Another fic for Elizabeth, the third out of three sexytimes I promised her. Even though this is more sad than sexy. It doesn't even have an R rating.......
Sort of takes place in her Star Wars Ben/Tim Sith AU, specifically Past-Tense.
Greatly influenced by Anne Hathaway's version of "I Dreamed a Dream". Seriously. Listen to that song if you're gonna read this I swear to God it will become 100000% sadder.
Title: A Time Past Dreaming
Pairing: Ben/Tim
Rating PG13, non-explicit mentions of sex and attempted suffocation
Summary: He has to grasp for every second-hand emotion he can get.
---
Before, he’d felt so much that it bled out of him and into everyone else. Now, with the Force stripped from him, he doesn’t feel anything at all. Or more like, he can’t feel anything on his own. He has to grasp for every second-hand emotion he can get.
And for now, Ben will do that, be Tim’s conduit for a little while longer. Until he grows completely and irrevocably disgusted. Until he finds someone he can conjure feelings for on his own. Without the help of an empath.
Tim is grateful. He doesn’t deserve this kind of kindness.
Ben holds his face carefully between his hands and allows Tim to push their lips together. Allows Tim to nibble on his bottom lip and flick his tongue out against the upper one.
Ben doesn’t kiss back, though. He’s still in control, and Tim’s still a prisoner. But like this, it doesn’t seem so.
It feels like they’re back on the Millennium Falcon, naked bodies pushed together in the small space between sleeping bunks. Ben remembers the image of Tim holding his fingers against his own mouth, trying to keep his mewls and gasps a secret from the other passengers.
Touching like this, the memory floods into Tim, too. He sees himself, through Ben’s eyes, the way Ben remembers it. When Tim refuses to let Ben hear him, his tongue darts past the sensitive skin between Tim’s middle and ring fingers to his tightly pressed lips, licking and sucking until they’re unsealed and the sound of Tim’s pleasure set free.
He can taste what Ben tastes then, too-- the salt of his sweat, and a hint of sweetness left over from the chee-chee berries they’d fed each other.
Even though it’s just a memory, the flavor, the lust, and even the love almost feels just as strong as it had back then.
A cool hand brushes against Ben’s face, like a lover’s caress pulling him out of the past. When Tim holds his hand up, Ben sees the glistening wetness of a tear.
He tries to pull away angrily, but Tim grasps his wrist with the same hand.
“You know, I can feel it too. Like we’re still connected.” He sighs, lowering his eyes as if this is the first time he’s telling Ben he loves him. “I don’t know if you believe me, but I miss it.”
I wish things didn’t have to change.
I wish I could have believed in you more.
Tim can’t figure out if he’s talking about Ben, or the Force and the powers taken from him. But, really, aren’t they the same thing? It’s that connection to the rest of the world, his world, that he misses.
Without Ben, what pleasure can he find in feeling strength and life humming in his veins? Without the Force, what kind of fortune is having Ben by his side if Tim can’t even feel him there?
Ben slides his hand to the back of Tim’s neck, grounding him. When he tilts Tim’s head back, his mouth falls open and Ben kisses him back this time. The feelings rush into Tim with the wet slide of Ben’s tongue against his teeth, and the words he never says get shoved down Tim’s throat.
I wish things were different.
I wish I’d put less faith in you.
They burn going down, and Tim almost chokes on them.
Tim returns to feeling the way he used to-- when there was too much emotion. When he was drowning in his own body. When he was flowing out of himself. The sensation of feeling again makes him shiver.
With Ben pushing forward, Tim falls backward, landing hard on his back. They’re still kissing, but it’s turned into an almost all-out battle.
Teeth clack against teeth and latch unrelentingly onto lips. Tongues wage war for dominance, for control, for apologies left unsaid and forgiveness never offered.
Ben’s other hand finishes the circle around Tim’s throat, and he squeezes. Harder and harder, and Tim pushes up against it, hoping it bruises. Right now, he’s more alive than he’s been in weeks.
Ben always gives him this. What he wants. He knows what Tim needs before he even asks. It’s more than Tim deserves, so he takes it all and plans to never waste it.
He gasps for air against Ben’s mouth and his body thrashes underneath him-- a violent mimicry of the way he’d sighed and arched his body when they’d made love.
Tim’s mind grows unfocused and focused at the same time, losing its grip on his surroundings but holding tight to Ben's presence. His vision grows black around the edges. It’s euphoric, he’s on a high and--
Luke Skywalker himself and a handful of Jedi guards have to pull them apart. Ben struggles against their arms for a moment before slumping his weight against them. Luke offers Tim a hand, but he gets up on his own.
There was a time when he would have been embarrassed to have Ben’s father witness them like this. Red would have flushed his ears and heat would have filled his cheeks. But, that was a long time ago, and with Ben ten feet away and not touching him, Tim feels nothing.
More Jedi, faces that would have been more familiar if they’d been smiling, flank Tim on each side to lead him away. They have their lightsabers at their belts and in their robes, just in case there’s still a stubborn sliver of fiery passion left in him.
But all that remains is a voice that whispers against Tim’s ear. It could be the Force-- what’s left of it in him. It could be a ghost.
Tim remembers the single afternoon he’d spent with his own father. He’d stood at his side as they stared over what could have been its own empire-- the Drake factory, where obsolete models of robots and machines were....decommissioned. Their final resting place. He wonders if this is how they felt.
The voice in his ear sounds a lot like Jack Drake. But it sounds like Bruce Wayne, too, and Luke and Ben Skywalker. It sounds like all the men in Tim’s life that have disappointed him.
The last scene Tim sees, before the doors slide shut, is Luke Skywalker dismissing the Jedi holding his son. Ben falls to his knees, clutching to his father’s robes, and his cries echo in the empty chamber, full of emotion that only bounces off of Tim's hard shell.
The cold that settles in his empty stomach is not uncomfortable.
Soon, Ben will get over Tim’s betrayal. Soon, he will stop crying and someone else will take his place to dry Ben’s tears. To brush his hair back from his forehead. To hold his hand in the sunlight and to cradle his body in the dark. Soon, Ben will be able to fall in love again, and it won’t be with Tim.
It could be the liquor, but Tim is really pretty. Well, he’s always been good looking, you know, cheekbones just sharp enough to cut, lips plush enough to kiss, and a nose that is absolutely astral—in a teenaged adjective kind of way, not having anything to do with the stars duh.
“You know,” Ben says, because Tim needs to know, after all, no one on this bucket tells Tim how gorgeous he is, “you’re really pretty.”
Tim flushes, refusing to look up from the dejarik board, moving monsters against a computer player—Tim’s going to win. He always wins. “You’re a genius too.”
“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.
“And I think I could love you—“ Ben babbles, grinning wide, because he could, after all, he loves Vestara and she was a Sith. There are worse things to work through than gender.
Tim’s eyes flutter shut, his cheeks pink and bright—a lot like the cherry brandy that Uncle Han had in the Falcon (he shouldn’t have left them both alone if he didn’t want Ben getting into it, haha, Uncle Han). When they open, his eyes are wet, his pupils blown, and he wanders over to where Ben is resting horizontally on the round booth, looking upside down at him.
Ben thinks Tim might kiss him. When his pale fingers brush against Ben’s forehead, he’s almost certain Tim will kiss him. He doesn’t think he’d mind.
“You should probably go to sleep,” Tim whispers, and Ben is a little surprised—at least until a sensation of tired washes over him so strongly, he doesn’t even really have time to think about much except—wow he’s so beautiful.
The one they shared pressed against the inside of a dome on Mon Calamari.
The one snuck during empathy practice, when his father's back was turned.
One under the awning at the Jedi Academy and one deep in the Wookie forests.
Ben has them all catalogued in his mind, and he's figured out when it's easiest to kiss Tim, what time of day he's most pliant and willing. When and where he'll turn the brightest shade of red, and which part of his body will make him squirm against or away from Ben.
Kissing Tim was like being surrounded by glowing meteorites and swirling masses of stardust all colors of the spectrum.
Kissing this Tim is like being banished to deepest, coldest space.
But it's just as easy to get lost in.
-
XXI.
Ben could stay here forever.
Not here, in the Manor. He supposes he's already outstayed his welcome with the Bat.
But here, in Gotham.
Here, on Earth.
Here, by Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne's side.
In his apartment in a place called Metropolis, where a red and blue man streaks across the sky.
They could share a bed as large, as simple, as comfortable as the one he first (-second-third-) woke up in.
He could stay here forever.
-
XV.
This is not his time or place and that is not his Tim-- Ben has to remind himself more and more often lately.
His Timothy with eyes as deep and blue as the oceans of Mon Calamari. Skin as smooth as the windswept deserts of Tatooine and as pale as the Dembaline pearls of Dac.
His Tim who moves with jittery hesitance and whose shoulders curl inward to hide and wrap around his heart. Who Ben can feel with the Force.
Who smiles when Ben slips their hands together.
His Tim who feels too much so shares, when Ben asks.
This Tim is too far. His eyes are blue like the icy caves of Hoth - sharp and dangerous and far too cold. He's covered in scars and burns, and he flinches when Ben reaches for him.
This Tim stands with his back straight and bends for no one. Walks with poise and self-assurance, like hell is at his heels because he called it there. He's loyal to a fault, but he's more Sith than Jedi.
And Ben can never guess what he's thinking.
This is not the Tim he knows, and Ben has to keep reminding himself.
With each day that passes, he starts to forget why.
-
IX.
Days before they leave, board the Millennium Falcon, Ben's uncle pulls him aside and hands him a Tandgor gem, like he knows what Ben is thinking. Like he's seen the way Ben looks at Tim.
He tells his nephew, "I know some places you can get this inlaid, no questions asked," because Ben knows how this gem came into Han Solo's possession - that it was smuggled from the Outer Rim planet of the same name, a long time ago.
In his palm, the gem glows bright and red, like a fire burns inside of it. And it's perfect.
Tim will love it.
-
X.
Ben's been here for days, maybe weeks - he doesn't know how long he slept.
They're all keeping their distance, Bruce especially, but at least they're talking to him. Ben tells them about the world he knows (knew), and they tell him about Gotham.
About what they do.
Why they go out at night and call themselves after creatures in the sky.
He doesn't know how long he'll be here, and he wants to help, even a little. So he practices moves they've shown him, fuses it with his own Jedi training. He begins to learn their technology.
Maybe he can rebuild a ship and launch it into space to search for--
"Here, like this."
Tim adjusts the height of his arm and nudges Ben's leg wider with his foot.
"You're back early."
Tim just hums, and they finish the katas together, in silence. When they're done, Ben can't help himself, they're just so close--
He can feel Tim's chest rising against his with each breath. Ben moves slowly, gives the other man the option of rejecting his advances.
He tests Tim by brushing his fingers against Tim's face, and Tim doesn't move into the touch but he doesn't move away either.
The whole time he's been here, he knows--
This Tim must have noticed the way Ben looked at him, the way his voice softened when they spoke. When it was just the two of them.
It's been days and weeks.
If he really is this great detective, there's no way he couldn't have seen or felt--
"Hey Timbo! Ben! Where are you guys?"
And just like that the moment is lost.
-
XXIII.
After the night Ben's lips turned the color of blood and he held Tim to his chest like they were both drowning--
Tim comes to his bed more frequently. Not every night, but always after patrol.
Sometimes they just lie there, and sometimes they kiss.
Sometimes Tim lets Ben remove his clothes, and sometimes it's the other way around.
One night, Tim finds the Tandgor gem glowing and Ben tells him about it.
He talks about Han Solo, smuggler and member of the Rebel Alliance, his uncle. How the gem had been given to him as a gift.
He tells Tim everything except for what he was going to do with it.
Tim never asks, and later, Ben slips it into the side table drawer before following Tim into the realm of dreamless sleep.
-
I.
Twenty-four hours ago, Ben sits in the Millennium Falcon-- headed for home. And Tim is beside him, hand heavy in Ben's. He says something - maybe not "I love you", but it's close - and Tim turns and smiles, and for a second, his face is haloed by a brilliant light--
Twenty-four hours ago, Ben thinks - if this is a glimpse into the rest of my life, it's not so bad. And he thinks about rings - rings - a matching set, and how would he ask Tim?
A grand gesture, a parade and streets lined with flowers? Lights in the sky, or flickering lanterns on the surface of an ocean far out in the depths of space? If he could, Ben would rearrange the constellations to tell Tim how he feels.
Or would something simple and subtle do? As easy as rolling over and saying "good morning"? Ben could sweep him off his feet and hold him close, twirl Tim around and whisper it against his lips - "marry me."
Or-- or Ben could wait. For the perfect opportunity. He could fill himself with the desire, the want, the need - not of Tim (he always feels that and Tim knows it) - no. He'd fill himself with the need to spend forever with Tim.
He'd make his whole body sing it, infuse it into every inhale, exhale, and sigh, paint it into the brush of his fingertips, the sweep of his eyelashes against Tim's cheek.
It would be woven into the tangle of their limbs and Ben's heart would beat with it, his mind would absorb the very idea and send it to every synapse and nerve.
Then Ben would ask Tim, say to him, "share with me, Tim. Share."
And Tim would, because-- because he's an empath and Ben is his conduit and-- when the time is right, Tim would just know. First hand. He'd know every thought Ben held, every feeling, every desire - Ben would just let go and it would flow into Tim so that he'd understand.
So that he'd stop second-guessing, stop doubting, stop thinking that Ben's feelings are only projections of his own.
Twenty-four hours ago, Ben holds the world in his hands.
-
VIII.
Ben wakes up. That's all he's been doing, going to sleep and waking up in strange places. But the things he remembers before, they're never a dream. The Falcon and Tim and not-Tim and--
"We've got to stop meeting like this."
Not-Tim, not Ben's Tim, walks toward the gurney. It's cold here, in this cave, and in every dark corner, he sees himself wrapped around Tim's body, shielding him from-- from--
Something small and screeching flies overhead. This must be where he was, before, the first time he woke.
"Where am I?"
"This is the Cave." His voice is gentle but cold. "Bruce found you. Your ship." Every word is measured, like he's looking for some kind of reaction, but Ben knows how to keep his feelings behind a wall, too. He learned from the best.
"In space."
"Was there--" Was there anyone with me?
Ben closes his eyes against the answer.
"No. You were alone. Who are you?"
"I'm. My name is. Ben." Don't you know?
He's trying not to shake.
"Well, Ben," - (Ben thought he'd always love his name on Tim's lips, but--) - "it looks like you're very far from home."
Ben doesn't know how to respond because all that fills his mind is Tim and the black hole and letting go, he shouldn't have--
"You're in the wrong universe."
-
XX.
He forgets how his mother's voice sounds, he forgets half of her name, and soon after, he forgets that this isn't where he belongs.
-
Epilogue.
Tim's known since the beginning. Ever since Han Solo gave Ben the Tandgor gem. How could Ben ever think he could keep it a secret? Tim is his empath, and Ben's desire flows from every one of his pores.
Every single one of Ben's plans, created and discarded, in search of the perfect proposal.
To every single one, Tim says yes. Thinks it, feels it.
He waits for Ben to notice. If he doesn't soon--
Tim will propose himself. It will be a good way to spend the journey back to Coruscant.
He rolls over and presses his lips against Ben's. "Good morning," he says.
Oh yeah, forgot to mention that the title comes from the song "Twenty Four" by Switchfoot.
Title: Twenty-Four
Pairing: Ben/Tim
Rating: PG13
Summary: It's not "I love you" but it's close.
[ Part One | Part Two | Part Three ]
---
The walls are lined with books, floor to ceiling, and Ben must have underestimated how wealthy the Wayne family is. He's never seen so many books in his life, and to have them all gathered here is a rare and exquisite sight.
Someone coughs, and--
Tim's whole family is here - Bruce, Dick, Damian, even the prodigal (Sith) son Jason. They're all scowling or at least, looking at him funny, and their clothes are odd, too, but they wear them like a second skin. Like they're comfortable with something tied that tightly around their throats.
His eyes finally fall on Tim and Ben wants to go to him immediately, touch him, run his hands up and down Tim's arms, but--
The first thing Ben notices is that this is not his Tim.
He looks out the window behind Bruce, and. This is not. There isn't. Anything he recognizes - from a book, a holo-picture, his own eyes, or otherwise.
"Tim?" he asks, because he isn't sure if this boy's name is the same as his boy's and--
"Pretender, how the hell does this guy know your name?" not-Jason says.
Not-Damian tuts (and Ben knows that sound), and not-Bruce's eyes bear into him. It's not the Force, but it's heavy and--
"Timmy, who is this guy?"
Tim looks at him, and Ben reaches out to him with his mind-- you know me, you know me, you know-- but he hits a wall instead.
Even the way he cocks his head to the side thoughtfully, the way his forehead wrinkles, is the same, but--
"I don't... know," not-Tim admits.
And Ben's world is swallowed by an exploding star all over again.
-
XIII.
The next night, Ben doesn't wait for Tim. It's Tim who goes to him.
He slips into Ben's room like the shadows, smelling of soap. His hair is still a little wet.
He sits on the bed, facing the window, and Ben fingers the gem under the covers. They're too thick for the light to show through.
Tim just sits there, quiet, thinking. Ben doesn't know what kinds of things weigh on his mind. (He doesn't know if he even has permission to ask.)
Right before he finally drifts to sleep, Tim speaks.
"Who are you?"
"I'm-- Ben." You know me.
Tim shakes his head. "Who are you?"
"I'm Ben Skywalker." I love you, and you loved me once, too.
Tim moves to stand--
"Stay."
--and the door shuts with a click instead of a whoosh.
I was going to marry you.
-
XVIII.
One night, Tim slips into his room again, and he just sits on the bed like last time. Looks up at the moon through the window, and in the dark, Ben can fool himself into thinking this is the same Tim he's always loved.
When he's about to fall asleep, Tim stands.
"Stay," Ben begs.
Tim watches him with his ice cave-eyes, weighing his offer. An eternity passes between them, but--
This time, he slips under the sheets like it's the easiest thing he's ever had to learn.
He falls asleep before Tim does, and when he wakes, his bed is empty.
He rolls over anyway and says, "good morning."
-
III.
Ben wakes up, but barely. His head pounds and he can hear voices far away. The ceiling is high and dark, and something small and screeching flies overhead. Everything echoes, but he figures it's just the headache.
All his muscles burn, like he hasn't moved in days. With a name, a three-lettered word at the hazy edges of his brain, he slips back into darkness.
-
XVII.
The whole cave echoes the roaring engine of the Redbird.
Tim's home from patrol early, and Nightwing is, too, because he's the one carrying him. There's blood on Red Robin's chest. It isn't his, but it might as well be.
He looks dead, and Ben's only ever seen his Tim look like this once, just once.
And that was when their Jason, the Jason from their world, died.
Ben's heart jumps into his throat, and Nightwing shakes his younger brother.
"Tim, I got you. Li'l bro, come on, Tim."
Ben moves forward automatically, and Dick just passes Tim to him - "Ben, please," - then screams for Alfred.
"Tim," Ben murmurs. "Tim, talk to me, what happened."
(--it's not "I love you" but it's close--)
"--couldn't. I couldn't save them," he clings to Ben's shirt. "I couldn't save them."
(--feels like his heart being ripped from his chest--)
"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay, Tim. I'm here."
(--we'll be okay, I'll get us out of this, I will, Tim, I won't let anything happen to you--)
"They were just children. Ben, I--"
(--the ship gets dragged toward the black hole's center--)
He smears his lips against Tim's forward and they come away red.
-
VI.
There's a room downstairs with voices floating through the door.
Ben stands outside and listens, catches Tim's voice, even though it's the quietest. And he hears names like Bruce and Jason and--
And Tim's whole family is here-- why?
Was it-- Ben's afraid to ask, was it that bad?
What happened?
The door opens in his face, and it's. It's Alfred, the crew member who works on Bruce's ship.
"Oh, I see you're awake, Master--"
Doesn't Alfred know his name is Ben? They've only met a couple of times, but--
"Ben, just call me Ben," he answers.
Over Alfred's shoulder, he sees everyone gathered in the room, silent and staring at him.
"Right, Master Ben," he says, like Ben's already a Jedi Master, but he's not. "We've all been waiting for you to wake."
He moves out of the way, and Ben guesses he's supposed to step inside the room.
So he does. And he hates the way the door clicks instead of whooshes.
-
XII.
The next night, Ben doesn't wait for Tim to return. Not in the cave, at least (--it's black again, it's cool again).
He lies awake in his room, his temporary room, and tries to remember the sky he slept beneath in Coruscant. The gleaming buildings, like crystal, and the nightlife so bright it was almost day.
He tries to remember what it was like to reach and just know what Tim was feeling, what it was like when Tim let him.
There are no stars in Gotham, but at least Coruscant was familiar.
-
Interlude.
Tim doesn't tell Ben he talks to Zatanna, or Damian's witch friend Klarion.
He doesn't tell him that they can send him back to wherever he came from.
All they'd need is access to the Watch Tower and a well-stocked ship.
He doesn't tell Ben that even if they did send him back, everyone he cared for, everyone on that ship, they'd still be--
Somewhere. Maybe lost like Ben is. Maybe.
Tim knows how to keep a secret. He's been practicing since he was nine.
My part of a fic trade with Elizabeth. Sorry it took so long, here's the first out of three parts since it actually reached 4k words *A*
Sort of her Star Wars AU, sort of not. You'll see why soon enough.
Note: The numerals correspond to what order I wrote each one, sort of chronological but not necessarily. Then I took a random number generator to order them, moved some stuff around, and voila!
Title: Twenty-Four
Pairing: Ben/Tim
Rating: PG13
Summary: It's not "I love you" but it's close.
[ Part One | Part Two | Part Three ]
---
He never finds out what happened to everyone else.
His mother and father, his aunt and uncle.
As far as he knows, he's another orphan, parents claimed too soon by death.
As far as he knows, he's never known exactly what Tim feels (but Tim's always been by his side).
As far as he knows, there are nine planets in their solar system, even though some claim Pluto is only a moon.
As far as he knows, he's always loved space since he was a kid, but never enough to leave the atmosphere.
As far as he knows--
That's all he's ever known.
-
V.
When Ben wakes again, he's feeling better than he has in a while. Tim's no where to be found, and for the first time, he really takes in the room.
It's large and comfortable, but simple.
He tests his legs before getting up, and he stumbles but quickly steadies himself.
Someone changed his clothes. They're made out of material he doesn't recognize, and the style is a little odd. But his own clothing is nowhere to be found. It will have to do.
He has to find Tim and find out what happened to the others. Are they alright? Are they here too? How did we get here?
Venturing outside of the room, he decides to explore on his own. He projects his confusion. Maybe, in this huge place, Tim will feel it and come looking for him, too.
-
II.
Ben turns to Tim and doesn't quite say "I love you" but it's close.
Tim turns and smiles at him. He opens his mouth, and for a second a brilliant light haloes his face.
For a second it's perfect--
Until it's not.
The bright light, Tim's halo, becomes an exploding star, and it burns to look at, burns like a sun. Ben wraps his whole body around Tim and shields him, pushes them to the furthest, darkest corner, but the whole ship rocks with the blast.
Everyone's yelling and he can't tell whose voice is which. All he can hear is Tim's panicked breathing against his chest, the blood rushing in his ears, and his own voice, promising we'll be okay, I'll get us out of this, I will, Tim, I won't let anything happen to you.
Within seconds-- the light outside flashes inward, flickers and it's black again, it's cool again. The ship steadies. And Tim looks up at him when he thinks it's safe, opens his mouth and utters words that look like "I love you" but Ben can't tell because--
Because the star warps into a black hole. With the shields down from the blast, all their air goes away, and even though Tim is millimeters from his face, Ben can't hear a word.
The ship gets dragged toward the black hole's center, and the Falcon sways again. But this time, Ben can't hold onto Tim.
He watches as his boyfriend, his lover, his other half gets tossed across the room, and it feels like his heart being ripped from his chest. He watches as Tim gasps for breath and doesn't realize he's doing the same.
Ben watches their life together die before it even got a chance, watches Tim crumple to the floor as darkness fills the edges of his vision.
The parade floats fall apart, and the flowers decay and fill the gutters. Each light in the sky flickers out, one by one. The lanterns sink, and even if he tried, Ben couldn't move a meteor, let alone all the constellations in the sky.
If he could even bring himself to move, if he rolled over in the morning, Tim might not be there. Ben could say "good morning," but there'd be no one to hear him. He might get sick of Ben. And if he tried picking Tim up and twirling him, maybe he'd drop him. Maybe Tim would tell him to let go. Put me down, he'd ask quietly.
But Ben doesn't know because they never got the chance--
One last time, he reaches out with the Force, feeling for Tim, and when Tim reaches back, feebly, weakly but there, Ben tries to hold on for as long as possible.
Tries to send Tim all of his feelings one last time, tries to make him understand until he can't.
And-- and when Tim lets go, when Ben can't feel him anymore--
That's when Ben lets go, too. Lets himself slip far, far away.
-
XIV.
After a while, he stops asking what happened. How he was found.
After a while, Tim shows him the footage and images encrypted on the Batman's computer.
After a while, he stops being the boy with cosmos in his hair and stardust on his eyelashes, all of deep space between his fingers.
After a while, the Force doesn't hum so loudly through his veins anymore. It gets harder and harder to reach, but he doesn't stop trying.
Tim's walls are still up.
Ben doesn't stop trying.
-
XXIV.
In a drawer, in a guest room, on the second floor of Wayne Manor, there's a red gem that glows like there's a fire burning inside of it. A fire that grows dimmer every day it stays there.
But that's all it is--
A pretty stone.
-
IV.
When Ben wakes again, he's more comfortable. He's in an actual bed. And even though the curtains aren't drawn, sunshine makes the room look almost gold.
It's warm, almost too warm - like a star burning against his skin - and he pushes the covers back, moves to sit up even though his whole body protests--
He should have used the Force to check if anyone else was in the room with him.
"You shouldn't be up yet."
"Wha--"
His throat scratches, and Tim - Tim, you're alright, you're safe, you're here- Tim hands him a glass of water and two small pills.
"Take these for the pain, then drink this."
Ben does as he's told because it's Tim. But, he wants to ask the other man why he can't feel him. Why, even though they're in the same room, Ben doesn't know what he's thinking. Why, even though Ben is his conduit, there are walls erected all around Tim.
He wants to ask so many questions, but the meds knock him out before he gets the chance.
-
XIX.
Ben doesn't know when he stopped comparing the two Tims.
Maybe between the third kiss and the fourth.
-
XI.
Twenty-four hours ago, it would have been Tim's birthday.
This Tim's birthday is in July.
The Tandgor gem glows in his pocket, and Ben pretends he can feel its warmth against his leg.
Happy birthday, Tim.
-
Interlude.
Ben doesn't tell Tim that when he says his name, he means someone else.
Another version of him.
He doesn't tell him that going home is all he thinks about.
All he needs is a chance, an allowance to visit their tower in space and see how close it is to anywhere familiar and if he can reach it from there. Reach out with the Force and find someone who would reach back.
He doesn't tell Tim that on his bad days, Ben resents him for having the face of the man he loves.
As open and friendly as Ben is - was - he knows how to keep a secret.
(He doesn't tell Tim that, after a while, he stops having to pretend.)
