robin.

He might as well have gone straight to find him at the cave, or at the manor, but Damian had been involved in another case and asked him to wait for him.

So there he was, sitting there, waiting, trying not to break Batman rules too much by being there unsupervised, and still pondering on that admirable need so fierce and innate that the pure gothamites felt to protect their city, when they heard him arrive.

Damian was not purely from Gotham; it was a fact. Jon had realized that his attitude and personality were quite similar to the city itself, since his friend was tough, direct, but kind too, cautious in his progress, but patient in his own way. However, he had not been born there, had been raised in a more hostile and crueler environment, and no matter how long he had been living there and learning from his family. Although his effort, will, and affinity had brought him closer to being a gothamite, he was not completely one. That was not bad, far from it, Jon didn’t consider himself from Metropolis entirely, would be too much. But if he had to put some perfect example on who belonged to Gotham to the core and it showed, it was definitely Jason Todd, Red Hood.

Who had gone straight to the roof he was on and, after landing behind him, was approaching him at a safe pace, without hesitation.

Jon liked Damian. How could he not? He was cool, amazing in many ways, he was even proud to call him friend. Really, he liked him, he even dared to say that he loved him, in that special, sincere, and vehement way that only a best friend could do… Supposedly.

The thing is, sometimes his family, the bats, were too indecipherable even for him.

Red Hood was a complicated case, sure not just for himself. And not precisely because the elder would have done something to him or behaved badly with him, well, quite the contrary. He liked him, maybe too much, or more than he seemed allowed.

Red Hood and the Outlaws always seemed to be a separate case for many in the hero community, mostly because of the uncomfortable tensions or conflicts that old family or friendship relationships had supposed about their members. But Jon didn’t know much either, he didn’t have to do it because it wasn’t his business, and most of the conflicts that took place, he didn’t witness, since he was neither old enough to do it nor he wasn’t even born, therefore, it was not his problem or the place to get into. Also, he was twelve years old, neither could comment on anything. All he knew about Jason before met him or talked to him was that he died, he came back, he wasn’t on good terms with much of the batfamily, and for some reason Kon had a very strong resentment towards him.

But for his part, he couldn’t dislike him. Most of the time he ran into Red Hood it was on a mission, when a disaster was too big to deny the Outlaws’ help, or when he appeared during his patrol with Robin to bother for a while and then leave, sometimes even accompanied by Red Robin. The man always exuded that same dangerous but controlled aura that shouted “Gotham” everywhere and had always felt when he stepped on the place the first few times he showed up there on patrol with Robin. But in turn, he had never been a danger or a threat, and beyond treating him with playful irony, he hadn’t done nothing.

At the same time, Damian trusted him, Tim too. With the passing years, he had noticed how everyone had gotten closer and how their interactions were less scathing and softer, though he couldn’t say the same for the other bats. But from what he had seen and understood, Tim worked more with Jason than anyone currently in Gotham, and if there was one thing that had been made clear to him from all the stories he had heard, it was that Tim’s judgment -as unique and strange as it seemed- it was always pretty right. As for Damian, he trusted him more than anyone in the world, and he knew he saw the red team frequently. He almost always ended up in quite a good mood and Jon understood what it was like to get along with an older brother, also how much it had cost his friend to get to that point with them, so he was very proud and happy for the three of them, although he didn’t understand how fighting with his fists over the last slice of pizza could be described as brotherly affection, but who was he to question how bats showed love?

The case is that as a result of everything else, he decided to ignore his father’s anxiety (again), Batman’s paranoia, and Kon’s jealousy (Yes Conner, I know you’re jealous even if you don’t want to admit it), to trust that Red Hood was not as bad as they had made him think.

Indeed, he wasn’t, he isn’t, he hadn’t failed him so far, and he doubted he would. Like a good gothamite and Damian’s older brother, at first glance Jason was harsh, ironic and somewhat dangerous, but he had a soft spot for children that made him treat them better than to humanity in general, and Jon was the best friend of his little brother, whom he protected when there was some imminent danger. He also worked with Tim and was sure that the third Robin had told him about his tutoring for school, so he supposed there was no way the man had anything against him to start and vice versa.

So, Jonathan didn’t care much about the concern of others about his short encounters with the guy in the red helmet or the strange friendship he had with him, except when they pointed it out as an act motivated by his “innocence”. He was twelve years old, yes, but he believed that he had lived through enough things not to be so naive as everyone wanted to assume.

Also, how could he say no to free food?

“Hey. Superbrat.” Jason snapped as he reached him, swinging the bag of Chinese food in the process. They both knew he had heard him come from far away.

“Hi Jason.” He greeted back and turning to give him a slight smile.

“Tsk. Names in the field.” He replied with exasperation, although he didn’t even seem really upset, his tone lacked angry and seemed more affectionate than anything else.

“Sorry.” He answered with fun, all bats always responded the same. “Hi Hood.”

The other seemed more satisfied with his other attempt, bet he might been smiling, but there wasn’t a way to be sure. Instead of questioning it, he simply looked as the older got closer to him, put the bag of takeaway between them and sat on the roof ledge as well.

“Hi kid.” He greeted him again. “What are you doing here alone? Does the Big-Bat let you wander around the city as freely as you want now?”

Jon almost rolled his eyes wearily. Batman was still somewhat strict about his “no metas in my city” rule despite how effective his association with Damian had proven to be. He had permission to be there, as long as he was accompanied by Robin or another bat. It was ridiculous.

“No.” He denied it. “I’m waiting for Robin.”

“That already makes more sense.” Hood nodded settling where he had sat and taking out a pack of cigarettes. “Where’s he doing?”

“He’s on other business, he told me to meet him here.”

“And he leaves you here alone and waiting?" He exclaimed wryly as he also took a lighter. “What a bad way to treat a date.”

Jon could have answered or continued with what he knew it was a joke, but his brain didn’t seem to register it on time and finished choking on a babble nervous as he felt his face begin to burn with embarrassment.

He knew Jason was joking, of course he was, most of what that man was saying out of his mouth were taunts, sarcasm and inappropriate jokes that shouldn’t be taken seriously most of the time, more about them, who were younger than him. Hood really liked to tease Dami and him, bite and bother them in that unbearable way that only an older brother or a cool uncle could do. But hearing him hint that he could be Damian’s date, that he and Damian could have a date, that Damian could ask him for a date... imagining it made his heart jump and his breathing inevitably catch.

It was weird, he didn’t get it -or didn’t want to- and Jay was joking, of course he didn’t think he and Damian could be... like that. They were just best friends. Yes. Best friends didn’t have dates, nor did imagine or expect a future with each other. No. That was weird. And they didn’t give that image to others, did they?

He wanted to think no, but Jon was flushed to the ears by his best friend and now Red Hood was looking directly at him without saying a word at his reaction. Which was quite disconcerting, because the helmet made it impossible to discern any emotion or expression that the man might be doing, and for a moment Superboy felt what some villains or rogues in Gotham might feel before being crushed by Red Hood’s fury: an uncertainty fear by not being able to know what the hell he might be thinking.

“I-I don’t think it will take him long.” He finished babbling nervously to try to hide his nervous. “He could arrive at any time…”

Jon cleared his throat and looked up at the city lights again as he bit his lower lip, he didn’t want to have to face Red Hood and he still felt the shame bubbling up inside him, threatening to blush his face again. It was too late to pretend how weird his reaction had been, but he hoped Jason wanted to let that moment pass as well as he did. Because he didn’t know what he would do if he started joking about it now.

Fortunately, the eldest didn’t seem to want to comment on it, and he did him a huge favor by remaining silent. What’s more, he heard clearly how he took off his helmet to put it aside and lit a cigarette to start smoking silently.

They remained silent for a good time, listening to the movement and the nightlife of the city below them and with the wind lightly caressing them from time to time. Jon gradually calmed down with the vision of the lights, and Jason finished a cigarette and then lit another. Once he looked calmer and able to pretend he hadn’t been exposed in front of his best friend’s older brother, Jon realized how he should be surprised by the way in which precisely of all people, he seemed able to relax and fall into comfortable silence with the Red Hood, realizing that it hadn’t been difficult at first, either.

Jason treated him like a kid, yeah, but he never assumed he was dumb, innocent, or inexperienced like others did. He respected what he said sometimes and kept patient if he failed. He joked with him and bothered him, but always with a certain respect and knowing the limits, like at that moment, for example. And most importantly, he never demanded anything or showed unrealistic expectations of him, which many did without realizing. With Jason he wasn’t the “son of Superman”, or “the talented Super", or “a super”, he was just... A brat, a child, a kid who he ruffled his hair, could make blush with a joke, bring Chinese food or give a book for Christmas. That’s it. And was fine, because he didn’t feel like he had to explain anything or do something heroic to please him, not even pretend that he didn’t feel anything, or that he was more mature than he needed in pursuit of being the indestructible Superboy.

He inspired him a sense of normality, security. More or less the same as Conner. He liked that.

“So…”

The older one caught his attention and interrupted his thoughts, making him look at him and realize that he had half a cigarette left, as well as he wore the red mask under his helmet. The bat was looking straight ahead, but hadn’t continued speaking, he seemed to be measuring his words or thinking what to say, something weird about him that made Jonathan bow his head curiously and nervousness.

“The gremlin likes you.” Jason finished affirming with a serious tone and concise. “So much as someone can like to him, of course.”

Jon felt his heart jump again, but this time he controlled it, being aware that he didn’t have to say it that way, so he looked at him, urging him to continue. Although an unusual unease began to flood him, one he had never felt around him.

“And you like him.” The older man said again, still in that tone of strict yet inquisitive. “Right?”

For some reason, danger alarms started ringing in his head. Which made no sense, because as he had thought before, Jason had never been aggressive or dangerous towards him, he had no reason to be. So, what was wrong?

“…Yes?” Jon didn’t know how to respond, nor where that conversation went, but because of how the atmosphere was tense he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Is that a question?” Said then Red Hood, this time turning to look at him fixedly and the angry flooding his voice.

“No! I like him! I do.” This time he answered hurriedly and with more security, not wanting to anger him with vague answers. “He’s my best friend, of course I like him.”

Jason frowned and for a moment he looked like he had had a drink that had made him sick, looking at him in silence for a few seconds as if he had just said something that didn’t fit. Jon didn’t know what to think, the alarms kept ringing, and he shifted in his uncomfortable seat, he had never been so uncertain with him and his conversations had never had that tone, he didn’t even know what he could have done to anger him, if he was angry.

After a moment, Jason nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as if he had come to an agreement with himself. Again, he didn’t know what was going through his mind, he couldn’t know it either from what little he could see of his face, but he was still somewhat curious.

“I have kryptonite.” Hood announced suddenly.

Ok, that didn’t help him at all.

“Eh?” He asked, confused, still not knowing what he had done or how to fix it.

“And I know when to use it.”

“O-Okay?”

“Remember that when you grow up.” He sentenced then, throwing away the nearly finished cigarette and pointing a finger at him, like an offended middle-aged mother.

Jon, as confused as he was, would have liked to say that he was never going to forget it, because being aware of whom he shouldn’t annoy for having Kryptonite on him was basic survival for a Kryptonian. However, before he could say anything else or ask what was going on, a voice coming from the Red Hood helmet interrupted and made Jason part from him to let him breathe.

Jon instantly recognized the voice of the one who was trying to contact Red Hood, despite everything indicating that it was Tim, because Red Robin was already his partner in Gotham par excellence. Because of the way the other answered the call and smiled widely while putting the helmet back on to speak, Jonathan tried not to listen too much so as not to invade the privacy of the lovebirds (See, Superman? He isn’t that innocent. He knows things, even if he doesn’t want to tell you.) Although he wouldn’t have gotten listen a lot, because he was too distracted trying to assimilate the conversation he had just had and the possible implications.

Before reaching a conclusion, the hand calloused and larger from Jason fell on his head and stirred hair doing him squirming in his seat annoyed, huffing. He should have seen that coming.

“Sorry kid, duty calls me. Babybird says hello to you.” Jason said, this time in a tone much livelier and rising off the ledge. “It was a good talk; you are my favorite Superboy so far.”

This time he did roll his eyes, of course he was his favorite Superboy, if he couldn’t stand Kon and vice versa.

He wanted to ask what all the above had come from, the threat of kryptonite and all that, but instead he gave up and sighed as he looked how Jason stretched and then leaned to give him one last pat on the head, to bother, more than anything else.

Then, it was when he took his grapple gun to leave that he dispelled his doubts.

“Make the demon spawn happy, okay? No one can do it like you.” Said getting off from the ledge and pointing out the bag of food he had left as he walked away. “And enjoy your date!”

Jonathan couldn’t say goodbye because he was trying to control not only the strong blush that adorned his face, but the happy smile too, and the warmth that flooded his chest.

Gotham people were rough and rude, but also kind and patient. They protected what they loved and who they loved with ferocity and strength, as they watched how its happiness was prospering slowly. Jason Todd was from Gotham head to toe, that’s why only he was able to accept him, approve him for Damian, and threaten him with the typical shovel talk at the same time and in the same night so easily. It was natural for him.

Jon sighed happily and for a moment he wondered if the smile Jason had done when he heard Tim’s voice in comms was the same that he did when he spoke with Damian.

He knew the answer.

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redrobinfection · 6 years

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“Mi cama es su cama”

JayTim Week 2018 | Day 5 - “Bed Sharing” (Day 6), Pt 5 of 6

AN: Okay, so, March is definitely one of the worst times of year for me, surpassed only by April, so, originally, I hadn’t planned on participating in this JayTim Week. But I couldn’t stay away from the “bed sharing” prompt, and thus this massive oneshot was born. Since I don’t like posting long works to tumblr, and the fic naturally split into six, roughly-even parts, I’ve decided to release one part each day up until day six, at which point I’ll also share a link to the entire work on Ao3. I particularly enjoyed writing this spur-of-the-moment monster, so I hope you enjoy reading just as much!

Tags: enemies to friends to lovers, pre-N52, slow burn, blood and injury, tw: blood

<< Part 4

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Tim blew out a breath and sagged down onto the bed, running both hands through his hair. At this point it was a waiting game, nothing to do but wait until the man tucked into his bed woke up again. He carefully smoothed out the blankets he had draped over Jason's still form, mindful to keep his touch light so as not to aggravate the wounds stitched and bandaged underneath, and mused over the events of the past two hours.

The ordeal had begun with a bewildering alert from one of the safehouses at which he and Jay would often meet up to discuss cases or catch a nap if one or both of them were running on fumes. The napping part of it had started out as a joke between them after the time Tim had crashed at Jason's place right after the invasion had ended. Since then, every other week or so, one of them would show up at whichever safehouse the other was currently occupying just to beg a nap, hang out, and eat the other's food. These days, they were hanging out together at least twice a week, and Tim was actually starting to depend on those extra naps to keep him going throughout the week.

So when he had gotten the alert, he had wondered if maybe Jay had thought that he was there for some reason and just hadn't thought to disable and reset the security? It was that or someone had legitimately broken into the place; all of the Bats knew to either call him or disable the security themselves upon entering, so it wouldn't have been one of them. He had been particularly bewildered after he had pulled the security feed and saw that it was indeed Jason who had entered. Uncertain and a little concerned, Tim had peeled off from his patrol route and circled back to check, just in case.

Maybe Jason had info for him but had lost his comm? Or maybe he'd been hit with fear toxin or something similarly nasty and just homed in on the closest place to crash, just as Tim had months ago when he'd been hit by Freeze? Or maybe he had just really needed a nap?

Those possibilities had circled like impatient vultures in his head as he had cautiously entered the safehouse through the false wall Jason had carelessly left ajar. Upon seeing nothing immediately out of place, he had turned off the silent alarms and reset the system. He had then walked from room to room, seeking Jason out, until he had found him in the only bedroom.

At first glance it had appeared that Jason had snuck in for a quick nap, stretched out on his stomach across the bed, hood nowhere to be seen, head buried in a pillow. The second thing Tim had noticed was that Jay hadn't bothered to remove his boots before flopping across the bed. It was at the point that Tim had opened his mouth rouse his guest and gleefully rib him for his oversight that he had noticed the third thing, the spreading pool of blood just seeping out from under Jason.

Tim had instantly cried out and jumped forward, gingerly rolling the man onto his back. The stain hadn't spread too far, but thinking back to when he'd first gotten the alert and by looking at the deep color and wet glisten of blood that could no longer be absorbed by the saturated material, Jason had clearly been bleeding profusely for a while.

Heart in his throat, Tim had jumped right into crisis mode, quickly stripping out of his gauntlets, pulling on the nitrile gloves he kept in one of his bandolier compartments, shaking Jason to gauge level of consciousness - completely non-responsive - and feeling for a pulse as he gauged Jason's color and breathing. He had clearly lost a lot of blood, as confirmed by the paleness of his skin, his rapid, shallow breaths, his rapid, thready pulse, and the total loss of consciousness, but at least Tim had made it back while he had still had a pulse.

Tim had wasted no time in running into the gear room for his vigilante first aid kit, IV fluids and oxygen. He then quickly identified two gunshot wounds to the torso, in the lower right quadrant, and one superficial wound to the left shoulder. He had staunched the bleeding temporarily with sterile gauze and pressure bandages, then set Jay up on fluids and oxygen while he had made some calls out to Oracle and the Bats to call in some favors.

He had then cleaned and stitched the wounds in record time - Jay had been lucky the bullets hadn't gone deep enough to rupture viscera or nick any major arteries, otherwise he would have been taking a trip to his least favorite cave in the world, if he had survived long enough for Tim to call in the cavalry - and then he had gingerly shifted Jason over on the bed so he could strip the blankets and sheets from under him. The blood had soaked all the way through, as he'd thought - the mattress was a total loss - but it was the only bed Tim had, so he had done his best to soak up as much liquid as he could, then laid down a layer of towels before stretching clean sheets over the bed.

He had only just then finished tucking Jason back into the bed, setting him up on a unit of blood, cleaning up the bloodied sheets and towels, and putting away the first aid supplies. It had been two hours since he had first gotten the alert from his security app, but it had felt like two of the longest hours of his life.

He hadn't realized until he'd seen the pool of blood and seen Jason's pale, slack face how much he actually cared for the man. It scared him, just how much he cared. It frightened him, just how much it had frightened him to find Jason bleeding out and unresponsive in his bed.

He shifted his attention back to the man lying in his bed in the present moment. He threaded his fingers into Jason's and squeezed, his fingers mimicking the fear he felt squeeze his chest in that moment as he thought back on how close to total disaster they had come tonight. If he had been a few minutes slower or if the bullets had gone a little bit deeper or if they'd hit just a little higher. So many 'what-ifs' and it terrified him that the mere act of considering those possibilities terrified him so much.

He'd felt fear for the safety of those he'd worked with before - for Bruce, for Dick, for Steph, for Bart, Kon, Cassie and the Titans, even for Damian, once - but he'd never felt fear like this before. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Now that he was waiting for Jason to wake up, he wasn't sure whether he was more nervous about what would happen when Jason woke up again - what he would say, what Jay might say, what would happen next - or at the possibility that Jason might never wake up again.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft sound from the bed. The significance of that sound pulled a relieved smile from him in spite of the churning feeling he felt in his stomach as he watched Jason begin to stir. He subtly shifted his grip around Jason's hand, lightly feeling for a pulse and feeling a greater measure of relief from the strong, steady beat he felt gradually quicken under his fingertips. After a minute or so, Jason's eyes blinked open once, twice, then stayed open, at which point his face immediately twisted in pain.

"Wha' happ'n?" Jason groaned.

"I was hoping you could tell me that," Tim responded smoothly. It took Jason a few tries to focus his gaze on him.

"I was… trackin' down a weap'ns deal an'… turned bad… got caught in th' crossfire as I tried t' break it up… an' then… I dunno," Jason recalled woozily, frowning slightly. He pulled his hand from Tim's and pressed it lightly to the wounds on his abdomen, hissing slightly.

"And then you somehow made it out here, broke into my apartment, took a little nap in my bed, and bled all over my sheets. Not to mention you forgot to take your boots off first," Tim finished, keeping his tone light and teasing.

Jason huffed a laugh, then grimaced and pressed his hand harder against the wounds. "Shit, man… don' make me laugh. Hurts." Tim rose smoothly and retrieved two syringes from the dresser and rounded the other side of the bed to fiddle with the IVs. "Sorry about the sheets, though. And the boots, of course," Jason finished, shooting him a wink that was nearly indistinguishable from a wince.

"Don't worry about it," Tim assured him, patting the hand just below the IV sites patronizingly, "I mean, you forgave me that one time with Freeze, so I'm sure I can give you this one."

"H-how generous of you," Jason choked out, clearly trying his best not to laugh.

"I've got some painkillers and antibiotics here for you, if you want them. No allergies, right?" Tim asked, waving the syringes. Jason nodded vigorously to each, so Tim carefully uncapped and injected them into the port he'd placed with one IV catheter for this express purpose. "I would have given you the painkiller sooner, but I wanted to make sure you'd wake up first."

The tension visibly drained from Jason's face and body within seconds of the painkiller going in. He let out a pleased sigh as he relaxed back onto the pillows Tim had propped him up upon. "No problem, man. I'm just really grateful you got me the good stuff. Oh, yeahhhh… that's the stuffffffffff." He practically melted into the pillows, a happy little puddle of high-as-a-kite Jason.

Tim snorted. "Yeah, I had to call in a few favors to get my hands on it, so you're welcome." He capped the empty syringes and set them aside. "Had to call in one for the blood too. You're lucky I had the rest of this stuff on hand here or we would have been shit out of luck and you would have had to take a ride in your least favorite automobile in the city."

"Hey, nah, I love the Batmobile - awesome wheels on the thing - I just can't stand the jerk who drives it," Jason explained drowsily, eyes slipping closed in spite of himself. "But thanks for not calling in big B or Dickie and the Demon Brat."

"Well, it was Damian who brought us the morphine and blood, so…"

Jason's eyes snapped open and he stared. "Wait, Damian did you a favor? Wait. He owed you a favor? How even…? What did you do for the demon for him to owe you a favor?"

Tim laughed, slowly rounded the bed, and sat down beside Jason once more. "Yeah, he owed me a favor, and part of the favor I did him involved not telling anyone why he owed me that favor, so, you know, I really like not getting stabbed and thrown from high places, and rather dislike having my grapple lines cut, so I'm gonna keep that one to myself."

"That's fair. But jeez…" Jason whistled. "To use a favor from the Demon Brat on me. Wow. I'm honored."

Tim grinned. "No problem, man." He was just about to stand and go in search of extra blankets when Jason's hand unexpectedly shifted from his wounds down to where Tim's hand rested on the bed, his chilled fingers wrapping around Tim's slightly sweaty ones with a firm grip.

"But really, Tim, thank you," Jason murmured seriously. "Thanks for catching the alarms I must have set off coming in here and a special thank you for not taking your time coming back and checking on them - coming back and checking on me. Thanks for patching me up." He paused, then smiled and squeezed Tim's hand, instantly rekindling the heavy churning feeling in his stomach that had fallen to the wayside during their easy banter. "Thanks for sharing your beds, particularly this one, tonight, with me. Means a lot to me."

Tim nodded and swallowed. "Y-yeah, no problem." He shot up from the bed, yanking his hand from Jason's abruptly. He fluttered for a moment before rambling out some words that might have conveyed a desire to find more blankets and get Jay some water, but probably came out too quickly to be understood, and then he fled the room. He took his time pulling the spare blankets from the main closet and filling a lidded cup - complete with straw - with water before he made his way back to the bedroom. He steeled himself outside the door, running what he planned to say over and over in his head.

"Here are more blankets and some water," he began as he walked in. Jason accepted the water silently, taking a few small sips before setting it aside. Tim draped several of the blankets over him carefully, then stood back from the bed. He sucked in a deep breath.

"Jay, I-"

"So where're you gonna sleep, Timbo? You got a couch in this place?"

"I uhhh… hadn't thought about it actually," he admitted. "No, I don't. I'll probably just make myself a pallet on the floor, to be honest. Plenty of blankets left."

Jason shook his head. "No, don't sleep on the floor, man. There's plenty of room on the bed."

Tim immediately began to protest, but Jason raised his voice to over him. "I'm serious, get yourself outta that suit and climb in. I can use all the extra warmth I can get right now; blood loss fucking sucks."

Tim wavered. "I don't want to accidentally elbow you in the middle of the night, or worse, kick you or something."

Jason scoffed, then fiddled with his nasal cannula with a grimace. "Like that ever happens. You're not a kicker, anyway. If anything you might snuggle me until my stitches pop, but believe me, I'll wake you up loooong before it gets to that, so stop stalling and get in. After all," Jason explained with a loopy grin, "we're not really sharing a bed if you're not in here too."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, but didn't argue it further. He had wanted to keep a close eye on Jay tonight, anyway. He quickly shucked off the remaining pieces of his suit and carefully climbed into the right side of the bed - ideally he would have liked to have avoided Jason's sore side, but with the IVs on the other side he didn't really have a choice - purposefully giving the injured man wide clearance. Jason huffed and dragged him closer, pulling him nearly flush against his side.

Eventually they settled in together, the sound of Jason's breaths growing slower and softer while the drip-drip of the IVs filled the silences in between. Before Jason could drop off completely and before Tim lost his nerve entirely, he sucked in another long breath and went for it.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"You really scared me tonight."

A long pause. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I… I don't know… I can't…" Tim struggled and he felt Jason shift beside him in confusion. "I'm not sure what I'd do if you had…"

"Died. Again," Jason finished, his words reminiscent of the many jokes he often made about his death. There was no humor in his voice this time, only understanding.

"Yeah. I'd… It scares me, Jason. It scares me how much it scares me. I'd really hate it if something happened to you."

"I'd really hate it if something happened to you, too," Jason admitted softly.

Tim let the silence stretch, weighing his next words carefully on his tongue and in his heart before he whispered them to the ceiling. He wasn't even sure Jason was awake anymore.

"Jay, I think I like you."

The admission floated into the space above and around them and Tim felt an overwhelming sense of peace at having finally gotten the words past his lips, words that he felt were true down to the depths of his soul, a truth that had grown between them for months without him ever realizing it.

Jason wasn't asleep. The response he gave without pause echoed in Tim's head until sleep finally took him and then all the way through the night and on into the morning.

"I like you too, Babybird."

---

Part 6 >>

#jaytimweek #jaytimweek2018 #jaytim #long text post #christmasriverswrites #my writing #tw blood #trigger warning: BLOOD #seriously if graphic depictions of blood bother you do not read this #I did it again; I wrote more compound-tense flashbacks #if I have to write another ''had'' I might scream #(*starts editing* *starts screaming*)#tbf it's really hard to time-jump a story without flashbacks so...#lesson learned: write the story in present tense next time #the slow burn has finally revealed some smoke ;3 And where there is smoke there are surely flames ;333?

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cat-the-dragon · 6 years

Text

JayTim week Day 1: Secret Dating//Bodyguard AU

AO3 link

Tim stretched out on his bed and smiled at Jason, making an, admittedly cheesy come hither gesture, but in their defense, it was going to be the first time they actually slept together. They had tried and failed for months to get some one on one time on the manor's unused corridors or supply closets, and stuff ALWAYS managed to happen before they could get off.

Cue, the taking a common day off. It hadn't been that easy to not be suspicious, and Tim personally thought that Martha most definitely was onto their illicit fraternizing affair.

But whatever, she liked them and the fact that they were mildly successful in keeping Bruce from being as good at self-preservation as a retarded mayfly. Also, she seemed to think their hardships were cute and romantic, and Tim was totally sure that she'd winked at him when he told her about his day off. It wasn't that important, Barbara was their boss that wasn't supposed to know that they were in a secret relationship.

And at the moment Tim would gladly tell her all about his thing with Jason if that would get him to join him in bed naked.

Which thankfully, he didn't need to do because Jason was there, and on board with the program and it was their day off.

Jason tried to look smooth and experienced, which didn't work out so well for him, but Tim had very little room to talk because he wasn't that much better. And really, he had fallen in love with the more stilted and awkward side of his partner that sometimes showed up behind his carefully crafted badass facade.

Tim had eschewed the badass facade altogether. When he got in the Wayne's service, Dick, their team leader, had taken him aside and explained exactly why he'd been chosen to be Bruce's bodyguard, and it mainly involved using Bruce's parental instincts to make him be less of a reckless idiot. Tim had taken it to heart.

He was, of course able to do a full take-down without breaking a sweat, he worked out and spared just as much as anyone else on the team, but on the clock? Utter and complete disaster. He spilled stuff, stumbled, ran in walls... everything and anything necessary to make Bruce think of him as a hopeless and fragile wreck of a boy (his... compact... size also helped on that front). Bruce was always trying his best to protect Tim from the fact that he was visibly not meant to be a bodyguard, which improved his own chances of survival greatly.

Tim smiled as he remembered his first meeting with Jason. He had been very new, and he had just started his 'two left feet' impersonation, so he was laying it on a bit thick. Jason had taken one look at him faceplanting by knotting his feet together on his way to formally greet his new client, and he'd honest to god sneered. Their interactions for the first week had been full of Jason totally disapproving of Tim, and Tim purposefully not telling him that it was an act because he didn't have to justify himself to the asshole in chief.

In the end Dick had gotten Barbara to call the both of them back to their company's headquarters, and he'd ordered them to go for a spar.

Tim has neatly wiped the floor with his new partner. A feat that he hadn't reproduced as easily since then because Jason didn't underestimate him anymore, and that had been a key point of his victory.

But the memory was still near and dear to his heart. Shortly followed by witnessing Barbara's dressing Jason down and yelling at him to stop undermining Tim's best effort at forcing Bruce to not always run headlong in danger.

"What are you smiling about?" Jason called, a pout on his beautiful lips. "I'm not trying to be funny, you know, could you act accordingly?"

Tim laughed. "But that's when you get the more amusing!" he reached for his lover and pulled him in. "I was thinking of our first spar."

Jason groaned. "You're never going to let it go are you?"

"No. Let it serve you as a lesson on judging books by their covers, grasshopper." Tim smiled to soften the blow and leaned in to kiss Jason's skin. It was their first time being mostly naked together, and there were wealth of so far unexplored skin to get his hands and lips on. And Tim was so not squandering that opportunity.

Jason got over his wounded ego pretty quick and into the making out, and they were just starting to try and wordlessly work out who wanted to top or bottom (because, yes, they were still awkward like that, and it was their first time, okay! they had a good excuse) when both of their phones went off in their emergency tones.

They froze and gave each other an half frustrated, half panicked glance before diving simultaneously for their earpieces.

Jason snatched a sheet on his way, almost toppling Tim over with his yanking, and ran out of the room so they could avoid having an echo. But since ha was a good lover and partner, he also tossed Tim's notebook at him and turned the overhead light on as he left the room.

"Hey boys." Barbara's voice chimed in his ear. "Sorry to interrupt your day off, but Batman has been sighted near the southern bank fighting the Joker and over fifty henchmen, and I'm going to need all hands on deck ASAP!"

Tim groaned, already mourning both his day off and his chance at having sex with Jason. "Okay. ETA fifteen." Jason echoed a 'same' over the line, and the hung up.

He walked to his dresser and got out his second and much more secret bodyguard uniform. He also set Jason's out, feeling grateful that he'd insisted there needed to be a backup at his place, and he started pouring himself in the black Kevlar.

This was the exact reason why being a Wayne bodyguard was so obscenely well paid, but required extreme proofs of loyalty to the Oracle guarding company, and of total discretion.

Years ago, Thomas and Martha Wayne had discovered that their son was moonlighting as a vigilante under the moniker of Batman. From what Tim had understood, they had first tried to cut all of his financial resources, but it had been an horrific failure, resulting in Bruce still going out but being woefully under-equipped while doing so.

In the end, they had looked for a trustworthy bodyguard organization to sick on their son, and Barbara and Dick's start-up had panned out as the better and trustworthiest. The financial mane of being extremely well paid for Dick's protection detail job by the Waynes had let Barbara set up her network. The Oracle company now had a lot of clients, and a lot of agents, and she took Bruce's escort from the best of those. But when Batman was out and being an idiot? The whole team was called.

Tim tightened the last strap across his chest and clipped his holsters in place, watching from the corner of his eye as Jason did the exact same.

Bruce, Batman, hated guns. Not that it stopped them. They weren't being paid by him. They were his bodyguards, not his minions, and their first goal was his protection, and hopefully to get him to stop his vigilantism. They never listened to him, and they generally did their best to hinder him most of the time. It made him extra grumpy and assholish, but they didn't give a shit.

Last on was the mask. There was no cutesy little domino for the Oracle bodyguards like some heroes had. They wore a modified motorcycle helmet, it made them pretty indistinguishable from one-another, and that was Barbara's loyalty to them shining through. She didn't want them to get swallowed up in a vigilante lifestyle, and that's why she'd made the 'batflock' all be so similar.

It reduced the villain's ability to go after them, to be able to recognize them or to go after them while out of the uniform. It also made the possibility of retiring from the high stake mission much easier, since they didn't have to feel like they were irreplaceable. Sure, they kind of were, but only in a good way. No one should be able to really notice if one of them got swapped out with someone else, so they COULD retire.

Tim and Jason took the hidden passageway from Tim's apartment to the closest Oracle garage and each climbed on a motorcycle, revving up and roaring down the secret tunnel and toward the battlefield that was Gotham's streets.

The battle was intense, and Tim almost dove in front of a bullet for Bruce, only getting saved by Dick managing to shoot the potential danger just before acting as a meat shield became necessary. Tim had absolutely no illusion that Bruce could have missed his intent, but they had more to do, and it got forgotten in the heat of things.

Tim was used as a springboard by Cass on her way to tackle Bruce down before he could be clubbed over the head, then he had to duck to let Steph shoot one of the Joker's henchman trying to sneak on him. Jason mowed down ten of the Joker's people, and they wrapped the fight up by, as their standard procedure dictated, piling up on Bruce, tying him up and tossing him in the Batmobile so he couldn't try to stay or run away.

SOP also dictated to head back to the Batcave along with Bruce so they could pile up on him again and hold him still while Alfred and Thomas treated whatever injury he managed to get in the battle, and also so they could get a look-over by Thomas, who was a doctor and a good person who really worried for them unless he could confirm that he didn't endanger them too much by hiring them to protect his son.

Things ran mostly smoothly, Bruce tried to yell at Tim for almost taking a bullet for him, Dick yelled back that Tim wouldn't need to be endangered if Bruce didn't go out at night to fight criminals with his bare hands and bits of metal. Somehow, Tim didn't know how, Bruce had still not clued in on the fact that Tim's klutz routine was just an act, and so he was the one who triggered his protectiveness the most. Probably, Bruce thought that he was kind of hopeless, but that adrenaline got him to be much better than usual. Not that it really mattered, it worked and it was the point.

Tim and Jason let Thomas see that they weren't dangerously injured, politely ate the cookies that Martha and Alfred baked for them as thanks for always keeping their idiot out of harm's way and headed toward their rides.

Dick smiled at them but stopped them before they made it out of the cave. "Hey, sorry for your day off. I'll be sure to guilt trip Bruce for bothering you by choosing today specifically to sneak out." Tim smiled. Dick had been with Bruce for the longest, and he tended to be ruthless toward him. "Oh, also. Babs says that she's really trying to turn a blind eye on the two of you, but it would help her if you didn't mess up and answer each-others' phones specifically on your common day off. That's really a lot to ask out of her selective blindness."

Jason swore and Tim cringed. So apparently, they were even worse than he'd first thought at this secret relationship thing.

#jaytim week #jaytimweek2018 #jaytim #bodyguard au #day 1 #secret relationship #fic #prompt #cat writes

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heartless-error · 4 years

Text

Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 5

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating: General, family feels, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, running away

Other(s) links: AO3

Broken.

The Batfamily was broken.

It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.

If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Chapter 5

Now

The sound of the keys being pressed hard and quickly resounded in the room, as well as the light and continuous whisper of the machines on and running around her. The dim morning light leaked slightly into the room, reflecting on the many screens that had been hidden from the public in the watchtower.

Adjusting her glasses better and placing a rebellious lock of hair behind her ear, Barbara read each line, phrase and code that passed on the screen in front of her carefully and methodically.

Although it was early, she had decided not to waste time and get to work immediately on the case that now worried her. After all, Oracle didn’t just guide Gotham vigilantes through the night, she did much more. Also had a few of cases to check out for the Birds of Prey, but she had run into something important the day before that couldn’t wait.

“Here.” Said a figure standing at her side, leaving a steaming and necessary cup of coffee on the counter. She hadn’t even heard him arrive. “Just how you like it.”

That “something” was also the reason his early visitor was there, showing up an hour ago with a promise of coffee and company.

“Thank you.” She said absentmindedly and returning to work as if nothing happened.

She didn’t have to bow her head and look at him to know that Dick was rolling his eyes and smiling at her fondly, she could feel his gaze on her, distilling tenderness and understanding as always did when she was absorbed around him by an important case.

And this certainly was, no matter how much Dick had appeared in the watchtower worried and waiting to talk about a totally different aspect of it.

“Damian knows?” She asked without taking her eyes off the screen, reading the news and recent events as grabbed the cup to take a sip.

As she delighted in the drink’s taste and caffeine starting to pump through her body, Dick pulled out his phone with a dejected aura and turned it on to watch the screen, his face showing nervousness and anticipation. However, that sad and decayed aura grew stronger after verifying he had no calls or messages, then shook his head.

“I’ll try to call him again.” He said, taking a few steps away to not disturb her and dialing Damian’s number, waiting for the younger to answer.

He wasn’t going to.

She knew it, he knew it, everyone knew it.

Contacting Damian these days was already very difficult itself, at least for something unrelated to the crusade. He always hung up unless it was an Oracle frequency, the comms was the only thing that connected him directly with them, and he used to turn off his phone when he knew they could bother him. Depending of the day, he could also read your texts or not, but that depended on his mood and other factors, such as Jonathan Kent intervening or his level od nostalgia.

But no matter how many times she tried to explain Dick that Damian is already 22, he’s not Robin anymore, lives with his boyfriend in Metropolis and doesn’t want to know anything about him. Because he always calls him, waiting for an answer as if nothing had changed. And she, as usual, allows it despite knowing the result.

Also, if Damian doesn’t want to see Dick on a normal daily basis, what makes him think today is going to be different? He had more reasons than ever to avoid him and everyone now, and surely, he would have turned off his phone and hidden it in the darkness corner of a drawer until next week or month.

It wasn’t just because Damian usually isolated himself completely from everything and everyone during the anniversary of Tim and Jason disappearance, without answer and hiding with his head down like a wounded, sad puppy to lick his wounds in the dark. But because this year he had starred a rather interesting and destructive episode resulting from what was surely an unhealthy coping mechanism and an ineffective emotion management.

It wasn’t the first year something like that happened, as time passed and the anniversary arrived, it was well known that it was coming a brief period of awkward silences, latent guilt, heated arguments, and an impending disaster. By whom? That was a surprise.

Two years ago, was Jonathan Kent with his spectacular drunkenness and tractor launch; Three years ago, it was his brother, Conner, who flew out of nowhere to the space, was missing for a whole month and when he returned the answer was “I went for a walk but I got hungry.”; Another was Stephanie and her call from the local police station for get into a bar fight and broke several bones of some men who seemed very afraid of her while they process the fine; Other, was the imminent and irremediable break up of Bruce and Selina after months of arguments and tension, whose consequent robberies to art galleries were disastrous; This year had been Damian getting fully involved in an explosion; And the previous -and the best, in her opinion- was Dick breaking into her living room drunk and stripping while screaming “Let’s do it for the old times” when her father was visiting.

Yes, something happened always, to a greater or lesser extent. Those involved always stayed away for a while before lifting their heads up and bearing the consequences, some more easily than others, of course. Kon promised to say someone if he was taking walks again, Jon paid the tractor, Stephanie the fine for aggression, Selina returned nothing, and now his father can’t look at Dick again. But the whole process took a while, after all the emotions had overflowed, they had stopped being rational so as not to deal with the pain of loss and they had to get back together. That was Damian needed, to recover and take responsibility for what happened.

The problem is that he didn’t know what had really happened, and what it could mean.

“No answer.” Dick sighed coming back to her side.

“Of course not.” She replied thoughtfully and drinking her coffee. “Give him some time.”

“I know, but Babs, he was hurt.” He complained, concern written on his face. “He should be in the cave, recovering…”

Barbara raised an eyebrow and looked at him behind the mug questioningly, causing Dick to snort nervously. If he really thought Damian was going to stay in the cave for a single second, with him there, after the disaster he formed part and injured, he hadn’t been paying attention to anything for the past six years.

“At least he won’t be alone, he’ll call us later.” He won’t. But Dick had to convince himself to don’t lose his temper. “How are you doing with that?”

He asked that pointing to the screen, and she still looked at him recapping her work from a few hours ago.

The explosion in Zodome center had been big, spread to several streets with subsequent serious fires and numerous wounded, deaths still to be determined. But as much as Superboy had appeared to help and the situation had gotten better, for the city was something common. Gamorra was an island where crime lived and reign, always had, no matter how hard they tried to cleanse or purify the place, crime always found another way to get in, adapt and live in the shadows.

That had been precisely the real cause of the explosion, even if they had deduced that it had been because the terrorist group Damian was chasing had become a little nervous with his presence.

Ironically, it was a trigger, but not the cause. One part of the group had entered the island because of the easy access to the black market, and the others for something more important and substantial in these times: information.

“Good.” She replied, setting the cup aside and typing on the keyboard again. “When the servers went down, I could get a lot of what was leaking on that supercomputer.”

Dick nodded, settling on the counter next to her and watching her working again, classifying with her programs the information they now had.

Gamorra was an ideal place for any villain or organization with questionable intentions to find a cozy place and establish a base. No one asked anything, your neighbors were other criminals who didn’t want to be disturbed too and privacy was highly valued.

Except when some annoying neighbors were more curious than usual and discovered a strategically hidden supercomputer in the city center that may contain very valuable information.

She still hadn’t determined who it belonged to and which was the exact function of such a processor, but based on what she had seen so far, the servers acted as a kind of filter between the common and the dark network that they drove privately. Apparently, they were pretty well established, shady deals, big money transactions, questionable contacts, handling and dominance of hacking programs, organ sales, forged documents, human trafficking, and in general everything that a dark net can bring.

Whoever it was, Barbara knew they were good, had resources and well organized, because not only had they managed to escape from their radar all this time, but the security was extreme and the network they had built was very large, it couldn’t have been done by a single individual. It was a group, one that didn’t mind destroying half a city as long as nobody gain access to them, because the moment the terrorists tried to enter, the extra security was activated, and everything was blown up.

All trace of the supercomputer and what had been around it had been reduced to ashes, causing a fatal and unexpected explosion that struck Damian and five blocks around. And everything could have stayed there, they would have succeeded and getting away with it, people would have died, and they would have continued with their network and control in the criminal world, but they didn’t count with one thing:

She was fucking Oracle.

And when everything exploded, the servers and programs that acted as a filter and security went off for a few seconds, then went back on immediately at the other part of the world, probably where the group had another computer which she was already trying to track down. But those few seconds were enough for her to steal information and certain operative programs, freeing them from theirs claws and using for her benefit.

It hadn’t been a lot, but enough. And since then, Barbara had been classifying each thing carefully, disabling viruses, sending the necessary information to entities that may need it and taking notes of every harmful business or name that went through her eyes.

Thanks to this everyone will be busy for a while, they had found a criminal mine which it’s necessary to eradicate and investigate, as well as the group that had given them the network and sense of freedom. If they did it right, they would know soon who they were, and can erase them, but at least she would have liked to discover all of this in a way that didn’t involve a fatal explosion, she’s sure Damian too.

But Damian doesn’t know this, because blames himself for it, can’t stand failure, misses Jason and Tim, and has not been able to forgive anyone in the family since they deserted.

“Something interesting?” Dick ended up asking as she finished her coffee. “Apart from all the illegal acts we now know.”

Barbara leaned over her chair and looked at him, reflecting.

Dick shouldn’t be here. He didn’t even understand part of what was going on, not because he couldn’t, but because his head wasn’t in the right place right now to do it. That’s precisely why he was there, making coffee, smiling at her and watching her working without question, because it was better to be distracted with her than his own thoughts. It wasn’t annoying, nor irritating, just… Babs knew why he did it, and that caused a slight pinch of anguish through her chest and made her want to work without rest to neither think (talking about unhealthy coping mechanism, right?)

Dick didn’t want to be alone. At least not today. But Bruce wasn’t an option, because they would jump into each other’s throat just by being in the same room, and probably argued about who was more guilty of what; Damian had fled away into Jon’s arms, he preferred to spend time with anyone than Dick, and the affection he had for him had frozen at the moment he did that six years ago; Stephanie wasn’t going to receive him, probably would spit him in the face for the same reason; And Cass not only lived with the previous one, but would look at him that way, so… Cass. Former Titans or other friends weren’t a bad choice, but it was as if Dick was afraid to get out of Gotham, as if he were tied up here.

So, he was there with her, talking and trying to distract both of them from the emotional meltdown that the whole thing entailed.

“Actually…” She started to say. “All of this gave me an idea."

“Hm?”

Dick tilted his head with a smile, looking at her expectantly and with great interest, just as he did when he was Robin and they were both young, so young and stupid. And the words Barbara wanted to say died in her throat, leaving her quiet.

She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t hurt him like that.

It was a brief idea, not even well formulated, but one that had been bothering her since she looked at the hacking programs she found within the dark network. Some of them were very smart and well programmed, but there was one in particular, expensive and sophisticated, that had caught her attention. It combined the typical control over cameras and security systems to turn them off or superimpose images, along with facial recognition systems. That reach an interesting effect, because according to what she had understood about it and how operated, if it hacks specific cameras and predetermine a face, a name or a person, the program prevent its detection, saving the images in the private servers of the network, avoiding them come to light and not only the acts of the person who use it were hidden, but also their presence, their existence. As if they had disappeared.

What if…?

With such kind of program, refined and using it correctly in specific points, a person could move around the world perfectly undetected, totally invisible to any media because his image was not registered commonly and it was derived to a closed and secure network. It was dangerous, and at the same time, perfect for wanted criminals, thieves and above all, people who want to disappear.

What if Tim and Jason had been using something similar?

Tim was brilliant and knew Barbara. They had worked together, was familiar with her methods, and he was aware that the moment they disappeared she would track them with all her power. But the tracking and recognition system she had created solely to find them had not find a single match in six years. She had thought it was because they knew how to avoid cameras and keep a low profile too well, but what if it was another thing? What if there was something else blocking her system? Like a sophisticated program like this?

It was a possibility.

And looking at Dick, curious, smiling and expectant, but with a deep sadness, guilt and tiredness shining behind his blue eyes, she realized she couldn’t tell him this. She couldn’t.

Because it was a possibility, it was a hope.

She couldn’t do that to Dick, not like that. If she told him about it and then she was wrong, it would break him. Everyone knew that Dick would jump into a burning building if anyone told him that Tim and Jason were inside. And if Barbara gave him something to hold on to and then take it away from him, she wasn’t sure how he will react. So, she just shook her head, grabbed his now empty cup of coffee and gave it to him carefully.

“Doesn’t matter. Don’t mind me.” She turned that down. “Can you get me another cup, please? I’ll finish this and then we can rest.”

“Of course.” He answered, still smiling and pretending not to have realized how she had hesitated, taking the cup and leaving.

She watched at him go, feeling a little bit more miserable than usual and holding back a sigh. Everything had been easier when they were young and stupid, hadn’t it? It was just them, jumping in the roofs, forming a good team and laughing as they flight. Now they have secrets, regrets, permanent injuries, brothers to miss and nobody to ask for forgiveness.

Would any of this have happened if she had put more effort at the time? What would have changed if she had decided to speak when everything happened instead of remaining neutral? Had anything would change?

She shook her head and decided she couldn’t begin to think about that topic beyond the possibility that now had, because it wouldn’t worth to sink in unanswered questions again. She knew the idea wasn’t defined either, that maybe it was more complicated than that, after all Tim was smarter and if he did something like this, he would do it with people he trusted.

But a little hunch mixed with a tiny hope leaded her to search that program, studying it for a few seconds. She couldn’t trace who used it and how, but now she’s the owner and main admin, she could disable it, undo it, digging up the original images. The probability that Jason and Tim were there was low, but if she were wrong at least would leak infinity of incriminating videos and photos that would serve to put other people in jail.

“It would be too lucky, right?” She thought with irony.

It was very difficult to be optimistic after so long. And after pressing the button, she saw how her systems started to work, analyzing and storing the images that were already beginning to appear in her screen quickly.

She heard Dick approaching her again, this time with two cups in his hands. Quiet, the ex-batgirl thought about how she could trace other programs like this, or their creator, or anything that could bring her a little closer to what had caused not to be able to find the missing Robins with her methods. And also, allowed herself to think with sadness how easy it would be if Tim were here, in another computer and helping her in the same disinterested way as ever, smiling shyly and insecurely as he told her about how Jason had invited him to his favorite chilli dogs truck the other night, or how Damian had been mad at him because Alfred the cat had learned if his owner put him on a diet, the solution was beg food to Tim.

She remembered how empty and useless she felt when she couldn’t track down or find the other two after Bruce called for help. As if all the work and development she had been through after being paralyzed were nothing, because at the end she couldn’t find her family.

Until one alarm started to ring.

An aloud and shrill alarm that had never sounded before, and she had been waiting -begging- for six years.

“Don’t screw with me.” She said straightening up in her chair and looking up surprised. “Don’t fucking screw with me.”

“What’s that sound?” Dick asked, standing at her side again.

“Oh shit.” She said, getting away from that computer to go to another one, rushing and starting to typing in a hurry, more surprised than ever. She didn’t think it would be true, nor if she were even right. “Oh shit!”

“Babs?” The other asked again, chasing after her and beginning to worry. It wasn’t like her to act like this unless she had a reason. “What happens?”

“Oh my god.”

“Babs?!”

She didn’t answer, because it was better to turn on the other screens around them so that Dick could see the same as her.

All the screens lighted up, showing images, many images from different places, different countries, a lot of places whose cameras had managed to record those whom they lost. The tall figure of Jason accompanied by the little of Tim, sometimes alone, almost always together, appearing in every corner of the screens without stopping, images where they were laughing, talking, walking, kissing, living, appearing one after another. Some from years ago, others from months, weeks, hours, the most recent from a few minutes.

Babs gasped, assimilating what she had just achieved. Dick dropped the cups on the floor, overwhelmed. “Match detected.” Shined on the screens, in large and showy letters, at last.

“Oh shit.”

They found them.

#myfic #tim drake #jason todd #jon kent #jonathan kent #damian wayne #jondami #jaytim #timjay #damijon #red hood #red robin #superboy #robin #dc #dc comics #supersons

15 notes · View notes

heartless-error · 4 years

Text

Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 6

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating: Family feels, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, running away

Other(s) links: AO3

Broken.

The Batfamily was broken.

It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.

If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Chapter Summary: Just when he thinks he's used to changes, his world is shaken to its core again, again, and again.

Chapter 6

Now

Damian’s feet landed in Wayne manor’s front garden about half and hour after that call.

He knew that only because he had deigned to turn on his phone for once and saw the time on the screen as he checked if they had told him anything else, but if it hadn’t been for that he wouldn’t have been aware of the time at all.

Damian had hardly been aware of anything in general. After that call it was like his world have been distorted, his brain turned into something unfocused and blurry. He had many thoughts at the same time but couldn’t focus on any of them before they quickly mixed up with each other or changed into other ideas or conclusions.

Everything was intertwined, twisted and hectic. Happy, sad, guilty, hopeful, or spiteful thoughts crushed him. All at once, flooding his head and nullifying him. He couldn’t decide, he couldn’t act as always because there was a big chaos inside him that he didn’t even know who he was right now (A son? A brother? A partner? A hero? A villain? A traitor?) He wanted to put his mind in order, go back to being himself and prioritize, put himself back together, but how to do that when everything could fall apart again?

Gordon didn’t say anything else in that call, it wasn’t necessary anyway, she simply hung up leaving him stunned in the kitchen and trying to catch his breath as the endless possibilities suffocated him. And one part of him, angry and full of an irrational rancor towards she and the family, said him that Barbara done it that way to made sure he would immediately go to the manor, regardless of whether it was significant or not, because is the only way to figure out what they had found.

The thing what Gordon didn’t know is that didn’t matter if it were meaningful or not, because Damian would go anyway as if the future of humanity depended on it. Because he knew, he knew, by her tone, by Dick’s texts begging him to go back, by the pressure in his chest, the concern in his mind and the feeling in his guts, that it was important and had to do with his missing brothers. And didn’t matter what they have found because it’s something and that was more than enough.

Enough for his sanity to explode in thousand pieces, for his body being put on guard immediately and his soul freeze. Hope mixed with impatience was what dominated him now.

He remembers vaguely and shapely blurred return the phone to Conner, quietly and ignoring his worried questions to go to his room and get dressed.

The weight he felt in his being lightened a little when Jonathan entered half-dressed in their room, looked at him closely a few seconds and then started to help him prepare to fly away to Gotham. No questions, no inquiring, just a nervous shine in his eyes and shock in his expression. Damian doesn’t know what kind of expression should have on his face -or if it was another superpower of his boyfriend- but Jon knew instantly something happened, as always. He always knew how to read him like no one else and what he needed at the moment, and Damian loved that as much as it terrified him.

However, during the flight heading to Gotham he had time to be terrified over other things. For example, discover what they had found, whether it was good or bad, and most importantly: how.

Many options and variables arose before him as they made the second Metropolis-Gotham trip of the week, and none liked him.

Because, seriously, how?

It didn’t make any sense, he thought there were no cracks, no clues to follow. Further, it was well known to all that in missing persons cases, time was essential, the more time passed the trail got colder and less easy is to find anyone. So, how the fuck they could found anything after six fucking years?

What’s going on?

By the time they arrived at the manor, his mind was still the same or more confused than before he left the apartment.

“Damian.” Jon said beside him, drawing his attention in that soft way he always did whenever he wanted to talk about something mildly serious.

He hasn’t let go of his hip since they’d landed, still clung to him sideways as if he were afraid of letting him go, but gently and trying to be careful with his wounds still in process of healing.

Damian looked away from the grass next to the path that led to the manor’s entrance and looked at his partner, who was staring at him thoughtfully. Jon hadn’t even combed his hair before leaving (although flying can mess up the hair a lot), he had forgotten his fake glasses, put different socks, and those were crocks? Damian would like to say that he wasn’t usually such a disaster, but it’s a lie, and they weren’t in this situation every day, to which Jon had reacted quite well even without knowing what’s happening, being honest.

“Gordon called.” He decided to explain quietly and looking sideways at the manor’s entrance door. “They have a clue.”

“I thought so.” He replied, surprising him. “Dick has sent more texts asking me to bring you back, you don’t seem well and Kon wasn’t better when we left.”

Ah yes, Kon.

Damian had ignored everything around him after the call, and it was now when he remembers how Kon was in front of him, demanding answers, listening to how he used his phone, and seeing how he entered in that self-destructive personal trance to run away minutes later, leaving him there and also drawing his own conclusions.

They couldn’t leave him like that. Neither him nor the fact that Dick and everyone seemed to resort Jon’s -or Kon’s- mobile number whenever they couldn’t contact him, and they had to handle both things.

“You have to talk with Conner.” He said to Jon seriously. The other super’s questions also resonated in his head hard, reminding him the consequences of his actions.

“I know, leave it to me.” He sighed as shaking his head. “When I come back, I’ll explain him-”

“No, Jonathan.” He cut him off, still serious. “You have to speak with him.”

As expected, he understood what he wanted to say instantly. His posture straightened, faltered in his grip and the concerned expression he showed before for his older brother hardened. His eyes wavered between Damian and the manor, several times.

“You think they know-?” He was unable to finish the question before looking at the manor with restlessness.

“I don’t know.” Damian replied shaking his head. “They haven’t told me anything else.”

Jon nodded finally understanding the situation, which didn’t make the nervous and impatient atmosphere dismiss between them at all. Questions without answers floating in the air, what did they know? How? How much?

“What about Kon?”

“He asked me about it this morning.” Damian said with calculated coldness, like he was giving a report. “He has his suspicions.”

Justified. And he was not the only one.

Then, knowing that, Kon squeezed his grip and in a second they were hugging hard, the super hiding his head on his shoulder and Damian clinging to his back as if it were the only thing that kept him sane, as if they wanted to hide from everyone. Which was true.

“I’ll fix it.” Jon whispered over his shoulder, reluctant to let him go.

They both knew that however much they wanted; Jon wouldn’t be able to accompany him to the unexpected bat-meeting. He wasn’t a bat after all, not matter that he had also been severely affected by what had happened, that Tim and Jason had practically raised him too, or that he was “family” in a way. No, this was a batfamily matter to the core and he was not invited.

Damian knew that and yet he hugged him like a koala while gathered the courage to enter and receive responses. When he had Jon by his side, he felt invincible, stronger, unbeatable, because he was with him and will never let him fall.

He couldn’t feel that with his family, not anymore.

“You have to go. They’re waiting for you.” Jon finished saying resignedly, annoyed to have to let him go.

They parted a little, looking at each other’s eyes and Damian hesitated. He was raised to be a warrior, an assassin. He had been in many dangerous battles and missions throughout his life, some were a complete madness that many wouldn’t believe, sometimes he even ask himself how is still alive. But for some reason, this is bigger and more dangerous for him than something else, Damian feels like he’s on his way to the slaughterhouse.

“Call me later?”

“I will try.” He would like to say yes but depending of the development of events it could be the opposite. “Stay tuned, just in case.”

Jon nodded and sighed heavily, not happy with that decision but with no other choice. They didn’t want to be apart, but the sooner they did, the faster they would know what was going on and how much they should worry, instead of jumping to conclusions and going crazy. So, with one last anxious look, Jon leaned to give him a warm kiss that shook his world and didn’t mind corresponding, almost complaining when they had to separate definitely.

“Be careful, I love you.” Jon said with a tender smile before leaving another light kiss on his cheek.

“Me too.” Damian replied, dry and barely heard.

He turned around and started walking towards the entrance, just in time not to see Jon take off and leave. Even so, he knew very well that Jon was smiling how always did like it was the first time he listened him saying that, even if he had improved to let that go easily over the years.

He tried to keep the warm and fuzzy feeling that it caused him, having learned to express himself without feeling guilty and/or vulnerable, making his lover happy along the way, but everything went easily replaced to anxiety and nerves when he saw himself knocking the manor’s door.

Damian didn’t have to wait a full minute for it open slowly, with wood and hinges roaring heavily, revealing the manor’s interior and the butler in charge behind the door.

“Master Damian.”

Alfred Pennyworth greeted him in a polite tone, as elegant as firm as ever. Old age and the effect of time on the butler were visible but didn’t matter how old he might be at first glance, because his strength and tenacity were still there. Even if Damian considered himself an adult, the authority and domain Alfred had on everyone was always indisputable.

“Good morning Pennyworth.” He greeted in response.

“It is a pleasure to finally have your presence in the Wayne manor.”

That was said in a slight tone of reproach that you can only recognize if you have been scolded by Alfred many times in the past.

And the guilt that Damian already dragged per se just got bigger after that, because he knew that reproach was not only because he had taken too long to knock on the door -because he was sure Alfred knew the exact moment he set a foot in the garden.- No, it was because it’s been a long time since he even walked down the entrance, since the cave (and sometimes his room) was the only place he had deigned to step on since he moved with Jon.

“The others are waiting for you.” The butler reported opening more the door and leaving him space to enter.

“I came here as soon as I could.”

“I don’t doubt it, sir. I assume you have been informed about the recent events?”

“Yes. Something like that.”

He said the last somewhat resentful and irritated for not knowing everything, looking at Alfred analytically as he passed him, trying to see some indication in him. Which was impossible, of course, because Alfred has always been like a blank wall for everyone, specially when he wanted to, and this time would not be less.

So, after entered he started to head towards the clock room and the cave in silence, looking at the ground with intensity and trying not to think about the agonizing jolt of his chest, because he was in enough self-conflict already to add memories from that place to the mix that could turn that lump in his throat into vomit. He also heard how the older man closed the entrance door and accompanied him.

“If you allow me the observation, I assume that Master Kent has contribute to help with those wounds that I treated nights ago.” He said, again, in that slightly sarcastic and accusatory tone. “I’m glad to see both of you are happy and in a good health, sir.”

Damian stopped walking and turned to look at him, unease, and indecision scratching under his skin. Alfred’s façade hasn’t moved, of course, but he knew how to read between lines. And beyond the fact that this man -his grandfather, practically- had always worried about everyone’s health and wellness, it was who treated him nights ago too, when he was involved in the explosion. The concern that must have caused him had to be hard, not to mention that later he ran away without even saying goodbye. He knew Alfred wasn’t angry and was serious when he said he was glad about him and Jon, but that didn’t make the feeling of guilt recede.

Specially since he also remembers very well the way the butler seemed dejected when Jason, Tim, or even Grayson did the same thing in the past. All of them worried their dear grandfather a lot without intending it, when he had always given them all his love, affection and care he possessed.

The lump in his throat seemed to get bigger, and he wanted to apologize (or at least try), to tell him that he was okay, it wasn’t his fault and, really, he’s eating properly, but his voice interrupted his already confused thoughts.

“Have you had breakfast, master Damian?”

“A coffee.” He answered hesitantly.

“That’s not an appropriate breakfast, sir.” Alfred replied raising an eyebrow. “I’ll take care of it and assure something adequate for your condition.”

“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.” He tried to dissuade him, mostly because he felt he was physically unable to eat anything right now.

“I’ll take it downstairs when I finish.”

And just like that, he headed for the kitchen, leaving Damian more tangled and sunk into himself than before.

On top of that, he intuited that willingness to dedicate to cooking was due to an attempt to distract himself as much as possible and at the same time continue taking care of him as he could, which didn’t help at all to calm him down.

Damian shook his head and breathed deeply, then follow his way to the cave that led him to relapse in a spiral of nerves and anxieties growing stronger as he approached the room. The mist had reappeared, and his mind was saturated again when he got to the clock, opened it, and started to go downstairs, acting out of inertia and muscle memory.

As he went down, his chest seemed to weight more and more, the emotions accumulated at every step he took, vivid memories played in his head, making him shrink in disgust. He didn’t want to do this, not after the chaos that had been these days, and the perspective of it getting worse made him wants to run away, rip of his chest to get out everything that consume him and shout.

When he arrived, nobody was there.

The cave seemed empty and was quiet apart from the occasional sound of bats above them and machines running. He knew he wasn’t alone, and the others would probably be elsewhere, but the batcomputer was on and the huge screen illuminated everything around it.

It looked like call him, so Damian headed towards there looking down again. He wouldn’t be happy if saw again the Red Hood and Red Robin suits exposed, however much a voice in his head tell him that he had to, he would do it anyway when he looked up, he had to, he was there for them after all, how hypocrite could he be?

But he resigned himself and reached the batcomputer concentrating in his surroundings. He didn’t feel anyone, didn’t know what they might be doing either, but didn’t care. He was there, in front of the computer, where surely whatever they had found was.

“If I have time, maybe I can del- ” He thought, looking up as approaching the keyboard.

And froze.

Nothing. He couldn’t do nothing.

His mind, which had been about to explode half of the morning, screaming thousands of different things and uncontrollably, fell silent. Totally silent, blank. His entire being was paralyzed when his world had been shaking to the ground before. He could no longer listened to bats or machines, nothing. Nothing.

In the screen were three images taken from security cameras, a location and a clear message about the matches found in the database.

Three photos of Tim and Jason, more adults and different, but them. The first was one of them walking together down the street, holding hands; The other two were individuals, with Tim walking into an electronic store and Jason into a local library. All of them with the current date and taken hours ago. The location was a little coastal town in Florida.

Damian wanted to die.

“Those are real.”

Someone spoke behind him, and Damian wasn’t sure how long he had been looking at the screen, or if he had been off guard from the start but had not noticed anyone approaching. To be fair, he had other things to pay attention to.

“We found them, Dami.”

He had no strength, no will, not even energy to turn around and tell Grayson not to call him that, that he had lost that right, to not to approach him, not to say all that in that hopeful and happy tone, because who the fuck does he think he is? Who did he think was the real culprit of all this?

He couldn’t breathe. He was choking.

“We will go and look for them.” Grayson was closer now. “We will talk to them, fix this and everything will be as before.”

After that, Damian turned around, starting to tremble inside, his hands tingling and his cheeks wet. His stunned gaze met with Dick’s, who was halfway to find him and now looked at him alarmed and surprised.

“Dami, it’s okay.” Said the first Robin, touched. “Don’t cry.”

Dick thought he was crying with happiness.

He didn’t.

#myfic #tim drake #jason todd #jon kent #jonathan kent #damian wayne #red robin #red hood #superboy #robin #jaytim #timjay #jondami #damijon #supersons #dc comics #dc #batman #batman comics

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