Fic: "Rescue" by kyrdwyn (PG-13, hints of Jason/Tim)
Title: Rescue
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: PG-13
Series: Beloved
Fandom: Batman (comics)
Pairings/Characters: Tim Drake, Superman, Dr. Mid-Nite, Slade Wilson (mentions of Tim/Jason)
Summary: Tim is rescued from the Batman's cave.
Warnings: AU. Dark AU.
Beta: None
Previous Parts: Beloved | Confusion | Revelation | Conversation | Dead Man's Memories | Maternal Devotion | Protégé | Exposure | Retaliation
"Are we sure this is Dragon?" Dick's voice. But yet not.
"He's Dragon. The Pit must have given him back his eye." Bruce's voice, harder and harsher than Tim had ever heard. "That offends me."
His eyelids are pulled open, held back by tiny metal instruments. Batman is leaning over him, cowl down and a gleam in his eyes that reminds Tim of both Ra's al Ghul and the Joker. Tim tries to struggle, but his body feels as if it were buried under two tons of sand. Drugged, he idly thought.
"And if his right eye offends me?" Batman again, staring down at Tim. Most definitely Batman, despite the loss of the cowl. That was not Bruce, not Tim's father.
"Pluck it out." Dick handed a scalpel to Bruce, deliberately passing it over Tim's line of sight. His older brother (not Dick, not my brother) was in all black, no blue to break it up, and a domino mask. Raptor.
"Indeed," Bruce said before plunging the scalpel into Tim's right eye. Tim screamed.
Tim woke up screaming, his eye socket throbbing in pain where Batman (not Bruce, not my Bruce, not my father) had brutally torn out his eye and left it exposed, only cauterizing the wounds to ensure Tim wouldn't die before Batman could finish the job himself - after taking care of the metas that had invaded his city. Batman, Raptor, and Robin had been furious that the Justice League would be active in Gotham. Tim thought he vaguely remembered them mentioning seeing Deathstroke with the League, but considering the pain that he had been in, he wasn't sure he trusted his ears.
Another wave of pain wracked his body, and Tim tried to block it out, running through every pain blocking technique his Bruce had taught him, focusing on everything he could other than the pain - the feel of swinging through Gotham on de-cel lines, stupid conversations with Kon and Bart over Wendy the Werewolf Stalker, train surfing with Nightwing (not Raptor, Nightwing), the first time he and Jason had made love, the look on Jason's face when Tim had proposed their matching tattoos....
No...that wasn't me, he told himself. That was the Dragon Tim, the one who died... the one this Jason loves.
Wind stirred through the cave, that small touch against his empty socket causing him to cry out. Hands ripped open the bonds holding him to the gurney, and Tim opened his eye to see Superman standing at his side, a pained look on his face. It didn't look right, though. Something was off.
"Superman," Tim croaked.
"Shh," Superman replied, reaching down and gently picking Tim up. "We're getting out of here." He wrapped his cape around Tim, protecting his head, and flew out of the cave at top speed. Tim clutched at Superman's shirt, biting his lip at the pain. He refused to pass out.
A few minutes later, the sound changed, and Tim heard voices as Superman slowed down. "Batman took his eye," Superman told someone. "It doesn't look like any real medical attention was given."
"Put him on the bed," a familiar voice said. Tim was placed on the bed, and hands gently massaged his fingers, using pressure points to release his hold on Superman's shirt. "It's all right, Dragon," the familiar voice said. Something in Tim told him to move away from the voice, but then something sharp was being inserted into his arm and Tim was sucked into the darkness again.
Slade was sitting at Tim's bedside when he woke up next. Superman and Dr. Mid-Nite were in the corner, talking quietly. Tim blinked as the world looked off, his depth perception missing. His eye, he recalled suddenly, trying to sit up. Batman had taken his eye.
"Hey, kid, careful," Slade said, putting a hand on Tim's arm. "Dr. Mid-Nite did what he could, but.... I'm sorry."
"Batman took my eye," Tim said dully.
"Yeah, he did."
"How are you feeling?" Mid-Nite asked. Tim looked up at him, startled. That wasn't Pieter Cross under the cowl. That voice... that was Lex Luthor. Lex Luthor, standing next to Superman, their body language indicating they were comfortable being around each other.
"Like crap," Tim answered honestly.
Luthor chuckled. "It will pass. Probably a result of the drugs you'd been given by Batman and the ones I had to administer." He sobered. "There shouldn't be any infection or lingering complications from the removal of your eye. At least no medical complications."
No medical complications, but I'll never be Red Robin again, Tim thought. He leaned back against the bed, closing his eye.
"We'll let you sleep," Superman said. "I know the two Leagues have much to discuss. Batman must be stopped."
Tim nodded. He heard the other two leave the room, the turned to Slade. The older man looked worn as he gazed at Tim. "I'm sorry, Dragon."
No real names, no here. Not when they were likely on camera, audio and video recordings being made.
"I'll live," Tim said bluntly. "You'll teach me how to fight again," he said, keeping up the pretense that this was not the first time he'd lost an eye. He knew Slade would ignore the 'again', teach Tim how to fight with one eye, the same as he'd taught Dragon.
Slade nodded. "I will."
"Good." Maybe he couldn't be Red Robin at home anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't become someone else.
"Get some rest, kid. You'll need it for the joint meeting of the Leagues." Slade patted Tim's hand, letting his rest on top of it. Tim found the warmth oddly comforting, an echo of the times Slade had sat by a much younger Tim Drake's bedside and comforted him after his nightmares of losing his eyes.
Lulled by another Tim's feeling of comfort around his father figure, Tim finally fell asleep.
Next: Meeting of Minds
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: PG-13
Series: Beloved
Fandom: Batman (comics)
Pairings/Characters: Tim Drake, Superman, Dr. Mid-Nite, Slade Wilson (mentions of Tim/Jason)
Summary: Tim is rescued from the Batman's cave.
Warnings: AU. Dark AU.
Beta: None
Previous Parts: Beloved | Confusion | Revelation | Conversation | Dead Man's Memories | Maternal Devotion | Protégé | Exposure | Retaliation
"Are we sure this is Dragon?" Dick's voice. But yet not.
"He's Dragon. The Pit must have given him back his eye." Bruce's voice, harder and harsher than Tim had ever heard. "That offends me."
His eyelids are pulled open, held back by tiny metal instruments. Batman is leaning over him, cowl down and a gleam in his eyes that reminds Tim of both Ra's al Ghul and the Joker. Tim tries to struggle, but his body feels as if it were buried under two tons of sand. Drugged, he idly thought.
"And if his right eye offends me?" Batman again, staring down at Tim. Most definitely Batman, despite the loss of the cowl. That was not Bruce, not Tim's father.
"Pluck it out." Dick handed a scalpel to Bruce, deliberately passing it over Tim's line of sight. His older brother (not Dick, not my brother) was in all black, no blue to break it up, and a domino mask. Raptor.
"Indeed," Bruce said before plunging the scalpel into Tim's right eye. Tim screamed.
Tim woke up screaming, his eye socket throbbing in pain where Batman (not Bruce, not my Bruce, not my father) had brutally torn out his eye and left it exposed, only cauterizing the wounds to ensure Tim wouldn't die before Batman could finish the job himself - after taking care of the metas that had invaded his city. Batman, Raptor, and Robin had been furious that the Justice League would be active in Gotham. Tim thought he vaguely remembered them mentioning seeing Deathstroke with the League, but considering the pain that he had been in, he wasn't sure he trusted his ears.
Another wave of pain wracked his body, and Tim tried to block it out, running through every pain blocking technique his Bruce had taught him, focusing on everything he could other than the pain - the feel of swinging through Gotham on de-cel lines, stupid conversations with Kon and Bart over Wendy the Werewolf Stalker, train surfing with Nightwing (not Raptor, Nightwing), the first time he and Jason had made love, the look on Jason's face when Tim had proposed their matching tattoos....
No...that wasn't me, he told himself. That was the Dragon Tim, the one who died... the one this Jason loves.
Wind stirred through the cave, that small touch against his empty socket causing him to cry out. Hands ripped open the bonds holding him to the gurney, and Tim opened his eye to see Superman standing at his side, a pained look on his face. It didn't look right, though. Something was off.
"Superman," Tim croaked.
"Shh," Superman replied, reaching down and gently picking Tim up. "We're getting out of here." He wrapped his cape around Tim, protecting his head, and flew out of the cave at top speed. Tim clutched at Superman's shirt, biting his lip at the pain. He refused to pass out.
A few minutes later, the sound changed, and Tim heard voices as Superman slowed down. "Batman took his eye," Superman told someone. "It doesn't look like any real medical attention was given."
"Put him on the bed," a familiar voice said. Tim was placed on the bed, and hands gently massaged his fingers, using pressure points to release his hold on Superman's shirt. "It's all right, Dragon," the familiar voice said. Something in Tim told him to move away from the voice, but then something sharp was being inserted into his arm and Tim was sucked into the darkness again.
Slade was sitting at Tim's bedside when he woke up next. Superman and Dr. Mid-Nite were in the corner, talking quietly. Tim blinked as the world looked off, his depth perception missing. His eye, he recalled suddenly, trying to sit up. Batman had taken his eye.
"Hey, kid, careful," Slade said, putting a hand on Tim's arm. "Dr. Mid-Nite did what he could, but.... I'm sorry."
"Batman took my eye," Tim said dully.
"Yeah, he did."
"How are you feeling?" Mid-Nite asked. Tim looked up at him, startled. That wasn't Pieter Cross under the cowl. That voice... that was Lex Luthor. Lex Luthor, standing next to Superman, their body language indicating they were comfortable being around each other.
"Like crap," Tim answered honestly.
Luthor chuckled. "It will pass. Probably a result of the drugs you'd been given by Batman and the ones I had to administer." He sobered. "There shouldn't be any infection or lingering complications from the removal of your eye. At least no medical complications."
No medical complications, but I'll never be Red Robin again, Tim thought. He leaned back against the bed, closing his eye.
"We'll let you sleep," Superman said. "I know the two Leagues have much to discuss. Batman must be stopped."
Tim nodded. He heard the other two leave the room, the turned to Slade. The older man looked worn as he gazed at Tim. "I'm sorry, Dragon."
No real names, no here. Not when they were likely on camera, audio and video recordings being made.
"I'll live," Tim said bluntly. "You'll teach me how to fight again," he said, keeping up the pretense that this was not the first time he'd lost an eye. He knew Slade would ignore the 'again', teach Tim how to fight with one eye, the same as he'd taught Dragon.
Slade nodded. "I will."
"Good." Maybe he couldn't be Red Robin at home anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't become someone else.
"Get some rest, kid. You'll need it for the joint meeting of the Leagues." Slade patted Tim's hand, letting his rest on top of it. Tim found the warmth oddly comforting, an echo of the times Slade had sat by a much younger Tim Drake's bedside and comforted him after his nightmares of losing his eyes.
Lulled by another Tim's feeling of comfort around his father figure, Tim finally fell asleep.
Next: Meeting of Minds