fic: The One on the Outside

[munnin]

Title: The One on the Outside.
Pairing: Tim Drake/Bernard Dowd, some light Dick Grayson/Tim Drake implied.
Rating: PG-13ish
Word count: 5274.
Warnings: Slash.
Disclaimer: All fun, no cash.
Author’s notes: I fall at my knees before faile_neume who suffers my madness and keeps me pointed in the right direction.

Summary: Sequel to Twisted Truth – Bernard may not be getting the full story but what he is getting is confusing enough.

Tim kick-started the Ducati, feeling his ribs protest loudly. Hate broken ribs. He thought as he dropped the clutch. They take so long to heal. And worse, Bruce benched him at least till the bruising faded which wouldn’t be quick. Ten days since he’d have the shit kicked out of him and his whole left side was still black and yellow. And it still hurt to breathe too deep. Maybe he’d call Alfred, get him to go over the x-rays again.

He meant to talk to Bernard today too but after missing so many days of class Tim was flat-out just trying to catch up. But Oracle was right – Bernard was a good friend and he deserved an explanation...of some kind. Tim still wasn’t sure what he was going to tell his blond friend but judging from the notes O had lifted from his journal – the old ski-trip lie wasn’t going to cover it.

As he kicked back the stand and eased out of the carpark he realised his attention should have been on the road and not his cover. A car pulled out without checking and nearly hit him. Tim had to lock up the brakes and pull the whole bike sidewise to avoid connecting. The sudden jolt jammed him into the tank, his injured side burning with pain.

***

Bernard was getting into his car, wondering if Tim was intentionally avoiding him when he heard a muffled cry and looked up in time to see Tim’s Ducati fall sideways, taking the rider with it. He sprinted across the pavement, grabbing the bike and trying to haul it off his friend but the Duc was way too heavy for him.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up into the face of Tim’s creepy/handsome stalker guy. “I’ll get this. You get Tim.” As Bernard scrambled to check on Tim, the guy lifted the bike with disgusting ease.

“Drake? Drake! Talk to me!” Bernard had hold of Tim’s hand, first-aid savvy enough to know not to move him yet. “Where are you hurt? Can you feel your legs?”

“Ouch.” Tim muttered darkly, squeezing Bernard’s hand back. “I’m ok. I just...”

He started to sit up but the guy reached across to hold him down. “Go slow babybird. I’m going to check you for injures.”

“Dick? Fuck.” Tim cursed, lying back down and staying still as Dick’s hand’s moved smoothly and nimbly over his body in a way that was far too familiar for Bernard’s taste. “I thought I told you- ”

“To stay away from you at school. Yep, got that message but I paid as much attention to that as you did to take it easy.” He moved up Tim’s chest but Bernard blocked his way as Tim whimpered.

For a moment they locked eyes in mutual challenge but it was Tim who broke them up. “S’ok Bernard. He’s ... he’s my brother.”

“You don’t have any siblings Tim.” Bernard flatly, his eyes still locked with Dick’s. “You’re an only child. I don’t know what he’s brainwashed you to think but anyone who hurts you that badly has no right to call themselves family.”

Dick and Tim both snorted a laugh, painfully in Tim’s case, with the irony that comment.

“I trust him.” Tim assured.

“Well I don’t.” Bernard replied darkly, but he moved back to let Dick return to his examinations.

“Thank you. I think.” Dick muttered, unzipping Tim’s jacket to run his hands over the young man’s ribs. Tim hissed through his teeth, squeezing Bernard’s hands painfully tight. “Congratulations babybird. You’ve re-broken them. Well done.”

“Gee thanks.” Tim growled sarcastically. He tried to sit up but the pain made his head swim. Both Bernard and Dick reached to hold him still.

Dick glanced at Bernard and back to Tim “And you wonder why he thinks you’re a masochist?”

“Bite me.” Tim hissed, struggling against both their grips.

“Not in polite company.” Dick replied blithely. “But later maybe. After I’ve doped you to the eyeballs with painkillers and re-strapped your ribs. Alfred isn’t home till later so x-rays will have to wait. Till then, you’re coming home with me.” Dick stood up, hands out to help Tim up but Bernard got in the way.

“Back off! He’s not going anywhere with you.” Bernard said, sounding far braver than he felt. Up close the guy was well muscled and strong enough to pick up the Duc without breaking a sweat but Tim was his friend and he wasn’t letting him go anywhere with this jerk. “He may trust you but I don’t. I’m taking him to the hospital.”

“No.” To Bernard’s surprise, the protest came from Tim. “I can’t go to the hospital. Not just yet.” He pulled his friend back down to him with a gentle tug of his hand. “I’m not that badly hurt and Dick knows how to deal with this sort of thing. I know this doesn’t make much sense right now but,” without thinking he reached up to brush his gloved fingers over Bernard’s cheek, “I need you to trust me. Please.”

Bernard caught Tim caressing hand, fighting not to bring it to his lips. “I do. I do trust you but I don’t trust him. I can’t...you can’t disappear on me again Drake.”

Dick’s hand was gently on Bernard’s shoulder, his smile soft. This kid really did care for Tim, deeper than either of them knew. “Is your place nearby?”

They lifted Tim carefully into the back of Bernard’s car and drove the dozen or so blocks, Dick following on his bike.

“My folks are away so...” Bernard led the way to the guest bedroom, watchful as Dick laid Tim down, helping him out of his jacket.

“Cool. That makes life easier.” Dick muttered, rifling through the bag he had slung over his shoulder. “What have you got in the way of elastic bandages?”

“I’ll check.” As he hunted though the medicine cabinet, Bernard suddenly felt horribly nervous. He’d just told the guy they were alone in the house and he could have anything in that bag...a gun, a knife...anything.

Tim’s voice, sharp and stressed, travelled down the hall and Bernard bolted back.

“I don’t need it Dick!” Tim’s shirt was gone and his chest was a mottled patchwork of scars and bruising. “I can handle it.”

“Babybird! You just re-broke three ribs! At least take something for the pain.”

“He doesn’t have to take anything he doesn’t want to.” Bernard announced, putting himself between Dick and Tim. “You can’t force anything on him.”

Dick chuckled cheerlessly, grinning at Tim. “Now I get why you like him. Fine. You win. Suffer in silence then.” He grabbed the bandages and carefully strapped Tim’s chest as Tim held Bernard’s hand, clenching convulsively. By the time he was finished, Tim was pale and shocky, his hand clammy and cold in Bernard’s.

Dick laid Tim back down; helping him shed his boots before pulling a blanket up over him. “I’ll be back Babybird. You just rest.” He nodded to Bernard to follow him as Tim’s head lolled against the pillow.

Dick leant against the wall outside the room, chewing on his thumbnail. “He isn’t healing well.” He mused, almost to himself.

“He shouldn’t be hurt in the first place.” Bernard spat.

Dick tilted his head to look at the youth, almost as tall as him despite the difference in their ages. “No you’re right but...” Whatever thought followed that got lost before it reached his mouth. “I’m gonna go pick his bike up and let his folks know he’s ok. Jack won’t mind if he’s out late but Dana will be worrying. Is it cool if he stays here for a while? I’d hate to move him just yet.”

“He’s my friend. Of course it’s cool.” Bernard sniped, still unsure how to deal with this guy.

Dick stared at him with earnest curiosity and smiled. “I’m glad he has a friend like you. Back in an hour or so, I’ll pick up pizza on the way.” Dick headed down the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Oh, can you try and get him to take something for the pain. Anything, please?”

Tim’s eyes were closed by the time Bernard tiptoed back into the guest room. “He’s gone. You’re safe now.” He whispered as he perched on the bedside table.

The corner of Tim’s mouth twisted up in a half smile and he reached out for Bernard’s hand.

Bernard took it, shifting onto the edge of the bed to entwine their fingers. It was a strangely relaxed gesture despite the fact, before today, Tim was always so skittish about being touched. “Not that I don’t appreciate it but...” Tim started blearily, groaning as he shifted to get comfortable, “I was never in much danger.”

“But that guy? He hurt you.” Bernard blurted, too confused.

Tim laugh, grimacing as his ribs pulled. “He didn’t do this Bernard. I wasn’t watching where I was going and dropped the bike on myself.”

“But before that? The first time. What happened there?”

Tim let out a long pained sigh, finally opening his eyes. They were bloodshot and hazy and Bernard remembered the guy’s comment about getting painkillers into Tim. “I’m not...” Tim stammered, wincing as he breathed, “I can’t talk about it. Not yet.” He pulled Bernard’s hand to his cheek, pressing against his palm like a cat. “Please just trust me Bernard.”

“You scare me Drake.” Bernard rubbed his thumb over Tim’s pale skin. “You have too many secrets.”

“I thought you liked secrets?” Tim teased.

“Yeah,” Bernard grinned, “When I know them and no-one else does. They’re no fun the other way round.” Tim’s laugh turned into a groan and Bernard brushed his fingers over Tim’s forehead comfortingly till the pain passed. As much as he hated agreeing with the guy, seeing Tim like this was heartbreaking. “If I get you something to help, will you take it?”

Tim smiled tiredly. “Somehow I know mixing you and Dick was a bad idea.”

“That’s not a no.”

“No, it’s not.”

Tim dry swallowed the pills Bernard brought him and let the grogginess roll over him. “Thank you.” He slurred as they took effect.

“For what?” Bernard teased, “Saving you from the sexy stalker dude?”

Tim snorted. “That too.”

Bernard watched as the little furrow in Tim’s forehead relax and fade as Tim fell asleep.

***

Dick stood in the doorway for a good long while, watching the blond kid watch over Tim. It was terribly sweet really, how seriously this kid cared for Tim, how sharply he was willing to defend his friend. It was good; growing up Dick had few friends outside the scene and Bernard would be a great balancer to stop Tim from forgetting about the rest of the human race.

“What did you give him?” He asked quietly, noticing the slightly drugged slur to Tim’s breathing.

Bernard managed to contain the jump at Dick’s voice but only just. “A couple of Syndol. I don’t have anything stronger. Why?” He didn’t bother trying to keep the contempt at Dick’s return out of his voice.

Dick shrugged. “It’s cool. He took something at least. Come on. There’s pizza down stairs.”

“Then bring it up here, I’m not leaving him.”

Dick snorted. “He’s not going anywhere. Tim’s got pretty much no tolerance for analgesics; he’ll be knocked out for hours. Besides,” he grinned, cocking his head at Bernard, “you are dying to interrogate me.”

Flustered and annoyed, Bernard followed Dick downstairs, glowering the whole way. Why was this guy in his house? How could Tim trust this guy after everything that was done to him? Why would Tim even let this guy even touch him?

“Are you going to eat or glare?” Dick grinned up from where he sat, cross-legged on Bernard’s loungeroom floor. “Cause in my experience it’s easier to interrogate someone on a full stomach.”

The first punch was more of a surprise to Bernard that Dick. Bernard had never seen himself as the type who’d swing first. He was always the people person, the social manipulator but something about this guy...

This guy who could probably kill him with one finger but right now that didn’t matter.

Dick moved out of the way of the shot smoothly, bitting into his slice and putting it down safely before moving to catch Bernard’s fist on the return. “This isn’t necessary. Really.”

“You hurt him!” Bernard growled. “He trusts you even though you hurt him. Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Make it simple.”

Dick sighed and released Bernard’s hand. “I didn’t hurt him directly. I’ve never laid a hand on Tim on anger but because of my mistake Tim got hurt.”

“Explain.” The earnest tone in Dick’s voice was sapping the wind from Bernard’s sails. “I need to understand.”

Dick cocked his head again, an almost owlish gesture, “What has Tim told you?”

“Nothing.” Bernard muttered, sitting down on the opposite side of the pizza box. “Only that he’s not ready to talk about it.”

Dick snorted. “Some days I’m afraid he’ll never be ready.” He fiddled with his slice of pizza before setting it aside. “I shouldn’t be telling you this but... you care about him and that’s important. He needs someone...” Dick let his voice trail off, looking distant and worried. The cover had come to him after riding Tim’s bike back to the cave for safe keeping. It was interesting enough to hold Bernard’s attention, detailed enough to hold up and true enough to be easy to remember...now he just had to sell it. Tim may never forgive him...

“So what’s the deal?” Bernard demanded but the spite was gone. Whatever was going on; this guy really did care about Tim’s well being. “Who are you anyway?”

“Dick.” He grinned, holding out a pizza greasy hand. “Dick Grayson.”

Bernard goggled at him for a moment. “As in Bruce Wayne’s kid.”

“As in yes. That’s how I know Tim.”

“What? Rich brats anonymous?” The sarcasm was back in Bernard’s voice but more as a reflex than any real spite.

“Kinda yeah.” Dick took a bite of his pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “As Bruce Wayne’s kid I got... I got kidnapped...more than once.” Dick took it slow, letting it sink in. “There are plenty of bastards willing to make a buck of a rich man’s child. I got roughed up a couple of time but mostly it was bearable. Bruce always got me out, I even got rescued by Batman once but...” he took a steadying breath, drawing his knees up to his chest, “after a while it starts to mess with your head; always being the hostage. I think it would have really screwed me up if Bruce hadn't made sure I never felt like it was my fault... He taught me to be strong, to be able to defend myself and to know when not to, when to think not fight, but most importantly he taught me to live without fear and to believe in myself.”

He took another breath and uncurled himself, intentionally straightening out his posture. “It sounds corny but by the time I was fourteen I’d been kidnapped more times than I’d been kissed. It’s so easy to think...” he swallowed, “anyway, I wasn’t the only one. There were a few kids from wealthy families who suffered too. And some not so rich, it was always worse for them. Bruce set up a fund and stuff to help and I did what I could, teaching the other kids what Bruce taught me – how to live afterward.”

“So Tim...” Bernard asked, his slice of pizza half way to his mouth, rapidly cooling. “Did he...? Was he...?”

Dick ducked his head. “I don’t know. Tim never talks about what happened to him and I’ve never pushed him.” He shrugged. “Some of us kinda formed a group, like a club. We’d go out and do things together, things that reminded us we were still alive and things that scared us so we’d learn not to be afraid. Some of the kid’s folks got stressed but Bruce convinced them we were safer if we were together, it helped too...for the most part...” Dick let his gaze drop, reaching for his soda with a hand that shook ever so slightly.

“What happened?” Bernard prompted, completely engrossed.

“Bruce’s other ward Jason...he took it too far...things got out of hand...” Dick held the soda a little too tight, the can denting around his fingers. “He died.”

“I remember seeing it on the news.” As Dick put the can down, slightly crushed, Bernard realised what he was saying. “Oh shit. He was like your brother right?”

“I...didn’t know Jay very well. Things soured between Bruce and me so I’d moved out before he met Jay but it messed us both up pretty hard. Tim had never really been part of the core group, he floated around the edges watching but...after Jay died I kinda went off the rails. Tim found me and dragged me back, reminded me of what was important.” Dick scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, even the half truths hurt to remember. “Tim promised to be my wingman- he keeps me from going too far and in exchange I teach him what I know and look out for him, try and help him deal with...whatever it is Tim’s dealing with.”

“So how...?”

“The ribs? Skiing accident.”

Bernard realised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“My fault. There’s an extreme run in the Swiss Alps I wanted to do – helicopter drop at the summit, 60^o downhill, pure adrenalin. Tim was worried about the weather and wanted to postpone but I had to hit it and in the end he agreed to come just to keep me out of trouble.” Dick let out a pained sigh. “We caught the edge of an avalanche. All things considered we were lucky but...” he was shaking for real now, remembering the alleyway and Robin’s broken form folded over the stone retaining wall. “Tim hit the rocks...I couldn’t reach him in time.”

“Shit.” Bernard muttered, watching Dick’s hands as the older man fought to still them. “That’s why you came to see him at the school.”

“I was so worried. I knew he wouldn’t give himself a chance to heal. We do dumb shit all the time, bumps and bruises, the occasional break but this was...bad. And my fault.”

Bernard stared at the half eaten pizza for a long moment. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because Tim won’t. He’ll keep it hidden till trying to find out his secret drives you to despair and then he’ll push you away just to try to protect you. It’s not safe; the things we do, the things we’re into but it’s better than the alternatives.”

“I want to help.” Bernard stated, looking up at Dick with determined eyes.

Dick smiled, reaching out to touch resolutely set of Bernard’s jaw. “Be his person in the outside. It’s like being addicted – you have to have someone outside the scene, someone who reminds you what it means to be normal. Be that for him.” He unfolded his legs and stood up, painfully graceful. “I should look in on him before I go. I’ve arranged for our friend Alfred to pick him up in the morning and take him for x-rays. If we do it privately no-one starts worrying Tim being abused.”

Bernard dropped his face and blushed, realising he’d thought the same. He followed Dick back up to Tim’s room, hanging in the doorway this time. He didn’t completely trust this guy but...it was harder to think that he’d hurt Tim intentionally.

“Hey Babybird.” Dick whispered, perching on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to head off, leave you to Bernard’s tender mercies.”

Sleepily Tim poked his tongue out at Dick, the slightest grin curling his lips at the teasing.

“Your bike’s at my place but Alfred’ll pick you up in the morning.” Dick palmed something out of his pocket and slipped it into Tim’s hand, pressing their joined fingers to the mattress as he leant in to kiss Tim softly.

Tim opened his mouth to protest and Dick took advantage, deepening the kiss a little. Almost against his wishes, Tim moaned, his drug-hazed reflexes too slow to fend Dick off with more than a weak shove as the older man sucked lightly on his lower lip.

Bernard grabbed Dick’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Let go of him.” He growled.

Dick let himself be dragged out of the room, stifling his defensive instincts as Bernard pushed him against the wall.

“How dare you!” Bernard hissed, “How can you call yourself his friend when you pull shit like that? If you really knew him as well as you claim to you’d know Drake doesn’t like to be touched. Just ‘cause he seems to let you doesn’t give you the right to...” he trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it.

“That’s exactly why I do it.” Dick said gently, not rising to Bernard’s indignant rage. “Tim needs to be touch, he needs to be kissed. It’s the only way to help him get over his fear of it.”

Bernard’s eyes flashed violently. “So you’re fucking him for his own good? Is that it?” He pushed his arm across Dick’s throat, pinning him against the wall but Dick made no effort to defend himself, simply resting his hands on Bernard’s hips. His lack of reaction only seemed to piss Bernard off more. “Is that what you were doing in the alley near the school?”

“So that was you watching us. Thought as much.” Dick nodded thoughtfully against Bernard’s pinning arm. “I’m glad you were looking out for him but I needed to check him, see how he was healing.”

“Is that what you call it? How many times have you ‘checked his health’ against his will?”

Dick finally snapped, sick of this game and spun them around, pressing Bernard to the wall with ease. “Never! I would never to anything to Tim he didn’t want. And for the record I have never fucked him either! And I never would unless he asked me to.” He took a deep breath and relaxing his hold on Bernard. “Don’t you get it? I love Tim, I always will. While he wants me in his life I will do everything I can to help him deal...” He glanced away, covering the hurt in his eyes. “Tim needs people who are willing to show him the love he deserves.” He pushed away from Bernard and headed towards the door. “If you care for him,” he called over his shoulder, “You’ll do the same.”

Bernard fell down on the top step, head in hands and breathing hard as the front door slammed.

Fuck! He swore at himself. Not only had he pissed off Tim scary-strong friend, he’d just pretty much accused the guy of raping Tim. This Dick had no problem at all pinning Bernard against the wall and it probability wouldn’t have taken much more to throw him through it had Dick chosen to. Fuck!

And the argument was loud enough that Tim must have heard. Bernard scrubbed his hand over his eyes. He was going to have to face Tim sooner or later.

Tim was asleep when Bernard looked in on him, his head lolling against the pillows, his eyes closed and his lip slightly swollen. For the first time since Bernard had meet him Tim looked genuinely relaxed. “I’m sorry dude.” He whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Think I pissed off your friend.”

Tim snuffled in his sleep, moving to roll onto his injured side. Bernard reached out, catching Tim’s shoulder before the youth had a chance to put too much weight on his broken ribs.

Tim hissed painfully as Bernard pushed him gently back down.

“Take it easy Drake.” Bernard muttered quietly. “I don’t like that friend of yours and I don’t want him putting me through a wall ‘cause you’re worse in the morning.”

“I’ll kick his ass for trying.” Tim slurred, coming to slowly.

“Sure Drake.” Bernard grinned. “Like I’m going to hide behind a little guy like you, with broken ribs and all. You’d be real helpful in a fight.”

“I play dirty.” Tim replied, smiling tightly. “Dick knows that.”

Bernard’s look went dark.

“He’s not that bad really.” Tim started slowly. “He comes off as bit of a lech sometimes-”

“A bit?’ Bernard snorted. “Dude was all over you.”

“It’s just the way he is.” Tim’s head dropped to one side, his eyes shooting open as he jerked forward, tried to stop himself from falling asleep again.

“Give up Drake. You need the rest.” Bernard reached out, meaning to brush the hair out of Tim’s eyes but hesitated. What he said to Dick was true – Tim didn’t like to be touched.

“You’re right.” Tim met him half way, closing his hand around Bernard. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Does it involve dealing with that asshole?” Bernard meant it jokingly but the spite was there.

“No. My mp3 player? I think it’s in my bag.” Tim gave a helpless little shrug as much for show. “I sleep better with music.”

“Sure.” Bernard raced out to the garage to grab Tim’s bag from where it still sat on the floor of his car and fishing around in the top pocket for the player he’d seen Tim stash there. It was sleek and black and far fancier that even Bernard’s top-of-the-line iPod.

Tim took it gratefully, unwinding the headphones. “Thanks Bernard.”

“Anything for you Drake.” Bernard smiled, only half teasing. “Now get some sleep.”

Tim plugged the buds into his ears, palming the tiny recorder Dick had slipped him from under the pillow and pushed it into the slot. As much as he wanted to sleep he needed to know what Dick had fed poor Bernard.

As he turned off the player, all Tim could think was ‘Bastard’.

***

Tim woke up slowly, the residual effect of the drugs making him feel groggy and heavy.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” Bernard smiled down at him from his perch on the dresser. “Breakfast?”

“Coffee?” Tim tried.

“’Course.” He slipped off the dresser and edged closer. “How ya feeling?”

Tim smiled grimly, running a hand over his bandaged rids. “Like I’m dumb enough to drop a bike on myself.”

“Or go skiing with an asshole.”

Tim buried his face in his hands. “Oh shit. Dick told you about that.” He gave an exasperated little moan. “What else did he tell you?”

Bernard sat down on the edge of the bed. “He told me...enough.” The look he gave Tim was at once pitying and pained. “I worry about you Drake.”

Tim gave him the closest thing he could manage to a smile. The cover Dick came up with was nastily close to the truth in spots and Tim could just imagine the tremble in Dick’s hands when he spoke about Jason. “You shouldn’t worry Bernard. I’m ok.”

Bernard leaned in, hesitating to touch Tim despite how much he wanted to. “Why? Why do you let that prick so near to you?”

Tim reached out for Bernard, using his friend’s grip to pull himself to a sitting position.

“Dick is...” Tim closed his eyes, riding out the pain as his broken ribs throbbed, “hard to keep at arm’s length. His idea of personal space is just...a lot smaller than everyone else’s. I gave up trying to fend him off years ago.”

“You should have tried harder Drake.” Bernard growled under his breath, his fingers twitching restlessly. He clenched his hands into fists and relaxed them slowly. “I just don’t understand, why him?”

Tim shrugged, swallowing hard as he tried to stand up. For a moment he wavered, his head spinning but Bernard was beside him, an arm wrapped around his waist. “He knows me.”

“I know you. Or at least I think I’m starting to.” Bernard said, his breath hitching as Tim leant into him. “Can I...” He trailed off, fighting not to breath in the smell of Tim’s hair.

“Can you what Bernard?”

“Can I...touch you?” Bernard grimaced and looked away as Tim grinned up at him. “Hey man! At least I asked!”

Tim leaned back, letting Bernard steady him even though he’d found his footing. “Do you want to?”

“Far too fucking much.” Bernard laughed bitterly.

“Then do it.” Tim’s smile was soft as Bernard leaned in to kiss him.

It was far too easy to let Bernard take the lead, his arms tight and secure around Tim’s waist. The kiss was softer, gentler that he expected. Bernard kissed him like a rare and fragile gift that could be stolen away at any moment.

Bernard’s hands slipped easily into Tim’s hair, holding him close. “I don’t understand your life and I don’t think I want to but...” He cupped Tim’s cheek, “I want to help. Any way I can.”

“You are.” Tim smiled. “More than you know.”

The doorbell broke them apart and Tim ducked his head. “That’ll be Alfred. I should...” he glanced around the room, looking for his shirt.

Bernard grabbed it from under the bed and passed it to him. “I should maybe...” He gestured for the door. “You be right to get down the stairs?”

“I’ll be fine.” Tim assured him. “Go. I’ll be down in a sec.”

Bernard bounced down the stairs and answered the door. Dick’s friend Alfred was nothing like he expected, not that he knew what he was expecting but an elderly, well dressed gentleman was not it.

“You must be Mr Dowd.” The man bowed slightly.

“That’d be me.” Bernard ran a hand though his tousled blond hair, suddenly feeling unbearably scruffy. “You’re Alfred right?”

The man smiled tightly and nodded. “May I inquire as to Master Timothy’s disposition this morning?”

“I’m fine Alfred.” Tim called, leaning heavily on the handrail. “I’ll be ready to go in a sec.”

“Very good.” Alfred tipped his hat to Bernard and returned to the waiting car.

“Master Timothy?” Bernard demanded, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously man? What’s the deal?”

“He’s the Wayne’s butler and a good friend. He keeps an eye out for us all.”

“Sure Drake.” Bernard grinned sardonically as he flicked his hair back out of his face. “Who wouldn’t want a friend who calls you master?”

Tim growled playfully and feigned a punch to Bernard’s arm but his ribs pulled and he hissed in pain.

“Slow down Drake.” Bernard said, dropping all pretence of playing and wrapping a steadying around Tim.

Tim let himself fall into the embrace, resting his head on Bernard’s chest. “I’m going to be away from school for a while. I doubt Dick or Alfred will let me out till I’m fully healed.”

“If that prick tries to stop you from leaving-” Bernard started but Tim cut him off.

“I’ll need someone to bring me my class work. I don’t want to fall behind.” Tim reached up, pressing a kiss on Bernard’s lips.

Startled and dazed, Bernard leaned in, letting Tim kiss him deeper. It was nothing like the soft kiss they had shared upstairs – this was hot, hard and filled with promises of things to come.

“I’ll be staying at Wayne Manor.” Tim called as he pushed away, heading for door. “I want you to visit me.”

“Why?” Bernard asked, unconsciously licking his lips to savour the lingering taste of Tim.

Tim’s smile was sharp and fleeting. “To remind me how to be normal.”

Comments

[glymr.livejournal.com]

Dick's cover story was *brilliant*. I really didn't know what they were going to tell Bernard, but when he started talking about getting kidnapped, etc, I went, "Oh, WOW."

This was sweet and fun and just a great read. Thank you so much!

[munnin-odanin.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I’m really glad you enjoyed it. I’d never written Bernard before this pair of fics and am so grateful for faile_neume’s help and support.

Thanks again for the comment.