Ficlet: That I May Rise (Tim, Shiva)
Title: That I May Rise
Summary: Bruce would approve of these lessons, Tim thinks.
Characters: Tim, Shiva
Rating: PG
Word count: 397
AN: Explanation for this: I had a few bits originally in Like an Usurpt Towne that didn’t work with the rest, but I liked them too much to just toss out. So, being thrifty, I just wove them together into this leftover drabble. Also takes place during the first Robin mini, when Shiva trains Tim. Title also from Donne’s “Batter my heart, three person’d God.”
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Bruce would approve of these lessons, Tim thinks. His body aches in surprising, new ways with each passing hour as the lessons Shiva is imparting on him are etched in bruises and strange twinges in new muscles.
Shiva teaches him in moments what it had taken the sensei in Paris weeks to accomplish. Tim can scarcely conceive of how much she could improve him in weeks. He wants to find out.
Bruce would approve of learning from Shiva’s skills, of taking these deadly arts - the ones she’s willing to impart to him, the painful lessons and the practical cruelty - in order to apply them, less deadly but no less effective, in his mission in Gotham. Bruce understands sacrificing the self for the mission.
Bruce would not approve of the hunger in Shiva’s eyes, in the creeping caresses, in the way that Tim cannot turn away. Of the ways that Tim is not sacrificing himself as he learns from Shiva.
Tim spent years hiding in plain sight from Batman. He will not impart anything about this journey that he does not wish to, even if now he wears the Robin uniform and Batman has sent him to this.
It may be deception, but small sacrifices are a necessity.
Batman would understand.
After all, Batman learned from the best on his journey, long ago. Tim knows that he didn’t solely learn from the scrupulous and benign.
Tim understands that he will sully his hands on this journey. That’s what it’s for, even if Bruce didn’t precisely put that into words. You can’t fight Gotham’s horrors without your own blemished soul. Tim knows loss now; he feels it in a more visceral way than he ever would have guessed at the thought of his mother’s grave and, worse, his father shrinking and decaying and motionless in that pristine hospital room. Tim knows loss, but he doesn’t know how to handle the grit of the street.
Jason had known the street. Jason had come to Bruce still filthy from Gotham’s lowest gutters, and Jason still hadn’t been tough enough.
Tim never thinks of an empty Robin suit behind pristine glass as Shiva teaches him the limitations of his body, and how to overcome them. He has no time to.
He can’t even think of the Robin suit that still feels strange against his skin.
He can only manage movement. Instinct.
It is worth everything.
Summary: Bruce would approve of these lessons, Tim thinks.
Characters: Tim, Shiva
Rating: PG
Word count: 397
AN: Explanation for this: I had a few bits originally in Like an Usurpt Towne that didn’t work with the rest, but I liked them too much to just toss out. So, being thrifty, I just wove them together into this leftover drabble. Also takes place during the first Robin mini, when Shiva trains Tim. Title also from Donne’s “Batter my heart, three person’d God.”
*
Bruce would approve of these lessons, Tim thinks. His body aches in surprising, new ways with each passing hour as the lessons Shiva is imparting on him are etched in bruises and strange twinges in new muscles.
Shiva teaches him in moments what it had taken the sensei in Paris weeks to accomplish. Tim can scarcely conceive of how much she could improve him in weeks. He wants to find out.
Bruce would approve of learning from Shiva’s skills, of taking these deadly arts - the ones she’s willing to impart to him, the painful lessons and the practical cruelty - in order to apply them, less deadly but no less effective, in his mission in Gotham. Bruce understands sacrificing the self for the mission.
Bruce would not approve of the hunger in Shiva’s eyes, in the creeping caresses, in the way that Tim cannot turn away. Of the ways that Tim is not sacrificing himself as he learns from Shiva.
Tim spent years hiding in plain sight from Batman. He will not impart anything about this journey that he does not wish to, even if now he wears the Robin uniform and Batman has sent him to this.
It may be deception, but small sacrifices are a necessity.
Batman would understand.
After all, Batman learned from the best on his journey, long ago. Tim knows that he didn’t solely learn from the scrupulous and benign.
Tim understands that he will sully his hands on this journey. That’s what it’s for, even if Bruce didn’t precisely put that into words. You can’t fight Gotham’s horrors without your own blemished soul. Tim knows loss now; he feels it in a more visceral way than he ever would have guessed at the thought of his mother’s grave and, worse, his father shrinking and decaying and motionless in that pristine hospital room. Tim knows loss, but he doesn’t know how to handle the grit of the street.
Jason had known the street. Jason had come to Bruce still filthy from Gotham’s lowest gutters, and Jason still hadn’t been tough enough.
Tim never thinks of an empty Robin suit behind pristine glass as Shiva teaches him the limitations of his body, and how to overcome them. He has no time to.
He can’t even think of the Robin suit that still feels strange against his skin.
He can only manage movement. Instinct.
It is worth everything.