Good Realities
This one's dedicated to ladymist, who suggested me writing how Dick & Tim 2 get together. This story can stand alone from Familiar People, but will mean something completely different depending on if you’ve read it or not.
It was late, and Tim hadn't come in from patrol yet. Dick, Bruce, and Alfred waited anxiously. Bruce continued to try and reach Robin through his comm., and Dick felt his heart twist painfully with each unanswered ring. Oracle was tracking the tracers in Robin's suit, and found them scattered in a dozen different locations. Dick clenched his fist together tightly, making his nails dig painfully into the palms of his hands. His comm. link buzzed, and he quickly answered it.
"Robin?" he asked, voice cracked and painful. Someone on the other end chuckled.
"Ah, so it seems that Batman is not the number your little Robin has on speed-dial. Whom am I speaking with?"
"Nightwing. What did you do with Robin?" He only just manages to control most of the worry from seeping into his voice, and his brain is providing him with thousands of horrible images of what could have happen to him.
"Oh, don't worry. He's alive... for now. Are you interested in seeing how long it takes before he breaks? Before he spills everything he knows about you all? From what I hear, little Robin's fairly knowledgeable about quiet a few of you, isn't he? The Titans, the League, the Outsiders... Your whole little Bat family." Dick felt his eyes prickle with tears, but focused on Bruce, who was online with Oracle and tracking the call.
"You'll never break him. If you even have him. Why should I believe you?"
"I'll let you talk to him then, you have thirty seconds."
"Robin?"
"Nightwing. You alright? Don’t worry about me, okay? Don't give them anything. Central, west of-" Dick clings to Tim’s voice, strong and brave, and trying to reassure him.
"Ah, ah, ah, that's enough now. We can't have you giving away anything."
"What do you want?" asked Nightwing, and Dick is fairly certain he’d give them anything.
"That's easy. I want the world. Unfortunately, that's nothing you can give me. However, if you stay on your best behaviour and out of my way, we might let your little brother live." Dick felt his heart pound in his throat.
"We will never agree to that," said Bruce, who had joined in, leaving Oracle to the tracking. Dick can’t let himself open his mouth, he can’t, because something stupid will come out.
"Ah, so I do get to talk to Batman after all. Are you not concerned for your little friend here?" God, more than he could possibly say. They are going to pay, they are going to pay so much, they can’t have his little brother, his Tim. His Tim.
"We will not betray the mission. Robin understands that." And Dick can’t even breathe any more, he’s so scared.
"Very well. You'll just leave him here to be tortured then?" Dick couldn't speak, he couldn’t breath, he could hardly even think. They couldn’t hurt Tim, he lov-
"Yes," said Bruce, and Dick wanted to scream.
"Very well," said the man, "you heard them Robin. They're just going to leave you here. Sure you're not going to reconsider my offer?"
"I'll never join you," they could hear Tim shout in the background, voice broken and pained but firm. Strong. So strong.
"Very well. I suppose we'll just have to convince you." There was a scream, and Dick’s heart broke. "I'll give you one last chance. Stay out of my way, and your Robin will be allowed to live after I'm finished with him."
"No," said Bruce.
"Very well. May this rest on your conscience for the rest of your life. Don't worry - it won't be long." The man hung up. It was only when the line went dead that Dick realised the sobs were coming from him.
"Nightwing," Batman said firmly. He had pulled the cowl back on.
"Batman," he said, pulling himself together. "We're going to make them pay."
"Yes. We are. They can spend the rest of their lives in Arkham. And Dick," he said with a softer glance, "try not to rough them up too much."
~
Oracle had tracked down the broadcast location, and they set out immediately, in hopes that they had not moved yet. Dick was praying to every God he’d ever heard of that they hadn’t moved yet. Batgirl quickly joined them on the roof, silently watching and waiting for them to be ready. Batman gave a nod, and they all launched themselves into the building. Nightwing fought without mercy, going for the most painful and effective hits, taking out one after another of the henchmen, and then quickly hurried through the door they were guarding into a hall. He was immediately greeted with more guards, who he took out quickly, and began opening doors, searching for Robin. He came to a heavily locked one, quickly broke in, and stopped at the sight of Tim chained to a wall, hanging from it, eyes closed, Robin costume torn and blood splattered on the wall behind him. Dick's heart skipped a beat, but as he stepped forward, Tim opened his eyes.
"Little help here?" he asked weakly. Dick rushed forward to pick the locks and get him down. He caught Tim before he fell to the floor. He was alive. Tim was alive.
"Can you walk?" he asked carefully. Tim squeezed his eyes shut.
"No," he said, and Dick knew how much that admission cost him. God, Tim couldn’t walk. Arkham was too good for whoever did this to him. Tim would never accept help for such a thing unless he really, really couldn't. Dick wished he'd been a bit more violent while battling the henchmen, but he’d wanted to get to Tim quickly.
"It's okay, I've got you. Let's get out of here." Dick held Tim gently to him, and Tim clutched, holding on as Dick ran. Batman saw them, and gave a nod, indicating to take Tim back to the cave.
"Take the Batmobile," he shouted. Dick nodded, and launched himself to the roof, carefully holding Tim, and then swung them down to where the Batmobile was hidden. He set Tim down in the passenger seat, and climbed into the driver's side, watching as Tim struggled with the buckle. Dick headed back at full speed.
~
Dick watched and helped as Alfred patched Tim up. He was going to be okay. He had to be okay. Dick went through the motions mechanically, not registering what he was doing. Cass and Bruce arrived soon after, with a nod to indicate that the police had taken in the villain. Tim smiled weakly at them.
"Thanks guys," he managed. Bruce just nodded, then turned and left the room. Cass stayed, watching Dick, Tim and Alfred carefully. Alfred gave a final glance over Tim.
"The drugs they gave you should wear off in a few hours, and you'll regain feeling in your legs then. You'll just have to make sure you don't move around too much the next few days." Just drugs. Tim would be okay. He’d be fine.
"Great," muttered Tim.
"You'll be back to normal in no time, Master Tim. Just try to stay in bed as much as possible for the next two days. I don't want to hear you've been anywhere other then your bedroom or bathroom." Tim would hate that.
"Alright Alfred. I'll stay in bed."
"Very good, Master Tim. Now get some sleep." Alfred gave them all a nod before leaving the room. Cass touched Tim gently on the shoulder, and then squeezed Dick's shoulder lightly as she walked past him to leave the room.
"Goodnight, Tim," Dick said gently. Tim needed to sleep. Sleep would make him feel better.
"Goodnight Dick. And thanks."
"It's." Nothing. Everything. "No need to thank me. Now get to sleep." Tim nodded at him, and closed his eyes. Dick left the room quietly.
~
Dick sat in his own bed, unable to sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Tim. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tim chained against the blood covered wall. He kept his eyes open, and stared at the ceiling. Before he knew it, he found himself in the hall heading towards Tim's bedroom. He had to see him. Just see him. He needed to see he was okay. He slipped into the room quietly, and sat down on the chair that was waiting beside the bed. Watched Tim breath. In, out, in, out. Dick allowed the tears to trickle down his cheeks, heedless to them. He became lost in the rhythm, following it, watching the breaths assure him Tim was alive. Then the breathing stopped. Dick felt his heart shatter.
"Dick?" asked Tim's voice, soft and confused. The breathing continued, just in a different pattern now. Dick could breath again. "Dick, what's wrong?"
"I," his voice sounded so small, so broken, "I was so worried about you. I thought. I thought. I couldn't let anything happen to you, and I thought about what they might be doing, and I was so scared for you. I had to come see you, make sure you were here, safe. Make sure you were okay."
"I'm fine," Tim said with a small, sad smile. Dick looked at him, and suddenly he was leaning forward, and had pressed his lips to Tim's. He drew away when he realised what he'd done.
"I. God, I'm sorry. I. I'll go." He got up to leave. God, he shouldn’t have done that.
"I love you," said Tim, making him stop dead. Tim didn’t say that, it had to be his imagination. "I love you," he said again, more firmly this time. Dick leant over him, and caressed his cheek gently before kissing him again, and then pulled back to search his eyes. Tim smiled, and while it was small, there was no sadness in it. Tim tugged back the blanket ever so slightly, and that was all the encouragement Dick needed to climb into bed with him. Tim leaned into his chest, and wrapped his arms carefully around him. Dick shifted gently closer to him, and returned the embrace. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Tim shook his head gently, so Dick shut up. Tim nuzzled into the crook of his neck, and Dick held him the rest of the night. His Tim was okay.
~
Dick woke up because of a strange pressure behind his shoulder blade. He blinked and saw Cass standing beside the bed. She gave him a look, and then tapped the chair before leaving the room. Dick shifted gently, sliding out of Tim's embrace without waking him, and went to sit in the chair. A few moments later, Alfred and Bruce walked in.
"Good," said Bruce, "he's still sleeping. Were you here all night Dick?" Dick shifted and scratched his neck guiltily.
"Er, yah." Alfred gave him a stern look.
"Master Tim is not the only one who needs to be getting sleep," he said firmly.
"I slept. I just, slept here. I didn't want to leave him alone."
"Understandable," said Bruce, and peered over the bed to get a better look at Tim. "He looks much better than he did last night. Apart from being drugged and roughed up a bit, he isn't that bad off. It seems they put him through the softening up stages first, thinking they could wear him down without making him go insane. It's rather hard to get information out of an insane person." Dick felt his heart clench at Bruce's matter of fact way of speaking of Tim's torture.
"All that blood on the walls was from softening up?" demanded Dick in a quiet but harsh voice.
"Hardly any of it was Tim's. It was all scare tactics." Dick grunted at this, and let his eyes flicker over the sleeping form in the bed.
"Master Bruce, Master Dick, might I suggest you head down for breakfast? Lady Cass is already eating, I believe."
"Certainly, Alfred. Dick?"
"I'm not that hungry. I think I'll wait here."
"Shall I bring something up for you, Master Dick?"
"That's not necessary, Alfred." Bruce and Alfred exchanged a glance.
"Bring something up for him," said Bruce, and they both turned and left the room. Dick went back to watching Tim. Alfred returned with two trays.
"I believe it would be best if Master Tim woke up and had something to eat soon," he said, and left the trays, giving Dick a look that made him fidget. The man couldn't know, but Alfred gave a smile before leaving that plainly said he did, even if he didn't know everything. Cass, however, did. Dick shook his head, and got up to set the tray over Tim, and then kissed him softly.
"Morning, sleepy," he said as Tim blinked at him.
"Hi," he said, and sat up carefully. "Food?"
"Alfred said it was best if you ate."
"Alfred's been here?" asked Tim, concerned.
"And Bruce," said Dick, "but Cass came before them. She woke me up." Tim raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, instead devouring the food in front of him. Dick ate at a slower pace, and snuck some of his eggs onto Tim's plate while he distracted the boy with a kiss.
~
That was close. Cass, who was apparently staying at the Manor for a while, Alfred, and Bruce had taken to checking up on Tim. One could have set a clock by the times Alfred visited, every half hour on the dot, and Cass slipped in now and then, but knocked on the door first. Bruce's visits, however, were erratic in timing, and he would slip into the room silently. This time, Dick had heard him opening the door only just in time to grab a nearby chess set and put it on Tim's lap, giving an excuse as to why he was sitting straddling him on the bed. Tim gave him a smirk and moved a piece.
"Checkmate," he declared, and Dick held back a snicker. Then he removed the chessboard, setting it back on the bedside table where it had rested earlier, and climbed off Tim and back onto the chair. Bruce smiled at them.
"How are you feeling, Tim?"
"Much better."
"Not asking if you're allowed out of bed yet? I'm surprised." Tim shrugged.
"Why ask when I already know the answer's going to be no? Anyways, I'm not too bored. Dick's been keeping my distracted." Dick very carefully held back a blush as Tim smirked at him. Distracted was a word for it.
"Well, try not to beat him too many times at chess. He must be taking quite the blow to his ego." Dick rolled his eyes. "I'll have Alfred bring you both up supper, then?" he asked, and left before receiving an answer. Dick let out a long breath.
"That was close," Tim remarked, "it's a good thing that chess set was there."
~
Cass dropped by after patrol, with a nod to indicate that everything had gone fine. Batgirl had covered Robin's shift, and Nightwing didn't have patrol that night anyways. Tim sat up when she came in.
"Cass?" he asked. She smiled at them, and walked over. She gave Dick a gentle push towards the bed, and a firm look, and then touched them both on the shoulders again. Tim reached back and returned the gesture. "Thanks," he said softly, and Cass gave Dick another gentle push towards the bed before leaving.
~
"While I am glad to see you are sleeping in an actual bed tonight, Master Dick," said a familiar voice, waking him, "I might suggest moving to the chair before Master Bruce arrives." Dick climbed out of the bed to the chair in a sleepy daze.
"Alfred? What's going on?" asked Tim with a yawn.
"Master Bruce ran into Dr. Leslie, who insisted on coming to check Master Tim over when she heard about the incident. I would assume you'd rather they didn't stumble upon you as you were."
"Right. Thanks. Sorry," Dick muttered, slumping into the chair, and glancing over to the clock, which proclaimed it to be five thirty in the morning.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Master Dick."
~
Tim had been given a clean bill of health by Leslie, and was allowed out of bed, as long as he didn’t patrol the rest of the week and took things easy. Tim had insisted on Nightwing going on patrol, not wanting to keep Dick back any longer. When Dick arrived back, Alfred informed him that he’d made Tim go to bed, and ushered him into Tim’s room.
“I took the liberty of moving some of your things here, Master Dick. It would make things easier.” Dick smiled, and didn’t even bother to ask if Bruce knew. He didn’t. Dick would know when Bruce found out.
“Thanks, Alfred.”
“We live to serve, Master Dick. Now get to bed.” He gave Dick a knowing smile and slipped out of the room. Dick slid into the bed, and Tim rolled in his sleep to lean against him. It was probably as close to a cuddle as Tim would get. Dick smiled, and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off.
~
Dick woke up in the middle of the night, and found Tim sitting up in bed, blankets pulled tightly around him.
“Hey,” he said gently, “you okay?”
“Just a nightmare,” said Tim, shrugging it off. Dick sat up and pulled him into a hug, massaging his back.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nah, I just want to forget about it.” He kissed Dick fiercely, and Dick responded, happy to help him forget. Tim jerked against him, a little, and makes a surprised noise. And jerks again. It takes Dick a moment to realise he’s thrusting.
“Oh God.” And he should probably stop kissing him, or at least stop kissing him so desperately. And he shouldn’t push Tim down underneath him and start pressing, grinding their bodies together. And he should say something other then these useless moans that sound an awful lot like please. “I love you,” slips out of his mouth, and that was true, but also not something he should have said right now, because it only encourages Tim, who was currently - “Oh God.” And he has no idea how Tim managed to get his shirt and pants off without him noticing, much less his boxers. He also has no idea how he managed to get Tim’s clothes off without noticing. “Tim, are you-“
“Please,” says Tim, and Dick really can’t not explore Tim’s skin with his lips, finding the scars and kissing them gently, nibbling along his collarbone, kissing downwards, flicking his tongue in his naval. “Please,” he gasps again, and Dick gives a tentative lick.
“God. Can I?” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, what he can have, what he wants…
“Anything. You can do anything. Everything. Please.” And Tim’s no longer saying words, just syllables, but Dick can tell he’s trying to say his name and it sounds like begging.
“Tim,” he gasps, and it’s the only thing he’s able to say the rest of the night that is not an intelligible moan.
~
Dick is incredibly glad that Bruce had managed to convince him to move back into the manor when he’d moved back to Gotham. Because Tim was at the manor, and there was now no way on Earth or off it that anyone could convince him to stay anywhere Tim wasn’t. Over the past few weeks, all of Dick’s things had migrated into Tim’s room, and Cass gave them a small, knowing smile whenever she saw them. Bruce remained oblivious, and Dick spent a small time worrying about what he would say when Bruce found out, or if he could bring himself to tell him.
“Don’t worry about Bruce,” Tim said, leaning over to whisper in his ear and squeeze his hand while the man in question was looking away. Dick raised an eyebrow. Tim could read him very well. Almost too well, if such a thing were possible. Tim smiled at him, and sat back to wait for the first of the guests to arrive to the party that Bruce Wayne was holding - a charity ball for one of the hospitals. Tim sighed, and reached over to fix Dick’s bowtie. Dick smirked, and held back the urge to ruffle Tim’s hair. Then again, with the amount of gel the boy had put in, he doubted it would do much harm. The ring of the doorbell was heard, and Tim and Dick stood to join Bruce and be introduced and reintroduced to the various socialites of Gotham. Dick smiled and nodded and laughed at jokes throughout the night, waiting until they could slip away and do something more interesting. Bruce had forbidden them from going on patrol, saying that if he had to go through this so did they, and that Batgirl and the Huntress could take care of Gotham for the night. He had not, however, forbidden them from going to bed early. Or from slipping into a convenient secret passage or two.
Tim soon spotted an opportunity to slip away, and dragged Dick into a hidden passage to make-out for a while, until he pulled away with a regretful smile.
“Bruce is going to be looking for us soon, he’s finished the speech and they’re about to start the dancing.”
“Right,” said Dick, and gave Tim another quick kiss before checking if the way was clear for them to slip out unnoticed. When it was, they slipped away, heading in separate directions to find Bruce and meet up with him. When Dick reached him, Tim was already there. Bruce gave him an eyebrow raise, and Dick made a mental note to steal some of Tim’s gel the next time they went to one of these things and ran a hand through his hair, trying to flatten it nervously. Bruce shook his head and gave a more pointed glance to Dick’s tux, which had a few buttons undone, and revealed what was definitely a hickie. Dick quickly did the buttons up, and then realised his bowtie was missing. Tim took it out of his pocket, and handed it to Dick.
“Good thing I always carry an extra,” he muttered, just loud enough for Bruce to hear and smirk. Dick glared and mouthed ‘your fault’ at him while Bruce turned to flirt with some young ladies standing beside them.
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t dance with you all,” he said to the three, “but luckily for you I happen to have two sons. Dick, Tim, get over here and meet these simply charming ladies.” Dick and Tim glanced at each other with raised eyebrows and came over, putting on their charming smiles. A few dances, and then Bruce would never notice they were gone.
~
“Alfred!” shouted Bruce in the room adjoining the one Dick was lounging in, “Dick’s gone!” Dick was confused at this statement. What could make the man think he was gone? Then it clicked, and Dick waited for everything to explode. He glanced down at Tim, who was lying in his lap, and gave him a worried look.
“Gone? How so Master Bruce?”
“I was looking for him, and went to his room. All of his stuff is gone. All of it. There’s not even a note.”
“Oh, he’s not gone, Master Bruce. He’s just no longer using that room.”
“Not using that room? Why ever not?” Tim got up, and gave Dick a look. Dick nodded.
“That would because he’s sleeping with me,” said Tim, standing in the doorway between the two rooms, causing Bruce and Dick to stare in shock. Tim could’ve put it a little less bluntly.
“What?” gasped Bruce eventually.
“I’m sleeping with him,” said Dick, coming up behind Tim to wrap his arms around him. Alfred edged quietly out of the room.
“Egurkle,” said Bruce.
“What was it you were looking for me about?” asked Dick innocently, letting his hands slip lower. Bruce boggled.
“Not important,” he said finally. “You two, sit.” Dick let go of Tim and took his hand as they sat down. Tim gave it an encouraging squeeze. Bruce paced. “How long has this been going on?” he demanded.
“Almost two months, ” replied Tim. Bruce paced some more. He finally stopped and gave them a serious look.
“Are you happy?” he asked, surprising them.
“Yes,” said Tim.
“More than I’ve ever been,” replied Dick, giving Tim’s hand a squeeze. Bruce gave them another hard look.
“You’ve already proven you won’t let this interfere with the Mission,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Just,” he paused, sighing. “Be good to each other,” he said before turning and leaving the room.
“Pinch me,” said Tim, “I’m dreaming.” Dick smiled and bit him lightly on the neck.
“Not a dream. Just a good reality for once.”
~
End.
It was late, and Tim hadn't come in from patrol yet. Dick, Bruce, and Alfred waited anxiously. Bruce continued to try and reach Robin through his comm., and Dick felt his heart twist painfully with each unanswered ring. Oracle was tracking the tracers in Robin's suit, and found them scattered in a dozen different locations. Dick clenched his fist together tightly, making his nails dig painfully into the palms of his hands. His comm. link buzzed, and he quickly answered it.
"Robin?" he asked, voice cracked and painful. Someone on the other end chuckled.
"Ah, so it seems that Batman is not the number your little Robin has on speed-dial. Whom am I speaking with?"
"Nightwing. What did you do with Robin?" He only just manages to control most of the worry from seeping into his voice, and his brain is providing him with thousands of horrible images of what could have happen to him.
"Oh, don't worry. He's alive... for now. Are you interested in seeing how long it takes before he breaks? Before he spills everything he knows about you all? From what I hear, little Robin's fairly knowledgeable about quiet a few of you, isn't he? The Titans, the League, the Outsiders... Your whole little Bat family." Dick felt his eyes prickle with tears, but focused on Bruce, who was online with Oracle and tracking the call.
"You'll never break him. If you even have him. Why should I believe you?"
"I'll let you talk to him then, you have thirty seconds."
"Robin?"
"Nightwing. You alright? Don’t worry about me, okay? Don't give them anything. Central, west of-" Dick clings to Tim’s voice, strong and brave, and trying to reassure him.
"Ah, ah, ah, that's enough now. We can't have you giving away anything."
"What do you want?" asked Nightwing, and Dick is fairly certain he’d give them anything.
"That's easy. I want the world. Unfortunately, that's nothing you can give me. However, if you stay on your best behaviour and out of my way, we might let your little brother live." Dick felt his heart pound in his throat.
"We will never agree to that," said Bruce, who had joined in, leaving Oracle to the tracking. Dick can’t let himself open his mouth, he can’t, because something stupid will come out.
"Ah, so I do get to talk to Batman after all. Are you not concerned for your little friend here?" God, more than he could possibly say. They are going to pay, they are going to pay so much, they can’t have his little brother, his Tim. His Tim.
"We will not betray the mission. Robin understands that." And Dick can’t even breathe any more, he’s so scared.
"Very well. You'll just leave him here to be tortured then?" Dick couldn't speak, he couldn’t breath, he could hardly even think. They couldn’t hurt Tim, he lov-
"Yes," said Bruce, and Dick wanted to scream.
"Very well," said the man, "you heard them Robin. They're just going to leave you here. Sure you're not going to reconsider my offer?"
"I'll never join you," they could hear Tim shout in the background, voice broken and pained but firm. Strong. So strong.
"Very well. I suppose we'll just have to convince you." There was a scream, and Dick’s heart broke. "I'll give you one last chance. Stay out of my way, and your Robin will be allowed to live after I'm finished with him."
"No," said Bruce.
"Very well. May this rest on your conscience for the rest of your life. Don't worry - it won't be long." The man hung up. It was only when the line went dead that Dick realised the sobs were coming from him.
"Nightwing," Batman said firmly. He had pulled the cowl back on.
"Batman," he said, pulling himself together. "We're going to make them pay."
"Yes. We are. They can spend the rest of their lives in Arkham. And Dick," he said with a softer glance, "try not to rough them up too much."
~
Oracle had tracked down the broadcast location, and they set out immediately, in hopes that they had not moved yet. Dick was praying to every God he’d ever heard of that they hadn’t moved yet. Batgirl quickly joined them on the roof, silently watching and waiting for them to be ready. Batman gave a nod, and they all launched themselves into the building. Nightwing fought without mercy, going for the most painful and effective hits, taking out one after another of the henchmen, and then quickly hurried through the door they were guarding into a hall. He was immediately greeted with more guards, who he took out quickly, and began opening doors, searching for Robin. He came to a heavily locked one, quickly broke in, and stopped at the sight of Tim chained to a wall, hanging from it, eyes closed, Robin costume torn and blood splattered on the wall behind him. Dick's heart skipped a beat, but as he stepped forward, Tim opened his eyes.
"Little help here?" he asked weakly. Dick rushed forward to pick the locks and get him down. He caught Tim before he fell to the floor. He was alive. Tim was alive.
"Can you walk?" he asked carefully. Tim squeezed his eyes shut.
"No," he said, and Dick knew how much that admission cost him. God, Tim couldn’t walk. Arkham was too good for whoever did this to him. Tim would never accept help for such a thing unless he really, really couldn't. Dick wished he'd been a bit more violent while battling the henchmen, but he’d wanted to get to Tim quickly.
"It's okay, I've got you. Let's get out of here." Dick held Tim gently to him, and Tim clutched, holding on as Dick ran. Batman saw them, and gave a nod, indicating to take Tim back to the cave.
"Take the Batmobile," he shouted. Dick nodded, and launched himself to the roof, carefully holding Tim, and then swung them down to where the Batmobile was hidden. He set Tim down in the passenger seat, and climbed into the driver's side, watching as Tim struggled with the buckle. Dick headed back at full speed.
~
Dick watched and helped as Alfred patched Tim up. He was going to be okay. He had to be okay. Dick went through the motions mechanically, not registering what he was doing. Cass and Bruce arrived soon after, with a nod to indicate that the police had taken in the villain. Tim smiled weakly at them.
"Thanks guys," he managed. Bruce just nodded, then turned and left the room. Cass stayed, watching Dick, Tim and Alfred carefully. Alfred gave a final glance over Tim.
"The drugs they gave you should wear off in a few hours, and you'll regain feeling in your legs then. You'll just have to make sure you don't move around too much the next few days." Just drugs. Tim would be okay. He’d be fine.
"Great," muttered Tim.
"You'll be back to normal in no time, Master Tim. Just try to stay in bed as much as possible for the next two days. I don't want to hear you've been anywhere other then your bedroom or bathroom." Tim would hate that.
"Alright Alfred. I'll stay in bed."
"Very good, Master Tim. Now get some sleep." Alfred gave them all a nod before leaving the room. Cass touched Tim gently on the shoulder, and then squeezed Dick's shoulder lightly as she walked past him to leave the room.
"Goodnight, Tim," Dick said gently. Tim needed to sleep. Sleep would make him feel better.
"Goodnight Dick. And thanks."
"It's." Nothing. Everything. "No need to thank me. Now get to sleep." Tim nodded at him, and closed his eyes. Dick left the room quietly.
~
Dick sat in his own bed, unable to sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Tim. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tim chained against the blood covered wall. He kept his eyes open, and stared at the ceiling. Before he knew it, he found himself in the hall heading towards Tim's bedroom. He had to see him. Just see him. He needed to see he was okay. He slipped into the room quietly, and sat down on the chair that was waiting beside the bed. Watched Tim breath. In, out, in, out. Dick allowed the tears to trickle down his cheeks, heedless to them. He became lost in the rhythm, following it, watching the breaths assure him Tim was alive. Then the breathing stopped. Dick felt his heart shatter.
"Dick?" asked Tim's voice, soft and confused. The breathing continued, just in a different pattern now. Dick could breath again. "Dick, what's wrong?"
"I," his voice sounded so small, so broken, "I was so worried about you. I thought. I thought. I couldn't let anything happen to you, and I thought about what they might be doing, and I was so scared for you. I had to come see you, make sure you were here, safe. Make sure you were okay."
"I'm fine," Tim said with a small, sad smile. Dick looked at him, and suddenly he was leaning forward, and had pressed his lips to Tim's. He drew away when he realised what he'd done.
"I. God, I'm sorry. I. I'll go." He got up to leave. God, he shouldn’t have done that.
"I love you," said Tim, making him stop dead. Tim didn’t say that, it had to be his imagination. "I love you," he said again, more firmly this time. Dick leant over him, and caressed his cheek gently before kissing him again, and then pulled back to search his eyes. Tim smiled, and while it was small, there was no sadness in it. Tim tugged back the blanket ever so slightly, and that was all the encouragement Dick needed to climb into bed with him. Tim leaned into his chest, and wrapped his arms carefully around him. Dick shifted gently closer to him, and returned the embrace. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Tim shook his head gently, so Dick shut up. Tim nuzzled into the crook of his neck, and Dick held him the rest of the night. His Tim was okay.
~
Dick woke up because of a strange pressure behind his shoulder blade. He blinked and saw Cass standing beside the bed. She gave him a look, and then tapped the chair before leaving the room. Dick shifted gently, sliding out of Tim's embrace without waking him, and went to sit in the chair. A few moments later, Alfred and Bruce walked in.
"Good," said Bruce, "he's still sleeping. Were you here all night Dick?" Dick shifted and scratched his neck guiltily.
"Er, yah." Alfred gave him a stern look.
"Master Tim is not the only one who needs to be getting sleep," he said firmly.
"I slept. I just, slept here. I didn't want to leave him alone."
"Understandable," said Bruce, and peered over the bed to get a better look at Tim. "He looks much better than he did last night. Apart from being drugged and roughed up a bit, he isn't that bad off. It seems they put him through the softening up stages first, thinking they could wear him down without making him go insane. It's rather hard to get information out of an insane person." Dick felt his heart clench at Bruce's matter of fact way of speaking of Tim's torture.
"All that blood on the walls was from softening up?" demanded Dick in a quiet but harsh voice.
"Hardly any of it was Tim's. It was all scare tactics." Dick grunted at this, and let his eyes flicker over the sleeping form in the bed.
"Master Bruce, Master Dick, might I suggest you head down for breakfast? Lady Cass is already eating, I believe."
"Certainly, Alfred. Dick?"
"I'm not that hungry. I think I'll wait here."
"Shall I bring something up for you, Master Dick?"
"That's not necessary, Alfred." Bruce and Alfred exchanged a glance.
"Bring something up for him," said Bruce, and they both turned and left the room. Dick went back to watching Tim. Alfred returned with two trays.
"I believe it would be best if Master Tim woke up and had something to eat soon," he said, and left the trays, giving Dick a look that made him fidget. The man couldn't know, but Alfred gave a smile before leaving that plainly said he did, even if he didn't know everything. Cass, however, did. Dick shook his head, and got up to set the tray over Tim, and then kissed him softly.
"Morning, sleepy," he said as Tim blinked at him.
"Hi," he said, and sat up carefully. "Food?"
"Alfred said it was best if you ate."
"Alfred's been here?" asked Tim, concerned.
"And Bruce," said Dick, "but Cass came before them. She woke me up." Tim raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, instead devouring the food in front of him. Dick ate at a slower pace, and snuck some of his eggs onto Tim's plate while he distracted the boy with a kiss.
~
That was close. Cass, who was apparently staying at the Manor for a while, Alfred, and Bruce had taken to checking up on Tim. One could have set a clock by the times Alfred visited, every half hour on the dot, and Cass slipped in now and then, but knocked on the door first. Bruce's visits, however, were erratic in timing, and he would slip into the room silently. This time, Dick had heard him opening the door only just in time to grab a nearby chess set and put it on Tim's lap, giving an excuse as to why he was sitting straddling him on the bed. Tim gave him a smirk and moved a piece.
"Checkmate," he declared, and Dick held back a snicker. Then he removed the chessboard, setting it back on the bedside table where it had rested earlier, and climbed off Tim and back onto the chair. Bruce smiled at them.
"How are you feeling, Tim?"
"Much better."
"Not asking if you're allowed out of bed yet? I'm surprised." Tim shrugged.
"Why ask when I already know the answer's going to be no? Anyways, I'm not too bored. Dick's been keeping my distracted." Dick very carefully held back a blush as Tim smirked at him. Distracted was a word for it.
"Well, try not to beat him too many times at chess. He must be taking quite the blow to his ego." Dick rolled his eyes. "I'll have Alfred bring you both up supper, then?" he asked, and left before receiving an answer. Dick let out a long breath.
"That was close," Tim remarked, "it's a good thing that chess set was there."
~
Cass dropped by after patrol, with a nod to indicate that everything had gone fine. Batgirl had covered Robin's shift, and Nightwing didn't have patrol that night anyways. Tim sat up when she came in.
"Cass?" he asked. She smiled at them, and walked over. She gave Dick a gentle push towards the bed, and a firm look, and then touched them both on the shoulders again. Tim reached back and returned the gesture. "Thanks," he said softly, and Cass gave Dick another gentle push towards the bed before leaving.
~
"While I am glad to see you are sleeping in an actual bed tonight, Master Dick," said a familiar voice, waking him, "I might suggest moving to the chair before Master Bruce arrives." Dick climbed out of the bed to the chair in a sleepy daze.
"Alfred? What's going on?" asked Tim with a yawn.
"Master Bruce ran into Dr. Leslie, who insisted on coming to check Master Tim over when she heard about the incident. I would assume you'd rather they didn't stumble upon you as you were."
"Right. Thanks. Sorry," Dick muttered, slumping into the chair, and glancing over to the clock, which proclaimed it to be five thirty in the morning.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Master Dick."
~
Tim had been given a clean bill of health by Leslie, and was allowed out of bed, as long as he didn’t patrol the rest of the week and took things easy. Tim had insisted on Nightwing going on patrol, not wanting to keep Dick back any longer. When Dick arrived back, Alfred informed him that he’d made Tim go to bed, and ushered him into Tim’s room.
“I took the liberty of moving some of your things here, Master Dick. It would make things easier.” Dick smiled, and didn’t even bother to ask if Bruce knew. He didn’t. Dick would know when Bruce found out.
“Thanks, Alfred.”
“We live to serve, Master Dick. Now get to bed.” He gave Dick a knowing smile and slipped out of the room. Dick slid into the bed, and Tim rolled in his sleep to lean against him. It was probably as close to a cuddle as Tim would get. Dick smiled, and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off.
~
Dick woke up in the middle of the night, and found Tim sitting up in bed, blankets pulled tightly around him.
“Hey,” he said gently, “you okay?”
“Just a nightmare,” said Tim, shrugging it off. Dick sat up and pulled him into a hug, massaging his back.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nah, I just want to forget about it.” He kissed Dick fiercely, and Dick responded, happy to help him forget. Tim jerked against him, a little, and makes a surprised noise. And jerks again. It takes Dick a moment to realise he’s thrusting.
“Oh God.” And he should probably stop kissing him, or at least stop kissing him so desperately. And he shouldn’t push Tim down underneath him and start pressing, grinding their bodies together. And he should say something other then these useless moans that sound an awful lot like please. “I love you,” slips out of his mouth, and that was true, but also not something he should have said right now, because it only encourages Tim, who was currently - “Oh God.” And he has no idea how Tim managed to get his shirt and pants off without him noticing, much less his boxers. He also has no idea how he managed to get Tim’s clothes off without noticing. “Tim, are you-“
“Please,” says Tim, and Dick really can’t not explore Tim’s skin with his lips, finding the scars and kissing them gently, nibbling along his collarbone, kissing downwards, flicking his tongue in his naval. “Please,” he gasps again, and Dick gives a tentative lick.
“God. Can I?” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, what he can have, what he wants…
“Anything. You can do anything. Everything. Please.” And Tim’s no longer saying words, just syllables, but Dick can tell he’s trying to say his name and it sounds like begging.
“Tim,” he gasps, and it’s the only thing he’s able to say the rest of the night that is not an intelligible moan.
~
Dick is incredibly glad that Bruce had managed to convince him to move back into the manor when he’d moved back to Gotham. Because Tim was at the manor, and there was now no way on Earth or off it that anyone could convince him to stay anywhere Tim wasn’t. Over the past few weeks, all of Dick’s things had migrated into Tim’s room, and Cass gave them a small, knowing smile whenever she saw them. Bruce remained oblivious, and Dick spent a small time worrying about what he would say when Bruce found out, or if he could bring himself to tell him.
“Don’t worry about Bruce,” Tim said, leaning over to whisper in his ear and squeeze his hand while the man in question was looking away. Dick raised an eyebrow. Tim could read him very well. Almost too well, if such a thing were possible. Tim smiled at him, and sat back to wait for the first of the guests to arrive to the party that Bruce Wayne was holding - a charity ball for one of the hospitals. Tim sighed, and reached over to fix Dick’s bowtie. Dick smirked, and held back the urge to ruffle Tim’s hair. Then again, with the amount of gel the boy had put in, he doubted it would do much harm. The ring of the doorbell was heard, and Tim and Dick stood to join Bruce and be introduced and reintroduced to the various socialites of Gotham. Dick smiled and nodded and laughed at jokes throughout the night, waiting until they could slip away and do something more interesting. Bruce had forbidden them from going on patrol, saying that if he had to go through this so did they, and that Batgirl and the Huntress could take care of Gotham for the night. He had not, however, forbidden them from going to bed early. Or from slipping into a convenient secret passage or two.
Tim soon spotted an opportunity to slip away, and dragged Dick into a hidden passage to make-out for a while, until he pulled away with a regretful smile.
“Bruce is going to be looking for us soon, he’s finished the speech and they’re about to start the dancing.”
“Right,” said Dick, and gave Tim another quick kiss before checking if the way was clear for them to slip out unnoticed. When it was, they slipped away, heading in separate directions to find Bruce and meet up with him. When Dick reached him, Tim was already there. Bruce gave him an eyebrow raise, and Dick made a mental note to steal some of Tim’s gel the next time they went to one of these things and ran a hand through his hair, trying to flatten it nervously. Bruce shook his head and gave a more pointed glance to Dick’s tux, which had a few buttons undone, and revealed what was definitely a hickie. Dick quickly did the buttons up, and then realised his bowtie was missing. Tim took it out of his pocket, and handed it to Dick.
“Good thing I always carry an extra,” he muttered, just loud enough for Bruce to hear and smirk. Dick glared and mouthed ‘your fault’ at him while Bruce turned to flirt with some young ladies standing beside them.
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t dance with you all,” he said to the three, “but luckily for you I happen to have two sons. Dick, Tim, get over here and meet these simply charming ladies.” Dick and Tim glanced at each other with raised eyebrows and came over, putting on their charming smiles. A few dances, and then Bruce would never notice they were gone.
~
“Alfred!” shouted Bruce in the room adjoining the one Dick was lounging in, “Dick’s gone!” Dick was confused at this statement. What could make the man think he was gone? Then it clicked, and Dick waited for everything to explode. He glanced down at Tim, who was lying in his lap, and gave him a worried look.
“Gone? How so Master Bruce?”
“I was looking for him, and went to his room. All of his stuff is gone. All of it. There’s not even a note.”
“Oh, he’s not gone, Master Bruce. He’s just no longer using that room.”
“Not using that room? Why ever not?” Tim got up, and gave Dick a look. Dick nodded.
“That would because he’s sleeping with me,” said Tim, standing in the doorway between the two rooms, causing Bruce and Dick to stare in shock. Tim could’ve put it a little less bluntly.
“What?” gasped Bruce eventually.
“I’m sleeping with him,” said Dick, coming up behind Tim to wrap his arms around him. Alfred edged quietly out of the room.
“Egurkle,” said Bruce.
“What was it you were looking for me about?” asked Dick innocently, letting his hands slip lower. Bruce boggled.
“Not important,” he said finally. “You two, sit.” Dick let go of Tim and took his hand as they sat down. Tim gave it an encouraging squeeze. Bruce paced. “How long has this been going on?” he demanded.
“Almost two months, ” replied Tim. Bruce paced some more. He finally stopped and gave them a serious look.
“Are you happy?” he asked, surprising them.
“Yes,” said Tim.
“More than I’ve ever been,” replied Dick, giving Tim’s hand a squeeze. Bruce gave them another hard look.
“You’ve already proven you won’t let this interfere with the Mission,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Just,” he paused, sighing. “Be good to each other,” he said before turning and leaving the room.
“Pinch me,” said Tim, “I’m dreaming.” Dick smiled and bit him lightly on the neck.
“Not a dream. Just a good reality for once.”
~
End.