Batman oneshot
Title: How to Save a Life
Author: Reyn
Word Count: 988
Characters: Tim, Bruce, Damian, and Dick.
Rating: safe
Summary: A Batfam fic! In which Tim gets teased because he doesn’t have the moves like Jagger. Or something.
How to Save a Life
“Tim.”
The deep, gravelly voice caused Tim to freeze in his creeping towards the stairs. He even went as far as to close his eyes with a silent groan as Damian’s overly gleeful face swiveled around at Bruce’s alert to reveal a particularly malicious grin.
“Grayson!” Damian called out from his father’s side. “Drake’s home!”
Oh God, even Dick wanted to sit in on this? Resigning himself to his fate, Tim trudged over to the cave’s forensic area.
“Yeah, Bruce?” He knew there was no point in trying for nonchalance, but he did it anyway.
Straightening up from the bit of evidence he was examining, Bruce plucked what looked like a severed toe out of Damian’s hand and placed it on a tray.
“A police report came in earlier ordering all cops on patrol to keep a lookout for Red Robin.” Bruce crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the table. “Any idea as to why?”
Tim winced. “If I said no, would it help push forward the idea that I believe my intentions were nothing but innocent?”
Damian’s bark of laughter didn’t quite mask the sound of Dick pushing himself down the pathway toward them on one of the rolling desk chairs that were kept lying around in the cave.
“God doesn’t like liars, Timmy,” Dick’s voice echoed slightly as his hand gripped a table corner, pulling himself both into the work station and conversation.
“I’m starting to feel like this is Pick On Tim Day…”
“I can make the necessary arrangements to bring such a holiday into existence,” Damian helpfully put in, having recovered from the denial of his toe and now twirling a scalpel between his fingers.
“We’re not trying to pick on you,” Bruce pacified, placing a restraining hand on Damian’s shoulder. “We’re simply mildly concerned as to why Gotham’s P.D. is under the impression that you assaulted a young woman.”
Tim’s movements were agitated as he carded his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t assault her! I was saving her life!”
“By ripping her clothes off?” Dick and Damian exchanged matching looks of amusement at the perfect synchronization of their voices.
Even Bruce raised an eyebrow at that, and Tim couldn’t help but bitterly wonder if such an occurrence was somewhat common back when they were they dynamic duo.
“I didn’t rip her clothes off!” Tim glanced between them before settling on glaring at the younger one.
It was a bit unnerving how much Damian looked like Bruce when he cocked an eyebrow, even if his look was so much more skeptical than his father’s.
“Okay, yes, I ripped her clothes off,” Tim amended. “But it wasn’t for some depraved sex act! It was to save her life!”
Damian’s lips parted, fully ready to deliver some sarcastic retort, but was stopped as the hand on his shoulder gave a warning squeeze, causing his mouth to snap shut with a scowl.
“What happened?” Bruce asked patiently.
Tim shrugged. “Tetch created a fairly aggressive line of nanobots. A handful escaped before I could fully shut down the operation.”
“An EMP blast didn’t work?”
“I…didn’t have one available.” The look Bruce leveled him made Tim feel like he had just made a rookie mistake and he looked down ashamedly.
“So instead, you…” Bruce took a moment to type into one of the holographic screens and pulled up a copy of the police report. “Tackled her to the ground, told her, ‘Sorry, but this is necessary.’ and proceeded to tear her clothes off.” His eyes slid back to his ward. “Violently.”
Tim winced. It sounded pretty bad when put into a clinical perspective.
“I could go and apologize to her?” he offered hopefully. “Properly?”
Dick whistled lowly and shook his head. “Bad idea, Tim. You probably traumatized her and showing up on her windowsill, or even her doorstep, will just freak her out more. Here.” He lifted up slightly from his seat and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small, handheld device and passed it off to Tim. “A portable EMP. Good for one blast. I suggest finding a way to attach it to your suit and then write the poor girl an apology letter. Maybe send her flowers or something as well.”
“Aren’t you just the regular Love Doctor.” Damian’s voice was dripping with contempt.
Personally, Tim thought Dick’s advice was fairly sound.
“I don’t think Tim is really a flowers kind of man.”
Three sets of eyes turned to stare at Bruce, who seemed to be appraising his middle son.
Dick snorted. “Who died and made you the expert on…” He trailed off at the leveled look he was fixed with. “I formally retract my question.”
“So…no flowers?” Tim asked.
“No apologies,” Bruce growled. “We don’t do apologies. Arrange a meeting with Commissioner Gordon to prevent your evidence, explain the situation, and clear your name.” His attention moved back to his work, a clear indication that he felt this talk was over.
“That’s stupid.” Damian placed his fists on his hips and frowned at Bruce. “Technically this is all Jarvis Tetch’s fault.” He looked back at Tim. “I say he pays Tetch a visit, roughs him up a lot, drops him off at this girl’s doorstep, and let him do the apologizing.”
“Jarvis is already back in Arkham, Damian,” Bruce dismissed as he peered into a microscope.
“So?”
Dick and Tim exchanged a smile.
“Right. I’m going to go shower and head up-…” Tim trailed off at the serious stares he was suddenly receiving. “Or just put my suit right back on and go talk to Commissioner Gordon.” He turned on his heel and began making his way back down to the lockers.
“Don’t forget to mention that it wasn’t a depraved act of sex!”
“Maybe give Gordon the flowers to give to the girl! This way they won’t technically be from ‘us’.”
Tim sighed. Sometimes he missed being an only child.
The End.