Fic: It Ain't Revenge | DCU | Bruce, Tim | PG-13 | 1/1
Title: It Ain't Revenge
Fandom: DCU
Characters: Bruce 'The Bat' Wayne, Tim Drake
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,056
Prompt: For au_bingo: Historical: Western
Summary: Tim sure as hell ain't gonna let Digger Harkness skate free for the murder of Tim's father, even if he has to take him in himself. Wayne has a different idea of how that's gonna happen.
Disclaimer: DC, WB, and Paramount own everything. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Finally, the last of my au_bingo fics for credit, as the deadline is tonight. Loosely based on True Grit, though I've yet to see the film (oops!). Thank you, Oscars, for lending some inspiration! Slight trigger warning for references to rape.
It Ain't Revenge
Of all the US Marshalls Tim coulda' hired to track down his daddy's killer, he's glad he chose Wayne. The Bat-so called for his tendency to swoop in outta' the darkness and scare the bejeezus out of the criminals he sought to bring to justice-was methodical, hard, focused on his prey. Tim could see it in his icy blue stare across the small campfire; nothing and no one was outta his reach. And that was exactly what Tim needed; Digger goddamn Harkness was a slippery son of a bitch, and it would take the likes of the Bat to take him in, for sure.
“We headin' west in the morning?” Tim asked. As far as anyone could figure, that's where Digger had headed, joining up with Captain 'Cold' Snart's band of Rogues for the safety in their numbers.
The Bat glanced up at him from where he was honing a knife against a leather strap, his expression stony. “I am.”
Tim's blood froze in his veins, his mouth turning downward. “You sayin' you mean to leave me here? I've been with you this far, and I intend to go the distance.”
“I'm sayin' I mean to bring in Harkness on my own. No need bringin' a kid along to get himself killed.”
“And what about Grayson? He joining you instead?” Tim spat, leaping up from his spot on the ground. Dick Grayson had briefly met up with them at Fort Smith, also tracking Harkness for a murder in Texas, and what was even better, he'd been a protege of Wayne's once, back in the War; no doubt the old Marshall would want to take him along. “Probably gonna split the reward, too, I bet.”
The Bat's expression darkened, his hands stilling in their work. “He ain't coming, either. And you dare speak to me like that again, and it'll be thirty lashes across your backside, kid.”
“Stop calling me that,” Tim ground out. “I ain't a kid. Not since Harkness murdered my daddy.”
A smirk, and the Bat set his work aside, leaning forward. “You ain't even shaving yet, Timmy. You just got a hard-on to get your hands around Harkness's neck, and for God's sake, you still call your father 'daddy'. Only reason you've come this far is because I let you, want you to get it out of your system. I know damn well what it is to be a kid out to kill the bastard that took his family away, and I know how that drive will take you bad places if you let it.”
Frustrated, Tim kicked at the dirt, sending a shower of fine gravel and sand into the fire, then spun around and stalked out of the circle of light from the fire. He'd just have to go on by himself, if Wayne wasn't planning on helping him out. He-
Pausing in his stride, he turned slowly back to face the Bat, stepping back into the firelight. “What exactly do you mean, you 'know damn well'?”
Wayne frowned at him, his expression full of darkness and pain. “I was all of eight goddamn years old when Joe Chill shot my parents in cold blood. If I hadn't had someone there to stop me, I'd'a killed him with my bare hands.” Reaching for his canteen, the Bat unscrewed the cap and took a long swig of water-no liquor on this journey, as Tim had been surprised to discover-before swiping his mouth with his shirt sleeve. “There's nothin' honorable in goin' off half-cocked, bloodying up your hands. And with your age and severe lack of experience, you're liable to get your ass killed in the process.”
Tim's jaw tightened and he chewed over several choice words before biting out, “Well, I ain't letting Harkness skate free, either!”
“I know you aren't,” Wayne nodded, looking more solemn now as he set his canteen aside and clasped his hands, knuckles going white. “I'll bring him in, as agreed. But you can't be there.”
“Why not?” It wasn't whining. Tim would never admit to that.
“Because I can't trust you with my back. Not yet.”
“Of course you can trust me!”
Wayne shook his head. “I don't mean it like that, kid. You just ain't ready to head into a situation like this. The Rogues are nasty bastards, as likely to shoot you as look at you. And a kid like you? Just as liable to get tied up and rode like a horse before they kill you, if you catch my meaning.”
Tim's stomach turned at the thought, his eyes widening as he swallowed down the rise of bile in his throat. “It won't happen,” he asserted. “I won't let it. I'll claw their eyes out if I gotta, but I ain't letting this go.”
Meeting his gaze with a hard stare, the Bat blew a long breath out his nose, then shook his head. “I can't let you come along.”
“You keep saying that, but it ain't gonna stop me,” Tim said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Wayne's entire body seemed to slump a little as if in defeat. “You just don't get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
Those hard eyes bored into his. “Why do you think Grayson went and became a godforsaken Texas Ranger, kid? You ain't the first kid by a long shot to want revenge, and he paid the price for the fire in his veins, because I couldn't stop him.”
Tim let his arms fall to his sides and he sat back down next to the fire, the whole truth of why Grayson was as keen to take in the Rogues as he was sinking in slowly, finally. It sure as hell spoke volumes to why Wayne was so hell-bent to leave him behind, too.
But that was all in the past, and damned if Tim was about to give up just because somebody got hurt once upon a time and Wayne felt responsible.
“I'm coming with you,” he said at last, digging his fingers into the dirt beneath him as if to root himself to the spot, “whether you like it or not. And so's Grayson. We can't outnumber them, but they ain't half as determined as we are. They got no chance.”
“I ain't goin' in for revenge, kid.”
“It ain't revenge. It's justice.”
A flash of those ice blue eyes, softened just barely with resignation, and Wayne nodded. “All right. We head west in the morning.”
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU
Characters: Bruce 'The Bat' Wayne, Tim Drake
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,056
Prompt: For au_bingo: Historical: Western
Summary: Tim sure as hell ain't gonna let Digger Harkness skate free for the murder of Tim's father, even if he has to take him in himself. Wayne has a different idea of how that's gonna happen.
Disclaimer: DC, WB, and Paramount own everything. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Finally, the last of my au_bingo fics for credit, as the deadline is tonight. Loosely based on True Grit, though I've yet to see the film (oops!). Thank you, Oscars, for lending some inspiration! Slight trigger warning for references to rape.
It Ain't Revenge
Of all the US Marshalls Tim coulda' hired to track down his daddy's killer, he's glad he chose Wayne. The Bat-so called for his tendency to swoop in outta' the darkness and scare the bejeezus out of the criminals he sought to bring to justice-was methodical, hard, focused on his prey. Tim could see it in his icy blue stare across the small campfire; nothing and no one was outta his reach. And that was exactly what Tim needed; Digger goddamn Harkness was a slippery son of a bitch, and it would take the likes of the Bat to take him in, for sure.
“We headin' west in the morning?” Tim asked. As far as anyone could figure, that's where Digger had headed, joining up with Captain 'Cold' Snart's band of Rogues for the safety in their numbers.
The Bat glanced up at him from where he was honing a knife against a leather strap, his expression stony. “I am.”
Tim's blood froze in his veins, his mouth turning downward. “You sayin' you mean to leave me here? I've been with you this far, and I intend to go the distance.”
“I'm sayin' I mean to bring in Harkness on my own. No need bringin' a kid along to get himself killed.”
“And what about Grayson? He joining you instead?” Tim spat, leaping up from his spot on the ground. Dick Grayson had briefly met up with them at Fort Smith, also tracking Harkness for a murder in Texas, and what was even better, he'd been a protege of Wayne's once, back in the War; no doubt the old Marshall would want to take him along. “Probably gonna split the reward, too, I bet.”
The Bat's expression darkened, his hands stilling in their work. “He ain't coming, either. And you dare speak to me like that again, and it'll be thirty lashes across your backside, kid.”
“Stop calling me that,” Tim ground out. “I ain't a kid. Not since Harkness murdered my daddy.”
A smirk, and the Bat set his work aside, leaning forward. “You ain't even shaving yet, Timmy. You just got a hard-on to get your hands around Harkness's neck, and for God's sake, you still call your father 'daddy'. Only reason you've come this far is because I let you, want you to get it out of your system. I know damn well what it is to be a kid out to kill the bastard that took his family away, and I know how that drive will take you bad places if you let it.”
Frustrated, Tim kicked at the dirt, sending a shower of fine gravel and sand into the fire, then spun around and stalked out of the circle of light from the fire. He'd just have to go on by himself, if Wayne wasn't planning on helping him out. He-
Pausing in his stride, he turned slowly back to face the Bat, stepping back into the firelight. “What exactly do you mean, you 'know damn well'?”
Wayne frowned at him, his expression full of darkness and pain. “I was all of eight goddamn years old when Joe Chill shot my parents in cold blood. If I hadn't had someone there to stop me, I'd'a killed him with my bare hands.” Reaching for his canteen, the Bat unscrewed the cap and took a long swig of water-no liquor on this journey, as Tim had been surprised to discover-before swiping his mouth with his shirt sleeve. “There's nothin' honorable in goin' off half-cocked, bloodying up your hands. And with your age and severe lack of experience, you're liable to get your ass killed in the process.”
Tim's jaw tightened and he chewed over several choice words before biting out, “Well, I ain't letting Harkness skate free, either!”
“I know you aren't,” Wayne nodded, looking more solemn now as he set his canteen aside and clasped his hands, knuckles going white. “I'll bring him in, as agreed. But you can't be there.”
“Why not?” It wasn't whining. Tim would never admit to that.
“Because I can't trust you with my back. Not yet.”
“Of course you can trust me!”
Wayne shook his head. “I don't mean it like that, kid. You just ain't ready to head into a situation like this. The Rogues are nasty bastards, as likely to shoot you as look at you. And a kid like you? Just as liable to get tied up and rode like a horse before they kill you, if you catch my meaning.”
Tim's stomach turned at the thought, his eyes widening as he swallowed down the rise of bile in his throat. “It won't happen,” he asserted. “I won't let it. I'll claw their eyes out if I gotta, but I ain't letting this go.”
Meeting his gaze with a hard stare, the Bat blew a long breath out his nose, then shook his head. “I can't let you come along.”
“You keep saying that, but it ain't gonna stop me,” Tim said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Wayne's entire body seemed to slump a little as if in defeat. “You just don't get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
Those hard eyes bored into his. “Why do you think Grayson went and became a godforsaken Texas Ranger, kid? You ain't the first kid by a long shot to want revenge, and he paid the price for the fire in his veins, because I couldn't stop him.”
Tim let his arms fall to his sides and he sat back down next to the fire, the whole truth of why Grayson was as keen to take in the Rogues as he was sinking in slowly, finally. It sure as hell spoke volumes to why Wayne was so hell-bent to leave him behind, too.
But that was all in the past, and damned if Tim was about to give up just because somebody got hurt once upon a time and Wayne felt responsible.
“I'm coming with you,” he said at last, digging his fingers into the dirt beneath him as if to root himself to the spot, “whether you like it or not. And so's Grayson. We can't outnumber them, but they ain't half as determined as we are. They got no chance.”
“I ain't goin' in for revenge, kid.”
“It ain't revenge. It's justice.”
A flash of those ice blue eyes, softened just barely with resignation, and Wayne nodded. “All right. We head west in the morning.”
~*~*~*~