Ficlet: (Un)Spoken | DCU | Jason/Tim, (Jason/Bruce), Alfred | PG-13 | 1/1
Title: (Un)Spoken
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Pairing: Jason/Tim, (Jason/Bruce), Alfred
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 623
Prompt: For hc_bingo: Telepathy: Sudden Onset; For 50_darkfics: Stake; For au_bingo: Fantasy & Supernatural: Author's Choice (Telepaths)
Summary: Tim hears the murmured conversation long before the door to his room opens.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Nineteenth in the (Un)Familiar-verse; Follows (Un)Forgiven.
(Un)Spoken
Tim hears the murmured conversation long before the door to his room opens, and for a moment, ignores it, curled up on his side, cocooned beneath heavy blankets, safe.
He wants to go back to sleep, to pretend this never happened, but he can't let himself, after so long held under with Alfred's sedatives, the needle stuck in his IV line every time he came up, without fail. That's all he can really remember now, through the haze of pain and sudden emptiness, panic, the endless loop of, Jason? Where's Jason? that's still filling his brain, squeezing his mind, even days after everything went completely wrong.
He knows he came up fighting those first few times, his teeth out, hands trying to form claws, but even that's fuzzy now, more an anecdote from the last time Alfred checked on him, the old man explaining what'd happened so matter-of-factly, but quiet, calm, and... occasionally worried.
Tim isn't so sure he deserved to be treated so kind after... after what he and Jay did.
He didn't mean to get bonded to Jason, to the Wolf. He... he'd hated him. And Jason hated him.
He didn't mean to let the Wolf try to tear him in half, either, the vague impressions of teeth snapping at him while Jason mated with him still haunting him, terrifying him, drawing him. He knows Jay belongs to Bruce. Knows it. But he just wants....
Anxiety in his throat, he blinks at the light spilling in through the door as Jason comes in, Bruce and Alfred with him. This has to be it. He'll be kicked out, booted from the team and the family, maybe even... staked.
“This better work. Out of ideas,” Bruce says, his hands shoved down into his pockets.
“Tim....” Jason seems to cry in a long, pained wail as he drops into the chair next to the bed, laying a gentle hand over Tim's arm through the blankets.
Alfred hangs back with Bruce, shaking his head slightly after flipping on the bedside lamp. “Poor boys. Never should've happened. I should've seen.”
Tim can only shiver with his fear, trying to burrow further into the blankets as he feels cobwebs stretching across the cavernous emptiness in his brain where his... his mate should be. “Jason,” he starts with a whimper, desperate to feel that connection again, as wrong as it was. “Can't feel you.”
“Just talk to me, Tim. Come on,” Jason says, his voice suddenly seeming far away, though he's right there, his hand tugging at the blankets to try to coax Tim out. “You've gotta say something.”
“But....” Shoving the blanket back just enough so he can see Jason's face properly, Tim blinks up at him from his cocoon, still sore in places he doesn't want to think about. “I did.”
“Take it easy, okay?” Jason looks tired as he brushes Tim's hair back, strokes his cheek. “Can't believe I did this. Shouldn't have touched him.” But this time, his voice is nearer again, loud. Tim can feel it inside his head, filling that empty place, drawing in closer, and-
And Jay's lips haven't moved.
Ice floods Tim's veins with the realization, his eyes widening as he pushes up in the bed, and he tries to scream, “Jason!” suddenly hearing his own voice in stereo, one loud and clear, the other a hoarse whisper. His throat hurts with disuse, as if he hasn't spoken in a week.
“What's happening!?” he screams again, to the same end, hurling himself into Jason's arms in desperate need of the safety there.
All at once the room is filled with a deafening cacophony of voices, panicked, the murmur from before magnified to infinity, and Tim's attempt to shield himself from it with hands clamped over his ears as Jason cradles him is utterly futile.
Something is very wrong.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Pairing: Jason/Tim, (Jason/Bruce), Alfred
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 623
Prompt: For hc_bingo: Telepathy: Sudden Onset; For 50_darkfics: Stake; For au_bingo: Fantasy & Supernatural: Author's Choice (Telepaths)
Summary: Tim hears the murmured conversation long before the door to his room opens.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Nineteenth in the (Un)Familiar-verse; Follows (Un)Forgiven.
(Un)Spoken
Tim hears the murmured conversation long before the door to his room opens, and for a moment, ignores it, curled up on his side, cocooned beneath heavy blankets, safe.
He wants to go back to sleep, to pretend this never happened, but he can't let himself, after so long held under with Alfred's sedatives, the needle stuck in his IV line every time he came up, without fail. That's all he can really remember now, through the haze of pain and sudden emptiness, panic, the endless loop of, Jason? Where's Jason? that's still filling his brain, squeezing his mind, even days after everything went completely wrong.
He knows he came up fighting those first few times, his teeth out, hands trying to form claws, but even that's fuzzy now, more an anecdote from the last time Alfred checked on him, the old man explaining what'd happened so matter-of-factly, but quiet, calm, and... occasionally worried.
Tim isn't so sure he deserved to be treated so kind after... after what he and Jay did.
He didn't mean to get bonded to Jason, to the Wolf. He... he'd hated him. And Jason hated him.
He didn't mean to let the Wolf try to tear him in half, either, the vague impressions of teeth snapping at him while Jason mated with him still haunting him, terrifying him, drawing him. He knows Jay belongs to Bruce. Knows it. But he just wants....
Anxiety in his throat, he blinks at the light spilling in through the door as Jason comes in, Bruce and Alfred with him. This has to be it. He'll be kicked out, booted from the team and the family, maybe even... staked.
“This better work. Out of ideas,” Bruce says, his hands shoved down into his pockets.
“Tim....” Jason seems to cry in a long, pained wail as he drops into the chair next to the bed, laying a gentle hand over Tim's arm through the blankets.
Alfred hangs back with Bruce, shaking his head slightly after flipping on the bedside lamp. “Poor boys. Never should've happened. I should've seen.”
Tim can only shiver with his fear, trying to burrow further into the blankets as he feels cobwebs stretching across the cavernous emptiness in his brain where his... his mate should be. “Jason,” he starts with a whimper, desperate to feel that connection again, as wrong as it was. “Can't feel you.”
“Just talk to me, Tim. Come on,” Jason says, his voice suddenly seeming far away, though he's right there, his hand tugging at the blankets to try to coax Tim out. “You've gotta say something.”
“But....” Shoving the blanket back just enough so he can see Jason's face properly, Tim blinks up at him from his cocoon, still sore in places he doesn't want to think about. “I did.”
“Take it easy, okay?” Jason looks tired as he brushes Tim's hair back, strokes his cheek. “Can't believe I did this. Shouldn't have touched him.” But this time, his voice is nearer again, loud. Tim can feel it inside his head, filling that empty place, drawing in closer, and-
And Jay's lips haven't moved.
Ice floods Tim's veins with the realization, his eyes widening as he pushes up in the bed, and he tries to scream, “Jason!” suddenly hearing his own voice in stereo, one loud and clear, the other a hoarse whisper. His throat hurts with disuse, as if he hasn't spoken in a week.
“What's happening!?” he screams again, to the same end, hurling himself into Jason's arms in desperate need of the safety there.
All at once the room is filled with a deafening cacophony of voices, panicked, the murmur from before magnified to infinity, and Tim's attempt to shield himself from it with hands clamped over his ears as Jason cradles him is utterly futile.
Something is very wrong.
~*~*~*~