Work Text:
Tim opened his eyes to the Red Hood looming over him, eyes gleaming an unnatural angry agony-green, and a malicious smirk on his face.
Phantom blood gushed out of his throat and his body stung with the memory of the bruises from Titans Tower.
Tim gasped in fear and shot up to scramble back from Hood. “No, no,” he whimpered. “I’ve had e— enough, please.”
The surroundings of his bedroom melted and mingled with his memories of the Tower walls, streaked red with his blood.
“Hood, d— don’t. I want to s— stop, I—”
“Damn,” the Red Hood sneered. “Begging already? I thought Batman’s newer model was supposed to be smart, not sickeningly pathetic.” He gripped his wrist, the one with the broken fingers, and he squeezed tight enough to bruise, any harder and it would be tight enough to break.
“You’ve made your point,” Tim sobbed. “Please.”
Hood twisted his arm and Tim cried out.
“Hood, stop! Please!”
Red Hood pressed a blade to his throat. “It stops when I say it stops,” he hissed before slicing the flesh of his throat.
Tim screamed. He thrashed, clutching his throat. Something got tangled in his legs and he kicked at it.
“Tim, Tim, calm down, chum, it’s me.”
Someone grabbed his arms and pulled them out of the way.
“Tim.”
He was suddenly pressed into a chest, his ear above their heart, calm, steady heartbeat—
Tim sobbed, the fight slowly draining out of him.
“It’s okay, chum. It’s okay. It’s me, it’s Bruce.”
Tim breathed heavily, his chest puffing in and out and his heart rabbiting in his ribcage. He clutched the person who was holding him. “B— Bruce?” he asked, looking up.
“Hi, Tim.” Bruce smiled, pain flashing in his eyes.
Tim’s eyes watered and he squeezed the old man tightly. “Bruce,” he sobbed. “Bruce. I— I— I thought I was back— back there. In— in the T— Tower.”
“I know. I know, sweetie.”
“I was— I was— Red Hood p— pressed the kn— knife to my throat again and I— I—”
“Shhh, it’s alright.”
“I thought I was going to die. There was b— blood everywhere and I couldn’t—”
Bruce gripped him tightly. “You’re alright, Tim. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”
“I—” Tim wriggled out of Bruce’s hold, needing to see him again, when someone else caught his attention.
Over near the doorway, Jason stood. His brows were knitted together in worry. He looked guilty and horrified, and at the same time, like he wanted to help but was hesitating.
But all Tim could see were his glinting green eyes.
Tim couldn’t breathe.
The air got stuck in his chest, spines of dread wrapped themselves around his throat, and his body trembled like a perpetually shaking rattle as he couldn’t take his eyes off his attacker-brother-torturer standing in his room.
“Tim?” Bruce called his name, but it sounded like he was very far away.
He couldn’t bring himself to move, to respond, to do anything. When Jason took a step forward, Tim whimpered breathlessly and gasped for help. “No, please,” he said meekly. “H— Hood.”
Jason looked stricken and froze in his movements.
“Don’t hurt— don’t hurt me m— more.” Tim tried to gulp in some air, but failed. “‘M s— sorry.”
“Jason,” Bruce’s voice said again, unreachable and far. “Leave the room please.”
“R— right.” Red Hood flashed him a look (of worry? No, it was anger, no wait—), turned and all but fled out of the room.
Tim watched him go, and the fear inside him exploded. He coughed to try and breathe again, then keened when he couldn’t. His chest ached with how tight it was and his eyes watered, blurring the world around him.
“You’re alright, Tim. You’re okay, chum. Come on, breathe with me. 1… 2…”
Tim cried out weakly, squeezing his eyes shut at how consumingly large his fear made the hole in his chest.
“3… 4…”
The blood trailing down in beads from his neck raised the goosebumps around his body (or maybe that was just sweat—).
“And out, 5… 4… 3…”
He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. Whether Hood had left him bleeding on the ground, or if Jason had left him in the arms of Bruce on his bed.
“Tim, look at me please.”
He was trapped.
He was going to die.
“Tim!”
Tim snapped his head up, blue eyes gazing at him with worry.
“Tim, sweetheart.”
A hand cupped his cheek, creating a dam for his tears.
“You’re not there. Please try to come back to the present. You’re not there.”
A thumb stroked his cheek, causing the hairs at the back of his neck to tingle.
“I’m here, Tim. I’m here to protect you, and I always will. You’re safe with me, chum. You’re safe.”
His bottom lip wobbled. Bruce was here. Hood wasn’t. Bruce was. He was here. He would protect him. He was safe.
His head dropped back to his chest, his breaths turning from quick to heavy with exhaustion. “Bruce,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re alright, Tim. You’re okay.” The hands wrapped around his body, tucking him inside a safe cocoon. “It was a nightmare, a big scare. But you’re okay. You’re brave, son. And so, so resilient. You’ll be okay.”
Tim closed his eyes and clutched him tighter.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
He ran, blood smearing the floor with every step he took. The walls grew taller and taller around him, and the halls got narrower and narrower.
It got too difficult to run. He couldn’t breathe. He was choking on his blood, he couldn’t think-
He slowed down and tried squeezing through the narrow hall space.
“Running again?”
He failed. Red Hood was right behind him.
“Come on, Robin. You should know that’s not enough to escape me.”
Tim whipped around and shut his eyes at the image of Hood leaping at him with the knife.
When he opened his eyes again, it was with a scream in his throat.
He shot up from the bed, panting heavily as the sweat dripped down from his forehead. He turned, and immediately met a pair of fluorescent green eyes staring at him coldly.
“No,” he whimpered, clutching the blankets tightly to his chest. “No.”
“Drake! Calm down, it’s me.”
Tim hiccuped, his chest aching with the movement. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, waiting for the blow.
Suddenly, his bedroom flooded with lights.
Tim blinked and looked around at his room. His bedroom, not Titans Tower. In the place of the green eyes he had seen before, was the small figure of Damian Wayne, standing with his arms crossed.
Tim rubbed his eyes. “Damian?” he ventured hoarsely.
“Yes.”
Tim frowned in confusion. “I— I thought—” He rubbed his eyes again. The crushing tightness of his chest ceased a little, as he slowly realized that the glowing, green-tinted eyes belonged to Damian, not Red Hood. “Oh.”
He breathed a sigh of relief.
He looked around his room again, eyes on the light switch, then narrowed them as he faced back at Damian. “Did you just… throw a dagger at the light switch instead of pressing it like a normal person?”
Damian rolled his eyes. “Tt. That would have taken too long, and by then, you would have spiralled into another panic attack. This was more efficient.”
Tim laughed lightly. The tightness in his chest loosened some more. “What are you doing here?”
“Standing guard,” Damian replied shortly.
“For what?”
“In case Todd appeared in your room and harmed you again.”
At the mention of Jason’s name, Tim’s heart sped up a little. He swallowed it down and replied, “He didn’t harm me. I just got triggered when I saw him. It was nothing he did.”
“Does it matter?” Damian muttered.
“Why are you here “standing guard” anyway?”
Damian’s eyes darted down to his shoes, betraying the hesitance he felt. He muttered something too quiet for Tim to catch.
“What was that?”
“I wanted to check up on you! Okay?” Damian huffed with a pout. “We’re supposed to have Minecraft Monday today, but last week after you had that massive panic attack seeing Todd, you were too tired to do anything else for the next two days. I… I wanted to make sure you had time to spend with me today.” He cast his head down shyly (or as shy as Damian could get).
A fond smile slowly stretched his lips. “Dami.” He yanked his arm and pulled him into a hug. “‘Course I have time for you. Maybe not always, but I definitely do. Sorry we missed last week’s Minecraft Monday.”
Damian stayed still in his hug. “So… you’re free for Minecraft Monday today?”
Tim squished him one last time before he let go. “Yep. Go ahead and set everything. I’ll be back after freshening up.”
Damian grinned. “Good. Because we have a lot to catch up on. Pennyworth made sandwiches for us to eat for breakfast here.”
“Great. I’ll just pop into the bathroom.”
Tim watched Damian happily trot out, failing to hide his excitement. He shook his head with affection before throwing off the blankets and stepping out of bed. His knees wobbled with the remnants of the nightmare. He ignored it.
He wasn’t going to spend the rest of the day sulking about something that happened in his dreams, like he did last time as Damian said. It was just a stupid nightmare, and now that he was awake, it was over. End of story.
The two of them quickly had their laptops and gaming pads set up on Tim’s desk. Damian had drawn up a list of things they needed to work on for their Robin Fortress before they could dive into the other games.
A few minutes in, Damian reticently asked, “Drake.”
“Yeah, baby bat?”
“Your hands are shaking. Really badly.”
Tim gripped the controller tightly, hiding how hard they were quivering. He smiled at Damian. “I’m fine, Dami. It'll go away soon. They won’t affect my efficiency in defending us from attacks in bedwars, if you’re so worried about it.”
“I wasn’t…” Damian stared at his shaking hands, then at him. He sighed. “Never mind,” he dismissed. “We should check the tin we have in our chest. I think we might be able to forge something for the fortress with it.”
Tim hummed. “What do you have planned?”
“Well, first of all…”
------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm sorry." Dick pressed his lips into his hair. "I'm so sorry."
Tim curled his fingers on his jacket even tighter. They couldn't hold much, especially with how numb his entire left arm was, even after Dick had set his shoulder after the fight. His grip was as feeble as a baby's.
"It's okay. I promise you, you're okay, you are okay." Dick soothed.
Tim sobbed again, his hands violently shaking as they did all they could to grip Dick's jacket. His cast got in the way of giving him a hug, but Dick more than compensated by shifting him in a more comfortable position.
He was in Blüdhaven, at Dick’s apartment. After a mission with Nightwing successfully wrapped up, albeit with a few injuries, Tim had crashed on Dick’s couch, only to wake up a few hours later, a scream bubbling in his throat.
He parted his lips to say something, but a big sob rushed out instead and his tongue fell flat.
"Hey, hey. Baby bird. I'm here. It's okay."
"It— it wasn't though," Tim finally managed to croak out. "It wasn't."
"I know. I know."
"I admired him so— so much. I used to go out and— and—" Tim sobbed again. Damn this body that couldn't listen to him!
"Shh." Dick threaded his fingers through his hair. "It's alright. I got you. I got you."
"I see him in my nightmares," Tim continued. "Dick, I— I can't sleep, I— I keep seeing him."
"I know. And I'm sorry that it's still happening."
"I know he apologized now and it's all supposed to be fine but— but—"
"But it still hurts," Dick finished for him. "It still hurts you. It shouldn't, but it is."
"Yeah," Tim sniffed. "Yeah, it does."
Dick hummed in understanding. He pressed another kiss to his hair. "You can stay with me here, if you like. You can stay for as long as you need."
Tim sniffed again, the mucus in his nose blocking his breathing. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"Always, baby bird.” Dick responded, quietly. “You're still my brother. And I'll never stop looking after you as one."
-----------------------------------------------------
As a resident little brother and a middle child, Tim had the responsibility of crashing into his older sibling’s apartments, eating their food, causing a bit of a mess, then leaving.
It was how siblings bonded. He hadn’t known that before, but he knew it well now. Even if the older siblings complained, they were happy to have the younger ones over.
Tim had done that twice with Dick’s apartment this month, satisfying the quota. He had also interrupted Barbara multiple times too. Since Cass lived in Wayne Manor with him, he just crashed into her room and hung out with her for a bit. The only person who was left now was Jason.
Which was just as well, because the shithead had been avoiding him for the past month. Tim had an inkling as to why. To solve this little kerfuffle, he decided to kill two birds with one stone and crash into Jason’s apartment after tonight’s patrol.
And by “crash” he meant disabling the lock and sensor of the living room window and letting himself in.
“Hey, Jason!” Tim called out cheerfully.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Jason shrieked and tripped over the table, spilling the chocolate covered almonds he was holding in a bowl.
Tim tutted disappointedly. “Carpet chocolate almonds don’t taste as good as not-carpet ones.” He picked some up and tossed it into his mouth. “Isn’t going to stop me though,” he said while chewing.
“The hell are you doing here, repla— Red?”
“Just finished patrol,” he replied, picking up more almonds. “Couldn’t bother making the trek to the Manor, so I’m sleeping here tonight instead. This is happening now, you can’t stop it.”
He managed to gather all the spilt almonds and tipped it back into the bowl Jason was holding. He snatched the bowl from him and plopped himself down on one of the armchairs, making himself comfortable and lying down, dangling his legs over the arm. He took off his mask and flicked it to the table.
When Jason failed to say anything in response, he looked up. “What is it?”
Jason winced. He sat down on the chair furthest away from him. “Are you… sure you want to sleep here? While I’m still in the apartment? I could drive you to the Manor if you need.”
“It’s like you’re not even listening.” Tim rolled his eyes. “I just said that I didn’t want to go all the way back to the Manor.”
“I can leave then, spend the night in another one of my safehouses.”
Tim huffed in frustration. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Huh?”
Tim swung his legs back to the ground, straightening up. “You’ve been avoiding me. For the past month. Every time I enter a room, you make a lame excuse and leave, every time we go out on patrol, you choose the route that’s farthest away from me, every time we need to be paired up for missions, you pair yourself up with someone else as quickly as possible. It’s irritating. And…” He set the bowl on the table, letting the hurt show on his face. “It’s a little wounding too. I want to spend time with you, but it seems like you’re never there for me to do that.”
Jason was silent. He intertwined his fingers between his knees, looking down in shame. Quietly, he admitted, “I don’t want to trigger you again.”
“What do you mean?” Tim asked, despite knowing full-well what he meant. It was good to just say these things out loud.
(Also, he wanted to hear Jason say it. It was vindicating.)
“That night, when you were having a nightmare, I came into your room to help you. You were having a nightmare about me. Me hurting you… in Titans Tower. You couldn’t seem to distinguish me and Red Hood. That night, I wasn’t Jason to you. I wasn’t your brother.” He looked up. “I was your torturer.”
Tim pushed down the bout of guilt that threatened to show in his face. “Bruce helped me calm down.”
“Yeah, after I left.” Jason rubbed his face with a hand. “While I was still there, you were— you were begging me. Begging me to stop hurting you, just like— just like you did at the Tower. Seeing me sent you into a panic so bad that you could barely breathe, and it took you two whole days to recover.”
Tim scoffed. “So?”
“So… I don’t want to repeat what happened again. I don’t want to trigger you into a panic attack again.” Jason directed his gaze back down to the floor again, twiddling his thumbs nervously.
Tim felt for his brother. Despite everything being ‘okay’ now, and everyone having hashed things over with each other, Jason still felt vulnerable. He had made a lot of mistakes, Titans Tower being one of them. Though nowadays his guilt showed up less and less, he still shut down at times when he remembered.
Tim wasn’t the only one who had trauma. Jason witnessing the long-term effects of one of his biggest mistakes was traumatic for him too.
“You’re an idiot,” Tim announced.
Jason glanced at him with surprise.
“You really don’t think that it’s as simple as that, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Jason,” Tim got up, moving to sit near him. “You know that trauma comes and goes. Just because I’m scared of you sometimes doesn’t mean that I hate you and never want to see you again. Those nightmares… they aren’t random. I got into a fight a few days before and someone had managed to corner me with a knife to my throat. I got a small cut there, nothing too serious at all, but it left me pretty shaken. I must have been more rattled than I thought, because I got those nightmares as a result. It’s not your fault.”
Jason pursed his lips doubtfully. “It kinda is.”
“Mm, no. You apologized and made up for it by saving my ass more than once, and just being there for me. As my brother. That’s all I really want.”
Jason considered his words. He was silent for several long moments. “So… someone touching your scar is a trigger for you?”
Tim shrugged. “I guess, yeah. But it has nothing to do with you now, so can you please stop being so irritating and emotionally constipated like Bruce and make me some soup before bed, for Gotham’s sake?”
Jason’s face split into a smile. He rolled his eyes and ruffled his hair. “I’m not your maid, you know?”
“Your outfits beg to differ.”
“Just for that, I’m making you sleep on the couch.”
Tim’s eyes widened. “Oh, please no. It’s so fucking cold tonight, and it’s warmer when we’re together.”
“Not my problem.”
“Jasoooooooon.”