Fic: Bringing Him Home Prologue, Tim/Dick, NC17
NOT a work in progress. All parts to be posted tonight. :)
Title: Bringing Him Home Prologue
Author: Lara
Rating: light NC17
Word Count: 11,296 (yeah, you read that right--that would be the whole story)
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: See the author's note at the end of the prologue as I don't want to give anything away.
Content: Angst, slash relationship and tiny bit of sex, probable squicky relationship, more angst, violence, language, and still more angst
Pairing: Dick/Tim
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade, who isn't in this fic, would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for wtf27, prompt #17, Trading Places.
He was too late--again. Cursing softly, he dropped to one knee in the dark, hot alley next to the bleeding drug dealer. The neat bullet hole in the center of the man's forehead told him it was futile, but he still had to check for a pulse. Slowly rising to his feet, he called it in.
"Renegade?" came the knowing voice on the other end of the comm link.
"...Yes."
"It's not your fault,'Wing."
He didn't answer, simply shut down the link and looked up, past the crumbling brick building he was standing next to, past the gargoyles high atop it, to the moon. Across it the symbol of the bat flew, and he said a silent prayer that his father wasn't being signaled to the scene of another atrocity caused by his no longer deceased son.
Heavy hearted, yet needing to know, he tapped back on the link and asked Oracle what was up. He was relieved to hear it was just a bungled burglary by the Mad Hatter, and that Batman had released him from patrol for the rest of the night.
Ten minutes later, he slipped through the window of his apartment on the top floor of a building high enough that only someone in the penthouse of Wayne Tower could see him, and peeled off his mask before hitting the light switch.
He wasn't surprised to find Robin curled on the couch asleep, but he didn't like the sight of the fresh bruise mottling the skin of his upturned cheek. He liked even less the discarded black 'R' shuriken that sat on the coffee table, revealing who had hit the kid.
What else Renegade had done to the youngest Bat, Nightwing wasn't sure he wanted to know and as he was trying to come up with a plausible lie for Batman, Robin woke up.
"Jay?"
"Hey, Tim."
Jason dropped into a crouch as the seventeen year old knuckled his eyes and winced at the pain in the bruised one, then reached out and brushed his hands over the boy's messy hair. "You okay?"
Tim's eyes slid away from his older brother and he sat up. "Yeah, just needed a place to crash."
He always came here rather than going home...after.
"You gonna tell me what Renegade did to you?"
"Hit me."
Snorting, Jason rose and went to get some ice. "We both know better than that. Just tell the son of a bitch 'no'."
"Maybe I don't want to," came the quiet reply.
Tossing Tim an icepack, Jason shook his head in dismay. "Tim, you gotta stop this. He's playing with you to hurt Bruce."
As the kid placed the ice on his eye, his lower lip came out in a militant pout, and the other young man rolled his eyes. "You can crash here for the rest of the night--just let Babs know so she can tell Alfred." It was what he always said, because he couldn't force Tim to go home and face Bruce.
"...Thanks, Jay."
"Don't thank me, little brother. Just think about what our demented big brother really wants, okay?"
Not expecting a response, Jason headed to his bedroom for a shower. It had been a long night and he really hadn't planned to spend it thinking about what Dick and Tim were doing between trading blows.
Or why Tim craved their elder brother's attention so much.
End Prologue
Author's Note: While in Scotland in June I decided to try writing the wtf27 prompt "trading places" and came up with this idea of Dick being the one killed by the Joker and Jason being the one who lived, and when Dick came back he was all pissed off at Bruce and taking it out on Tim. It was supposed to just be a little plotless smutfic.
And then the fic just wouldn't end...
For reference, Dick died for slightly different reasons that I barely touch on, came back the same way Jason did, responded pretty much the same way Jason did, but whether or not there was Infinite Crisis or the boys and Bruce went off on their little round-the-world cruise or anything, I don't know and it really doesn't matter. Oh, and the name Red Hood is stupid, so he's Renegade, which is much cooler. Outfit minus the helmet is the same.
Also, Alfred rules.
Title: Bringing Him Home Prologue
Author: Lara
Rating: light NC17
Word Count: 11,296 (yeah, you read that right--that would be the whole story)
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: See the author's note at the end of the prologue as I don't want to give anything away.
Content: Angst, slash relationship and tiny bit of sex, probable squicky relationship, more angst, violence, language, and still more angst
Pairing: Dick/Tim
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade, who isn't in this fic, would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for wtf27, prompt #17, Trading Places.
He was too late--again. Cursing softly, he dropped to one knee in the dark, hot alley next to the bleeding drug dealer. The neat bullet hole in the center of the man's forehead told him it was futile, but he still had to check for a pulse. Slowly rising to his feet, he called it in.
"Renegade?" came the knowing voice on the other end of the comm link.
"...Yes."
"It's not your fault,'Wing."
He didn't answer, simply shut down the link and looked up, past the crumbling brick building he was standing next to, past the gargoyles high atop it, to the moon. Across it the symbol of the bat flew, and he said a silent prayer that his father wasn't being signaled to the scene of another atrocity caused by his no longer deceased son.
Heavy hearted, yet needing to know, he tapped back on the link and asked Oracle what was up. He was relieved to hear it was just a bungled burglary by the Mad Hatter, and that Batman had released him from patrol for the rest of the night.
Ten minutes later, he slipped through the window of his apartment on the top floor of a building high enough that only someone in the penthouse of Wayne Tower could see him, and peeled off his mask before hitting the light switch.
He wasn't surprised to find Robin curled on the couch asleep, but he didn't like the sight of the fresh bruise mottling the skin of his upturned cheek. He liked even less the discarded black 'R' shuriken that sat on the coffee table, revealing who had hit the kid.
What else Renegade had done to the youngest Bat, Nightwing wasn't sure he wanted to know and as he was trying to come up with a plausible lie for Batman, Robin woke up.
"Jay?"
"Hey, Tim."
Jason dropped into a crouch as the seventeen year old knuckled his eyes and winced at the pain in the bruised one, then reached out and brushed his hands over the boy's messy hair. "You okay?"
Tim's eyes slid away from his older brother and he sat up. "Yeah, just needed a place to crash."
He always came here rather than going home...after.
"You gonna tell me what Renegade did to you?"
"Hit me."
Snorting, Jason rose and went to get some ice. "We both know better than that. Just tell the son of a bitch 'no'."
"Maybe I don't want to," came the quiet reply.
Tossing Tim an icepack, Jason shook his head in dismay. "Tim, you gotta stop this. He's playing with you to hurt Bruce."
As the kid placed the ice on his eye, his lower lip came out in a militant pout, and the other young man rolled his eyes. "You can crash here for the rest of the night--just let Babs know so she can tell Alfred." It was what he always said, because he couldn't force Tim to go home and face Bruce.
"...Thanks, Jay."
"Don't thank me, little brother. Just think about what our demented big brother really wants, okay?"
Not expecting a response, Jason headed to his bedroom for a shower. It had been a long night and he really hadn't planned to spend it thinking about what Dick and Tim were doing between trading blows.
Or why Tim craved their elder brother's attention so much.
End Prologue
Author's Note: While in Scotland in June I decided to try writing the wtf27 prompt "trading places" and came up with this idea of Dick being the one killed by the Joker and Jason being the one who lived, and when Dick came back he was all pissed off at Bruce and taking it out on Tim. It was supposed to just be a little plotless smutfic.
And then the fic just wouldn't end...
For reference, Dick died for slightly different reasons that I barely touch on, came back the same way Jason did, responded pretty much the same way Jason did, but whether or not there was Infinite Crisis or the boys and Bruce went off on their little round-the-world cruise or anything, I don't know and it really doesn't matter. Oh, and the name Red Hood is stupid, so he's Renegade, which is much cooler. Outfit minus the helmet is the same.
Also, Alfred rules.