Fic: "Support" by kyrdwyn (PG)
Title: Support
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: PG
Series: Beloved
Fandom: Batman (comics)
Pairings/Characters: Tim Drake, Oracle
Summary: An unexpected person provides Tim some support.
Warnings: AU. Dark AU.
Beta: None
Previous Parts: Beloved | Confusion | Revelation | Conversation | Dead Man's Memories | Maternal Devotion | Protégé | Exposure | Retaliation | Rescue | Meeting of Minds | Breakdown
"You okay, son?"
The computerized voice cut into the thoughtless state Tim had fallen into after he'd exhausted himself with his tears. His head shot up, but he was alone in his room.
Well, not completely alone, he amended. The monitor on the wall showed the softly glowing Oracle mask. Right, Oracle had been watching, meaning that everyone back in the meeting room had probably watched him break down. "Leave me alone," he said, putting his head back down on his knees.
"You left rather abruptly--"
"And I'm sure you followed me, and everyone saw my breakdown. No secrets from Oracle, right? Got spies and cameras everywhere, watching everything, exposing everyone's secrets to the world." He knew he sounded bitter, but he didn't care.
Oracle was silent for a long moment, then said softly, "No one other than me saw that, Timothy, and I didn't record it."
Tim's head shot up again at the sound of that voice, not a scrambled voice, but a real one. And one that was male, warm, compassionate, and familiar.
Jim Gordon's face looked back at Tim from the monitor, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Everyone is entitled to break down. I only watched to ensure you wouldn't try to hurt yourself.
"Commissioner," Tim said on a shaky breath, trying to get himself back under control.
"Not since Bruce Wayne decided I wasn't a team player. But it's nice to hear I'm still Police Commissioner in your world."
Tim nodded, getting up and putting on his eye patch before moving toward the monitor. "The only commissioner we trust in Gotham."
"What about Barbara? What does she do in your Gotham?" he asked hesitantly.
"She's Oracle in our world."
Gordon paused. "Is she..." he glanced over his shoulder, and as he moved, Tim saw Barbara Gordon, in her wheelchair, at another set of monitors.
Tim sighed. "Yes. The Joker, in my world."
Gordon nodded. "Batman, in ours. Took offense to Batgirl operating in Gotham. After he'd killed the Joker."
"God," Tim said, running a hand over his face.
"You don't want Batman dead," Gordon said. "You looked unhappy during the meeting."
"I can't want him dead," Tim said. "We don't kill in my world. I can't go back there if I've got his blood on my hands." Tim sighed. "But this isn't my world, so I don't get a say in that." Not that he wouldn't have blood on his hands, if Batman and Raptor were killed, as he'd helped in the process that led to their deaths.
"Looked like something set you off in there."
Tim chuckled bitterly. "The man underneath Dr. Mid-Nite's cowl here . . . is a villain in my world. One who has tried to kill Superman numerous times, mind controlled my best friend to try to kill his friends, including me, gone after my world's Batman both in his hero and civilian identities, and, well, would have no problems selling out the human race so long as he survived. Hearing him argue that Batman should live... I can't--" Tim broke off, shaking his head. "I want to go home," he whispered, "and I'm staring to fear I won't ever be able to." This Jim Gordon was a comforting to talk to as his world's, or Tim wouldn't be saying that.
"I'm afraid I can't help you with that, but I can keep the others from disturbing you for a while?"
"Please," Tim said, sighing. He glanced at the bed. "I would appreciate that."
Gordon smiled. "Get some sleep, Timothy. I'll get Barbara to look into ways of getting you home."
"Thanks, Commissioner."
The screen faded to black, and Tim dimmed the lights in the the room. He removed his boots and curled up in the bed, taking off the eye patch and setting it on the small bedside table. He stared at the patch, thinking of the man who had take his eyes, and the man in his universe who had adopted him.
"I love him, I hate you," he whispered to the Bruce that was in this world, the one who had taken his eye. "If you do die, I won't mourn you. I will ask Bruce for his forgiveness, but I won't mourn you."
He turned over so his back was to the patch and the screen, closing his eyes. He sighed and fell asleep.
Next: Plans
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: PG
Series: Beloved
Fandom: Batman (comics)
Pairings/Characters: Tim Drake, Oracle
Summary: An unexpected person provides Tim some support.
Warnings: AU. Dark AU.
Beta: None
Previous Parts: Beloved | Confusion | Revelation | Conversation | Dead Man's Memories | Maternal Devotion | Protégé | Exposure | Retaliation | Rescue | Meeting of Minds | Breakdown
"You okay, son?"
The computerized voice cut into the thoughtless state Tim had fallen into after he'd exhausted himself with his tears. His head shot up, but he was alone in his room.
Well, not completely alone, he amended. The monitor on the wall showed the softly glowing Oracle mask. Right, Oracle had been watching, meaning that everyone back in the meeting room had probably watched him break down. "Leave me alone," he said, putting his head back down on his knees.
"You left rather abruptly--"
"And I'm sure you followed me, and everyone saw my breakdown. No secrets from Oracle, right? Got spies and cameras everywhere, watching everything, exposing everyone's secrets to the world." He knew he sounded bitter, but he didn't care.
Oracle was silent for a long moment, then said softly, "No one other than me saw that, Timothy, and I didn't record it."
Tim's head shot up again at the sound of that voice, not a scrambled voice, but a real one. And one that was male, warm, compassionate, and familiar.
Jim Gordon's face looked back at Tim from the monitor, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Everyone is entitled to break down. I only watched to ensure you wouldn't try to hurt yourself.
"Commissioner," Tim said on a shaky breath, trying to get himself back under control.
"Not since Bruce Wayne decided I wasn't a team player. But it's nice to hear I'm still Police Commissioner in your world."
Tim nodded, getting up and putting on his eye patch before moving toward the monitor. "The only commissioner we trust in Gotham."
"What about Barbara? What does she do in your Gotham?" he asked hesitantly.
"She's Oracle in our world."
Gordon paused. "Is she..." he glanced over his shoulder, and as he moved, Tim saw Barbara Gordon, in her wheelchair, at another set of monitors.
Tim sighed. "Yes. The Joker, in my world."
Gordon nodded. "Batman, in ours. Took offense to Batgirl operating in Gotham. After he'd killed the Joker."
"God," Tim said, running a hand over his face.
"You don't want Batman dead," Gordon said. "You looked unhappy during the meeting."
"I can't want him dead," Tim said. "We don't kill in my world. I can't go back there if I've got his blood on my hands." Tim sighed. "But this isn't my world, so I don't get a say in that." Not that he wouldn't have blood on his hands, if Batman and Raptor were killed, as he'd helped in the process that led to their deaths.
"Looked like something set you off in there."
Tim chuckled bitterly. "The man underneath Dr. Mid-Nite's cowl here . . . is a villain in my world. One who has tried to kill Superman numerous times, mind controlled my best friend to try to kill his friends, including me, gone after my world's Batman both in his hero and civilian identities, and, well, would have no problems selling out the human race so long as he survived. Hearing him argue that Batman should live... I can't--" Tim broke off, shaking his head. "I want to go home," he whispered, "and I'm staring to fear I won't ever be able to." This Jim Gordon was a comforting to talk to as his world's, or Tim wouldn't be saying that.
"I'm afraid I can't help you with that, but I can keep the others from disturbing you for a while?"
"Please," Tim said, sighing. He glanced at the bed. "I would appreciate that."
Gordon smiled. "Get some sleep, Timothy. I'll get Barbara to look into ways of getting you home."
"Thanks, Commissioner."
The screen faded to black, and Tim dimmed the lights in the the room. He removed his boots and curled up in the bed, taking off the eye patch and setting it on the small bedside table. He stared at the patch, thinking of the man who had take his eyes, and the man in his universe who had adopted him.
"I love him, I hate you," he whispered to the Bruce that was in this world, the one who had taken his eye. "If you do die, I won't mourn you. I will ask Bruce for his forgiveness, but I won't mourn you."
He turned over so his back was to the patch and the screen, closing his eyes. He sighed and fell asleep.
Next: Plans