Fic: The Sound of Solace; Tim Drake (Red Robin II)/Jaime Reyes (Blue Bettle III); R; Part 3/6
Title: The Sound Of Solace
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Part: 3/6
Pairing: Tim Drake (Red Robin II)/Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle III)
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, violence later
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone is more than legal
Word Count: 2,300 words
Author's Notes: We interrupt your regularly scheduled Jewel of Sakar for something that has a happy ending. Third of six vignettes about Tim and Jaime. Written for prompt #6: heal for my Tim/Jaime claim on dcu_freeforall.
Part Three
Jaime Reyes was bruised. Not just slightly bruised, either. He was ‘bruised to hell,’ as Paco would say. He was bruised so badly he could almost feel the blood from the burst vessels seeping into his skin and staining it a dark purple. He didn’t even want to contemplate what his side looked like at the moment. Probably like one of Milagro’s early attempts at finger painting, when her favorite colors were purple and blue.
It was not a pretty thought.
Additionally, not only was Jaime Reyes bruised to hell, he was also pissed off and frustrated, as well.
There was a new meta running around in El Paso these days. A meta that neither he nor Kahji Dha could figure out how to take down. He gone toe to toe with the guy three times in the past two weeks and all he had managed to do was rack up some serious property damage bills.
Jaime was officially at a loss as to what to do.
He had tried the direct approach, going after the guy head on. When that had not worked he had tried the muscle approach. He had called Wonder Girl in for back up and they both went after him. Unfortunately, all that managed to accomplish was demolish a quarter of a city block. After that, Jaime had tried the psyche out approach. He caught up with the meta and hit him with everything he had until both he and the scarab were exhausted. The meta just popped out when the dust settled and proceeded to give Jaime a through walloping.
Now here he was, exhausted, bruised, and frustrated, running home to Mami with his tail between his legs.
It was disgusting.
He was a superhero now. He fought evil. He had worked with Batman and Superman. He had saved the world from certain doom. He had traveled to distant plants and through time.
And look at him now.
He couldn’t even take down one measly meta with the help of backup.
What would Ted Kord say?
What would Robin say, for that matter?
The thought made Jaime grimace.
It was Red Robin now but Jaime had trouble remembering that. Or even thinking of Robin as being some else now. Someone new. While he wasn’t an active member of the Titans anymore Jaime still respected Robin’s opinion. Mostly because no one else had ever bothered to give Jaime theirs. Batman and Superman had used him when they needed him, then patted him on the back and distractedly told him what a good job he had done, their attention already on other matters.
That or, you know, left him to die in space.
Whichever was most convenient at the time.
Jaime was seriously getting tired of all this crap. He had thought being a cape would get easier as time went on but the deeper he got into things the more frustrating and confusing everything became.
Jaime was getting tired of it. He was tired of getting beat up. He was tired of all the smashed buildings and injured people. He was tired of feeling like a bumbling amateur. Most of all he was tired of letting a stupid, smug hijo de la gran puta win all the time.
“It’s unacceptable,” the memory of Robin’s voice, as it instructed him, echoed in Jaime’s head and Jaime sighed in agreement.
It was unacceptable and it was more than past time Jaime figured out how to deal with this guy.
“Red Robin,” the scarab suggested solemnly as they flew home. “He helped you before. He is an excellent planner.”
Jaime sighed again. The scarab was right, of course. The only person he could think of with the knowledge and skill to take this guy down without resorting to muscle or flare was Red Robin. Well, the knowledge, skill and the inclination to help Jaime anyway.
He was pretty sure the new Batman was more than off the table.
“I really didn’t want to bother him again. He freaked out last time I went to see him…” Jaime replied reluctantly. “I never know what to do when dudes cry. With chicks, you hug them, pat them on the back and tell them everything’s ok. With dudes I’m clueless. Do dudes go in for the back-patting thing?”
“I am unsure. You seemed to handle yourself well the last time, however. I would not be concerned,” the scarab assured Jaime.
“Do you even know where he is?” Jaime asked.
“Fifty three degrees, thirty three minutes north, ten degrees, two minutes east,” the scarab recited in his head.
“Where’s that?” Jaime asked as he slowed in approach of his house.
“Hamburg Germany,” the scarab answered.
Jaime shrugged. “Can you help me put together some files and surveillance footage of this guy so Robin has something to work with?” he asked.
“Red Robin,” the scarab corrected absently before agreeing to help.
They took two hours that night to put together the information. Jaime wrote up a preliminary profile of the guy and highlighted sections of the police reports he thought would be most helpful.
Robin may have left the Titans but that didn’t mean Jaime hadn’t both internalized the things Robin had taught him and come up with a few information gathering methods of his own. Well, not solely his own. He did have the help of the Posse.
The next afternoon, after class has let out, Jaime packed all the information he had gathered last night and took off for Europe. It took Jaime several hours to get across the ocean. As they flew, the scarab quizzed him on the information he would need for his next biology exam to pass the time.
They made it to Hamburg around eight at night. It was just going dark and Red Robin would probably be just about to suit up for the night.
Jaime found the building that the scarab had specified. He stopped about ten yards above it and looked down on the roof below. It was clearly some cheap boarding house or apartment building.
It was old and in disrepair. Shutters hung off of windows, the bricks in the walls were split from ice and ivy vines. The front porch to the building, three stories below, was made up of rotted wood covered over with chipped white paint that had never been washed.
Jaime hovered over the building for a few long moments, unsure about what to do next. He couldn’t very well go inside to the front office, if there even was a front office and Jaime doubted very much there was, and ask for Red Robin’s apartment number.
Sometimes Jaime really hated the level of secrecy that went along with being a member of the caped community.
The com link that Jaime always kept in his ear when he wasn’t in school buzzed suddenly as Jaime was trying to decide on a course of action. He flicked the line open reflexively.
“Blue Beetle, here,” he answered automatically.
“North side of the building. Third floor, first window on the left. Hurry but try not to draw any more attention to yourself,” Red Robin’s voice came through the line slightly reproving but not critical.
“Got it, Red,” Jaime responded and the line buzzed as it cut out.
Jaime flew around to what the scarab indicated was the north side of the building. He found the window already open for him when he got there. Jaime didn’t even hesitate for a second; he just flew into the window.
The room inside was only dimly lit by the fading dusk that streamed in through the window behind Jaime. Three of the four walls were covered in various different types of maps, all, seemingly, for the same area. Scrawled upon post-it notes liberally covered the maps and any bare areas on the walls. Even the single dining table that sat in the center of the small studio apartment was covered in papers, file folders and other electronic equipment Jaime couldn’t identify. Robin’s laptop was open off to one side and there was a half empty bottle of Gatorade next to it.
Robin stepped into view through the only door in the small studio apartment. He was buckling his belt around his waist as he walked into the room.
“How do you always know when I’m here?” Jaime found himself asking, feeling slightly petulant. It wasn’t that he wanted to surprise Robin. It was more just the wounded pride of a guy who couldn’t even sneak up on his little sister.
Robin just gave him a considering look, Jaime could feel his dull amusement across the room.
“It’s a secret,” Robin teased and Jaime resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Did you need something?”
Jaime felt slightly defensive at the sudden inquiry.
“How do you know this isn’t a social call? Maybe I want to check out the latest German blockbuster,” Jaime asked, aggressively.
Red Robin nodded to the contents of his hands.
“You’re carrying quite a few files. You’re favoring your right side and Wonder Girl called me yesterday and told me I should probably expect you as you were having some serious meta-problems. Plus, German cinema is terrible,” Red Robin replied and even though the new mask obscured even more of Robin’s face than the old one did, Jaime could still tell that Robin was lifting a curious eyebrow at him.
Jaime sighed in defeat and laid the whole thing out for Robin. Robin merely nodded, cleared a section of the table off and set to work examining the files and making plans. Three hours later, Jaime’s neck was stiff and his shoulders ached but he felt much better about life.
He had a plan. It was a good plan. It was a Robin-approved plan. It would work. He was sure of it.
Jaime let out a relieved breath of air and leaned back in his chair, rocking it back on two legs. He smiled at Robin from across the table before reaching his arms over his head to stretch. He only got half way before the bruised muscle around his ribs pulled painfully. He winced and leaned forward, setting the chair down on all four legs again.
“He get you in the ribs?” Robin asked sympathetically, grimacing with an understanding air.
“Yeah, pretty bad too,” Jaime answered. He let his uniform pull back until he was shirtless. “See?”
Robin narrowed his eyes under his mask and walked around the table. He knelt at Jaime’s side and pulled off his gauntlets before reaching out a hand to touch Jaime. He probed lightly at the bruise and Jaime winced, sharply.
Jaime hissed in pain and Robin wrinkled his nose up at Jaime in apology.
“Nothing’s broken at least. Hold on a second,” Robin ordered before slipping back behind the door he had first emerged from. It was the bathroom, Jaime had learned. Robin came back out a few moments later, clutching a small jar of something in his hand.
He held it out to show Jaime but it was an unmarked glass jar. Jaime just looked back at him in confusion.
“Bruise cream,” Robin explained, opening the jar and dipping his fingers into the white substance inside. “It’ll help.”
Robin smeared Jaime’s belly and ribs with the cool, wet cream and began to firmly rub it in.
“Cara~jo!” Jaime swore and Robin’s look was much less sympathetic this time.
“You’ll get used to it,” Robin informed him grimly, continuing with his task.
“Does it make the bruises go away?” Jaime asked through clenched teeth.
“Mmm, no. Not the cream itself. The cream is mostly a topical pain reliever. It’s the rubbing that makes the bruises fade. The clotted blood is dislodged and the bruises heal faster,” Robin explained and showed Jaime how to do it.
As Robin explained, Jaime thought about what he said for a long moment.
It was, almost quintessentially, Robin.
Robin couldn’t fix all of Jaime’s problems, or even make them go away. However, he always did seem to make them more manageable.
Jaime liked that.
A lot.
“You say I’ll get used to it?” Jaime asked, reflecting that Robin’s probing fingers did not, actually, hurt as much as they had before.
“Unfortunately, you will,” Robin agreed.
“Thanks. Not just for the bruise cream but for your help on this, I mean,” Jaime stammered and Robin smiled slightly.
“Not a problem, Blue. I’m happy to help,” Robin answered and he sounded so much like the old Robin, Jaime’s Robin, that Jaime felt his throat go tight.
“Could you…” Jaime began but hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Could you just call me Jaime? I don’t feel much like Blue Beetle at the moment. Does that make sense?”
Robin looked up at him and nodded slowly before returning to the bruises on Jaime’s side.
“It does. I don’t think I’ve ever really felt like Red Robin,” Robin admitted and went quiet as he grabbed a towel to wipe the cream from his hands and re-screw the cap to the jar of bruise cream.
“What should I call you then?” Jaime asked hesitantly.
Robin paused for a moment before breathing out a deep sigh. “Tim I guess. My name is Tim. It’s the only name I really have left. That’s my own, anyway.”
Jaime nodded and swallowed hard. “Thank you, Tim,” he said. “For all your help.”
Robin, Tim, turned to face Jaime again and smiled sadly at him. “You’re welcome, Jaime. Like I said, any time.”
Part Four
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Part: 3/6
Pairing: Tim Drake (Red Robin II)/Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle III)
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, violence later
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone is more than legal
Word Count: 2,300 words
Author's Notes: We interrupt your regularly scheduled Jewel of Sakar for something that has a happy ending. Third of six vignettes about Tim and Jaime. Written for prompt #6: heal for my Tim/Jaime claim on dcu_freeforall.
Part Three
Jaime Reyes was bruised. Not just slightly bruised, either. He was ‘bruised to hell,’ as Paco would say. He was bruised so badly he could almost feel the blood from the burst vessels seeping into his skin and staining it a dark purple. He didn’t even want to contemplate what his side looked like at the moment. Probably like one of Milagro’s early attempts at finger painting, when her favorite colors were purple and blue.
It was not a pretty thought.
Additionally, not only was Jaime Reyes bruised to hell, he was also pissed off and frustrated, as well.
There was a new meta running around in El Paso these days. A meta that neither he nor Kahji Dha could figure out how to take down. He gone toe to toe with the guy three times in the past two weeks and all he had managed to do was rack up some serious property damage bills.
Jaime was officially at a loss as to what to do.
He had tried the direct approach, going after the guy head on. When that had not worked he had tried the muscle approach. He had called Wonder Girl in for back up and they both went after him. Unfortunately, all that managed to accomplish was demolish a quarter of a city block. After that, Jaime had tried the psyche out approach. He caught up with the meta and hit him with everything he had until both he and the scarab were exhausted. The meta just popped out when the dust settled and proceeded to give Jaime a through walloping.
Now here he was, exhausted, bruised, and frustrated, running home to Mami with his tail between his legs.
It was disgusting.
He was a superhero now. He fought evil. He had worked with Batman and Superman. He had saved the world from certain doom. He had traveled to distant plants and through time.
And look at him now.
He couldn’t even take down one measly meta with the help of backup.
What would Ted Kord say?
What would Robin say, for that matter?
The thought made Jaime grimace.
It was Red Robin now but Jaime had trouble remembering that. Or even thinking of Robin as being some else now. Someone new. While he wasn’t an active member of the Titans anymore Jaime still respected Robin’s opinion. Mostly because no one else had ever bothered to give Jaime theirs. Batman and Superman had used him when they needed him, then patted him on the back and distractedly told him what a good job he had done, their attention already on other matters.
That or, you know, left him to die in space.
Whichever was most convenient at the time.
Jaime was seriously getting tired of all this crap. He had thought being a cape would get easier as time went on but the deeper he got into things the more frustrating and confusing everything became.
Jaime was getting tired of it. He was tired of getting beat up. He was tired of all the smashed buildings and injured people. He was tired of feeling like a bumbling amateur. Most of all he was tired of letting a stupid, smug hijo de la gran puta win all the time.
“It’s unacceptable,” the memory of Robin’s voice, as it instructed him, echoed in Jaime’s head and Jaime sighed in agreement.
It was unacceptable and it was more than past time Jaime figured out how to deal with this guy.
“Red Robin,” the scarab suggested solemnly as they flew home. “He helped you before. He is an excellent planner.”
Jaime sighed again. The scarab was right, of course. The only person he could think of with the knowledge and skill to take this guy down without resorting to muscle or flare was Red Robin. Well, the knowledge, skill and the inclination to help Jaime anyway.
He was pretty sure the new Batman was more than off the table.
“I really didn’t want to bother him again. He freaked out last time I went to see him…” Jaime replied reluctantly. “I never know what to do when dudes cry. With chicks, you hug them, pat them on the back and tell them everything’s ok. With dudes I’m clueless. Do dudes go in for the back-patting thing?”
“I am unsure. You seemed to handle yourself well the last time, however. I would not be concerned,” the scarab assured Jaime.
“Do you even know where he is?” Jaime asked.
“Fifty three degrees, thirty three minutes north, ten degrees, two minutes east,” the scarab recited in his head.
“Where’s that?” Jaime asked as he slowed in approach of his house.
“Hamburg Germany,” the scarab answered.
Jaime shrugged. “Can you help me put together some files and surveillance footage of this guy so Robin has something to work with?” he asked.
“Red Robin,” the scarab corrected absently before agreeing to help.
They took two hours that night to put together the information. Jaime wrote up a preliminary profile of the guy and highlighted sections of the police reports he thought would be most helpful.
Robin may have left the Titans but that didn’t mean Jaime hadn’t both internalized the things Robin had taught him and come up with a few information gathering methods of his own. Well, not solely his own. He did have the help of the Posse.
The next afternoon, after class has let out, Jaime packed all the information he had gathered last night and took off for Europe. It took Jaime several hours to get across the ocean. As they flew, the scarab quizzed him on the information he would need for his next biology exam to pass the time.
They made it to Hamburg around eight at night. It was just going dark and Red Robin would probably be just about to suit up for the night.
Jaime found the building that the scarab had specified. He stopped about ten yards above it and looked down on the roof below. It was clearly some cheap boarding house or apartment building.
It was old and in disrepair. Shutters hung off of windows, the bricks in the walls were split from ice and ivy vines. The front porch to the building, three stories below, was made up of rotted wood covered over with chipped white paint that had never been washed.
Jaime hovered over the building for a few long moments, unsure about what to do next. He couldn’t very well go inside to the front office, if there even was a front office and Jaime doubted very much there was, and ask for Red Robin’s apartment number.
Sometimes Jaime really hated the level of secrecy that went along with being a member of the caped community.
The com link that Jaime always kept in his ear when he wasn’t in school buzzed suddenly as Jaime was trying to decide on a course of action. He flicked the line open reflexively.
“Blue Beetle, here,” he answered automatically.
“North side of the building. Third floor, first window on the left. Hurry but try not to draw any more attention to yourself,” Red Robin’s voice came through the line slightly reproving but not critical.
“Got it, Red,” Jaime responded and the line buzzed as it cut out.
Jaime flew around to what the scarab indicated was the north side of the building. He found the window already open for him when he got there. Jaime didn’t even hesitate for a second; he just flew into the window.
The room inside was only dimly lit by the fading dusk that streamed in through the window behind Jaime. Three of the four walls were covered in various different types of maps, all, seemingly, for the same area. Scrawled upon post-it notes liberally covered the maps and any bare areas on the walls. Even the single dining table that sat in the center of the small studio apartment was covered in papers, file folders and other electronic equipment Jaime couldn’t identify. Robin’s laptop was open off to one side and there was a half empty bottle of Gatorade next to it.
Robin stepped into view through the only door in the small studio apartment. He was buckling his belt around his waist as he walked into the room.
“How do you always know when I’m here?” Jaime found himself asking, feeling slightly petulant. It wasn’t that he wanted to surprise Robin. It was more just the wounded pride of a guy who couldn’t even sneak up on his little sister.
Robin just gave him a considering look, Jaime could feel his dull amusement across the room.
“It’s a secret,” Robin teased and Jaime resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Did you need something?”
Jaime felt slightly defensive at the sudden inquiry.
“How do you know this isn’t a social call? Maybe I want to check out the latest German blockbuster,” Jaime asked, aggressively.
Red Robin nodded to the contents of his hands.
“You’re carrying quite a few files. You’re favoring your right side and Wonder Girl called me yesterday and told me I should probably expect you as you were having some serious meta-problems. Plus, German cinema is terrible,” Red Robin replied and even though the new mask obscured even more of Robin’s face than the old one did, Jaime could still tell that Robin was lifting a curious eyebrow at him.
Jaime sighed in defeat and laid the whole thing out for Robin. Robin merely nodded, cleared a section of the table off and set to work examining the files and making plans. Three hours later, Jaime’s neck was stiff and his shoulders ached but he felt much better about life.
He had a plan. It was a good plan. It was a Robin-approved plan. It would work. He was sure of it.
Jaime let out a relieved breath of air and leaned back in his chair, rocking it back on two legs. He smiled at Robin from across the table before reaching his arms over his head to stretch. He only got half way before the bruised muscle around his ribs pulled painfully. He winced and leaned forward, setting the chair down on all four legs again.
“He get you in the ribs?” Robin asked sympathetically, grimacing with an understanding air.
“Yeah, pretty bad too,” Jaime answered. He let his uniform pull back until he was shirtless. “See?”
Robin narrowed his eyes under his mask and walked around the table. He knelt at Jaime’s side and pulled off his gauntlets before reaching out a hand to touch Jaime. He probed lightly at the bruise and Jaime winced, sharply.
Jaime hissed in pain and Robin wrinkled his nose up at Jaime in apology.
“Nothing’s broken at least. Hold on a second,” Robin ordered before slipping back behind the door he had first emerged from. It was the bathroom, Jaime had learned. Robin came back out a few moments later, clutching a small jar of something in his hand.
He held it out to show Jaime but it was an unmarked glass jar. Jaime just looked back at him in confusion.
“Bruise cream,” Robin explained, opening the jar and dipping his fingers into the white substance inside. “It’ll help.”
Robin smeared Jaime’s belly and ribs with the cool, wet cream and began to firmly rub it in.
“Cara~jo!” Jaime swore and Robin’s look was much less sympathetic this time.
“You’ll get used to it,” Robin informed him grimly, continuing with his task.
“Does it make the bruises go away?” Jaime asked through clenched teeth.
“Mmm, no. Not the cream itself. The cream is mostly a topical pain reliever. It’s the rubbing that makes the bruises fade. The clotted blood is dislodged and the bruises heal faster,” Robin explained and showed Jaime how to do it.
As Robin explained, Jaime thought about what he said for a long moment.
It was, almost quintessentially, Robin.
Robin couldn’t fix all of Jaime’s problems, or even make them go away. However, he always did seem to make them more manageable.
Jaime liked that.
A lot.
“You say I’ll get used to it?” Jaime asked, reflecting that Robin’s probing fingers did not, actually, hurt as much as they had before.
“Unfortunately, you will,” Robin agreed.
“Thanks. Not just for the bruise cream but for your help on this, I mean,” Jaime stammered and Robin smiled slightly.
“Not a problem, Blue. I’m happy to help,” Robin answered and he sounded so much like the old Robin, Jaime’s Robin, that Jaime felt his throat go tight.
“Could you…” Jaime began but hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Could you just call me Jaime? I don’t feel much like Blue Beetle at the moment. Does that make sense?”
Robin looked up at him and nodded slowly before returning to the bruises on Jaime’s side.
“It does. I don’t think I’ve ever really felt like Red Robin,” Robin admitted and went quiet as he grabbed a towel to wipe the cream from his hands and re-screw the cap to the jar of bruise cream.
“What should I call you then?” Jaime asked hesitantly.
Robin paused for a moment before breathing out a deep sigh. “Tim I guess. My name is Tim. It’s the only name I really have left. That’s my own, anyway.”
Jaime nodded and swallowed hard. “Thank you, Tim,” he said. “For all your help.”
Robin, Tim, turned to face Jaime again and smiled sadly at him. “You’re welcome, Jaime. Like I said, any time.”
Part Four