#so sort of any argument that brings up Tim as someone who asks for/offers help is borderline meaningless in this era of the series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In Q3 of 2020, 31% of US users access the Tumblr app daily.

#so sort of any argument that brings up Tim as someone who asks for/offers help is borderline meaningless in this era of the series

muddyhippy · 3 years

Photo

Night Terrors, Chapter 8: Lying in the Dark (11k)

As always gorgeous artwork done by @smolghostings

Lying in the Dark

Jonny wasn’t in his room.

It was late, well, it felt late but he wasn’t in his room. That was rare, he was normally easy to find. Only sometimes he was doing something else. But still, she’d had a bad dream and she wanted him to tell her it was alright. He was very good at it, when he said things were alright she believed him. He gave really good cuddles too. She liked sleeping in with him when she got really scared, he made her feel safe and he kept the bad dreams away for the rest of the night.

It hadn’t been a horribly bad dream, or at least, not as horrible as they were back on the ship but it was still a bad one, one with screaming and blood and accusations. She wanted him. Wanted to know that it was just her brain telling her lies again. The bad ones couldn’t hurt her anymore and they weren’t hiding on the ship anywhere and her people weren’t cross with her for leaving them behind to live with the Mechanisms. Jonny knew a liar when he saw one he said, he knew a lie when he heard it too so he could tell her that it was just a bad dream and nothing more.

Nothing to be scared of.

Lily hummed unhappily, trying to think of where to look. She could wait for him, but she didn’t want to be on her own that long. If she was looking for him then she was doing something to fix it herself.

She carried on humming, the corridor was quiet but hummed a little bit in response.

Lily didn’t really notice the change in pitch of it as she wandered along, too preoccupied with a lurking nightmare and looking in each and every door along the way.

She was so busy investigating the doors to the side she didn’t notice the access panel open at the end of the corridor, when she emerged from the latest room she just assumed it was another open door. Lily wandered in, her search for Jonny far too important to worry about the possibility of getting lost.

Aurora knew exactly what she was doing. She recognised the child’s humming and responded in kind. The little one was sad, sad and scared and missing someone. Missing Jonny.

Lily had woken up after tossing and turning and crying out.

Aurora often watched over the little one, making sure she had someone looking in on her. She often pinged Jonny’s communicator to warn him if it looked like Lily was having a particularly bad one. They’d been increasing in number recently. More crying and screaming from the child which was something Aurora hated to see.

She liked Lily, the child was bright and made her crew smile, bringing some sort of lightness with her when she laughed and smiled and danced. It made the darkness of her dreams all that more stark.

Aurora had got into the habit of alerting Jonny whenever he was awake and he would always go to comfort the child wholeheartedly without a single hesitation, but she drew the line of when he was sleeping.

She knew her love worried about the first mate, the fact that until Lily he’d been slowly getting colder and harder and wilder. More trigger happy, heavier drinking and going for weeks without sleep. She was worried his descent into extended self-destruction would be irreparable but each time she’d tried to broach the subject she’d been rebuffed as though he had no idea what she’d been talking about even if this had been going on, bit by bit, for centuries.

With Lily joining the crew it had forced Jonny into altering his behaviour pretty drastically, and to a lesser extent had forced the entire crew too. They were now trying to avoid murdering each other outright, violence in general had dropped to a bare minimum because no one wanted to make Lily cry the way she had on her first night with them. That had been horrific, and whilst they may all be bastards of the highest order, they may be entertained by war and death but they weren’t complete monsters and they didn’t enjoy listening to or worse, being the cause of a child who obviously adored them sobbing her little heart out.

Lily, latching on to Jonny as she had, had thrown real, serious and immediate responsibility into his lap. But instead of bolting or imploding like almost the whole crew had expected him to, he rose to the challenge. Nastya and Aurora however had hoped the child would have this affect on him, she’d seen Jonny long before the others had been forcibly added to the crew. She knew far more of how he worked, how much he cared.

Lily gave Jonny intrinsic permission to care, loudly and openly without a shred of derision or the threat of punishment for caring. She was a little girl who needed love and reassurance and surety. And Jonny provided it, unconsciously most of the time, she was a priority to him and so he gave her his attention and did what he could to make sure she was alright.

It had pleased Aurora and Nastya no end to see how much Lily reciprocated that even without truly understanding the extent of it.

Jonny even had somewhat of a routine now, he was forced to talk instead of shooting his way out or he could just leave the room without blowing up if things were too much. He was starting to practice sharing his real thoughts and feelings, both ship and engineer were deeply amused that such an accomplished liar found it impossible to really lie to Lily, omitting some truths until she was older excepting, he answered honestly to any question she asked. Then again, so did the rest of the crew when she had a question, no one had really learned to withstand the eyes yet.

He put her to bed at night and often woke in the morning to her snuggled against him. He’d eased off on his drinking for the most part, wanting to be semi-sober to deal with any bad nightmares and he’d slept more in the last four and half months than he had in the last four years.

Aurora was pleased to see that when Lily joined the first mate in his bunk both occupants slept more easily and peacefully.

Which was why Aurora was loath ever to wake him.

This time however, Jonny was not asleep.

Aurora happened to know exactly where he was, he’d got swept up into a spirited argument with about something that was long overdue and needed settling whilst the ceasefire was in place. Aurora would be tempted to eject them both into space if they attempted to hash this out with their usual methods, she nearly had done the last time this was broached several centuries ago. That time Brian and Ivy had killed them both before they got dangerously destructive.

They needed to actually argue and resolve things without murdering each other for once so she steered Lily away from that cathartic nonsense and guided her instead down to her love who’d been a little despondent of late and could probably use the affection Lily gave freely to anyone who wanted it.

Lily wandered guilessly down into the depths of the starship, humming along in tune unbeknownstly with Aurora.

She was just beginning to get worried that she was really very lost when she heard some familiar muttering up ahead.

“Nastya?”

The muttering stopped.

“Nastya?” She called again, a little louder this time.

“ Маленький ?”

“What?”

There was more muttering which quickly flipped to English.

“Lily?”

“Nastya? Where are you?”

The engineer appeared from the other side of a service hatch.

“What are you doing down here?” She looked about for an accompanying Jonny, surprised that Lily appeared to be on her own, “You should be in bed.”

Lily suddenly remembered why she was here in the first place.

“Had a bad dream, wanted Jonny but I couldn’t find him.” The child sniffed, rubbing at her eye with her sleeve.

Sometimes it struck Nastya all over again just how young Lily was. When she was up and bouncing with the crew it was almost easy to forget, she was so full of life and smiles, bringing out what could arguably be described as the best of them that it was very easy to equate them all together, like she just belonged and fitted in as if she’d always been there.

Especially since they’d all tried hard to curb their more violent instincts around her.

Right now, Nastya was painfully reminded of her own young self.

The engineer was never entirely sure exactly how to handle Lily, her own childhood was so very different what Lily had experienced so far both on her own ship and with them. She was free with her affection and care with them all which was surprisingly pleasant after a fashion.

It had taken Nastya a while to get used to Lily’s exuberant love for the crew, for their lives and especially for her own love, Aurora. Lily had accepted the two of them without a single qualm, only asking Nastya how she communicated and if she could learn to say hello too.

That, that had stilled her.

Jonny had learned enough to interpret Aurora’s clearer messages, as had Brian to an extent given he was her pilot and they needed to work together, Ivy and Raphaella, the latter pair inspired by curiosity. Tim too, knew some of her simpler sounds, mainly due to his first few weeks conscious it took him a while to get used to his new multileveled-vision. He kept his eyes closed when he was too overwhelmed. Aurora had hummed to him in the darkness of those confusing weeks because he was nearly as young as her Nastya and Jonny, another boy gone to war too soon and seen too much.

Brian had an understanding because he felt something of a kinship with her, sentience encased in steel and brass and Jonny because he’d been there the longest, Aurora had done her best to help him when it was just him, when he’d won her from the soldiers but before he and Carmilla had brought on board her love when he was actually, truly, young and lost, scared and very betrayed. She’d hidden him when she could and he’d learned which of her noises meant that she was pleased, annoyed or was offering comfort.

Aurora had told Nastya that she had composed a lullaby for each of the crew but only a few of them actually noticed. She was still working on one for Lily whilst Nastya had an entire anthology dedicated to her composed over centuries, each created to show her love for her engineer.

Lily had asked in her second week about Aurora, found out they were in love and beamed. Then asked about talking to her. Lily was still learning, it took a while to get past the basics of different sounds and she wasn’t confident talking to Aurora on her own truly. Nastya had explained that it didn’t matter that she couldn’t understand Aurora’s replies and that she could talk to her anyway. Lily had argued that that felt rude to just talk at someone and not be able to listen properly and be equal.

Nastya had made the mistake of saying she should sing to her instead then.

Lily had taken this to mean sing-everything-you-want-to-say-to-Aurora-instead-of-speaking-it.

It was unbearably cute sometimes.

Not that she would admit to deeming anything ‘cute’ to anyone but Aurora.

Aurora had cooed to Nastya about it for three full weeks when it first began, telling her of the stories Lily sang to her in her room. Lily sang to her telling Aurora all about the tea parties with the Toy Soldier, listening to Marius play, reading with Ivy and shooting with Tim all to tunes of her own devising. She sang of science experiments with Raphaella, star charting with Brian, cataloguing and card games with Ashes, all the story telling and cuddling and nightmares she shared with Jonny and mending things with Nastya all rendered with the same piping little voice that showed definite promise. Aurora was delighted to be told things rather than it be assumed she knew anyway, Lily was aware Aurora was the ship and she was alive but whilst she knew Aurora could see everything theoretically, for Lily she was a person who just wasn’t in the room rather than actually being the room. So, wanted to tell her about her adventures.

It made Aurora hum with happiness. And it pleased Nastya to see her love so included.

Lily sniffed again, “can, can I help please?”

Nastya was well-versed enough in Lily-speak to know what she was really asking but didn’t want to be demanding.

“Come on then, I need another pair of hands with this panel.”

Within moments Lily was stationed on Nastya’s lap small spanner in hand carefully unscrewing the more delicate bolts.

This went on peacefully for another 10 minutes until the tell-tale wiggling started.

The movements were slight, reigned in heavily but Nastya knew all about repressed movements, it was her childhood in the palace. Hiding her playfulness and then her constriction under polite curtsies and porcelain smiles.

Lily was a born dancer, she had grace enough to find a home amongst the ballet and ballroom steps of the cold and haughty parties Nastya had been forced to attend, groomed into the perfect wind-up doll to be presentable at parties.

But Lily had no place there.

Lily was a child who was encouraged by them all to feel and share and sing.

Aurora had shown Nastya footage of Lily with the others, waltzing with Tim, Brian and TS as they sang ‘Hatter and Hare’ to her, learning how to classically ballroom with Marius who might not be a real Baron but certainly knew the steps well enough to pass but beamed the entire time whilst teaching her. Jonny had even been teaching her some square dancing, far away from the others on nights when she was too tired to scream and charge about with her rage but to angry to settle back into sleep, they stomped and swirled and dosy-doed with a vengeance.

It warmed her cold, quicksilver-fuelled heart.

So she was an expert in knowing when Lily wanted to say something but wasn’t sure. She found she felt sad that Lily was still unsure of her four and half months into her living with them.

But then again, she saw her less than the others did, more comfortable in the core of the engine decks than the main living areas it was usually Jonny or Aurora herself who guided Lily down to see her when it wasn’t a meal time. Nastya didn’t always make it up for a group meal but she did now make a concerted effort to join them all at least once every few days, especially when if she hadn’t made an appearance for a while Lily would appear with Jonny in tow bringing a lovingly made sandwich which Nastya dutifully ate ignoring the smirking Jonny who stood behind the beaming Lily, happy at having done her self-appointed job of making sure the crew was fed regularly.

She saw a lot of herself in Lily and she didn’t know what to do with that.

The child she herself might have been if protocol and duty hadn’t been forced down her throat the moment she could walk and talk.

It was one of the reasons Nastya didn’t resent teaching Lily anything she asked to learn about. Everything in her formative years had been prescriptive, the least she could do now was contribute properly to Lily’s eclectic education, encouraging any interest no matter how varied or how ‘unladylike’. Nastya’s lip curled, the term still made her thrum with a raging quiet of fury.

Nastya was fairly certain she, Jonny, Tim and the Toy Soldier were the only four that had any form of formal education, for her and Tim at least certainly past the age of 12. TS was mainly taught etiquette and the others either had no memory of it or were not keen to share.

Jonny she knew because he’d confided in her one day when she’d found him hiding from Carmilla’s wrath, her beration ringing through the corridors that she was going to make ‘a backwater dolt like you learn to be a competent assistant even if it takes centuries ’

Nastya had silently dried his tears, used her cool hands to sooth his fresh bruises and assured him he wasn’t stupid.

He’d had to drop out of school at 12 in order to pick up more work to support his mother as his father drank more and more of the household income and hadn’t been confident in his reading, writing or arithmetic.

She’d started helping him get a hang of the basics when they hid together, enough to avoid the more violent repercussions of ‘failing’ the good doctor.

Jonny still wasn’t a fan of anything that sparked.

Still, he, like the others all had useful skills to share.

Ashes was in a similar situation, the orphanage forced the children in their care into nominal education but they’d learned their most important lessons on the street and then with the Sevens.

Jonny and Nastya had done their level best to protect the newly mechanised Ashes from Carmilla’s wrath, ensuring their new crew mate’s literacy was up to scratch. As it was, Ashes with their Quartermaster’s mind took to the particular order and meaning of words and numbers Carmilla expected like a match to gasoline.

All the others were accepted as was.

Lily was eager to learn to as much as possible, she was interested in everything and it seemed to please all the crew that she wanted to listen to them and valued their skills enough to want to emulate them.

Which is why she knew how to carefully undo panel bolts and rewire the smaller plugs and transistors under supervision.

But Lily didn’t come down here to help.

It was 1:30am.

She was up and out of bed and clearly upset.

Nastya wondered where her useless lump of a brother was and how hard she could kill him for leaving her to deal with a sad Lily. Maybe she could take her to Brian or Marius? They were good at this, certainly better at emotions than she was and—

“Nastya?”

Nasyta cursed extensively and creatively in her own head.

“Yes сладости ?” “Have you killed anyone?” Fuck everything and its goddamn siblings. “Why are you asking me that?” “Because everyone else has here.” That was surprisingly matter of fact, for a moment Nastya felt a pang of regret that they had been rubbing off on her. But then again, the child was no stranger to death. “Yes I have.” She answered just as matter-of-factly.

“Do they stay in your head?”

Now THAT was a question. Why was Jonny not here again, the one time she really needed the bastard to be useful and he’d fucked off beyond the seeking of an eight year old. She was going to murder him, he’d got (surprising everyone but her) very good at dealing with Lily’s questions about things like this.

“No, not anymore.” She paused, that wasn’t entirely true. “Well, the first person I killed did stay for years.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I killed people too.”

“No, you killed Jonny, that doesn’t count.”

“It does!”

“He got back up again though.”

“The others didn’t.”

This was something new. Was Lily saying she killed others on her ship? There was no way it was any of the raiders she killed, if she had her nightmares would be different. From what the others had said, almost all of her nightmares were about her fear of those raiders coming back and attacking the Aurora. So obviously she still feared them and hadn’t killed any of them to take that power from them.

So.

Had she had to mercy kill her own people? Could she? There was a core of steel in this child. Enough that Jonny had feared when she first joined them that she would be lost to vengeance.

But Lily had been naught but condensed sunshine during the day and was clearly working through her nightmares during the night, mostly with Jonny and sometimes the others but they’d all been along the same theme.

Why now did it have to be different? She was absolutely going to murder Jonny and throw him out of the airlock, consequences be damned.

“What others?”

“The ones of my ship.” Explained the child.

“You didn’t kill them Lily.” Stated Nastya as firmly as she could.

“I did.”

“No—”

“I didn’t help them.” Pressed the increasingly upset little girl, “They said so.”

Nastya swallowed.

“It’s my fault.”

Oh not a chance.

Nastya physically turned Lily in her lap to face her.

“What did you say?”

“I said it was my fault.” Came Lily’s surprisingly defiant response.

That sparked an unexpected jolt in the engineer. “How? How is it your fault?”

“I didn’t help.” Lily declared firmly, “I hid and stayed quiet and they died. They all died. They all died horribly. Screaming and crying and all I did was hide. I stuffed my sleeve in my mouth so they wouldn’t hear me and hid. I let them all die, all the gunshots and tears and fires.”

Lily’s eyes welled with her own tears once again.

“I didn’t come out until they’d been gone a long time and everything was dark and quiet.”

Her voice was beginning to wobble.

Nastya was unwillingly dragged back to the palace. The roars of the mob, the sound of shattering glass and crackling wood as the fire began to greedily consume her home, everything was sharp and petrichor, the tang of copper heavy on her tongue.

She knew what that child had faced, at least, she knew a flavour and she’d been over double Lily’s age when it had happened. She had fought back but only after the fact, after being mortally wounded, terror forcing her blood out of her louder and faster with every desperate beat of her gasping heart. If only she’d known it was the last time she know the feel of true warmth.

Maybe she would have tried to say no to Carmilla.

As if that would have stopped her.

Still, there had been Jonny who held her those first nights, Jonny who’d found her her coat (and kept it in good repair for her despite all his protestations to the contrary) and gave her the first sense of warmth and safety she felt in those confusing and agonising first weeks.

Whether it was the pain of her body, slowly acclimatising to the quicksilver or the wrenching pain of loss and guilt, feeling that she should have died with them all, that she should have tried to protect them she was wracked with it for months. Or maybe years. It was hard to tell in those early times.

Jonny had introduced her to whiskey and got her drunk on it in a well-meant effort to help her cope and make her feel warm inside. She appreciated the warmth but not the hangover that made her wish she could truly die. She drank in moderation after that. It still helped ward off the sense of cold and misery to an extent, but sleeping in the vents, wrapped up in her coat and Jonny’s arms as they hid eased her the most. She’d never been all that close with her blooded brothers and now, well, her blood and his heart were a match, they adopted each other wordlessly and without ceremony.

Nastya paused, it was funny in a way, that Jonny, of all of them, was the one that could and did provide comfort when it was desperately needed. Oh he was much younger when it was just the two of them, he was far more the frightened boy to her frightened girl, gone to space too young and become immortal without the understanding what that truly meant than he was now, bitter and jaded and calloused to the universe but he’d still been there and he’d protected her when he had no reason to. He could have tried to direct all of Carmilla’s attention on to her, the new plaything and spare himself. But he didn’t. He cared and he protected and he loved even if he didn’t admit it. He built up quite the guard over the centuries when more and more people kept being added and hurt and he couldn’t stop it. He tried anyway. He was still the first on the scene to console each new addition to the crew when that had generally been appreciated. Apart from Tim.

But he became colder and harder and more indifferent on the surface and seethed inside with each passing year and each new addition.

She knew it was by sheer luck that it was Jonny Lily had shot, she probably would have launched herself at whomever she’d killed and then sat back up and Nastya wasn’t sure that Jonny would have been anywhere near as accepting if it wasn’t him she attached herself to, more for Lily’s sake than anything else. She wasn’t an annoying child so no real risk of her being shot but still, Jonny probably would have fought harder to leave her somewhere safe with decent people and not them. She was a good kid after all. But he’d got attached the second he failed to shoot her and she’d clung on. He still, despite everything, couldn’t refuse a hug when it was sorely needed. Even if he never admitted or telegraphed it.

Lily probably had no real idea how lucky she was, having Jonny on side was like having an admittedly annoying but ferocious and lethal guard dog to protect you. Anyone he deemed as ‘his’ was under that protection. He could mess with those people as much as he wanted but the second there was a real threat, an actual, credible danger to ‘his’ people and Jonny could turn all his violent chaotic bastardry into pure, vengeful murder.

But also, Lily apparently gave him permission to show that secret softness he hid pretty well most days to the point it had just become accepted that Jonny had a gentle side that he could and did use with Lily. It was nice to see again after so long.

She’d missed this side of him being as apparent. He saved his real smiles for her which she cherished but still, it was few and far between. Lily had been good for everyone, even if Nastya wasn’t sure exactly how to interact with her. They had such a lot in common in some ways and in others? Completely alien.

Maybe it was better to focus on their shared love of the first mate, (Never Captain, that was Carmilla and no one should ever be associated with her reign no matter how much he protested.) rather than their entries into orphanhood.

But first. Lily was upset and it was an upset she unfortunately knew far too well.

“ Сладости , Lily, look at me.”

The child reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Nastya’s.

“We have talked about this before, what you did, hiding in the vents was not only good but it was the right thing to do, your parents put you there for a reason, they wanted you to survive.”

“But, but—”

“No, no if’s or buts.” Interupted Nastya in her best, ‘Jonny-I-am-not-accepting-a-single-word-of-your-nonsense-right-now’ voice, “Knowing what you know now about guns and ballistics from Tim do you think you could have stopped them?”

“No.” Lily conceded, wilting a little.

“Do you think, knowing what you do now about piloting, angles and speeds from Brian you or anyone on your crew could have got the ship away from the raiders in time?”

“No.” she shrank a little further.

“Do you think, knowing what you know now about hull integrity from Aurora and I that could have found a way of stopping them before they breached your ship?”

“No.” She curled up closer to Nastya as the facts rolled over her. Nastya found herself rubbing the child’s back consolingly, being told you’re wrong is always hard, even if it’s for your own good in the long run and she was still small and Nastya wasn’t beyond giving comfort when it was needed.

“So I don’t see what the problem is Lily, there was nothing you could have done. It took a lot of courage just to stay alive in the aftermath long enough for us to find you. You were incredibly brave.”

“But they don’t believe me.” Lily all but whispered.

“Who don’t?”

“My crew, my old crew, they’re in my nightmares, they blame me for not helping, that I shouldn’t have left them. That I’ve betrayed them by coming to live with you all.”

A stream of creative Cyberian cursing torrented across her brain. Nastya took a deep breath and continued to curse Jonny for not being here with her for this. She didn’t want to talk about this, had avoided it for a very long time.

“I felt the same way.” She admitted in as firm a voice as she could manage.

Lily perked up immediately, sitting up to face Nastya, “You did?”

“Yes. Where I am from, there was an uprising. My, my father was not a kind man and he had responsibility over a lot of people. He didn’t treat them well and eventually they realised there were more of them than the people in charge. They attacked our home, they wanted to kill us all. I saw them murder my brothers, my mother and my father and all the people who’d surrounded me since birth. I was older than you, I was 19 at the time but I was so scared Lily, I ran, I got attacked by someone who I thought cared about me. I killed him in self-defence but it broke my heart, he wounded me very badly. After Jonny rescued me I saw their faces in my dreams night after night, accusing me of being a coward, that I should have died with my family.”

Nastya paused trying to gather the right words to try and get across in the simplest terms she could.

“And you know what?” she continued.

“What?”

“That was my mind lying to me.” And oh, didn’t that feel good to say out loud? Nasyta hadn’t realised she needed this for herself even after centuries and continued with more emphasis.

“My mind was lying to me,” she expanded, “it was the guilt talking, nothing more. Guilt is a natural emotion in events like these, you want to help people you care about but sometimes there is absolutely nothing you can do, no matter how much you wish it. You can tie yourself up in knots about it, you can tear yourself apart over it but it doesn’t matter. You won’t change what happened.”

Nastya raised a hand carefully and after hesitating a moment, carded her hand gently through Lily’s wild and sleep-mussed hair. It was approaching her shoulders now, as she’d pointed out proudly every so often because she was trying to grow it as long as Raphaella’s.

“Lily, I need you to listen very carefully to me.” The little girl fixed Nastya with her huge blue eyes. “Those things you see in your dreams, they’re not your friends, they’re not your family. They are lies. You feel guilty and that’s normal, that’s alright, but you can’t let it rule you, you can’t let their lies in. Your mother and father wanted you to live, they wanted you to live with every fibre of their beings because if they didn’t they would have held you close when the raiders came. You need to understand the hardest thing a parent can do is to push away their child to protect them. They knew how dangerous the situation was, they knew they might not survive and to increases your chances of survival the best thing they could do would be to put you out of harm’s way to and hope it was enough.”

Lily shuffled, looking down as she sniffed. Nastya gave her a moment then tilted her little face back up to hers, she needed to take this all in.

“And it was.” Stated Nastya.

“Because you were clever and you were brave, you stayed still and silent and stayed alive. You gave them no cause to search the vents. You did want your parents wanted. You survived.”

The engineer gently wiped away some of the escaping tears.

“You survived long enough for us to find you. Do you really think your parents would want you to stay on your ship when you could leave with us?”

Lily sniffed again, thinking about the cold, dark awfulness of her ship that slowly been smelling worse and worse and bit by bit falling apart.

“No.” She realised, “No they’d want me safe and warm and with nice, kind people like you all.”

Nastya didn’t think she’d ever get used to hearing herself and her crew described as ‘nice’ or ‘kind’ without a shred of sarcasm.

“Exactly. You made the right choice in coming with us.” Actually, thinking about it, Lily didn’t so much as have a choice as ‘clung to Jonny and didn’t let go when he carried her onto Aurora’ Hmm. Well, semantics at this point.

Nastya paused to look at Lily, really look at her, doubt creeping in because they’d assumed a lot with Lily and she’d seemingly just rolled with it, “Are you happy with us Lily?”

Genuine shock bloomed across the child’s face as her eyes grew round in consternation, “What? Happy? Of COURSE I’m happy with you! You’re all so nice and kind and cuddly and you look after me and don’t ever tell me I’m small or silly and you let me do big important things! I’ve got a proper job here! I cook for you and you all spend time with me and teach me things and play with me and listen to me and there’s no fighting over things like food and you always make sure I’ve got enough. More than enough.”

Well fuck.

She was going to have to feed this all back to Jonny wasn’t she?

Nastya privately was rather pleased Lily’s crew had no further claim on her, they were ill-prepared, ill-equipped, and obviously ill-suited to manage the prospect of a pioneer mission when it came to their most precious consignments. Maybe not her parents but still. From between her own and Ivy’s observations from the ship and the black box they would never have made it to their chosen destination. There were other ships as part of the mission but the black box recorded having lost them years previously, their engines had been damaged and they fell behind and never caught up.

And Lily had clearly been given the impression she was bother, she was tiresome and she was constantly in the way by the other adults in her life.

Never would Nastya have thought that the Mechanisms would make better care-givers than literally any other sentient being but apparently the universe was still full of surprises.

“That’s good, I’m very glad to hear it. Do you understand why I asked you that?”

Lily thought it over. “Because, because, I needed to think about all the good things here. About how happy you all make me and how sad I’d be if I stayed behind.”

Thank fuck she was an intelligent and perceptive child.

“And what do you think your mother and father would want for you?” pressed Nastya, determined to get this concept across to Lily, she didn’t deserve to have that sort of unwarranted guilt resting on her small shoulders.

“To be happy. And safe. And feel like I belong.” She stated immediately with absolutely surety.

The words sunk in.

“Oh.”

“Exactly. They would be very pleased you’ve found yourself a group of people who care about your well-being.” She took a deep breath, she wasn’t given to sharing her emotions freely with anyone but Aurora, and Jonny if really needed but Lily was a special case. “And we do Lily, very much so, you’re very important to all of us. We want you to be safe and well with us, even if we’re not always sure what to do or say, we do care about you.”

Lily gazed at Nastya with all the sincerity of an eight year old.

“I know. From the first night and you all hugged me even though Marius and Tim came back and some of you don’t really like hugs but you hugged me anyway because I was scared and I was sad and you didn’t have to. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome Сладости .”

“Can I hug you now please?”

“Yes.”

Lily carefully wrapped her arms around the engineer, taking in her scent of oil, grease and delicate musk. She didn’t get to hug Nastya often so she cherished it. “I knew you were kind, you cuddle even when it’s not your favourite thing.”

“Well I know what it’s like to feel alone, I didn’t want you to feel like that.”

“But you have the crew and Aurora?”

“Not when I first joined, it was just Jonny and I.” Nastya was trying to edge carefully along the level detail she could share, they’d not talked to her about their mechanisms yet, or how they’d come to all be together on Aurora. It wasn’t her story to tell alone. That would be an all or nothing tale she felt.

“And Aurora?”

“And Aurora,” the engineer latched eagerly onto that as a conversation avenue, “it took me a while to learn how to listen to her before we could truly understand one another.”

“I think I hear her singing to me sometimes, it sounds different to when she’s talking to me.”

“That’s because you’re a clever girl and you listen well. Yes, Aurora is singing to you.”

“She always sounds so pretty.”

“Yes she does, she’s beautiful.”

“Have you always been in love with her?”

Wasn’t that a question, of course Nastya loved Aurora, she had for the longest time, her hums were comforting, warming her to her core. Being Cyberian and Aurora being a cyberian ship she could speak with Aurora from the first days, translating for Jonny when he asked or it was particularly pertinent. She and Aurora understood each other far deeper than words anyway, she was what filled her thoughts, gave her purpose and flooded her soul with warmth. “For a very long time, yes. She was very kind and comforting when I was first on board, I was very scared and lost even with Jonny to keep me company.”

“He’s good at that.”

“Yes he is.”

“But Aurora loved you? Right at the beginning? Was it love at first sight? Like in my books?”

It was sweet that Lily still thought like that when the universe was rarely so forgiving or amenable, “Not quite at first sight, I think love is something that builds up over time, but I believe we mutually fell in love, I with her kindness, her warmth and her spectacular grandeur.”

“And Aurora?” The child looked up at the panelling.

There was a deep and resonant humming that broke out around them.

Nastya allowed her fondest smile to spread over her face, “Thank you my love, she said that she fell involve with my music, with my hands and how I use them work my violin and my tools to keep her in good repair, she says she loves how I listen, how I touch and how I care about things.”

Lily was enraptured, “I bet she thinks you’re just as beautiful as you think she is.”

Silver flushed Nastya’s cheeks, “That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s true, you have such nice eyes that really smile when you see something you like or Aurora says something secret to you.”

Aurora hummed in agreement.

“See! I know that means she thinks I’m right!” The little girl beamed.

It was something Nastya was very grateful for that the child was just willing to accept things, for Lily, Aurora was another adult to listen to and very much a person in her own right. It was refreshing to just be accepted without shred of confusion.

“Quite right indeed.”

“Does Aurora sing a lot to you?”

“Yes she does, she has a beautiful set of sounds.”

“Would she sing now?”

“You’d have to ask her.”

“Aurora? Would you sing a song please? You always sound so pretty.”

Well how could she refuse a request like that?

Aurora began to sing, this time a favourite of her love, soft and gentle, reverberating sonorously through her wiring and her metalwork.

Lily was mesmerised. She leaned back against Nastya chest, soothed by both the song and the rhythmic sound of the engineer’s heartbeat.

The weight against Nastya’s chest grew heavier and heavier until the sound of tiny snoring emanated from her ribcage.

She sighed internally, she should have known this, Raphaella had told her how quickly Lily could fall asleep and now she couldn’t move for fear of waking her. Still, it wasn’t too bad, Lily was a little radiator and it was strangely peaceful to be the source of comfort for such a vulnerable being, a little girl that despite everything they seemed to be managing to raise to an acceptable standard. The child was happy, was building up her strength and general health now she had a proper balanced diet and obviously felt comfortable enough with all of them to come to them when needing comfort and reassurance as much as when she wanted to play or help with something. And that she’d managed to comfort Lily when it was clearly something serious bothering her was something Nastya was quietly proud of and more than a little relieved that it had obviously worked. She was rarely counselled for advice beyond Jonny and that was because he didn’t mind sharing his vulnerable side to her, she’d seen him sobbing and bloody and terrified enough to not be deterred by his defensive walls. Nor did he really try. But to help Lily? To reason well with a child? It was very new territory but one, on reflection, she found she didn’t dislike.

Now she’d calmed down herself, soothed by the sleeping breaths of the child she remembered to be furious with Jonny for leaving her in this situation in the first place.

Aurora noticed the hitch in her love’s breath and the flaring of her nostrils.

She interpreted correctly, humming a question.

Nastya Nodded.

Aurora pinged a message to Jonny, now that the situation he was in had been resolved, to come and collect Lily.

Jonny waltzed in roughly twenty minutes later reeking more pungently of whiskey than normal, a sloppy, sappy smile plastered across his face that spread even wider at the sight of his sister gently rocking the sleeping form of the child he was more than a little fond of.

The engineer on seeing him went from peaceful to furious in roughly half a second.

“Just where the fuck have you been?!” Hissed Nastya, “Lily has been having breakdown over her nightmares conjuring her dead parents and crew mates to chastise her for leaving them and having the audacity to survive.”

All the drunkenness drained out of Jonny along with his colouring.

“FUCK.” Sobriety hit him like a particularly colourful train, “Is she okay? She’s not had an accusing nightmare for a while.”

“ Oh you knew about these?” if anything Nastya’s fury deepened.

Jonny was aware of the danger in her voice but ploughed on regardless, “I mean, yes, she tells me all her nightmares most of them are just banging noises in the dark.”

“But sometimes she nightmares about her dead parents blaming her for their deaths?”

“Sometimes?” Now Jonny thought about it, had it been more frequent, more recently?

“You BASTARD.” It was impressive how much fury Nastya could convey in a whisper, “Why haven’t you told the rest of us?”

Jonny immediately puffed up his chest in defence, “Because it’s her nightmares, not mine to share and it’s personal.” He hissed back.

“Jonny she is EIGHT. This is serious stuff that does need sharing. And to dump it on the rest of us un-warned isn’t fair.”

“I’ve told you the important stuff, she deserves her privacy as much as the rest of us.”

“Jonny she is eight, not an adult, whilst it is commendable you respect her privacy there are some things that need to be shared with the rest of us, important things. Like this. THIS is important!”

“It’s just a progression, Marius says—”

“Fuck what Marius says, this was important and she needs to be reassured properly not just have me wing it and hope for the best.”

Jonny grinned ruefully, “Welcome to my world, it’s a bitch isn’t it?”

“No, I, she deserves better than that,” the engineer trailed off.

Jonny paused to really look at Nastya, realisation dawned, taking in the paler-than-usual complexion and gentle, almost imperceptive trembling, “what’s wrong?”

“I, she, the palace, it’s similar enough, it, brought up some memories I’d rather forget.”

Everything clicked into place, Jonny looked horrified, immediately contrite, this was a BIG deal for Nastya after all and she hated being reminded of that time, “Fuck I’m sorry I should have—”

Nastya was touched at his concern, it helped to calm her enough to start to regain her composure, “Actually, it was quite helpful really, I realised a few things I needed to put to bed and I think I was the voice I needed to hear when Lily’s situation was as fresh for me.”

Jonny reached out and gently squeezed her hand in sympathy.

“Are, are you both alright? For now?”

“I believe so. I managed to convince Lily the words and the people who spoke them were just manifestation of guilt. Nothing more. That she did the right thing in joining us.”

“She was questioning that?!”

“Subconsciously. I think because she is growing more at ease here. More comfortable and settled.”

“That’s good right?”

“Yes, but it comes with consequences, namely questioning her loyalties to those she’s known all her life and those whom she’s only known for the past four and a half months

“Well her people are dead, there’s not much choice there.”

Nasyta closed her eyes, “Please tell me you’ve not put it to her like that.”

“Of course I fucking haven’t what do you take me for?” Jonny paused, his eyes narrowing, “Do not answer that. I just tell her that her brain is lying to her because brains don’t always get things right.”

“Huh, I said something similar.”

He grinned at their similarities, there was reason people assumed they were siblings more often as not.

She shared the smiled, pleased to have settled the matter and felt more at peace with herself than she had for a while, “Anyway, where have you been all evening that Aurora led her to me?”

Jonny immediately shifted, looking awkward and closed off, “Oh, uh, nowhere.”

Nastya cocked a single eyebrow, “Jonny. For an excellent liar this is a piss poor effort.”

“Fine I was having a discussion.”

“With?” she prompted, apparently he was determined to be difficult.

“With Tim.”

“If you have broken any more of her panelling I will gut you right here.”

“No, it was civilised thank you very much.”

“I do not believe it.”

“Well we did. Go look for yourself.”

“What could you have possibly been discussing that was reasonable?”

“I, well, he, we—”

“Spit it out.”

“Fine we were discussing how he came to join the crew and the misunderstandings about it. Happy?”

Nastya froze. That was something that Jonny had tried to do not too long after Tim had joined them and got the hang of his new vision. It had not gone well. As it was Brian and Ivy had killed the pair of them and locked them in their respective bedrooms till they calmed down. Things had escalated. Badly. Threatening-an-actual-hull-breach badly.

Nastya hadn’t spoken to Jonny for a month.

Then he’d come stomping down to find her to give her as much of an apology he could give her and then proceeded to rant and rave until she’d slapped him silent. Nastya was not given to laying hands on people, she didn’t like it. But Jonny had been revving up again and that was not explaining the situation.

As it was it shocked him enough to explain himself properly. He was devastated that Tim blamed him, that he’d tried (albeit very clumsily, Jonny, for all he was a gifted wordsmith for stories struggled when orating things related to him and his own, more complex emotions) to explain that none of what happened was his choice. He wanted Tim to have his ending. That Carmilla hadn’t listened, had killed him and locked him away. By the Jonny broke out it was too late.

Carmilla had her accident not long after.

“Are you alright?”

The bluntness had the effect as the slap several centuries ago and shocked the truth out of him once again.

“Better than I thought I’d be.”

“What happened?”

Jonny took a breath, wanting, needing to share it.

The evening had been normal, less murder-filled since it was getting close to 1am and that was prime Lily nightmare-time. They’d been making cracks at how Lily kept Jonny in better time than their music, a complete lie but intentionally teasing.

Then someone made a crack about newfound responsibility.

And Jonny had responded that he always was responsible, but he just wasn’t appreciated.

Tim had commented that he was only responsible when it suited him with more bite than had been in his voice previously.

Jonny rose to it, snapping that he was always keeping an eye out for the crew.

Tim bit back about only looking out for this crew.

The others went quiet, poised for violence.

Jonny immediately hit back at who the fuck else was he supposed to look out for?

Too late the first mate realised what Tim was getting at, too late he realised that Tim had been cleaning Bertie’s gun, which he only did when he was specifically thinking about the Lunar war and what had happened.

Building the fort with Lily had clearly stirred up memories.

Tim promptly erupted, getting right up in Jonny’s face.

Spewing the words he’d obviously been festering for centuries.

“You only care when it directly relates to you selfish bastard! If Lily had latched on to anyone else you’d have been the first to say we dump her! It’s only when you have a benefit out of it! So don’t you dare try to pretend you actually give a fuck about any of us, it’s just that we all can’t really leave, not permanently, so we have to endure each other!”

“Don’t you DARE talk about Lily like that, she’s as much your kid as she is mine or anyone else’s! It was you she spent the best part of the last four days building a fort with, not fucking me! So don’t you dare! I care about all of you ungrateful bastards, I have to ! You’re MY crew.”

Tim punched him square in the jaw.

The Mechanisms didn’t usually resort to physical violence, usually it was just gunshot, immolation or whatever Raphaella had concocted that week.

As such it caught Jonny off guard, forcing him to stagger backwards.

“There! You see! YOUR crew! It’s all about you! We’re our own people. We’re not beholden to you and you’re lying to yourself like always if you think anything different!”

Jonny spat out blood and snarled at Tim through gory teeth, “I don’t mean it like that you wanker! And you know it! I’m not HER!”

“But you helped her!”

The room dropped about 10 degrees.

“What did you say?” Jonny’s voice had gone dangerously quiet. Everyone else in the room tensed to leap into intervene, the last time these two got like this they filled the room with so much gun fire it nearly penetrated the outer hull.

Tim didn’t back down in the face of Jonny’s icy fury, “I said, You. Helped. Her.”

Jonny was suddenly on Tim, fists in his coat and slammed him against the wall, hard enough to make the gunner’s teeth rattle. Jonny might be shorter than Tim but he was strong.

“You take that back you piece of shit.”

“No.” Spat Tim.

Jonny slammed him against the wall again before he held Tim with one hand and the other snatched for his six- shooter . Then he remembered the proximity to Lily-horror-hours and visibly tried to calm down and withdrew his hand from his holster.

Tim followed his movement and stopped in his tracking to do the same. Couldn’t be shooting and waking Lily, kid needed her sleep after all, she’d worked hard building all day.

“Because it’s the truth isn’t it?” He continued, glaring at Jonny, faces barely 6 inches apart, “It wasn’t enough to fuck with me on the moon—”

“I tried to stop him! You KNOW I did!” Exploded Jonny, “I couldn’t get to the grenade in time, I TRIED to out-run him but he was faster and I was still regenerating from the lasers!”

“You should have told us!”

The words knocked the rage right out of him, he let go of Tim, backing away, “Yes.” He conceded, sincerity pouring into his words, “I should have. I’m sorry.”

Tim stared dumbly as Jonny spoke the words he’d wanted to say for over three centuries. Apparently soothing Lily almost every night had given him some practice at actually communicating some emotions.

“I didn’t want Bertie to die.” Now Jonny had said those words he’d apparently broken some sort of dam and the words kept coming, “I didn’t want you to die. I wanted you both to survive the fucking war and go home. You two were the nearest thing I’d had to real friends for CENTURIES. I wanted you both to have a fucking happy ever after for once.”

“Then WHY?!” Tim all but screamed.

“Why did I help her make you into one of us?” Jonny glared at Tim, if there was a sheen to his eyes then he’d deny it for eternity.

“I didn’t.” He let the words hang there for effect before ploughing on.

“I never wanted this for anyone, not one of you fuckers. No one deserves this. No one. I begged her, I fought her, I fought against the bio-programming to try and stop her. She shot me. She shot me so much I woke up locked in a store cupboard a week later and when I finally broke out it was too fucking late.” Jonny sighed, finding himself sadder that he’d allowed himself to feel for a long time, “I’m sorry Tim, really, I never wanted this for you.”

He ran a hand over his face suddenly feeling every single year he’d lived weighing down on him.

The others, having frozen in place, poised to haul them away from each other like they had to do over three centuries ago relaxed, now they’d clearly calmed down a bit, that they’d not drawn weapons and that Jonny fucking apologised .

Well.

Things were obviously going to get all feelingsy and out of a sense of decorum for some and not being drunk enough to deal with another outpouring of emotions for others the crew that had been present quietly left, ignored by the first mate and master-at-arms.

“So that’s it, carry on fucking hating me, that’s fine, don’t break the habit of centuries, it doesn’t matter anyway but don’t you fucking dare think I helped her or had anything to do with it. None of us did. She plucked you from space when she was scooping me and TS up from the debris. Decided to ‘fix’ you up like she did the rest of us poor fuckers. I tried to stop her, tried to deflect, to convince her to let you die but she realised I cared about you. So she did exactly what she wanted. I'm sorry she used you, sorrier than you'll ever fucking know.”

The first mate straightened his back to cover a sniff, “Now if you’re done, I’m going to go check on Lily because I do, in fact, care about her like I care about the rest of you bastards.”

He made to move away. Jonny got three paces before a slender hand gripped his shoulder.

“Jonny.”

The first mate wheeled around.

“What?!”

“I, I didn’t know.” Tim was looking worryingly sincere.

“Clearly.” Jonny didn’t really know what to do with Tim looking like that, like a grown-up version of Lily’s sad-eyes, eyes that were his natural colour, not focused on anything but him.

“I wish I did know.”

Oh fuck, Jonny was really not prepared for more emotion right now, “Well you do now.”

“I mean sooner.” Pressed Tim.

Jonny huffed, the resignation stealing most of the bite from his words, “I tried to tell you. I tried to tell you when you first made it out of the lab just after Carmilla had her accident.”

Tim did a genuine double take, “That was you telling me?!”

That riled him, “Fuck off Tim!” He snapped, “I tried! You started yelling, I started yelling, we started shooting, next thing I remember waking up locked in my bunk.”

“Me too.” Surprisingly Tim didn’t rise to the heat in Jonny’s explosion instead he looked like he might be feeling a stab of regret.

“I also remember you shooting me in the face for the next five years whenever you saw me.” Emphasised the first mate.

“I did.” Tim agreed

“And?” Prompted Jonny, his heartbeat beginning to pound in his ears, hoping he’d not mis-judged this, he was still angry and he was damn well going to voice it but he did want this to be resolved. He liked Tim despite all the relentless violence. He liked their competitions. He’d not taken to someone so quickly since Nastya and Tim (and Bertie for that matter) had been mortal. He’d liked them both. He had wanted them to be alright. If he was honest with himself he wanted to have that tunnels friendship again, he’d wanted a brother growing up almost as much as a sister and privately he wouldn’t have minded if that brother had been someone like Tim. It was fine if their relationship was going to stay the way it was, it had been that way for three and half centuries, it didn’t need to change, didn’t have to. But it would be nice if it could.

Tim sighed, then fixed his stare on Jonny, utterly serious even if it looked like it was paining him to admit, “And if I’d known then I wouldn’t have.”

That was as good as an apology he’d ever expected from Tim, “Alright then.”

“Jonny—”

“What Tim? What?” This was far more emotion that Jonny was really able to deal with in one evening, “I’ve said my piece, I should have said it years ago, I should have tried again before now, I didn’t. I’m sorry for that but I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“Thank you.” It looked both painful and alien for the words to cross his lips but the master-at-arms said them all the same. “I’m, I’m, I’m sorry I thought you’d been involved.” For the first time in years Tim actually looked awkward.

“Good.” Jonny had no framework of reference for this, the last time they’d been this honest and open was in the tunnels before Bertie died and most of that was now a purposely hazy memory. “I, er, I’m sorry I gave you that impression.” He offered, hoping that was the right thing to say.

“Do you—” Tim hesitated.

“Do I what?” Jonny have never quite understood the phrase walking on eggshells until that exact moment thought it was more like breathing around eggshells. He felt horribly powerless that the next thing out of Tim’s mouth might dictate how they interacted for the next ever.

“Do you want to get very drunk and accept that this happened and we’re alright but we never have to talk about it again?”

Jonny breathed a huge sigh of relief, “Fucking YES.” He began to grin before a thought caught him, “Wait, Lily, I’ve got to—”

A screen descended from the ceiling.

‘If you are seeking Lily Jonny, she is safe with Nastya next to the engine room. They’re both in deep conversation and are fine, I will notify you when you need to take her to bed.’

Well it was nice that Aurora acknowledged that there was no way Lily was moving off from Nastya once there, the child was like a limpet and once comforted it was like she had an off switch that just flicked the second she was feeling safe and secure again.

He felt bad he’d missed her getting up but this really needed to be said and he was glad they’d had the chance to finally clear things up between them. It had only been several centuries in the reckoning.

Still, if she was still talking to Nastya then that gave him and Tim at least an hour. No point disturbing her when she’d just fallen asleep after all. Plus, it was good she was talking to Nastya, she needed to talk to the engineer more, Lily spent the least amount of time with Nastya so it was nice she was there. And he really wanted to drink with Tim, it had been a long time when it was just them and the air actually felt clear. Ironically it was in the gas-filled tunnels.

The two men read the notice and shared a look.

“Whiskey?”

“Whiskey.”

He was grateful that whilst he wasn’t drinking to his previous capacity he could still drink Tim under the table.

Which was why when Aurora summoned him later into the night he still had enough nouse about him to be able to ease Tim back against the sofa and cover him with his great coat that he’d shucked earlier and make his way down to where his sister and charge were waiting without too much stumbling.

“So you and Tim have made up?”

Jonny grimaced, “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like we’ve had some sort of lover’s tiff.”

“Well…”

Jonny’s face morphed in a deep scowl, “Fuck off Nastya. You two are the only couple here and you know this needed sorting for years.”

The engineer sombered, she did in fact know, knew how much it had eaten at Jonny over the years on top of everything else till he grew cold and indifferent, thinking it one last curse from Carmilla to endure.

“It did, you’re right, and I’m glad. Really. For you and Tim. And Aurora that there’ll be less damage inflicted by the pair of you.”

“I make no promises.”

“You will not like the consequences.” promised the engineer.

Jonny smirked, “No but I enjoy the challenge.”

“You are such a bastard.”

“Always,” he agreed easily, “you love me anyway.”

Nastya rolled her eyes and huffed, looking thoroughly unimpressed, “You are a blight on my life and I despise everything you stand for.”

His smirk deepened, “I know, I know,” before he allowed the soft smile he saved for Nastya and more recently Lily to bloom across his face instead as he stepped carefully into Nastya’s space and pressed a gentle kiss to her head, leaning against her wrapping his arms around her, lending yet more warmth to her.

“Thanks for looking after her.” He mumbled against her hair.

“Well, she’s as much my responsibility as yours to care for.” Admitted Nastya, allowing the affection she felt for Lily flow through her, feeling far more connected now than she ever had before. She squeezed his hand, enjoying the tenderness. It was still quite rare between them, especially in the last few centuries, and it had been an emotional night for them all.

Aurora continued to sing, low and warm and loving as the siblings and their child just breathed together and were.

#the mechanisms #nastya rasputina #lily of many names #jonny d'ville #Night Terrors #Chapter 8 #Soft!Mechs #found family #soft!Jonny D'Ville

31 notes · View notes

incoherentbabblings · 4 years

Text

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (7/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Ao3 Link Here!

“Hey…” Tim said, still lying on the floor.

“Dude!” Conner’s voice came through, exuberant. “Bart you were right! He did answer!”

Bart’s high-pitched giggle ran straight through Tim’s bones. It cut off abruptly as he processed Conner’s incredulity.

“Why do you guys always think my plans are bad?”

“Shush.” Cassie’s voice also drifted in. Tim must have been on speakerphone. “Tim… what is going on? Like… is this for real?”

“No way.” Said Conner. “You would have told us. It’s gotta be fake. Weird fake, but fake.”

“…It’s not fake.”

“Pardon?” Bart asked, being awfully polite. “Why didn’t you keep us in the loop? Or are you channeling Batman this month?”

“It had to be real. Like super real. No heroes, no nothing.”

“Bullshit, Tim.” Conner’s tone was fond, but a little exasperated. “Kara’s been on my ass about it too. Some of us have secret ids yaknow. No metas in Gotham rule aside, we could help?”

“I mean… it’s complicated. There’s a bunch of murders recently.”

Cassie sounded worried. “We saw the news the other day. You and Stephanie were shot at?”

“…Yeah. Someone’s targeting brides who wear this designer. Steph and I were trying to make ourselves the next pair on the list… the guy botched it and shot Bishop Sherborne.”

“So… once Batman catches Mr Always the Bridesmaid Never the Bride… then what?” Asked Conner. “No more wedding, I guess. Which – yikes – bud. I’ve seen the stuff online. Some people are being brutal about this whole thing. You have too many fake engagements people aren’t gonna believe a real one after that.”

Cassie piped up again. “Not to mention Steph is gonna be thrown into limbo, right?”

Tim was silent as he listened to his friends. He couldn’t explain. This is why he didn’t tell them. They weren’t doing it intentionally, but they were setting off all his alarm bells. It seemed Bart heard something in the silence that the others did not, and asked, more than a little befuddled,

“Wait… you and Steph aren’t together together for reals are you? ‘Cause, you really should have told us! Like no bachelor party? Really? No me as your best man?”

Conner sounded very affronted when he cut in, “Eh. No. That’s me.”

“You can have a girl as your best man right?” Cassie pondered. “Nowadays? I’d be good at that…”

Tim rolled onto his front, utterly depressed. “I don’t know. Know what I wanted… Know what Steph wants…”

It seemed Tim’s sadness finally clicked in the minds of his friends, and Conner lowered his tone.

“You getting your heart broken bud?”

Tim’s eyes grew wet. “I can’t help her.”

“Help her how?”

Cassie began to shoo the other two away. “Let me speak to him. One to one.”

“I can still hear the phone you know.”

“Shut up, Conner. I don’t want you and Bart butting in.”

“Rude.” Bart chirped, but did as he was told. There was shuffling, and the sound of someone being kicked, but soon enough it was just Cassie on the other side of the phone.

“Can’t help her how?” She repeated Conner’s statement, and Tim heard him huff in the distance.

“We… we both want to be together.”

“That’s…that’s good Tim. Right? So, what’s the issue?”

Tim sneered. She wasn’t making it sound good. They just wouldn’t understand, but Tim continued to try.

“But she… I thought she was in a better place. I thought I was in a better place. But the stress is getting to her. She’s tired of being judged. And that’s all I can offer her.”

Cassie was quiet but full of conviction when she responded, “I don’t believe that.”

“No but…Cassie I’ve never seen her like this. Like she’s three steps away from jumping out the window. And that’s supposed to be me. I don’t know how to show her, that she doesn’t need to be frightened. That other people don’t matter. People just aren’t coming on side, not entirely. Not even her helping Bishop Sherborne when he died was enough. And she’s losing her drive.”

“Could you…” She mused it over. “Have you got an event coming up?”

“The engagement party.”

“No, no. Something smaller. Something about your job. Something you could share with her. Show her she doesn’t need to be afraid to share a life with you. Start small to build back up confidence. Steph’s…she’s a little rough round the edges.”

“She’s from Gotham.”

“Exactly. But the more she does that sort of stuff with you, the more people will get to know her and that squidgy centre you talk about. I mean those engagement photos were beautiful.” Tim burned red. Of course, they had seen them. “And I want her red dress more than life itself, but that’s not her. Not you really either. You both do stuff outside of nightwork… do that stuff together y’know?”

Stephanie had asked him about his work. She had asked several times in fact. She had been on multiple visits to his office, watching as he went through conference calls, reports and other dry white-collar work whilst she sat with her college notes spread around her. She herself had said she was interested in what he did. Tim blinked, a plan coming together.

“…Thank you, Cassie.”

“My pleasure.” She said, sounding smug. “Is she there with you now?”

“No… we… we had an argument. She’s gone to cool off on patrol.”

Conner pinched the phone then. “Not to sound judgy, but man… she’s got a temper. And you said when she gets angry, she gets stupid.”

Defensiveness replaced depression, and Tim’s tone became a warning. “Conner.”

“I’m just saying. Think you should go find her.”

“She’s competent Kon.”

“…Sure.”

It was very difficult to not take an imagined slight to Stephanie as a slight against himself. “What’s that mean?”

“Listen, dude—”

A frantic beeping from his phone interrupted Conner. It was the distress signal of Batgirl, one that she did not ring often, or ever, and Tim’s heart stopped.

No. No. No.

“Have to go.”

“Wait –”

“It’ll be over in two weeks so bear with the radio silence.”

“Huh? Dude don’t shut us out after –”

“Bye.”

And he hung up, then rushed downstairs.

**********************************************************************

She had fallen, because if Stephanie suspected of how she would die, it would be from gravity being a bitch. Some bastard had shot at her, she had jumped to avoid it, then collapsed through the roof – rotten wooden beams giving way under her weight. She had crashed down with a horrendous smack, and likely had a concussion. Her neck had snapped in such a way that left her terrified to move her head. Her leg felt damp. Struggling, she pressed her little beacon. Someone would be on their way soon. Outside the building, she heard that man whooping in victory, trying to figure out a way in.

She was in over her head. She wasn’t paying attention. And now she was in agony on the dirty floor of some shithole in Gotham, a murderous drug lord wanting a piece of her.

Wow, she really was spiralling down.

And somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to blame Tim. He hadn’t caused these issues. He’d been honest with her, given her multiple opportunities to back out. And she had hurt him, in every manner of speaking. Even if he had been putting her under pressure… she didn’t…

She didn’t even blame Bruce, who was only trying to protect people, and entrusting his family to help him do so.

Her issues were hers and hers alone. Maybe she’d never really dealt with them, maybe she’d never really worked her way through them. Maybe she just buried it all. Ignore it, and it will go away.

She wasn’t sure how long she was left alone on the floor, safe from the man outside, but however long it was, it wasn’t enough for her to get back on her feet. Her head lolled on the ground, and she tried to push herself up. Keep moving, that’s all she had to do. She’d been through worse and coped. She only managed to get onto her hands and knees when someone grabbed her blonde hair and ripped her back, making her cry out in shock. Her neck clicked oddly. Her left leg limply dragged across the floor, leaving red streaks behind her, whilst the right spasmed, trying to get a footing so she could kick herself upright and punch the bastard, but her head injury was disorientating her beyond being of any use.

“Can’t believe it’s that easy to take out one of you lot.” The cold feel of a pistol pressed against her jaw. If fired, it wouldn’t kill her immediately. This guy wanted her to hurt.

No. She had to apologise to Tim. She had to… She had too…

She had no time to prepare a snarky comeback, because one of the family’s hook shots had rammed itself into the guys arm. He shrieked, hand dropping the gun and her hair, allowing her to roll away into the corner to get a better look at her leg.

She looked up, to see Tim, fully dressed as Red Robin amongst the rotting rafters, angrier than she had seen him in a long time.

She got caught between sharp relief and guilt. Tim had come for her. Dutiful, loyal, Tim.

Letting her head thump against the floor, Stephanie flittered in and out of consciousness.

Tim, meanwhile, had lost his temper.

He knew he was a bit overprotective of Steph. He also knew she was competent. She had been through a lot with and without him, and as Batgirl had saved Gotham multiple times over. He wasn’t a white knight coming to rescue the damsel, but something feral would be set off seeing her in danger. Didn’t matter if he was fifteen or twenty, someone hurting her, someone touching her, was enough to set him off.

It wasn’t like with Captain Boomerang, where everything was calculated, cold and methodical. Steph was hurt, Tim had the means to make the man who did it hurt.

And hurt him Tim did.

Stephanie watched most of it, not really in the right frame of mind to do anything but watch. She wanted to call for him, pull him back to her. But then she would black out for a moment. When she would reawaken, any chance at orientating herself would be lost from the view in front of her.

Bones were meant to be inside limbs, right?

Tim’s torture continued until Dick yoinked him away.

“That’s enough. Okay? Don’t make the same mistake as me.”

Dick was home? The thought was enough to cause the red to fade, and for Tim to start to catch his breath. His stomach began to drop. He’d done something stupid?

No. Where was Stephanie?

Nightwing had him held in such a grip that was designed to allow Tim to break out if he wanted, but also jolt into him some semblance of what he was doing.

Tim blinked, then wriggled out of Nightwing’s hold. His brother looked more than a little white at the scene before him. Tim’s chest was heaving, and he could feel sweat dripping off his chin. Slowly he turned to see what damage he had done, then immediately looked away. He had done something stupid. And potentially murderous. For her. Again.

Stephanie had somehow pulled herself into a sitting position, one leg laying limply at an angle. She was breathing heavily, trying to control her body’s response to the pain. Her head was tilted, resting on her shoulder, as if it was too heavy for her neck to support.

“Batgirl…” And then Tim was at her side, looking for the injury in her leg. She hissed when he got close, but from what he could see, there was no fracture, only a puncture wound.

“Landed on the crates. Mother of all splinters..!” She felt her eyes rolling around, vision a blur, and grunted to herself. Play it off. It’s not serious. She hadn’t messed up. Not really, not as bad as before.

Her tone was deliberately light, but Tim couldn’t bring himself to smile. He had realised that his hands were wet and didn’t want to pick her up if he was going to smear her in more blood.

“I’m sorry.” She said, taking Tim away from his brooding. “I hit you. I shouldn’t have.” She looked like she was going to start crying, the pain in her leg and head coupled with the guilt seemingly too much. “I don’t want to hurt you and I did. I’m sorry.”

Tim wanted very much to pull back her cowl and stroke her hair, but restrained himself.

“I shouldn’t have grabbed you the way I did.”

“No but –”

He shushed her and she whimpered. Shamefully, he gripped and wiped his hands on his cape, trying to make himself somewhat presentable, then very carefully, very gently, picked her up in a bridal hold. She cried out but reached up to wrap her arms around him.

Nightwing called both the police and an ambulance, staring at the dying man on the floor. Dick couldn’t do anything to help him, too many broken bones to even move him safely.

Tim watched Dick’s face grow cold.

“I’ll take her back to my apartment.” Tim said.

“No, you will not.”

Tim’s temper spiked again, though holding Stephanie he was unable to act on it as he would have liked. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

The signature sound of Batman’s cape fluttering, and the distant noise of sirens approaching, made the potential argument end.

“Nightwing, drive them both back to the Manor. Have Batgirl checked over.”

There was something very odd in Bruce’s tone that Tim wasn’t used to hearing, but it made him a little frightened.

“As said injured party member…” Chirped Stephanie, head craned back and straining her neck. “I feel like… I need a medical.”

“Hurry up!” Nightwing ordered, making his way to the batmobile. “You can drive my cycle but put Batgirl in the back.”

Four hours later, out of her costume and several stitches in her leg from where she had received the mother of all splinters, Stephanie’s head began to clear. She remembered Tim swooping down, and she remembered him hurting that man. Badly. Really badly. All because she lost her footing. All because she was in the wrong headspace to go out on patrol.

She was better than that. She knew she was.

She stayed silent, but when Tim returned to her side, the two stared at each other for the longest time. Neither knew where to begin.

Bruce started it for them.

“Do I even need to say what went wrong tonight.” There was no question in his tone. Just a flat, tightly bound anger that Stephanie nearly whimpered at the sound of. She shook her head.

“I messed up. I let my emotions get in the way and I got hurt when it was easily avoidable.”

If Bruce was impressed by her self-awareness, it did not show. He turned to Tim. “And you?”

Tim said nothing. Only glared. Stephanie pressed her hands to her eyes, she wouldn’t be able to block out the sound of the oncoming argument, an argument that was her fault, but that didn’t mean she was going to watch it.

“Tim.” Bruce pushed.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Nightwing, who had been sat a little back from the whole scene, piped up. “You know that’s a sack of bullshit Tim.”

Tim’s ears burned red, and Bruce didn’t miss the look of betrayal on Tim’s face at his brother. Seemed like that look was all Bruce was seeing recently.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Tim repeated.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“This is just one more thing in a continuing dangerous trend with you and I have half a mind to –”

“I don’t answer to you anymore!” Tim was turning as red as his uniform, but Bruce would not be moved.

“You’re both grounded until the wedding is finished.”

Ordinarily, Stephanie would have fought back. Bruce was not the boss of her. Even Babs barely counted as a mentor anymore. Not really. She was her own keeper, and Bruce attempting to parent her was just an embarrassing effort at best.

Now, with her hands pressed over her eyes, blind to anyone’s expressions, she nodded her consent.

“Promise.” She warbled.

Tim on the other hand, was in the mood to fight. He was so wound up from the day’s events, with no outlet, that it poured out of him defiantly. His voice cracked childishly.

“No! No, no! She didn’t do anything wrong and her injury isn’t even that bad!”

Dick watched Tim grow increasingly frustrated and frowned. What the hell had he missed the past six weeks? Bruce was going to return in kind with an equal aggression that would only serve to blow the roof off the cave, so Dick decided it was his turn to intervene. He got up and shoved past Bruce, physically grappling Tim and dragging him away from Stephanie. Bruce could cool down for a moment and talk to the crying girl. He’d try to give Tim a reality check.

When they reached the stairs, Tim wriggled out of Dick’s grip, eyes still on Stephanie, but his anger was directed straight at Dick.

“What do you think you’re—”

Dick grabbed Tim’s arm again, shaking him, making Tim look at him. “I think Tim, you’ll be needed to look after Steph. Yeah?”

“I don’t need to be grounded to do that. I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m not being punished for something I didn’t do!” Tim protested, tugging back to remove Dick’s hand from his arm. Dick huffed, feeling Tim was letting his ego get in the way of the point he was trying to make.

“I really don’t care about that. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re both off kilter. Take a break. Look after each other.”

“I am not –”

“Tim look at her!” Dick hissed. Bruce had moved over to Steph’s side, and sat next to her. Tim watched as the two talked.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, voice somewhat softer.

“I… I’m having a bit of a freak out at the moment.” It was an odd thing for her to confess to Bruce of all people, but he seemed to be listening. “The whole… pretending to be in love mission is throwing me off more than I thought it would.”

“Pretending?”

“Oh God…” She moaned. Where did Bruce get off sounding so confused? What did he even think of her and Tim as a couple? Were they that transparent in their pining? “I’m finding it emotionally taxing.”

Always easier to be flippant. Say exactly what you mean, but hide it under a layer of sarcasm as a back door exit in case the sincerity of the statement was called into doubt. Bruce did not doubt her. Instead, he asked her something else.

“Can you keep going?”

“I swore to.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Then Bruce leaned forward, grabbing her wrist. He tugged it away from her face so she wasn’t hiding her eyes. At the look she gave him, so tired and sad, his grip moved down to her hand, and she squeezed back.

“I can keep going.” She sniffed, her bodily pain catching up with her miserable mood. “Not gonna lie, Batman… I feel like I’m slipping back into bad habits.”

“That’s why I said no patrol.”

“I know.”

“You going to listen?”

She nodded. “No Batgirl for a couple of weeks…Promise.”

“At the very least you can catch up on sleep a bit.” It was meant to be reassuring, but Bruce’s claim made Stephanie snort a gentle laugh. “And work on whatever is troubling you.”

Stephanie’s smile faded. “I can try. That’s all I can do at the minute. I’ll fix it.”

“Okay. I’ll get Alfred to give you a painkiller to help put you down tonight.” Bruce looked to Tim, who was in the corner with Dick. He looked equally miserable but chewed his lip and walked back over.

“I want to take you back to the apartment, Steph, if you want me to. I’ll take a couple of weeks off with you.”

She nodded. “I want that. Lemme get my drugs first.”

Bruce’s eyes hardened a little as he inspected Tim, who was stubbornly avoiding his gaze. Their conversation would have to wait. Once dosed up, Stephanie wrapped her arms around Tim’s shoulder, and hoisted herself up so she could hop over to his car.

“Goodnight Bruce…thank you.”

His mouth twitched, but with what emotion, Stephanie couldn’t tell.

When they got back, Stephanie managed to get settled on the bed. Tim promised to stay up with her to ensure she wouldn’t pass out with nobody to check on her. She lay like her limbs were made of lead, her head resting on a pile of pillows trying to support her neck.

“I’ll be okay. Alfred said since I can hold a conversation and my pupils are normal, I’ll be fine.”

“Your pupils are not fine. They’re as big as dinner plates.”

“That’s the painkillers.”

“I know… I just…”

She smiled. “You worry.”

“Yeah.”

She looked down at her hands, wringing them together. Her fingers on her right hand settled on her engagement ring, and she sighed.

“I’m sorry Tim, for everything. The argument and the hitting and me being a brat for weeks…You don’t… you don’t deserve any of this.”

“I shouldn’t have grabbed you the way I did. And I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not.” He fought back.

“No…not really.” She wrung her hands. “There’s no excuse. I’m better than this… better than my dad.”

“You’re not your father.”

Stephanie nodded in response. He thought she believed him.

Tim, who up until this point had been standing on the other side of the room, moved to sit on the bed. He was facing away from her, but Stephanie could see both of their faces in his mirror. The guilt that was rippling across his face was hard to watch, so she stared straight forward instead, looking at the fat yellow duck at the foot of the bed. Tim saw her do so, and his fingers curled up in the bed sheets.

“Can we get some things out in the open? Like, brutally honest out in the open?”

“Interrogating someone whilst their high on painkillers? Sure. But can I start?” She asked. Tim screwed up his nose and nodded. Stephanie kept her eyes on the duck. “Why did you hurt that man so badly?”

Tim’s palms became sweaty, and he nervously wiped them down his sweatpants.

“He hurt you.” He offered lamely.

“No. This was… this was different.”

“It is related to why Bruce and I don’t get on much in the suits anymore.”

Understatement. She didn’t know what he’d done. She couldn’t know…

“You think you have to be that harsh? Your fighting is getting colder and crueler. I worry…”

“What I was doing before wasn’t working. I’m not Jason. Not that far gone. But I’m not… not the same person I was when I was fifteen, Steph.”

Please don’t abandon me for it.

Stephanie shifted, creeping out from under the covers. She curled up behind him, her sore leg still stretched straight, and then reached around so she could link their fingers. She was smiling a little dopily, and Tim would have found it sweet if he could have gotten the day’s events out of his head.

“Look at us. You’d think we’ve been through some traumatic things the past few years.”

Tim raised his eyebrows at her teasing. “Weird that.”

Steph laughed, though it sounded a little slurred to his ears.

“You know, I figured out a long time ago. Why I love you.” She whispered conspiratorially, begging Tim to play along. Eventually she would conk out, drugs and injuries tiring her out too much to stay conscious, but Tim let her take the conversation off track. Her breath and hold were so warm it was nearly feverish. She had seen him nearly murder a man, but then she had let him pick her up with blood stained hands, and she now held his fingers like nothing was wrong. Maybe the pair of them were beyond help, but Tim couldn’t give up the idea of a happy life for Stephanie. Preferably with him in it but…he wasn’t too picky.

“Why?” He muttered.

“You’re so gentle. So gentle. No other guy I know comes close to it. And, yeah, at first, I was infatuated with you because oh so cool Robin, so brave, so smart… but when you stayed with me despite the pregnancy… I don’t know how to put it… you have a giant brain and a giant-er heart. I don’t care about how well you can hurt people. That’s never been part of it. And I believe you’ve never enjoyed that bit of superheroing. Knowing you had come for me, that made me feel safe, that was all I needed. Watching you nearly kill that man…”

“I panicked.” He confessed. “You’d left on such shaky terms and then your beacon went off and all I could see was red. I was so upset.”

“I was frightened for what you would do. For a second.”

Her stating her worry seemed to almost traumatise Tim. An uncomfortable length of time passed as he worked through what she said in his head. Stephanie didn’t know him. She didn’t love him. Not who he was. Not really. That violence was part of him now. She said she knew him, but with who he was now staring her right in the face, she did not want it to be true.

She leaned closer, her breath a warm whisper against his neck. “I told you. I won’t let you forget. Especially seeing that violence tonight. I promise Tim. That’s not you.”

He choked a little when he responded, trying to play it down and play it off.

“I try not to think about it. The moment I do for too long, I’ll believe Bruce is right to be worried.”

“Nah. He’s just being a dad.”

A long moment of silence passed. Stephanie continued to play with Tim’s fingers whilst she did nothing but think through the day’s events. Finally, she pressed her forehead against the back of his neck, against the burn scar he had received what felt like so long ago.

“Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you love me? Actual quantifiable reasons.” She shifted behind him, uttering more to herself than him, “Gimme an ego boost.”

Tim answered immediately, “Because you’re brave. Because you refuse to accept your lot in life. Because you’re beautiful. Because you came back to Gotham when you had every right to leave forever. Because somehow, after everything he’s done to you, you don’t hate your dad.”

“Don’t like him either.”

She didn’t respond to any of his other points. She was trying to accept them as truth, as Tim had yet to lie to her for all of this hellish two months. But something just prevented her from absorbing it. That wasn’t her. Or maybe it had been.

“Not the same thing.” Tim sighed and leaned back. The way she was sat meant his head thunked on her collarbone. “Steph? You’re a good person. Even if you doubt it sometimes. Reason enough.”

Steph’s breath washed over Tim, smelling of the medicine she had slurped down earlier.

“I hurt you.”

“Remember when I throttled you and kicked you in the stomach?”

“That was different.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m a big boy and can handle an argument here and there. This pity party, Steph… it helps no-one. Speaking from experience here.” Tim’s mind drifted back to his conversation earlier. “I have an idea. Well, Cassie suggested it actually.”

“You spoke to the Titans.” There was a flat curiosity in her tone. It wasn’t aggressive, just resigned.

“They’re getting sick of being ignored. Don’t think embarrassment is going to cut it as an excuse anymore.” Tim watched as Stephanie looked away, ashamed from being chided. “Listen. I want you to come with me to do some stuff for work.”

“What stuff?”

“Tomorrow I’m visiting the community centre down the road. There’s an after-school club for kids whose parents work crazy hours. We funded the renovations and pay a few members of permanent staff. It’s just a fluffy photo op, but you might enjoy it more than anything else I do for my job.”

“How old are the kids?”

“Middle school and down.”

She sat still and thought it through. Tim sighed. “Listen. You once told me that I was going to drive myself mad one day.”

“You are going to drive yourself mad one day.”

“Why?”

She huffed, already knowing what angle he was playing. “Because you worry too much and have overly controlling tendencies when left unchecked.”

“…Yeah. Sure.” He tried not to sound too resentful as she relayed his flaws so dispassionately. “So, where’s Miss “The Only Variable You Can Control Is Yourself”? Huh?” Tim nudged her jaw with his forehead, causing her to grumble. “You do you, Steph. The rest will fall into place. Come with me to this event. Play some foosball with kids.”

She screwed her eyes shut, and Tim watched her at the awkward angle. Finally, her internal battle ended, and she nodded her head.

“It’s another thing for the job if nothing else.”

“I’m not asking you to do it for the mission.” Tim breathed. He couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. “I mean it’s a side perk sure, but I just want it to remind you that you’re not a bad person.”

Stephanie finally pulled away, back under the covers of the bed. Her eyes were wet.

“I’m maybe not a bad person but I am a mess. Don’t know why you put up with me.”

“That’s okay.” And Tim crawled over to her. Being unbearably tender, he pulled all of her hair to one side and began to braid it, hoping it would help her sleep better than her usual tangled mop allowed. A sudden memory occurred to him, and he smiled absentmindedly. “You’re worth a few stomach ulcers.”

She looked at him suspiciously at his weird statement, handing him a hair tie from her wrist as he worked his way down. “I haven’t changed my mind. About what I said. I’m not emotionally ready to be with you. Not strong enough yet.”

“Do you want to be?” He asked, tone light, trying to not pressure her too much. He finished tying off the braid with an exaggerated snap of the elastic.

“With you?”

“Mm.”

“I do, Tim.”

“Then I’ll wait. After this mission is finished, we can… start from scratch again. Take it slow.”

“…I like the sound of that.”

“And in the meantime…” He got under the covers next to her. “We work on one thing at a time. Like a checklist. Number one, sleep and work off that injury.”

“Tim…” She smiled, but it was brittle and fell very quickly. Tim stroked loose strands of hair away from her face, and she shut her eyes. “How do you know I’m not just using you? You could be with someone like Tam right now. Why stay for the promise of maybe?”

“Well, firstly, you don’t have a manipulative bone in your body.”

“That’s a lie.” Her voice was starting to slur. She was growing heavier and sleepier with each moment.

He quickly rebuffed her rebuttal. “Mmm? I don’t know about that. And secondly,” He rested his hand on her cheek. “I don’t want Tam, or anyone else. Just you. I want to be happy. So, I want to stay in Gotham. I want Bruce to get off my case. I want to help people. And I want… I want you. That’s all. Think that’s…pretty standard for a guy in his twenties.”

Softly, slowly, Stephanie had moved closer and closer whilst Tim mused aloud. When they were sharing a pillow, Tim’s eyes drifted down to her lips again, and chewed his own nervously.

“You can kiss me.” She said, tone still flat. “If you want to. For real.”

“…Not good for you. You said. Once.”

“Once.”

But Tim knew she was only saying so to punish herself. He may have been sick in love with her, but he still wasn’t so far gone as to make out with someone who, as far as he knew, was still pretty high on painkillers.

Then their foreheads were touching, and Steph’s hands were burying into Tim’s hair. He felt awfully cruel when he did so, whilst knowing it was the right thing to do, but Tim reached down, under the sheets, and pushed four fingers into her stitches.

She shrieked, rolling away on to her back. Her cry turned into one of laughter, then she groaned, writhing a little under the sheets as the pain in her head and leg sharpened at the sudden movements.

“No funny business madam.”

Breathlessly, she grunted, nodding a little too fervently.

“Sure, sure.”

She was becoming that last stage of manic before the exhaustion caught up with her, so Tim tried to gently press down on her limbs, one by one, hoping to create a reassuring weight to help calm her down.

“Things will be better in the morning. You’ll see.” He laid back down, wrapping an arm around her, essentially making them spoon. His hand reached for hers, and he began to play with her ring. “Wanna take it off? To sleep?”

She shuffled backwards, until the curve of her spine pressed against his chest. “S’okay.” And then she yawned, nuzzling her way into the pillow.

They lay in comfortable silence for a long moment, before Tim reached back to turn off the lights. When his hand returned to hers, she called his name, though it sounded distant and fuzzy to her own ears, as she was half asleep when the thought came to her.

“Tim?”

“Mm?”

“You promise to wait for me? Just a bit longer?”

“Promise.”

She squeaked happily, then promptly began to snore. Gone. Tim chuckled, then closed his eyes.

#timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #dc #my fic tag

14 notes · View notes

chronicbatfictioner · 6 years

Text

Fast Car - Chapter 4

August first. They 'landed' at Gotham City by August 1st. And by landed Jason meant that they actually parked Tim's car in front of an apartment building and unloaded their meager belongings. The car was partially filled with Tim's computer equipment, a few of Jason's tools (that he would require if Tim's car decided to suddenly die on them at one point or another), and clothes.

Tim reported that his mom was livid when he packed up his stuff. He said he'd just kissed her on the cheeks and told her he'd send a postcard from Gotham. Jason thought that there would have been somebody else there, probably Sheriff Jones, otherwise Tim could end up gotten clobbered and Mrs Drake would probably shackle him to the house.

He had stayed over at Jason's place for a week, helping with storage of some of his grandparents' memento (Jason had paid for a year-long storage), and got his last-month deposit back from Mrs Lamont.

Mrs Lamont, on the other hand, had stated that if Jason ever chose to come back, she'll have a unit ready for him. "Your grandparents were my best tenants ever, dear. Don't you dare think I'd throw you out to the streets." she'd said, amidst her tears.

Jason had promised he'd write her, as often as he could.

He had somehow managed to get two jobs at once, at the diner a half-dozen blocks away, and a garage on the other side. The Narrows area of Gotham may not be the best neighborhood there is, but it was starting to build herself up. At least, Jason thought, their apartment was not in Crime Alley.

Crime Alley, where Jason was born and spent the first dozen years of his life, was the bane of Gotham. The denizens thereof were dirt poor - if not homeless. There are no organized crime in Crime Alley, just the ye-olde mugging, thievery, or flat out larceny. And the main reason why there is no organized crime there is basically because there would be no one there who were not a member of a gang elsewhere. Also because there were not enough places that they could benefit from, i.e. mom & pops stores, pharmacies, etc. The only redeeming quality of Crime Alley, Jason knew, is that the people are as poor as each other enough to the point where they would not rob each other, and would watch out for one another.

Unless one happened to be an outsider, that is. Like Tim. Who finally successfully enrolled himself for an associate degree in Bio Engineering at Gotham's Community College by September that year.

Jason always supposed that Tim's available finances would mean that he would not have to apply for Students' Aid to pay off the $3,500 two-years' worth of tuition. Tim's other expenses - books, travel cost, meal cost - could easily be covered by his dividends' income from the company his late father had left him (and the one his mom could not touch). Tim - in college - would look quite inconspicuous, anyway, with his slim-fit jeans, flannels, or hoodies. Unfortunately, said items of clothing (and music players, and tablets and smartphones on Tim's person) tend to attract the wrong attention at Gotham's less-than-affluent boroughs.

No matter how hard Jason tried to make him, Tim flat out refused to buy his clothes from Goodwill or any other second-hand store. Granted, his diminutive stature allowed him to not need a lot of clothes. But the clothes he actually had - as in the ones he did not steal off Jason's - looked expensive. And thus make him appear to be quite a target whenever he passed through Crime Alley area on his way to the Community College at the Bowery - even if he was passing through in his 15-year-old car.

"I think you should exchange your car with something younger." Jason suggested. "I mean, this thing may be old, but it's about old enough to be a classic. People might think you've actually bought it at premium."

Tim cackled. "Oh god... that was funny." he said, wiping tears from his laughter. "What's next? A disguise for my car?"

Jason shrugged. "Hey, a few strategically placed duct tape would take the attention off." he said.

Tim chortled again. "Oh my god, Jason...! Just because I nearly got mugged once, it doesn't mean it'll happen again! Besides, I told you, I've taken the wrong turn!"

Jason rolled his eyes. Tim did take a wrong turn, because his GPS gadget didn't know that Crime Alley areas should be avoided at all cost by anyone whose nett personal value is over $2,000. Annually.

It took Jason nearly an hour of arguments before Tim finally relented and make his GPS avoid all roads Jason deemed unsafe; as well as the be-all-end-all argument of: "I've been there on those streets, Timmers! Scoping for targets! They don't change just because I have!"

Low blow, he knew, to tug on Tim's heartstrings and blatant ignorance of how the other half lives. But it was necessary. Jason simply could not fathom the idea of someone from Crime Alley should hurt Tim. No, sir, he could not. He knew that should that happen, he would do everything he could to avenge Tim. And by default, he knew a lot that he could do, and to whom. After all, most of the present-day 'criminal elements' around the area would likely be those he'd grown up with.

November rolled by, and when Tim gleefully reported to him that the courses will run through most of the holidays and would only take breaks through weekend-holiday-dates, "because most of the kids and faculties are locals, anyway." Jason started to wonder if Gotham ever actually slept.

He, on the other hand, worked from day to night. Even with the shifts, the garage owner actually allowed him to switch shifts whenever the Diner switches. He felt kind of blessed.

Until the apartment building across theirs caught fire. Right after Christmas.

The buildings around the Narrows were not... decrepit, per se. But they were not young, either. Jason was sure that the city would have condemned a lot of the buildings, if they haven't gotten paid off by whoever the owners of the buildings are. Burning down a building to have it renovated later with the insurance money? Not out of the realms of those building owners, and Jason knew that all too well.

"I think..." Jason said slowly, as he and Tim watched the flames and the Fire Department working from the other side of the street. "We should figure out how to get enough money to move from here."

"Why?" Tim asked, wrapping Jason's arms around him.

"The buildings, you know they're old, right? The way it goes around here is that building owners wouldn't spare a dime to displace their tenants when they need to renovate their buildings. They'd just burn them down. It's the same in here, at Park Row, East End, and Bowery. The homes of people of the lower-end of the income brackets." Jason explained. "It's just--" he paused, looking for words.

"--your paranoid brain talking?" Tim supplied, grinning impishly.

"Nooo... not really. I'm just... I've looked around and noticed that our building is about as old as that one that's burning right now. We're also owned by Alonso's - the same owner as that building's. It'll only be a matter of time - like, maybe six months-ish - for them to settle the insurances for that one. And then they'll probably start the reconstruction phase of that one. Once they're done, I would bet you money that this building will be next to be torched." Jason elaborated. "It's just... I've seen it so many times at Park Row, you know? I can't help but noticing."

Tim hummed, swaying a little, snugly embraced by Jason's arms. "You know..." he started. "I've... I've gotten this offer..." he stopped.

Jason waited. But Tim did not continue. He poked Tim's rib, tickling him. "Yeeeah? You've got this offer of what?"

Tim giggled. "Stop! I got this offer of a job. It's an internship job and doesn't pay much. But supposedly after three months, I'd get the option to live in their employees' housing. It's an apartment building, really. And it offers a lot of options for the housing. Like, from studio to three bedrooms, even the penthouse, if you can afford it." he said.

"You got a job offer and you're not telling me??" Jason scoffed, pressing his mouth on the crook of Tim's neck and playfully bit him.

"I just got it this morning!" Tim protested. "And I kinda forgot! I told them I'll think about it, 'cause I have to figure out the scheduling with the classes I'm taking for the Spring Semester..."

"Do they want like, eight hours' work day?"

"Yeeeah, that's what I'll need to figure out and/or ask. The big guy said I should contact him again after the holidays. I suppose that'll mean after January 1st..." Tim pouted. "Aaand tomorrow I'll need to check my class' scheduling so I can present an argument if the big guy is being... I dunno-- unreasonable?"

"Why did he want you to begin with? I mean, you're a first year student..." Jason wanted to know. "Not that I doubt your smarts. Just kinda weird."

"Oh yeah. He was my dad's business partner before dad died, apparently. He'd seen my grades for the last quarter, and liked that I'm focusing in bio-engineering. He thought I could learn so much more in his company's R&D and maybe even help out with fresh ideas." Tim said breezily. "I suppose he thought there're too many old people there and young brains should bring on new ideas..."

"That... actually sounded plausible." Jason agreed. "Just make sure you have some sort of contract or something for the living space when you get it, yeah?"

"Yes, dad, I'll make sure to ask one and have you look at it." Tim pouted at him coyly. Jason gave him a mock scowl.

"Twerp," he spat, lovingly bit Tim's lower lip.

"Mrmm... jerk..." Tim replied with a sigh.

By the end of January, they had packed up and moved to the Apartment Complex that housed most of Tim's colleagues. Jason had figured that either Tim's boss was soft on him, or Tim had really managed to convince said boss of his worth. They ended up in a one-bedroom apartment that was at least twice the size of Jason's grandparents' two-bedroom one.

Jason had only enjoyed working at the Diner for approximately eight months since he'd arrived in Gotham. It was, in retrospect, a more enjoyable job than the one he has at a service garage - the dirts are easier to wash, for starter. And he would come home smelling of herbs instead of motor oil. Deep down, however, Jason was not expecting to work for years and years in there. Businesses in Gotham has only two endings: Get absorbed into a larger, corporate business; or went out in a blaze of glory.

In retrospect, he should have seen it coming. The mafia and gangster-types patron of the diner should have been a dead giveaway. But he was kind of desperate at the time. Besides, the people he worked with were nice and treated him like he was a "distant family member," - said old man Ricelli.

Only two weeks after they finally moved to Tim's new loft, at the Wayne Apartment Complex, Jason went to work to find several fire trucks rolling their hoses back into the trucks. And the diner that was his workplace roasted to cinder.

"Wha-- what happened..." he croaked his question to a bystander.

"Old man Ricelli's family got offed." the guy - one of the workers from across the street, replied. "Boy! You weren't in there!" he exclaimed, recognizing Jason. "How come?"

"I..." Jason blinked as he saw coroner's van carried out four body bags. One for each members of the Ricelli family. "I have another job... I'm only here for the night shift." he said. "Oh god..." he breathed, slumping to the ground.

"Consider countin' your blessin', boy. They tossed a molotov cocktail and it hit the gas line. Boom!" the man said. "You'd be crispy, too, if you were there."

That night, Jason hugged Tim extra hard as he fought back tears.

Gotham, he thought, he should've known that no good things last in Gotham unless you have a big load of cash attached to you.

#Jason Todd #Tim Drake #jaytim #no-capeAU #also in ao3 #angst #trigger warning #Batfam #Red Hood #Red Robin #songfic #fastcarAU

7 notes · View notes

jynsongxvii-blog · 7 years

Text

Angeles a l o n e

A/N: -uess who got sick after puking last friday! Yes, me. Yes, it sucked. BUT I’M GOOD NOW SO YAY. Not yay because I wrote this barely today tho :) Anyway, hope you enjoy it. [Challenge #5] Couldn’t get too much into details, very sorry about that. Getting sick didn’t help writing inspiration. Tonight I got it, just not enough time time to write everything. Still I tried however. Have more Jyn lol and forgive typos, not time for revisions. If you never read the first practice challenge/fic I wrote idk if this will be confusing? It kinda talks about jyn’s parents...so idk. Check it out here if you wanna refresh your mind.

Girls had been sneaking out of the palace in the last few weeks. I’d only ever done it with Dominoes, but that day I was ready to give Angeles a little of myself alone.

It had only taken asking Geoffrey to help me again. As always the old butler pretended to hate it, but he didn’t really hesitate to show me a way out and soon enough I found myself around the chatters of citizens at afternoon. I only hid my face under a baseball cap that in turn was covered by a hoodie. That seemed to be all the requirements needed for famous people to sneak around in movies if I added my new favorite sunglasses. I didn’t dare to consider myself seriously famous yet, but I’d received enough attention from magazines lately for cutting my hair and donating it to the hospital in our last assignment.

Some people debated about it being really sweet of me while others said it was just some fake altruist move to get attention. It was kind of a stupid argument considering them debating about it just created said attention, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t even planned it at all. It was nothing but a last minute decision. I figured if the media had it’s eyes on me I might as well take the chance to do something good. I’d received a letter from the nurse that had looked after me while I told the children my story and she said they’d received donations all over Illea, apparently other hospitals had too.

The country could keep debating on what my intentions had been. At least it served some good, whether the people behind said good gave their hair for the cause or for a trend. I had to get rid of my purple tips first, but thankfully never cutting my hair made it long enough that even after cutting the unusable tips my braid was useful. I had to admit when people asked me if my hair wasn’t heavy I considered it a ridiculous question, but with shorter hair I realized why they said it. My head did feel lighter, not to say having long hair was uncomfortable since you couldn’t tell the difference in weight, however.

I made my way through the crowd and spotted different places. Cafes, restaurants, stores and clubs. After a few hours I’d lost myself in the city, the good kind of lost though. My ears perked up at the sound of music and I found a small group of street musicians. It was simple music, but they were good, getting a few people to gather around, including me. I smiled at their enthusiasm playing, it was an upbeat song, sufficient for couples to joke around dancing. Some clapped and I hummed along, choosing the worse moment to leave my tips on their hat.

The violinist got in my way, grinning as he played. I raised an eyebrow at him and he stared at the group of people dancing, his expression becoming clear.

“Sorry, dancing isn’t my thing.” Not at the moment at least.

He gave me a pout and his sight focused on a girl practically jumping on her place as she stared at the couples dancing. She was adorable there was no denying that but…The violinist gave me a smirk somehow knowing I would cave in to the girl in bouncing ponytails. I sighed, taking my glasses off before offering the girl a hand. She gave her mother a questioning look for permission before accepting it with a squeal of excitement. She was even more adorable spinning around with me. I tried to make her twirl around and skipped along with her. In the end, my head got into the harmony of the music so much I started singing that. No real lyrics, just harmony as I hauled the girl up in my hip and spinned with her.

More people were drawn to or group as I danced on light feet, focusing mostly on the little girl as I sung, not even noticing the moment my hoodie fell back. All of the couples twirled around one last time a few steps away as the song came to an end and laughter echoed in the street as the crowd walked over to give the musicians tips, clapping more.

A hand pulled my arm as people clapped and whistled. I realized it was one of the other musicians. “You have a pretty voice Lady Jyn.”

I gulped, blushing as I realized the people were clapping at me too and that my disguise had been in vain in the end.

Surprisingly, I had to sign a few autographs and take pictures with some girls excited to meet one of Dom’s Elite members. The group of musicians insisted I should keep some of their profit, saying it wouldn’t have been that good a night without my help, but I declined saying it was better in their hands for now.

When things finally calmed down I was dragged into yet another awkward situation by a woman that had stayed in our audience for longer and stared at me like I was a ghost. She was clearly from a higher caste by the way she was dressed, stylish brown curls draped over her shoulder covered by expensive clothes. She didn’t seem as old as she probably was.

“That face was enough to get me suspicious,” she finally grinned, “being a Song made it even worse, but that voice...You have Becca’s voice too.”

My eyes widened at the name. That couldn’t be right. How could someone like her be related to my family in any way?

“You- You knew my mother?”

“Why would she hide being- Becca would have never hidden something like that from me...would she?” Her shoulders slumped at the thought, though I didn’t understand any of what she meant. She’d been practically blabbering confusing nonsense since we’d sat down at a bench. She’d mentioned my father too however, and mentioned too many details I’d heard my own dad say about my mom to confirm she wasn’t making stuff up. She actually knew my parents. “Unless...Oh they wouldn’t…. They wouldn’t go all that way to hide it!”

I blinked at her, wondering if maybe running away from there was an option, but she reached for my hands, squeezing gently, hopeful eyes searching my own. “Is your mother alive then? Was it another one of her crazy plans? Pretending to be sick?”

Being sick? An act?

“I-I’m sorry... I don’t know what you’re talking about, but my mother isn’t alive. She died after childbirth.” After I was born. It was always easier to say childbirth. I knew it wasn’t my fault and I couldn’t really miss her myself, but what she was...she was something to others. I used to think it was just my father--and that was enough to make saying it aloud uncomfortable--but now there was Marissa. This woman that claimed to be my mother’s best friend once upon a time. When apparently my mother was some sort of famous singer. One of my crazy dreams was my mother’s life and I’d never known. My mother had been a Two. Or so Marissa claimed.

The way her eyes looked down as she let go of my hands in disappointment made me tear up a bit. It felt like that time I’d cried in front of Kat. It had been a weird week, spending my birthday away from dad for the first time a few weeks before that and then seeing that kid in the hospital, Tim’s little brother. Both of them scared their mother wouldn’t get better.

I’d attempted to put myself in the little boy’s shoes in my conversation with Kat, but it reality I had ended up putting the kid in my shoes. Not a boy that might lose his mother and forget her, but the girl that never met her own and struggled to ignore how her mother’s loss still affected others. The girl that heard her dad talk about all the lovely things his wife once did. Details that maybe no longer existed because of her own existence.

It was a stupid thought maybe. It wasn’t like I had a choice. Dad always made sure I knew it wasn’t like that, but sometimes I just couldn’t help from wondering. Would she still be here without me? Would it had been better? Would my dad had been happier even if he claimed it wasn’t true? I pushed the thoughts away like I had that last time after swimming with my friend--yes Kat, you’re my friend--but made sure to this time replace them with dad’s words: ‘Of course I miss her, Jyn. I would love to have her here with me... but only so she could see what a wonderful girl you’ve become.’

It still made me cry, but more because of all the efforts my dad had done rather than because of sadness. I wiped away the tears and smiled apologetically at Marissa. “Sorry to bring the bad news.”

She gave me a sad smile back and surprised me with a hug. “Oh honey, no... The silly thought just made it’s way through my head again. I already spilled my own tears years back. What you’re bringing now is good news...” She pulled away and smiled with still glassy eyes. “Knowing the truth, knowing about you, it makes it a million times better. You’re mother would be the happiest woman on earth to see how you share the same strong voice.”

The words coming from someone different than my dad made me smile, but I was sure it was a slightly awkward smile since I barely knew Marissa at all. She apparently noticed too, standing up and wiping her tears.

“Jeez, I’m making a scene and making you uncomfortable, aren’t I? You must think I’m a crazy lady.”

“Uh,” I laughed nervously, “no, it’s fine, just...a bit confused I guess.”

Oh, so you’re guessing now, huh? For some reason I imagined Dom’s mocking voice in my head. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes as I grinned to myself.

“Understandable…” Marissa assured me. “It seems there’s a lot to be discussed. Ri sure has a lot to explain to me, no wonder he just decided to vanish.” She shook her head like my dad was in front of her. “That little--”

I cleared my throat and she looked down at me. “Right, sorry. How about we go to your mother’s favorite cafe and I can explain it all?”

A/N 2.0: To be continued… I guess? Jyn’s project in the end was something she wasn’t even sure would be counted as a service project since it involved changing law issues regarding marriage in Illea. Once she learned the true story behind her parents’ complications to keep their lifestyles and be together, it was all she could really think about, so that’s what she worked around. There’s--> this old interview where you can see some of Jyn’s opinions about marriage and how the woman is entitled to take the man’s caste no matter what (before she even found out about her parents). Terribly sorry this is met half way, but under my circumstances that is all I could manage. Hope you liked what you got tho <3 , it’s almost 2k words. There’s a reference to the second date ro with dom that I’m still in the middle of writing a fic for since I struggled with time. I guess y’all seeing it depends on if I get eliminated or not lol.

#jyn #my fic #challenges #challenge 5

9 notes · View notes

mrstevenbushus · 5 years

Text

Expert Guide to Project Management

Project management is one of those terms that can conjure up all sorts of negative images and worries for the average self builder.

It is often associated with large scale, difficult tasks and carries implicit references to risk and the potential for things to go horribly wrong.

When we think of project management, we often think of big schemes like the Millennium Dome, nuclear power stations and the HS2 rail link.

In reality, project management applies to small-scale as well as large-scale activity.

So even projects that are relatively small – and that includes a domestic self-build or renovation – need to be managed. But by whom? The question is whether to risk having a go ourselves, or leave it to the pros.

The basics of project management

In simple terms, project management encompasses the skills needed to produce a defined outcome (a new house) within the constraints of the resources available (your budget) and within a certain timescale.

The latter can be flexible, but for some reason usually manifests itself as “in the house before Christmas”. We often encounter project management in our day-to-day lives without a second thought.

Arranging a family holiday, planning a wedding and organising the office party are all projects that we are happy to approach with little or no prior experience – and more often than not, with great success.

Building a house is no different. People have constructed homes for centuries. Quite a few builders and tradesmen know how to do it rather well because, for most projects, it’s not rocket science.

Leaving aside one-off conceptual designs and instead focusing on the typical houses that we might contemplate building for ourselves, the sequence of events is based on common sense.

The real art is in finding the right materials and people to do the job to the standard you require, for a price you can afford.

Who can project manage?

There are undoubtedly professional project managers out there who will be able to take day-to-day control of your build, but the clue is in the ‘professional’ bit.

They don’t come cheap and most self builders have a finite budget, the majority of which needs to be allocated to the physical construction by way of materials and labour.

This prompts most of us to either undertake the role of project manager ourselves or to entrust the role to a general builder – someone who knows what they are doing and has the contacts to get the right trades at the right price.

I have long argued that for the typical self builder contemplating a straightforward new build, this is a sensible route to take, as long as you select the right builder.