In the afternoon following Tim's break up with Bart, Tim has his own very Timmish failure to cope. Dick tries to help but as always, there's so much more than the obvious going on with Tim that Dick is forced to just accept that for now, all he can do is hold on. Dated to Wednesday, November 5

( You here at last on the ground, me in midair )

Not rain, nor sleet, nor being aged down to a tiny tot will stop a Robin from doing his job. Luckily, Dick knows that and takes Tim out for patrol. Tim's asleep on his feet by the time it's done and bird boy snuggling is accomplished. The next morning, it's all business again. Set October 31 and November 1

( To mix light into the gray. )

Dick's not the only one checking on his people. Wee!Tim tracks down Morgan and they have a nice little chat.

( Misplaced Maternal Affection )

[Dated to November 5, Tim and Bart have a talk before dawn and agree that the oncoming day will see each of them as something new: single and alone]There was a bird singing outside the window, heralding the coming day, though the sky was still dark the edges just starting to regain their color. Tim couldn't sleep, his head on Bart's shoulder, ( Read more... )

"So this is the treehouse. Three of us live here. All except Dairine." Tim led Dick up the stairs that wound around the tree trunk, spiraling up to the landing of the first landing, high above the forest floor. It was dark there and Tim didn't stop, just continued up to the second floor. "This level is mostly storage right now. There aren't ( Read more... )

Tim raised an eyebrow right back at Dick, "There are people who own dogs and they breed but no, there's not puppies like you mean. There's not exactly an economy on the island for that matter. It's entirely socialized ( Read more... )

There was no window in the snug inner room of the treehouse. No way for the sun to creep in and remind the sleeping mind what time it was. Just lamps that burned low, giving enough light to see by but not to awaken and the stove in the center of the room that glowed red with dying coals. With the warmth it gave off, there was nothing in the dimly ( Read more... )

This wasn't supposed to be the way it happened. Living through everyday like it wasn't quite right. Finishing moves in ways that were reminscent of training that he didn't actually have. Having dreams that were full of people that didn't exist and a place that didn't make sense. His life had never taken him in that direction. Every year since ( Read more... )

The work on the treehouse was solid, done by hand at speed--great speed--without magic, it had lasted past the sudden reversal of all arcane powers. Robin had checked it all over carefully, testing the strength, the support, the work and determined that it would hold which was an unexpected bonus. He climbed up to the first floor and settled ( Read more... )

The sky was lightening towards dawn, turning that strange purpled-grey, draining the color out of the world. He didn't really need his starlight lenses at this point, not with as good as his night vision was, but he left them on as the fog began to disperse. The nights had been even more quiet than usual this weekend, thanks to the strange coma ( Read more... )