Fic: More than complicated
Jun. 20th, 2010 08:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
munninTitle: More than complicated
Author: Munnin
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jason & Tim and Nolanverse!Bruce & Alfred with mentions of Dick
Fandom:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alexiel_neesan’s We Will Never Save The World: The Dark Knight. Read it first or this will make no sense.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the busted couch on which I write.
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t.
‘lexiel made me cry on public transport. I’ve tried to capture why but I’m not sure I can.
Bruce looked up from his work as Robin and J came roaring into the cave, their bikes moving in perfect harmony.
The younger man pulled his bike up sharp, the red Ducati’s wheels squealing on the concrete. Even before Tim flipped his visor up, Bruce could tell something was wrong.
Jason threw off his helmet as Robin stormed across the cave. “Tim! Tim stop!” He tried to catch the young man’s arm but Tim struggled.
“Get off me.” Tim growled, landing a solid punch to Jason’s solar-plexus to fend him off.
Jason gasped, badly winded as he clutched at his Bat-emblemed jacket. “Tim, come on!”
“No Jason. Just don’t.” Tim shoved him hard, forcing the older man away from him. “I can’t....” There were tears glistening behind his mask “Not now...not today.” He turned on his heels and headed for the door.
In his haste Tim stumbled and Bruce reached out, meaning to catch the youth. “Tim?”
Tim flinched away from his touch. “No.” The boy growled, “Not you.”
Bruce let him go, watching as the young man stormed towards the elevator.
Jason sighed, dumping his helmet on the bench and shucking his jacket. “Fuck!” he muttered under his breath.
“Everything ok?” Bruce asked as the older youth paced the floor.
“Not even fucking close.” Jason growled, running his hands though his hair as he tossed his cowl.
“Anything I can do?” Bruce asked solicitously, stepping closer to J.
Jason had to fight to suppress the desire to punch Bruce in the face as he got too close. “Nar.” He shook it off. “It’s a family thing.”
“I want to help.” Bruce insisted, fronting up to Jason, his shoulders squared. “I know he doesn’t trust me but-”
Jason shrugged. “He wants to B, he really does.” He jumped up and sat on the bench, stealing a sandwich from Bruce’s tray. He toyed with it a bit before throwing it back down. “Robins needs Batman, that’s just how we work.”
Bruce crossed his arms, his eyebrow inched up but he said nothing. He wanted to understand how these boys worked, he wanted to know their world but neither of them were ready to open up. “But I’m not his Batman.”
Jason chuckled, deep and sardonic. “That you ain’t.” He jumped down and started to put his gear away. “You’re too short from a start.”
Bruce shrugged it off. Picking on his height was Jason’s favourite joke but he could tell it was a diversion. “It has to do with Dick doesn’t it?” Bruce asked, holding his ground as Jason spun around on him. “Who was he?”
Jason took a deep breath, trying to slow his fighter’s instinct.
“You guys are tight, I get that but...” Bruce inched closer to level with Jason. “Look I care ok? About you both. I want to help.”
Jason stepped back, running his hand though his hair again. He finished off his post patrol routine, his back to Bruce. “Dick is...was...the big brother of the family.” Jason said slowly, kicking his boots under the counter. “The first Robin. And Tim’s personal idol. Tomorrow’s the anniversary of his death.”
Bruce dropped his head, nodding slowly. “What do you need?”
“Time.” Jason shrugged. “We won’t be patrolling tomorrow night. And we’re taking the bikes.”
“Got it.” Bruce watched the young man’s face. “Need Alfred to pack you anything?”
Jason snorted, patting Bruce’s shoulder as he passed. “You’re a good bloke Wayne.” He pressed the button for the lift.
“You said we.” Bruce called observantly as the doors opened. “That’s how we work.”
Jason shot him a dark look over his shoulder. “I died as Robin. Just didn’t come back that way.”
***
Alfred had a mug of tea and a troubled expression waiting for Bruce when he came up to the penthouse a couple of hours later.
“Are the boys alright?” Bruce asked, taking the mug with a grateful nod.
Alfred scowled. “Master Timothy seems somewhat distressed. I believe Master Jason is now spending the evening in the couch.”
“Oh.”
“Oh indeed.” Alfred said darkly. “Perhaps you would consider talking to him.”
“Tim or Jason?”
Alfred gave him a withering look and shoved a plate of oatmeal cookies, Tim’s favourite, into his hand.
“You win.” Bruce conceded.
***
He found Tim curled up in the window-seat of his room. The youth didn’t acknowledge his presence but he did take a cookie when Bruce put the plate down next to his hand.
Bruce sat on the floor, his back braced against the wall near Tim’s feet and reached up to for a cookie of his own. “What was he like?” He asked quietly after long moments of silence. “Your brother.”
Tim sniffed quietly. “Graceful, beautiful...the most honourable man I’ve ever...” he broke off, his voice cracking. “I loved him.”
Bruce reached up and took Tim’s hand, squeezing it gently. He had nothing to give the youth. He’d seen the flatness in Tim’s eyes, the death of hope the day he gave up looking for a way home and there was nothing he could do to change that. “I’m sorry.” he started, unsure what else to say.
Tim returned the squeeze and pulled away, hiccupping quietly.
Bruce followed him up, pulling the young man into his arms without thinking. Tim clung to him, the young man’s tears leaving dark stains on his shirt. The tiniest sob welled up on Tim’s throat and Bruce tightened his grip, tucking Tim’s head against his chest, rocking him gently.
Bruce dropped a kiss to the top of the young man’s head, stroking his dark hair. He had no words of comfort. His own father’s words about falling and getting back up seemed trite. It seemed like Tim had fallen too many times already
Jason shifted in the doorway, crossing the room to sit beside them on the narrow window seat. He ran his hand down Tim’s back. “We can keep looking babybird, if that’s what you want? We’ll find way home.”
“No.” Tim moved from Bruce to Jason, letting himself be folded into Jason’s arms. “We won’t.”
“Then make this your home.” Bruce said quietly, letting his hand rest on Tim’s shoulder, his fingers brushing over Jason’s.
"We have to."Tim shuddered, his face buried in Jason’s throat. “What choice do we have?”
Author: Munnin
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Jason & Tim and Nolanverse!Bruce & Alfred with mentions of Dick
Fandom:
alexiel_neesan’s We Will Never Save The World: The Dark Knight. Read it first or this will make no sense. Disclaimer: I own nothing but the busted couch on which I write.
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t.
‘lexiel made me cry on public transport. I’ve tried to capture why but I’m not sure I can.
Bruce looked up from his work as Robin and J came roaring into the cave, their bikes moving in perfect harmony.
The younger man pulled his bike up sharp, the red Ducati’s wheels squealing on the concrete. Even before Tim flipped his visor up, Bruce could tell something was wrong.
Jason threw off his helmet as Robin stormed across the cave. “Tim! Tim stop!” He tried to catch the young man’s arm but Tim struggled.
“Get off me.” Tim growled, landing a solid punch to Jason’s solar-plexus to fend him off.
Jason gasped, badly winded as he clutched at his Bat-emblemed jacket. “Tim, come on!”
“No Jason. Just don’t.” Tim shoved him hard, forcing the older man away from him. “I can’t....” There were tears glistening behind his mask “Not now...not today.” He turned on his heels and headed for the door.
In his haste Tim stumbled and Bruce reached out, meaning to catch the youth. “Tim?”
Tim flinched away from his touch. “No.” The boy growled, “Not you.”
Bruce let him go, watching as the young man stormed towards the elevator.
Jason sighed, dumping his helmet on the bench and shucking his jacket. “Fuck!” he muttered under his breath.
“Everything ok?” Bruce asked as the older youth paced the floor.
“Not even fucking close.” Jason growled, running his hands though his hair as he tossed his cowl.
“Anything I can do?” Bruce asked solicitously, stepping closer to J.
Jason had to fight to suppress the desire to punch Bruce in the face as he got too close. “Nar.” He shook it off. “It’s a family thing.”
“I want to help.” Bruce insisted, fronting up to Jason, his shoulders squared. “I know he doesn’t trust me but-”
Jason shrugged. “He wants to B, he really does.” He jumped up and sat on the bench, stealing a sandwich from Bruce’s tray. He toyed with it a bit before throwing it back down. “Robins needs Batman, that’s just how we work.”
Bruce crossed his arms, his eyebrow inched up but he said nothing. He wanted to understand how these boys worked, he wanted to know their world but neither of them were ready to open up. “But I’m not his Batman.”
Jason chuckled, deep and sardonic. “That you ain’t.” He jumped down and started to put his gear away. “You’re too short from a start.”
Bruce shrugged it off. Picking on his height was Jason’s favourite joke but he could tell it was a diversion. “It has to do with Dick doesn’t it?” Bruce asked, holding his ground as Jason spun around on him. “Who was he?”
Jason took a deep breath, trying to slow his fighter’s instinct.
“You guys are tight, I get that but...” Bruce inched closer to level with Jason. “Look I care ok? About you both. I want to help.”
Jason stepped back, running his hand though his hair again. He finished off his post patrol routine, his back to Bruce. “Dick is...was...the big brother of the family.” Jason said slowly, kicking his boots under the counter. “The first Robin. And Tim’s personal idol. Tomorrow’s the anniversary of his death.”
Bruce dropped his head, nodding slowly. “What do you need?”
“Time.” Jason shrugged. “We won’t be patrolling tomorrow night. And we’re taking the bikes.”
“Got it.” Bruce watched the young man’s face. “Need Alfred to pack you anything?”
Jason snorted, patting Bruce’s shoulder as he passed. “You’re a good bloke Wayne.” He pressed the button for the lift.
“You said we.” Bruce called observantly as the doors opened. “That’s how we work.”
Jason shot him a dark look over his shoulder. “I died as Robin. Just didn’t come back that way.”
***
Alfred had a mug of tea and a troubled expression waiting for Bruce when he came up to the penthouse a couple of hours later.
“Are the boys alright?” Bruce asked, taking the mug with a grateful nod.
Alfred scowled. “Master Timothy seems somewhat distressed. I believe Master Jason is now spending the evening in the couch.”
“Oh.”
“Oh indeed.” Alfred said darkly. “Perhaps you would consider talking to him.”
“Tim or Jason?”
Alfred gave him a withering look and shoved a plate of oatmeal cookies, Tim’s favourite, into his hand.
“You win.” Bruce conceded.
***
He found Tim curled up in the window-seat of his room. The youth didn’t acknowledge his presence but he did take a cookie when Bruce put the plate down next to his hand.
Bruce sat on the floor, his back braced against the wall near Tim’s feet and reached up to for a cookie of his own. “What was he like?” He asked quietly after long moments of silence. “Your brother.”
Tim sniffed quietly. “Graceful, beautiful...the most honourable man I’ve ever...” he broke off, his voice cracking. “I loved him.”
Bruce reached up and took Tim’s hand, squeezing it gently. He had nothing to give the youth. He’d seen the flatness in Tim’s eyes, the death of hope the day he gave up looking for a way home and there was nothing he could do to change that. “I’m sorry.” he started, unsure what else to say.
Tim returned the squeeze and pulled away, hiccupping quietly.
Bruce followed him up, pulling the young man into his arms without thinking. Tim clung to him, the young man’s tears leaving dark stains on his shirt. The tiniest sob welled up on Tim’s throat and Bruce tightened his grip, tucking Tim’s head against his chest, rocking him gently.
Bruce dropped a kiss to the top of the young man’s head, stroking his dark hair. He had no words of comfort. His own father’s words about falling and getting back up seemed trite. It seemed like Tim had fallen too many times already
Jason shifted in the doorway, crossing the room to sit beside them on the narrow window seat. He ran his hand down Tim’s back. “We can keep looking babybird, if that’s what you want? We’ll find way home.”
“No.” Tim moved from Bruce to Jason, letting himself be folded into Jason’s arms. “We won’t.”
“Then make this your home.” Bruce said quietly, letting his hand rest on Tim’s shoulder, his fingers brushing over Jason’s.
"We have to."Tim shuddered, his face buried in Jason’s throat. “What choice do we have?”
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Date: 2010-08-29 02:00 am (UTC)