[FIC] Rip In Soul 2
Title: Rip in Soul -- Part Two
Author: AiyokuSama
Fandom: Batamn, comics/DCAU crossover
Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne.
Warnings: References to RotJ and torture. Swearing.
Rating: Pg-13
Word Count: 2430
Summery: The broken Robins meet for a first time.
Author's Notes: This is the second in the series. You can find the first part HERE. Thank you to the saintly dragonbat2006 for her wonderful beta :)
The old butler hadn't said a word. He'd just taken him to the study and left him there. Since the stoic man hadn't mentioned anything about how long it would be before he’d return, Jason didn't bother to sit down. Instead, he openly inspected the room. The first thing he did was go to the clock, because some things were just fucking universal. And sure enough, when he moved the hands on the clock face, it opened for him.
Jason snorts. Now, the question is, should he go through? Has Alfred left him here as a test? Huh, that would be a pretty sneaky way of probing Jason's claim. The former Robin has to smile. Yeah, that sounds like Al, alright.
He takes his time, swinging the clock open slowly, looking for any traps that might be connected to it. Bruce’s paranoia is another constant. Of course, when you have world-hopping ex-Robins to contend with, is it really paranoia?
Jason smirks and heads down. As in his own universe the stairs curve around, instead of extending in a straight line. There is a simple, tactical reason for it. Individuals reaching the lowest step have a limited view of their surroundings, leaving them ripe for an ambush. Even knowing this, Jason has to move quickly to avoid the small hurtling mass with the large stick. He manages it-barely.
“Whoa,” he exclaims, dodging to the side. Part of his mind notes clinically that the kid is in a school uniform, not a Robin suit-or even work-out sweats. The way he wields the staff, though, speaks of extensive training buoyed by lots of practical usage. Although the kid is smaller, Jason doesn’t question that he's found the Tim Drake of this world.
A Tim that is currently trying to maim him. Not just disable him, but do serious damage. Jason has to grin. “Fuckin' A, this is more like it.” Now that he knows what he's dealing with he settles in to spar, never mind that the kid is clearly all business. “Show me whatcha got, Shorty,” he goads.
There is an infinitesimal frown on the kid's face as he lunges for Jason. The frown deepens as Jason smirks at the kid. But the pipsqueak's sour expression seems to mean something on some deeper level, because the kid suddenly becomes calmer and more focused in his efforts to do Jason damage. Huh.
Jason manages to trap the staff tip under one foot and then land hard on the center with his other, snapping it. The kid doesn't give up. Instead he rolls and somehow get the broken halves of the staff in hand, so he has two weapons to bring to bear on Jason. Well, now, this is an interesting twist. Kind of refreshing, actually.
He spins away from one attack and manages to tag the kid's wrist with a pressure point strike that forces him to drop one of the sticks. Drake makes a credible attempt at stabbing Jason's nuts with the other one. It’s a close call, but oh now it’s on. Jason gives a pleased almost-grin.
“Finally! A Robin with some teeth,” he announces happily-and has to seriously pull the punch headed for the kid's noggin because Drake just...stops. And deflates, like the kid he's been fighting has been just a figment of his imagination. What the hell?
Jason stands down and watches the boy, in confusion. It could be a ruse, but when he reaches to take the remaining stick from the kid, Drake's fingers are unresisting. Something is wrong. Very wrong.
“Tim, you aren't supposed to be down here,” Bruce's voice comes from behind Jason, meaning the man just came down the stairs himself. The words are an admonishment, but he almost thinks they are meant to be kind and concerned. Until he looks at the kid.
~~~
Tim knows he's not supposed to be in the Cave. Bruce had made that very clear when he'd fired him. He’s supposed to stay up stairs and go to school. Be normal. How can he ever be normal? Even if the Joker hadn't got him and... done those things, how can anyone go back to being normal when they've lived a life flying over the city and making the bad guys regret having rolled out of bed?
These days, he looks around and sees things. People. What he sees is painful. He can't be like them. He doesn't belong in their world. No, Tim's home is down here in the dark, where it's safe. They can't hurt him in the dark. They can't find him here. Here, he doesn't have to pretend that he's normal.
Bruce wants him to be normal. Now. Before he'd wanted Tim to be his partner. But not now. He's not good enough now. Damaged. Not Robin.
The dark is safe, but there are memories here too, and they mock him, running in circles inside his mind. The laughter is there too, wanting to come out. It always wants to come out, wants to be heard. Tim doesn't want it to come out. He hates it. Hates that it's in him. It'll always be in him. Damaged.
He's sitting at the computer, utterly engulfed by the huge chair, and is saved from his thoughts by the faint blinking icon on the screen. Since he's not supposed to be down here, he of course wrote his own computer program to give him a heads up when someone comes in. A program that isn't connected to the main alarms. He also put the computer on silent mode. So he sees, rather than hears, the intruder alert. Someone with an unknown bio signature has entered the Cave.
Tim doesn't think about it. If he did, he'd remember that he's not Robin anymore and isn't supposed to be down here. Instead he moves to the side soundlessly and picks up one of the practice staves, then goes to take up position next to the stairs, where the intruder is on his way down.
He frowns as his little hands tighten on the weapon. Then he's launching himself into action when the intruder is still barely visible. Interesting. The smart thing would have been to retreat into the stairwell again where a staff would have been a hindrance. Instead the man is moving past him into the Cave proper. But he's facing Tim and seems to be cheering him on. It’s confusing, to say the least.
It doesn't matter. He needs to deal with the stranger until… Until… something. Think about it later, focus on the needs of the moment. Those needs are simple: don't get dead. Which seems like a possibility. The guy is clearly trained and is going all out, but like it's something fun, rather than deadly. This is really not making sense. But then nothing in his life does anymore. Except moving. Moving makes sense. If he doesn't think about it.
The funny thing is that he's starting to enjoy himself. It's not a spar, but at the same time it totally is. No one has sparred with him since... since… He doesn't think about it.
“Finally! A Robin with some teeth!”
The words are like cold water on the boy, and everything just stops. Everything. Part of him is aware that the intruder deliberately pulls his incoming blow, but he can't care. Not Robin. He's not Robin! He'll never be Robin again! He feels his face pulling as the grin tries to make its way out. The laugh is still deep within, but he can feel that too and it's becoming very hard to breathe.
Then Bruce is there. Bruce. He can focus on Bruce, on Bruce’s disapproval. Bruce, who thinks Tim's not good enough. Damaged. Tim’s nerveless fingers flex, even as he hunches into himself.
~~~
“A what?” Bruce asks, using the comm that practically lives in his ear, as he pulls up the manor's drive. He'd needed to be seen at WE, but an hour was the most he could give. He'd driven himself so that Alfred would be available to pick Tim up from school.
“A temporal anomaly, sir,” come the butler's dry words. There's a near-imperceptible strain in the voice that tells him his old friend is concerned.
“Where is this person now?” He parks the car in front of the stairs that lead up to the main doors. Time may be of the essence; Alfred can move the car later. His impeccable dress shoes are soundless on the marble steps.
The door opens just before he reaches it and the elderly servant is right there, answering him. “The study, sir. Or he was.”
Bruce doesn't stop moving, but he growls over his shoulder, “What does that mean?”
“He was examining the clock, sir,” is the calm reply.
If there was more of an explanation to that, he didn't hear it. Instead, he's running for the study. If the stranger finds his way into the Cave, that could be... complicated. Worse than complicated, depending on the individual's intentions. When he steps into the study, the clock entrance is indeed open. Whoever the stranger is, he's not attempting to hide his activities.
When heading down, thanks to the acoustics of the stairwell, he can hear the sounds of a fight before the combatants come into view. Who would he-Oh no! Bruce dashes the rest of the way down and is ready to launch his own attack on the intruder, as he sees Tim facing off with him. Yet, in the split-second that it takes to size up the “temporal anomaly”, he realizes that the person isn't actually in danger of hurting his ward. And the words he hears confirm it, or rather, the tone does.
Holding himself back, he watches with both trepidation and pride, as Tim seems to settle into the battle. As much as Bruce doesn't want Tim in this part of his life any more, there is something very hopeful about the boy fighting without the maniacal aspect that seems to take over so often. Even so, he can't let it continue.
Before he can do anything, the stranger exclaims, “Finally! A Robin with some teeth!” Bruce's heart stops as he sees the boy freeze, his serious expression becoming a despairing blankness, even as the stranger's fist speeds toward the boy's temple. He doesn't have time say anything before the man is pulling his punch and standing down. From his vantage point, Bruce can't see the intruder's expression, but the body language speaks volumes. The man seems surprised by the turn of events and has no intention to press his advantage. Interesting.
Bruce walks up behind the man silently. When he's just out of reach, the billionaire speaks. “Tim, you aren't supposed to be down here,” he says quietly, but firmly. His heart twists painfully as those empty eyes flicker toward him. He has no idea how to approach the boy so as to not set him off. Or perhaps, some reaction, even a negative one, would be better than this eerie stillness.
It just about kills him when he sees how Tim ever-so-slightly withdraws from his approach. It's not a flinch, it's barely a movement at all. No, it's in his eyes. It's the accusations that he can see there. And the worst part of all: the boy is right to blame him.
He needs to get Tim out of the Cave. And deal with the stranger. However, before he can decide how to proceed with either, it's taken out of his hands by the interloper himself.
~~~
When Jason hears the man's voice, his eyes narrow, but at the same time, he's still watching Tim. Something is going on here, something bad. Having issues is kind of a prerequisite for being a vigilante in Gotham, but this goes way beyond the norm. On top of that, it seems to be between Bruce and Tim, except that's not right.
Whatever, he'll figure it out as he goes, but it won't happen here. Not with Bruce hovering over them and his very presence making the kid shut down all the harder. Decision time.
“Does your Al make killer cookies, kid?” he addresses Tim. Those dead eyes flick to him and the barest hint of life can be seen in their sky-blue depths. It takes a long moment before the boy gives a slow nod. “Fuckin' A. Come on. We seriously need cookies after a spar.”
As he talks Jason uses his body to block Bruce. Raising an arm (one more thing to place between the pair) he indicates the stairs. The shuffle, when it finally comes, is a slow thing. It's like the kid is expecting a beating or something. Go with the 'or something,' because none of this fits. Yet. What the hell has Bruce done to fuck up this one?!
“Wait,” Bruce calls after them. “Who are you?”
Jason doesn't have to look, he can feel the man move closer. “Jason Todd, former second Robin on my Earth. And this sure as fuck isn't it,” he shoots over his shoulder.
“I need samples. To verify,” the Bat (not Bruce) growls at him, and all Jason can do is roll his eyes.
Looking around, he can't see anything in the immediate vicinity that can do the job. He could go over to the medical bay, but that would mean leaving the kid exposed and… just no. So he pulls one of his knives from its wrist sheath and cuts the back of his scalp, then follows that up with a hank of hair. The fact that he's mirroring that “first” fucked-up meeting with his own Bruce isn't lost on him. But it's not the same. Not this time. For one thing, he doesn't have Talia whispering in his ear. He's also had a couple of years to get his head screwed on straight. Mostly.
As Bruce and the boy watch, he tosses the knife to the floor. “There, have fun. We're getting cookies.” And with that he turns for the stairs. Tim is standing there, still as a statue, but watching everything. He motions for the boy to head up. When Tim moves, Jason follows, keeping four stairs between them. He doesn't want the kid feeling crowded.
Let Bruce run his tests and play with his computers. That will keep him out of Jason’s hair, while he sees about getting the kid to talk.
THE END...for now.
Author: AiyokuSama
Fandom: Batamn, comics/DCAU crossover
Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne.
Warnings: References to RotJ and torture. Swearing.
Rating: Pg-13
Word Count: 2430
Summery: The broken Robins meet for a first time.
Author's Notes: This is the second in the series. You can find the first part HERE. Thank you to the saintly dragonbat2006 for her wonderful beta :)
The old butler hadn't said a word. He'd just taken him to the study and left him there. Since the stoic man hadn't mentioned anything about how long it would be before he’d return, Jason didn't bother to sit down. Instead, he openly inspected the room. The first thing he did was go to the clock, because some things were just fucking universal. And sure enough, when he moved the hands on the clock face, it opened for him.
Jason snorts. Now, the question is, should he go through? Has Alfred left him here as a test? Huh, that would be a pretty sneaky way of probing Jason's claim. The former Robin has to smile. Yeah, that sounds like Al, alright.
He takes his time, swinging the clock open slowly, looking for any traps that might be connected to it. Bruce’s paranoia is another constant. Of course, when you have world-hopping ex-Robins to contend with, is it really paranoia?
Jason smirks and heads down. As in his own universe the stairs curve around, instead of extending in a straight line. There is a simple, tactical reason for it. Individuals reaching the lowest step have a limited view of their surroundings, leaving them ripe for an ambush. Even knowing this, Jason has to move quickly to avoid the small hurtling mass with the large stick. He manages it-barely.
“Whoa,” he exclaims, dodging to the side. Part of his mind notes clinically that the kid is in a school uniform, not a Robin suit-or even work-out sweats. The way he wields the staff, though, speaks of extensive training buoyed by lots of practical usage. Although the kid is smaller, Jason doesn’t question that he's found the Tim Drake of this world.
A Tim that is currently trying to maim him. Not just disable him, but do serious damage. Jason has to grin. “Fuckin' A, this is more like it.” Now that he knows what he's dealing with he settles in to spar, never mind that the kid is clearly all business. “Show me whatcha got, Shorty,” he goads.
There is an infinitesimal frown on the kid's face as he lunges for Jason. The frown deepens as Jason smirks at the kid. But the pipsqueak's sour expression seems to mean something on some deeper level, because the kid suddenly becomes calmer and more focused in his efforts to do Jason damage. Huh.
Jason manages to trap the staff tip under one foot and then land hard on the center with his other, snapping it. The kid doesn't give up. Instead he rolls and somehow get the broken halves of the staff in hand, so he has two weapons to bring to bear on Jason. Well, now, this is an interesting twist. Kind of refreshing, actually.
He spins away from one attack and manages to tag the kid's wrist with a pressure point strike that forces him to drop one of the sticks. Drake makes a credible attempt at stabbing Jason's nuts with the other one. It’s a close call, but oh now it’s on. Jason gives a pleased almost-grin.
“Finally! A Robin with some teeth,” he announces happily-and has to seriously pull the punch headed for the kid's noggin because Drake just...stops. And deflates, like the kid he's been fighting has been just a figment of his imagination. What the hell?
Jason stands down and watches the boy, in confusion. It could be a ruse, but when he reaches to take the remaining stick from the kid, Drake's fingers are unresisting. Something is wrong. Very wrong.
“Tim, you aren't supposed to be down here,” Bruce's voice comes from behind Jason, meaning the man just came down the stairs himself. The words are an admonishment, but he almost thinks they are meant to be kind and concerned. Until he looks at the kid.
~~~
Tim knows he's not supposed to be in the Cave. Bruce had made that very clear when he'd fired him. He’s supposed to stay up stairs and go to school. Be normal. How can he ever be normal? Even if the Joker hadn't got him and... done those things, how can anyone go back to being normal when they've lived a life flying over the city and making the bad guys regret having rolled out of bed?
These days, he looks around and sees things. People. What he sees is painful. He can't be like them. He doesn't belong in their world. No, Tim's home is down here in the dark, where it's safe. They can't hurt him in the dark. They can't find him here. Here, he doesn't have to pretend that he's normal.
Bruce wants him to be normal. Now. Before he'd wanted Tim to be his partner. But not now. He's not good enough now. Damaged. Not Robin.
The dark is safe, but there are memories here too, and they mock him, running in circles inside his mind. The laughter is there too, wanting to come out. It always wants to come out, wants to be heard. Tim doesn't want it to come out. He hates it. Hates that it's in him. It'll always be in him. Damaged.
He's sitting at the computer, utterly engulfed by the huge chair, and is saved from his thoughts by the faint blinking icon on the screen. Since he's not supposed to be down here, he of course wrote his own computer program to give him a heads up when someone comes in. A program that isn't connected to the main alarms. He also put the computer on silent mode. So he sees, rather than hears, the intruder alert. Someone with an unknown bio signature has entered the Cave.
Tim doesn't think about it. If he did, he'd remember that he's not Robin anymore and isn't supposed to be down here. Instead he moves to the side soundlessly and picks up one of the practice staves, then goes to take up position next to the stairs, where the intruder is on his way down.
He frowns as his little hands tighten on the weapon. Then he's launching himself into action when the intruder is still barely visible. Interesting. The smart thing would have been to retreat into the stairwell again where a staff would have been a hindrance. Instead the man is moving past him into the Cave proper. But he's facing Tim and seems to be cheering him on. It’s confusing, to say the least.
It doesn't matter. He needs to deal with the stranger until… Until… something. Think about it later, focus on the needs of the moment. Those needs are simple: don't get dead. Which seems like a possibility. The guy is clearly trained and is going all out, but like it's something fun, rather than deadly. This is really not making sense. But then nothing in his life does anymore. Except moving. Moving makes sense. If he doesn't think about it.
The funny thing is that he's starting to enjoy himself. It's not a spar, but at the same time it totally is. No one has sparred with him since... since… He doesn't think about it.
“Finally! A Robin with some teeth!”
The words are like cold water on the boy, and everything just stops. Everything. Part of him is aware that the intruder deliberately pulls his incoming blow, but he can't care. Not Robin. He's not Robin! He'll never be Robin again! He feels his face pulling as the grin tries to make its way out. The laugh is still deep within, but he can feel that too and it's becoming very hard to breathe.
Then Bruce is there. Bruce. He can focus on Bruce, on Bruce’s disapproval. Bruce, who thinks Tim's not good enough. Damaged. Tim’s nerveless fingers flex, even as he hunches into himself.
~~~
“A what?” Bruce asks, using the comm that practically lives in his ear, as he pulls up the manor's drive. He'd needed to be seen at WE, but an hour was the most he could give. He'd driven himself so that Alfred would be available to pick Tim up from school.
“A temporal anomaly, sir,” come the butler's dry words. There's a near-imperceptible strain in the voice that tells him his old friend is concerned.
“Where is this person now?” He parks the car in front of the stairs that lead up to the main doors. Time may be of the essence; Alfred can move the car later. His impeccable dress shoes are soundless on the marble steps.
The door opens just before he reaches it and the elderly servant is right there, answering him. “The study, sir. Or he was.”
Bruce doesn't stop moving, but he growls over his shoulder, “What does that mean?”
“He was examining the clock, sir,” is the calm reply.
If there was more of an explanation to that, he didn't hear it. Instead, he's running for the study. If the stranger finds his way into the Cave, that could be... complicated. Worse than complicated, depending on the individual's intentions. When he steps into the study, the clock entrance is indeed open. Whoever the stranger is, he's not attempting to hide his activities.
When heading down, thanks to the acoustics of the stairwell, he can hear the sounds of a fight before the combatants come into view. Who would he-Oh no! Bruce dashes the rest of the way down and is ready to launch his own attack on the intruder, as he sees Tim facing off with him. Yet, in the split-second that it takes to size up the “temporal anomaly”, he realizes that the person isn't actually in danger of hurting his ward. And the words he hears confirm it, or rather, the tone does.
Holding himself back, he watches with both trepidation and pride, as Tim seems to settle into the battle. As much as Bruce doesn't want Tim in this part of his life any more, there is something very hopeful about the boy fighting without the maniacal aspect that seems to take over so often. Even so, he can't let it continue.
Before he can do anything, the stranger exclaims, “Finally! A Robin with some teeth!” Bruce's heart stops as he sees the boy freeze, his serious expression becoming a despairing blankness, even as the stranger's fist speeds toward the boy's temple. He doesn't have time say anything before the man is pulling his punch and standing down. From his vantage point, Bruce can't see the intruder's expression, but the body language speaks volumes. The man seems surprised by the turn of events and has no intention to press his advantage. Interesting.
Bruce walks up behind the man silently. When he's just out of reach, the billionaire speaks. “Tim, you aren't supposed to be down here,” he says quietly, but firmly. His heart twists painfully as those empty eyes flicker toward him. He has no idea how to approach the boy so as to not set him off. Or perhaps, some reaction, even a negative one, would be better than this eerie stillness.
It just about kills him when he sees how Tim ever-so-slightly withdraws from his approach. It's not a flinch, it's barely a movement at all. No, it's in his eyes. It's the accusations that he can see there. And the worst part of all: the boy is right to blame him.
He needs to get Tim out of the Cave. And deal with the stranger. However, before he can decide how to proceed with either, it's taken out of his hands by the interloper himself.
~~~
When Jason hears the man's voice, his eyes narrow, but at the same time, he's still watching Tim. Something is going on here, something bad. Having issues is kind of a prerequisite for being a vigilante in Gotham, but this goes way beyond the norm. On top of that, it seems to be between Bruce and Tim, except that's not right.
Whatever, he'll figure it out as he goes, but it won't happen here. Not with Bruce hovering over them and his very presence making the kid shut down all the harder. Decision time.
“Does your Al make killer cookies, kid?” he addresses Tim. Those dead eyes flick to him and the barest hint of life can be seen in their sky-blue depths. It takes a long moment before the boy gives a slow nod. “Fuckin' A. Come on. We seriously need cookies after a spar.”
As he talks Jason uses his body to block Bruce. Raising an arm (one more thing to place between the pair) he indicates the stairs. The shuffle, when it finally comes, is a slow thing. It's like the kid is expecting a beating or something. Go with the 'or something,' because none of this fits. Yet. What the hell has Bruce done to fuck up this one?!
“Wait,” Bruce calls after them. “Who are you?”
Jason doesn't have to look, he can feel the man move closer. “Jason Todd, former second Robin on my Earth. And this sure as fuck isn't it,” he shoots over his shoulder.
“I need samples. To verify,” the Bat (not Bruce) growls at him, and all Jason can do is roll his eyes.
Looking around, he can't see anything in the immediate vicinity that can do the job. He could go over to the medical bay, but that would mean leaving the kid exposed and… just no. So he pulls one of his knives from its wrist sheath and cuts the back of his scalp, then follows that up with a hank of hair. The fact that he's mirroring that “first” fucked-up meeting with his own Bruce isn't lost on him. But it's not the same. Not this time. For one thing, he doesn't have Talia whispering in his ear. He's also had a couple of years to get his head screwed on straight. Mostly.
As Bruce and the boy watch, he tosses the knife to the floor. “There, have fun. We're getting cookies.” And with that he turns for the stairs. Tim is standing there, still as a statue, but watching everything. He motions for the boy to head up. When Tim moves, Jason follows, keeping four stairs between them. He doesn't want the kid feeling crowded.
Let Bruce run his tests and play with his computers. That will keep him out of Jason’s hair, while he sees about getting the kid to talk.
THE END...for now.