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#as far as Jason is concerned he got hit by that car within moments of being pulverized exploded and buried
jasontoddenthusiastt · 3 months
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Jason never got to be 16. makes me sad.
Not to deny that Jason not being able to make it to 16 in his first life is sad, but I mean he did technically end up making it, and he made it to 17 and 18 and 21 and so on and so forth, it just happened "in round two" so to speak.
What I think is sadder though, is that depending on whether he was 15 or 14 years old when this happened:
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There are one of two ways he would've spent his sixteenth year.
Option 1 (if he was 15 at the time of his ressurection):
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(This is 1 year post initial hospitalization)
Or Option 2 (if he was 14 at the time of his ressurection):
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(And this is 2 years post initial hospitalization, 1 year post escape from that facility)
Happy sweet 16th, Jason John Doe #265 :)
Batman Annual (1961-) #25
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mochegato · 3 years
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Hope on Board
Chapter 9 – Making it Official
Chapter 1     Chapter 8
“What the fuck is with all the stunts?” Red Hood griped, landing his punch on the fourth of Scarecrow’s henchmen in the last minute.  Luckily, this area of the hospital gave them enough room to maneuver.  Unluckily, the pharmacy where the rest of Scarecrow’s henchmen were barricaded had entirely glass walls.  Good to get in.  Bad for stealth.  The henchmen inside knew they were coming, but then again so did the hostages.
“What do you mean?” Nightwing asked innocently landing his triple flip on top of a henchman and using his momentum to swing into the man next to him, knocking him out as well.  He bounced from that to spin into a punch, the velocity from the spin adding force behind the punch, making it powerful enough to break the henchman’s jaw. He surreptitiously glanced at the hostages before ducking the haymaker thrown by another henchman.
“He means you’re being extremely extra right now.  Wait… oh my God!  Which one is she?” Signal exclaimed, excitedly searching the hostages while he kicked one henchman in the chest hard enough to send them into a far wall, dodging another’s punch to punch him back in his unprotected side.
“The baby mama is in there?” Red Hood cut in.  “Which one is she?”
“Hood!  Not having this conversation right now,” Nightwing reprimanded sternly.
“Oh, calm down.  All these guys are out,” Hood dismissed him.
“But the extensive amounts of surveillance cameras are not,” Nightwing hissed out.
Red Hood rolled his eyes. “Oracle?”
“On it.  Five seconds of video gone,” Oracle’s voice sounded over the coms.
“Thank you,” Nightwing sighed.
“Okay, now that that’s taken care of, let’s go save your baby mama,” Signal responded with a grin before jumping through the window at the far side of the room, as far away from the hostages as possible, tackling two of the henchmen in the process.
“Back away or I start shooting with this one,” the lead henchman growled, holding a gun to Marinette’s head.
Nightwing froze.  His eyes widened in panic.  Red Hood and Signal took note of Nightwing’s response and quickly turned from laidback to tense.  “Alright, calm down.  Think about this.  You shoot her, I shoot you,” Red Hood snarled.  “Only I won’t kill you right away.  I’ll do it slow and painfully.  One shot at a time in the most pain inducing spots possible.  Believe me when I say I know all of them.”  The henchman looked over to the other vigilantes discretely. “They won’t stop me.  I promise you.”
Signal nodded slightly to show his agreement without taking his eyes off the other five henchmen in the room.  Three of which were standing in front of the other hostages.  The other two were shoveling the last of the drugs they came for in their bags.
The lead henchman narrowed his eyes and pushed the gun harder against Marinette’s temple.  She swallowed a whimper of pain, refusing to give him that satisfaction.  “Sounds like she’s important to you then.  So it seems like as long as I have her, I have my escape,” he jeered back at Hood.
Hood growled in response, but made no move to get closer.  Marinette’s mind was reeling.  This was now a standoff and she was the keystone.  Someone had to do something.  Maybe if they could get away from the other hostages she could do something… she just needed to figure out a plan, which would be significantly easier if she was familiar with the bats and how they usually thought and acted.  She would use her nausea to throw up on him if she didn’t think he would just shoot her for it.
“Boys, grab a hostage and let’s go,” the lead hostage commanded.
Damn it!  She no longer had time.  She needed to act.  Some of those hostages wouldn’t be able to move and there were children in the group. She stuffed down her fear.  She felt nothing.  She was empty.  Except she wasn’t she had a baby now, she wasn’t just risking herself, she was risking the baby too so she couldn’t just fight and take the attention all onto herself. She needed a diversion.  She sent a furtive look to her purse on the far side of the pharmacy and made eye contact with Tikki.  She gave a slow nod and watched Tikki fly off to one of the racks of drugs.  She tensed in anticipation.  
She waited for the sound of whatever she was going to do and acted as soon as she heard it.  She only spared a second to note a rack of drugs falling over taking out one of the henchmen.  Having expected it, she recovered considerably quicker than the rest of the people in the room.  She used the lead henchman’s momentary lack of attention to grab the hand holding the gun against her head and push it past her head while twisting under his arm to shove him toward the vigilantes.  She yanked the gun out of his hand as she shoved him.
She took a second to take stock of the situation.  Four henchmen left.  All had dropped their bags of drugs to focus on getting out alive.  Two headed for the vigilantes.  One headed for the henchman under the rack, must be a friend or relative, she thought vaguely.  It was the fourth that concerned her though.  He was heading for the little girl tucked into her father’s side, probably still seeking a hostage to get away safely.  She turned the safety on the gun, or at least that’s what she hoped she did, and threw it at his head as hard as she could.  
The gun made contact, offsetting his balance.  He struggled to recover and Marinette slid into his legs in a heroically miscalculated gesture.  He fell back instead of forward and landing with his legs on Marinette.  She had enough time to curl into a ball protecting her stomach before he kicked her in anger, the impact pushed all the air out of her lungs.  She felt the pain radiate throughout her back.
“You fucking bitc…” he never got the chance to finish his insult.  Nightwing’s hand was on his throat lifting him up and away from her in an instant.  Marinette looked up in awe for a moment and scrambled back over to the other hostages to make sure they were okay.  Within a few minutes, the room was flooded with police and the henchmen had been hauled away and were getting put into police transports while the hostages were brought out into the atrium of the hospital to wait to give their statements.
Red Hood helped Marinette up gently and personally guided her out to the atrium after all the other hostages had been led out.  “Thanks for the help back there.  Impressive job keeping calm and taking advantage of the distraction.”
Marinette hummed. “Thank you guys for saving us. You were very intimidating.”
Jason hummed back. “Yeah, I’m good for that.  I’m the bad boy of the bat boy band.  Now, interesting use of a gun and all, and I’m really glad it worked, but why, and I can’t stress this enough, the fuck didn’t you just shoot him?” Hood asked bemused.
“I’ve never fired a gun. He was between me and the hostages.  If I missed, I might have hit one of the hostages.  I’m better at throwing.  I knew I wouldn’t miss if I threw it,” she shrugged, still catching her breath.  “If I couldn’t get to him after the hit, I knew one of you would.”
Red Hood nodded in contemplation.  “Solid reasoning.  I’ll go with that.  Remind me to teach you to shoot someday.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.  Next time I see you, we’ll set it up,” she said dismissively and let out a strained chuckle.  
Red Hood grinned.  “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Marinette nodded slightly, her face took on a look of concentration and she started breathing deeply again.
“Woah, wait.  That’s her?” Duke exclaimed, peeking around the corner to take a look.  “Damn, you did good.”  He repositioned so he could properly size her up without being too obvious.  At which point, she promptly turned to a trash can and threw up.  He wrinkled his nose in disgust.  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”
“She has really bad morning sickness.  Shut it.” Nightwing growled, handing off the last henchman to the police.  
“And that’s why I’m going to pretend like I didn’t see that,” Signal explained like he was explaining to a child.
Nightwing huffed at him and quickly moved over to check on Marinette.  He reached out to rub her back like he would normally, but pulled his arms back at the last second.  That was too familiar for him right now and she might not appreciate a stranger touching her.  Plus he didn’t know how hard the guy had hit her.  Her back might be bruised for a while.  He would have to check it out later.  “Are you alright, miss?”
“Miss,” Red Hood mocked him quietly, but made sure the coms could catch it as he followed the police cars taking the henchmen they had captured to prison.
Nightwing looked up to glare in his direction but didn’t respond.  “It’s okay.  I’m not contagious.  I’m just pregnant.”  She waved his concern away before moving toward a bench to sit.  
Nightwing helped her sit with a charming smile.  “Congratulations.  I’m sure you and your boyfriend are very excited.  But, are you alright after being held captive?  How is your back?”  His voice got nervous seeing her react by cocking her head to the side for a second before frowning and turning away.  “…Are you not?” he asked carefully.
“Hm?” she hummed in question. She looked back up at him with a confused scowl before the realization spread across her face.  “Oh!  No, yes. Yes I’m fine, or will be and I think I’ll just have bruises, nothing broken and we’re very excited.”  She gently laid her hand on her belly.  “I just realized I don’t know what we are.  We haven’t had that discussion.  Ugh.  I need to lay down for a second.  Excuse me.” She walked herself back down until she was lying flat on the bench with her eyes closed and breathing deeply.
“Of course, sorry miss,” Nightwing responded awkwardly.  He just realized he thought of her as his girlfriend, but they hadn’t discussed their relationship at all.  They knew they wanted to parent together, but not how they wanted their relationship to go or where they were.  He was fine with letting the relationship progress naturally without titles, but she might want something more concrete.
“It’s okay.  At least this suffering is productive.  I’m going to get something amazing out of it.” She offered him a weak smile without opening her eyes and returned to breathing deeply.  
He smiled gently and answered quietly.  “That’s a good way to think about it.”  He wanted to brush her hair out of her eyes and kiss her, but he reminded himself he couldn’t.  He backed off to check on the other victims, glancing back to her every few minutes. She had finally sat back up and her eyes were now open, but that hurt more.  Instead of the bright, hopeful eyes he was used to, they now looked pained.
He wanted to hold her so badly it physically hurt to hold back.  But he couldn’t do anything, not right now, not like this.  He wasn’t her boyfriend right now.  He wasn’t Dick Grayson, he was Nightwing, who she’d only just met.  The distance grated on him.  It burned his chest.  He needed to leave.  He wouldn’t be able to stay this close to her for much longer without hugging her and comforting her.  If his eyes caught on her unsettled, worried eyes one more time, he was going to slip.
He clenched his fists and set his jaw.  He had to act now.  He looked over to Signal, catching his eye and nodding to him.  Signal nodded back in understanding.  Nightwing snuck out past the police and grappled a few buildings away.  He tucked himself behind a half wall and changed back into his civilian clothes. “Hood can you please grab my stuff on your way back?” he called over the coms.
“What am I?  Your errand boy?” He groused.
“Please, Hood.”  The vulnerability in his voice was so potent, Hood felt guilty teasing him any further.
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.
“Thank you,” he called as he ran back to the hospital.  “Marinette!” Dick yelled pushing his way through the people standing around waiting for the police to take their statements and let them leave.
“Dick!” Marinette leapt up from her seat and ran to him, jumping into his arms.
Dick held her tightly, cradling her in his arms and stroking her hair.  He’d known she was fine.  He had just been there not a few minutes before speaking with her about her and the baby.  He knew she was fine, but holding her in his arms was different.  He hadn’t realized how fast his heart had been pounding until it started returning to a normal pace with her in his arms.
“How did you know?” she mumbled into his neck.
“You had an appointment here a little bit ago and weren’t answering your phone,” Dick explained, pulling away to check her over.  He needed to see for himself she was okay.  He patted down her arms and legs and ran his hands over her chest and belly, reassuring himself she was fine before he finally let out the breath he had been holding.
“If you wanted to feel me up, I’m sure we could find an empty office,” she smirked at him.  
He spluttered a bit and blushed.  “I wanted to see for myself that you were okay.”  He pulled her back into his arms and buried his head in her neck, breathing in her scent.  He kept her in his arms for a few minutes before speaking again.  “I’m going to have to give a new answer for my favorite hero from now on,” he chuckled.
Marinette froze and pulled away, fear evident in her eyes.  “What?”
“After your heroics earlier. I have a new hero.”  He looked at her with mock awe.  She rolled her eyes and pushed his face away, but stayed firmly in his arms, still too dazed to think about what he had said.  “You’ve met the Gotham heroes now.  Ready to change your favorite?”
“I did mention the very many times Chat saved my life, right?” She reminded him with a strained voice, playing along with the attempt to lighten the atmosphere, but only just.
“But Nightwing saved your baby.  Chat can’t say that,” Dick pointed out with a grin, playing up the joke, but it had the opposite effect.  Both of their faces went slack at the comment.  She launched herself deeper into his arms as tears started falling.  He tightened his arms around her.  “I was so worried about you.”  He pulled away just far enough to cup her face and stare in her eyes.  “I was scared I wouldn’t get to see you again or you’d get hurt or lose the baby.  What were you thinking?”  
“I… I was thinking once they took them hostage, someone was going to die, maybe all of us.  I was thinking there were people who couldn’t move well no matter how much they were threatened or hit.  The henchmen weren’t going to put up with that.  And there were kids that could be easy hostages.  I couldn’t let them take them.  I had to do something.  There was an opportunity to do something and I could.  Someone had to.  The bats couldn’t without me getting hurt so it had to be me.”
Dick’s heart clenched tighter.  He understood that motivation.  They all did. That was one of the reasons they did what they did.  They couldn’t just not help if they had the ability to do so.  And he understood why it had to be her.  But at the same time, he couldn’t watch her in danger like that. His heart stopped when the henchman she hit turned to attack her.  And when the man had a gun to her head…  He laid his forehead on hers and squeezed his eyes shut.  All the panic and fear he had pushed down in order to function came to the surface and the tears started falling.  “Please don’t… please don’t do that again.  I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, either one of you.”
“Hey, hey,” she wiped away her tears to gently bring his face up to hers and give him a hopefully convincing calm look.  “It’s okay. I’m okay.  Nightwing and Signal and Red Hood were here to protect me.  I mean, how could things go wrong?”
Dick’s face fell and he held her closer because he knew exactly how it could have gone wrong. All the many ways it could have gone wrong.  He’d already envisioned all of them, every unlikely, preposterous, ridiculous way it could have gone wrong, he’d pictured it.  “Marinette, stay with me tonight.  Just to cuddle.  Just so I can know you’re okay.” He rushed to add anticipating her reaction.  “I just… I want to know you’re okay.  Just so I can feel you in my arms.  If it’s too much…”
“Okay,” she interrupted, brushing his face with gentle fingers.
“Okay?”
The hopeful look in his eyes just about broke her heart.  She didn’t think she could deny him anything when he looked at her like that.  “Okay,” she confirmed.  “I’m still a bit shaken too.  I’d like to spend the night knowing you were right there with me, protecting me.”
He crashed his lips into hers and God, he wanted to deepen it.  He wanted to taste her, but he knew he couldn’t yet, not with her nausea as bad as it was.  He settled for gently biting her bottom lip and pulling on it.  She groaned into it.  He could feel her falter like she was holding herself back from more as well. He broke the kiss instead before either of them could do something that would make her sick.
He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers.  “Okay, let’s get you home then.  Maybe we can pick up a snack for you on the way.  You hungry?”  When she nodded, he stood up and guided her out of the hospital.  “Commissioner Gordon?”  He waited for the man to respond before continuing.  “I’m going to take my girlfriend home now.  She’s in no state to give a statement right now.”
Commissioner Gordon raised an eyebrow.  “She looks fine to me.”
“She just threw up and she’s getting weaker.”  Dick motioned to the trash can she had used earlier.
“Sounds like she should stay in the hospital then and get checked out,” he commented critically.
“They can’t really do much more for morning sickness than we can at home,” Dick answered quietly.
Commissioner Gordon’s eyes bulged out and he looked down to her stomach and back up.  “Ah.  Okay. Make sure my officers have your information before you leave.  And congratulations to both of you.”
Marinette smiled weakly at him but Dick gave him a wide grin.  “Thank you.  We greatly appreciate it.  And we aren’t telling people yet, for obvious reasons so if you can keep it under wraps, I’d appreciate it.”  Commissioner Gordon nodded and waved them away.
They stopped to speak with an officer on their way out to make their way to a bakery nearby before heading to Dick’s car.  As soon as they were out of earshot of the people around Marinette finally spoke up. “So… girlfriend?”
Dick grinned down at her. “I was hoping so anyway.”  He stopped and cupped her face again so their eyes could meet.  “Marinette, I’m already picturing my life with you.  I already know I want you there in my life, which I realize is crazy because it’s so fast.  At the same time I know girlfriend doesn’t sound like much considering… everything…”
“Yes!”  Marinette kissed him again.  “That sounds perfect for where we are.  And… I’m already picturing my future with you and the baby too. I like those daydreams.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck with a tired look.  “Now how far exactly is this bakery?  I’d really like to just get back to your place and curl up on the couch with my boyfriend and some delivery and watch a terrible movie.”
He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to cuddle into his side and led her into the bakery they were standing outside of.  “That sounds like a perfect night with my girlfriend.”
“Hey, Marinette’s boyfriend, next time you’re going to be disgustingly cutesy, turn your coms off,” Jason grumbled into the coms.  “We don’t need more people in the family throwing up.”
Chapter 10
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@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123
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awhitehead17 · 3 years
Text
Universal Signs
Chapter 22 / Previous Chapter
A/N: WARNINGS! A panic attack does occur, so be please be aware of that. Something else to be mindful of is that this chapter is FULL of emotions so be prepared, you've been warned!
Also on AO3
Please enjoy! :D
He feels numb.
Tim doesn’t think there’s any other way to describe what he’s feeling in that moment. Sad, disappointed, despondent, happy, elevated, excited. There's whole mixture of emotions stirring inside of him, so when they combine it leaves him overwhelmingly numb.
He doesn’t see the ship take off but he knows when it leaves, there’s a gentle thrum in the air and strong gust of wind that catches him. Tim can’t believe it’s all over, he can’t believe that he’s back on Earth, that he’s almost home. There’s so many thoughts running through his mind along with so many questions he wants to ask and need answers to.
Tim purposely got Kon to drop him off in some fields just outside of Gotham city. The fields are an open space so there’s plenty of room to park and it’s a pretty much abandoned area so it was less likely someone would see them. The main road leading into the city isn’t too far away from the fields either, Tim plans to get to the road and hitchhike back to the city, perhaps someone may offer him a lift out of pity.
Tim shoulders the bag he’s got and continues forward. It’s crazy to think that in the next hour or so he’ll be reunited with his family. What will that be like? To see them all again after who knows how long? Will they be happy to see him?
Before those thoughts could get too far Tim shakes his head and tries to move away from them. If he thinks about it too hard then it’ll become too much to handle. The last thing he wants to happen in that moment is to become too overwhelmed and have some kind of breakdown. He needs to keep it together, just for a little longer because he’s almost there, it’s so close to being over.
Tim makes it to the side of the road and observes the various of vehicles zooming by. When was the last time he saw a car or a truck? Not only that, but the smell of patrol coming from the vehicles too?
Moving his attention away from the vehicles Tim continues on walking down the road, seeing Gotham City far up ahead. It’s currently light out, if he had to guess it may currently be around mid-afternoon, if he walks the entire way back to the city then it would probably be evening by the time he reaches it.
As he travels towards the city it’s easy to get lost in his thoughts, both negative and positive, and it certainly keeps him occupied as he walks over the gravel of the road. It’s not until a car pulls up in front of him that he comes out of his head and back into the present. Tim stops and frowns when he sees it’s a cop car that’s pulled over. He holds his breath as the driver climbs out and makes their way over to him, Tim has no idea on what to expect here, he’s almost tempted to turn back around and run into the trees.
The cop, a man around his mid-thirties wearing a cap and a GCPD uniform, stops a few feet away from him. He’s looking at Tim with an expression showing concern and confusion. “Hey there pal, what are you doing out here?”
Tim knows that he means well, but he does sound a little patronizing.
“I need to get to Gotham City.” Tim tells him without answering his question. How the hell was he supposed to answer that question? I got dropped off by some aliens in a spaceship because I’ve been in space for who knows how long because I was kidnapped and now I’m on my way home. Yeah right.
The cop seems to get the message that Tim wasn’t going to answer the question, he simply nods his head. “Yeah okay, I can give you a lift back. I’m Officer Ryan Peterson.” The man holds up his badge and Tim takes a moment to study it before nodding. The cop puts it away, staring at Tim as if he’s studying him and Tim could only watch back wearily, feeling rather sceptical about this situation. In the end the cop simply frowns and asks, “Have I seen you before, have we met?”
Tim blinks at the unexpectedness of the question. He raises an eyebrow. “No sir, I can’t recall us meeting.” Just because he’s weary doesn’t mean he’s going to be an asshole about it.
“What’s your name pal?”
Tim hesitates before answering, unsure whether to be truthful about it or not. Revealing the truth could make this go two ways. He tells the truth and then the cop takes him home and he gets reunited with his family or the cop could kidnap him and hold him hostage or something. (He’s from a rich family, hostage situations are unfortunately known to happen.)
Eventually he decides to chance it and tell the truth. “My name is Tim Drake.”
The cop’s eyes widen in surprise. He blinks at Tim for a moment as if trying to remember how to speak. “Tim Drake? As in Tim Drake-Wayne, missing son of the Bruce Wayne?”
Tim’s eyes widen in surprise, the cop knows he’s missing, he knows Tim’s family. “Yeah that’s right! Can you take me home? Please.”
“Pal, you’ve been missing for a long time. You’re really alive? Everyone is going to be ecstatic that you’re alive.” The officer gestures him over, “c’mon, let’s get you home and back to your family.”
Without waiting Tim hurries over to the car and climbs into the passenger’s side as the cop climbs into the driver’s seat. He starts the car up and then they’re on the road heading towards Gotham within seconds.
The officer glances at him. “I’m going to need to call this in, I hope you don’t mind. Unfortunately I’ll have to take you to the station before I can take you home.”
Tim feels his heart drop at the news. He shakes his head, almost feeling desperate. “No please. I need to go home. I need to see my family. Please! Once I’m there we can deal with all the legal stuff. I just need to see them.”
Peterson sighs and Tim stares at him pleadingly. The man switches between looking at the road and glancing at him several times before he speaks up sounding resigned. “Okay, fine. How about a compromise? I’ll still call it in but I’ll take you straight home. That sound okay?”
Figuring that’s the best he’s going to get, Tim nods in agreement. The cop smiles and reaches over the dashboard to grab his radio and speaks into it.
“Sir I’ve found Tim Drake-Wayne… No sir, he’s currently sitting right next to me. I was coming back from outside the city and found a boy walking alongside the main road on his own. I pulled over and spoke to him, it’s Tim Drake-Wayne, he looks exactly like the photos too. On my way back, just entering the city now.
No sir, I’m taking him straight home. I know, but he needs to go home first. I’m sure we can deal with the paperwork tomorrow while he reunites with his family tonight. If your daughter were missing wouldn’t you immediately want to be reunited at the first opportunity? Exactly, I’ll take him home, please call Mr Wayne in the meantime and we can continue the case later on. Thank you sir, I will.”
The cop returns the radio back to its place and sends Tim a sheepish smile.
“Sorry about that, really I should take you to the station where we can check you over, check your wellbeing, find out if you’re still in danger and sort paperwork out. We’ll have to definitely to discuss things with you and your family, but that can be at another time.
For now they’ll ring your dad and I’ll get you home. I’m assuming it’s the famous Wayne Manor correct?”
Tim nods and the cop goes quiet. As they travel through the city, Tim stares out of the window in disbelief. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s been in the city, it’s unreal. Eventually they break away from the city and head down a familiar road, as they drive closer and as the Manor comes into view Tim suddenly feels nauseated.
He’s excited and nervous and his stomach is going crazy. The feeling only heightens when they reach the gate to the Manor and Tim finds himself unable to look away. After all this time, he’s finally back. He’s finally home. A small part in the back of his mind comes up with the thought that this isn’t real, this isn’t happening, it’s like a dream and he’s going to wake up at any second.
The cop speaks into the intercom and soon enough the gates open up. Officer Peterson carefully drives through and follows the road up to the front of the Manor, as they approach Tim sees the doors open up. His breath catches in his throat as his family appear on the front steps. There’s Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Jason and Cass. There's another person that Tim doesn’t recognise but he doesn’t pay them much attention.
He’s brought out of his haze when Peterson speaks up next to him. Tim had forgotten where he is for a moment, completely absorbed into seeing his family for the first time in however long.
“You okay pal?” The cops asks sincerely. Tim could only stare at him. Silently blinking. “I know you’ve probably been through a lot and this is overwhelming but everything is okay now. You’re home safe and sound.”
Tim swallows thickly and in robotic movements he nods his head. He tells the copper thank you but barely registers the words as they leave his mouth. It isn’t until the cop gently encourages him that Tim finally moves to get out of the car.
Taking a deep breath Tim opens the door. As soon as his foot hits the ground it’s like he’s been unleashed, Tim shoots out the car and starts running up the stairs, taking two or three at the time, anything to get him closer to his family as soon as possible.
It’s about halfway up the staircase that he collides with someone, he isn’t even entirely sure who he’s hugging but he feels their arms around wrap around him, squeezing so hard that it hurts but Tim isn’t complaining. He wraps his own arms around their shoulders and clings back just as tightly.
After a few seconds he feels himself being moved, it’s only where he’s being picked up and lifted higher. Tim wraps his legs around the person’s torso and adjusts his arms so he’s now hugging their neck.
He isn’t even aware that he’s crying, doesn’t notice it until he has to breathe. He pulls his face away from where he buried it into the fabric covering the person’s shoulder. He takes a long shaky breath but finds he’s unable to control the tears streaming down his cheeks and the way his breath hitches as another sob breaks out of his throat.
There's a hand running up and down his back, a voice speaking unintelligible words into his ear, and the arms around him never loosen up.
After several long moments Tim attempts to get his breathing under control again. He moves away from the shoulder and looks up. Through blurry vision he finds Dick and Jason standing so close just opposite him, they’re watching him with open expressions. Seeing the two of them again makes him sob with uncontrolled happiness.
Tim glances to the side and finally works out that he’s in the arms of Bruce. His adoptive father has him wrapped up securely in a strong embrace.
He squeezes Bruce with his arms again and looks at him. “Bruce.”
Bruce pulls his own face away and he looks back at Tim, a wide relieved smile taking over his face. “Thanks the gods your back Tim. I was so worried. Thank god you’re okay.”
“I missed you.” Tim whispers he rests his head against Bruce’s shoulder again and continues on hugging him, unable to find it in himself to let go.
Eventually Bruce shifts, he begins to slowly drop Tim down to the ground, letting his legs fall from his waist until he’s standing steady on his feet. Tim reluctantly lets his father go, though Bruce must be feeling the same because he keeps a hand on Tim’s shoulder as they take a step apart.
Tim only gets a moment to himself before he’s being wrapped up in another pair of arms and this time he’s much quicker at recognising the person hugging him. Tim sighs as he feels Dick press him closely to his chest, his eldest brother’s arms wrapped firmly around his back and his head resting on top of Tim’s. Unable to help it, Tim sobs again. Overwhelmed by the strong onslaught of emotions.
The hug with Dick doesn’t last as long as it did with Bruce though its long enough for the two of them to be comforted. Once Tim leaves Dick’s arms he’s instantly being crushed by another pair, this time it being Jason’s.
Once he and Jason separate, Tim has a bit more control of himself. He’s continuously taking long deep breaths to try and compose himself, his brain still trying to wrap around the fact that he’s reunited with his family once again.
The next hug he receives is from his sister Cass. While she’s not as broad or built as the others, her hug is just as strong and means just as much. Their height is similar so Tim easily manages to press his head against hers and is able to wrap himself around her body more.
Once they separate Tim hugs Alfred. Seeing the elderly butler who’s practically a grandfather almost makes him break down again. He manages to control himself and is comforted by their hug, much gentler than the others but is just as soothing as the rest.
When they separate Tim takes a moment and wipes his eyes. He’s blinking at each of them as they all smile back. Tim can’t believe it. He’s finally home, back with his family once again.
As if he couldn’t help himself Bruce gets in his space again, his father wraps a single arm around his shoulders and tucks Tim into his side. Tim smiles and goes with it, finding the action reassuring and comforting. Bruce bends down and presses a kiss to Tim’s hair.
“Words cannot describe what I am feeling right now Tim.” Bruce tells him, his voice sounds thick with emotion and Tim could see some tears running down the man’s face. “I’m so happy you’re home.”
“Mr Wayne…”
The moment is interrupted by Officer Peterson who’s still around. Clearly he’s been giving them some space all of this time, if Tim’s being honest he had completely forgotten about the man.
The cop sends Bruce a sympathetic look as he begins to talk. “I know you want to spend time with your son and rejoice, but there are a couple things I need to discuss with you, like legal actions and what the near future will look like for you and your family.”
Bruce takes a deep breath and nods. “Of course. I understand. I want to thank you for bringing my son home.”
Peterson ducks his head. “No thanks needed Mr Wayne, I simply happened to be in the right place at the right time. I found Tim here walking alongside the main road just outside the city. There’s only a couple things I need to cover with you now but we can deal with the rest tomorrow.”
At that Bruce sends Tim a questioning look but doesn’t comment on it as he turns back to pay attention to the cop. Alfred also comes and stands beside them, taking in what was being said. Tim probably ought to pay attention as well because it’s clearly about him but he finds himself not able to. His attention is diverted when Dick appears in front of him and gently tugs him away from Bruce’s side.
Tim now finds himself in front of his siblings and for the first time he takes in their appearances. Dick and Jason both look slightly older, they both look broader too, like they’ve been frequently working out. Their hair styles have stayed the same, at best Dick’s looks a little longer down the back.
Cass appears to be the same as before too. Maybe the only noticeable difference is the way she carries herself, she seems like she’s much more comfortable and confident now.
Something that gets his attention, something that stops him in his tracks for the first time since opening that car door is when he makes eye contact with someone he doesn’t know.
This person seems to be a young teenager, he’s slim, slightly shorter than Tim, has black hair, an olive skin tone. There’s something familiar about him but Tim can’t pinpoint what it is. He knows he’s never met this kid before. The main question is however, what he doing here? He’s been lingering around at the back of the group like he’s not sure on what to do with himself, but he steadily meets Tim’s eyes with a confidence Tim hadn’t been expecting.
The others seem to have finally clicked that the two have noticed each other because his siblings shift about, creating some kind of circle between them all. Dick stands just to the right of the kid and places his hand on his shoulder.
Dick looks at Tim, watching him cautiously. His expression puts Tim on edge, he has no idea on what kind of news he’s about to receive. Who is this kid? They’re obviously all familiar with one another which leads to another question of how long has he been around for? Tim certainly didn’t meet him before disappearing.
“Tim.” Dick gets his attention. His eldest brother now looks almost uncomfortable. “This is Damian. Um, he’s uh, he’s - Damian is Bruce’s biological son.”
Tim blinks. He opens his mouth to say something but quickly shuts it again. Did Dick just say that Bruce has a biological son? As in his adoptive father has a teenage kid that he didn’t know about? He has another brother he was never aware of?
He’s stunned. Upon returning home that is certainly something he never expected to find out. How long has he been gone for!
“None of us knew about Damian.” Jason states firmly while frowning. It’s like he could read Tim’s mind, knowing what he’s thinking. “Bruce didn’t even know himself. Damian was dropped on the doorstep by his mother over a year ago where she left him with no explanations or anything of the sort. It’s like she had enough of Damian and decided to dump him on Bruce.”
As if the news of finding out that Bruce has a biological son wasn’t enough to rock his boat Jason dropping that bomb completely capsizes the boat. Tim feels himself freeze. He blinks at his brother trying to comprehend what he just heard.
“A year ago?” Tim repeats in disbelief. “He’s been around for a year? I’ve been gone for a year!” Tim can’t control the way his voice gets higher.
All of his sibling’s eyes widen at that before a look of sympathy, confusion and sadness washes over them. The change in emotions make Tim feel like he’s missing something else. “What? Don’t tell me there’s another kid or something...”
Dick steps forward and places a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to comfort him but all Tim feels is dread. The action isn’t like what Bruce had done earlier, it feels like Dick is about to deliver some grave news.
“Tim… you’ve been gone for two and a half years.”
Everything stops. No one moves a muscle as Tim just stares back in complete astonishment. That can’t be true…can it?
“Two years… two and a half years… I’ve been gone for two and a half years,” he mumbles underneath his breath trying to understand that information. As he tries to wrap his head around that his chest suddenly tightens and he finds himself unable to breathe. He gasps for air, clutching at his chest. “I can’t breathe. I-I can’t breathe.”
Everything around him blurs and all Tim can focus on is the pain inside his chest. Why can’t he breathe? Two years! He’s been gone for two fucking years? That’s practically three years of his life he’s lost!
His chest is burning now and he thinks he’s crying? At least that is what comes to mind when he feels wetness running down his cheeks. It’s hard to tell at this point.
Something gets his attention. There’s pressure somewhere on his body. He doesn’t know what it is but tries to reach out to it. The pressure moves and his hands are grabbed, Tim clings onto it. Finding the sensation grounding. He still can’t breathe but it’s something.
His hands are moved and now he’s touching something solid, something that’s steadily moving up and down. As well as the pressure Tim tries to focus on it, tries to keep his attention on the movement, it’s surprising when his head starts becoming a little clearer as he focuses on the steady rise and fall of whatever it is.
“Follow my breathing Tim, in and out. Tim can you do that for me, breathe in and breathe out.”
Right, right, breathing… he still can’t breathe, his chest hurts… why can’t he breathe…
“Tim follow my breathing, slowly in and out… copy my movements son…”
Tim’s trying to. The words are telling him to follow the movements and he does try but it’s difficult. As the object rises Tim breathes in and as it falls Tim breathes out. It takes a while but gradually Tim finds as the tightness in his chest eases he’s able to breathe easier.
He takes in one more deep breath before opening his eyes and looking around. In his mind it takes a moment for everything to register. He’s sat on the floor, curled up against someone’s side with his hands stretched out resting on that same person’s stomach.
His chest feels sore as does his head and everything feels a little fuzzy. After a minute he realises that he had a panic attack, a pretty bad one too.
“Tim?”
Tim looks up and finds that it’s Bruce who he’s resting against. Taking another breath Tim pushes himself away from Bruce and sits up. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry I just … yeah.”
Bruce doesn’t comment on what happened and Tim is grateful for that. Instead his adoptive father keeps him sat on the ground for a while, making sure he’s okay before helping him to stand up, and then offering him some support when Tim wobbles.
Tim glances around to find Officer Peterson is still around, looking at Tim with a frown, Dick is hovering just behind Bruce and Jason is up at the top of the stairs overlooking them all. Cass, Alfred and Damian aren’t anywhere to be seen.
“Why don’t we go inside and get some rest? There's been a lot to handle recently.”
Tim nods at Bruce’s suggestion. He feels exhausted. Everything from the overwhelming sensations of leaving the others to being reunited with his family and then experiencing a panic attack has really worn on him.
Bruce says something to the cop and then turns his attention to Tim, together they make their way up the stairs with Dick beside them and Jason watching them approach. Together the four of them enter Wayne Manor.
Tim wishes he’s more with it. He hasn’t seen the place in a long time and wants to appreciate being back home but he’s just too tired to take in all the details. Thankfully Bruce seems to pick up on this, his adoptive father begins to guide him towards the stairs which lead up to where the bedrooms are located.
“Why don’t we get some sleep? We can properly talk once you’re all rested up.”
Time passes in a blur and the next thing Tim is aware of is being tucked into a bed. A soft warm blanket is laid on top of him, a light pressure of a kiss is pressed against his hair and then everything fades away into nothing.
Everything is groggy when Tim wakes up. His head is pounding and he feels exhausted despite just having woken up.
He grips the blanket around him tighter and buries his head deeper into the pillow he’s lying on not wanting to face whatever is going to be thrown his way that day. They’ve been stationed on Krypton for several days so Tim doesn’t think they’ll be leaving any time soon and with the other’s punishments, there’s not a lot they can do. Maybe they’ll look into doing some training that day?
Settling his thoughts Tim takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the pillow as he does so and freezes. Why does it smell so familiar? Is his mind making things up or…
Tim shoots up right on the bed and wildly looks around, taking in his surroundings. It takes a moment for it all to sink in and when it does he slumps aback against the headboard of the bed he’s on.
He’s home. It wasn’t a dream. He really did return to Earth and reunite with his family. How did he forget that?
He’s in one of the guest’s bedrooms in the Manor. The walls and décor are all neutral colours, making it seem open and warm, there were beams of light peaking out of the drawn curtains across the windows.
Tim doesn’t know how to feel about not being in his personal bedroom, obviously they’ve put him in here on purpose. Did they still have his room or did they clear it all out when he disappeared? Tim’s not sure and in that moment he’s not sure if he wants to know.
When he glances around the room again, this time his eyes land on a pile of clothes placed on the desk opposite the bed. Upon seeing those Tim realises he’s still dressed in the clothes he wore back from the ship and realises that he desperately wants a shower. The bag he brought from the ship is there too, sitting on the ground unopened. The policeman must have passed it over to someone and they’ve then brought it in.
Grabbing the clean clothes Tim heads for the ensuite attached to the guest bedroom. It’s an open bathroom with plenty of space and Tim wastes no time in starting the shower up.
He only pauses once he’s taken off the shirt and sees the necklace hanging from around his neck. Tim had forgotten about it. It was the gift Doctor Fate had given him when he sorted out Cassie’s enchanted bracelets. Tim studies it closely, seeing the red gemstone glisten brightly when the light hits it. It’s supposedly a cloaking device but Tim doesn’t know how much he believes that, then again does he have a reason to not trust it?
Deciding to not think about it too much, Tim leaves it on, he then proceeds to take off the rest of his clothes and jumps into the shower.
Once Tim is done with his shower, now feeling clean and refreshed, he heads down to the kitchen. Tim takes his time to get there though, he travels at a slow pace as he takes in the feel for being back at home, seeing the corridors of the Manor that he grew up in and remembering everything that’s occurred in them.
When Tim arrives at the kitchen he finds it occupied by Jason and Alfred. Jason is sat at the kitchen island eating something and playing on his phone while Alfred is by the sink scrubbing dishes.
“Look who’s finally decided to get up.” Jason comments smirking at him as he walks into the room. “We thought you were going to end up sleeping all day.”
Taking a seat next to Jason, Tim frowns. “What do you mean? How long have I been asleep for?”
“About 16 hours. It’s nearly lunch time, you’ve been asleep since yesterday evening.”
Tim blinks. He’s both surprised and not by that news. He must have really needed to rest and recharge to be asleep that long.
“How about some food Master Timothy? You must be feeling rather famished at this point.” Alfred asks observing him from the other side of the room.
Tim freezes when he hears Alfred voice, or rather at the words he said. Master. That’s what he used to call Ra’s Al Ghul when he was first kidnapped. Will he be able to handle hearing it again, and not only that but being called that even in a different context?
“Tim?”
Tim snaps his gaze to the side to find Jason wearily watching him. Tim looks at him for a moment before he realises he had zoned out and still needs to answer Alfred. He looks over at the butler, “Uh sorry, yes please to food Alfred. If you don’t mind.”
Alfred studies him for a moment but doesn’t comment on his behaviour, instead he smiles and starts preparing Tim some food. Tim glances down at fiddles with his fingers anxiously, he’ll need to talk to Alfred about that. Hopefully the butler won’t get offended with Tim asking him to stop, but Tim doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to handle the reminder all the time.
A tense silence fills the kitchen and it makes Tim feel guilty. He doesn’t mean to put Alfred and Jason in an awkward position but he’s grateful that neither of them ask him any questions about anything.
In the end Tim turns and faces Jason who’s still on his phone. Tim stares at it for a long time, taking in the difference from this phone and the one he remembers. It makes him realise that this is just one of many things he’s missed in his two and a half years away.
“How have you been Jason?” Tim asks his brother. He knows a lot of attention will be focused on him but he wants to reconnect with his family too. He wistfully wonders what things he’s missed in his sibling’s lives (beside Damian, that’s an entirely different matter altogether).
Jason side eyes him, pursing his lips as if debating on what to tell Tim. “Up and down.” He says in the end. Tim almost rolls his eyes at the vague answer. “I finished my qualification.”
Tim perks up at hearing that. “Oh really, congrats! So what are you doing now work wise?”
As they discuss Jason’s work, Alfred drops a sandwich in front of Tim and leaves them be. It takes all of Tim’s effort to split his attention between listening to Jason and not being overwhelmed by the sandwich. When was the last time he had normal human food?
They talk for a while, changing from topic to topic but stay away from anything big and heavy. Tim finds out, that other than Damian, thankfully nothing major has changed in anyone’s lives. There’s been job changes and a few family arguments but nothing life changing to say. Tim is relieved to find this out. There's a few things worldwide that he’s missed but Jason’s told him that he can catch up with all that later on, it’s nothing to really fret about.
Their conversation is interrupted when Bruce and Dick enter the kitchen. They’re pleased to see that he’s awake and ask about how he’s feeling while both giving him a hug. Tim soaks in the attention, not minding it at all, and is yet again relieved to find that they don’t ask him any major questions.
However that relief instantly vanishes when Bruce sceptically asks Tim is he’s willing to talk to the police so they could clear some stuff up. Tim freezes, unsure on what to do. In the back of his mind he knew that he would need to talk to the police but he knows that they’ll be asking questions which he doesn’t think he’s ready to answer yet.
In the end he agrees to do it, he goes with Bruce and Dick and they take him to the library where two policemen are waiting. There's the cop from yesterday and the commissioner.
Tim doesn’t tell them anything. After an internal debate on what to do, he refuses to speak about anything that’s happened to him. He doesn’t say where he’s been, who (and what) he’s encountered and nothing about how he returned home. The only information he gives is how he knows he’s no longer in danger, nor is his family, from those who originally took him.
Of course Tim can’t guarantee it but there’s no way he’s saying that Earth may or may not be attacked by some alien assassins. He doesn’t think that’ll go down well.
The police prod him for more details but Tim doesn’t budge on it. Eventually they give in and say they’re only a phone call away when he does want to share more. Bruce sees them out after that while Dick stays behind with Tim.
During the entire conversation Tim could feel Dick watching him, his brother’s concerned gaze never once leaving him the entire time. Tim would snap at him for staring if it were different circumstances. Dick gets up from the chair he’s been sat on and approaches Tim on the opposite couch. His brother crouches down in front of him and places a gentle hand on Tim’s knee, rubbing it soothingly.
“Tim, I know that there’s a lot going on inside your mind and that’s completely understandable, I also get why you may not want to talk to the police but I want you to know if you ever, and I mean it, if you ever want to talk about what happened then I’m happy to listen. I won’t judge, I won’t ask questions, all I’ll do is listen. Please don’t shut us out, you’re not alone, we’re all here for you okay.”
Hearing Dick talk, Tim feels his emotions building up inside of his chest. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to control himself. Opening his eyes back up Tim looks up and meets Dick’s. “Thank you Dick. I’m – I’m just not ready yet. I don’t know when I will be either. There’s so much I need to catch up on, so much that I’ve missed both in our family and around the world. I know you’re there for me no matter what.”
Opposite him Dick looks tearful and Tim feels bad for making Dick like that. Without thinking about it Tim stands up, encouraging Dick to do the same, before he’s giving his brother a hug. Dick instantly hugs him back, resting his head on top of Tim’s.
“I missed you Timmy. Everyday.”
“I missed you too. I never stopped thinking about you from the moment we got separated.”
They only break apart when Bruce enters the room, laughing lightly as they do so. Now alone away from the police, Bruce tells Tim pretty much what Dick said to him. If he wants to talk then he would listen no matter what. Obviously Bruce would like to know the details but he’s not going to force Tim into talking before he’s ready too. Tim appreciates this and politely tells Bruce what he told Dick.
After that the three of them spend a few hours together. As Tim had done with Jason, he gets updates on Bruce and Dick’s personal lives. Other than Damian appearing, nothing major has happened. Dick got a couple work promotions and Bruce’s company currently has the highest numbers it’s ever gotten which is impressive.
Following their catch up, Tim retreats back to the guest room he woke up in. He hasn’t yet found out the current status of his bedroom but Tim figures that he isn’t in that much of a rush to do so.
He crashes onto the bed and buries his face into the pillow. He hasn’t done much that day but he feels exhausted. It’s still sinking in that he’s returned home, he’s back with his family and no longer in imminent danger all the time.
Tim thinks about everything, his thoughts reeling all over the place. He had refused to talk to the police about what happened, not budging in the slightest to give them any details on what happened to him. Tim hadn’t been lying when he said he isn’t ready to talk yet, he needs time to comprehend everything and then he needs to decide if he going to actually come out with the truth  or make up a cover story.
What are the chances his family and the police are going to believe he got kidnapped by aliens? If it didn’t happen to Tim he certainly wouldn’t believe it. They would end up thinking he’s cracked and try to send him to therapy or even ship him to an insane asylum like Arkham.
He could always try telling them half of the truth? Isn’t there a saying along the lines of “the best lies are half-truths”. Tim could pick out areas of what he’s been through but simply leave out details, like the biggest detail being that it all occurred in space.
Tim lets out a groan, he doesn’t know what to do!
For the next few days Tim feels like a ghost. He floats around the Manor not entirely sure on what to do with himself. His family are tiptoeing around him as if the smallest of things may trigger him off, it leaves Tim feeling agitated and frustrated.
On the most part Tim feels fine. Physically he’s okay, just slightly underweight but Alfred is working with him to get him eating regularly again which includes a variety of foods and supplements that he needs to function.
Mentally though is a little bit questionable. Tim knows on the most part he’s okay however there is a bout of paranoia coursing through him, anxiety often comes and goes, he gets flashbacks at random intervals which leaves him feeling disorientated, nightmares happen each night and he often loses track of time (mostly because he forgets he can now actually track it again by using clocks).
More often than not he’s with a family member, they certainly don’t want to leave him on his own nor be too far away from him, so a lot of his time is occupied but those times when he’s not with someone Tim has to try and find something to do. His siblings have taken it upon themselves to write him a list of things he's missed and needs to catch up on so Tim spends a good amount of time browsing the internet researching those things. It ranges from political news to the most recent meme.
Throughout this it doesn’t help that the main thing on his mind is whether he should tell everyone the truth or not. It’s like he’s carrying a massive weight on his shoulders and it’s heavily weighing him down. Thankfully none of them have yet pushed him to talk but Tim can tell they’re itching to ask, it’s only so long until they break their restraint. Tim still hasn’t decided what to do.
At one point, several days after arriving home, Tim is aimlessly wondering the halls of the Manor, taking in all the details he remembers and picks up on anything new that has been added in his absence.
In one particular hallway Tim comes across a painting, it’s a family portrait and looks like it’s been done fairly recently. The picture is of Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Cass. They’re dressed up in formal attire, like something they all would wear to a gala. The men are suits made of different shades of grey with different coloured shirts and ties while Cass is in a simple black dress, it’s plain but it suits her and she pulls it off fantastically.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there staring at the picture, it’s very well painted, uniquely capturing all of their features and the details of their clothing, it’s so good that it could pass as a photograph rather than a painting.
“This took seven weeks to complete. I gifted it to father as a present for his birthday.”
Tim shits his pants when a voice speaks up. He startles badly and snaps his head to the side to find Damian standing nearby looking at him. Tim takes a deep breath and tries to settle his pounding heart. “Jesus christ, don’t do that!”
Damian stares back unimpressed. After a moment his words catch up to Tim and his eyes widen, he glances between the painting and Damian. “You painted this? Holy shit that’s incredible.”
“Thank you Timothy. I was unsure on what to gift father and Richard suggested to do something personal. Father was pleased with it.”
Tim nods still blown away by the apparent talent this kid has. “I can imagine.”
They stand there together silently in the corridor and Tim takes a moment to study Damian. Finding out Damian’s existence had been a shock, one of the two biggest ones upon returning home, and Tim didn’t know how to approach it. He hasn’t spoken to Damian at all since coming back, this in fact has been their first conversation.
Being around the teenager feels off but Tim figures that’s because he doesn’t know him, he isn’t familiar with his presence in the manor and in the family. Tim is still adjusting to being back so there’s already a lot on his plate and this just adds to it.
Tim is aware of Damian’s story, the others have caught him up on it. None of them had been expecting it, even Bruce didn’t know about the kid, so Tim couldn’t be annoyed at that. He still feels off about it though, but deep down he knows he’ll adjust to having Damian around just like all the others had done.
“I was on my way to the library, would you like to accompany me?” Damian asks breaking the silence between them.
Tim blinks, surprised at the offer but nods. “Sure, I’m not doing anything.”
Together they quietly make their way to the library. Being with Damian is different, it doesn’t feel like the kid is itching to ask him a million questions on what happened to him, it’s like he’s content to just let Tim be and Tim finds that refreshing. However it does add more to his conflicting emotions about the kid.
They enter the room and take separate couches. Damian grabs a book from the side while Tim simply plonks down onto a cushion not bothering with anything.
“You had been gone a year when I arrived here. Despite it being that long they never stopped searching for you. Father had private investigators on speed dial, he would jump every time someone called, every event the Wayne’s attended father would plead for your return.”
Tim feels himself stop and he looks at the kid who is only focused on the book in his lap.
“I admit at first I had been jealous of you Timothy. Even though you had not been here you still occupied so much of father’s mind. As that all happened it was Richard who taught me what it is like to be part of the family, who taught me to accept and to care. I hadn’t been an easy addition, I see that now, but we all found common ground in the end. As time went by the search never ended, the hope of you returning was always there.”
At Damian’s words Tim could feel himself welling up. Just hearing that they never stopped looking for him was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He hadn’t even been on Earth but they never stopped looking.
Tim buries his face in his hands and takes a few shaky breaths to collect himself together. He doesn’t know why Damian is telling him these things but he finds that he appreciates it. Damian hadn’t been there when it first happened, he’ll see the whole situation from a different perspective.
That’s enough for Tim to solidify that he wants to get to know Damian. The honesty at the start and the way he opened up about his arrival is enough to convince Tim.
Eventually he drops his hands and glances at Damian. “I’m sorry that’s how your introduction to the family went, it couldn’t have been easy. By the sounds of it, you’ve already been through a lot of character progression and I would like to get to know you. I already know that you can paint, what else do you like to do?”
They talk for a couple hours and Tim finds it interesting. The two of them in fact have very little in common and there’s a clear line where it’s kind of awkward for both of them but Tim does enjoy getting to know the kid. They don’t have to like one another straight away, but this is a good steppingstone, at least that’s what Tim thinks.
Apparently Dick must have similar thoughts because of the proud and pleased grin he sends the two of them when he walks in on their conversation hours later.
Each day is different as it passes by. There are good days and there are bad days. The good days are when Tim’s feeling content and adjusted to being back home. The bad days are when everything comes crashing down on him, the anxiety, the disorientation and even paranoia become too overwhelming for him to handle.
Nightmares are common too, unfortunately Tim has the feeling that they won’t be going away any time soon. They mostly consist of flashbacks of what happened when he had been trapped with Ra’s Al Ghul, mainly of all the torment and torture he had endured.
He knows that his family are concerned and how they’re getting more worried each day, Tim’s even overheard Bruce say to Alfred about getting him to go see a doctor or a therapist. It annoys Tim that Bruce has suggested it but at the same time he understands the reason behind it.
Another mental barrier Tim is facing is focused on his old bedroom. Since returning Tim’s been based in the guest bedroom, it’s quickly becoming his permanent one because he can’t find it in himself to go back to his old one. According to his family his old room hasn’t been touched, meaning it’s the exact same as it had been the day he was kidnapped. Tim finds himself unable to go into the room, it’s like he’ll be forced to remember the Tim that was kidnapped and realise that’s not the same Tim who has returned. He’s different now than to what he was almost three years ago.
It’s been about a week and a half since his return now and Tim still hasn’t spoken about what happened to him, he still refuses to answer any sort of question about his kidnapping and disappearance. Tim’s aware that it isn’t healthy to keep it all bottled up inside but he hasn’t yet decided on whether he’s going to tell them the truth or not. It’s a constant debate he has with himself, even going as far as making a pros and cons list to help him decide on what to do.
It’s only when Jason accidently walks in on him while shirtless that Tim realises he can’t continue with the silence anymore. He finally cracks under the weight of the secrets he’s been hiding from everyone.
After coming out of the shower, Tim had only been dressed in a towel which was wrapped around his waist. Typically he forgot to take clothes into the bathroom with him but he didn’t think of it too much as an issue considering it’s an ensuite. As he had been getting his clothes out to wear for the day, his bedroom door swings open without warning and Jason comes striding in like he owns the place.
Tim is livid at the audacity Jason has to just stroll into his bedroom like that, thank god he had a towel on or else it’ll be extremely embarrassing for both parties involved. Tim turns to scald his brother but stops short when he finds Jason frozen in place staring at him with wide eyes and a horrified expression.
Tim frowns, not understanding Jason’s behaviour. Surely it’s not that much of a shock to see him half naked? Sure he’s not muscular, but its only pale skin on show so what else could there be…
It’s embarrassing how long it takes for it to click and once it does it’s Tim’s turn to be horrified. He feels his heart drop and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.
The scars.
Jason’s just seen all of the scars on his back. All the ones he’s received from the torture he’s endured, where the healing cream had helped close the wounds but left scars behind nonetheless.
The two of them stand there staring at one another for a long time, neither of them moving or saying anything. Tim doesn’t know whether he wants to run and hide or break down crying. How the hell was he supposed to explain the scars? Jason wasn’t supposed to see them, no one was! What’s he going to do?
“Hey Jason, did you ask Tim – what are you guys doing?” Dick’s voice breaks the two of them out of the weird trance they had fallen into. The eldest of the three had come to the room to find out what had been taking Jason so long to ask Tim a question and finds them having a stare off while Tim is undressed.
With no explanations Jason spins around, grabs the front of Dick’s t-shirt and yanks him into the bedroom and slams the door shut behind him. Dick stumbles in and glares at Jason, he crosses his arms over his chest and silently demands for an explanation.
Jason glares back before pining Tim with a look. “Tim turn around.”
Tim continues to stare at Jason in horror, his eyes would occasionally flicker to Dick in the same response. Tim doesn’t know what to do. Both of his brothers are looking at him expectantly, Jason with fire and concern in his eyes and Dick with confusion and worry.
In the end Tim thickly swallows and slowly turns around so his back is to his brothers. He takes controlling breaths to help ground him as the scars are displayed, he ignores the soft gasp that emits from Dick.
After counting to thirty Tim moves again and shoves a jumper on wanting to hide his back from sight. He quickly dresses into some sweatpants too, there’s no way he’s about to have this conversation half naked and dressed in a towel.
The room is filled with a heavy silence and Tim feels vulnerable. He hates it. Jason and Dick are staring at him with pity in their eyes along with concern, anger and genuine sadness. It’s crazy to think that Tim can still read his brothers well even after years apart.
“Tim,” Jason sighs, he runs a hand over his head before settling into a tight posture with his arms crossed over his chest, “we have been ignoring the elephant in the room since you’ve returned out of respect for you and I think it’s time that we finally ask. What the hell happened to you while you were gone Tim? Those scars man… what the fuck?”
Tim slumps onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Jason stays standing while Dick lowers himself onto the opposite end of the mattress.
In that moment Tim knew he couldn’t hold it back anymore. One moment to the next, everything spills out of Tim’s mouth. It’s like a dam has been broken and all the water is gushing out.
Tim tells them everything.
He describes being taken from Earth and waking up strapped to a table, to becoming a slave, how he escaped, how he was saved and looked after and the crazy adventures he ended up being part of. He talks about the aliens and creatures he encountered, the different planets he visited, how he was injured, how he was kidnapped again, how he was tortured followed by being rescued a second time, how he spent days recovering with the others and finally how he returned home.
There are details he missed of course, his mind is in too much of a frenzy to remember everything but he thinks he covers the majority of it. By the end of his story, Dick is hugging him tightly and Jason is sat on the end of the bed. Tears were running down his face, Dick is in the same boat and opposite him Jason appears to be impassive.
Tim sobs into Dick’s chest, holding him tightly as everything comes out. So many emotions coming together and erupting as a noisy and snotty mess.
It takes some time but eventually Tim calms down and wipes his face with his sleeve as he pushes away from Dick. He leans back against the headboard and fiddles with his sleeve.
“So there, that’s what happened to me.” Tim bites out, feeling rather bitter. “Are you finally happy to know? Call me crazy, call me insane because aliens don’t exist or whatever but that’s the truth. Take it or leave it. Those scars are the result of what I have had to endure.”
His brothers remain quiet for a long time, he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He doesn’t push for them to talk however, there’s a lot of information to understand and that’s even if they believe it.
“So aliens took you…” Dick drawls out, looking kind of constipated, “did you ever find out why?”
Tim shakes his head. “Not really. Apparently the one who took me just thought I was interesting or something. Out of the billions of humans there are and he chooses me.” He laughs in disbelief.
“What if he takes you again?” Jason questions suspiciously.
At this point Tim doesn’t know if they’re simply humouring him or if they genuinely believe everything he just told them. Either way he answers their questions the best he could. “Hopefully that won’t happen. I got given this gem, it’s supposedly a cloaking device, as long as I wear it I’m hidden from the League so they can’t track me.”
They fall into silence again and Tim sits there waiting for more questions, or even a disbelieving laugh. When nothing comes Tim frowns and glances at his brothers. “Do you believe me?”
Dick sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “Its certainly a lot to comprehend but I don’t think you would make all of that up. Also it kind of explains why we never found you. You weren’t even on the planet, of course no one would be able find you.”
“That day Tim,” Jason starts, his voice sounds think and he looks haunted, “that day was awful. I don’t even think there’s a word to describe what that day was like really. Turning away just for a moment and then looking back to find you gone…”
It shatters Tim’s heart to see his normally strong-willed brother breaking down. Unable to help himself Tim crawls across the bed and throws his arms around Jason’s neck, capturing him in a hug. His brother doesn’t cry but he hugs back, squeezing Tim tightly.
“I’m sorry,” Tim whispers brokenly, feeling his own emotions rising again, “I’m so sorry you both had to go through that. Every day I thought about what you two had to go through, me disappearing like that, and it was horrendous. I’m so sorry.”
A hand appears on Tim’s back, making him look away from Jason. Dick has moved closer, rubbing a comforting hand across his back. Dick has tears in his eyes again and when he speaks his voice is hoarse with emotion. “It’s okay Timmy, it’s not your fault. We never blamed you. It’s never been your fault. You’re here now right, we got you back, that’s all that matters.”
Tim nods and swallows the bubble that’s formed in his throat. Doing his best to keep control of his emotions, Tim smiles sadly. “Yeah. I’m back. I’m not okay, but I will be.”
He pulls away from Jason and the man wipes his eyes, still stubbornly refusing to cry. Tim snorts softly, he’s pleased to find Jason hasn’t changed all that much. The man looks up, glancing between him and Dick. “So what do you want to do? Do you want to tell Bruce everything you told us or stay quiet about it? Since you were taken by aliens - what the fuck is all that about – the police can’t exactly do anything. They’re still going to want a statement or some shit.”
Tim shakes his head in denial. “No. I don’t want to tell Bruce, at least not yet. Look I know how it sounds, its crazy, the whole thing is just bananas. I don’t know if Bruce will believe it or not and we’re absolutely not telling the authorities! They’ll just straight up send me to a therapist or an asylum.”
Dick and Jason both blink at him and Tim glares back. “I am not going to see a therapist, no matter how much you think I need to. End of discussion.”
His brothers hum and Tim knows that they’ll be revisiting that topic at a later date despite his protests. He decides to ignore it for now, he’ll deal with it when that bridge comes around.
“I will tell him, I promise,” Tim sighs, “Just let me adjust being back home and everything then I’ll tell him. Please don’t tell him, or anyone else.”
They both stare at him for a long time before they look at each other, and even though Tim’s been away for a long time he can still recognise the “over-protective older brothers” looks and silent conversation. Tim pouts, not liking he can’t tell what they’re thinking, he just knows its about him.
They turn back to him a moment later. “We won’t tell anyone, however you have to come to one of us any time there’s some kind of issue or you need someone to talk to about anything.”
Tim sends them a glare, he’s practically being blackmailed for their silence. Huffing Tim throws his arms up dramatically. “Okay fine, I’ll talk to one of you. You both know now anyway, it’ll make it slightly easier to deal with.”
They send him matching smug grins. “Glad to hear it.”
“So I know that you’ve been through some pretty horrific stuff, but there sounds like there was some positive stuff too.” Dick comments sounding intrigued. “What was that team like who saved you? What planets did you visit, how different is space life compared to Earth?”
Tim smiles, now these were the kind of questions he actually doesn’t mind answering. It’s going to be great that he can excitedly tell someone about how mind blowing being in space was, of course ignoring all the bad stuff that happened in between.
Things weren’t perfect, far from it but he’s home, he’s back with his family and he has a group of aliens to thank for that. Tim knows its going to take a while to adjust and settle back into human life, if he ever settles at all, but he gets to live his life knowing something that only others ever dream about.
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leglesstv · 3 years
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THE DARK DAYS BACK– 2021
 I have been struggling with how to start this piece. I guess I should tell you a little about myself.
What I do for a living is not who I am, yeah, I get to blow shit up and its super fun but it’s not what defines me.
I have been a water baby all my life from growing up on the beach to commercial diver.
The ocean or the ocean’s rhythm ebbs and flows within me.
Surfing has been the biggest part of my life for longer than I care to remember. For sure I have been out the water for extended periods before while working on projects overseas. Always with the knowledge that I will be getting wet again, sometime soon. I have never before been concerned that surfing will not be an option. I have always just figured I would surf till the day I die.
 October 2019 we were still basking in the glory of a once in a lifetime trip to the Ments. 10 Kneelos on a boat sailing around the Mentawai’s. Absolutely what dreams are made of. Red, Giggs, Lester, Larry, Craig, Steve, Johan, Andrew and myself. Jason the skipper of Switchfoot made it 10 chargers in total.
We had also had a run of solid swell at the local, which for me was all time as my new Kneeon that Nick had shaped for me had arrived. Nick and I had chatted over the phone, had a few video calls and bam!! this magic carpet arrives. Oh my sack, I have never been happier with a stick. My surfing went up in leaps and bounds. Never been happier in my life.
 Around this time, I started to get pains in my left hip which radiated down the leg. Initially it wasn’t too bad but it got progressively worse. It got to a stage where I literally couldn’t walk anymore. Thinking it’s got to be the hip, off I went to the hip specialist. Had some photos taken of the hip, back to the clever guy’s office and this is where things started to go south.
Mate, as hips go, yours look beautiful but I recommend you go see a neurosurgeon.
Your spine doesn’t look good at all.
You can imagine, I’m thinking “what the fuck, are you sure you’re looking at the right X-rays.”
So, at least by this time I was on crutches to help me get around and waddled off to see Dave. Dave is a neurosurgeon that had done some work on my spine before.
Same sort of story, pain in my shoulder, radiating down my right arm.
True as nuts, I had gone to the shoulder clever guy who had told me exactly what the hip guy had just told me. Anyway, a long story short, Dave did a decompression on the C7 and T1 vertebrae.
I was booked on a boat trip to the Maldives with my good mate Guy. He is a stand up but I love him anyway. I manage to get on the plane without really having tested the neck or having had time for rehab of any sorts. Probably not my brightest move. We had solid swell the whole trip, but truth be told, I was in constant pain.
Once back in SA, I was off to see Dave again. X-rays and CT scans followed, and Dave said unfortunately we going to have to fuse the C7 and T1 but we will go in through the front this time.
Absolutely no problems whatsoever and I was back in the water 3 months later.
Dave, howzit I’m back. More scans and X-rays (starting to know everyone by their first names by now) followed. Yip, pretty much the same story, crumbling, degeneration of the spine.
I was booked in for a decompression on the L4 and L5. The procedure was pretty standard and uneventful. Unfortunately, just as with the neck, the decompression was not successful. A week later, I was booked in for a multistage fusion, L4, L5 and S1.
So, they going to open me up again along the same incision line, not feeling great about that but hey, there are worse things in life. Waking up from this op was a rude awakening. Fuck me this shit hurts. Trying to move was pretty tender for sure. Anyhow the drugs did their thing and a few days later I was able to get out of bed and lose the dreaded catheter. Walking was fair interesting to say the least, I had to laugh at myself as I looked like a mummy.
Little shuffles with my hands out front but hey, I was mobile. The day they let me out rolled around. Crap balls I felt like shit and was fair tender. It felt like someone was taking a mallet to my head.
I remember battling to get into the wheelchair to get me to the car. The nausea was just incredible, I thought I was going to throw up all over the place. Between the porter and Jo (my wife) they managed to get me into the car.
The ride home is not too far but I was deteriorating at a rapid rate of knots. Got home, Jo managed to get me onto her “throne” where I just passed out.
Through the rest of the day and night I remember fleeting moments of being awake. Couldn’t move, didn’t know what was going on. Basically, a vegetable on the couch.
The next morning Jo realized that this wasn’t good. Somehow or other she managed to bundle me into the car. I have a memory of the gardener holding the car door open with a look of concern on his face. The next thing I was on a gurney at the hospital with Debbie staring at me. Debbie is Jo’s business partner and one of my best friends.
Tests and more tests.
Somehow or other I had picked up Bacterial Meningitis.
Jo had literally just saved my life. A few hours later and it wouldn’t have turned out well.
Some serious antibiotics and medication I can’t even pronounce later, my infection levels started coming down, but the headaches wouldn’t go away. Back into the noisy tube for some more scans. Was good to see all the guys and gals in radiology again.
Crap balls I had a rupture in the thecal sac. Basically, it’s a sac that runs up your spine and over the brain. The sac contains cerebrospinal fluid. When leaking the sac “collapses” on the brain causing insane headaches, headaches that are just next level. Think migraine on steroids.
Back into theatre to patch up the leak.
Once again, they opened me up on the same incision. Success at last, once again freedom day arrived and was bundled into the wheelchair again and back into the car.
Was great to be home with the animals for sure. Jo had made a bed for me in the lounge as walking at this point just really wasn’t an option. To say I was tender would be a bit of an understatement.
A day later, I got this incredible pain down my left leg. Kinda like being hit with a cattle prodder. I remember screaming as the first one hit. Absolute agony, pain like I had never felt. It would last for about 30 seconds but in that time, I couldn’t move a finger for fear of escalating the pain. I just screamed and screamed. Over the next two days, it got worse and more frequent.
This was an incredible low point. I remember crying like a baby. I was emotionally drained by this time. I remember thinking I just want to be normal again. Remember, I can hardly walk, can’t even get down on the toilet to take a dump. I hadn’t had a shit for as long as I can remember.
My wife was washing me and dressing me. It was taking its toll.
This carried on for two days until it got to a point where I just couldn’t move.
An ambulance and crew had to come and peel me off the couch eventually. They dosed me up, got a stretcher underneath me and carried me out to the ambulance.
Jesus, what the fuck!! But hey, could be worse…right?
Back to my favorite people with the noisy machine. Hi everyone, true as nuts I’m back. Another scan revealed that the crushed bone material that they place between your vertebrae was leaking out and catching the nerve going down my leg.
Another twirl in theatre to clean up the debris, by this time the clock on the wall and I were good friends. I used to watch the seconds tick by as the anesthetic started kicking in. I woke up from here being wheeled into high care. Now I have to tell you this was by far my worst experience.
The following morning two nurses came to wash me. I was in absolute agony and they kept moving me and turning me. I was screaming in absolute agony, but they wouldn’t stop and no-one came to help me. To this day I can’t understand it.
Couldn’t wait to get out of there and back on to a ward. Or so I thought…
From there they wheeled me into an isolation ward. Apparently, I had picked up the dreaded hospital Super bug. My infection count was in the 400’s (8 being normal) and to make matters worse, the headaches were back. I had sprung another fucking leak in my Thecal sack. FUCK!!!
Back to my old friend on the wall with the ticking second hand. Again, opening me up on the same line. This time I wasn’t friends with the clock on the wall.
Dave patched me up as best they could.
What the actual…
My new home turned out to be a glass box in the ICU. In isolation in intensive care. Jesus, this isn’t good.
Nurse and doctors were putting gear on to come into the glass box. “What’s going on???”
Machines were everywhere beeping and hissing. “Fuck me, this isn’t good.”
Waking up at 4am with people sticking needles into you to draw blood loses its shine after a while. I think all I ate for the two weeks was watermelon in the morning that Debbie used to bring me with a cup of coffee. When I say bring, I really mean bribe the porter.
 Now you must remember I have basically been bedridden for 6 weeks and not had an appetite at all.
I could see the concern on peoples face when they came to visit, as much as they tried to hide it, it was there.
Nights were the worst and the tears used to flow. So as not to let the pressure in the Thecal sac become too great, they drained it every few hours. This as I’ve said to you before brings on insane headaches.
Morphine and I were no longer friends. It made me incredibly sad and depressed.
I came off the morphine by choice and gritted the teeth. Absolutely worth the pain.
 Lester and Marco organized a live feed for me for the warmup session before the SA Kneeboarding Champs. What legends.
Once again, I cried like a baby, but these were tears of joy. It was so good to watch my mates surfing and everyone saying “hi” on the feed made me feel like a million bucks. The brotherhood is strong here in Cape Town. Love these boys.
 At this point I was literally skin and bone, but my infection levels were coming down and I had managed to get out of bed and make the few steps to the toilet. The sun was definitely coming up for me. For the first time in a long time, I thought I was going to make it.
Fuck, the thought of dying in that glass box haunted me every night there.
Freedom day was like no other. Getting out of there into the sunshine and colors and breeze was a sensory overload, but hey, I was out and feeling good…ish.
 My mates, Debbie and Sian had kept me going. Sian is my office manager and best friend.
She tried to feed me all the way through to no avail, true as nuts she used to arrive with bags of food.
 God it was good to be home.
Reality starts to kick in pretty quickly. Fuck me am I ever going to be able to surf again, am I ever going to be able to sit on the toilet again (it’s the little things hahaha…)
Time to reset the mind from “fuck me, I don’t want to die in here to I need to get in the water again”.
 Enter the amazing Lara, the physio that is a gift from the angels. I remember that late December day shuffling and shaking my way into her office. By this time, all my muscles had wasted away and just holding my frame up was as much as I could muster. I could do about 2 minutes before all my muscles started shaking from fatigue and I was still shuffling like a mummy.
The question Lara asked me off the bat was “what do you want to get out of this.”
“Just get me back in the water please,” was my response.
At this point it was a fantasy I had to believe in, physically I was a mess, but I think mentally I was scarred and the mental trauma was real. But fuck it, if I could survive that, I can achieve anything. The will to get back in the water was incredible and became all consuming.
 Walking around the house became my exercise routine initially and braai tongs my best friend (in case I dropped stuff as bending was not an option). I had to hold on to everything at first as I walked along, eventually I could skip the kitchen counter on the way to the TV room and skip the chairs on the way to my room, and so it went on until I could just about walk the whole house without holding or resting.
 Lara had given me gentle low impact stuff to do, just to tone the muscles and stretches to get some life back in the buggers. Everything hurt. This was a continuous process that I did all day every day for a few weeks. I was starting to feel more stable on my feet which did wonders for my mental wellbeing. Progress was gradual but I started noticing results which made me feel like a million dollars.
 Getting behind the wheel again was a massive boost for me. My buddy Kante who is a running coach, walked with me from my local to St James, what a joy being next to the ocean again, mind surfing every bump that came through. I steadily built this up over time. Eventually I could make it to Muizenberg and back (5 kms). Everything ached at this point and the thought of shortening every walk was ever present. 4am wake ups every day can be a challenge and for sure there were mornings I couldn’t bear the thought of getting up. Sore back, sore hips, it’s dark and it’s cold, fuck this shit. On the odd occasion that I didn’t manage to get going, that feeling of worthlessness would set in. What the fuck is wrong with you, don’t you want to get back in the water? That’s not a cool feeling. I have probably missed 3 days in the six months I have been rehabbing. A 45-minute 5km walk followed by an hour of rehab back at home. I can’t begin to count the many lonely hours I have spent in the dark, walking and processing thoughts and priorities.
 My weekly visits to Lara are always a highlight. My flexibility is measured as well as my strength. Some weeks just like some days are better than others. Lately there are a few moments of some days that I am totally pain free. These can quickly be followed by days and moments of crappy pain, but I will take the good ones for sure. Setbacks some and it’s natural to be bummed by them. Thinking “end goal” always helps. Watching Billy Kemper’s story after that crazy injury in Morocco has inspired me tremendously and there is a kinship that forms in adversity.
To keep the spirits up, I have ordered me a new board from Nick (Kneeon) which should arrive any day.
Jedd has also shaped me a 5’4 twinny that looks more like something that should be flying in space rather than the water. Can’t wait to get these beauties wet.
 The daily grind continues relentlessly and it’s not always easy to appreciate the reasons for the dark hours one spends with oneself on the rehab trail. I want the prize now. Sheesh, it’s a constant battle upstairs. Here’s the weird thing, the closer I get to the end of April (paddle out day…hopefully), the more fearful I become. Will I be able to, and can I still?
All this and more just keeps swimming in the head and there’s the self-doubt.
Fuck it’s terrifying.
I have gone over it a million times in my head, do I just paddle out at a gentle beach break and see how it goes. Na, that scares me more. Soft waves are hard work and the amount of torque on the spine terrifies me. What if the nuts and bolts pop out?
There is no way in hell I am going back to that building with the big red cross on it. This drives me harder for sure back on the road, back to the floor and core exercises.
Lara assures me the hyperextension of the back I have obtained through this time will definitely be fine for paddling.
The torque and pressure on the lower back coming off the bottom and turning off the top, is what scares the crap out of me. The reef and I are intimate, god knows I have bounced and scraped along her so many times. I have certainly paid my dues.  
Wiping out doesn’t scare me, it’s that word again “TORQUE”.
Perhaps I will just go straight on the first few. That in itself presents a bit of a problem at the local, but that’s where my head is.
I know you will all understand this, “what if a section just presents itself, just asking to be slapped”.
It is so ingrained in each and every one of us, that muscle memory just takes over. Going to have to be ever vigilant.
I have swum out to the peak just to be out there with the guys. The first time was not great. It took me so long just to get to the water. Jumping off the railway line so not an option. Doing the walk around and trying to get over the rocks was tricky to say the least.
Feeling the water over my feet was an absolute delight, but crap balls, had the water got colder since the last time? As soon as I laid in the water, it dawned on me that this is going to be quite the journey.
I couldn’t swim on my stomach as the pain was intense, but fuck it, I was going out. I swam on my side and back. Eventually I made it, the guys cheered and whooped, I felt like I had just won the lottery.
It was so good to be part of the conversation out there again, it was so good to hear how stoked the guys were for me, life was good.
I fed off this like I had been starved of life for ages.
 Today being the Saturday before the Wednesday that I go back to Dave (the surgeon), brings turmoil to my emotions.
I’m not sure what I am scared of more, being told you aren’t ready or yeah, go get in the water. I am so scared of not surfing to my full potential again. Every day closer brings more panic. I just want it to be over now.
 Wednesday morning dawned (but not really), up at 4am and back on the road. Usually, I am thinking about the workday ahead but this morning not so much.
My head is swimming with what ifs. What if there is still something wrong, what if I can’t anymore, what if, what if…
On the drive to see Dave, the surgeon, my heart is beating at a million beats/minute.
It’s good to see Dave again in a weird type of way, he really is a very cool guy.
Anyhow, he sends me off for some more pictures of the spine. Gotta say I was staring at the radiologist for some clues, but nothing.
The stress is killing me, and I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest.
So, back up to Dave with the thumping heart, I can hear it in my ears.
It all looks brilliant mate. What… I could not believe what I was hearing. He took me through the X-rays explaining what he was looking for and everything was just right.
There’s no use putting off the inevitable he says to me, go get in the water…but don’t be stupid. I wanted to scream it to the world!
Obviously, the doubts started kicking in hard right about now, but hey, I had gotten the green light.
Thursday morning I was off to Lara for physio. I couldn’t wait to tell her the good news. The muscles on the left side of my back had been in spasm for two weeks now, so as thrilled as she was, there was the don’t be stupid again.
I had coached myself in my mind for months now, high tide, small waves and just go straight…right.
 Friday morning and the reports started coming in. There’s a bit of a wave at the local.
“It’s go time.” With my heart in my mouth, I started packing the car.
Sweet Lord, it had been a while, I had to keep double checking I had everything packed.
I don’t think I noticed any other cars on the way, I was mind surfing all the way through to the local.
I got there a few hours before the high just to get my head straight and check the lineup.
There were some chunky 4 footers coming through, but I wanted some more water on the rock. I watched my mate Dave paddle out and get some screamers.
Steve finally arrived, “I thought you would be in your suit already” he says.
This is it, heart in the throat again, off we went.
Sheesh it was so good to feel the waves crashing over my feet and legs again.
Jumped on my board and started paddling.
Woooohoooo absolutely no pain. Got out to the takeoff zone and everyone was cheering and welcoming me back. How humbling.
Mickey Duffus, a local big wave legend was out. Everybody back off he bellowed, this man hasn’t surfed for 6 months.
For some reason, this made me relax and just enjoy the moment.
Something started standing up out the back, Steve was sitting in the channel waiting for me to have my first ride.
“You going Mick?” I heard someone ask.
Yip I heard coming out my mouth, I spun and went.
Muscle memory and familiarity with the wave kicked in. I made the drop…Fuck I couldn’t believe it came around the section and just flopped off my board.
Steve and Dave had the biggest smile on their faces. The emotion of the occasion just swept over me like a wave, and the tears started flowing. All I kept thinking about was lying in ICU thinking fuck, I don’t want to die in here to taking off on the first wave.
Well, for the rest of the session, I absolutely sent it, trying to take off as deep as possible on the gnarliest set waves. All the coaching I had done in my head for the last few months went straight out the window.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
 Damn, I felt so alive, without a doubt, the happiest man on the planet. When I got back to the car park, all of the Kneelo crew were in the car park and boy were they happy for me.
Sean Thompson was there too, shooting my waves and recording the moment.
How blessed am I. Nothing was getting the smile off my face.
 When I lay in bed that night, I kept thinking of the months of rehab and hard work I had gone through. The many lonely dark hours of the mornings, but I had done it.
 The next morning, we were on it at first light with the Westside boys coming through as well. The Kneelo brotherhood in Cape Town is tight. I am so humbled by all the good wishes and thoughts from everyone.
Just want to mention Lester, who kept me sane in the last two months. We chatted every day for the last while, sometimes a few times in a day. He kept me motivated and hungry and for this I will be forever grateful.
There are so many people to thank for getting me through this period. I think you know who you are, and I will get to everyone individually.
It’s good to get wet again.
I started writing this piece to help anyone in similar circumstances.
Stick with your plan and give it everything no matter how hopeless your situation may seem.
At the end of the day this was such a therapeutic exercise for me. Something I didn’t expect.
The trauma was and is real and this has certainly helped me face it and deal with it.
If this helps even one person get over and through a rough period of hopelessness, its job done.
Mickey Kirsten
Legless Contributor
SA Kneelos
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Survey #315
“can’t breathe to scream  /  suffocating in this dream  /  long way down”
Who was your first big crush? I would probably say this guy in high school named Sebastian. We sat beside each other in Art, and I definitely liked him a lot. Man, my freshman-sophomore years honestly involved a handful of crushes before Jason popped into the picture and I lost all romantic interest in everyone else. Where was the first place you drove after you got your license? N/A Is it a blue sky outside right now? No. All North Carolina has known for weeks on end now is rain. We've had very rare sunny days, but for the most part, it's just gray and gross. Was your last breakup a bad one? Nah, I'd say it ended maturely and with a mutual understanding of "why." When was the last time you were surprised, in a pleasant way? Hell if I know. Is there an ice-cream flavor that you strongly dislike? Which one? Yeah, like strawberry. What was the last sitcom you watched? No clue. ^ Do you have a favorite character in that sitcom? Why is that character your favorite? N/A What does the last group you joined on Facebook concern? I am 90% sure it was this group I joined that is literally just about cute yet dangerous animals lmao, mostly reptiles and invertebrates. "Misunderstood biteybois and where to befriemd them" or some stupid shit like that. Has there been a spider in your house at any time recently? Not that I've seen, no. Do you like wearing make-up? Not at all. I only like wearing it for pictures and then taking that shit off. ^ If so, how old were you when you first started to wear it? I started consistently wearing it my freshman year of high school. Then some time later I just showed up one day without any, shocked all my friends, and then only wore it when I felt like it. What foods are you craving lately, if any? Nothing, really. What were some of your favorite foods as a child? Chicken nuggets of course, as well as spaghetti, peanut butter sandwiches, just the typical stuff that kids tend to enjoy. When you were younger, did you ever have a friend that your parents hated? No. Have you ever talked in your sleep before? That's very normal for me, especially now that I have nightmares like every goddamn night. What was the last song you heard, that reminded you of someone? Well, not a real someone, but "The Ordinary World" by the Hit House is 110% one of Fetch's soon-to-be themes. What has brought you joy today? Nothing brought me "joy," really. When was the last time you won a prize in a raffle? What was it? I actually recently won an art rafle on deviantART hosted by a truly amazing artist, like I thought I had no chance, and she's going to be drawing Moondust!!!! :'''') What is the next non-essential item that you intend to buy for yourself? I'm still paying the bulk of my tattoo in May. Is there anywhere in your town/city that's rumored to be haunted? Oh, I'm sure. When you were younger, did you ever think that a certain place was haunted? Bitch I still do lmao. What were your school meals like? Did you enjoy them? This really depended on the menu for the day. My school lunches were nowhere near as bad as some people make theirs sound, but most things still weren't great. I think school pizzas are the most notoriously bad. What kind of granola bar did you eat most recently? I had a cashew bar earlier today. Do you have any books on your shelf that you've read multiple times? I never reread books. What did your last post on social media concern? That I personally wrote, something regarding subtle racism still being racism, pretty much. How do you feel about people using graphic images as a scare tactic to promote their beliefs? (i.e.: PETA, abortion…) I have mixed feelings on this. Like sometimes seeing the brutal side of certain things is definitely useful in opening someone's mind to things they don't want to see/think about, but then there's that, too: it can just be so invasive and unexpected, and thus very upsetting and even scarring. I'd say I'm most for the "appropriate" social media route: using censorship that the viewer can decide whether or not to remove. But you obviously can't do that in like, a public protest with a sign, so idk. Which is harder for you: writing creatively or academically? Honestly, both are pretty easy for me. I enjoy writing creatively far more, though. Do you think gender neutral bathrooms are a good idea? I think it's fine to have them as an option. When was the last time you voluntarily went outside of your comfort zone? Just talking about stuff in group therapy recently. Would you ever use a dating site that costs money, like Match.com or eHarmony? Have you known anyone who had good experience with such sites? No, and yes. Do you think it’s fair that people are able to make a reasonable salary and live comfortable lives just by making YouTube videos? Yes? It takes charisma and talent in some area (humor, education, etc.) as well as consistency for it to be a reliable career, and just consider how often you hear about creators burning out. That happens for a reason. Entertainment is a valid job category and should not be seen as an unfair joke. Whether you’re in college or not, do you become fearful about whether or not you’ll find a good job? Story of my life. What is something you can only understand if you've experienced it first hand? Deep heartbreak. Do you think it's a double standard that a woman can hit a man and expect to get away with it, but if a man hits a woman it's assault? Obviously. Abuse knows no gender, and hitting another person is just that. I do, however, believe in self-defense, also regardless of gender. In terms of a wedding, put these things in order from what would be MOST important to be perfect, to LEAST important... Engagement ring, dress, hair, venue, ceremony, food, pictures, decorations, honeymoon. This requires too much thinking, haha... but I do know the quality of my honeymoon would be most important to me, given that that's personal time with my new spouse and not a public celebration. I feel like what goes on behind closed doors is more important and heartfelt than how you act publicly. Do you have a go-to small talk conversation topic? Probably video games or music, idk. Define "small talk." Does anyone owe you money? Do you owe anyone money? (Besides credit cards) Mom does. She just a few days ago had to borrow $100 for rent. If someone was going to buy you any practical gift (anything except a house or car), what would you choose? It'd be dope as fuck if someone could pay for Venus' next terrarium, but that's a big purchase that I'd have a hard time accepting. How many people do you know with the same first name as you? At least one, but her name is spelled differently. What in your opinion is the best love song ever written? I'm not sure, but I can tell you that "When It's Love" by Van Halen has always been high on the list for me. Was your mother married when she had you? No, actually. I thought she was until my most recent bday, I think. It was just part of a conversation. How old was the first person you kissed? He was a few months into 18. The first person you were in a relationship with, do you still care about them? Of course, he's a sweet guy. We don't talk or anything, but that doesn't mean I don't care about him. Has anyone ever sang to you? Yes. So, what if you married the last person you kissed? That'd be pretty rad. What are you listening to at the moment? "Long Way Down" from the The Evil Within soundtrack. It's funny, like I've loved the game for many years, but I'm now in a serious semi-obsession phase after watching another let's play of it. Have you read the The Hunger Games trilogy? I only read the first book. I loved it, but just never continued. What is your boss’ (or school prinicpal’s) name? N/A Who is the person you dislike the most? That I personally know, probably a former best friend, oddly enough. Do you text your parents often? If Mom's not home, it's not unusual for us to text. I don't text my dad much because he's not a fan of texting. Do you watch YouTube videos often? Pretty much always. Do you know anyone with celiac disease? Sara, my aunt, and my cousin. Those are the ones I know of, anyway. Do you currently have any alarms set? No. How many cars can fit in your driveway? Barely even two. If someone else is here, they usually just park where the road meets the sidewalk of the cul-de-sac. Do you have the ashes of a family member or a pet? Of my dog Teddy, yes. Have you ever been involved in a car crash? Yes, as a kid. Do you prefer flash or no flash on a camera? Definitely no flash. It's more natural, and especially with people, it obviously prevents red eye. How often do you use hashtags? Just about never. Have you ever had whiplash before? No. Have you ever given another person or an animal a bath before? Pets, yes. I could never bathe another human. Is there a birdbath in your yard? No. Weirdest place you’ve ever had a cramp? Nowhere weird, I think... How many lamps are in the room you’re in? How many are actually turned on? Technically three, if you count my snake's heat lamp. Right now that's the only light that's on. Are there any activities you enjoy doing, but can only do for a short amount of time before you get bored or tired of them? Yeah, reading comes to mind first. Is there anything coming out soon (books, albums, movies, video games) that you're looking forward to? I'm not up-to-date on this stuff at all, not even video games. What is something someone recommended to you that you disliked/hated? I know Girt's recommended me music I haven't been a fan of. We like the same general stuff, but there are specific sub-genres we differ in opinion about. Can you unwrap a Starburst in your mouth? ... There are people who do this to even know in the first place??? What is the last thing you ate? Popcorn. Who is your favorite person to spend time with? Sara. Do you know how to grill a steak? I don't know how to cook, period. Do you have a large dog? We don't have a dog currently, but Mom is looking for one pretty intently. We don't know the size it'll end up being. Do you like walking places? Absolutely not. I can't walk far at all without my legs starting to scream at me because leading such a sedentary lifestyle led to muscle atrophy in my legs. It's incredibly embarrassing. Are you a fan of bands most people don’t know of? That's not uncommon for me. Have you ever sent an X-Rated picture to someone? No. Do you think your voice is higher or lower than average? It's deeper than the average woman's. Do you have a pool? No, but I really, really want one... Given how easily I sweat, I would love to use swimming to strengthen my legs. I could also stop the very moment I feel I need to; it in general sounds like something I could quite easily do. How many times have you been on a plane? Ummm including the trips going back, at least six times. Favorite ice cream flavor? Oh my gooooood, if you haven't tried Ben & Jerry's "phish food"... fucking try that shit. It is innnnnncredible. Do you have a TikTok? Nope. Do you enjoy driving? Fuck no I don't. Your favorite store as a teen? Hot Topic was and still is my fave, ha. Favorite YouTuber? There's this one called Markiplier that I think's pretty cool. How many online accounts do you have? A LOT. My whole life is essentially on the computer, so... .-. Do you tend to always be in some sort of drama? Quite the opposite. Do you collect quarters from every state? No. When was the last time your living room furniture was rearranged? Not since we moved into this place. When you were little did you like watching Cartoon Network, Disney or Nickelodeon more? Disney probably topped Nickelodeon. I didn't watch much CN. Who was the last person to kiss you on the cheek? Either my niece or nephew when saying bye. Have you ever seen a magic show? Yes, as a kid. I even had a magician for my bday once. When was the last time you vomited and why? It's been a year or so. It would've been a side effect of starting a certain med that I didn't stay on because it so consistently made me sick. Where do you usually sit when you eat dinner? Either in my bed (I know) or at the dinner table if Nicole is here to eat with us. What time do you usually go to sleep at night? It's typically around 7:30-8:30, occasionally a bit later. I can't believe as a teen, it was my "rule" that I couldn't go to sleep before 10:30 because it was "too early." Nowadays, I can barely imagine regularly staying up that late. Do you avoid using public restrooms? As best as I can. I've seen some nasty shit. What’s your favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chip. How basic.
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aconitemare · 5 years
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[jaydick - flash fic: Valentine Crime] Pink Lovers
AO3
Summary: “I love you,” Dick whispers against their mouths. Then his head pulls back and slams into Jason’s. 
A Valentine's Fay Festival hands out a batch of the Joker's version of candy hearts: drugs that cause lovers to become violently obsessed with each other. Jason has better things to do than pop candy on Hallmark holidays, but Ordinary Guy Ric Grayson clearly does not. 
“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love — augh!” The man’s saccharine chant is cut short by a gun cracking against his skull. His body goes limp and Jason catches him before he can hit the asphalt of Park Row Hospital’s employee parking lot. Across from them, an older woman in a lab coat presses herself against a Honda. Her blonde hair escapes in wisps from her toppling bun, glasses askew on her thin nose.
           Jason looks at her through his helmet. “This your boy?” he asks. She shakes her head in a negative reply although her eyes remain transfixed on her assailant. She looks like a rabbit about to hightail it out of the meadow.
           Jason adjusts the man in his arms, the attackers’ balding head lolling backwards. Jason peels the man’s eyelids back. They’re exactly what he expects: scleras an unnatural pink, a shade reminiscent of Pepto-Bismol. Red veins web outwards, spindly and swollen. In the center are the pupils blown wide enough to swallow the iris, inky black and forming a nebulous heart as if someone had painted it in with watercolor.
           “He’s just a work friend,” the doctor explains.
           Jason releases the eyelid. “I don’t think he got the memo,” he informs as he gets to work on binding the man’s wrists and ankles.
           “He’s not like this. I’ve known him for years, he’s — ”
           “Do me a favor, doc.” Jason hefts the man over his shoulders. “Go straight home. Unless you live with your partner, then check into a hotel and don’t talk to anyone who’s not family. No responding to texts, no Snapchatting, just stay inside until the news says it’s safe to be a person again.”
           The doctor nods slowly, expression numb with shock. “There was something about this on Channel 4, wasn’t there? I caught some of it, but I’ve been so busy — I wasn’t really… ” she trails off.
           Jason sighs; he’s had this conversation several times today. “Latest Joker hijinks.” He runs her through the spiel: a little over an hour ago, candy hearts were handed out at the Valentine’s Day Festival occurring uptown. Everyone who had some soon became violently obsessed with their beaus. At a festival targeting couples, most of the infected didn’t stray very far before getting apprehended on-sight. Trouble is, not everyone was with the one they love and those lonely hearts are left to seemingly attack at random.
Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve. Or some just can’t see the obvious.
“I don’t think I’m that popular to get another attack,” says the doctor with a breathy, frazzled laugh. Jason merely shrugs.
“Don’t sell yourself short.” He leans towards her. “Seriously. Don’t risk it. It was a big festival; who knows who was there,” he adds more lightly. He leaves her to get in her car and do whatever she’s going to do. His own car is hastily parked from when he spotted the two earlier. He drops the man and pops the trunk to the sight of one of the pink-eyed crazies woken up and squirming around. Jason prepares some anesthesia and injects the needle into the throbbing vein of pinkie’s throat. Then he repeats the process with the new guy to be safe and dumps him in the trunk.
Robin’s voice filters through the com. “I’ve taken down four pink-lovers thus far,” he brags.
Jason snorts. Over the com, he says, “I’ve bagged five.”
“No, you haven’t,” Robin scoffs.
“More the merrier, boys,” Oracle interrupts, buried laughter deepening her voice. “We appreciate your help, Hood,” she says like a kindergarten teacher rewarding the bad kid for class participation.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s my city, too. And you’re down a dick,” he justifies. The bats all keep tabs on “Ric” the best they can, which admittedly hasn’t been difficult considering Ric’s life is remarkably routine for a vagrant. Jason pays him a visit every now and then. It’s plain Dick is regaining memories; nowhere near as many as the bats would like, but any amount has Ric tensing up suddenly during their (infrequent, sometimes fun, often frigid) conversations and running off.
“How’s that antidote coming?” Jason asks. He should probably get going; the goal is to deliver the pink-lovers to the batcave for treatment, picking up any strays along the way. It’s boring as shit. The infected are rabid but ultimately still ordinary people easily taken out. It feels more like a weirdly festive scavenger hunt than an actual mission.
“Finished, but questionable,” Oracle answers. “Joker basically built upon an earlier bioweapon of his maniacal invention, so we’re hardly fumbling in the dark here but… without a rational human test subject, we can’t in good conscience administer the serum to the pink-lovers we have — ”
“Strapped and ready?” says Jason. He removes his helmet and the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, considers smoking one just to delay inevitably being in the same room as Batman, and then shoves the pack back in his jacket. He gets behind the wheel instead, leaving his helmet on the passenger seat. “Just pop one of the candy hearts and then test the antidote on yourself.” The engine purrs with the press of a button.
Oracle’s response is not immediate. When it does come it sounds reluctant and somewhat distracted. “That’s what we may end up having to do, yeah. Everyone’s on reconnaissance at the moment, but I guess whoever drops off the next batch of pink-lovers wins a special candy heart.”            Jason drives down the road slower than his foot itches to go. He needs to keep an eye any signs of dispute from festival stragglers. “You’re not volunteering, I take it?” he says idly.
Oracle laughs over the com. It’s sharp, almost painful, in his earpiece. “I’m way too important to risk, Hood, you know that,” she quips. “More to the point, I’m not in love. At least, that’s my guess as to why I didn’t go all cray-cray when I did pop a candy heart. I then suggested Batman take one — he just tensed up and ran off into the night. Well, early afternoon.”
Movement from a third-story apartment window catches his eye. “Way to take one for the team,” he murmurs, slowing down and craning his neck.
Batman, as it turns out, is not one to let his good name be sullied because he growls over the com, “If the toxin does have an effect on me and the antidote does not work, that leaves fewer eyes on the streets which, if you have not noticed, are littered with intoxicated citizens cognitively closer to homing pigeons than human beings.”
“It’s true,” Robin vouches. “I just witnessed one get hit by a car because their partner was across the street.”
“Robin.”
“She’s fine. I escorted her to the nearest hospital and told them to get the straps until we have distributed the antidote,” he defends primly. Meanwhile, Jason tries to parse out the body language of the exposed couple. One’s arms extend; another’s push them away. Playful or hostile? Playful or hostile? Jason muses.
Now Red Robin chimes in, in his usual world-weary tone, “These pink-lovers are more dangerous to themselves than to their targets. They’re out of it — like, totally vacant. The Joker stayed on-brand for this one.”
Jason dismisses the movement as innocent as the couple embraces. His eyes return to the road in time to see a man standing there dumbly. Jason has his foot on the brake too late and his heart lurches into his throat, his stomach following suit. Then the man leaps onto the hood of Jason’s car. The wheels stop abruptly and the man must overcompensate for the force, because instead of being thrown off, his head bashes against the windshield.
This all happens within — a second, two? — three at most. The next second, a car blares its horn angrily before briefly swerving into the other lane to pass him. Jason registers this only distantly. He’s focused on the familiar face of the man clutching his forehead, eyes Pepto-pink and staring into Jason’s. Blood escapes the press of his fingers, collecting at the dip of his broken nose before trailing onto his cheeks.
Jason pulls over; a task that is mildly complicated by the asshole sticking to his windshield like a bug. He practically kicks the door open. His concern, that sick twist of worry in his gut, is feeding into his agitation. As if gathering kindling, Jason’s mind runs through how this happened. The idiot clearly was at the Valentine’s Day Festival. Of course he was; he’s not Nightwing with a checkered love life or a full plate of crises to resolve. He’s just Ric, an ordinary guy with an ordinary job and an ordinary girlfriend to attend silly festivals with. Happily living out his new life as a passive civilian: a victim waiting to happen.
Jason is barely out of the car when Dick jumps him. His hands fist into Jason’s collar, trying to shove him back in the car with brute strength. It’s considerable strength, too, considering the months of disuse as a cabbie. But beyond that strength, Dick doesn’t attempt to maneuver him and Jason’s knees don’t buckle. “Get off,” he grunts, seizing Dick’s arms.
“But I love you.”
The phrase hits him like a blow to the chest. Jason looks at Dick, really looks at him. There’s an ugly bleeding gash across his forehead above his angular eyebrows — one now sporting a fashionable slit — and his black hair is growing back fuzzy. Last week Dick’s fingers clasped Jason’s wrist as he laughingly guided Jason to pet the top of his soft head. Today Dick grins joylessly at him, any trace of his baby blues wiped out by the Joker. Jason’s heart sinks with the weighty meaninglessness of Dick’s confession.
He doesn’t want to look at Dick’s face anymore and forces him to face the other direction. “Jason,” Dick says. His name sounds so clear, so conscious on Dick’s tongue. It doesn’t sound like the Joker. But then Dick repeats, “I love you.”
Anger strikes Jason whip-fast. I love you is sacrilege coming from this body that belongs more to the Joker — more to Ric — than the man who should’ve said it. Maybe Dick would even have had reason to say it from the scraps of their lives he and Jason managed to share together, between all the hatred and the death, the lies and disappearances and new identities. Jason still isn’t sure if that’s what he’s been wanting from Dick, some verbal confirmation of a felt truth, but it’s irrelevant now. Another thing the Joker has taken from them.
Jason swings Dick around harder than necessary and pins him against the car. He knows it’s a waste of time but still stares into that manic pink, searching desperately for something. He wants some remnant of Dick Grayson to peer at him through those unnatural pupils, make itself known through a sliver of sky-blue iris or a flicker of intelligence. Inky hearts watch him back.
Jason is caught off guard by the legs that wind around his waist. Dick’s ankles cross together and bring Jason closer. Their heartbeats travel from one chest to the other. Jason just stands there, dumb, between Dick’s thighs until he can actually feel Dick’s heartbeat adjust to his.
Dick rests his forehead against Jason’s. Jason stops breathing. Dick’s lips touch his but don’t press in. “I love you,” Dick whispers against their mouths. Then his head pulls back and slams into Jason’s. Pain reverberates through his skull in a hot pulsing motion. He releases Dick automatically, but Dick merely stumbles forward in his own pain. Jason catches him only to violently throw him to the ground and rush to the car.
Jason retrieves a shot from his anesthetics kit while Dick clatters to the asphalt like a finished wind-up toy. Jason pops the trunk as Dick rises again and tries to wrench Jason bodily the ground. He resists Dick well enough, but does briefly lose his footing. Dick knocks the needle from his hand. “I love you,” Dick chants. “I love you. I love you. I lov — ”
Jason barrels towards him. “Shut up!” he shouts. He topples Dick over. The two grapple on the cement, Jason twisting Dick’s arm. Dick cries out but otherwise remains focused on getting the upper-hand. Dick attempts to gouge his eyeball out. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jason seethes, catching Dick’s wrist and snapping it in a flash of fury. Dick screams and Jason thinks there’s something to be said either for Gotham law enforcement or people’s reluctance to be on the streets that no one has grown curious about the Red Hood beating the shit out of some guy in broad daylight next to a trunk of unconscious bodies.
Business as usual, he guesses.
Jason quickly stands and dashes for the shot. Dick struggles to his feet with the broken wrist. He’s on Jason shortly, but his grip is weak and Jason is ready with the anesthesia. He whirls around and snatches Dick’s broken wrist. Dick curls inwards. It’s the opening Jason needs to plunge the shot into Dick’s arm. The reaction isn’t instantaneous. Nevertheless, Dick’s movements slow from wild animal to netted fish and his unnatural eyes drift shut.
Jason zipties him particularly well. He props Dick up, douses a cloth from the front seat with his water bottle, and gently dabs at the blood on his face. Jason’s anger softens to concern over how much pain Dick will be in when he wakes up. He tries not to picture him wincing awake beneath the bloody cloth as if from some ugly dream. Jason tries, first and foremost, not to want things Dick can’t give him.
The com alerts him that Batman has tested the candy heart and is under its effects. The antidote is being administered.
 Bruce’s backseat-driving whilst being restrained turns out to be the real trial. The antidote’s guesswork is spot-on and the worst side-effect is the full body rash that covers Bruce and the other pink-lovers’ skin in red splotches. The bats are still in and out the cave, but most of them stay to help recover the victims. Barbara eventually wheels over to Dick and disinfects the soft hollow of his arm. As she does, she side-eyes Jason and asks, “So, how’d you find him? Attacking his hot new bartender girlfriend?”
It’s either weariness or bitterness that tingers her sarcasm a darker shade than usual. Jason doesn’t know her or her relationship with Dick well enough to tell which. He leans against the wall and watches her fasten a tourniquet around Dick. His nose has been reset and his head bandaged. The wrist is in a temporary velcro brace.
“Something like that,” murmurs Jason.
Barbara, ever vigilant, not only notices the word choice but doesn’t let it go. “Something like that? As in he was attacking someone else. Wasn’t he?”
Jason merely shrugs. He’d be content to leave it at that except he’d rather satisfy her with useless details than encourage her with silence. “I found him on the edge of downtown. He wasn’t attacking anyone, but the name he called for wasn’t Bea.” Jason drinks from his water bottle. “That’s all I’ll say. Ric’s made it clear he doesn’t want us prying.”
Whether Barbara wholly accepts this information, he can’t decipher. She’s concentrating on the needle sinking into Dick’s vein, her long red hair obscuring half her face as she ducks her head down. She does, however, argue in half-distraction, “No one, including you, has completely respected that.”
Jason neatly deflects the accusation. “That’s to make sure the idiot doesn’t get himself killed by enemies he can’t remember. Beyond that, what’s his life is his life. Not about to snitch on him to his ex-girlfriend.”
It’s a low blow, one which Barbara responds to with an icy gaze that holds onto Jason with cold, clinging fingers. Regardless, his jab has the intended result: Barbara drops the conversation and moves onto the next pink-lover without a word further.
Jason could help out with the injections, but no one directly asks him to and he’s feeling like he’s reached his quota for bat-cooperation. Instead he pulls up a chair next to Dick and stays on his phone to avoid seeming overly invested in Dick’s progress. With time, though, and the activity whirring around him, Jason does partly forget about the man passed out beside him. At least to the extent that he’s surprised to hear Dick’s voice — rusty with sleep but always, always possessing that slight musical lilt — announce, “I’m annoyed.”
Jason glances down. Dick’s eyes are more than Jason expects, which means he’s probably been awake for a few minutes. They’re also lucid blue, the only reminders of his mania existing in the bloodshot veins.
Dick’s throat swallows dryly. “I know,” he begins thickly, “I probably don’t have to be. From the looks of this creepy dark room brimming with people also strapped to gurneys, I’d say this has a chance of genuinely being a ridiculous coincidence that I ended up here.”
Jason wants to kiss Dick’s tired eyes and tell him to sleep until all the red is gone. He doubts that would go over well. Tentatively, he inquires, “Do you remember what happened? What you did to — get here?” he finishes lamely. Hopefully it doesn’t come off as blame-finding to Dick as it does to himself.
Dick licks his lips. “Some of it. Enough to know I probably have a lot of texts from Bea that I’ll put off longer than I should.” He laughs so thinly it could be a cough if not for the wry smile.
Jason considers laughing back, just as some knee-jerk social reaction, but he doesn’t feel up to it. He turns his phone absently around in his hands. “Yeah, well, don’t put her off too long. This situation isn’t what I’d call easily salvageable.”
Dick’s gaze slides towards him. Their eyes meet. Jason wishes he could read Dick like he knows Dick can read him. “What happened, Jason?”
So Jason tells him. Dick takes it all in, processing sluggishly. Jason nearly opens his phone for something to do when Dick cracks out a “wow.” The word is dry and scratchy, prompting Jason to unscrew the cap on his water bottle and hold it to Dick’s mouth. When he takes it away, Dick continues clearer, “Not many scenarios wherein your girlfriend could be mad you didn’t kill her, huh?”
“Not many I can think of.”
They’re quiet again. Jason doesn’t open his phone this time. He waits.
“I think I meant what I said,” Dick admits. “I mean, I guess the Joker knows better than I do — ”
“Don’t.” Jason can’t listen to that. He hates that name in a way Ric will never get. But Jason can’t let the Joker be any more a part of them than he already is after the festival.
“Okay,” says Dick, bemused. “I just — I don’t know you. Not really. Sometimes I get flashes of our past together. I like them. And I like us together now, but. It’s not enough.”
Dick’s rejection seers through Jason, flays him alive. You’re not enough.
Dick mercilessly charges on. “I don’t even know if those feelings are mine or — or Dick Grayson’s. I don’t want something that’s his — ”
Jason refuses to hear more of this spiel. “You’re the same person,” he snaps.
Dick falls silent. Jason is grateful for the chaos around them that allows this bubble of privacy. He is starting to shake, raw from the anger and hurt.
“I know,” Dick says faintly. Startled, Jason accidentally looks up from his hands; Dick is staring straight at him. “I don’t want to be him. I know I am, but I don’t want to be because then I’ll wind up inheriting his life and all the mistakes from it.”
Jason smirks. It’s so damn predictable. Of course this is how Jason would be loved — with regret. “Like me,” he concludes.
“No,” Dick immediately disagrees. “I don’t remember much of us. Mostly the good things actually, but — no, I feel it. You’re not one of my mistakes, whatever you are. Whatever we were, it wasn’t a mistake.”
Jason doesn’t want to tell him the pathetic truth of how they were never anything.
“Jason,” Dick says softly. “I’d like to get to know you.” He eyes the milling bats with something akin to queasiness. “Just you,” he clarifies. “And not as a trial basis for everyone else. This isn’t some open-door policy on my life, but. But. If you can leave — ” Dick gestures his good hand, the one attached to the IV, to the cave, “ — whatever this is behind you when we hang, then this could be something. Maybe even something good,” he adds with a teasing smile.
Dick’s expression is openly hopeful. Jason’s heart aches. He wishes love didn’t feel this way all the time. Truthfully, he doesn’t know if he can compartmentalize like Dick expects. Nor is it fair for Dick to expect that from Jason who does remember, whose life isn’t a before-and-after picture but a composition piece of everything he’s been through.
Yet Jason swallows the cinderblock in his throat and says, “Yeah. I think we can do that, Ric.”
Dick’s bad hand twitches. He winces around his smile, that legendary Dick Grayson smile that wins over the toughest crowd. Even ones as tough as Jason Todd, Park Row streetrat with a penchant for fistfights and posturing. Jason snorts at the humor of it all, of his life, and reaches across Dick to lightly squeeze the fingers on his good hand.
Dick squeezes back happily. “Think you can take me home without drawing suspicion?”
“What, about us?”
Dick nods.
Jason considers the question. No one is looking at them. No one has even spared them a single glance. And as landmined as that short conversation with Barbara was, suspicion towards Jason’s dodginess regarding Dick’s love life wasn’t one of those mines. “Yeah,” Jason answers. “I think I’m pretty good about not wearing my heart on my sleeve. What about you, pretty boy?”
Dick’s grin dazzles. “The best,” he replies.
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loisinherlane · 6 years
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Title: Types of Love (Chapter 2) (AO3)
Summary: Nico lowered his eyes to his bedspread, suddenly acutely aware that he hadn’t replaced his Mythomagic comforter when he’d moved out of his dad’s house. He’d been too lazy to buy another, especially since his was still perfectly good. His soulmates usually thought it was kind of funny. His romantic partners, if they ever made it inside of Nico’s bedroom, knew Nico was a nerd and expected no less. At this moment, Nico wished he had something a little nicer. His cheeks grew red, stomach fluttering in that pleasant way only Will could give him, and for a moment, he considered the idea that Will might return his feelings.
But he should have known better. They were soulmates. Will just got up and left.//
In a world where romance means less than friendships, Nico falls in love with his platonic soulmate Will Solace and complicates his whole life.
Notes: Forgive me for any errors in this chapter. I didn't have time to edit too extensively with the posting schedule I put myself on. (Why did my dumb ass schedule an update during finals week?) Anyway, this girl is Dying, so I'll just post and disappear for a bit. Hope you guys like it anyway.
Wednesday, December 6th, 2017
Nico didn’t take Jason’s advice.
Well, he didn’t call the Chase-Jacksons. He didn’t know them. He didn’t even know if Jason had mentioned him and his dilemma. It would have been too weird, especially when this was a problem he could solve. All he had to do was get to Will, and things would be fine.
He let Will calm down for a few days more, and then he decided to swing by his apartment after work. That would be fine, he assured himself. He knew Will’s schedule like the back of his hand. He would be home then, and they could have a quick talk, and everything would go back to normal. Will would be his soulmate (nothing else, half of his brain whispered with a sharp longing for the curve of Will’s lips, his freckles, the way his calves stretched when he walked).
The motivation to keep from losing Will entirely stayed strong through the day, and by the time he parked down the street from Will’s apartment, Nico was solid in his resolve. This was what was best. He had to see him. It had to be okay.
Will, Cecil, and Lou Ellen didn’t exactly live on the high side of town like Nico and Hazel. Nico didn’t like to stand outside their door too long, especially with that pale, beady-eyed neighbor of theirs. When he knocked once, he waited five minutes. Then he knocked again. He peeked around the side of the building to the resident parking lot. Will’s car was there. So was Lou’s. Why weren’t they answering? It was only 6:04. Will especially took a while to wind down after a shift. There was no way he would have walked in and crashed on the couch. He was up. Why wasn’t he answering?
Nico lowered his eyes to the peephole in the middle of the doorframe. Oh.
He knocked again. After another minute, the door finally cracked open, and Lou Ellen Blackstone, 5’ nothing, skinny as can be, leaned to block the entrance.
“Nico,” she said, in a tone that she probably thought was neutral enough to keep him from suspecting anything.
“I want to see Will,” he said.
“Will’s not home,” she said. A shuffle from inside the apartment echoed to the door. She glanced back in concern before snapping her gaze back to Nico. “Can I take a message?”
“Since when do you take messages, Lou?”
Lou Ellen raised her chin defiantly. “Since I decided to be nice. Do you have an issue with that, Nico?” She crossed her arms and stretched up. So she was pissed. Probably on Will’s behalf. What the hell had he told her?
Nico clenched his teeth together. “Y ou have an issue with me. Lou, I just want to talk to Will. I don’t think that’s asking for much. Is he really so upset that he can’t even answer the door?”
Lou didn’t answer. She tellingly glanced back behind her.
Nico leaned a little closer to the door. “Will, I’m sorry! But this is kind of pathetic. We’re soulmates. We’re supposed to be able to talk to each other. Are you really going to hide in there behind your soulmates?”
If Lou Ellen had felt any sympathy for Nico, not that she’d shown it, it all disappeared. “What makes you think you have the right to see him right now? Will is not pathetic. You know that you-- You can’t blame him for being upset,” she said.
Nico’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not. I just--” He needed to see him. He needed to fix it.
Lou’s magenta lips stretched into a grimace. “If you didn’t live with Hazel, I’d punch you right now. Good night, Nico.”
-
Thursday, December 12th, 2013
Nico would be the first to admit he’d fallen asleep in a student lounge before. He’d spent four years at this university, and he’d grown to learn that sometimes the only way to get a decent amount of sleep was to curl up on a couch in a lounge and take a nap during a break. This guy took it to a whole new level. Nico had sat down after his class on grieving had ended, and he’d intended to finish his essay when a stocky underclassman wandered in as well, with a large bag instead of a backpack. He didn’t look at Nico. He didn’t even seem to realize he was there, actually. The guy run a hand through his fluffy blond hair and sat down on the opposite sofa, placing his bag slightly off to the side. He reached in, and Nico figured he was going to pull out some textbooks. That was fine. As long as people were studying quietly, Nico didn’t mind sharing the lounge. But then the guy pulled out a pillow and a blanket, and how did that fit in there? Nico stared blankly at the guy, who suddenly looked up at him.
“I didn’t get to bed until 10 last night. Homework,” he explained. “And then I had an 8 a.m. Mm. Need my rest.” He slumped back onto the couch and was out within seconds.
What the fuck?
Nico went to bed at 10 if he was sick. How could this guy think that was late? And be tired? Why was Nico watching him snore on the couch in the lounge as if it were more interesting than grieving?
Perhaps it was curiosity, or Nico’s innate dickishness that made him start pestering the guy. He tore off the erasers of the crappy pencils they handed out around campus that he always took because he was cheap. They more smudged than erased, so it didn’t hurt to get rid of them. That did nothing to Sleepy. Nico then moved on to tossing the pencils themselves. He’d started stealing Will’s, so he didn’t really need them. That did nothing either. He checked his phone for the time. 10:34. Still twenty minutes before he needed to get up to had to class. Presumably, Sleepy would get up then too. Twenty minutes to see if anything would wake this guy up, then.
It was after Nico threw a wadded brochure on study-abroads that he finally gave up. “God, what are you--sleeping beauty? Do I have to kiss you to wake you up?” he exclaimed, glancing around and realizing the lounge was empty save for them after he spoke. God. If someone had heard that.
“Prefer if you took me on a date first,” Sleepy muttered.
Nico froze, his ears suddenly pink. “You . . . heard that?”
Sleepy nodded, peeking a warm brown eye open. “You spent this whole time throwing things at me. Couldn’t sleep.”
Oh. Oh . Nico was a fucking moron.
Sleepy, luckily, didn’t seem too annoyed by Nico’s actions. He sat up and smiled, a nice smile that made it easy to relax. “I’m Clovis. Psych major. I have an unidentified sleep disorder. It’s difficult for me to stay awake for long periods of time,” he explained.
“Well, now I feel like a dick,” Nico said.
Clovis’s half-smile grew just slightly. “You can make it up to me by taking me out to dinner.”
Shit. Shit, Nico, a guy is hitting on you. Say something. Accept! Get a date!
His mouth didn’t listen to his brain very well. “Could you even stay awake for dinner?”
Clovis paused. “Probably not,” he admitted. “Maybe just treat me to pizza then. We can do it at my apartment. Text me?” He picked up the brochure Nico had tossed and unfolded it, scribbling his number below the email address for the program. Then he wadded it back up and tossed it at Nico’s head before grabbing his pillow, blanket, and bag and heading off down the hall.
Clovis, Nico thought. He was kind of cute. It wouldn’t hurt.
-
Friday, December 8th, 2017
The Chase-Jackson house rested just outside of the city--close enough to everything they could need, but far enough out that Annabeth had a decent plot of land to develop their dream home. It was very beautiful, Nico had to admit as he walked up to the door. Jason had said Annabeth was incredible, but this was beyond what he’d anticipated.
The welcome mat sat in front of the steps of the porch, and Nico wiped the snow off of his boots before he climbed up the steps and rang the doorbell. It was no wonder the mat was down there. The porch was rather slick. He waited for a few moments, then heard a growing bark and a slam against the door. Muffled voices floated through the door, and a moment later, the door opened to reveal a tall blonde woman and a dark-haired man with his arms wrapped around a large dog behind her. The woman smiled congenially, though she looked a bit ragged, a few curls escaping her ponytail.
“Hi. You must be Jason’s friend. I’m Annabeth. This is my husband, Percy,” she said, pushing the sleeves of her sweater up and gesturing at the man behind her.
Percy beamed, his green eyes bright as his fingers curled a little tighter around the dog’s collar. “Hey! This is Mrs. O’Leary. Sorry, she gets a little excited about visitors,” he explained.
Nico forced a polite smile as he stepped inside and shut the door. “No problem. My dad has a dog a lot like her,” he said. Cerberus might have been worse, as he seemed like he had three personalities. He pulled off his hat and ran his hand over his face in attempt to warm up, ears and nose red from the cold. The house itself was a little warm, and he hesitantly reached to unbutton his coat.
“Oh-- Percy, show him where the coat rack is. I’m going to finish dinner,” Annabeth said. She turned and walked into another room, and Percy let Mrs. O’Leary go. She started to pounce on Nico, but a whistle from her master stopped her. Still, she bounced eagerly, all fluff and paws. If Nico knew these people at all, he’d have reached for the dog because dog . But since this was his first time meeting them, he figured he ought to hold back a little.
“Stay,” Percy ordered before pushing his way in front. “Sorry. Our coat rack is in a weird place. Well, it’s-- Annabeth says it’s more efficient, space-wise, and I just go along,” he explained as he pulled out the contraption she’d built into the house. “She knows best.”
After Nico had handed over his coat, Percy embarked on a tour of the house that illustrated just how little he understood of his wife’s design sense and how much he adored all of her choices in spite of that. The house was easy to navigate (thankfully, as Percy’s directions couldn’t have led a rat through a tube) and absolutely aesthetically stunning. They seemed like the most organized couple Nico had ever met, and they weren’t much older than he was. Nico was unwillingly jealous.
“So you’re one of Jason’s soulmates too,” Percy said as they walked along the stretch above the first floor living room. Nico really liked this place. If he didn’t like living in a townhouse so much, he might have told Percy and Annabeth to adopt him.
“Yeah,” Nico said. “Actually, I’m surprised we haven’t met. I knew he knew you, but he always acted like you lived far away.”
Percy waved his hand. “Well, we did. AB and I, we lived with our other soulmate out in California for some years. Then Grover and his new girlfriend decided to hit the road for a save-the-earth type deal, and Annabeth and I decided it might be time to move back to the east coast. She got a great job, and I found something decent for me. My mom and stepdad live up here as well, so it worked out.”
Nico tried not to react too much at the word soulmate in that context. It was weird to actually acknowledge that Percy and Annabeth were soulmates and in a romantic relationship. They certainly weren’t the first married soulmates Nico had ever met, but he’d never really imagined a romance.
Except for Will .
Percy seemed to notice where his thoughts were leading. “Why don’t we head down to the kitchen?” he suggested. “Annabeth is probably done by now. Or we can just hang out in the kitchen and bug her. Her eyes get kind of freaky when she’s mad. It’s funny.”
They headed down the staircase and turned into the kitchen, where Annabeth was balancing dishes and heading to the dining room. “Perfect timing,” she said. “Help me carry, boys.” Her voice left no room to argue, and Percy immediately reached for the dish that seemed ready to tip, as well as catching a dish that had looked to be perfectly stable. Nico raised a brow but said nothing as he passed those dishes to him.
When the table had been set up and they’d gone through the traditional compliments of the food, Annabeth immediately set her attention on Nico.
“Jason told us a little about your situation,” she said. “Will is his name?”
Nico choked on a carrot. Mrs. O’Leary bounded into the dining room and jumped on his back as if to give the doggy Heimlich maneuver.
“Missus, down,” Percy scolded. He snuck her a piece of meat. Annabeth rolled her eyes.
“Look, I’m not trying to push you or anything, but you did come to talk to us about that, right?” she asked. “Yes, Percy and I are soulmates. Yes, we love each other romantically. And I know we’re the exception to the rule. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. But you are soulmates. It will work out somehow.”
Nico lowered his fork, eyes on the tablecloth. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here. What can anyone do anyway?” he asked.
Annabeth looked something like an older sister with the way she smiled there. “We can support you. To be honest, I’m kind of glad Jason mentioned you. We haven’t had much time to settle into a social crowd yet. I mean, we know Leo and Piper, of course, but it seems like everyone’s changed so much since we last lived here.”
“That’s because you’re too busy at work,” Percy teased. His voice wasn’t bitter at all. He sounded so proud of his wife, like he wanted to brag to the world that she was the smartest, most talented architect to ever live.
“You love it,” she said as she leaned in for a kiss. Without any ceremony or even noticing that she’d ignored Nico in favor of her husband, she turned back to her guest. “Jason said you’re a mortician.”
Nico tried not to make a face. It wasn’t normally a subject he brought up upon first meeting someone new--at least, not anyone he actually wanted to know--as most people found his profession distasteful.
“I am,” he said.
“Cool,” Percy said. “Do you have any, like, stories of people coming back to life in their coffin?”
“Percy,” Annabeth said, her gray eyes sharp as she looked over at him. “Actually, do you?”
Nico snorted. “It’s . . . not really a common thing,” he said. “I mean, movies would like you to think so, but no. Most of my stories are a little more, uh--”
Annabeth leaned forward. “Tell us,” she demanded.
Nico’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, flipping through memories as if to search for just the right thing. “Right. Well. Once the hearse driver was running late, so he decided it would be a great idea to speed to the funeral home. The body half-fell out of the coffin. That was great to explain to the widower,” he said.
“Yikes,” Percy said, laughing around his spoonful of peas. Annabeth lightly swatted his cheek. He nuzzled into her hand without a second thought.
Nico had seen a lot of romantic couples over the years, but he’d never seen a couple so in sync, so completely comfortable with each other, even when they weren’t necessarily doing anything romantic. The closest any had come was Jason and Piper, who shared a soulmate and had been friends long before they’d added anything romantic to their relationship.
The part of Nico’s brain that couldn’t accept Will had no interest in him wondered how they would have worked together. The rest of Nico wanted to smash that part into bits. He must have been making a bitter expression, as Percy and Annabeth pulled apart, and Annabeth smiled sympathetically.
“I know this may not be the best advice from someone married to her soulmate,” she began, “but you should know you’ll get through it. Your soulmate as well. The important part of having soulmates is that good ones never give up the relationship, not entirely. Maybe he needs some time, but you’ll make it through.”
Percy nodded in agreement, the mirth dying from his eyes. “Yeah. That’s one of the hardest things Annabeth and I had to figure out. We agreed that if anything ever happens, and our romantic relation ends, we’ll make sure to stay together as soulmates. Because regardless of what I feel for her romantically, she is my soulmate. She understands me in a way no one else does, and I don’t want to let her go so easily.”
Disgusting. Nico would have thought those words would have made him even more bitter. Clearly Will didn’t care enough about their soulemateship to let him go so easily. And yet . . . maybe they were right. Maybe it would work out. Maybe it would just take time.
Mrs. O’Leary trotted in from another room, squishing her large body underneath the table.
“Missus,” Annabeth scolded half-heartedly as the dog’s movements bounced the tabletop. Her hands reached to glue the dishes down, though a few food items still sloshed around. She looked at her husband. “Your dog.”
“Isn’t she great?” Percy asked, reaching underneath the table to stroke her head. Annabeth couldn’t fight a smile for long.
As if she sensed who needed her presence most, Mrs. O’Leary settled at Nico’s feet. Her heavy, fluffy head on top of his feet, Nico was sure. Things would work out.
-
Friday, February 14, 2014
Nico needed to learn how to say no to Will. He really did.
“Let’s go on a double date for Valentine’s Day,” Nico muttered as he shuffled through his closet. “Let’s have this be the first time you meet my new girlfriend. Let’s actually go to a fancy restaurant where you have to dress up and look nice.”
“You should give her a break,” Clovis said with a yawn from Nico’s bed. He’d arrived at the townhouse dressed nicely, but his hair was already coming undone from where he’d fallen asleep on Nico’s bed, wrinkles in his finely pressed clothes. If they had more time, Nico might have had him undress and reiron his clothes, but Nico really wasn’t that concerned when they had to be at the restaurant in ten minutes, and he hadn’t even picked his own clothes yet. “She’s probably more nervous than you. You are his soulmate after all, and you’re kind of hard to impress.”
Nico furrowed his brow as he yanked a button-up off of his hanger, sliding it on over his undershirt. “I’m not hard to impress,” he said.
Clovis stared, warm brown eyes almost burning. “You kind of are.”
“I’m dating you.”
Clovis tossed a pillow in his direction, and Nico dodged, digging through his drawers to find a decent pair of pants. As he finished the base of his outfit, he grabbed a plain red tie, hands making the knot without a second thought after so many years of wearing a tie almost every day in his father’s house. Though he hadn’t struggled at all putting this ensemble together, clearly Clovis had never seen him dressed like this, as he was staring, mouth half-open.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Nico said a little softer, stepping up to his boyfriend and placing his hands on his shoulder. “You know, I would have rather stayed in with you and watched a movie. Or took a nap.”
Clovis shook his head. “We do that all the time,” he said. “It’s not a big deal to go out once, especially for Will. I know how much he means to you. Besides, I get to see you looking nice. It’s not a bad look for you.”
Nico smiled and leaned down for a kiss.
“Nico! Did you fall asleep again?” Hazel yelled from the kitchen. Damn his half-sister and her ever present need to be his alarm. Well, not damn her, Nico amended, pulling back from Clovis to check his hair in the mirror, then helping his boyfriend off of the bed and leading the way downstairs. He would have been late to far too many things for turning off his lip and going back to sleep if she wasn’t such an angel.
“We’re leaving,” Nico said as he walked through the kitchen. Hazel nodded from the kitchen table, her hair in a bun. He patted the bun, and she swatted at him. “Hey, I got you a Valentine’s gift. It’s on top of the fridge.”
“Why?” Hazel asked, looking up from her laptop.
“You like those orange chocolates. And I owe you.”
She smiled. “I know you do. But what are sister-soulmates for?”
At the risk of being too sappy, Nico wrapped his arms around her waist to give her a hug, then lifted her out of the chair and dropped her on the floor. “Bye, nerd. Get your nose back in the book.”
Hazel lifted her head, eyes bright with indignity. She launched herself at his calves, knocking him over. He fell into the chair, side hitting the seat. As soon as she’d had her revenge, she let go, straightening up and dusting herself. “Tell Will I said hi. Keep him in line, Clovis.”
“Will do,” Nico and Clovis said at the same time, entwining their hands and heading out the door.
They managed to arrive at the restaurant only five minutes late, which Nico counted as a win until they walked in and Will’s latest paramour lifted her head, snapped her gum, and said, “We’ve been waiting.” She was dressed in a blood red dress, a sheer scarf thing wrapped around her shoulders that couldn't have done anything to protect her from the cold. At her side, Will looked much more seasonably dressed, a hat covering his ears, a scarf tied tightly around his neck, and the wool coat Nico had bought him for Christmas.
“Things happened,” Nico said. “We’re here.”
“I figured they would. I made the reservation for 7:30, actually, in case you got held up at work,” Will said brightly, though he gave Nico a look that said, “Please tell her that’s what happened.”
Nico glanced to Clovis, who seemed to side with Will. Everyone always sided with Will when it came to Nico’s temper.
They were probably right to do so.
“If you made the reservation for then, why did you pick me up so early?” the woman asked, her dark eyes cold and sharp with her perfect eyeliner.
“It’s . . . Valentine’s Day,” said Will. “I wanted to spend time with you.”
“Great Valentine’s Day, sitting and waiting on your soulmate in a crowded restaurant, where I can’t even hear you speak,” she snapped.
Nico cleared his throat. Will smiled sheepishly.
“Oh, so Nico, Clovis, this is my girlfriend Drew Tanaka,” he said. “Drew, this is my soulmate Nico and his boyfriend Clovis.”
“Pleasure,” Drew said, clearly not pleased at all. Well. If she was going to be a bitch, Nico could be a dick right back.
“Let’s just get our table, yeah?” Clovis said, his hand grabbing Nico’s elbow. Nico settled back down, just slightly, looking over to Will. Will sent the both of them a grateful look.
Once they’d sat down, things didn’t get any better. The table had been set with a red tablecloth and glasses of water, a decently nice dinner by any college student’s standards.
“I don’t see anything good on this menu,” Drew said after skimming it lightly.
Will made an embarrassed expression. “I told you to check it out before I made the reservation,” he said softly.
“You know what I like,” she countered.
“I can’t remember everything, Drew,” he said, brows knitting together.
Shit. Nico leaned closer to Clovis. “They’re about to break up, aren’t they?”
“Looks that way,” Clovis replied, ducking his head and wiping condensation off of his glass.
“We should have stayed home.”
Clovis nudged his side. “Just relax. It’s one night.”
One night might be way too long, Nico thought. When Drew finally decided on a meal, she complained that it had taken too long to get her order. She complained that the restaurant was cold until Will offered his jacket, and then it was that Will’s jacket had cheap lining.
“Drew,” Will hissed, his brown skin rapidly growing a shade of red Nico hadn’t even known he could achieve. His jaw was tight, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“What?” she said. “I am who I am, Will.  You can’t change that.”
“All I asked was that you try to be nice for one night. Nico is my soulmate. I wanted you to make a good impression,” he said, voice growing slightly louder until Nico and Clovis couldn’t pretend they weren’t listening.
“You’re asking me to be someone I’m not.”
“That’s not what I--”
Drew shook her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It was lovely to meet the two of you, but I think it’s time I head out,” she said. She tossed Will’s jacket back at him and strolled out of the restaurant ignoring her (ex?-) boyfriend’s blank stare.
Will looked to Nico and Clovis, swallowing thickly, pressing his lips together until they formed something like a smile. “I’m . . . sorry. This was a bad idea,” he said. “Ugh, and she already ordered.”
“I’ll take it home for Hazel,” Nico said. “She’s been studying so hard. I bet she forgot to make dinner anyway.”
“Hey, no,” Will said. “You two shouldn’t let me ruin your Valentine’s Day. Don't stick around here for my sake. I'll get the bill.”
Clovis smiled. “We weren’t planning on doing much anyway. Let’s just eat and catch a movie or something.”
“And you're not paying. You know it doesn't mean much to me to pay for a meal like this, so shut up and deal with feeling indebted. Or better yet, get over it." Nico's voice softened slightly. "You’ve got to come, Will. Clovis won’t stay awake for me, but he will for someone he has to impress."
“Maybe you just bore me,” Clovis replied.
Will cracked a smile. “If you’re sure . . . .”
“Positive. We want you to come,” said Clovis. Nico smiled over at him. He was a pretty great boyfriend.
-
Thursday, December 14th, 2017
Annabeth and Percy had said to give Will space. Nico acknowledged that that was a good idea. Nico himself rarely followed good ideas. He last a few days before he felt the urge to try again on his walk to his car after work.
Phone to his ear, his fingers felt cold even through his gloves, and he consoled himself that even if Will didn’t pick up the phone, Nico would at least be able to put his hands back in his pockets, where they’d be nice and warm. Instead, the dial tone faltered, and suddenly, there was something on the other side of the line. Nico’s heart stuttered as well, and he swallowed. After what felt like weeks upon weeks of being ignored (just slightly over a month, if Nico were being honest), he almost let out a sigh of relief. “Will,” he said.
“Hey,” Will said, his voice not as stilted as it had been the past few times they’d spoken. The bit of warmth had slipped back in, his smooth voice as soothing as ever. “Nico--”
“Please let me talk,” said Nico.
Will fell silent.
“You are my soulmate. I want you to know that,” Nico began. “Beyond anything, you will always be soulmate. And I know I’m not . . . super affectionate or anything, but you should never doubt that you mean as much to me as the rest of them. I wouldn’t want to lose one of them any more than I’d want to lose you. And I think it’s a bit fucking stupid to just ignore each other after only seven years. Hell, Hazel’s put up with me for twenty-five. She has first dibs on dumping me.”
For a moment, the line was so quiet, just a ruffle of static from Nico’s breaths and his fingers tapping on the phone. Then, finally, a soft snort echoed into Nico’s ear. Nico knew that snort. Will was laughing.
“I missed you,” he said softly. In spite of himself, Nico’s stomach flipped. He still loved Will, romantically and more.
“I missed you too,” Nico said. “I just . . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say any more. Words had never been his strong suit, and none of them felt right to explain what he wanted to Will.
Will let out a breath, shaky through the phone. “I’m still not ready to hang out with you all the time, okay? I don’t think you get how I feel, Nico.”
Nico, closed his eyes, digging in his pocket with his other hand for his keys. “Okay,” he said as he unlocked his car and climbed inside, a little warmer for the lack of wind. “But you can try to explain it to me.”
Will was quiet. “Not yet,” he said.
“Can we keep talking?” Nico asked. “I haven’t . . . . How’s work?”
“Work. Really?” Will asked.
“Just talk, Solace,” Nico said, not quite begging. Will indulged him anyway. Sitting there in his car alone, not even starting the engine, no heat on, Nico felt warmer than he had in weeks. He wasn’t going to lose Will. Not completely.
He shifted his phone so it rested on his shoulder, absently listening to Will’s stories of his coworkers as he started the car, before hooking the call to his car’s speaker.
“Cecil and Lou are getting pretty sick of me being home all the time, actually. I think they’ll be glad to know we talked,” Will said suddenly.
Nico paused, eyes glued to the red stoplight ahead of him. “Lou said she wanted to punch me.”
Will faltered. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have told them,” he said.
Nico shook his head, though Will couldn’t see him. “They’re your soulmates. You needed the support.”
“Yeah, but--” Will paused. “You’re my soulmate too. It was your business.”
“Until I told you. Then it was yours,” Nico replied.
“Still--”
“Will,” Nico interrupted, “just let it go.”
“. . . I should probably let you go. I need to eat before going into work,” Will said.
“Night shift again?”
Will scoffed. “Yeah. It’s what happens to us newbies. I’ll probably be working New Year’s Eve again.”
“Sorry,” said Nico.
“It’s fine,” Will said. “Hey, I’ll just-- I don’t know when I’ll see you again. Your birthday at the latest, okay? Don’t get mad if we don’t speak until then.”
“Okay,” Nico agreed.
“See you,” Will said as he hung up, not giving Nico a chance to respond.
“See you,” Nico replied anyway, watching as the light turned green. He blinked as he drove through and added, “I love you.”
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princessajasmine · 3 years
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#033
Mr. Jason Malcolm stood in the windows of his perfectly polished office. His office just a mere block from Jasmine Taylor’s club. Jasmine Taylor, the daughter he never knew he had. Damn Nicoletta for hiding this from him. He had a right to know about the child. No she had just decided to give their child the Taylor name. Anger overcame him at the thought of Nicoletta doing that to him and he ran his arm over his desk everything crashing to the floor. “Damnit.” He muttered. “Jones!” he bellowed to the man standing outside of his office. “Bring her to me.”
The man that he called nodded his head, “Yes, sir. Harmed or unharmed?” All of the men that worked for Jason Malcolm knew that she would fight back. Knew that things would be difficult for them to get to the girl. She had shadows around every corner.
“I would prefer unharmed but if an accident should happen call on the way here and I’ll make sure she is treated.” He did not want his daughter hurt but he refused to let her fall into the hands of Alexander Maxwell. He had heard all the stories. It was time for him to have a little chat with his daughter. “Toss the jewelry. I don’t trust it.” He said it as an after thought thinking about how the last time he had his daughter he had found her before he was ready.
Jones nodded his head at the statements. He would hate to damage the girl but after the fight she put up last time. He would make sure she knew he wasn’t happy to be doing this again. He left and gathered three additional men to go with him. He gave them the run down of the things that were to happen. He would be the only one to handle Miss Taylor though.
Jasmine was at Maxwell Publishing in the middle of a staff meeting when her phone buzzed. “Excuse me.” It was fun one of the authors that they were going to be publishing within the next week. “Angie can you continue for me while I take this?” She asked her assistant. The brunette nodded her head as Jasmine left the conference room. She motioned for Sebastian to follow her. She needed to stretch her legs and she wanted coffee from the place down the street.
“Mikael, we need you to come in Friday to look at the final copy. It goes to print over the weekend. We will have copies sent out by the end of the month. You’ll officially be in print by Monday morning.” She spoke into the phone. She listened to him. “We can certainly have you come in this afternoon if that works better for you.” She had a way about talking to the authors that they were handling. “Excellent, we will see you this afternoon. Does 3 work for you?” She nodded her head as she listened. “See you at 3.”
Jasmine stopped in front of the coffee shop, “Sebastian, can you call Alex and let him know that I’ll be getting off later than 3 please. Work.” She bounded inside the coffee shop ordering her usual. Venti Caramel Macchiato Latte extra caramel drizzle. She came out of the shop sipping at the drink and going over thoughts for the afternoon. She would return to her meeting in the conference room. She would see Mikael at 3 to go over cover designs. Font size. Pages. They were standing in front of Maxwell Publishing when a black SUV came to a screeching halt.
Sebastian pushed her behind him and moved her closer to the door. “Jasmine,” he knew she hated the name but needed her to know it was serious. “Inside now!” She moved towards the door when the first shot went off. It wasn’t at Sebastian but her keeping her from going into the building. “Mr. Maxwell will not appreciate the fact that you shot at his wife.”
Jones held the gun pointing it at her, “Well Mr. Malcolm does not care if I bring her to him harmed or unharmed. So what Mr. Maxwell things is not my concern.” He moved the gun to point it at Sebastian. ”Now hand over the girl.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. See if I hand over the girl. I might as well hand Mr. Maxwell the gun to shoot me with too.” Sebastian knew that the doors were bullet proof. Something that had been designed without Jasmine’s knowing. He needed her inside those doors.
Jasmine knew that Sebastian carried concealed. She didn’t even want to think of how many weapons this man carried on him when he was with her. She noticed at the small of his back what was a weapon. A good place to keep one where she wouldn’t notice it because he walked behind her or beside her. She was never usually behind him. “Sebastian, you’re carrying.” She said softly. She gingerly reached for the gun her hands not able to be seen by the man before them with the gun pointed at Sebastian. She took it from it’s location and fighting back any need to puke her brains out at that moment she stepped just far enough out from behind Sebastian.
“I think it’s a good idea if you leave. I remember you from the last time my father sent you.” She was trying hard not to shake. “I have an itchy trigger finger right now. Shall we see if I can hit a target or not? We know I have excellent foot stomping ability. I wonder if you’d miss a toe if I were to actually be able to hit your foot.” She was brazen with her words. Knowing she wouldn’t actually be able to pull off anything she said.
Jones aimed back at her, “You silly little girl. Don’t you know guns can kill people?” He took aim back at Sebastian and fired at his left leg. “Get in…” The second sound of a shot cut his words off. “Son of a bitch!” Jones got into the car and the car sped off.
“Sebastian!” Jasmine screamed. Alex was going to kill her for getting him hurt. She noticed the blood near where the car had been she had hit him but she was not worried about that. She was more concerned about her shadow. She put the gun down beside Sebastian. “I’m going to throw up.” She picked up her phone and sent Alex a text, ‘Sebastian’s been shot.’
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