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[personal profile] munnin
Title: The broken glass
Author: Munnin
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tony Stark/Tim Drake, Dick Grayson.
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit and no offence meant. Everyone is of the age of consent in their country and period of history
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t.
Bingo card: H/C. Multiple personalities: sudden onset.
Masterlist here.

Summary: To be who he thinks he needs to be make Tony happy, Tim gives up being himself.
Set very much in the universe of
Drink, drank, drunk with a nod to [info]iesika’s brilliant Public Transports and Private Party. Thanks again to JD for the idea.

Tony spotted Tim crossing the street as they zoomed down Madison Ave. “Happy?” he called to his driver. “Pull over and we’ll grab Tim.”

The driver nodded and manoeuvred the car to the sidewalk just as Tim strolled by.

“Hey kid?” Tony leered. “Going my way.”

Tim shrugged and ignored the comment. He kept walking, his shoulders slumped and his hands in his pockets. Tony noticed for the first time how dressed down Tim was. The youth as never very showy in his apperance but he was usually pretty well decked out, subtle but sophisticated. Today he was dressed like any other kid his age, scruffy and street-worn.

“Hey? Come on.” Tony tried, wondering what was up. “Hop in babe.”

Tim looked him up and down through the open window. “What ya want mister?”

“Just the pleasure of your company.” Tony teased languidly as Happy inches the car along to keep pace with the youth.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that company worth to you?”

Tony grinned, he got the game now and was more than happy to play the rich pervert for Tim’s entertainment. “Oh I promise you I’ll make it worth your while.” He propped the door open and beckoned.

Tim hesitated for a moment climbing in, watching as the tinted glass rolled up. “This better not take long. I got places to be.”

“I’m sure I can find you better places to be.” Tony wrapped his hand around Tim’s narrow chin, drawing him into a kiss but Tim flinched away. “You don’t like being kissed?”

“Mister I’m just pay’n rent.” Tim growled, pulling away and shifting uncomfortably on the seat. “You want me to blow you or what?”

Tony gave a sly if bewildered smile. It wasn’t like Tim to play games like this and Tony was suddenly a little unsure. He reached across, tweaking back the frayed collar of Tim’s tee-shirt. The scar was there, as it should be so he hadn’t picked up some random kid by accident. So what was up? Tim was usually pretty vanilla when it came to sex – beautiful, passionate and a pleasure to love but rarely adventurous. The idea of him blowing Tony in the back of the car while Happy was driving was a whole new level of kink...

“Do you want something to drink maybe?” Tony asked tentatively.

A grin split the youth’s face. “Got any champagne?”

Ok, this was even weirder. Tim didn’t drink. Ever. Tim didn’t even like Tony to drink around him. “Sorry, no.”

Tim shrugged, shifting on to the floor. “So we gunna do this or what? I got places to be.”

Tony shrugged, figuring he’d work it out later and flipped open his pants. Tim was down on him like a shot, swallowing Tony to the root.

“Shit.” Tony whispered as Tim gagged around him. “Take it easy beautiful.” He tangled his fingers in the youth’s hair, slowing him down and guiding him but Tim would have none of it and pumped him hard and fast. Tim’s determined mouth and the fact they were doing this in the back of the car had Tony on edge in no time. He was no stranger to backseat parties but this was Tim - his beautiful, shy little bird sucking him like a street whore. Tony pulled at his shoulders, trying to draw the youth back but Tim swallowed him deep and he came down the youth’s throat with a sigh.

Tim knelt back on his heels and wiped him mouth, eyeing Tony’s glazed expression. “You gunna pay me or what mister?”

Tony’s brow crinkled and he reached for his wallet, holding it open for Tim to take what he wanted. Fuck, it was only money and it wasn’t like either of them really needed it.

Tim plucked a handful of hundreds out of Tony’s expensive, custom designed wallet and scarpered out the door.

Happy glanced up at him through the rear view mirror. “Everything ok boss?”

Tony stared after Tim as he vanished through the crowd. “I really don’t know.”


Tony didn’t see Tim for nearly a month which wasn’t unusual for them but when he spotted Tim at one of the Wayne Enterprise charity gigs, he followed his young lover out onto one of the private balconies. Dressed in a perfectly fitted Armani suit, Tim was stunning even in the sea of penguin suits.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” Tony crooned, a hand on the rail either side of Tim to hold him there, pressing himself against the youth. “I had to convince myself not to jump you on the dance floor.”

“Tony.” Tim scowled, low and scandalised as Tony ground against him. “We can’t. Not in public.”

“Didn’t bother you last time.” Tony teased, leaning in to maul Tim’s neck, just above the perfectly starched collar.

“Tony, don’t.” Tim shoved him roughly, pushing him away far enough to get out of his grip. His cool cheeks were livid with colour, his eyes flashing angrily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but you know I can’t do this, not out in the open.”

“Happy didn’t mind.” Tony soothed. “Can’t say I did either. It’s just a pity you took off before I could-” He stopped as Tim backed away, something dark and worrying in the youth’s eyes. “Tim? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t...I can’t...” the youth backed up to the door, his hand on the knob. “I have to go.” And he took off at speed back into the stuffy ballroom.

Tony let the youth go, drifting towards the bar. He didn’t see Tim again all night and the flat panic in the youth man's eyes was playing on Tony’s mind.

Something wasn’t right.


Dick caught Tim’s arm as the youth raced through the ballroom. “Hey! Slow down.” He let Tim go as the young man stopped. Tim was flushed and breathing hard. “You ok?” Dick asked, stroking his brother’s cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing...I just...” Tim puffed. “I just need some air.”

“Want some company?” Dick asked, loathed to let Tim go off alone. He’d seen Tony follow Tim outside earlier but knew Tony wouldn’t do anything to hurt the youth.

“I’ll be fine.” Tim muttered, sounding more confident. “I just need to go sort some stuff out.”

Reluctantly Dick let him go, watching as Tim bolted upstairs.


Tony wandered down to the car, content to drive himself home. He’d only had one drink just in case Tim turned up again and Happy was busy dancing with Pepper. Better not to spoil their fun.

There was a figure leaning against his car. A Tim shaped figure. “Tim? Is everything alright? You seemed pretty pissed earlier...” but as he got closer Tony realised something was wrong. Gone was the Armani suit, Tim was now dressed in the tattered skate-punk outfit.

“Hey mister?” the kid called, “You got champagne yet?”

It was unmistakeably Tim, same eyes, same face shape, same scar but the stance was wrong. The kid lacked Tim’s grace, his natural pose. “Not with me but...” Tony started, flicking the button to unlock the car. “Come back to my place.”

The kid backed off a touch. “Nothing weird now mister?”

“Nothing weird.” Tony promised, “We’ll just enjoy our drink somewhere quieter.”

The kid got into the car without comment and said nothing till they got back to Tony’s Gotham apartment.

Jarvis greeted them as they came through the door. “Welcome home Sir. Good to see you Master Timothy.”

That clinches it. Tony thought. Jarvis’s biometrics were never wrong but Tim just wrinkled his nose up and looked about, ignored Jarvis in favour of exploring the suite.

“Nice digs.” The kid purred, looking the apartment over as if he’d never seem it before.

“Thanks.” Still confused, Tony pulled a bottle of champagne from the fridge. “Still want some?”

“Fuck yeah.” The kid grinned toothy and broad in a way Tim never smiled. “Got a bit of a taste for this stuff a few years back.”

“Rich friend?” Tony asked, popping the corking and pouring them both a glass.

“Could said.” The kid grinned slyly. “He had a thing for drinking it off me in the back of his limo.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. The thought was appealing for sure but that Tim would let anyone do that? Even Dick? Didn’t sound right.

The kid polished off the glass and topped it up. “Want some more?”

“I’m right.” Tony muttered, putting his glass down. “Tim, this is fun and all sure you’re ok?”

The kid shrugged. “You want me to be Tim? I can do that.” He downed his second glass and peeled off his shirt. “What do you want me to call you? Daddy maybe?”

Tony started to protest but Tim was now very naked and strutting towards him, lustful and showy in a way Tony had never seen before.

“You want me up against the wall or yer got a bed to fuck me into?” the kid purred, dropping to his knees and rubbing his cheek against Tony’s groin. “Either way’s good for me but yer paying.”

“Tim I...” but Tim had his pants open and was sucking hard, working his mouth onto Tony’s cock. It took everything Tony had to push the kid away. “Bed. Now.”

“Yes Daddy.” Tim grinned, his sweet lips red and swollen. “How do you want me?”

“On your knees.” Tony muttered, searching though his drawer for the slap-patches he’d been working on for Fury. They crinkled like a condom wrapper as Tony peeled one.

On the bed, Tim stretched out like a porn star, his tight and perfect ass poised and lifted for the taking. Tony ran a gentle hand over his skin before pressing the patch down.

“Sorry babe.” He whispered as Tim’s eyes rolled and he passed out. “But something’s very wrong here.”


Nightwing slipped away from band of villains he was zip-tying for the police to answer the buzz of his comms.

“N here.”

“Dick it’s me.” Tony sounded frantic and worried. “Something’s wrong with Tim.”

“Where is he?” Dick demanded, already running towards his bike.

“My place. I’ve got him sedated.”

“On route.” Dick gunned the bike for all it was worth and sped the length of Gotham.


“What happened?” he demanded as he climbed in Tony’s window.

Tony had a glass of something strong in hand and was nursing it like a lifeline. “He’s been acting weird.” Tony started as Dick knelt over the unconscious figure on the bed. “Playing up. I thought it was just a game at first but...”

“Tell me exactly what he said.” Nightwing demanded, looking his little brother over.

Tony went through everything he could remember and Dick’s head come up sharply at mention on the champagne. “Say that again?”

Tony shrugged. “He said something about getting a taste for it a few years back.”

“From someone who drank it off him?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Fuck!” Nightwing snarled, tossing his gloves aside. “That stupid fucking game! I warned him it was dangerous.” He paced the room angrily, peeling off his mask.

“Dick? Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Dick took two deep breaths, calming himself down. “I’m sorry Tony but the kid you’re screwing isn’t Tim. It’s Alvin.”


“Alvin Draper. Notorious art thief and general pain in the ass.”

Tony ran a hand though his hair. “Dick, I don’t know what crazy shit you’re on but I know Tim and unless this Alvin character is his factual twin with EXACTLY the same scars, none of this is making sense. Even Jarvis knows it's Tim and he’s never wrong. I should know! I programmed him.”

Dick paced some more, shaking off his costume. “I need to test something. Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Help yourself.” Tony gestured at the wardrobe. “Dick?” he started, not looking away as Dick stripped off, “Tell me what the fuck is going on. I need to know.”

“Alvin Draper is one of Tim’s aliases but it’s more than that. Alvin is a complete person. That’s the way it works. When he’s Alvin, he’s Alvin. All the way. There is no Tim.” Dick hastily dragged together an appalling, miss-matching outfit from Tony’s clothes.

“So Tim’s playing at being this Alvin character?”

“That maybe how it started but...” Dick ducked into the bathroom, slicking back his unruly hair. “If I’m right, the switch in Tim’s head has broken.” He scowled at his refection. “I warned Bruce this would happen. Tim’s not built the same. He can’t control it as well.” He glanced up at Tony. “How long till the sedative wears off?”

“About 30 seconds after you lift the patch.”

“Good.” Dick nodded. “Have another one ready if this doesn’t work.” He peeled the patch from Tim’s lower back and waited.

“What the fuck...?” Alvin mumbled, shaking his head dopily. “Bastard drugged me...”

“Kid!” Dick grabbed Tim’s chin, growling in a voice twinged with the North Jersey nasal whine. “Kid look at me. D’ya know who I am?” Tim flinched back but Dick refused to let go. “Do you know who I am?”

“Sure Robbie. You’re that prick Matches’ brother.” Alvin snapped, trying to get free but Dick’s grip was too strong, leaving bruises on the youth’s fair skin. “Tell him he’s not getting a cut this time. I find my own johns now.”

“That’s right kid. And Matches says you’re Flush. Finished. Freefall. Got it?” Dick put emphasis on the words, enunciating them with care.

Something dark flashed across Tim’s face and his look softened. “Dick...”

“I’ve got you. It’s ok.” He dropped his grip on Tim’s face, cradling the youth in his arms.

“Tony...” Tim whispered weakly.

“I’m just here.” Tony called, leaning over Dick’s shoulder. “It’s ok now.”

Dick brushed his hand gently over Tim’s face. “I want you to go to sleep now Babybird.” He guided Tim’s eyelids closed.

Tim sagged in Dick’s arms, asleep before Dick could lay him back down.

“Are you planning to explain?” Tony asked as Dick tucked the blankets around his brother.

“Other room.”

Tony walked straight to the wet bar and pour two stiff drinks, ignoring the open bottle of champagne.

“Thanks.” Dick sipped the whiskey slowly as Tony sat down on the coach next to him. “Where do you want me to start?”

“The beginning would be good.” Tony mussed snarkly.

Dick sighed. “Matches Malone was a small time crook. Arson and insurance mostly. When he died Bruce took him on as a persona to infiltrate the crime gangs of Gotham. And he was good. Too good. Most of the time you would never know they were the same person.” He took a slow sip of his drink. “Tim wanted to learn. Going undercover is a big part of what we do but... I don’t know. Bruce's been three people for a long time, He was use to juggling personalities but Tim...there were time he started to lose himself.”

“Three people?” Tony asked.

Dick shrugged. “I guess it’s something you don’t have worry about. You and Ironman are the same person but for those of us who hiding our real identities – the mask and the person under it become slightly different. With Bruce, he has to be millionaire playboy Brucie Wayne as well as Batman.”

“And Tim?”

“Tim wanted to learn and Bruce taught him.” Dick sighed. “They use to play this god-awful game to practice staying in character. Tim would catch the train as Alvin, Matches would pick him up and lure him into a car for Brucie to seduce.”

“Oh god. They did that?” Tony shot back his drink and grabbed another. “That’s fucked up!”

“Yeah! I don’t think Bruce knew but some of Tim’s first sexual experiences were as Alvin.” Dick head shot up. “Oh shit!” He got up and prowled the floor, rubbing his eyes. “That’s what triggered it.

“What?” Tony followed him up.

“You...this....” Dick muttered desperately, burying his face in his hands. “Oh god! If Tim was feeling insecure about your relationship, he might well let Alvin steer. Oh crap.”

Tony took a step back. “I did this to him?”

“No! God no.” Dick ran his hand over Tony’s shoulders. “This isn’t your fault Tony. Not by a long shot. Tim’s just gone the wrong way about dealing.” He flopped down onto the couch, his head thrown back. “Fuck! This is a mess.”

Tony sat down carefully, trying to process every at once. “But he’s ok now? You flipped the switch back?”

“No.” Dick pushed back his hair. “I used a set of safewords we use in the field. Flush, Finished, Freefall indicated the op is over and it’s safe to drop out of character. I took a gamble that they’d work like hypnotic triggers but there’s no guarantee they’ll work again. If Tim can’t control it without someone else to override it... it’s tantamount to multiple personality disorder.”

“Oh god.” Tony sighed. “I’ve made him schizophrenic.”

Dick rested a hand on Tony’s thigh. “This isn’t your fault. I warned Bruce years ago that this sort of deep cover wasn’t safe for Tim. His own self-identity can be fragile at times and we’ve nearly lost him to Robin more than once.”

“What do we do?” Tony asked quietly, lost and angry.

“I take Tim home and look after him. Then I beat the living crap out of Bruce for breaking Tim’s brain. After that...I don’t know.” He slumped forward, his head between his knees. “I’m sorry Tony. You’re really good for Tim but...I'll need the keep him for a while. He won't be able to see you till he's fully recovered.”

Tony leant over and pulled Dick into a hug, placing a kiss on the top of the young man’s head. “Look after him. Call me if there is anything I can do.”

As the door closed behind Dick, Tim asleep in his arms, Tony hit the bar and started drinking till there was nothing left but the champagne.

As the bottle exploded against the wall, shards of glass showering the room, Tony curled up in a ball and wept.

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September 2017


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