Fic: "Conversation" by kyrdwyn (PG-13, Tim, Slade, Tim/Jason)
Title: Conversation
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: PG-13
Series: Beloved
Fandom: Batman (comics)
Pairings/Characters: Tim Drake, Slade Wilson, Tim/Jason
kissbingo Prompt: Punch Drunk
Summary: Tim woke up slowly, his mind and body slightly disconnected.
Warnings: AU. Dark AU.
Beta: None
Previous Parts: Beloved | Confusion | Revelation
The black R-shaped shuriken flew past Tim's head, missing as he ducked and rolled and came up still running, the detonator still in his hand. Raptor was behind him, determined to stop him from escaping and blowing up the warehouse. Tim turned, knives flying from his hands toward Raptor. Tim ran out the door, Raptor following, shouting that he would kill the Dragon. Tim activated the detonator and ran for the waiting getaway vehicle. The resulting explosion and fireball was beautiful, ending a clear message to the Batman that he could not hide from the League of Assassins. The shock wave threw Tim against the car, his head bouncing off the metal side and he slid down to the pavement, dazed.
"Dragon," a familiar voice said, hands sliding under his arms and pulling him into the car. "Drive," the voice ordered as the door shut and Tim was cradled against a familiar body. He turned and nuzzled at his lover's throat. He opened his eyes, but closed them quickly when he saw two Jason Todds leaning over him.
"Tim?" Jason asked. "Open your eyes for me, Beloved."
Tim shook his head, then winced as it suddenly throbbed. "No," he muttered.
"Come on, Timmy," Jason crooned in an irritating saccharine voice.
Tim opened his eyes, squinting until there was only one Jason in his vision. Jason's lips were close, and Tim couldn't help reaching up and pulling Jason into a kiss, sliding his tongue past Jason's lips, closing his eyes. Jason's tongue slid out to meet Tim's, and his hand slid up to the back of head, fingers gently gliding over the bump on the back of Tim's head. Tim winced into the kiss, pulling back.
"Keep your eyes open, Tim," Jason said. "You can sleep back at the safe house, once Cass has checked you over."
Tim bit his lip, hoping the pain would help. He knew Jason was right, but he was so tired. "Think Raptor got out?" he asked.
"Probably, much as we might wish it otherwise," Jason said, his hands running down Tim's torso, checking for injuries. "But at least we crippled his operations for a while. We'll have to thank Oracle for getting us the information."
"Whoever he or she is," Tim said. He rested his head against Jason's shoulder, eyelids drooping. Jason nudged him.
"Ten more minutes, Beloved. You can hold out until then."
Tim would have nodded, but rather than risk the pain, he squeezed Jason's thigh in response, concentrating on his breathing. Ten more minutes to home, medics, debrief with the Head of the Demon and Slade, and then he could sleep, curled up with Jason in their bed. The best way to end any mission against the Bat and the Raptor.
Tim woke up slowly, his mind and body slightly disconnected. He reached out to find Jason's body, but only found the slightly scratchy sheets of the infirmary bed he was in. He blinked at the ceiling, trying to focus as the dream faded. He'd never been on a mission with Jason, never slept with Jason. The last time he'd seen Jason, the man had been in a bastardized Batsuit, trying to kill Tim, when he wasn't offering to let Tim be his Robin.
"Good, you're awake."
Tim forced himself not to tense at the familiar voice, oddly laced with what sounded like affection. Tim turned his head slowly to the door, seeing Slade Wilson, Deathstroke, leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest. Instead of his orange and blue and chain mail, Slade wore black slacks and a white button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
"You know who I am, kid?"
Tim's eyes narrowed. "You've tried to kill me on more than one occasion," he replied. "Be hard not to."
Something that looked like surprise - and hurt? - flashed briefly over Slade's face, and he sighed. "Tim," he began, looking at him with an odd expression on his face.
Tim didn't answer, turning his face so he looked straight up at the ceiling, watching Slade out of his peripheral vision. Slade stood there for a few moments longer, then came in and sat in the chair at Tim's bedside, forearms resting on his knees. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, sighing. After a few more moments of silence, he sighed again and ran a hand over his hair. "If you're anything like my Timothy," he said softly, "then you've probably figured out a lot of things already. Like the fact that this isn't your universe, this isn't your Gotham."
Tim turned his head slightly to watch Slade. He had figured that out, mostly from Jason's too careful questioning. Too many questions about things Jason should have known, too many carefully oblique responses to Tim's questions. Tim knew he'd been drugged at the time, making him more agreeable to the questioning. But his head was clear now.
"I met my Tim Drake when he was eleven years old. He sought me out for training, wanting to become the best he could be. Both of my sons had been killed, and I didn't want another brat hanging around, but he was persistent, and I admired that. I took him on as a student." Slade looked up at Tim, meeting his eyes. Tim blinked at the glassy sheen of unshed tears in Slade's good eye. "Timothy was my son. So whatever the other me did in your universe, I won't be doing here, Tim."
"What happened to your Tim?"
"That's.... going to require some background," Slade said with a sigh. "Jason says you were trained by Batman, his third Robin. There was only one Robin in our universe. Kid named Dick Grayson." He looked at Tim. "He the first Robin in yours?"
Tim nodded reluctantly. Seems Dick as the first Robin was a universal constant, or at least a constant between these two universes.
Slade nodded back. "You told Jason that Grayson's now Nightwing in your world. In ours....the Joker killed him several years back, while he was still Robin. In his grief, Batman killed the Joker, then killed Ra's al Ghul so he could resurrect his Robin in a Lazarus Pit. Robin now goes by the name of Raptor."
Oh God, Dick. The Joker had killed Dick, and if Bruce had reacted to Dick getting shot by firing him, he just might have gone mad with grief over Dick dying, same as he had when Jason had died. But killing the Joker? Using a Lazarus Pit on Dick? That didn't sound like Bruce.
"Six months ago," Slade continued, "Tim intercepted Raptor trying to get into the safe house of one of our operatives. They fought, and Tim was badly injured. We got him out of there, but we all knew he wouldn't survive. Tim refused the Lazarus Pit. Died in his lover's arms." Slade looked away from Tim, hands clasped tightly together. "No one outside the inner core of our group knows Timothy died. When the Batman's men found you, they presumed you were our Timothy."
Tim swallowed. That had been Dick's voice he'd heard, then. Dick ordering him interrogated. Dick, who wasn't his big brother here. Bruce wasn't his mentor. No Alfred, no Barbara or Steph or Tam, no Titans..... at least, not as he knew them. Tim could very well be an enemy to everyone he loved here. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath against the emotion that threatened to choke him.
"Look, kid."
"Leave me alone."
"Tim... "
"I'm not your Timothy," Tim said sharply, turning his head and glaring at Slade. "I don't know what you want with me, but you've given me no reason to trust you. For all I know, everything you just told me is a fabrication to gain my trust." Part of him hoped it was, but the practical part of him knew Slade wasn't lying.
Slade regarded Tim thoughtfully, then he nodded and stood. "I'll come back tomorrow." He headed for the door.
"Don't bother," Tim said. Slade gave no indication he'd heard. Tim turned his face away from the one way glass next to the door and closed his eyes. He would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him weep for the idea that Dick had been killed, that Bruce had gone against his morals and killed for Dick.
It was a long time before he'd calmed down enough to sleep.
Next: Dead Man's Memories
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: PG-13
Series: Beloved
Fandom: Batman (comics)
Pairings/Characters: Tim Drake, Slade Wilson, Tim/Jason
kissbingo Prompt: Punch Drunk
Summary: Tim woke up slowly, his mind and body slightly disconnected.
Warnings: AU. Dark AU.
Beta: None
Previous Parts: Beloved | Confusion | Revelation
The black R-shaped shuriken flew past Tim's head, missing as he ducked and rolled and came up still running, the detonator still in his hand. Raptor was behind him, determined to stop him from escaping and blowing up the warehouse. Tim turned, knives flying from his hands toward Raptor. Tim ran out the door, Raptor following, shouting that he would kill the Dragon. Tim activated the detonator and ran for the waiting getaway vehicle. The resulting explosion and fireball was beautiful, ending a clear message to the Batman that he could not hide from the League of Assassins. The shock wave threw Tim against the car, his head bouncing off the metal side and he slid down to the pavement, dazed.
"Dragon," a familiar voice said, hands sliding under his arms and pulling him into the car. "Drive," the voice ordered as the door shut and Tim was cradled against a familiar body. He turned and nuzzled at his lover's throat. He opened his eyes, but closed them quickly when he saw two Jason Todds leaning over him.
"Tim?" Jason asked. "Open your eyes for me, Beloved."
Tim shook his head, then winced as it suddenly throbbed. "No," he muttered.
"Come on, Timmy," Jason crooned in an irritating saccharine voice.
Tim opened his eyes, squinting until there was only one Jason in his vision. Jason's lips were close, and Tim couldn't help reaching up and pulling Jason into a kiss, sliding his tongue past Jason's lips, closing his eyes. Jason's tongue slid out to meet Tim's, and his hand slid up to the back of head, fingers gently gliding over the bump on the back of Tim's head. Tim winced into the kiss, pulling back.
"Keep your eyes open, Tim," Jason said. "You can sleep back at the safe house, once Cass has checked you over."
Tim bit his lip, hoping the pain would help. He knew Jason was right, but he was so tired. "Think Raptor got out?" he asked.
"Probably, much as we might wish it otherwise," Jason said, his hands running down Tim's torso, checking for injuries. "But at least we crippled his operations for a while. We'll have to thank Oracle for getting us the information."
"Whoever he or she is," Tim said. He rested his head against Jason's shoulder, eyelids drooping. Jason nudged him.
"Ten more minutes, Beloved. You can hold out until then."
Tim would have nodded, but rather than risk the pain, he squeezed Jason's thigh in response, concentrating on his breathing. Ten more minutes to home, medics, debrief with the Head of the Demon and Slade, and then he could sleep, curled up with Jason in their bed. The best way to end any mission against the Bat and the Raptor.
Tim woke up slowly, his mind and body slightly disconnected. He reached out to find Jason's body, but only found the slightly scratchy sheets of the infirmary bed he was in. He blinked at the ceiling, trying to focus as the dream faded. He'd never been on a mission with Jason, never slept with Jason. The last time he'd seen Jason, the man had been in a bastardized Batsuit, trying to kill Tim, when he wasn't offering to let Tim be his Robin.
"Good, you're awake."
Tim forced himself not to tense at the familiar voice, oddly laced with what sounded like affection. Tim turned his head slowly to the door, seeing Slade Wilson, Deathstroke, leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest. Instead of his orange and blue and chain mail, Slade wore black slacks and a white button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
"You know who I am, kid?"
Tim's eyes narrowed. "You've tried to kill me on more than one occasion," he replied. "Be hard not to."
Something that looked like surprise - and hurt? - flashed briefly over Slade's face, and he sighed. "Tim," he began, looking at him with an odd expression on his face.
Tim didn't answer, turning his face so he looked straight up at the ceiling, watching Slade out of his peripheral vision. Slade stood there for a few moments longer, then came in and sat in the chair at Tim's bedside, forearms resting on his knees. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, sighing. After a few more moments of silence, he sighed again and ran a hand over his hair. "If you're anything like my Timothy," he said softly, "then you've probably figured out a lot of things already. Like the fact that this isn't your universe, this isn't your Gotham."
Tim turned his head slightly to watch Slade. He had figured that out, mostly from Jason's too careful questioning. Too many questions about things Jason should have known, too many carefully oblique responses to Tim's questions. Tim knew he'd been drugged at the time, making him more agreeable to the questioning. But his head was clear now.
"I met my Tim Drake when he was eleven years old. He sought me out for training, wanting to become the best he could be. Both of my sons had been killed, and I didn't want another brat hanging around, but he was persistent, and I admired that. I took him on as a student." Slade looked up at Tim, meeting his eyes. Tim blinked at the glassy sheen of unshed tears in Slade's good eye. "Timothy was my son. So whatever the other me did in your universe, I won't be doing here, Tim."
"What happened to your Tim?"
"That's.... going to require some background," Slade said with a sigh. "Jason says you were trained by Batman, his third Robin. There was only one Robin in our universe. Kid named Dick Grayson." He looked at Tim. "He the first Robin in yours?"
Tim nodded reluctantly. Seems Dick as the first Robin was a universal constant, or at least a constant between these two universes.
Slade nodded back. "You told Jason that Grayson's now Nightwing in your world. In ours....the Joker killed him several years back, while he was still Robin. In his grief, Batman killed the Joker, then killed Ra's al Ghul so he could resurrect his Robin in a Lazarus Pit. Robin now goes by the name of Raptor."
Oh God, Dick. The Joker had killed Dick, and if Bruce had reacted to Dick getting shot by firing him, he just might have gone mad with grief over Dick dying, same as he had when Jason had died. But killing the Joker? Using a Lazarus Pit on Dick? That didn't sound like Bruce.
"Six months ago," Slade continued, "Tim intercepted Raptor trying to get into the safe house of one of our operatives. They fought, and Tim was badly injured. We got him out of there, but we all knew he wouldn't survive. Tim refused the Lazarus Pit. Died in his lover's arms." Slade looked away from Tim, hands clasped tightly together. "No one outside the inner core of our group knows Timothy died. When the Batman's men found you, they presumed you were our Timothy."
Tim swallowed. That had been Dick's voice he'd heard, then. Dick ordering him interrogated. Dick, who wasn't his big brother here. Bruce wasn't his mentor. No Alfred, no Barbara or Steph or Tam, no Titans..... at least, not as he knew them. Tim could very well be an enemy to everyone he loved here. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath against the emotion that threatened to choke him.
"Look, kid."
"Leave me alone."
"Tim... "
"I'm not your Timothy," Tim said sharply, turning his head and glaring at Slade. "I don't know what you want with me, but you've given me no reason to trust you. For all I know, everything you just told me is a fabrication to gain my trust." Part of him hoped it was, but the practical part of him knew Slade wasn't lying.
Slade regarded Tim thoughtfully, then he nodded and stood. "I'll come back tomorrow." He headed for the door.
"Don't bother," Tim said. Slade gave no indication he'd heard. Tim turned his face away from the one way glass next to the door and closed his eyes. He would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him weep for the idea that Dick had been killed, that Bruce had gone against his morals and killed for Dick.
It was a long time before he'd calmed down enough to sleep.
Next: Dead Man's Memories