Not many would describe the Batcave as being 'homey', 'cozy' or any other adjective that denoted 'warm and welcoming'. Tim wasn't just anyone however
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Alfred balances the tray of cocoa and cookies in one hand - deftly, mind you - and returns the embrace, one-armed, quite warmly for a moment before clearing his throat again. "Here now, Master Timothy," he says softly, "your cocoa is getting cold..."
Pretty much the motto around her. It's a reassuring bit of bedrock to find actually.
Untangling himself from Alfred, Tim straighten his scored and torn vest. The armored inner lining is showing and his cape has a number of conspicuous bullet holes.
Taking the cocoa and an oatmeal cookie. "Thanks Alfred. It's good to be home again."
His condition is not lost on Alfred, who, after setting down the tray on a nearby desk, tut-tuts over the costume. "I trust," he remarks sternly, "that you have secured professional medical review of your well-being?"
In the background can be heard a rumble, growing louder as it nears.
Indicating the bandage work Flamebird did on the back of his left arm, Tim nods.
"I had to go through some plate glass earlier and picked up a shallow cut up my arm, but Flamebird didn't think it needed stitches. Just allot of butterfly bandages and gauze."
The oatmeal cookie is gone. Tim begins to realize just how hungry he let himself get and reaches to grab two more.
"If you have such a stout appetite, Master Timothy, may I suggest a supper, once you have tidied yourself, in the breakfast room upstairs?" He tilts his head, adding as the Batmobile lights appear in the tunnel, "Master Richard will no doubt wish to join you."
Alfred hesitates a fraction of a moment before turning toward the stairs; the Batmobile enters the far side of the Cave. "Dum vita est spes est, Timothy," he replies just above the sound of the big vehicle's engine winding down.
Dick climbs out of the cockpit and leans against the wheel, tugging off the cowl. His features are drenched.
Dick's face getting revealed under the cowl was much weirder than he thought it might be. No, that wasn't right. It actually worked, but it was also jarring in context.
"Hey."
That sounded pretty lame.
Words. He lacked words. He's been Johnny on the Spot with words, actions and decisions all night long and now the best he can do is... 'Hey'. Lame.
Dick crosses the floor in a few quick strides and sweeps Tim up in a big embrace. He might be dressed like Bruce, but he's a little more open with his emotions. No words, just a tight hug.
The sturdy barriers and walls Tim put up all night long in order to deal come tumbling down and returns the bear-hug, albeit while his feet dangle a few feet from the ground.
There may be some more of the 'wet face' that he couldn't account for as well.
The hug is going to take a long, long time to finish. Dick, in fact, will speak before letting go of the younger man, muttering, "Know I'll remember you're a pain in the ass, but for right now...holy crap, it's good to see you."
Dick gives Tim a good, solid noogie before letting him go to start removing the Batsuit. "Neron?" he echoes quietly. "And Stephanie's back. What the hell happened? No pun intended."
Tim falls back into Bruce's seat at the main console to the Batcomputer. The news of Steph stealing the strength from his already tired legs.
"Steph's...alive?" Whoa.
Focus.
"I made some kind of ...deal. I can't remember all of the details, but I know I ended up being owned by Neron. I remember being there, but it's like trying to remember a nightmare. I don't know how long I was gone, but I know that Shiva and Dragon followed me and beat Neron at his own game to free me."
Tim's brown scrunches as he tries to recall details.
"We walked up this long dark road until we came up out of the ground and found ourselves in an alleyway down near the Gotham Boudin Bakery getting jumped by Cicada, Electrocutioner, Zzazz, Candyman and some other loosers."
Tim smacks his head in sudden realization.
"Oh jeez, I forgot! I left Candyman tied up with a broken leg ontop of the bakery. We should let the GCPD know."
Oh, and the aroma of chocolate chip cookies is in the air too.
A throat is cleared, and then with only the barest quiver in it, an English voice says, "Welcome home, young sir."
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He wants to greet Alfred. Say 'Hi'..say something, but his voice is lost to him right now.
His face is oddly wet. Not sure why, but Tim closes the distance between them and catches the taller man in a hug that communicates volumes.
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Stiff upper lip, all that.
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It's a reassuring bit of bedrock to find actually.
Untangling himself from Alfred, Tim straighten his scored and torn vest. The armored inner lining is showing and his cape has a number of conspicuous bullet holes.
Taking the cocoa and an oatmeal cookie. "Thanks Alfred. It's good to be home again."
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In the background can be heard a rumble, growing louder as it nears.
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"I had to go through some plate glass earlier and picked up a shallow cut up my arm, but Flamebird didn't think it needed stitches. Just allot of butterfly bandages and gauze."
The oatmeal cookie is gone. Tim begins to realize just how hungry he let himself get and reaches to grab two more.
"You should see the other guys." he adds.
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But...
"I..I think I should wait. I.."
Ok this was dumb. Why was he dancing around the subject?
"Alfred, people are telling me that Bruce is either dead or at least missing."
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Dick climbs out of the cockpit and leans against the wheel, tugging off the cowl. His features are drenched.
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No, that wasn't right.
It actually worked, but it was also jarring in context.
"Hey."
That sounded pretty lame.
Words. He lacked words. He's been Johnny on the Spot with words, actions and decisions all night long and now the best he can do is... 'Hey'. Lame.
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Screw that.
Dick crosses the floor in a few quick strides and sweeps Tim up in a big embrace. He might be dressed like Bruce, but he's a little more open with his emotions. No words, just a tight hug.
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There may be some more of the 'wet face' that he couldn't account for as well.
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"You've got no idea. I'm still getting used to it myself."
Family. So very good to be with family again.
His face darkens some.
"Dick, I don't remember everything, but I'm pretty sure I screwed up somewhere. Screwed up bad. Neron had me for a while."
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"Steph's...alive?" Whoa.
Focus.
"I made some kind of ...deal. I can't remember all of the details, but I know I ended up being owned by Neron. I remember being there, but it's like trying to remember a nightmare. I don't know how long I was gone, but I know that Shiva and Dragon followed me and beat Neron at his own game to free me."
Tim's brown scrunches as he tries to recall details.
"We walked up this long dark road until we came up out of the ground and found ourselves in an alleyway down near the Gotham Boudin Bakery getting jumped by Cicada, Electrocutioner, Zzazz, Candyman and some other loosers."
Tim smacks his head in sudden realization.
"Oh jeez, I forgot! I left Candyman tied up with a broken leg ontop of the bakery. We should let the GCPD know."
Reply
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