Fic: Reality or Nightmare
Title: Reality or Nightmare
Disclaimer: The norms
Rating: T
Story Synopsis: Tim doesn't know if this is reality or a dream, but if it's a dream, it's a nightmare.
Note: This is for the tumblr Tim Drake week.
Prompt: Day 3: Dream / Reality
Tim doesn’t know if this is reality or a dream, but if it’s a dream, it’s a nightmare. He hits the ground hard, and groans. He doesn’t register the pain, which is probably a bad sign, but Tim doesn’t have time to worry about that right now. He needs to get up and keep moving.
They’re coming for him, and he’s out of anything useful to fight back with. His only option is finding an escape, although Tim knows that there’s only so long he can keep going with his current injuries. He doesn’t know what the hell happened or why they’re after him, but that hardly matters at the moment. All Tim knows is that if he doesn’t get up and find some way to lose his pursuers; his family is going to have another former Robin to bury, and they don’t need another dead Robin on their conscience.
The fact that his pursuers happen to be his family is also irrelevant. Tim assumes there was some sort of incident while Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood were on patrol…most likely something involving Poison Ivy, Joker, or Scarecrow, or possibly all three, if the murderous intent in the other three is any indicator. Tim doesn’t remember anything before that first hit. He was standing on a rooftop, trying to track Robin’s location when a heavy boot connected with the back of his head. He never even heard Batman arrive. He careened into Red Hood’s fist, which sent him flying into Nightwing’s elbow.
From there it was a long series of attempting to block and dodge punches and kicks from all three of them, and failing more often than not. Tim managed to make a run for it after Red Hood pistol whipped him and sent him crashing down a fire escape, but he honestly doesn’t even know where he is anymore. The streets and buildings are blurring together and his lungs are burning with the need for air. He hears the distinct sound of a grappling gun being fired somewhere above him and his heart rate increases dramatically.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. He can’t lose them. Tim’s good, but he’s not this good. Not when his left shoulder is dislocated, his right knee feels like it’s going to buckle under his weight any second, and his vision keeps swimming. The blood dripping down his face from his hairline isn’t helping matters, and Tim can’t seem to catch his breath. He needs to rest, but there’s no time. If this is a dream, he desperately wants to wake up, and if this is reality…well, Tim just hopes that this isn’t reality.
He stops dead, nearly slamming into Nightwing, who has blocked his path. Tim spins on his heel, narrowly dodging Red Hood. Jason hasn’t shot at him yet, though Tim doesn’t know why. Jason has been using rubber bullets since he’s started regularly patrolling with them, but at this range even rubber bullets would definitely do some serious damage.
Tim doesn’t make it very far before Batman slams into his back. Tim’s head thuds against the ground and it takes him a second to reorient himself. There’s a thick glove clad hand buried in his cape, dragging him back, and Tim scrambles to tear it away. He manages to escape and makes a break for it, but he doesn’t get very far before Jason knocks his feet out from under him again.
Suddenly, smoke envelops the entire area and Tim chokes on it. He shakily gets to his feet and hits into a wall. There’s movement from behind him. Someone is closing in on him, but Tim can’t tell who the shadow belongs to. He claws at the wall, trying to find a handhold, a lose brick, or something…anything to aid him in this moment. His pulse is pounding in his ears, or maybe that’s just his headache. Tim doesn’t know anymore.
His hands are bare and bleeding, but that doesn’t make any sense. He was wearing gloves only a moment ago. Tim’s breath comes out in short rasps, and he’d scream if he thought it would do any good. He’s failed and there’s nothing that he can do but accept whatever is going to happen next. He turns to the slowly approaching individual, bloody fists clenched and teeth grinding together.
Abruptly, there’s a flash of light, the deafening crack of thunder, and a sudden downpour that smothers the smoke. Tim’s drenched within seconds, but the figure is finally illuminated and he sees Robin approaching him, hands held out in a placating gesture. “Stand down, we need to go now!”
Tim tries to catch his breath, but instead coughs. He feels like he’s drowning on the raindrops cascading down his face. He shakes the water out of his eyes, ignoring how it mixes with the blood still seeping down his brow. “Where are the others?”
“There’s no time. Come with me now.” There’s something off about Damian’s voice. It isn’t fear, or his normal impatience. It’s…Tim doesn’t know what it is. He expected exasperation, taunting, or even criticism. This…this is new, and problematic.
Tim shakes his head. There’s something wrong here. He doesn’t know if Damian was exposed to whatever has caused Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood to attack him. It doesn’t seem like it. After all, the others just came out of nowhere; they didn’t say a word, and they certainly didn’t try to lure him anywhere. No, they just attacked. However, this is Damian, and Damian has always been different. He’s always been an unknown factor. Tim’s wary, but even he knows that they can’t just stay here.
They have to get moving before the others return. However, that doesn’t exactly make sense, either. Tim needs to know where the other three are and where they went, but he knows better than to waste time asking such questions. Still, Tim doesn’t understand why the three of them would abandon their target. Unless…unless Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood didn’t abandon their target. Tim wants to quickly glance around, find where they’re hiding and make a break for it, but he knows that would be too obvious, so instead he does what he does best.
Tim slowly approaches Damian. He makes a show of keeping his eyes locked on the kid at all times. Once he’s close enough, Tim moves as fast as he possibly can. He blocks Damian’s attempt to immobilize him, grabs a hold of Robin’s cape, and wraps it around him. Tim tugs the fabric as hard as he can, and uses it to position Damian perfectly. “I’m sorry,” Tim whispers before slamming his head into Damian’s, and shoving him away.
Tim sways as he takes off running, not even bothering to listen to the sound of Damian hitting the ground. The others have to be close behind him now, and he’s wasted valuable time. His heart is still pounding and his chest hurts from lack of oxygen. His vision dims again, but Tim pushes through it and keeps going. His boots can barely get enough traction on the wet cement and he nearly falls numerous times. Tim is only able to keep himself upright due to extensive years of training. He picks up speed as he blinks water out of his eyes and tries to think of some place to run to.
His mind blanks, and he’s pretty sure that he’s wasting precious breath panicking. Tim uses a light pole to help him make a sharp turn down a side street. His foot catches on the edge of an uneven sidewalk, and he slams into the pavement in the middle of the street. Bright lights bear down on him and his ears ring with the sound of a car horn. He’s too tired to stand or roll out of the way, so he simply shuts his eyes and waits for the pain to be over.
However, before the car can hit him, two strong arms wrap around him. “It’s okay; you’re safe now, little brother.” As Tim’s head lolls to the side, and the world around him goes dark, he’s struck with the thought that whatever Nightwing was hit with must have worn off, because that was definitely Dick’s voice.
XYZXYZ
Tim’s eyes open an indeterminate amount of time later, and he just stares at the dark ceiling of the cave. It takes him a second to realize that there’s a heavy hand in his and he looks down to see Dick clutching his hand with a white knuckle grip. He glances over at Dick’s face only to see that his older brother is fast asleep. Tim shifts, trying to assess the damage to his body, but just trying to move even that much sends a jolt of pain through his entire body.
His sudden gasp of pain has Dick bolting upright and leaning over him. “Finally, you’re awake. You gave us quite a scare, little brother.”
“What…” Tim coughs to clear his throat, and Dick immediately hands him a bottle of water. He downs as much of it as he can and works his throat a few times before trying to speak again. “What happened?”
Dick stares at him for a long moment, seemingly worried. “What do you remember?”
Tim thinks about the attack, about running, about nearly dying, and decides to just shake his head. He doesn’t know what’s real anymore, because it doesn’t make sense that Dick was there to save him. Not when he was one of the people who attacked him in the first place, and there are too many gaps…too many things that don’t make sense, so he settles on, “Not much,” and lets Dick tell him the rest.
Dick sighs heavily as he holds onto Tim’s hand tighter. “You were exposed to a new form of Scarecrow toxin.”
Tim breathes out a breath. There’s still a lot of information that he doesn’t have yet, but at least certain thinks are starting to make sense now. “Well, that explains a lot.”
Dick stares at him for a long moment, before launching into an explanation of what exactly happened. “At first, you were extremely uncoordinated and unsteady on your feet. We thought that we had plenty of time to get you back to the cave. However, we didn’t get very far before you had started to lose focus. You insisted that you could make it, but I should have known better.”
Tim coughs again and swallows. “Not your fault.”
Dick merely shakes his head, before continuing. “Yeah, well, after that, I assume whatever hallucinations you were having must have gotten pretty bad, because you ran away from us in terror. We caught up to you a couple of times, but you were fighting pretty hard to lose us.”
Tim nods, because that fits certain things that he remembers. “Yeah, I vaguely remember running, but what about the injuries?”
Dick sighs again as he shakes his head. “I’m not entirely sure how you got all of your injuries. I can tell you that some of them were self inflicted, but I’m pretty sure a portion of them were from when you slammed into walls and fire escapes while you were running away. You’re damn good at evading us, little brother, even while drugged.”
Tim’s not entirely sure if that’s a compliment or not, especially since he certainly didn’t think that a few hours ago. “Thanks, I think.”
Dick huffs out a breath as he rubs his thumb over Tim’s wrist. It takes a second for Tim to realize that Dick is feeling his pulse. “That said, Damian did finally manage to corner you after a while. At first, we thought he had gotten through to you, but then you attacked him and managed to knock him out. Trust me; he wasn’t pleased about that, by the way. Anyway, I found you shortly after that. You had collapsed in the middle of the street and were about to be hit by an oncoming vehicle.” Dick takes a deep shuddering breath before continuing. “I almost didn’t get to you in time.”
Tim squeezes Dick’s hand and gives him the most sincere smile that he can muster right now. “But you did.”
Dick nods, but he’s still rubbing Tim’s pulse point in his wrist rhythmically. “Anyway, you passed out shortly after that, but your breathing, heart rate, and temperature were all elevated. By the time I got you back to the cave, you were convulsing, and then your heart stopped. I…I didn’t think you were gonna make it, Timmy.”
Tim’s not exactly surprised. He remembers the chest pain and elevated heart rate. Not to mention, the way everything hurts right now, despite the fog of pain killers. Tim merely blinks a few times and gestures for Dick to come closer. Once he has him in range, Tim gathers his big brother into a hug, despite the pain. “It’s okay. I’m still breathing. I’m here. You got there in time, and I’m fine.”
Dick tightens the embrace, but only marginally, knowing exactly how much pain Tim is in. “What were you seeing, little brother? Why did you run from us?”
Tim merely shakes his head. None of them need to know the truth. “I don’t remember, and it doesn’t matter. You saved me, and that’s all that counts.”
Dick pets his hair before releasing him. “If you’re up for it, I’ll go tell the others your awake now.”
Tim smiles softly. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He yawns as he snuggles back into the pillow behind his head. “I don’t know how long I’ll be awake, though.”
Dick pats his arm affectionately. “Just do your best to wait for Alfred and Bruce, okay?”
Tim nods, and does his best to stifle another yawn. “Love ya, Dick.”
Dick smiles before he turns to head up the stairs. “Love ya, too, little brother.”
Tim does his best not to jostle any of his injuries as he lies back and waits for the others. He yawns once again as he considers that, even with the pain, Tim definitely prefers reality over that nightmare.
The End
Disclaimer: The norms
Rating: T
Story Synopsis: Tim doesn't know if this is reality or a dream, but if it's a dream, it's a nightmare.
Note: This is for the tumblr Tim Drake week.
Prompt: Day 3: Dream / Reality
Tim doesn’t know if this is reality or a dream, but if it’s a dream, it’s a nightmare. He hits the ground hard, and groans. He doesn’t register the pain, which is probably a bad sign, but Tim doesn’t have time to worry about that right now. He needs to get up and keep moving.
They’re coming for him, and he’s out of anything useful to fight back with. His only option is finding an escape, although Tim knows that there’s only so long he can keep going with his current injuries. He doesn’t know what the hell happened or why they’re after him, but that hardly matters at the moment. All Tim knows is that if he doesn’t get up and find some way to lose his pursuers; his family is going to have another former Robin to bury, and they don’t need another dead Robin on their conscience.
The fact that his pursuers happen to be his family is also irrelevant. Tim assumes there was some sort of incident while Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood were on patrol…most likely something involving Poison Ivy, Joker, or Scarecrow, or possibly all three, if the murderous intent in the other three is any indicator. Tim doesn’t remember anything before that first hit. He was standing on a rooftop, trying to track Robin’s location when a heavy boot connected with the back of his head. He never even heard Batman arrive. He careened into Red Hood’s fist, which sent him flying into Nightwing’s elbow.
From there it was a long series of attempting to block and dodge punches and kicks from all three of them, and failing more often than not. Tim managed to make a run for it after Red Hood pistol whipped him and sent him crashing down a fire escape, but he honestly doesn’t even know where he is anymore. The streets and buildings are blurring together and his lungs are burning with the need for air. He hears the distinct sound of a grappling gun being fired somewhere above him and his heart rate increases dramatically.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. He can’t lose them. Tim’s good, but he’s not this good. Not when his left shoulder is dislocated, his right knee feels like it’s going to buckle under his weight any second, and his vision keeps swimming. The blood dripping down his face from his hairline isn’t helping matters, and Tim can’t seem to catch his breath. He needs to rest, but there’s no time. If this is a dream, he desperately wants to wake up, and if this is reality…well, Tim just hopes that this isn’t reality.
He stops dead, nearly slamming into Nightwing, who has blocked his path. Tim spins on his heel, narrowly dodging Red Hood. Jason hasn’t shot at him yet, though Tim doesn’t know why. Jason has been using rubber bullets since he’s started regularly patrolling with them, but at this range even rubber bullets would definitely do some serious damage.
Tim doesn’t make it very far before Batman slams into his back. Tim’s head thuds against the ground and it takes him a second to reorient himself. There’s a thick glove clad hand buried in his cape, dragging him back, and Tim scrambles to tear it away. He manages to escape and makes a break for it, but he doesn’t get very far before Jason knocks his feet out from under him again.
Suddenly, smoke envelops the entire area and Tim chokes on it. He shakily gets to his feet and hits into a wall. There’s movement from behind him. Someone is closing in on him, but Tim can’t tell who the shadow belongs to. He claws at the wall, trying to find a handhold, a lose brick, or something…anything to aid him in this moment. His pulse is pounding in his ears, or maybe that’s just his headache. Tim doesn’t know anymore.
His hands are bare and bleeding, but that doesn’t make any sense. He was wearing gloves only a moment ago. Tim’s breath comes out in short rasps, and he’d scream if he thought it would do any good. He’s failed and there’s nothing that he can do but accept whatever is going to happen next. He turns to the slowly approaching individual, bloody fists clenched and teeth grinding together.
Abruptly, there’s a flash of light, the deafening crack of thunder, and a sudden downpour that smothers the smoke. Tim’s drenched within seconds, but the figure is finally illuminated and he sees Robin approaching him, hands held out in a placating gesture. “Stand down, we need to go now!”
Tim tries to catch his breath, but instead coughs. He feels like he’s drowning on the raindrops cascading down his face. He shakes the water out of his eyes, ignoring how it mixes with the blood still seeping down his brow. “Where are the others?”
“There’s no time. Come with me now.” There’s something off about Damian’s voice. It isn’t fear, or his normal impatience. It’s…Tim doesn’t know what it is. He expected exasperation, taunting, or even criticism. This…this is new, and problematic.
Tim shakes his head. There’s something wrong here. He doesn’t know if Damian was exposed to whatever has caused Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood to attack him. It doesn’t seem like it. After all, the others just came out of nowhere; they didn’t say a word, and they certainly didn’t try to lure him anywhere. No, they just attacked. However, this is Damian, and Damian has always been different. He’s always been an unknown factor. Tim’s wary, but even he knows that they can’t just stay here.
They have to get moving before the others return. However, that doesn’t exactly make sense, either. Tim needs to know where the other three are and where they went, but he knows better than to waste time asking such questions. Still, Tim doesn’t understand why the three of them would abandon their target. Unless…unless Batman, Nightwing, and Red Hood didn’t abandon their target. Tim wants to quickly glance around, find where they’re hiding and make a break for it, but he knows that would be too obvious, so instead he does what he does best.
Tim slowly approaches Damian. He makes a show of keeping his eyes locked on the kid at all times. Once he’s close enough, Tim moves as fast as he possibly can. He blocks Damian’s attempt to immobilize him, grabs a hold of Robin’s cape, and wraps it around him. Tim tugs the fabric as hard as he can, and uses it to position Damian perfectly. “I’m sorry,” Tim whispers before slamming his head into Damian’s, and shoving him away.
Tim sways as he takes off running, not even bothering to listen to the sound of Damian hitting the ground. The others have to be close behind him now, and he’s wasted valuable time. His heart is still pounding and his chest hurts from lack of oxygen. His vision dims again, but Tim pushes through it and keeps going. His boots can barely get enough traction on the wet cement and he nearly falls numerous times. Tim is only able to keep himself upright due to extensive years of training. He picks up speed as he blinks water out of his eyes and tries to think of some place to run to.
His mind blanks, and he’s pretty sure that he’s wasting precious breath panicking. Tim uses a light pole to help him make a sharp turn down a side street. His foot catches on the edge of an uneven sidewalk, and he slams into the pavement in the middle of the street. Bright lights bear down on him and his ears ring with the sound of a car horn. He’s too tired to stand or roll out of the way, so he simply shuts his eyes and waits for the pain to be over.
However, before the car can hit him, two strong arms wrap around him. “It’s okay; you’re safe now, little brother.” As Tim’s head lolls to the side, and the world around him goes dark, he’s struck with the thought that whatever Nightwing was hit with must have worn off, because that was definitely Dick’s voice.
XYZXYZ
Tim’s eyes open an indeterminate amount of time later, and he just stares at the dark ceiling of the cave. It takes him a second to realize that there’s a heavy hand in his and he looks down to see Dick clutching his hand with a white knuckle grip. He glances over at Dick’s face only to see that his older brother is fast asleep. Tim shifts, trying to assess the damage to his body, but just trying to move even that much sends a jolt of pain through his entire body.
His sudden gasp of pain has Dick bolting upright and leaning over him. “Finally, you’re awake. You gave us quite a scare, little brother.”
“What…” Tim coughs to clear his throat, and Dick immediately hands him a bottle of water. He downs as much of it as he can and works his throat a few times before trying to speak again. “What happened?”
Dick stares at him for a long moment, seemingly worried. “What do you remember?”
Tim thinks about the attack, about running, about nearly dying, and decides to just shake his head. He doesn’t know what’s real anymore, because it doesn’t make sense that Dick was there to save him. Not when he was one of the people who attacked him in the first place, and there are too many gaps…too many things that don’t make sense, so he settles on, “Not much,” and lets Dick tell him the rest.
Dick sighs heavily as he holds onto Tim’s hand tighter. “You were exposed to a new form of Scarecrow toxin.”
Tim breathes out a breath. There’s still a lot of information that he doesn’t have yet, but at least certain thinks are starting to make sense now. “Well, that explains a lot.”
Dick stares at him for a long moment, before launching into an explanation of what exactly happened. “At first, you were extremely uncoordinated and unsteady on your feet. We thought that we had plenty of time to get you back to the cave. However, we didn’t get very far before you had started to lose focus. You insisted that you could make it, but I should have known better.”
Tim coughs again and swallows. “Not your fault.”
Dick merely shakes his head, before continuing. “Yeah, well, after that, I assume whatever hallucinations you were having must have gotten pretty bad, because you ran away from us in terror. We caught up to you a couple of times, but you were fighting pretty hard to lose us.”
Tim nods, because that fits certain things that he remembers. “Yeah, I vaguely remember running, but what about the injuries?”
Dick sighs again as he shakes his head. “I’m not entirely sure how you got all of your injuries. I can tell you that some of them were self inflicted, but I’m pretty sure a portion of them were from when you slammed into walls and fire escapes while you were running away. You’re damn good at evading us, little brother, even while drugged.”
Tim’s not entirely sure if that’s a compliment or not, especially since he certainly didn’t think that a few hours ago. “Thanks, I think.”
Dick huffs out a breath as he rubs his thumb over Tim’s wrist. It takes a second for Tim to realize that Dick is feeling his pulse. “That said, Damian did finally manage to corner you after a while. At first, we thought he had gotten through to you, but then you attacked him and managed to knock him out. Trust me; he wasn’t pleased about that, by the way. Anyway, I found you shortly after that. You had collapsed in the middle of the street and were about to be hit by an oncoming vehicle.” Dick takes a deep shuddering breath before continuing. “I almost didn’t get to you in time.”
Tim squeezes Dick’s hand and gives him the most sincere smile that he can muster right now. “But you did.”
Dick nods, but he’s still rubbing Tim’s pulse point in his wrist rhythmically. “Anyway, you passed out shortly after that, but your breathing, heart rate, and temperature were all elevated. By the time I got you back to the cave, you were convulsing, and then your heart stopped. I…I didn’t think you were gonna make it, Timmy.”
Tim’s not exactly surprised. He remembers the chest pain and elevated heart rate. Not to mention, the way everything hurts right now, despite the fog of pain killers. Tim merely blinks a few times and gestures for Dick to come closer. Once he has him in range, Tim gathers his big brother into a hug, despite the pain. “It’s okay. I’m still breathing. I’m here. You got there in time, and I’m fine.”
Dick tightens the embrace, but only marginally, knowing exactly how much pain Tim is in. “What were you seeing, little brother? Why did you run from us?”
Tim merely shakes his head. None of them need to know the truth. “I don’t remember, and it doesn’t matter. You saved me, and that’s all that counts.”
Dick pets his hair before releasing him. “If you’re up for it, I’ll go tell the others your awake now.”
Tim smiles softly. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He yawns as he snuggles back into the pillow behind his head. “I don’t know how long I’ll be awake, though.”
Dick pats his arm affectionately. “Just do your best to wait for Alfred and Bruce, okay?”
Tim nods, and does his best to stifle another yawn. “Love ya, Dick.”
Dick smiles before he turns to head up the stairs. “Love ya, too, little brother.”
Tim does his best not to jostle any of his injuries as he lies back and waits for the others. He yawns once again as he considers that, even with the pain, Tim definitely prefers reality over that nightmare.
The End