#coma fic

[femceliamgallagher]

“You touched us,” he whispers. “We were sixteen. Bit young, Noely, bit young.”

Should be put in the Louvre

[storyshark2005]

I go to a strict community college that has internet blockers on ao3 and your coma fic is the only one I have downloaded to read its amazing

marry me you legend

[oasis-lil-cherub]

[bumblebee-be]

crashing, i’m crashing right into you

Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz | 6.7k | teen and up audiences | read on ao3 | sequel

Buck gets an unfortunate call while driving and spirals before getting hit by a drunk driver. Surprise, coma!buck is real and can hear the things people (Eddie and Maddie) say while he's unconscious. Follows the struggles Buck deals with while trying to come back and the ones he has to face if he does.

6.07 spec, so the sperm donor issue is a Thing.

(inspired by this post)

-

Buck planned on telling Eddie. Really, he did.  He was sitting in front of Conner and Kameron and hoping his smile looked real and thinking what am I gonna tell Eddie? And then he was at the station a few days later and Hen was watching him and Eddie was venting about Chris and it became more about how can he possibly tell this to Eddie?

How can Buck tell Eddie- Eddie, who still has guilt over leaving Chris when he was born- Eddie, who is the best father Buck thinks he’s ever met- Eddie, who will see right through Buck the moment he opens his mouth- how can he tell him what he’s agreed to? That he’s going to be a father who walks away. That he knows it’s going to kill him, but he’s doing it anyway because he can’t say no. That once again, he’s whittling his worth down to a mere collection of parts. 

He can’t, is the conclusion he comes to. He can’t tell Eddie. Not yet, at least. Once… once the deed is done, then he’ll come clean. He’ll tell Eddie everything and he’ll close himself off to the pain because what’s done will be done and neither of them can change it. He’ll tell Eddie once it’s too late to back out, because Eddie is the one person that could give him that choice. 

So Buck keeps it to himself. He pulls Hen aside during their shift and begs her not to say anything to anyone and she looks at him with those devastatingly caring eyes and touches his arm gently and asks, “Are you sure?” And Buck swallows his tears, puts on a smile, and nods. And Hen lets him go. He goes straight to the bathroom and throws up. 

It’s an excruciating two weeks until his doctor’s appointment. He barely speaks to the team. Hen’s giving him space, the only one who knows what he’s dealing with. Chim has seemingly picked up on her behavior and hasn’t pressed Buck. Bobby called him into his office a couple times, asking if he’s alright. 

Buck’s been smiling and saying, “Fine, Cap. Just something I’m trying to figure out.” And Bobby’s been giving him a look like he knows something, smiling a little, and telling Buck he’s proud of him. Which… okay, it’s nice to hear, but Buck’s got no idea what he’s referring to. He even asked Hen if she told Bobby anything and she swore she hadn’t. Buck shrugged it off.

The main issue has been Eddie. Once everything blew over with Chris, it became increasingly hard to keep this from Eddie. Eddie… he sees Buck, sees right through him. No- not through him. Buck’s parent’s saw through him, like he was nothing but a ghost, haunting them. Which, in a way, he supposes he was. No, Eddie looks into Buck. Like he’s peeling back the layers to peer right into Buck’s very core, taking his defenses apart piece by piece and leaving him bare, everything laid out for Eddie to pick through and place back together. 

Hiding something from Eddie is awful. Because it means Buck can hardly even talk to him. It takes one look and Buck wants desperately to spill his guts, to confess his all sins and have them cleansed away with soft words and gentle touches. He’s been avoiding Eddie, for the most part. He knows it’s hurting Eddie. It’s hurting him. It’s an actual, physical pain. An aching, sharp and hollow in his chest. A burning, gathering in his throat and spreading through his veins. 

Eddie’s tried talking to him. He’s begged Buck to tell him was wrong, bribed him with dinners with Chris and activities- family activities. Usually, Buck’s defenseless against those. But… now they make a wave of nausea crest in his gut and tears burn behind his eyes. It’s something he’ll never have, not really. He can play pretend with his Diaz boys all he wants, but when it comes down to it- when it comes down to it, he’s not one of them. Not in the way he wants to be. 

And he wants, he wants so bad. He wants to come home every night to them, to wake up with them every morning. He wants to kiss away Eddie’s pout everytime something goes wrong between them, he wants to promise Chris that no matter how mad Eddie might seem, it’s only because he loves him and he’ll calm down. He wants to be there so Eddie doesn’t always have to be the bad cop, he wants to be there whenever Chris has something he feels he can’t tell his dad. He wants to cook them family dinners each night and shop for their groceries and kiss them both goodnight and take care of them when they’re sick. Buck wants. He wants it all, so badly it threatens to crush him sometimes when he remembers he’ll never get it. 

But he doesn’t want anyone else, either. 

He’s come to that conclusion after many, many hours of thinking about what in his life will actually make him happy. Girlfriends never have. His job does, but it’s not enough. His family does, but not in the way he needs. The closest he’s ever gotten is the few shining moments he’s had with his Diaz boys when it seems like maybe, just maybe, he could belong to them. He doesn’t want anyone else. 

He realized that after a conversation with Hen about being Conner and Kameron’s donor. 

“Are you really sure this is what you want, Buck?” she’d asked again. She’d asked countless times over the past couple weeks, and Buck had always nonend. This time, though, she’d pressed. “Why? I know you love to help people but- there’s got to be more to this, Buck.”

And he’d been a little tipsy, so he’d sighed heavily and said, “I’ve always- I’ve always wanted a kid of my own. Like, one I made, y’know? And… I know they won’t really be mine, but… it’s looking like the only chance I’ll get.” 

“Buck,” she’d murmured, “There’s someone out there, someone for you.” Yeah, Buck thought, he’s about a ten minute drive away. “You’ll find them eventually.”

“No,” Buck breathed, shaking his head. Because he’s already found them. And he can never have them. “No, I don’t- this is my chance.” Something in his voice must have indicated he didn’t want to talk about it, because Hen dropped it. 

Buck wants Eddie. He doesn’t want the next best thing, and it wouldn’t be fair to whoever that is. He’s going to die exactly how he’s living, half in Eddie’s world and half on his own. One foot inside the house, one foot inside the fire station. He’s trying to accept it. 

Two and a half weeks after he sat in front of his friend and promised him his child, Buck’s heart feels about ready to beat out of his chest as he walks towards the doctor’s office. Vaguely, he wonders if he’s having a panic attack. He shakes his head at himself. No, no, he’s fine. He’s fine. He’s gonna go in there, get this done, and then walk away. Just like he agreed. He’s also definitely, definitely not going to think about Eddie. 

It’s hard not to, though, because he convinced himself to say yes to Eddie’s invitation to dinner and movie night at the Diaz house tomorrow night. He’s going to tell Eddie. Tomorrow, he’s going to tell Eddie. Once the sample has been processed, once there’s no backing out. Yeah. 

He takes a deep breath and opens the door to the doctor’s office. It’s going to be fine. 

-

Buck spends the next twenty-four hours in a numb, detached state. He barely sleeps. He goes through the motions of his life. He deep cleans his entire loft because he has the day off but he has to do something. He reads a third of the newest self-help books he’s found, but sitting still allows the nauseous feeling in his gut to build and threaten to overwhelm him. He goes to the gym and pushes himself to almost dangerous levels, until two of the other patrons have to run over and lift off the barbell that’s attempting to crush his throat. He takes that as a sign to go home. He remakes his bed three times until you could bounce a coin off it, reorganizes his book shelf, even cleans his toilet. 

Finally, mercifully, the clock hits 5:45 and it’s time to head over to Eddie’s. Climbing in the jeep, his stomach rumbles and he absently realizes he hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. Hopefully Eddie’s made something good. His cooking has improved a lot lately, but he’ll still occasionally produce something that Chris often likens to an “old shoe.”

He only makes it a few blocks before he gets the call. His phone starts ringing and Buck taps the car display, answering without looking at the caller ID. An unfamiliar voice crackles through the jeep’s audio system. 

“Is this Mr. Evan Buckley?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah that’s me. Buck is fine.”

“Hello Mr. Buckley, this is Dr. Alice Offley.”

“Oh! Doctor, of course, hello. Is everything alright?”

“I-” she hesitates and Buck’s heart begins to sink. “There’s no easy way to say this, Mr. Buckley, but I have some concerns regarding your medical history that I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Y-yeah,” Buck whispers. “Yeah, of course.” 

“It says here you’ve suffered both a pulmonary embolism as well as blood clots as recently as 2019?”

“Yes, yeah, but that was- that was a firefighting incident, I’m fine now.”

The doctor only hums thoughtfully. Then, “And there’s a history of cancer in your family?” Buck’s blood runs cold, his heart settling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Y-yeah,” he chokes out. “Is that- does that mean I can’t-”

“It means I’ll have to let your recipients know. There are some very serious risks involved that they need to be made aware of.”

“Y-you mean th-the kid could-”

“The child conceived from your DNA could be genetically predisposed to be at risk for cancer, specifically pediatric leukemia.” 

The world goes mute. White noise rings in Buck’s ears. The road in front of him blurs. He must hang up, because the screen goes dark. Tears burn his eyes. His chest feels like it’s caving in on itself, compressing his heart tighter and tighter until it’s about to burst. He can’t breathe, he can’t see, he can’t hear. Everything has gone muted and numb and this can’t be real. It feels like- it feels like he’s being crushed by the firetruck again, but this time there’s no one here to hold his hand. 

And then the impact slams him sideways and his head hits the steering wheel and it feels like nothing at all. 

-

Gaining consciousness is a struggle. The darkness calls to him, soothing and alluring and gentle. The blaring horn is the only thing he can latch onto to drag himself out of it. The sound is deafening and nonstop. It’s- it’s coming from his car, he realizes. He can’t see anything, even as he fights to open his eyes. The world swims in and out of view and it’s dark, it’s all dark. Every part of his body hurts. As much as he struggles, he can’t move and he can’t remember what happened. 

“H-he-hey S-Siri,” he croaks out. The small chime sounds and relief blooms in his chest. “Call 911.”

The line only rings twice before a male voice answers, “911, what’s your emergency?”

“M-Maddie Buckley,” he gasps. 

“I’m sorry sir, what was that?”

“Operator Maddie Buckley,” he begs, his voice breaking into a sob. “Please, please. Maddie.” The line clicks and then,

“Hello?” Buck whimpers out a sob of relief. “This is Maddie, who is this?”

“Mads,” Buck chokes. “Maddie.”

“Buck?” Panic creeps into her voice. “Evan is that you?”

“Accident,” his words are growing slurred and he realizes he doesn’t have long. “I need- I need you t-to call-” He coughs, gasping in breaths as the pain begins to overwhelm him. His vision swims and his breathing is ragged, raspy, pained. “Call Eddie.”

“Evan, where are you?” Maddie pleads, nearly hysteric. 

“Please,” he cries. “Please, promise me. Promise me you’ll tell him-”

“Evan, stop.”

“Maddie, listen,” he gasps. “You have to promise me, promise you’ll tell him I’m sorry.”

“No.” Buck can hear the tears in her voice. “No, no. No. You- you can tell him yourself. No.” 

“Maddie, I love you. But I need you to promise me you’ll tell him, and tell Chris. Tell them- tell them I loved them a-and I’m sorry, god, I’m so sorry.” His words are slow now, and he can only hope they’re clear enough for her to hear him. She knows, though. He knows she knows. She’ll tell them. But still, he whispers, “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Maddie sobs. “But Evan, I need you to stay with me. Please, please don’t leave me. Stay awake, come on baby brother.”

“I love you. ‘M s’rry,” Buck slurs, and then he lets go and the darkness swallows him. He doesn’t even hear the last thing he whispers, “I think I’d have been a good dad.”

-

There’s a hand in his. Rough and warm, calluses brushing against his skin, holding onto him tightly. This is the first thing he’s aware of. The next is the beeping. Monotonous and steady, repetitive. It’s a familiar sound, but he can’t place it. Third is the smell. Again, he can’t place it. But it’s earthy and sweet and just… the only word that comes to him is home. 

He’s floating, not really anywhere at all. He’s not in the blackness anymore. Now it’s more gray. He can’t feel anything except the hand holding his. Then the hand shifts, pulling his up, and soft lips brush against his knuckles. The lips slide over his fingers and then a cheek, damp with tears, is resting against their joined hands. 

He hears a sniffle, small and heartbroken. He wants to reach out, to wipe away the tears, to kiss away the crying. Then the person clears their throat. When they talk, the voice comes out gravelly and rough. 

“I need you to wake up, Buck.” It’s more a plea than a command, heavy with grief. “Please. Please, I- I don’t- I can’t do this without you, man. Any of it. Please wake up. Please.” And Buck wants to. He wants to come back to this person whose name flits from his grasp but he knows he loves more than anything in this world. He wants to do whatever it takes to take the pain out of their voice. 

There’s a shaky, tearful sigh, and then there’s a hand on his forehead, adjusting his curls gently, fingertips brushing his skin. “It wasn’t your fault. Maddie- Maddie said that you kept saying sorry. That she was begging you to tell her where you were, but you just… kept saying sorry. Sorry to me. Me and Chris. Like- like you thought we’d blame you. She said you used every breath you had trying to reach us.” The tears are coming now, dripping onto Buck’s skin and rolling toward his wrist. 

The person takes a deep, broken up breath. “She said it was almost too late when they got to you. You almost- you almost didn’t- you almost didn’t make it, Evan.” The words are hitching, threaded with stifled sobs. “You still might not, and I don’t know what the hell happens if you don’t. I can’t- I can’t tell him, Buck. I can’t tell him he’s never going to see you again.”

Buck strains, aching to scream I’m here! He’s going to see me! The effort makes the grayness spin and darken, everything growing farther away. He can’t feel the hand as solidly now, the beeping is dulled. He still fights because he doesn’t want to leave, not right now. He wants to hear what else this person’s going to say to him. 

But he loses his battle, slipping back into the blackness. He doesn’t hear Eddie say, “How can I tell him he’s never going to see his father again?”

-

It feels more solid the next time Buck reaches the surface. He feels steadier, a little less like he’s floating. There’s a hand in his again. There’s the same beeping. The same scent hovering around him. But now he can feel the soft sheets beneath his other hand, the pillow supporting his head. He’s closer. 

The voice comes again, and he can taste the name on his tongue. “It’s been a week. They- they don’t know if you’re going to wake up. They say the longer it takes, the less likely it is. I don’t- I don’t want to believe them, Buck. Th-they don’t know you. They don’t know that you are a fighter and that there’s no way in hell you’re going to leave your family, not like this. You- you’re not- you’re not gonna leave me, Buck. You’re not. You didn’t- you didn’t drag me out of that street two years ago just to- to die on me before I get the chance to tell you…” 

Tell me what?! Buck wants to scream, but his body won’t obey him. 

“No,” the voice says, as if they heard Buck. “No, I’ll tell you when you wake up. I’m not… I’m not saying this until you can say it back.” There’s a shifting nearby and then the hand squeezes his own and those same soft lips brush Buck’s forehead, pressing the softest of kisses into his skin. “Please come back so I can tell you. Please.”

There’s silence for a few moments as Buck struggles to no avail. Then, “Chris misses you.” A face flashes in Buck’s mind. Curly hair, like his. Blue eyes, just a few shades off from his own. Glasses. Big, goofy grin. For a beat, he thinks he’s seeing the child he could have had. Then- no, the name sinks in and no, this isn’t his kid. It’s just the one he wishes was his. “He’s been asking about you, if he can see you. I- I keep telling him no. You- you wouldn’t want him to see you like this, when you can’t respond. I know that. But.. it’s hard Buck,” he admits, his voice breaking, “it’s so hard. I don’t want the next time he sees you to be… to be at a funeral. I really, really need you to come back.”

It’s more painful than the crash itself when Buck realizes he can’t do what the voice is asking. 

-

The third time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the hand in his is different. It’s smaller, more delicate. Softer, lacking the callouses. The voice is sweeter and less rough, sadder, when the person speaks. 

“Hi Evan. I, um,” there’s a small laugh, “I’m never really sure if you can hear me. Eddie changes his mind every time he tries to talk to you. But- I just- I wanted you to know. I’ll tell you again, when you wake up.” A pause. “If you wake up, I guess. But it- it might bring you some peace, I think. I told them, Evan. Just like- like you asked me to. I told Eddie first and he said I could talk to Chris. I rephrased a bit cause you weren’t- you weren’t all that lucid, y’know? But I- I knew what you wanted and I did it, I think. I hope. They knew already, of course they did. But he still… Eddie wanted- wanted to hear the call, Evan. I know- I know you wouldn’t have wanted him to hear you like that but… He’s grieving. I couldn’t say no, couldn’t keep that from him.”

There’s a small, short, teary laugh and then a chin is propped on their joined hands. Similar to the first time he came to, a hand brushes over his forehead. The fingers are softer and nails lightly scratch over his skin. “I hope you’re not mad when you wake up. It’s gonna be a when, yeah Evan? They- they tell me I should get used to saying if. I don’t want to. I want to believe you’re fighting, that you’re gonna come back to me. To them.” A heavy sigh. “I love you, baby brother.”

-

The first voice is back, gruff and warm and spreading through Buck like the glow of sunlight.The first thing he hears is, “I listened to the call. I- I made Maddie let me, so if you’re gonna be pissed at someone when you wake up, be pissed at me. I just… I had to hear it.” A sad, bitter laugh. The voice turns wet with tears, thick with emotion. Something in Buck’s soul aches. “Y-you were- you were choking on your own blood, Buck. I could hear it, over the phone. And still apologizing. Begging to be forgiven. While you were drowning in your own blood, bleeding out in your car on your own. Begging- begging for me. And shit, I was just like ten minutes away, man. But I wasn’t- I wasn’t there.”

Buck’s hands are clasped between two of the rough, calloused ones. They squeeze his fingers and something wet splatters on his skin. Tears, he realizes dimly. The person is crying, breaths hitching as they struggle to talk. “You needed me, and I wasn’t there. I didn’t- I didn’t even know until Maddie called me. And by the time I got there… you looked dead, Evan. I thought you were dead. But they- they were loading you into the ambulance.” A wet laugh. “They tried to stop me. Tried to hold me back. Didn’t work very well. I think I gave Hernandez a black eye. You remember Hernandez, yeah? From the C shift. He finally recognized me and let me through. They barely let me ride in the ambulance with you, but I threatened to call Bobby and no one wanted to fight that bad. Plus… you were in really bad shape. There was no time to argue.”

The hands shift, one leaving his and landing on his cheek, cradling his face softly, fingertips barely brushing over skin. “I thought you might die on the ride. Then in surgery. Then after, when you didn’t wake up. I still- you still might. They’ve been telling us to say if a lot. If you recover fully. If you remember anything. If you wake up at all. Maddie’s been trying. The rest of the crew, too. I can’t- I can’t bring myself to. It feels… it feels like I’d be giving up on you. Because you are going to wake up. You’re gonna come back to me, yeah?” The fingers skim up his face, brushing through his hair. 

“You just have to fight, cariño,” the voice whispers. 

Buck doesn’t know how much fight he has left.  

-

The next time Buck brushes with consciousness, the hand isn’t there. Buck panics, though he’s not sure why. He can feel more this time, the weight of his own body, a pricking sensation in his arm. The bed under him, the air on his skin. He’s so, so close. 

There’s a soft breath beside him and then fingers are intertwining with his and Buck feels like he breathes for the first time in he doesn’t know how long. 

“Hey Buck.” It’s the same voice, but this time when the name comes to him, Buck latches onto it like a lifeline, pulls it close to him and cradles it in his mind. Eddie. “I don’t even know if you’re hearing me. The doctors say it’s likely you can but… I dunno. I feel like- like if you could hear me, you’d come back. It’s stupid, yeah, I know. But- listen, Buck. If you can hear me, don’t- don’t even try to say anything, yeah? Just- just-” He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand. Please.” Eddie squeezes his hand as if to show him what he means. Then there’s a weight on his hip and he realizes it’s Eddie, resting his forehead against Buck’s body. “Please, Evan, just squeeze my hand.”

And Buck does.

-

It doesn’t happen how Buck thought it would. He doesn’t squeeze Eddie’s hand and open his eyes and everything’s fine. No, he squeezes Eddie’s hand and he hears Eddie shocked, “Buck?” and then the darkness swallows him immediately. 

The hand is still in his when he comes to again. He tests his boundaries, asking his fingers to twitch. They do, and the hand squeezes back instantly. 

“Buck?” Eddie’s voice is almost crystal clear now and Buck feels as if he might cry. But his eyes won’t open and his body still won’t obey him, not even his tear ducts. All he can do is squeeze the fingers in his. “Buck, it’s me, I’m right here.” Eddie sounds almost giddy with disbelief and Buck squeezes his hand again, elated to offer any semblance of relief and always desperate to make Eddie smile. 

“He’s awake!” Eddie’s voice calls. Immediately, a door is opening and there's feet shuffling and voices filling the room. Buck can barely filter them and all he can think is no I’m not. If he was awake, his eyes would be open. His body would listen to him. A panic seizes him suddenly and he starts rapidly squeezing Eddie’s hand, frantic. He can’t live like this, not if he’s not going to get better. He would rather die. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” Eddie gently shushes him, squeezing back and setting a hand on his face, stroking his skin softly. “It’s okay, alright? Doctor Hersen is gonna explain a little.”

“Firefighter Buckley, can you hear me?” A new, older, strict voice reaches Buck. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once. 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “Yeah, he can.” 

The doctor makes a soft humming sound. “Can you do anything else? Open your eyes, control how long you’re conscious?” Buck doesn’t move. He can’t answer. “Let’s try this; one squeeze for yes, two for no until you recover a bit more, alright? Because you will continue to recover, Evan. You just have to be patient with yourself.” Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand once. 

“He gets it.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Two squeezes and Eddie relays the answer. 

“Alright, that’s a potentially triggering subject to expose you to, so we’re going to refrain until you’re a bit more stable. Do you remember who you are?”

One squeeze. 

“Do you-” That’s Eddie’s voice, cutting in. He clears his throat, fear creeping into his words. “D’you remember who I am?”

One squeeze and Eddie lets out a long, relieved breath. Immediately, half a dozen voices start up again. Buck can’t isolate them, can’t understand them all. Panic starts seizing him again and he’s powerless to do anything but move his left hand, so he starts shaking. His hand, then his whole body is trembling. 

“Stop talking!” Eddie orders immediately, resuming the soothing stroking of Buck’s skin. “Everyone- everyone has to get out, it’s freaking him out.” 

The clamoring doesn’t stop and Buck searches for the darkness this time, yearning for the peace. It takes him in willingly and he manages one last weak squeeze of Eddie’s hand before he drifts off. 

-

The squeezing lasts what feels like maybe a day to Buck. They ask him lots of questions. Some he understands and can answer. Some he understands but can’t answer. Some are just a blur. Memories start coming back, bits and flashes. Getting the call, though he can’t determine who it was he was talking to. The car slamming into him. Calling 911. Talking to Maddie. The 911 call is the most frustrating to remember. He knows he asked for Maddie. He recalls begging her to tell Eddie he was sorry, that he loved them all. But that’s- that’s it. From the sound of it, it was worse than he remembers. It’s probably a good thing. All of it- it’s all just a jumbled mess, but he’s slowly piecing it together, fragment by fragment.

And then one time, he comes back to the surface and he feels Eddie’s hand in his and he smells Eddie’s body wash and he turns his head and he opens his eyes and there he is. Eddie. By his bed, as he has been for god knows how long. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair messy and several days of stubble shadowing his jaw. He’s never looked more beautiful. His eyes are closed, like he might be asleep. 

Buck squeezes his hand and tries to say something, but all that comes out is a hollow croak, somewhere between a moan and a wheeze. Eddie’s eyes fly open and tears well immediately. 

“Buck.” It comes out choked, heavy with shock and disbelief, squeezing his hand so hard it hurts and reaching a hand toward his face. He stops just short of touching Buck’s skin, but Buck gives him a short, jerky nod and Eddie’s hand lands on the side of his face, brushing his thumb over his cheek and wiping away the tear that has already fallen as Eddie pitches forward, burying his face in the crook of Buck’s neck and holding onto him for dear life. His tears wet the skin of Buck’s neck, but he couldn’t care less as he grips Eddie’s hand back like a vice. 

He tries to speak again, to ask for something to drink, but only lets out another croak. Eddie jerks back instantly. “Water,” he says, nodding. “Water, water, yeah of course.” Something bursts in Buck’s chest at Eddie’s immediate understanding of what Buck needs. The hand leaves his face but he can’t mourn the loss, because Eddie grabs a cup and brings it to Buck’s lips and the water trickles into his mouth and down his parched throat and Buck lurches forward, forcing Eddie to tilt the cup forward and let him drink it all in one go.

When the cup is drained, Eddie pulls it away and then simply waits, his eyes searching Buck’s face. Buck breathes for a moment, then lets the corner of his mouth turn up. 

“Hey,” he says. His voice is hoarse from unuse, but Eddie looks at him like it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. 

“Hey,” he chokes out around his tears. “Th-the others will wanna know-”

“In a minute,” Buck cuts in. “Just…” he brushes his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “In a minute…” 

“I didn’t know if I’d ever see your eyes again,” Eddie says after a beat. “It sounds strange but-”

“It doesn’t,” Buck promises, looking at Eddie again, feeling his lips form a wide smile. “Not to me.”

Eddie just swallows hard and nods, shifting to clasp Buck’s hand between his.

“I heard you,” Buck tells him. “Not- not all the time, I don’t think. But… I heard you.”

Tears threaten to spill past Eddie’s lashes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “You- you had something to tell me? Once I was awake, you said.”

A look of surprise crosses Eddie’s face and he blinks once, twice. Then he opens his mouth and-

The door opens. A tall man in a white coat steps inside as Eddie turns to look. The man spots Buck and his eyes widen in surprise. 

“He’s awake.” That’s the third voice Buck heard, the doctor. He steps forward in three swift steps, holding out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Buckley, I’m Doctor-”

“Buck is fine,” Buck interrupts, smiling but making no move to let go of Eddie’s hand and shake the man’s. 

Buck is fine. The words echo in his ears and he feels his brows draw together. Buck is fine. And then it all comes rushing back. The call, the test results, the crash. Doctor Offley telling him any children he has may be at risk for leukemia. The icy, electric realization that the one life he was brought into this world to save is also the very reason he cannot ever bring another life into it. 

A shock runs through Buck and whatever the doctor is saying now is lost to him as his ears start ringing and the world starts spinning. He can’t do this, he can’t- he- he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to recover from this, why he should recover from this-

“Buck,” Edide’s voice cuts through the panic, his hands squeezing Buck’s tightly. “Buck what’s going on?”

“I- I can’t-” He can’t breathe.

Distantly, he hears Eddie say. “Doctor, could you…?” And then, “Okay, Buck it’s just you and me. Breathe, c’mon, breathe with me, bud. Deep breaths, okay? In… out… in…” he continues for several breaths until Buck feels somewhat more grounded and looks at Eddie again. 

“Sorry,” he stammers out. “I- I’m sorry.” 

Eddie shakes his head, shushing him. “Nothing to apologize for, Evan. You can let yourself not be okay for a while. You- you almost died.” His voice cracks. “You could have died.”

Buck lets out a soft, dry snort, dropping his head back. “Yeah. What a shame that would’ve been.”

Eddie doesn’t even know how to reply to that. The words stick in his throat, held back by the sudden, icy fear clawing up his neck. He’s known something’s been wrong with Buck for a while. But maybe- maybe it’s way worse than what Eddie ever imagined. 

“Wh- what- how could you even say that, Buck?”

Tears well in Buck’s eyes, making his vision swim as he stares straight ahead at the ceiling. “I’m broken, Eddie. They should- I should fuckin’ donate my body to science so they can figure out what made me defective. Cause there- there’s something broken in me. It’s- it’s why I couldn’t save Daniel. Why any child I have will suffer the same fate he did.” 

“Buck, what are you talking about?” Eddie begs, lost beyond belief. Buck lets out a long sigh. This definitely isn't how he planned on telling him.

“I agreed to be a sperm donor,” he says. “For my friend, Conner, and his wife. They- they want to have a kid and they can’t so- so they asked me and I- I agreed.” The tears spill over, dripping down his face. 

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, and he sounds so sad it shatters something deep in Buck’s chest. His breath hitches with a barely contained sob. “Why? Why would you- why would you agree to that? You could never be-”

“A father,” Buck finishes. Eddie shakes his head. 

“A father who walks away. A parent who doesn’t know his child.” Of course Eddie cuts right to the core of it in less than a minute, slices Buck open and reveals the very thing that has been tormenting him since he said yes. 

“It’s the only chance I was gonna get,” Buck whispers, too tired to even try and lie. 

“Buck, what do you even- how can you think that?”

“Because it’s true.”

Eddie just shakes his head. He’ll deal with that in a minute. But for now… “Why wouldn’t you tell me? You’ve been struggling with this for- who knows how long-”

“Almost three weeks before the accident,” Buck offers. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” 

Buck hesitates for a long moment, but the answer comes out of its own volition. “I didn’t… I couldn’t handle disappointing you.”

“Buck,” Eddie whispers, and he sounds absolutely heartbroken by Buck’s confession. Buck forces himself to look at him, at the tears turning Eddie’s eyes into shining crystals. “Sweetheart, you could never disappoint me, okay? If you- if you really wanted this, I’d have supported it.” Even as the term of endearment causes a burst of warmth in his chest, Buck’s gaze flicks away and Eddie frowns slightly. “That wasn’t the problem, was it?” He can’t answer. “You were afraid I would see how much this is breaking you, that I would help you not do it.”

“I had to,” Buck chokes out. “I had to do it.”

“Because it’s your only chance to have a child?”

Buck nods.

“Bullshit.” It comes out a growl, tinged with anger. “Bull shit, Buck. For the love of- you already have a child, Evan.” Buck’s eyes snap to him, his expression struggling between shock, confusion, and hope. Eddie sets his hand back on the side of Buck’s face. He lets out a teary laugh, shaking his head and looking at Buck with pure adoration in his eyes. “What the fuck did you think my making you Chris’s legal guardian was?”

Buck just stares at him for several breaths until he realizes Eddie expects an actual answer. “That I’m- that I’m a backup?” he offers weakly. Eddie just shakes his head again, tears dripping down his cheeks even as a wide smile splits his face. 

“You’re an idiot, sometimes.” Buck blinks, taken aback. “Evan Buckley, you have been a second father to that kid since the very moment you met him. Even you can’t possibly have missed that.”

“I thought- I just thought-”

“He tells people at school he has two dads, Buck. He has since we built him that skateboard and he went into class the next day and proclaimed that ‘his dads made him a skateboard’ and I got a very confused call from a very frazzled Ana.” And Buck’s crying, but he can’t help but laugh at the image. “You’re his dad, Buck.”

“But you-”

“Yeah, I’m his father. I’m all he had for a while. We were doing alright. But there was always… there was always something missing.” His fingers card through the hair on the side of Buck’s head. “You. You were missing. You came barrelling into our lives and you filled the hole we had been convincing ourselves didn’t exist. It was you, Buck. You make our family whole. You’re everything we ever needed, everything I ever wanted.”

Buck starts. “Everything- everything you wanted?”

Eddie grins. “Ask me what I had to tell you.”

“Eddie, what-”

“Ask me.” 

Buck takes in a shaky breath, neither of them breaking their locked gaze. “What were you gonna tell me when I woke up, Eddie?”

“That I am completely and madly and foolishly and embarrassingly and entirely head over heels in love with you, Evan Buckley.” 

The breath catches in Buck’s throat and there are tears welling in his eyes again and this doesn’t even feel real. He lets out a short, disbelieving, shocked laugh. “You love me?” It comes out as a whisper, as if he fears if he were any louder, it would shatter the spell. 

“Wholly and completely, Buck.” Buck just stares at him, face breaking into a wide grin. “You got a response or…?”

“I think you should kiss me,” Buck says. “I think you should kiss me right now.”

And, well, Eddie really didn’t need to be told the second time. He’s gentle, careful, cradling Buck’s jaw in his hand and kissing him slowly, softly. He’s mindful of Buck’s bruises even as their fingers twist together and his fingertips press into Buck’s jaw, tilting his head to get just the right angle and it’s so fucking perfect Buck could cry. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and more. If only he’d known…

Eddie pulls back after what feels like an eternity, searching Buck’s eyes. “What are you thinking right now?”

“That if I knew getting hit by a car was all it took to get you to kiss me, I’d have done that years ago,” Buck replies. Eddie lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head as Buck grins. Buck takes his free hand and tilts Eddie’s face back towards his, fingertips under his jaw. “And that I love you more than I thought was humanly possible. That our family is everything I’ve ever wanted and more, that it was something I didn’t think I’d ever get.”

Eddie leans forward, resting his forehead against Buck’s. His lips brush Buck’s nose. “I think you’ve had it a lot longer than you know.”

“I think you’re right,” Buck breathes. “And all it took  to realize that was a week-long coma.”

[sweetlittlevampire]

and when you go (like summer gives to the rain)

Rating: T | 19805 words | 3 chapters | Completed

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting | Romance | mentions of past trauma | Childhood Friends | Getting Together | Getting Back Together| Coma | Comatose Lan Wangji | mentions of a car accident | Happy Ending| Angst with a Happy Ending | Angst| Emotional Healing | Kid Fic | Sharing a Bed | Mentions of past criminal activities

For Lan Wangji, loving or being loved inevitably leads to grieving. He's seen it happen countless times.

When he's hit by a car and put into an induced coma for a few days, his mind wanders, and he gets the opportunity to revisit different periods of his life, and starts to reconsider his view on things.

In his coma, he hears the voice of the boy he once loved but thought he'd lost - though that might have been just a dream. Or was it?

Wei Wuxian volunteers at the hospital to reduce anxiety in child patients. One day, he meets a boy who's crying for his father. His day gets even weirder when Wei Wuxian meets the boy's uncle, who asks him for a special favour.

AO3 link is in the replies because tumblr doesn’t like me today.

[my-one-love-is-music]

Free Me From This Prison Called My Head

Summary: It's been a year since Tim fell into a coma. He was small swamped by the hospital sheets in the Cave, but they knew there had to be some way to wake him up. It had been a year. And they were finally going to get him out.

A/N: This is my last fic that I wrote during Nanowrimo back in November and I'm so excited to share it with everyone! I've had this idea for a long time and have been wanting to write it for so long so please enjoy because this was another great piece to put together!

Also on AO3!

Jason stared at Tim’s limp body in the bed they’d set up in the Cave. He was hooked up to several machines that tracked his breathing and heartrate and even his brain patterns to make sure everything was operating as it should. He looked smaller than Jason remembered but he knew Tim had been deteriorating for a while.

That usually happened when the only thing a person was living off of were the liquid nutrients pumped into your veins.

Jason remembered the night when he’d first heard what happened to Tim. He was off on some mission with one of the many crazy scientists that always seemed to pop up. He’d been hit with a dart that injected something into his blood stream, causing him to fall unconscious.

They’d tried to isolate the component that was there, but it took a month to locate it and three more before they even had an initial test dose mixed. Their hope hadn’t lasted long when the injected dose caused Tim to have a seizure.

Jason was glad he hadn’t been present when that happened, but the hollow looks in both Dick’s and Bruce’s eyes had said more than enough, and when he watched the Cave’s footage later he had to slink off to a corner for a few hours to process what he’d seen.

After that instance they weren’t willing to try and make any more antidotes and started to research other cures.

Another two months passed before they decided to look at Tim’s brainwaves and the patterns that appeared. Even then it was only an accident they realized Tim’s brain activity constantly replicated that of someone in deep REM sleep.

It wasn’t common for coma patients to show signs of a deep sleep cycle which lead them to their next point of possible contact with Tim. If they could find some way to get into his head and communicate, they could find out what attacked him, or pull him out of what was holding him under.

And now they’d finally managed to develop a technology that could let them connect with Tim during his dreams. They could only hope that it would work, and they would be able to communicate with Tim in the middle of whatever dream he was living and had been living for the past year.

“We’re ready to go,” Bruce said, pulling Jason from his ruminating thoughts over Tim. “Are you ready, Dick?”

“More than ready,” Dick said where he was spread out on the table next to Tim. He was already connected to his own heart monitor and had a band around his head. “I’m ready to bring him back.”

Bruce nodded. “Close your eyes and even out your breathing.”

Dick sucked in a deep breath and held it before letting it out through his mouth. The twin beats on the heart monitors were loud in the silence between them.

“I’m booting up the machine now. You should be pulled under within the next ten or fifteen seconds.”

Bruce’s eyes stayed fixed on the screen which remained black as Dick’s breathing continued to even out. The image was dim and fuzzy at first and Jason squinted as he watched the screen come to life.

The view on the screen moved around quickly, much how a person would look at the streets around them.

“Is there anything we can do so we don’t have to watch through Dick’s eyes?” Jason asked. “This is making me nauseous and isn’t the best way to get an idea of his surroundings.”

Bruce hummed under his breath and tapped out several things on his computer. Jason blinked when the view on the screen shifted and they were watching Dick look at the buildings around him.

“I gotta admit, I wasn’t actually expecting that to work,” Jason muttered.

“I’m beyond understanding how most of this is operating at this point,” Bruce admitted. “There are a lot of factors here that I never expected to come into contact with in my life.”

“Fair enough,” Jason agreed.

Dick moved down the sidewalk, eyes fixated on the buildings around him as he took in what Jason was quickly realizing was Gotham. It was…lighter than Jason ever imagined Gotham could be. The streets looked clean and people looked happy and not as though they were distrustful of everyone around them or ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

“You know what we didn’t consider when we came up with this idea?” Jason asked. “The fact that we can’t talk to whoever’s under and we have to sit on the sidelines.”

“It would’ve taken longer to try and advance the tech we’re using enough to get to that point. If you’d like to keep researching while I map Dick’s progress, be my guest,” Bruce said.

Jason said nothing and watched as Dick jogged across the street and turned towards the largest skyscrapers the city housed. He made a beeline for Drake Industries after catching sight of the sign and the people walking in and out of the doors.

Dick pushed inside, ignoring the people who gave him curious looks at needing to be in the building when he wasn’t wearing a suit. He strode to the front desk and flashed his best smile.

“Hi, excuse me,” he said.

The woman working the front desk looked up and smiled politely. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I have a meeting scheduled with Tim Drake,” he asked.

She frowned and raised an eyebrow, giving Dick a onceover. “He’s currently in a meeting. What’s your name so that I can let you know you’re here?” she asked, voice filled with false politeness.

“Dick Grayson,” he answered easily.

She pursed her lips and looked over him again. “You certainly don’t appear to have the appearance of Mr. Grayson.”

Dick frowned. “I’m sorry, but what’s that supposed to mean?”

She waved her hand. “Nothing, nothing. I will pass on the notice of your visit to Mr. Drake and he can set up an appointment with you when he’s next available.”

Dick smiled. “Thank you so much. I appreciate the help.”

He turned on his heel and rolled his eyes before he strode over to the door, eyes scanning the room around him. He pushed through the doors and turned to the right, walking in front of the large windows so the secretary would see his departure and assume he was leaving.

Once he was out of sight, he made a beeline for the nearest crosswalk and jogged across the street to the other side. He shoved his hands in his pockets and strode back in the direction of Drake Industries, slipping into the alley across the street so he could watch the front doors without garnering suspicion.

He nestled into the shadows and kept watch as the sun slowly moved across the sky.

Jason accepted the tea and sandwiches Alfred brought around while they watched Dick wait in the alley. He didn’t budge from his spot and Jason wondered if he could feel hunger in the dream world. Or if he’d bother to eat if he did.

Bruce and Jason froze when they saw Tim push out of the double doors and turn towards the parking garage next door. He had a messenger back over his shoulder and was smiling, posture relaxed as he walked. The bags he usually had under his eyes were completely gone and he looked like he’d never missed a night’s sleep in his life.

Dick wasted no time when he appeared. He wove through the cars that were inching forward down the street and caught up to Tim in an instant.

“Tim!” he said, gripping his shoulder.

Tim gasped and whirled around, pulling out of his grasp. “Wha-what?” he asked. He stopped and squinted at Dick. “Who are you? You’re not looking for money, are you?”

Dick frowned. “No, Tim it’s me. It’s Dick.”

Tim took a step backward, eyeing him warily. “I don’t know anyone named Dick.”

Jason frowned and saw the expression mirrored on Dick’s own face.

“Dick Grayson,” he said slowly. “We’ve known each other for years.”

Tim’s earlier wariness disappeared, replaced with concerned. “I barely know Dick Grayson. The only time I’ve interacted with him has been at charity galas since he’s not involved with the work between Wayne Enterprises and Drake Industries. Look, is there someone I can call for you? Are you lost? Whoever you’re looking for, I’m pretty sure it’s not me.”

Dick plastered on a polite smile and took a step back, shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry. I guess the mistake was mine. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Tim nodded but still looked concerned. He backed up a step and hesitated but still managed to turn on his heel and walk off. Dick didn’t linger and turned in the opposite direction and hurried away, head ducked to everyone around him.

“What the hell just happened?” Jason asked.

Bruce shook his head. “Let’s find out.” He tapped on his keyboard and the picture slowly faded. Jason heard Dick’s breathing change and in a couple minutes he was blinking his eyes open and sitting up.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, turning to face him.

Dick sighed and pulled off the headband when he sat up. “I don’t know. He didn’t recognize me at all. I don’t know what’s going on but if we can’t get him to recognize us in there, I don’t think there’s any way to pull him out of the world he’s trapped in. Maybe you’d be more persuasive?” he asked, looking at Bruce with hopeful eyes.

Bruce hummed. “I guess that should be our next avenue. You remember how to operate this?” he asked with a wave to the console.

Dick nodded and passed the headband to Bruce. He pulled the wires connecting him to the heart monitor off and stuck them on Bruce, only a moment passing when the machine beeped in protest.

Bruce laid back on the bed and Dick started typing in commands on the computer. Bruce evened his breathing without being prompted and he fell asleep within seconds.

The screen faded into existence like it had the first time and Jason watched as Bruce appeared in the same place Dick had. The light was dim now that night was falling and Bruce quickly navigated the streets, aiming for the library.

Jason was confused as to what he was doing until he sat down at a computer and started researching things about Tim, zeroing in on his apartment complex. He copied down the address and wiped his search history before leaving the library and making his way through the streets towards the apartments.

None of the other people on the street gave Bruce their attention.

Jason squinted at the screen. “Hey,” he said, pointing at the people he passed. “Don’t these people look kind of out of it?”

Dick looked where he was pointing. “I guess? They’re not exactly real so I don’t think they’d behave the same way.”

“No, I know,” Jason said. “But earlier when you were around them, they had more personality, like they knew they were being watched.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with the time of the dream?” Dick asked. “Maybe because it’s night they have less of a reason to be in character I guess?”

“Maybe. I think we should keep an eye on them going forward though,” Jason muttered.

“This whole situation is weird,” Dick admitted. “Technology forcing someone into a dream coma wasn’t something I ever even could’ve imagined happening to us, but here we are.”

Jason sighed and nodded.

Bruce turned the corner on the screen and slowed to a stop in front of a resplendent apartment building. He looked up and over the windows, neck arching back when he tried to see to the very top. He turned towards the door and walked inside.

He smiled and nodded at the receptionist in the lobby and continued past towards the elevators. She smiled back and she didn’t even look suspicious at Bruce’s appearance.

Bruce stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. He crossed his arms and waited as the elevator steadily climbed before slowing and letting the doors slide open.

Bruce stepped out and strode down the center of the hallway, making for the door at the very end of the hallway set into the opposite wall. He knocked when he approached and waited.

Dick’s shoulders tensed as he waited and Jason leaned forward, waiting to see what would happen.

The door opened and Tim furrowed his brow. He looked up and down at Bruce and for a split-second Jason thought this might work.

“Bruce Wayne?” Tim asked, flabbergasted. “What are you doing here? Why would you need to come here?”

“I needed to inquire about something with you,” he answered smoothly.

Tim stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “And what would that be?”

Bruce clasped his hands behind his back and gave Tim a onceover. “I believe you met my adopted son earlier today. Dick Grayson?”

Tim hesitated. “I ran into someone claiming to be him, but he didn’t act how he usually does…” he started, tone careful as he tried to judge Bruce’s reaction.

Bruce nodded. “That was indeed my son. I’m sorry if he seemed fairly off-putting to you. He can be a bit intense at times.”

“I resent that,” Dick muttered under his breath next to Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes and continued to watch.

Tim nodded. “So, what did you want to discuss about him?”

“I just wanted to make sure that nothing unfortunate came from your interaction with him.”

Tim straightened. “If you’re worried that my opinion of him is going to affect our business deals, I can assure you that I’m not so unprofessional as to allow that to happen.”

“But you really don’t recall the galas where you’ve interacted?”

Tim frowned and shook his head. “We’ve only exchanged pleasantries a handful of times. I’m sure of that.”

Bruce nodded. “Well, I’m sorry to disturb your evening but I’ll leave you to your night.”

“Right,” Tim said. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” Bruce said and strode away.

As Bruce approached the elevator at the end of the hall, Jason and Dick saw where Tim was staring after him, still looking completely perplexed and confused.

Bruce stepped into the elevator and hit a random button. Once the doors slid shut, he looked around himself.

“Pull me out,” he instructed. “There’s nothing else I can do here.”

“I guess that’s it then,” Dick sighed, tapping away at the computer in front of him. The screen faded to black as Bruce shifted on the table behind them.

Jason glanced over his shoulder and wasn’t surprised to find he was sitting up much quicker than Dick had.

“What do we do now?” Jason asked.

Bruce pulled the headband from his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure why but whatever is keeping Tim under knows enough about both me and Dick that it can make us blend into Tim’s everyday life and memories.”

“Sooooo who can we send in to try and make Tim understand that he’s been in a coma for the past year and isn’t actually living his real life?” Dick asked.

Jason huffed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to see some solution for this problem. He wasn’t sure if multiple attempts by Bruce or Dick would change anything, but it would be worth a shot considering how long they’d waited as it was.

He glanced up and found Dick and Bruce looking at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You might be able to help Tim realize he’s living in his own head,” Dick said.

“What?” he repeated.

Bruce hummed and stood from the bed, ripping the patches from his chest that connected him to the heart monitor.

“We don’t know what kind of technology is working against us. If it has access to public records, it would know that because of Tim’s background we’re the two who Tim would most likely have come into contact with. There might be a workaround since you didn’t grow up with wealthy parents,” Bruce explained.

“And for all intents and purposes, you’re legally dead,” Dick pointed out.

Jason hesitated. “Do you really think this is going to work?”

“It’s the best we can do right now,” Dick agreed. “If this doesn’t work then we can regroup and figure something else out. Maybe we could all go in and confront Tim together instead of trying to do something one-on-one while Alfred watches over us.”

Jason sighed. “Okay,” he agreed. “I guess it can’t hurt anything.”

He picked up the patches and stuck them under his shirt, finally bringing an end to the shrill beep from the machine once it detected a heartbeat again. He shoved the headband on his head and stretched out on the hospital bed, shivering slightly.

He took deep breaths, trying not to think about what was about to happen. Bruce and Dick had both already been inside Tim’s head so there was no reason to worry about potentially adverse effects from it.

Jason heard the soft click of keys at the computer and almost thought the feeling of dozing was in his mind if his limbs weren’t becoming weighed down on the table. He closed his eyes, the tug more insistent now that he was being pulled under.

He furrowed his brow, feeling like he was floating for a moment but completely aware of his mind. The sensation was close to being underwater where the sounds around him were muffled.

A horn honked in the distance as he tried to swim upward to consciousness and understanding. Soft conversations floated around him and warmth spread over his skin as a bird chirped over his head.

Jason blinked and found himself standing in the middle of the sidewalk of Gotham city. The sun was low in the sky signaling the early morning hour. No one gave him a second thought even as he stayed put between the lines of traffic moving in opposite directions.

He took a deep breath and turned, glancing at the nearest street sign to orient himself. He was a couple street signs over from Drake Industries. He could only hope that he would be able to catch Tim before he made it to work.

Jason jogged down the street and hurried through a crosswalk before the light changed. He darted around several people walking in the opposite direction and narrowly avoided clipping someone carrying a drink carrier filled with coffee cups. He spotted the front of Drake Industries and slowed to a walk as he approached, searching for Tim amidst the crowd.

He looked across the street but didn’t see Tim anywhere. He wished he had a watch that was set to the current time in Tim’s head.

“Sorry, excuse me. So sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jason looked up and found Tim pushing between people strolling on the sidewalk. He looked flustered and panicked and his tie was crooked.

Jason jogged to intercept his path.

“Excuse me,” Jason started.

Tim glanced up at him, obviously ready to tell him he didn’t have the time when he froze, eyes going wide.

“You’re dead.”

Jason frowned. “What?” he asked.

Tim flailed backward, mouth opening and closing. He raised a hand and pointed at Jason. “You’re Jason Todd. You can’t be here. You’re dead.”

Jason glanced around and found a few people taking notice of Tim’s panicked state. He raised his hands to try and calm him down.

“Look Tim, just calm down for me for a minute. I just want to talk to you.”

“How-how do you know my name?” he asked, the color draining from his face.

“How do you know mine?” Jason countered.

Tim froze, his panic ebbing in the face of confusion.

“We’ve never met in person, have we?” Jason pressed.

Tim opened and closed his mouth. “I…I don’t know how I know your name,” he admitted. “Why do I know who you are?”

“Is there somewhere we can go to talk? A coffeeshop maybe? Somewhere we can have some privacy to talk that isn’t the middle of the sidewalk.”

Tim nodded, head going up and down frantically. “Yes. Yeah. There’s a shop just around the corner. Follow me.” He turned on his heel and started power-walking back the way he came.

Jason jogged to catch up and stuffed his hands into his pockets, keeping up with Tim easily. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and Jason fought to remain relaxed and calm in the face of Tim’s uncertainty and panic and what was probably going to be fear once they worked through the reality of Tim’s situation.

Tim pushed through the wooden door of a small coffeeshop nestled between buildings.

“Do you want anything?” Tim asked, glancing at the counter.

“You don’t need to buy me anything,” Jason said quickly. “But I’d recommend getting green tea to calm down considering.”

Tim pursed his lips. “Feel free to find somewhere to sit.”

“Sure thing,” Jason said. He turned to the shop and spotted a table in the back corner away from the rest of the customers.

Jason walked to the corner and took the chair that kept his back to the wall, giving him a view of the shop and through the windows at the front of the building.

Tim dropped his bag next to the chair opposite Jason and sat down, hugging the cup tightly between his hands.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay,” he repeated, fighting to compose himself. “Can you explain to me why I know who you are even though I’ve never talked to you before?”

Jason sighed and leaned forward. “I know this might sound crazy and you might not believe me at first, but I hope that I can convince you what’s really going on. This, what you see around you,” Jason said, waving at the coffeeshop. “This isn’t real.”

Tim stared at him. “What?” he asked. “You can’t be serious, can you?”

Jason nodded. “I am. Whatever you do with Drake Industries, whatever life you’re living, it’s not really yours. You do work with Wayne Enterprises and you’re a fucking badass. You know how to kick butt like the best of us.”

“What do you mean ‘the best of us?’”

“You’re...” Jason huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re a vigilante. You fight crime at night and protect the people of Gotham and I do too. A year ago, you got hit with some technology that forced you into a coma. We’ve been trying to find some way to pull you out since and this is the first contact we’ve been able to make with you.”

Tim stared at him. “A vigilante? Me? I’m like, the weakest person ever. There’s no way I could legitimately fight someone.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “But you can. And you do a fucking amazing job at it.”

Tim continued to stare, and Jason had one fleeting moment of hope that Tim might believe him. They could get started on working out how to free Tim from his head and get him out.

Tim shook his head. “You’re crazy, I…that’s right you have to be crazy. None of this is actually real. It’s not that you’re dead, it’s that I don’t know you and you’re pulling my leg.” Tim nodded to himself as he continued to work through his rationalization. “I’m just exhausted and willing to be fed any lame story at this point. This is some elaborate prank. I’m sure my friends put you up to this.”

Jason’s stomach sank. “No, Tim wait.”

Tim shook his head. “I must really be stuck in a rut if I’m willing to even consider things like this,” he muttered as he grabbed his bag and made his way to the door.

“Fuck,” Jason muttered running his hands down his face. He gave himself a second to think before he shoved his chair back and stood, ready to follow Tim from the shop and make him understand.

The sounds around him became fuzzy as he took a step and he blinked, trying to clear his vision that darkened quickly. Nausea curled in his stomach and he coughed and wheezed when too-bright light shined over his head.

“What the fuck?” he asked, rolling onto his side to see Bruce and Dick watching him. “What the hell did you pull me out for?” he accused. “I could’ve tried something else.”

“We didn’t pull you out,” Bruce said slowly.

Jason stilled and pushed himself upright, carefully taking the headband off to cradle in his lap as the last wisps of nausea started to dissipate. “What?” he asked.

“We didn’t pull you out,” Dick repeated.

“Then how the hell am I back out here?” he asked.

Dick and Bruce shared a look before they shook their heads, helpless.

“It could be some form of interference from what’s been keeping Tim under. If it registered your presence that might’ve been its attempt to delete your code form it’s system but since you’re not part of it, it just temporarily deleted your presence and forced you back to the real world,” Bruce explained.

“But that can be a good thing, can’t it?” Jason asked. “If it was trying to delete my code, that means I can affect whatever world it’s created. It means I can influence Tim and have him realize what he’s been pulled into.”

“We’ll need to do more research to make sure there’s no way for this to kill you permanently,” Bruce warned.

Jason waved his hand and pulled the patches from his chest, tossing them onto the hospital bed. “Make sure it’s quick. We have a way to talk to Tim, we shouldn’t waste any more time than it’s already taken to get this far.” He walked around the hospital bed and shut off the heart monitor to stop it’s incessant beeping.

“We’ll get you back in as soon as we can,” Dick said, moving to the computer next to Bruce.

Jason nodded and set the headband on the hospital bed pillow. No matter what they found, he knew he was going to go under again. They had a chance to save Tim and they weren’t about to waste it no matter what the risk was going to be.

He looked at Bruce and Dick as they worked on the computer. He couldn’t do much when they hoarded the computer, but he wasn’t going to bug them. He was going to go upstairs and make himself a sandwich and share a pot of tea with Alfred while he worked through everything he’d just seen.

The technology was powerful beyond belief if it could change Tim’s attitude within the span of a few seconds. Tim had almost believed him. Jason was sure of it. He just needed to give him a little push to get him there.

He sighed and crossed the floor to the stairs that would take him back up to the Manor proper. He really needed that tea.

~~

Tim sat down in the chair of his office, still clutching the cup of tea he’d gotten from the coffeeshop. He was trying to make sense of the whole encounter and he knew there couldn’t be any stock in it. He didn’t know the person he’d met. There was no reason for him to know him and it was nothing more than a sick joke.

He’d just been frazzled from oversleeping and needing to get ready for work. The day before had been weird too.

“Must be a full moon coming,” he muttered as he took a sip of the lukewarm tea some stranger had recommended. Normally he didn’t get anything other than coffee, but he was surprised that the tea had helped calm him down after his morning rush.

The only thing he needed to worry about was the work on his desk and making sure Drake Industries was running as it should. He could get through a day at work, he’d meet his friends for dinner and when he got home, he could fall into bed and sleep and push all of this from his mind.

Tim pulled his laptop from his back and logged in quickly, ready to try and distract himself with work. This was normal. This was where he was supposed to be, not having weird conversations with strangers in the back of a coffeeshop.

~~

Tim found himself running down the street for the second time that day after work. His mission to distract himself had succeeded in making him lose track of time so he was running late for the dinner he’d planned with his friends.

Half the day had been spent staring off into space or reading the same sets of numbers three times before he realized his mind was still in the back of that coffeeshop with the strange man who’d approached him on the street.

Tim pushed through the door of the relaxed restaurant they’d picked and gave the hostess a smile as he passed, making a beeline for the booth his friends had already been seated at.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, taking the open seat on the aisle they’d left for him.

“What’s up with you today?” Frank asked. “You’re never late for dinner.”

“Just been distracted,” Tim said, smile tight.

“What’s going on?” Lisa added, bracing her forearms on the table. She was always eager for some gossip.

“The strangest thing happened to me this morning,” he admitted, fiddling with the thick menu in front of him.

That got the attention of the whole group and they all leaned in.

“This weird guy came up to me on the street this morning and for some reason I blurted out that he couldn’t be here because he’s dead. And then he took me to a coffeeshop and tried to explain to me that I’ve been in a coma for the past year and the world around me is a dream or something. Basically, that my life isn’t not real. I mean, I don’t know who set up this elaborate prank, but it was super weird.”

“He’s an idiot, whoever he is,” Lisa sniffed, sitting back and crossing her arms.

“Yeah a complete nutjob,” Frank agreed, frowning.

“He should be locked up for harassing someone on the street like that,” Trent scoffed. “I can’t believe you would let yourself be taken to a coffeeshop by that guy. He could’ve easily pulled you into an alley and mugged you or murdered you.”

Tim opened and closed his mouth, trying to find something to say. He’d expected some form of reassurance form them that it was just some weird joke or maybe even a confused person or conspiracy theorist. But he hadn’t expected them to get so hostile about a stranger he’d run into on the sidewalk.

It didn’t really make sense.

“Right, yeah,” Tim said, voice weak. “I’ll be more careful next time and won’t get drawn in by strangers.”

“Good,” Lisa said, her posture relaxing. “Now, what are you all thinking of getting?” she asked, flipping open the cover of her menu to look over the options she already knew by heart.

Tim swallowed and opened his own menu, for once wanting nothing more than to ditch his friends and their dinner in favor of crawling into bed to try and forget everything around him.

Maybe if the world around him was a dream, he could wake up into something better and less confusing the next morning.

~~

“Okay what did you find out?” Jason asked, jogging down the steps to the Cave. “It had been a day since his first encounter with Tim and he was itching to get back into his head to talk to him again.

“We don’t think there’s any chance you could be killed by whatever technology is keeping Tim under,” Bruce said carefully.

“So, there’s no reason for me not to go back in,” Jason said simply. “Let’s do this then.”

He walked over to the table and jammed the headband on his head. He carefully stuck the patches from the heart monitor on his chest and turned it on, another steady beeping filling the Cave alongside Tim’s heart.

“We’re not sure you should go back in,” Bruce said.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Don’t even start, old man.” He ignored how Bruce wrinkled his nose. “This is the best chance we have to finally free Tim from this villain-induced prison and we should take it. I might be able to make some progress and if there’s less of a chance of this tech being able to kill me, all the better. We shouldn’t waste the one chance we’ve worked so hard to get.”

Bruce’s lips thinned but he nodded and moved over to the computer.

Jason took a deep breath and let his eyes slide shut.

The transition was easier this time and the world inside Tim’s head came into focus quicker than it had the first time. He opted to think that was because he’d done it once already and not for anything sinister.

Instead of appearing on the sidewalk where he had the first time, Jason found himself standing in the coffeeshop where Tim had walked away from him. No one around him seemed bothered by his appearance and Jason made his way for the front door, pushing out onto the sidewalk.

He strode towards the corner and blinked when Tim hurried down the sidewalk in front of him.

“Tim!” he called.

Tim froze, head whipping around to face him with wide eyes.

“Jason,” he breathed.

Jason frowned, taking in the bags under Tim’s eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, stepping forward. "You look like you haven’t slept.”

Tim nodded, finally pulling himself away from where he was frozen in the middle of the flow of people. He hurried over to Jason.

“You’re real,” he said, taking in every inch of Jason. “You really are real.”

“Of course I’m real. Why wouldn’t you think I’m real?” Jason scoffed.

Tim’s hysterical laugh pushed out of his chest unbidden. He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder. “Do you mind if we go somewhere and talk?” he asked.

Jason shrugged and shook his head. “We could go back to the coffeeshop from yesterday,” he said, hiking a thumb over his shoulder.

Tim shook his head, features contorting in panic at the thought of speaking in public. “No, I’d rather…I’d rather go somewhere more private. Do you mind if you come back to my apartment?”

“Not at all…” Jason said.

Tim nodded, looking relieved. “Okay,” he sighed. “Okay.” He grabbed Jason’s hand and turned back the way he came.

Jason glanced at the people they passed but let himself get tugged along, not willing to put up any fight, especially when Tim was so tense.

They covered the street blocks at a quick clip. And Jason was surprised when no one spared them a second glance at their pace.

The apartment security guard glanced up at their entrance and seemed confused to see Tim back when he’d just left but he didn’t say anything at Jason’s appearance. Tim pulled him into the elevator and hit the top button. He repeatedly pressed the button to close the doors, but they still shut much slower than Tim would’ve liked.

He tapped his foot impatiently as they rose from one door to the next, the light cycling through the numbers at a snail’s pace.

“Tim, you can relax it’s okay,” Jason tried, keeping his voice gentle.

Tim shook his head. He glanced at Jason, eyes still wide and bit at his lip, chewing on the chapped skin.

“Finally,” he muttered when the elevator beeped at his floor and the doors slipped open. He tugged Jason out behind him and hurried down the hall, eyes locked on the door of his apartment.

He tugged his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door with one hand, not willing to let Jason go now that he’d shown his face again. He tugged Jason in behind him and slammed the door shut, sliding the deadbolt into place.

“There,” he sighed, bracing his hands against the door as his head dropped between his shoulders.

“Is everything okay?” Jason asked.

Tim’s hands slid down the wood with a soft scratch and swung at his sides. “No,” he admitted, finally turning to face Jason. “I thought I was going insane.” He gripped his hair and tugged. “You just showed up and told me that the world around me was fake and then you disappeared, and I haven’t seen you for a couple days.”

“A couple of days?” Jason asked. “It’s only been one day.”

Tim frowned and stared at him. “What?”

“Only a day has passed in the…outside,” he said.

They stared at each other for a moment.

“I guess time flows differently here?” Tim offered.

Jason ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Okay, keep going. What else has happened?”

“My friends have gotten so hostile since I told them about our little chat the first time. They keep asking about you and I swear the last time I went to work, when I looked away from my computer, I could see blue code covering my screen but when I looked back, the spreadsheet I was working on was right there where I’d left it. Jason, I…I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m going to crazy and kept looking for you and when I couldn’t find you anywhere…I almost checked into a hospital,” he admitted, voice rising in his panic.

“Tim, Tim,” Jason said, gripping his wrists as he grew more hysterical. “Look at me.”

Tim reluctantly met his eyes and Jason could really see the kind of toll this was taking on him.

“Listen to me,” Jason said slowly. “You’re not going crazy. You’re not losing your mind. I’m real and I’m going to help you get through this. You need to get in control of the world around you. As real as everything might seem, you’re in charge here. All of this is built inside of your mind. Once you take control, you can end this and free yourself.”

Tim took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay. I can do that. How do we do that?”

“I think the best place to start is to keep unraveling what’s around you. You said you saw blue code on your computer screen?”

Tim nodded.

“Look for that in other places. Break down the reality in front of you until there’s nothing left but your own thoughts.”

“Yeah, but how?” Tim asked. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Sure you can,” Jason insisted. “You’re smart. You have the best mind of all of us bats. If anyone can get out of this mess, it’s going to be you.”

“Okay, so let’s say you’re right,” Tim said carefully. “Let’s say I’m as smart as you say and can figure all of this out. I’ve got a business degree. I don’t know anything about undercover operations or whatever else.”

“Yes, you can do all of that. And you know how to fight. You can kick anyone’s ass who gets on your bad side.”

Tim stared at him like he was insane. He shook his head.

“There’s no-”

Jason huffed and threw a punch at Tim’s face. Tim took a step back to plant his rear foot and blocked the blow with his forearm. Jason smirked and stepped back, letting himself relax.

“See?” Jason asked. “I don’t think you’d be able to do that without any martial arts training.”

“I blocked a punch,” Tim said, staring down at his palms. “This is impossible.”

“No, it’s not,” Jason said, grinning down at him. “I think it’s time we got planning.”

“I guess I should make some coffee?” Tim suggested.

Jason chuckled. “That would probably be for the best.”

Tim waved Jason into the kitchen and changed the settings of his coffeemaker. He measured out two spoons and poured them into the top.

“Okay,” Tim said, sitting across the island from Jason as he left it to brew. “What are we going to do?”

“Like I said, work on finding those cracks in the world around you. You said your friends have gotten hostile since you first told them about me. I think they might be someone to watch out for. Stay guarded around them, especially if they start asking more probing questions.”

Tim nodded. “Right, yeah I can do that. This is going to take a while isn’t it?” he asked.

Jason shrugged and hesitated. “Probably yeah. Whatever’s been keeping you in a coma is pretty powerful stuff, so it’s not going to be easy.”

“How-” Tim stopped and hesitated. “How long have I been trapped in here?”

Jason pursed his lips. “It’s been…” He let out a heavy breath. “It’s been a year since you were hit.”

Tim paled and gripped the edge of the counter, swallowing harshly. “Really?” he squeaked.

Jason sighed and nodded. “Yeah. It took us a long time to figure out what was keeping you under. And then even longer before we managed to put together the tech to get us in here.”

Tim’s expression hollowed and Jason wanted to pull him close and tell him everything was okay. No one deserved to lose so much of their life.

“Ti-”

Jason pursed his lips together as the world blacked out around him and the sounds muffled before returning with an unfortunate pop. He groaned and pressed a hand against his head, blinking his eyes open to find the ceiling of the Cave arching high above him.

“What the hell?” he asked, turning to look at Dick and Bruce who both somehow looked perplexed.

“We didn’t pull you out,” Dick said, shaking his head.

“It’s the same thing that happened last time,” Bruce said with a frown. “Something recognizes you as a foreign presence and is forcing you from Tim’s head to keep from interfering.”

“Well you’ve got to get me back in there,” Jason insisted. “We were finally making a breakthrough.”

Bruce nodded and tapped against the keys of the computer. “Just relax and we’ll get you back in. I’m sure Tim’s confused enough as it is.”

Jason took a deep breath and let it out through his mouth. He closed his eyes and waited for the sensation of being pulled under. Several seconds passed and it didn’t come. He frowned and opened his eyes, turning to look at Bruce.

“Anytime now, old man,” he said.

“It’s not working,” he said, frowning. “Something’s blocking the signal from connecting. I’ll keep working on it. Just stay there.”

Jason sighed and nodded, raising his head and slamming it back down into the pillow under his head. He was tired of waiting. They’d waited a year before they got to talk to him and now he was going to have to wait again. Tim was going to have to wait for him to come back.

~~

Jason was sipping from the glass of water Alfred had brought for him while he was waiting when he felt the first tug. He stretched towards the small table and set the glass down, making himself comfortable when he closed his eyes and found the sounds changing around him.

He opened his eyes and found himself back in Tim’s apartment as something shattered.

Tim was standing next to his coffeepot, staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re back,” he whispered. “I thought you weren’t coming back, Jason, I…I thought-”

Jason shook his head. “We had some trouble getting me back into your head. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long. How long was I gone anyway?”

“It’s been three days,” he whimpered, sounding and looking small.

Jason let out a breath and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t do it on purpose.” He looked at Tim and he nodded.

Tim cleared his throat and bent to start cleaning up the shards of the mug he’d dropped.

“So, what’s happened while I’ve been gone?” he asked.

Tim tossed the ceramic shards into the trash and wet a washcloth to clean up the coffee covering the floor and cabinets.

“My friends asked about you again, but I did my best to make everything seem as normal. They’ve calmed down a bit and seem less suspicious than they did right after I told them about our first meeting.”

“Have more cracks started to appear?” Jason asked.

Tim nodded. “A few. They always disappear when I’m looking at something directly, but it’s like nothing really exists in my periphery anymore. I think my…I think the people who I thought were my friends are watching me. I don’t know if I need to fight them or what, but I’m worried something will have to happen with them.”

Jason grinned. “Well, I do like a good fight. And it is the fastest way to get results. Are you thinking we do this Matrix style?”

Tim frowned. “What style?” he asked.

Jason stared. “You can’t tell me you’ve never seen the Matrix?”

Tim shook his head.

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear to god whatever tech is keeping you stuck in your head better be the reason you don’t know this movie. If it’s not, we’re going to be watching this as soon as we get you out of here.”

Tim chuckled and bit his lip. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“What am I like? Outside in the real world? I know you said I’m a good fighter and good with whatever work it is you do, but…what do I do in real life?”

“Well you know the whole vigilante bit,” Jason said, walking around the kitchen island to brace his hands against it. “Other than that, you’re in college. Doing something with computer science, I think. Or maybe business. Or both, I’m not really sure at this point. So, you’ve got a bunch of homework and classes you sometimes go to and other times sleep through. At least that’s what I’ve heard anyway… And then you’ve got your work at W.E.-”

“Wait,” Tim interrupted, holding up a hand as he smiled. “W.E. as in Wayne Enterprises? I work at Wayne Enterprises?”

Jason shrugged and nodded. “You pretty much run it since Bruce doesn’t give a shit. He’s more concerned with flying around at night in spandex.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to have a conversation with Bruce once I get back,” he said, tone low and threatening.

Jason grinned. “He’s watching right now. I’m surprised he hasn’t come in here to confront you already.”

Tim chuckled and ducked his head. He was quiet for a moment and Jason knew he was working himself up to ask his next question.

“What’s…what’s our relationship like?” Tim whispered. “Are we like…friends or what?”

Jason shifted on his stool, trying to figure out how to explain their complicated history. “We…aren’t really friends, I guess? We didn’t have such a good history when we first met each other. Kind of hated each other a bit not gonna lie, but we worked through that in time and we’re on pretty good terms now.”

Tim frowned and didn’t look very happy at what Jason said. “Do you think…is it possible that once I get out of here, could we be friends? I don’t think I want to go back to whatever things were like between us.”

Jason smiled. “Sure, Tim. We can try to be friends once you’re out of your head.”

“Thanks, Jason,” Tim whispered. “For everything, I guess.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jason warned. “We have to get you out of here first.”

Tim huffed a laugh and smiled. He looked up at Jason through his eyelashes. He opened his mouth to say something else when Jason disappeared in front of his eyes, winking out of existence as soon as he’d come.

Tim frowned and sighed. He knew it wasn’t Jason’s fault that he was pulled out and it was whatever was messing with him and keeping him trapped in his own head, but it still made his chest ache. He’d have to fight harder and get out of his head. He just hoped that whenever Jason showed up, he’d be able to help him fight whatever was keeping him trapped.

~~

Tim slammed his hand down on the alarm clock next to his head. He groaned and sat up and rubbed his eyes. The sun was just starting to peek through the blinds in front of his window, but he wasn’t in a hurry to jump in the shower and head to the office. He’d never go to the office again. At least, not the one inside his own head.

He threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a hoodie on his way to the bathroom. He made a face at his reflection and ran a hand through his hair, trying to pat it down and make it look presentable.

He stripped out of his pajamas and left them in a pile on the floor before pulling on his change of clothes. He sighed and ran through the mental list of supplies he’d put together the night before.

Somehow, someway, he’d managed to find a small shop that sold weapons and fighting knives. He’d also found reviews that listed the shop as selling smoke grenades and flash bombs. Tim wasn’t sure if that was legal or not, but he didn’t care when his main goal was to gather enough supplies to fight the people keeping him locked in his head.

Tim stuffed his wallet and phone into the pocket of his hoodie and slipped his arms through an empty backpack. He grabbed his keys and gave one last look around his apartment, eyes landing on the seat where he’d last seen Jason during his visit the night before.

He expected to come back once he got his supplies, but this was his chance to break free of whatever was holding him inside his head. The idea of freedom and having control over his life once again was thrilling and already forcing adrenaline into his veins as he prepared for the fight to come.

Tim locked the door of his apartment behind him with a strange sense of finality. He glanced down the hallway and found it empty, not that he really expected much else. His footfalls were heavy on the wooden steps leading to the first floor.

He nodded at the security guard who gave him a curious look at seeing him out of his normal business clothes. Tim pushed through the front door and stepped into the warm, morning sunlight.

He stepped to the edge of the sidewalk and raised his hand, unsurprised when a cab stopped for him and let him inside. He rattled off the address of the shop and settled in for the ride once they pulled away from the curb.

Now that Tim thought about it, he’d never had an issue catching a cab even in the worst of Gotham’s traffic. Someone always stopped to pick him up. Normally, he was dressed in something nicer because of his day at the office or whatever show he’d attended for the night, but now that he was in an unimpressive pair of jeans and a nondescript hoodie, it was less likely he would’ve gotten a ride so easily.

The larger and more ostentatious buildings fell away into something uniform. The businesses were smaller, the street corners marked by international food sellers and corner markets for minor grocery shopping.

The cab slowed and pulled over to the curb.

“That’ll be $21.25,” the cabby said, holding his hand over his shoulder.

Tim passed him a twenty and a five and pushed out of the car, shutting the door behind him. The cab hesitated a moment before it pulled away and Tim strode to the bar-covered door of the small shop. He pulled it open, a loud electronic beeping sounding over his head.

The shopkeeper looked up and narrowed his eyes at Tim. He straightened and Tim could see the muscles stretched the sleeves of his shirt.

“Can I help you?” he asked, voice low and gruff and filled with suspicion.

“I’d like to purchase a few things,” Tim said, turning to face him, but not closing the distance.

The man lifted his chin. “Have at it then.”

Tim nodded and started down the first aisle. He spotted an array of collapsible, aluminum bo staffs. He lifted one form the rack and extended it with a flick of his wrist. The metal was cool in his hand, but the weight was comforting. He tilted it back and forth, testing the balance.

He nodded to himself and pressed the ends together to collapse it and carry through the store with him.

The knives were next, and Tim picked up four of them, going for the simplest design that had the best weight and balance. He stacked them on top of the staff resting in his palm.

Tim passed the aisle with escrima sticks and smaller weapons until he found the small flash bombs and smoke grenades. He piled as many in the crook of his arm as he could hold. He wasn’t sure how handy they’d be in his fight since he was flying blind, but at this point it was a life or death situation and whatever money he did have wouldn’t do him any good if he lost.

He doubted he’d be allowed to gallivant around in his own head now that he was making an effort to escape and break the hold he was under.

Tim eased the armful of goods he had onto the counter, not wanting any of them to roll off or to accidentally set of the bombs he needed to purchase.

“Quite the array of things you’ve got there,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He lifted the bo staff and expertly extended it. “Nice choice with this one. Perfect for your form actually. And the knives are paired well with it,” he added, balancing one of them on his finger. “What exactly do you need the rest for?” he asked, eyeing Tim over the smoke and flash bombs.

Tim shrugged. “That’s not really important, is it?” he asked, pulling out a wad of cash. “How much?”

He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Tim. “$250.”

Tim raised an eyebrow and knew that the price of everything he’d picked up was closer to $180. He watched the shopkeepers’ eyes as he first peeled off ten twenty dollar bills. He continued, adding three more to the stack, but he didn’t stop there, adding more to the pile until there was $500 sitting on the counter.

He slid the bills across the counter and the shopkeeper gaped at him. He looked between the bills and Tim. “Who are you?”

Tim pocketed the rest of the money he’d brought with him. “That’s none of your concern.”

He shook his head and swiped the money from the counter, stuffing the bills into the register. “I swear you better not be doing anything weird with that. I don’t need the cops hunting me down because you’re going on some freaky murder spree.”

“Don’t worry,” he assured, slipping his arms out of the straps of his backpack to load his purchases into it. “It’s nothing like that. You’re going to be perfectly safe.”

The shopkeeper didn’t look convinced, but Tim didn’t much care as he turned on his heel and walked out of the store.

The electronic beeping sounded over his head and Tim blinked as the ground shifted under his feet and the stores around him disappeared and were replaced by a large, empty parking lot.

Tim scowled at finding his “friends” standing across form him, all wearing matching grins dripping with malice.

“I’d like to say this is a pleasant surprise,” Tim said, swinging the backpack around to pull the bo staff from it. “But this isn’t pleasant or a surprise.” He extended the bo with a flick of his wrist and settled back into a fighting stand, spreading his feet so they kept the weight distributed under his shoulders.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “You were always such a bore, but I truly thought you’d never be smart enough to put the pieces together.”

“Should’ve known you were the ring leader, Lisa,” Tim said. “You always were the most demanding of the bunch.

She sneered at him. “You can try and insult me as much as you like but I’m so glad I don’t have to watch over your scrawny ass anymore.”

“I was getting tired of all the monotonous lunches and dinner parties,” Trent agreed, rolling his head.

“And now we can force you to stay here forever and actually enjoy ourselves instead of playing along with this ridiculous charade,” Frank added.

“Too bad for you, I’m not planning on staying trapped in here any longer. I’m going back to my life that you stole me away from. And I’m going to track down the maniac who decided it would be fun to leave me stuck in here. I’m going to make him regret ever coming into contact with me.”

“Doubtful,” Lisa said, tilting her head to the side at an unnatural angle. “Trent, Frank, go have some fun.”

They grinned and sprinted towards him. Trent was faster than Frank and got to him first. Tim parried his first punch with the staff and used the added range of it to swing the bo around and knock the opposite end against the side of Trent’s head.

He staggered back, clutching the side of his head as Frank closed the distance between him and Tim. Tim thrust the end of his staff to hit him in the chest, but Frank caught the end of his bo between his hands and twisted, yanking Tim towards him.

Tim grit his teeth and dropped his weight, leaning backwards as Frank tried to make a grab for him. Keeping the staff gripped tightly in one of his hands, Tim smacked Frank’s hands to the side and swung forward, knocking his forehead into Frank’s nose.

He shouted in pain and staggered backwards, releasing Tim’s staff to clutch at his bleeding nose. An arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him back in a chokehold against Trent’s chest. Tim grit his teeth and reflexively gasped, but no oxygen entered his lungs.

He swung his staff over his head and knocked Trent on the head. The grip relaxed around his throat as Trent groaned in pain and Tim took the chance to stomp on his foot and twist in the grip. He broke the hold and stepped forward, swinging his elbow behind him to connect with Trent’s temple.

Tim ducked under the arm Frank extended in his direction and dropped his bo, wrapping his hands around Frank’s forearm and bicep. He hunched forward and threw Frank over his back and onto the ground, forcing the air from his lungs.

Tim swiped the bo from the ground and put space between himself and Frank and Trent while he dug around his backpack for two daggers. He collapsed his bo and stuck it in the pocket of his hoodie.

Frank struggled to sit up as Trent charged at Tim again. Tim ducked under his hold and thrust the dagger into his chest, slicing between his ribs and into his heart.

Trent choked, staring at Tim with wide eyes as blood slipped out of the wound and coated Tim’s hands crimson. He staggered backward and looked down at his chest where the hilt of the dagger protruded from his chest.

He coughed and blood dribbled from his lips, covering his chin and dripping onto his shirt. Tim turned back to Frank and heard a thump behind him as Trent fell to the ground. Frank was struggling to sit up and Tim swung out his leg, connecting with the side of his head to send him rolling across the floor.

He groaned as he came to a stop on his stomach and Tim stalked over to him, aware of Lisa’s eyes on him. He used the toe of his sneaker to roll Frank onto his back. He switched the hold on his dagger and raised it over his head before he knelt and plunged the blade into Frank’s chest.

Frank stiffened, a wounded sound wrenching itself from his throat. He fought to grip Tim’s arm and force the dagger from his chest, but his strength was weak and he didn’t have much leverage.

His movements slowed as he coughed, blood sliding out of the side of his mouth. Tim stood and turned away from his limp body, finding Lisa sneering at the dead bodies of her comrades.

“Useless,” she muttered. “You know what they say, never trust anyone else with the important tasks.”

Tim rolled his eyes. He pulled the last two daggers from his backpack and gripped them tightly in his hands. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m going to get rid of you now.”

She cackled and held out her hand, a jagged-blade dagger appearing in her hand. “I think you misunderstand. It’s your turn to die.”

Tim grinned and raised the daggers in his hands like he would if he was going to fight hand-to-hand. “You’re wrong.”

“Oh?” she asked, looking displeased.

“I can’t die in my own head.”

Her grin turned feral. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Tim staggered back when Lisa appeared in front of him, slashing the dagger across his chest. It ripped through the fabric of his hoodie with a sick sound and drew a thin line of fire on his chest.

He hurried backwards, putting space between them as warmth seeped from his chest. He could tell it was shallow thanks to his hoodie, but it wouldn’t hold up against attacks that fierce for long.

Tim lowered his stance and growled. Lisa didn’t give him a chance to close the distance before she was in his space again, but he was prepared for her this time. He parried her blows, metal slicing against metal loud enough to raise goosebumps on his arms.

He was thankful for both of his daggers against her singular weapon and from the glimmer in Lisa’s eyes, he doubted she’d materialize another weapon considering how much she was enjoying the challenge of fighting him.

Tim caught her blade on the hilt of his dagger and swiped out with his other dagger, tearing the collar of her shirt and slicing the skin underneath.

She growled as blood seeped into her shirt and she drew her blade back, slicing down where Tim had been a second ago, but he spun to the side, putting a few feet of distance between them.

“Not bad,” she purred, stalking towards him. “Not bad at all for someone who forgot how to fight.”

“I’ve never forgotten,” Tim spat. “It’s always been there, waiting for me to use.”

He darted forward to make a counterattack, wincing when her blade cut into his bicep and was held their as the muscle flexed. He gripped her shirt and placed the edge of his blade against her neck.

“Whatever wounds you give me now are going to be gone as soon as I wake up.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said, chuckle strangled and low in the back of her throat as she arched her head away from his blade.

“But I am sure that I don’t need to trust anything say,” he snarled, dragging his dagger across her throat.

Her eyes widened and Tim dropped her to her feet. She staggered backwards, hands going to her throat as blood poured from the wound and coated her shirt.

Tim closed his eyes, finally feeling at ease as everything fell away around him.

~~

Jason leaned against the hospital bed, chewing on a sandwich Alfred had brought him when Tim’s heartrate spiked. He swallowed and looked at Tim’s body and then the monitor keeping track of his vitals.

“What’s happening?” Jason asked, looking at Bruce who’d frozen at the computer.

He strode over and shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“No shit,” Jason said. “Tim’s never done this before.”

Bruce picked up a small penlight and lifted Tim’s eyelid, looking into his eyes. “No response,” he muttered.

“Send me in,” Jason said, shoving the headband onto his head.

“What?” Bruce asked.

“Send me in. Something could be happening in his head and he might need help.”

Bruce’s lips thinned and he nodded. He moved over to the computer as Dick and Alfred rushed down the stairs and sprinted over to them.

“What’s going on?” Dick asked.

Jason shook his head. “We don’t know, but I’m going in to see if I can help.” He stretched out on the table, keeping his eyes on the ceiling as he tried to ignore Tim’s frantic heartbeat and how it made his chest ache.

“I’m transferring you in now,” Bruce said.

Jason let out a heavy breath and waited for the tug that dragged him under. It didn’t come and he furrowed his brow.

“It’s not working,” he said, turning his head to look at Bruce.

Bruce frowned. “Something’s wrong. It’s like what happened after you were forced out of Tim’s head. It’s just not letting you in.”

Jason growled and sat up, tearing the headband off. He opened his mouth to say something else when the rhythmic beating of Tim’s heart ended and a long line of noise emanated from the machine.

Everyone froze for a moment, eyes snapping to Tim before they jumped into action. Alfred rushed for the AED and Jason jumped from his bed, hurrying to Tim’s side as Dick checked his breathing.

“He’s not breathing,” Dick murmured.

“No shit,” Jason said. He lined his hands up in the center of Tim’s chest and immediately started compressions. “I’m not going to let him die. Not after everything he’s been through.”

He paused his compressions as Dick gave him two rescue breaths before counting under his breath again. Alfred appeared at his side with the AED and cut a line down Tim’s shirt around Jason’s hands. He pulled it away and peeled the paper backing from the pads and stuck them to Tim’s chest.

Jason listened to the mechanical voice read out the instructions and reluctantly pulled back as it readied the shock. A blip sounded on the heart monitor, but monotonous tone continued without interruption. Jason grit his teeth and returned to his chest compressions as the machine readied the next charge.

“Come on,” Jason growled.

He pulled his hands back once the machine prompted him and two blips sounded on the heart monitor this time, but Tim’s heart stayed dead.

He saw Dick’s hands shaking as he framed Tim’s face for the rescue breaths.

“Come on, Tim. Come back to us,” he pleaded under his voice.

He pulled back for the third charge, holding his breath as Tim’s heart held steady for a handful of beats before stilling again.

“Again,” he growled. “Again.”

Each time the AED shocked Tim, his heart held on a little longer, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Jason,” Dick murmured when he started compressions again.

“No,” he snarled, not taking his eyes off Tim’s drawn face. “I’m not giving up on him. We’re going to save him.”

He pulled back his hands at the machine’s prompting and waited, balancing on his toes as the shock was given. He prepared to start compressions again when he realized Tim’s heart hadn’t stopped like it had the other times.

Withered hands shoved him away from the table. Jason stumbled back and watched as Alfred began to check over Tim’s body.

“Is he…” Jason started.

“I’m not sure yet, Master Jason,” Alfred said, voice tense. “I need to check him over before I can determine anything, and he still needs to wake.”

Jason nodded and Bruce moved to the other side of the table, offering assistance where he could.

“Come on,” Dick said, pulling Jason towards the stairs. “You’re not doing any good here and you might as well get some rest while you wait and stay out of the way.”

~~

Jason stared down at the cold cup of tea framed between his palms. His leg bounced under the table as he waited for any update on Tim’s condition. Dick had tried to keep him occupied but Jason’s mind was far below the Manor in the Cave.

“Master Jason?”

Jason shoved his chair back and jumped to his feet, knocking over the cup in his hand and sending tea over the table.

“How is he?” he blurted.

Alfred smiled despite the mess he’d just created and stepped to the side, holding the door open for him. “He’s awake and stable. Be gentle with him.”

Jason nodded and sprinted from the room. He heard Dick’s voice behind him but couldn’t make out what was being said.

He jumped the last few steps to the Cave floor and sprinted for the hospital bed. Bruce was standing at Tim’s side and he’d been propped up with several pillows. Tim smiled at him as he approached.

“You’re okay,” Jason said, eyes roving over his gaunt features. “I thought you were going to die but you’re okay.”

Tim nodded. “Bruce said my heart stopped,” he rasped, voice weak from disuse.

Jason swallowed. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim said.

Jason stepped closer, wanting to touch but he forced his hands to stay at his sides. “What happened in there?”

“He fought the physical manifestation of the technology keeping him trapped in his head,” Bruce answered. “The last attack on the ringleader of sorts happened when his heart stopped. We think it might’ve been a failsafe to kill Tim if they couldn’t keep him incapacitated in his head.”

Jason nodded. “But everything’s okay now, right?” he asked, eyes darting from Bruce to Tim and back.

“As okay as I can be after losing an insurmountable amount of muscle mass,” Tim quipped.

The corner of Jason’s lips quirked up at the joke. “And you remember everything?”

Tim nodded. “Everything you told me and everything that you didn’t have time to tell me.”

“Good,” Jason sighed. “Good.”

“We’ll start physical therapy in the morning,” Bruce said, resting a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “For now, we’ll keep you down here and feed you light food so as not to upset your stomach.”

“I’m ready,” he said, lips thinning with determination. “I’ve lost enough time and I’m ready to get back to my life.”

Bruce nodded at Jason before he left them behind. Jason looked over his shoulder to track Bruce’s movements and waited until he was out of the Cave before he said anything.

“I really am glad you’re okay,” Jason muttered.

“I know, Jason. Alfred told me you wouldn’t stop doing chest compressions even after my heart stopped so many times. Thank you…without you I’d still be stuck in my head and probably wouldn’t have any form of escape since Bruce and Dick couldn’t get through to me when they tried.”

Jason’s cheeks heated and he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I also remember the Matrix which I have indeed seen and you making that reference makes so much more sense now,” Tim added.

“It’s a good movie,” Jason supplied.

“It is,” Tim agreed. “You feel like watching it?”

Jason furrowed his brow and looked at Tim.

“I’m sure we can pull it up on the computer and watch it on the big screen. I just wish I could have some popcorn.”

Jason grinned and hurried around to the head of Tim’s hospital bed. “I know what we’re going to do now.”

~~

Jason chewed on his lip where he was standing several feet from Tim’s hospital bed. Tim’s face was screwed up in pain and as weak as his grip was, he was clutching the edges of his hospital bed as Alfred worked to move and flex the muscles of his legs that had atrophied from disuse.

Several days had already passed since he’d woken up and he was able to hold down thick broths and soup, but the physical therapy was slow going.

Tim’s forehead was covered with droplets of sweat and he breathed harshly through his nose as he forced his head back into the pillow behind him while he suffered through the exercises Alfred was giving him.

Jason hated seeing him in so much pain, but he knew Tim wasn’t going to let this kind of thing keep him down, not when he had a life to get back to. Staying in bed forever didn’t suit him and he’d gone crazy after a day confined to the bed even when they tried to entertain him with movies and the internet.

“We’re almost done with this leg, Master Timothy,” Alfred said, gentle voice soothing despite the pain he was in. “And then you’ll have a short break and can drink some water before we get started on the other side.”

Tim nodded, teeth clenched shut from concentration and pain.

“And there we are,” Alfred said, stretching out his leg on the mattress.

Tim breathed deeply and let his fingers relax. He sank back into the pillows and Jason could see the exhaustion pulling at him.

“Hey,” Jason said, stepping up next to the bed.

Tim’s head rolled to the side to meet his gaze and Jason could see the emptiness lingering with Tim’s frustration. Jason smiled and squeezed his trembling hand.

“You’re doing great. At this rate you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

Tim winced and nodded even if he didn’t believe it.

“Alright, Master Timothy, let’s start on the other side.”

Jason stepped away, giving Alfred better access as he lifted Tim’s opposite leg and began to work the muscles. Tim sucked in a breath and his fingers returned to clawing at the mattress, but he suffered through the pain the best he could.

~~

Tim groaned when Jason lowered him into the steaming water of the bath. He leaned heavily against the side of the tub and Jason perched on the edge, running his fingers through Tim’s sweaty strands.

“You doing okay?” Jason asked, giving Tim a moment to enjoy the warmth before he got around to helping wash him.

Tim shrugged, eyes sliding shut as he let out a heavy breath. “I’m tired,” he muttered. “And everything hurts, and I just want to get back to my life.” He sniffed and Jason watched him purse his lips together in what he knew was an effort to keep from getting emotional.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason said, sliding off the edge of the tub to kneel at Tim’s side. “It’s going to be okay.”

Tim met his gaze and sniffed, tears shining in the corners. “I’ve already lost so much though.”

“But you’re back now and you’re getting stronger every single day.”

“I feel weak,” Tim huffed, looking at the tub around him. “I feel like I’m never going to be strong again and there’s no way that I’m ever going to be out of that fucking hospital bed and I just want to be able to walk across the floor which I can’t even do because the muscles in my legs aren’t even strong enough for me to stand.”

Jason cupped Tim’s face and swiped his thumb through the tears sliding freely down Tim’s cheeks.

“You may not see how strong you’re getting, but I can see it. I can see how incredible you are and how amazing and badass what you’re doing is. So many people wouldn’t be able to come back from something like this, but you get up every day and you fight and you’re going to be able to walk again. You’re doing to be able to stand. You’re going to be able to fight.”

Tim gripped his wrists and Jason forced himself to hold Tim’s gaze instead of glancing down at his thin fingers that were barely able to reach around his wrists.

“It’s going to take a while and you’re going to need to be patient, but I know you’re not going to be like this forever. You can do this, Tim. And if you had to choose between having your full range of movement but still stuck in your head, and having to go through months of physical therapy while being in control of your life, wouldn’t you choose this every time?”

Tim let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Yes. I don’t want to be stuck in my head. I never want to be that helpless again. But why did this even have to happen? Why was I there? Why did I have to get hit? Why did I have so much taken from me?” he whispered.

Jason swallowed, trying to keep his heart from shattering into a million pieces in his chest.

“I don’t know, Tim. I don’t know why this happened to you and you’re the one who has to go through this.”

Tim’s face crumpled and he choked on a sob. Jason sighed and pulled him into an awkward hug over the side of the tub. He didn’t hold him too tightly, still afraid that he might break Tim’s brittle form, but he tried to project as much comfort into the hug as he could.

“It’s going to be okay, Tim. You’re going to beat this and you’re going to be amazing for it.”

Tim nodded against his shoulder, heaving breathless sobs into his shirt.

Jason held him as he cried, fighting down his own emotions. He’d have a chance to feel and process everything that was happening later. Tim didn’t need to see his weakness when he was already in such an emotional state.

Once Tim had his breathing under control, Jason pulled back and wiped the last lingering tears from Tim’s cheeks.

“Are you ready to get cleaned up now or do you need another minute?” he whispered.

Tim shook his head. “I’m okay now.” He glanced at the tub and shivered.

“Is it too cold?” Jason asked.

Tim shrugged. “I just don’t retain heat as well as I used to,” he muttered.

Jason dipped his fingers into the water, finding it just above the side of lukewarm. “I’ll drain some water and add some hotter water to warm it up,” Jason said, reaching for the plug.

He let it drain, keeping an eye on Tim as he crossed his arms and shivered as the waterline dipped lower down his stomach. Once it reached his waist and the band of his briefs he wore in the tub, Jason stoppered the drain and turned on the tap to fill with hot water.

As the tub filled, he grabbed a washcloth and lathered soap into it, rubbing gentle circles into Tim’s skin to clean off any accumulated dirt and sweat that had collected. Tim sighed and leaned forward as he cleaned his back, relaxing under the gentle touch.

Jason smiled, more than happy to help Tim in any way he could.

Once he was finished washing Tim, he grabbed the showerhead and pulled up the diverter, rinsing the soap from Tim’s form.

He prodded Tim until he tilted his head back and ran the water through his long strands, wetting them thoroughly.

“We’re going to need to cut your hair soon,” Jason murmured.

“Yeah,” Tim agreed. “It’s getting too long. Keeps getting in the way.”

“I could shave it,” Jason said with a smile. “Give you a nice buzzed look so you don’t have to worry about it growing out too quickly.”

Tim’s lips twisted into a grimace. “If you do that, I’ll look like a cancer patient.”

“We’ll just give you a lot of beanies to wear so you don’t have to worry about people staring at your head.”

“I think I’ve got plenty in my closet. Wait-” he said, jolting up.

Jason’s hands immediately went to his shoulders to steady him and his weak muscles. “Woah, calm down. What is it?”

“What happened to all of my stuff?” Tim asked, looking up at him. “I had an entire apartment with clothes and furniture and, shit, food in there.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Jason said, pushing him to relax. “We cleaned out the fridge within a week of you falling into the coma and Bruce has paid rent on your place. Alfred even went by once a month to clean. Everything’s still there so no need to panic.”

Tim let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “Good. I guess I shouldn’t be so concerned over material things, but-”

“Hey,” Jason said, voice gentle as he washed Tim’s hair. “It’s understandable. That was your place and you had a life there, but it’s nothing you can’t go back to. Your neighbors might just be a little surprised to see you around again.”

“Yeah…” Tim said and let Jason continue in silence.

~~

Jason fidgeted outside of Tim’s bedroom. He’d long since moved out of the Cave now that he was getting stronger. He was getting better at walking but any long distances he needed to cover were still done in a wheelchair. Jason was beyond proud of the progress he’d been making and even though Tim still had his bad days, he was happier about his current state now that he could move around just a little more easily.

Jason raised his hand and rapped on Tim’s door.

“Come in,” Tim called.

Jason let out a heavy breath and wrapped long fingers around the doorknob before he turned it and pushed inside. “Hey.”

Tim looked up from where he was lying in bed, his laptop in his lap. He smiled. “Hey. What’s up? You didn’t come to pull me away from my work, did you?”

Jason rolled his eyes, feeling some of his anxiety and worry ease. “Of course not. Normally I’d be all too happy to pull you away from the computer but you’re intent on getting caught up with your college classes and I can’t really blame you for that.”

“Good,” Tim said. “Although I might be persuaded to put it away if Alfred’s cookies are involved.”

“Good to now,” Jason said, trailing off as he fought to get the words out for what he’d really come to ask.

“Is something wrong?” Tim asked, eyes raking over him intensely.

“I…I just wanted to ask you something,” he mumbled.

Tim straightened and closed the lid of his laptop, setting it to the side as he gave Jason his attention. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I know this might seem a little sudden or weird, but I was kind of hoping that…I mean you know we’ve been getting closer to each other since you woke up and we definitely don’t have the same hostility as we did before, but that doesn’t mean you want the same things I want and-“

“Jason,” Tim said, gentle smile pulling the corners of his lips upwards. “Just ask the question.”

“Would go out? I mean, would you go out? With me? On a date?” He cringed after getting the last question out, hating that he couldn’t do this eloquently.

Tim stared at him, blinking rapidly as he fought to process the question Jason had asked. “What?” he blurted.

“I’d like to go out on a date with you,” Jason clarified.

“But why?”

Jason frowned. “What do you mean why?”

“Why would you want to go out with me? I can barely walk. I look ill. Where are we going to go where I’m not going to be stared at like I’m some zoo animal?”

“You’re getting better and looking healthier every day,” Jason said, frowning as his defenses rose over Tim. “And no other person in the world has any right to know what’s going on in your life or why you look the way you do. They’re assholes and you have every right to go out into Gotham and live your life. Just because they don’t understand or aren’t smart enough to comprehend that it’s none of their business, doesn’t mean you should shut yourself away so they don’t have to see you at all.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Tim huffed. “Where are we going to go when I can barely walk?”

Jason closed the distance between them, bracing his hands on the edge of Tim’s bed. “You just leave that to me,” he said. “I just need to know whether you’d like to go out with me or not.”

Tim stared at him, eyes flitting around his face. “I-” he cut himself off and pursed his lips. “Okay,” he agreed. “Yes, I’d like to go out with you.”

Jason smiled, his heartrate taking off in his chest, even if Tim reluctantly agreed because of his current situation. He knew Tim wanted to go with him. He wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t. But they were going on a date. And that was something Jason had been wanting for a while. Ever since Tim woke up.

“Great,” he said, straightening. “I’ll get everything setup. Does Friday night work for you?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “My schedule isn’t exactly filled with demanding people, Jason.”

Jason shrugged. “Just want to make sure. You could easily have a chunk of time on Friday reserved specifically for you.”

Tim smiled, expression fond. “No Jason, I don’t have any time scheduled for me on Friday and I’m good to go on our date whenever you get it planned.”

Jason nodded. “Good. Now, I have some planning to do and I’m sure you’d like to get back to your schoolwork.”

“Bye Jason,” Tim sang, already reaching for his laptop.

Jason closed the door behind him and took a handful of steps before he sagged against the wall, butterflies swarming inside him as giddiness wrapped his heart in soft velvet.

~~

“Okay, are you ready?” Jason asked, rolling Tim’s chair to the back door of the Manor.

“Yes, Jason,” Tim huffed, fingers itching to pull the blindfold from his eyes to see what Jason was planning.

“Here we go,” Jason breathed, sliding the blindfold off Tim’s eyes.

Tim stared through the open back door of the Manor at the small table under the white canopy that had been erected. A pair of candles rested on the white tablecloth and two place settings were waiting for them, one with a chair and one without.

“You did all of this?” Tim asked, looking up at him.

Jason nodded. “You were nervous about going out in public and I thought the best thing to do would be to have a nice dinner in the backyard. And I don’t think any restaurant could’ve been better than Alfred’s cooking.”

Tim smiled, his eyelids drooping as he got a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“Even more beautiful up close and with food,” Jason said, rolling the chair down the ramp that lead from the back porch to the lawn below.

He positioned Tim in front of the open side of the table and took a minute to fill their glasses from the pitcher of water resting between their plates.

“I wanted to bring wine, but Alfred wouldn’t let me,” Jason said, taking the seat across from Tim.

Tim smiled. “Was it because of my lack of body mass or because I’m underage by a year?”

“Strangely enough it was because of your lack of body mass. I think he’s worried I’m going to get you super drunk and take advantage of your virtue.”

Tim chuckled and took a sip from his glass. “Anyone who knows you, knows that you’d be the last person to take advantage of anyone’s virtue.”

“I resent that,” Jason scoffed even as he smiled.

“You shouldn’t,” Tim said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re a good guy and anyone would be lucky to know you.”

Jason cleared his throat and fought down the rush of blood to his cheeks.

“So,” Tim said. “What are we having for dinner?”

Jason shrugged. “I let Alfred decide. I didn’t want to put too much pressure on him since I’m sure he’s going to have very strong opinions about what you should be eating.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “At this rate, I’m not going to get anything but soup.”

“Don’t be so sure, Master Timothy,” Alfred said, striding across the lawn with two covered trays. “I wouldn’t restrict your diet on such an important and fun evening.”

He set the trays in front of them and lifted the lids to reveal a small side salad and a plate filled with mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus, a small slice of roasted chicken with a light gravy, and a small, single-serving chocolate cake.

“Enjoy,” Alfred said, bowing slightly before he made his exit with the tray lids.

“Wow,” Tim breathed. He snatched up his fork and dug into the mashed potatoes, shoving a bite into his mouth. His eyes slid shut and he whimpered. “These are delicious.”

Jason ducked his head to hide his smile. “I’m glad you like it.” He ate his own food slower than Tim did. They didn’t talk much but Jason was more than happy to listen to Tim enjoy his own food after being stuck on broth and light meals for so long.

“Jason?” Tim asked.

He glanced up and found Tim staring at his chocolate cake with a wistful smile on his face.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Thank you. For all of this. It really means a lot to me that you did this,” he murmured, raising his gaze to meet Jason’s.

“I’d do anything for you,” Jason admitted, voice soft and quiet between them as the sky turned pink over their heads.

~~

Jason’s voice was soft in the muted light of Tim’s room. They’d pulled the curtains shut to block out the sunlight and turned on the lamp sitting on Tim’s bedside table. He was slowly making his way through the Harry Potter books they’d decided to pick up on impulse and Jason had insisted on reading to him.

Jason loved getting to read to Tim. He loved books and reading in general, but it helped Tim relax and pulled him away from his homework that he was quickly working through. It was a miracle he wasn’t trying to get caught up with W.E too, or he’d be working himself to the bone and would be ten times as exhausted as physical therapy left him on some days.

Tim sighed and Jason glanced down at him, finding his head resting on his shoulder. The words died in his throat and Tim looked up at him, question evident in his gaze that he didn’t want him to stop reading.

Time froze between them. Jason let the book fall against his thighs and glanced down at Tim’s lips, watching as Tim’s tongue darted out to wet them. He dragged his gaze up to meet Tim’s eyes and found something shining in them that he was sure he’d seen before, but Tim had quickly hidden once he’d caught him looking.

Jason ducked his head, unable to resist the pull between them and pressed their lips together.

Tim sighed and pressed against him, his arms wrapping around his shoulders. Jason abandoned his book and wormed his arm behind Tim’s back, pulling him tightly against his side. He tried to be gentle with his thin frame, but couldn’t resist wrapping Tim in a tight hug. Tim was quickly becoming stronger and more well-defined now that he was building up muscle again and Jason found that he was losing reasons to keep Tim at a distance.

Tim pulled back, smile pulling his lips wide as he snuggled against Jason’s side. Jason pressed one last kiss to the top of his head and grabbed his book, balancing it with one hand on his legs as he continued to read, his other arm still wrapped around Tim’s back.

~~

“Alright Master Timothy. When you’re ready,” Alfred said, hands hovering around Tim’s form.

Jason kept his distance, letting Tim balance on his feet next to the hospital bed. He could see the anxiety and worry in Tim’s eyes at walking longer distances without the help of a cane or crutches. But there was hope there, too, even if it was dim. Jason knew Tim was trying to force it back, trying not to get his hopes up and expect too much.

Any form of setback had been hard enough for him when he first started physical therapy. Now, if he wasn’t able to walk on his own when he’d been hoping to do that for so long would only end with Tim shutting himself away in his room for the rest of the day. Jason knew there was nothing he’d be able to do to pull Tim from the depression that would send him into.

Tim sucked in a deep breath before he moved one foot forward. He shifted his weight, testing it to make sure his leg would hold before he completely came off his back leg. His gaze stayed focused on the ground as he walked and with each step he took, he was more certain in his movements even if progress was slow.

Jason spotted the tears forming in the corners of Tim’s eyes before he sniffed. He paused when he was halfway across the floor and Jason gripped his biceps where his arms were crossed, thinking Tim had made it as far as he could.

“Master Timothy?” Alfred asked.

Tim shook his head and took another shaky breath. He raised his gaze and met Jason’s eyes. He took another step forward and Jason spread his arms, waiting for Tim to meet him.

Tim’s smile grew as he continued to close the distance between them. It was a shaky smile and tears slid down his cheeks, but he’d finally shown himself that he was getting back to where he needed to be.

Jason was tempted to sweep Tim up into his arms once he was within reach, but he let Tim come to him and wrap his arms around his shoulders, closing the last inches between them just because he could.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jason murmured into his hair as Tim trembled against him.

“Thank you,” Tim breathed. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. Think you can make it back?”

Tim’s laugh was wet and heavy. “I wish, but I’m not sure my legs can hold up for another trip.”

Jason nodded and looked up at Alfred. “I think he’ll still need crutches to get back.”

Alfred smiled. “Not to worry, Master Jason. That was already excellent progress.”

~~

“I’m getting really tired of these crutches,” Tim grumbled as he wrestled them out of the car.

“I know, but before you know it, you can chuck them across the yard or light them on fire and you never have to use them again,” Jason said, easing Tim out of the car so he could get them under his armpits.

He grabbed their bag and beach towels and braced the large umbrella against his side as he shut the trunk and locked the car. The sun was shining brightly over their heads and even if Tim couldn’t exactly frolic through the sand, Jason was happy to have brought Tim to the beach and gotten him out of the house.

Tim carefully moved from the paved parking lot to the sand, the transition to less firm ground awkward for his untrained muscles and unsteady as the crutches shifted unexpectedly.

Jason didn’t force him to walk too far before he set the bag down and got to work setting up the umbrella to block them from the sun. Tim tossed his crutches to the side and stood in one spot as he rolled out the towels next to each other.

Jason helped him sit down and stretch out his legs before he took the towel next to him. He could see people giving them curious glances, but he fought to ignore them and would keep Tim’s attention away from them as long as he could.

Tim sighed and tilted his head back, inhaling the salty smell of the ocean as a breeze blew in from the water.

“Thank you,” Tim said, turning to look at him.

“For what?” Jason asked, smile tugging at his lips as he pulled out the bottle of sunscreen and poured some into his hand.

“For bringing me here. I hadn’t even realized how much I missed being outside. It’s been so long since I’ve been away from the house.”

Jason paused in rubbing the lotion into his skin. He glanced at Tim who looked peaceful and happy despite the work that he still needed to do to get back to full strength. He finished rubbing the sunscreen over his skin quickly and rolled onto his knees, shifting closer to Tim.

“Tim,” he prodded.

Tim looked at him, grin pulling at his lips. Jason never would’ve expected Tim to look at him with that kind of care in his life, but he was glad he got the chance to see it and was the reason for it being there.

Jason ducked his head and pressed their lips together. Tim tangled his fingers in Jason’s hair and kept him pressed closed, content to stay together under the umbrella.

“You want some ice cream?” Jason asked, pulling back.

Tim chuckled. “Maybe later. I’d like to just sit here and enjoy this. And I should probably put on some sunscreen first,” he said, snatching the bottle from Jason’s towel as Jason stretched out on his back. “I don’t need to add sunburn or skin cancer to my list of medical problems.”

Jason hummed and tucked his hands under his head, content to lie next to Tim and listen to the waves crash and the laughter of the other beachgoers as the breeze blew over them.

~~

Tim giggled as Jason set him down at the edge of the waves. They’d left the crutches back with their things and as much as Tim wanted to walk on his own, Jason didn’t want him to exhaust himself before he could even enjoy the ocean.

Tim gripped his hand and tangled their fingers together. “Jason?”

Jason squeezed his hand. “What is it?”

“Do you think I’ll ever be able to fight again?”

Jason huffed and pressed a kiss to the side of Tim’s head. They’d had this conversation more times than he could count, and he always had the same answer.

“I know you can. You’re strong and you’ll be back in fighting shape before you know it.”

Tim sighed and wiggled his toes in the sand as the waves crashed around his ankles. “I hope you’re right,” he murmured.

“Of course I am. Just trust me, okay?”

Tim looked up at him, eyes gleaming. He nodded and Jason pulled him a little further into the water, letting him experience the world through all of his senses once again.

~~

Tim gasped for breath as he fought to finish another pushup.

“Last one, Tim,” Jason said, kneeling at his side.

Tim managed to straighten his arms before his knees hit the mat and he fought to catch his breath, sweat dripping from his nose and chin.

“Good, good. You’re getting stronger.”

Tim flashed him a tired smile before he sat back on his heels and grimaced, wiping the sweat from his face.

“That’s it for the strength training today. Come on, let’s stretch out your muscles and then we can do some laps around the track.”

Tim nodded and pushed himself to shaky feet as he started to stretch out his tired muscles. Feeling like a limp noodle was never the best feeling in the world but he knew he was getting stronger and that made it worth it.

And watching Tim go through training to get back to where he wanted to be was astounding and he wished everyone knew how dedicated and strong Tim was.

Tim was everything Jason wasn’t and Jason felt like the luckiest guy in the world since he got to spend his life with him and watch him grow and love him for all he was worth.

~~

Jason ducked under the reach of Tim’s arm as he threw another punch at him. He tapped Tim’s ribs twice before putting space between them. Tim’s movements weren’t any less precise than they’d been when he was at his full strength, but he still tired more easily.

“Come on, Tim. Is that the best you’ve got?” Jason taunted, bouncing from foot to foot.

Tim grit his lips and rushed towards him, intent on getting the next hit in. Jason evaded, keeping distance between them as Tim chased him around the mat. They’d been building up to this for months now.

Tim had been eager to get back on the mats and spar and Jason had wanted to make sure he wasn’t at risk of injury before they started fighting. He knew Tim wouldn’t hold back even if Jason pulled his punches and he didn’t need to injure himself and go through even more physical therapy. Jason wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle that. Not now. Not when he was so close.

Tim swung out his leg to kick him in the side and Jason caught it before the blow could hit his side. He used the hold to flip Tim onto his stomach.

“Oof,” Tim said as all the air rushed from his lungs. He stayed there, taking in deep breaths as Jason released his leg.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, dropping down next to him.

Tim rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, a faraway look in his eyes.

Jason sighed when he saw the moisture gathering in the corners. “Tim…”

Tim shook his head and smiled, pushing himself into a sitting position. “It’s nothing, I swear. Just…thank you for this. Thank you for helping me and being there and doing everything when you didn’t owe me anything. I never thought I’d get back to this point again. Not after the year I spent in a coma. It means a lot to me. Everything you’ve done and continue to do. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to make it up to you.”

Jason wrapped his fingers around the back of Tim’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “I want you to have everything you want and need. And you don’t need to make it up to me. I did all of this because I wanted to. I did all of this because I love you, Tim.”

Tears slid down Tim’s cheeks and he ducked his head, fighting to keep his breathing steady. “I love you, too, Jason,” he whispered.

Jason smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Tim’s head. “Why don’t you come patrolling with me next week? We’ll stay away from the heavy hitters, but I think you could handle some muggings or break-ins.”

Tim’s head snapped up and he looked at him with wide eyes. Jason wheezed when Tim’s arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured into his neck.

Jason chuckled and wrapped his arms around Tim’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. “Anything for you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Tim’s temple.

~~

Tim landed on the rooftop, breathing heavy and limbs shaking with energy and adrenaline. The robber they’d caught was tied up in the alley below and Jason had already sent the call to the GCPD.

“You okay?” Jason asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. His suit was lose on his thin frame, but Jason knew it wouldn’t be long before Tim made up his lost muscle mass and was back where he used to be.

Tim stared out over Gotham and took a deep breath of the polluted and tainted air, once again realizing just how much he’d been missing during the year he’d been stuck in his own head. The fake Gotham he’d lived in hadn’t had the same familiarity. It hadn’t been home. And he hadn’t had one of the most important things in his life. He hadn’t had Jason.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for everything, Jason.”

Jason squeezed Tim’s shoulder, knowing just how much emotion he was holding back. He might not be able to keep it hidden the rest of the night and knew Tim would probably need someone to hold him once they got back from patrol and the full force of what he’d done hit him.

But for now, they had more minor criminals they could stop, and Jason was going to help keep Tim going for as long as he could. He smiled and pulled Tim across the rooftop to the edge. They looked at the street below and listened to the police sirens in the distance as they hurtled towards their location for the gift-wrapped criminals.

Jason took a deep breath and wrapped an arm around Tim’s waist. He shot his grapple and they jumped, continuing their run across Gotham’s rooftops.

 If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

[turtlewritesthings]

Recovery Ch2 is UP

Check it out here on Ao3!

It’s 7k so I won’t be posting it here, unfortunately. It’s turned into a bit of a monster - reaching 20k+ in total on the draft right now and only getting longer.

[chronically-illustrated]

Ice Cubes

A Coma Fic

Heeey so I used to write a lot, but I haven’t for years because of the burnout during college. I recently decided I might try out some fanfiction to get back into writing and I’ve been really inspired by writers in this community. So I just started into this coma fic thing focused on Chase, and it got really real for me because depression and alcoholism are things I’ve dealt with and seen family members deal with. I’m not completely sure about sharing it, but the people I’ve mentioned it to seem excited to read it, so I’m just going to be brave and do it. Also I tried my best to represent Schneep’s accent but I dunno how well I did. XD

CW for depression and alcohol abuse. It’s sad but has a more hopeful ending because that’s what Chase deserves - spoiling that now so nobody has to worry about getting stabbed in the heart too much.

1.

The hardest part was watching Signe pretend everything was fine.

That still form in the bed, the curtained windows, the mind-numbing rhythm of beeps from the heart monitor - that was bad enough. It was bad enough to see that face that was always so animated, so full of expression and laughter, completely still, lit only by the glow of the machines that confirmed he was still alive. It was bad enough to watch the doctor lift his eyelids and shine a light into each eye, watching the pupils constrict to make sure he wasn’t braindead. It was bad enough seeing one of his best friends in the world lie there in a coma, knowing there was nothing he could do.

It was somehow worse to watch Signe come in and sit on the bed and talk to him, tell him about her day, say his name as many times as she could in the hope her voice would reach him.

But the hardest part was listening to her record videos and act so cheerful, as if it nothing was going on. They’d agreed it would be best for Chase to fill in for recording because he had the most experience with making videos; they’d agreed it would be best not to alarm everyone with Jack’s sudden disappearance; they’d agreed keeping up the appearance of normality was the best way to buy them all time to figure out how to help their friend. He knew he could put on the mask and act the part, feigning cheerfulness no matter what he actually felt. He did that every day anyway. What he hadn’t considered was having to watch someone else do the same thing. She wasn’t recording as much, so she didn’t have to do as much acting, but when she did, he found himself listening from another room, detecting the small cracks in the mask that she would probably edit out. He couldn’t even bring himself to say how painfully well he understood. He’d been pretending so long that he’d developed an instinct not to talk about it, not to break character.

Sometimes his thoughts strayed to the certain knowledge nobody would be there sitting at his bedside if he were to simply not wake up one day. He felt guilty for thinking that way, for making it about himself. This was no time for self-pity. That didn’t change the tendencies of his thoughts, of course - they found a way in regardless.

He wasn’t sure what day it was. It all blended together. Every morning, he’d flounder up from a restless sleep, snooze his alarm too many times, drag himself off the couch, and wander blearily into the kitchen where coffee was waiting in the pot. He’d make a mental note to thank Signe for making it and forget to actually thank her. Sometimes he showered, sometimes he stared at the shower and then muttered, “Fuck it,” and put on a hat before heading to the recording room. He honestly tried to enjoy the games, but imitating Jack’s enthusiasm day after day was harder than he’d expected. He hardly knew what he was saying sometimes, and when he realized that, he’d wonder if it even mattered. People would notice sooner or later that he was an impostor.

He kept up with the videos and the thumbnails, but people started to notice his style on the thumbnails wasn’t quite the same as Jack’s. He had no idea how many days he’d sat in that chair that didn’t belong to him and pretended to be someone else, but he was starting to feel like he couldn’t keep up much longer.

The clink of ice cubes hitting the bottom of the glass was the only comforting part of the routine. He always used three, and dropped them in one after another, enjoying the sound and the familiarity of it. He was like one of Pavlov’s dogs, feeling a bit better hearing those three clinks that meant an hour or two of letting everything else fall away. He knew how bad that was, how spending all day waiting for when he could slip down into the numbness of alcohol was a problem, but it was more frightening to think of lying on the couch with his sober thoughts for hours and hours, alone in the darkness inside and out. Everyone else was asleep when he sat down to drink before bed, and there was comfort in knowing nobody else would see what a mess he really was.

He finally hit a moment where he couldn’t keep the mask together anymore when Tie kept glitching and he couldn’t advance in the game. The game was already uncomfortably relatable, but he had to pretend it wasn’t - he had to pretend he was Jack, the guy who was always happy and always put a positive spin on everything. And then the game BROKE and made him repeat the same moment over and over and wouldn’t let him go anywhere, and...he was so tired. He didn’t even do an outro or say anything about not being able to get further in the game. He just started talking, not even sure what he was saying, forgetting that an audience of millions was going to see the mask slip. He didn’t care anymore, and that made it worse, because his friend needed him, and he was failing. He didn’t have the energy to care. He sent the video to Robin without bothering to come up with some kind of ending to replace his rambling.

It wasn’t until he was reading the comments on YouTube that he realized someone had also apparently recorded him drinking at some point, and sent that to Robin as well, and the editor had actually included it in the video for whatever reason. He felt a flash of anger but didn’t have the energy to sustain it. And there was a strange, dull kind of relief in having the secret spilled by someone else, knowing it was out of his hands and he didn’t have to try so hard to pretend anymore.

He drank even more that night than usual.

2.

Henrik sighed as he lowered Jack’s eyelids again and clicked the light off.

“Is he okay?” Chase asked softly, suddenly painfully aware of how pale and small and still his friend seemed in the bed.

“He iz ze same,” the doctor responded wearily. “Stable.”

Chase gritted his teeth to fight the tears that threatened to fill his eyes. “Can’t you do anything?”

“I have done vat I can.” Henrik’s face was in shadow, his back to the machines, but Chase could see the deep lines of his furrowed brow as he gazed down at their friend. Henrik was always transparent with his emotions this way - he looked worried when he felt worried, looked sad when he felt sad, looked angry when he felt angry.

Chase lowered his eyes and fought down a strange pang of jealousy and the guilt that followed it. “Well, I gotta go get some videos done,” he said a bit too loudly, and turned to leave the room, almost colliding with Signe as she was coming in. He flinched out of the way and hurried into the hall before she could say anything, his throat tight with the emotions trying to force their way out.

He made it through the recordings without letting the facade slip again, which was as close to a small victory as he could get these days. He wandered into the kitchen, stood in front of the open fridge staring at the contents for a while, then closed the fridge and got a bottle of whiskey down from the cupboard. The sound of the ice cubes hitting the bottom of the glass seemed so loud at this time of night - or morning. He wasn’t sure what time it was anymore.

He’d been sitting at the table for a while when Henrik came in. Half hoping the doctor wouldn’t notice he was there, Chase held still in the shadows of the corner as Henrik removed his cap and rubbed his eyes, then went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. Without looking at Chase, the doctor sat down across from him at the table and opened the bottle, letting the cap drop onto the table between them.

“A bit of poison neva hurt anybody, eh?” the doctor asked quietly as he raised the bottle to his lips, finally making eye contact with Chase as he did.

Chase laughed, the alcohol making it difficult to control his reactions. His vision swam a little as he looked down at the empty glass next to his hand, the ice cubes nearly melted at the bottom.

Henrik watched him quietly for a moment before setting the bottle down, making lines in the condensation with his fingertips. “I vant you to promise me somesing.”

Chase tilted his head and tried to focus. “What’s up, doc?” He laughed again as his brain sluggishly connected the reference.

Henrik’s gaze was steady, his hands still on the bottle in front of him. “It iz maybe the wrong time, but… I vant you to promise you vill stop trying to leave zis way.”

“What?” Chase shook his head blearily, suddenly wishing he were less drunk. He could feel that this was important, but it was so difficult to pay attention.

“Am I wrong in sinking zis” - he gestured toward the whiskey bottle and the ice cubes melting in the glass - “is your vay of trying to die?”

“What? No,” Chase shook his head emphatically, got dizzy, and held a hand against his forehead to steady himself, wishing again that he were more lucid for this conversation. “No, it just - it helps to calm down, ya know? Relax and sleep.”

“Are you avare that going to sleep drunk means bad sleep?”

“I mean, no, but… I can’t sleep otherwise, so at least it’s something.”

The doctor took another sip of his beer. When he put it down, be began to scratch at the edge of the label, peeling off small strips as he spoke. “My friend iz in a coma and I can’t talk to him. My oza friend is drinking himself to death and vill not talk to me about what iz happening, he just pretend to smile like everysing iz okay. Jackieboy Man iz supposed to protect us but ve cannot reach him. Ze ozas are trying to speak to Jack, but he doesn’t hear zem.”

Chase sat frozen, the alcohol making it impossible to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes and slid down over his cheeks, dripping into the glass on top of the last remnants of the ice cubes. “I -”

Henrik raised a hand to stop him. “I know you are trying ze best you can,” he continued gently. “Ve all are. But vat I am saying is ve need you here. I need you here.”

Chase choked out a sob, unsure why it was hearing that, specifically, that hurt so much, like ripping open a wound he’d been trying to hide.

Henrik reached across the table and put a hand on his shoulder. “I say again, I need YOU here, my friend. Not zis pretend Chase who sayz nothing about needing help.”

Chase reached up and gripped the doctor’s arm, too overwhelmed to thank him any other way. Henrik stayed with him until he’d cried himself into exhaustion, then led him to the couch. Chase flopped down and was asleep before the doctor had even finished spreading a blanket over him.

3.

He woke up with the worst headache he’d ever had. It had been a while since he’d had a hangover - or maybe he’d just learned to live in a state of constant hangover and didn’t know what it felt like not to be sick anymore. Either way, it had been a long time since he’d woken up feeling so sick. When he reached up to turn off the alarm blaring from his phone, he noticed a glass of water and a couple aspirin tablets next to it, and swallowed them gratefully. He wandered into the kitchen for coffee, shielding his eyes from the lights overhead.

It should have been an awful day, but it was somehow easier to record the videos despite the hangover. He managed to enjoy poking fun at the games. He knew he wasn’t perfectly imitating Jack’s boundless positivity and viewers would probably pick up on the fact that something was a bit off, but the secret was out anyway - they knew it was him in front of the camera now, and that made it a little easier to just be himself instead of trying to be Jack. He did the intro and everything just because it felt right to keep some kind of consistency, but he didn’t try so hard to fake joy, and somehow that made it easier to actually feel a little bit of joy while recording.

He visited Jack after recording and talked to him for a bit longer than usual. They knew each other so well that he could easily imagine what the Irishman’s responses would be to just about everything he said, and instead of adding to the pain, it brought him a little comfort for once. He talked about the dumb games he’d played that day and told jokes he knew Jack would like, hoping his friend was laughing, wherever his consciousness was.

“You’re really something else, dude,” Chase murmured, holding his friend’s limp hand. “You should’ve seen Schneep last night. I...don’t remember everything exactly, but - like, we’re so different, he’s so different from me, but he knew exactly what to say. And it just made me think how all these people who are so different are all here together because of you, because you bring out the best in all of us and make us all want to help each other. That’s what you do for everyone in the community too. I didn’t even realize it was like this til I had to fill in, but you really have something here, bro. I know you don’t like people praising you a ton and giving you all the credit, but whatever, you can’t stop me anyway.” He smiled sadly. “I really hope you wake up soon, dude. You should see all this.” Tears welled in his eyes and he felt the headache start to pound in his temples, and for some reason it made him laugh. “It’s bullshit my body and brain never feel good at the same time. But you’d say to focus on the good, right?”

There was a soft knock on the door behind him and Signe poked her head in. She met Chase’s eyes and seemed like she was going to retreat.

“Hey, Wiish!” he called out, smiling warmly. “Thank you for making coffee today. Actually, thank you for always making coffee. I used to be more of a tea guy, but I dunno if I could keep up all this without that stuff every day - what does he call it? Dirty bean water?”

She laughed, her expression a mix of fondness and pain. “Yes, that’s what he calls it. And you’re welcome.”

“Woosher’s here to talk to ya, dude. I’ll see you later,” Chase told his friend, squeezing his hand before letting go. He patted Signe on the shoulder as they walked past each other. It was a little awkward, but he hoped she understood the gesture.

The doctor was waiting outside the door, and looked up with a quiet smile as Chase left the room. “How are you feeling?”

Chase laughed and then put a hand to his head to stop the pounding. “Like absolute shit. Thanks for the aspirin.”

Henrik’s smile widened. “I do vat I can.”

Chase grinned. He wanted to hug the doctor but it didn’t feel quite -

He almost yelped in surprise when Henrik grabbed him into a hug before he could even decide what to do.

“I am proud of you, little brozer.”

Chase hid his face in the doctor’s lab coat and cried. There was nothing else he could do. It felt like he’d had this plug in his heart and it had been pulled and everything he’d been trying not to feel came rushing out. The relief was overwhelming, painful but good. He apologized for being such a crybaby when he caught his breath enough to talk.

“Tears have an important part in health,” the doctor replied, holding him at arm’s length with hands on his shoulders. “Do not apologize for being honest about how you are feeling, my friend.”

“Thanks, dude. Sorry for the snot on your coat.”

Henrik made a face and looked down. “Oh. Vell. It needed to be vashed anyvay.”

Chase laughed. “I’ll let you get to it. Thanks, doc.”

The kitchen seemed smaller than usual, like there was less empty space somehow. He couldn’t really stomach anything because of the hangover, which included alcohol, but he was glad for the excuse not to drink. It was a strange thought, needing an excuse not to drink. Things had really gotten out of hand. For today, at least, he’d get out of the cycle of daily drinking. Tomorrow, he’d think about what to do going forward.

He dropped three ice cubes into a glass and poured water over them. It tasted amazing.