Pussycat wasn't a kitten

[123youreit]

WHO: Tim Drake-Wayne and Dick Grayson
WHERE: Dick's place
WHEN: Last Thursday (the 13th) lala backlogging
WARNINGS: Bat angst, cat ears.
SUMMARY: Tim has a lot to brood about and sometimes he just needs his big brother to talk to. Also, he's part cat.
FORMAT: I'ma start in para but we do what we want.

Comments

[batmantled]

Maybe it was wrong to send that message. Wrong to open up that line of communication, before Tim did. Wrong to push even that much, when Tim’s not asking for it. What’s one more half-typed apology or hey Tim-, or you know how we used to- for the recycle bin.

But this time it’s too late to take it back before it does any damage, and as much as it sucks that it took Tim getting taken out to push it this far, maybe it’s finally time to get things aired things out a little.

People grow up. Things change. It’s just his bad luck that this time it happened while he wasn’t looking. That the Tim he got when he showed up wasn’t the one he left behind. That’s he’s not the brother Tim’s supposed to have. Not the one he deserves.

He’s been trying to be understanding. Trying to take those hints and stay out of it. Trying to let Tim be... whoever it is he is now, with whoever it is he’s with. Trying to ignore that selfish, treacherous voice that misses being someone Tim sought out for things that mattered. That just misses Tim.

So when Tim knocks he’s halfway through changing up the routine a little and sorting through that thigh-high pile of laundry that’s been lurking in the hallway since Christmas. There’s some security that has to be disabled, and when he gets the door open, he's... really more than a little surprised to see who's standing there.

"Nice hat," he reaches out to grab the pizza. "Hey, food too?"

[123youreit]

He just raises an eyebrow and carefully lets the hat comment drop and kill off that conversational avenue - they'll get to why he's wearing a hat, but he's not doing that on the doorstep. "I figured there was a fifty-fifty chance it'd be better than what you have in the fridge." And possibly, he owes Dick at least one meal, even if it is just pizza. It's piled high with pepperoni and melted cheese, mercifully bereft of any of the sometimes slightly odd combinations of toppings that Tim can favour, like Canadian bacon and artichokes.

He slips around Dick to step into the hallway, and takes in the piles of laundry. "... Maybe I should have brought some laundry detergent instead."

[batmantled]

"Considering what I've got in the fridge right now caps out at, uh, ice cubes I'd say we have a winner." There's something to the hat and the coat, but for now he'll let it slide. Already it's been almost a whole minute of being in the same room, and he's not quite ready yet to risk it on an interrogation.

He nudges one of the smaller piles with his foot and steps over it. "Anyway, there's a path here..." And a sofa, somewhere.

[123youreit]

"I knew it. I need to start sending you care hampers." But he's not the mom, remember. He picks his way carefully through the piles, following the rough path and keeping that eyebrow firmly raised, until he finally manages to find the sofa. At which point... he has to decide whether or not he's going to take his coat off. He worries his bottom lip for a couple of seconds, but - sitting around trying to talk while wearing a big winter coat is just ridiculous to contemplate. And he was planning to let Dick know about the... new features... eventually, anyway.

"Don't laugh." That's all the warning Dick gets before Tim slips off his coat, folding it neatly on the back of the sofa before pulling off his hat. It suddenly becomes really obvious why he was wearing them, as a black pair of cat ears perk up and twitch in annoyance, right in place of his normal ears, and a matching black cat tail swishes behind him.

Dick had really better not laugh.

[batmantled]

Dick just... has to stare, for a few seconds. Tim with cat ears. Tim with a tail.

And maybe Tim being here in the first place makes a little more sense.

"Wow," he says finally. "So that stuff that's been going around..."

[123youreit]

Points for not laughing (yet), Dick.

"Got to me, too, yeah." He sighs, sounding a little deflated, and sits on the sofa - having to be careful and pull his tail round so he doesn't sit on it, he ends up holding it in his lap instead, just... looking down at it with a slight frown. His ears droop, too, for a moment, betraying more emotion than he'd like.

"I think I'm better off than some of the people suffering effects, though. At least these aren't... too much trouble."

[batmantled]

He balances the pizza on the other cushion and then takes the arm of the sofa on the other side. Tim looks... okay, mostly, tail and ears aside. Maybe he's just embarrassed.

"I really hate this place," he offers, tugging open the box and pulling out a slice. Meals have really become one of those optional luxuries lately. Along with sleeping. And laundry. "I mean, you're sure it's the porter, right? We don't have to-"

Spend the next four hours running tests and setting up quarantine is what he means. He figures Tim gets the picture.

[123youreit]

Tim gets it, and lets out another, quiet sigh. "I'm sure it's something non-communicable, at least. I did some tests myself, and it hasn't travelled to anyone who's been in contact with me." Like, ahem, Kon - it would be hard work quarantining Tim with him around and no proof of any actual contagious element.

"It might be magic, if it's not the Porter itself." He offers, before neatly snagging a slice of the pizza for himself. On the plus side, there's no cat claws or pointy teeth showing up, so Dick can rest assured that his sofa won't be turned into a scratching post.

Maybe shed on. A little.

[batmantled]

"That's probably a good thing, right?" He takes another bite of pizza - no artichokes, god he loves this kid. "Porter stuff usually goes away on its own."

And maybe the fact that he can say it out loud now is a sign that he’s accepting how things are here. Being surrounded every day by riddles they can’t solve and problems they can’t fix. Waiting for the weird stuff to go back to normal by itself, instead of hitting the streets and slugging out the answers they need on their terms.

It’s an ugly, unsettling thought.

"So," he eyes Tim a little sideways. It’s probably better to just to take the plunge. "...New appendages excluded, you been okay? With everything?”

Terry is what he means, but he’ll let Tim be the one to take it there.

[123youreit]

"Mm," is all he says to the comment about the Porter. It's mostly an agreeing noise - as chaotic and disconcerting as the Porter's tricks can be, the fact that they tend to wear off by themselves is at once a relief and a frustration. Tim would feel better if there were something concrete he could do to fix it, every time, but after so long in the City he's also gotten used to just dealing with it and concentrating on other crimes, since they don't stop just because the imPort population is having a weird day.

There's a long moment of silence, disrupted only by the noise of pizza being eaten, during which Tim's new ears flatten towards his head in annoyance. Terry, ugh.

"It sucks to know that most of my potential futures are kind of bleak," he says, finally. "And I really am getting to hate being knocked out. But I'm dealing with it."

By making Terry wear silly hats. Such silly hats.

so laate ;_;

[batmantled]

"He’s a lot better now than he was before," and maybe that sounds like a justification, when Tim deserves better than that.

"Kind of hard to anticipate."

<3

[123youreit]

Dick is treated to a rather sharp look. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience, Dick. You didn't happen to fight him recently, did you?"

That almost doesn't count as a question, really.

[batmantled]

For a second it’s almost tempting to just sidestep and brush it off, but it’s out now, and it’s there, and pretending it isn’t seems counterproductive.

"We had a fight. I lost."

[123youreit]

Tim makes a small, discontented noise, and those cat ears twitch again to go with it. "I don't have to ask what you were fighting over, really, do I?" It doesn't take being trained by the world's greatest detective to work that out.

He sighs.

"I guess, if he managed to beat you, I feel a little better about him getting the drop on me."

[batmantled]

"You should see what he did to my ribs," and there’s more here that needs to be said; he needs something else to shake that tone out of Tim’s voice, before this conversation shuts down like so many of theirs seem to, these days.

"I didn't think I had a choice."

[123youreit]

"Of course you had a choice. I mean... I appreciate it, but I'd appreciate you not getting beaten up over my problems, too." He's kind of concerned about Dick's ribs, even though that was said jokingly - they all like to downplay injuries. "And you know I can make it clear that he stepped out of line myself."

Althought Terry is pretty stubborn. "... If he was being a jerk about it, though, which I can completely believe."