A Collisions in the Dark AU, where instead of rescuing Tim from her father, Talia chooses to save Jason’s life, leaving Tim at the mercy, and wrath, of Ra’s al Ghul. Tim eventually wins his freedom, but the price he pays for it? Serving as a double agent for Ra’s, who wants to give Bruce a taste of his own medicine.
_____
Nanda Parbat, Tibet
October 7, 4:00 pm
It was late afternoon in the courtyard gardens in Ra’s’ compound and Tim sat on a stone bench under the shade of a rhododendron bush in full bloom. He breathed in the honey-scented air and stared at the small water feature gurgling away in front of him, his thoughts occupied with various plans of escape. Located two stories above the ground floor, Tim was originally drawn to the gardens because of the courtyard walls. They looked easy enough to scale and picking his way down the mountainside seemed far safer than braving the sheer drop from his window to the rocky ledge far below.
However, Nanda Parbat was nestled in a small valley of the Tanggula mountain range — carob-colored rockfaces ascending around them from all sides. Even if he managed the climb over the courtyard wall unseen, he doubted he’d survive such a journey at that altitude as it would mean climbing free solo, higher, over the nearest ridge and descending down the other side until he could find the Tanggula pass which navigated through the range.
So instead, Tim sat in the garden and tried not to think about how small and narrow his life had become in such a vast open region as the Tibetan plateau. The irony of it was painful to him — like the universe was playing a sick joke and he was the punch line.
Over the course of a few days, he had developed a routine of irregularity. Each morning he awoke at sunrise and slipped out of his room to find a new area of Ra’s compound to retreat to— the library, the small Buddist temple where some of the recruits performed their morning meditations, and most recently the gardens — intent on being anywhere that Ra’s was not. But there came a point every afternoon where he found that he couldn’t hide no matter how far he wandered and he’d startle at a servant’s hand on his shoulder ready to escort him back to his room to clean up for dinner.
Gravel crunched behind him. Too early, Tim thought and knew it wasn’t a servant coming to get him. He made to stand but too late. Halfway to his feet, an arm snaked around his torso and he found himself pulled into the snare of Ra’s’ embrace, his back held flush against Ra’s’ solid chest.
Ra’s’ other hand caught him under the chin and pulled his head back until it rested over his shoulder. Tim gasped at the effort of it— his back curving like a bow, hips unwittingly pressing up into Ra’s’ forearm if only to relieve the strain.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding all day.” Ra’s breathed against the shell of his ear, his mouth so close his teeth almost nipped at his skin with every word he spoke. “I should have guessed after what you asked me last night. The gardens do offer the best views.”
True to the agreement that Tim had negotiated, last night saw them back in Ra’s’ bedroom. He hadn’t intended on ending up back there so soon but a servant had placed a pitcher of Arak on the table during dinner and Tim had steeled his nerves with one too many glasses of the strong cloudy-colored liquid. And before he knew what had happened, they were standing face to face outside of Ra’s’ bedroom door breathing in each other’s anise-scented breaths.
Ra’s chuckled as he stumbled and leaned heavily into his shoulder. “I will have to remember to teach you how to hold you Arak, Detective.”
“ Where are we?”
“Outside my bedroom.”
I should leave, he remembered thinking to himself. But his brain was sluggish and apparently set on other goals besides his own safety. “No — I meant…”
Ra’s’ fingers found his hair and carded through it absentmindedly. Tim couldn’t think straight when he did that — not when thinking was already so hard for his alcohol-saturated brain as it was.
He shoved off of Ra’s’ shoulder and propped himself up against the stone doorway. The effect was a sensation like falling off a two-story building and Tim pressed his shoulders harder against the stones at his back as the world around him twisted and lurched.
He squeezed his eyes shut and waved a hand vaguely around him, indicating the compound itself. “No, where are we in Tibet?”
There was silence from the older man across from him. When he felt well enough to open his eyes again he found Ra’s staring unrelentingly at him, his eyes a dangerous mixture of hunger and suspicion.
He wasn’t nearly as drunk as Tim was at the moment. Not after spending the night drinking Arak — his favorite liquor and one that was almost as ancient and unchanging as he was. He’d had many centuries worth of lives to develop a tolerance for it.
It felt like Ra’s was weighing his options in his mind, considering which answer he would give him. Finally, he pushed the door open, letting it swing until it bounced against the wall.
He inclined his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll tell you?”
Tim peered into the room. It looked innocent enough but he knew looks could be deceiving. “Is this your way of saying you want to make a trade?”
They hadn’t done that since that first night after Ra’s’ had pulled him from his dungeon cell. He had certainly made offers in the days since then, but Tim had been steadfast in refusing him.
Ra’s chuckled again and reached for Tim’s elbow, pulling him close. “I’m saying, I’ve been very patient up until this point, but now it’s very clear that I want you and you want answers. Why don’t we go inside by the fire and see if we can come to an arrangement that leaves us both satisfied?”
Despite his better judgment, Tim stepped with him over the threshold.
“Last night?” Tim’s Adam's apple bobbed against the light cage of Ra’s’ fingers around his throat. Standing there in the garden he tried to recall his scattered memories after the door had closed behind them.
It was hard to remember, or maybe it was more that Tim didn’t really want to remember. To his sluggish brain, it felt like he was watching a film on a malfunctioning projector from behind his own eyes. He found himself trying to piece together the sights and sounds of disconnected scenes but the plot as a whole was lost to him.
They’d shared another glass of Arak between them, himself so drunk he didn’t even remember how he made it onto the floor. Ra’s had lit a fire — Tim remembered the heat on his skin and the scratchy, not entirely pleasant, feeling of the carpet under him as Ra’s unbuttoned his pants and tugged them down his legs.
Had they negotiated this? He couldn’t remember saying yes and it seemed much more likely that if Tim had had a say in how they went forward, Ra’s would be the one shedding his clothes, not Tim.
Ra’s was saying something to him but it sounded far away. He might have dozed without meaning to. The stretch and burn of fingers buried in him startled him back to consciousness and pulled an embarrassing keen out of him before he could stop himself. He arched off the floor like a body resurrected, feeling the sweat soaking into the baby hairs at the back of his neck.
“Wait,” he gasped. He swore a spark from the fireplace must have caught on the carpet, he could feel the fire’s heat radiating around him, threatening to burn him up. But there was nothing there when he tilted his head to check.
He could feel the drag of Ra’s’ fingers as they pulled out and pushed in again.“S-Stop—”
His legs were bent, feet planted firmly on the carpet. Ra’s’ head was buried between his legs, his teeth fastened tight on Tim’s left thigh. He could feel the sharp puncture of them as the muscles in his legs trembled and gave out.
“You don’t want me to stop,” Ra’s declared. He pulled away only to start up again on his other thigh.
It hurt more this time. Tim’s dick— which only a moment ago had laid throbbing on his belly, pearlescent at the slit — wilted at the harsh treatment. He reached between his legs and grabbed for Ra’s’ hair — flattened his thighs to the floor in an attempt to get away but there was nowhere to go.
As if to prove his own body’s responses wrong, Ra’s crooked his fingers inside of him and Tim swore, head banging painfully against the carpet as heat surged through him once again. He curled his fingers tightly in Ra’s’ hair and couldn’t stop the way his hips spasmed, torn between pulling away from his teeth and pressed harder onto his fingers. Ra’s’ was right… a part of him liked this. Liked it a lot. And it was quickly drowning out the part of him that objected to how he got that pleasurable feeling as long as it just kept coming.
He might have come soon after that with Ra’s’ mouth on him but he had no actual memory of it. In fact, he didn’t even remember Ra’s’ answer to his question until he woke up later that night, still on the floor but wrapped in a sheet pulled from Ra’s’ bed.
The Tanggula Mountains near Nagqu prefecture.
The fire was low in the hearth in front of him but it held enough light to see the cum smeared across his belly and the dark pattern of bruises on his inner thighs as he pulled his body out from underneath Ra’s’ slumbering form.
Panicked laughter threatened to burst past his lips. It looked like Ra’s had tried to draw him a map with his teeth.
Get it together, he snapped at himself and went to retrieve his clothing from around the room in quick fashion. He pulled them on quietly, more than happy to hide the signs of his shameful pleasure under layers of clothing.
It wasn’t until he’d slipped into his own room minutes later and yanked the bolt securely across the door that he allowed himself to feel anything.
I just went to bed with Ra’s al Ghul. No, he wanted to amend that because there was never really a doubt that he was going to have to have sex with Ra’s eventually.
It was either choose the when, where, and how it happened or have it forced on him. It had seemed that simple to him at first, but tonight was a stark example of how complex it could actually be. Yes, he’d known what he was getting into when he stepped into that room, but the unpredictable element was Ra’s himself who pressed and maneuvered him like a plaything. Drunk as he was he could do nothing but lay there and ride through the waves of pleasure and pain.
He ran a shaky hand through his tangled hair. That can never happen again.
The only question remaining was how was he going to stop it?
Now, here he was a day later and already tangled in Ra’s’ arms again, achingly contorted for his pleasure, and no closer to a solution.
Ra’s’ breath was hot where it ghosted his ear. “I don’t intend to let you run back to your room so quickly tonight. If I were you, I’d have at least three questions at the ready.”
The thought of that alone made him quake and he could feel the smile that Ra’s pressed to his trembling neck.
Too Late to Say Goodbye (Ch 1): Who’s Watching Wayne?
Summary: [Finale Episode AU] Reggie’s gonna stop Wayne from coming for his 1979 Trans Am for good - by feeding him to the gators.
_ _ _
Wayne flipped back through the Conan comic. He’d already read it cover to cover three times since Sergeant Geller had handcuffed him to an officer’s desk and left him with Ocala’s finest.
He sighed and tossed it back onto the desk, choosing instead to lean back in his chair and close his eyes for a few minutes. Deputy Darren Edwards was at the front desk, clicking through the list of songs on his karaoke machine. It would have been irritating as hell but Wayne had tuned him out long before the entirety of the Ocala PD had cleared out on an emergency call.
The front door banged open, but Wayne kept his head back and eyes shut. He might be under arrest and physically chained to a desk, but nobody could stop him from taking his nap.
“I'd like to get my 1979 Trans Am.”
That got his attention, as did the obnoxious voice that could belong to no one else except Reggie.
Wayne sat upright and glared daggers at Reggie’s back. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that Calvin was locked up in a jail cell down the hall, but it pissed him off to no end knowing that Reggie was still walking around free. If only Reggie had stayed during Calvin’s fight with Sergent Geller, then maybe they’d both be sharing a jail cell bench right now.
“Oh. Uh.” Darren dropped his karaoke mic and flipped through the clipboard on the desk, reading off the handwritten notes on an intake form. “Vehicle is now in impound evidence. It's being shipped back to Brockton, Massachusetts.”
Reggie sucked noisily on the toothpick clamped between his teeth, the sound carried clear across the empty station and only served to wear down what little tolerance Wayne had left.
He ground his teeth and watched from across the room as Reggie leaned casually against the duty officer’s desk. “Well, that's all right, then. Why don't you just go ahead and call me an ambulance?”
Darren blinked. “For who?”
“You.” Wayne flinched as Reggie cracked the officer across the face, sending him crashing to the floor and out of sight. He held his breath, but Darren never resurfaced from behind the desk.
“Get the fuck out of here. Talking about impounding and shit. Motherfucker.”
Reggie snatched the evidence bag with his car keys off the desk and tore it open. He was halfway out the door when he paused.
Ah, hell, Wayne thought as Reggie turned back on his heel to face him.
“Oh. Hey, now—” He chuckled under his breath. “Wayne.”
“Reggie,” Waye replied, trying not to let his annoyance show.
Reggie gave him a once over. “Tied up like a goddamn animal.”
Wayne was acutely aware. He kept his arm planted on the desk trying to look calm and non-threatening… his nerves winding tighter and tighter inside of him with every footstep Reggie took towards him until Wayne feared he’s snap like a spring.
He mentally did the math on how much mobility he’d have in a fight given the length of the chain in the handcuffs that bound him to the desk. Thank god they’d secured him with the legcuffs. It gave Wayne a whole 16 inches— not enough to throw a punch by any means, but enough to weave around any punches that Reggie threw at him.
“Hey,” Reggie continued, snatching up a novelty toy from one of the desks. Wayne flinched at the sudden movement, but luckily Reggie was too oblivious to notice.
Wayne glanced down at what he held. It was a pair of chattering teeth in the shape of an alligator’s jaws. Gotta love Florida.
”You ever watch Animal Planet?” asked Reggie. “Did you know that hyenas don't have any brothers and sisters? You know why?”
He continued without waiting for Wayne’s response. “Because when they real small, in the litter, fighting for they momma's titty, well, you see, the toughest baby hyena, see, he, uh. He kill his brothers and sisters. More titty time for hisself.”
Wayne mentally rolled his eyes again, his fear suddenly overpowered by his annoyance at Reggie’s endless talk of tits and milk… yet another completely unsubtle reference to his mom… their mom. Wayne was still trying not to think about it.
“Now I know you ain't gonna stop coming for my car, so I'm gonna have to make you stop. Make sure you don't come back for that… titty.”
“I don't care about the car no more.” And he meant it. Wayne thought of Sergeant Geller and their conversation about Del. Some things… some people… were more important than any car or family honor code could ever be.
“Bullshit!”
“I don't. You can have it.” Del was his pair of skates and all Wayne wanted to do was get back to her and prove it to her, Geller, and hell the whole of Brockton if he had to.
“Are you trying to reverse my psycholology and shit? Because I ain't biting. Motherfucker.”
Wayne was unprepared for the kick to the chest, pain blooming suddenly under his breast. Before he’d had time to do more that gasp through it a second kick struck him in the ribs. When Reggie tried for a third attempt, however, Wayne was ready. He planted his feet and shoved hard, launching himself backward out of the reach of Reggie’s tacky gold sneakers, pain lancing up his arm as he was jerked to a stop by the handcuffs, the cold metal biting into the tender skin of his wrist.
“Oh, I’m gonna get you now, you little pussy bitch!”
Reggie advanced towards him. Wayne waited for him to get within range, his head thumping like a drum in his chest, both his feet planted firmly on the ground ready to jump up and fight however little he could.
“Hey, Reg! Reggie!” Reggie slowed as Calvin’s shouting reached them from down the hall.
Calvin whistled sharply and banged on the bars of his cell so they rang like a bell. “I’m in the back. Get me out of here.”
Reggie shifted his toothpick to the other side of his mouth and grinned at Wayne. “Wait right here, Motherfucker. Then Calvin and I are gonna make you pay for real.”
Wayne breathed. He might actually have a chance of escaping this.
Reggie walked back across the room and vaulted over the duty officer’s desk, scattering paperwork and office supplies onto the floor. Wayne heard a low groan before Reggie stood clutching the keyring to the jail cells.
The second Reggie disappeared down the hall, Wayne jumped out of his chair and rushed back to the desk. He shoved hurriedly through the police files and containers of paperclips in search of a pair of handcuff keys.
Come on. Come on! Wayne knew he only had a minute or two to spare before Calvin and Reggie would return and beat the crap out of him. His window of escape was closing fast.
Finally, he spotted a dish behind a monitor with a collection of small keys. Wayne had gotten into enough trouble back in Brockton to know his way around a pair of handcuffs. And one thing he’d learned early on was that all handcuff keys were made one-size-fits-all. Wayne scanned through the collection of keys quickly. Padlock key, desk key, filing cabinet key, door key, another door key, fuck! There was no handcuff key anywhere in sight.
He grabbed a paperclip and started working it open with his teeth and his free hand. He was sure he still had enough time to pick it. He bent one end to mimic the shape of the key and jabbed it into the small keyhole. It wouldn’t be an exact fit by any means, but hopefully, if it caught the tumbler just right…
There was a whistle from behind him. Wayne turned in time to catch a glimpse of Calvin before his fist smashed into his face and everything went dark.
A Collisions in the Dark AU, where instead of rescuing Tim from her father, Talia chooses to save Jason’s life, leaving Tim at the mercy, and wrath, of Ra’s al Ghul. Tim eventually wins his freedom, but the price he pays for it? Serving as a double agent for Ra’s, who wants to give Bruce a taste of his own medicine.
Author’s Note: I just wanted to give a special thank you to @the-casual-cheesecake, @versatile-me , and @queeniepearls for encouraging me to finish this chapter (instead of falling back on my usual procrastinating bullshit). This chapter goes out to you guys!
- - - - -
Nanda Parbat, Tibet
October 4, 10:02 pm
Tim awoke and found himself sprawled out on the dark, damp floor of a dungeon cell. He couldn’t say for sure, but he thought it must have only been a few hours since his reunion with Ra’s in the throne room.
He traced the back of his pounding head gingerly, searching for any sign of a head wound.
How funny, he thought with grim humor, that they would drag me all the way up to the throne room just for Ra’s to throw me back down here again. It was a waste of effort if you asked him, though nobody was.
Tim pulled his hand back sharply with a hiss. His fingers were slick with what he could only assume was blood. Perhaps he should just count himself lucky that he wasn’t dead already.
He stood on shaky legs and started to examine his new surroundings as best he could in the oppressive darkness of the cell. Reaching out a hand, he groped the empty air until he found the nearest wall and traced his fingers along the patchy lines of grout. He only found the food left out for him after nearly spilling its contents across the floor.
Tim cursed and crouched down, skimming his hands along the dirty floor until he found the plate with its chunk of bread and cheese and the cup of water. By now his eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, so he took these items and moved back to the dark oblong shape he assumed was a cot.
There was a strange sparking noise above his head—like a moth flying repeatedly into a porch light. He’d just lifted his head to examine it further when harsh white light blazed against his eyes.
“Fucking— ” Whatever words Tim might have finished that sentence with were muffled into the fabric of his sheets as he curled into the mattress and shielded his watering eyes.
The guards’ laughter rang in his ears as he blinked away the dark spots from his vision.
“I’m glad that I’m so amusing to you!” Tim shouted at them. “I’m sure Ra’s will find it equally amusing and not see it as you slacking in your other duties when I tell him on our next meeting.”
Their laughter slowed but didn’t die out entirely. He could still hear the sound of it in their voices as they talked among themselves and left him to continue their rounds.
When, Tim thought, more like ‘if’. He had no way of knowing if Ra’s had left him down here to rot and the fact that the guards were now confident enough to play tricks on him only confirmed how his position had changed for the worse. He could sense that Ra’s’ guards knew it too and were only waiting for Ra’s himself to confirm how far Tim had fallen. Then Tim’s words would be seen for the hollow threats that they really were.
He had many hours to consider this and more. The drip of melted snow seeping through the corner of the cell’s ceiling counted the seconds like a metronome. Plink. Plop. Plink. Plop. He made a mental note to find the spot of the leak later and place his cup under it.
He distracted himself as best he could by cleaning his head wound with a strip of fabric he ripped from his sheets and soaked in water from his drinking cup. Most of the blood had dried into a sensitive scab that he didn’t dare pick at, lest it began to bleed again.
The minutes ticked on, and even though he was afraid he might have a concussion, eventually Tim drifted off into a fitful sleep.
- - - - -
He was jerked back to consciousness by the slam of metal against stone. The fluorescent lights were still blazing strongly above his head so he had a clear view of the pair of men standing in his doorway.
“The Demon Head requests your presence.”
Tim threw his arm across his tired eyes and grunted, “Tell the Demon Head to kindly go fuck himself.”
His only warning was the rustle of fabric as they rushed forward into his room and grabbed him by his ankles, dragging him off his cot. A boot kicked him in the side, knocking him over onto his stomach before his arms were grabbed roughly and bound behind his back.
He yelled as the guards hauled him off the ground and dragged him from the room, pain shooting through his still recovering shoulder. Tim thrashed and cursed, as he struggled to keep his feet under him as they made fast progress along the many halls of Ra’s’ compound.
“Wait— just wait—” Tim panted breathlessly as they stumbled up another narrow staircase that squeezed the guards against his pinned arms and tangled up his feet with their own. He pitched forward, bruising his knees and scraping the skin from his shins against the stone steps.
One of the guards twisted his hand in Tim’s shirt and tugged him back to his feet.
They continued on.
After they’d cleared the last staircase they released his arms and shoved him stumbling forward with a hand to the middle of his shoulder blades. He was beginning to think the guards had been told to handle him roughly for this treatment continued every time he slowed to catch his breath or look over his shoulder for a clue as to which direction he should be heading in.
“If you’d just tell me where we’re going I could—” They’d nearly passed a turn before one of the guards fisted his hand in the collar of Tim’s shirt and used it to yank him roughly to the right.
“This way,” he said helpfully as Tim coughed and sputtered. The other guard snickered behind him.
It was no use and almost a relief when they finally arrived at the door to Ra’s’ bedroom.
They entered without knocking. The room was lit with candles and a blazing fire against one wall. Tim resisted the urge to move closer to the fireplace, though the heat it gave off did feel like the greatest luxury after spending many hours in the damp chilly atmosphere of his cell. Ra’s was perched against the windowsill, pouring himself a glass of wine from the antique cut glass decanter at his hip. The foreboding gray mountains jutted into the black sky through the windows that ran the length of the room behind him. So it was nighttime, Tim noted with interest, and with mild unease realized that Ra’s appeared to be drunk.
“We’ve brought him as you asked, my lord.”
“I hope you weren’t too gentle with him. I sure Timothy can withstand some rough treatment,” Ra’s replied. “You can, can’t you Detective?”
Tim’s chest worked heavily to draw a steady breath as Ra’s took a long drink from his glass and eyed him with a smile.
Finally, Ra’s seemed to grow bored and waved off the guards. “Untie him and leave us.”
The rope fell away from Tim’s wrists and he rubbed the feeling back into his hands, watching Ra’s’ men make their retreat.
When they were gone, Tim spoke up, summoning what little bravado he had left in him. “Drowning your sorrows?”
Ra’s laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve had plenty of time to survey the field now that the smoke’s cleared and it doesn’t look all that bad.”
“How’s that?” asked Tim. “Because I seem to remember today ending with multiple people betraying you and your grand plan being snuffed out like a sad little candle.”
“Well, for one thing, I still have you.”
“Not for long I’m sure.”
“Anticipating a rescue party, are we?” Ra’s cooed. “Oh, Detective, you’re smarter than that. We both know it’ll be a few days before they realize you didn’t make a run for it and longer still until they’re ready to mount a rescue attempt.”
Ra’s pushed away from the wall and walked to a side table where a platter of hard cheese and assorted fruit rested. Tim watched his back as he perused his opinions. “Of course, when they do come I’ll put up quite the defensive effort— for much longer than I think they’ll be willing to fight for you. Siege warfare is such a strenuous affair after all and they have lots of other battles that need fighting. And then... you know how the old saying goes… out of sight, out of mind.”
He snapped off a bunch of grapes and turned back to face Tim.
Tim’s fists curled at his sides. “Wanton drunkenness isn’t a good look on you, Ra’s.”
“Oh, now don’t be a sore loser. I think you’re just angry at yourself for not running when you had the chance.”
Tim’s eyes lowered. He watched the grape Ra’s rolled between his fingers. “I wouldn’t have made it far before you dragged me back.”
“No, you wouldn’t have, but I would’ve loved to see you try all the same. Nothing like the thrill of the chase to get the blood pumping.”
Ra’s popped the grape in his mouth. It crushed between his teeth in a burst of juices. “Still, it does mean we get more quality time together. To really get to know each other.
I already know you more than I care to, he thought to himself. And with every new piece of me you reveal, the less I grow to like myself.
“What am I doing here, Ra’s?” His head and shoulders ached something horrible and these frequent battles of wit that they played together drained what little energy he had left. He just wanted to go back to his prison cell and lose himself in unconsciousness.
“Why, our arrangement of course.”
Tim stared at him. “The deal’s off, I’m pretty sure it died the moment I betrayed you. I can’t be a ‘partner to you in all things’ if I’m locked in a prison cell. And frankly, I don’t care to be.”
“Oh, is that why you thought I locked you up? Oh no, Detective. That was more of a disciplinary action than any decision to condemn you to life imprisonment. Think of it as a demotion. I still want our partnership to continue, but you’ll have to earn your way back into my trust before I’ll share any sensitive information with you— ”
Tim reached the door in two large strides. He used his already clenched fist as a knocker. “Guards!”
“What are you doing?” Ra’s asked as the door opened and the guards returned, looking in confusion from Tim to Ra’s and back again.
“I’m going back to my prison cell because I’m not your personal fucking prostitute, Ra’s,” Tim replied. He held out his hands for the guards to bind. “You can take me back down to my cell now.”
“So, I suppose you don’t want to hear about Jason then?”
Bitter anger surged in Tim all at once. He jerked around with a hiss. “You mean the boy that you killed out of petty teenage-level jealousy simply because I cared about him? Why the fuck would I want to hear about that, huh?”
“Whoever told you he was dead?”
“Stop. Stop toying with me! He was exposed to a lethal dose of anthrax. There’s no way he survived.”
“Oh you’re right about that, but Talia was determined it wouldn’t stay that way. I always told her not to get too attached to her pets, but she never did listen to me.”
“Wha—“ Tim’s hands dropped to his sides. Suddenly his arms felt like overcooked spaghetti instead of muscle and bone.“Are— Are you saying that Jason’s alive?”
“Why should I tell you? Our deal is off,” he eyed him, “isn’t it?”
Tim’s chest felt like it was being constricted, the air slowly being squeezed from his lungs. He tipped his head back and stared unseeing at the ceiling unwilling to believe that even after everything he'd gone through, Ra’s still managed to find strings to pull that forced Tim to dance to his whims like a marionette. He thought he had nothing left to lose and therefore, Ra’s had nothing he could gain. He was wrong.
Tim shook his head, he just needed to keep himself together enough to get through tonight. If he could find out if Jason was alive, it would make it all worth it. With that resolution in mind, he stepped up close to Ra’s, tugged sharply at the older man’s belt buckle releasing the clasp and pulled the leather out through the loops.
Ra’s hummed, amusement playing on his lips. “What’s this?”
“I’m renegotiating,” Tim tossed the belt to the floor. “You said to me once that one favor deserves to be repaid with another. So here’s the new deal. If you want me, fine, but in return, you give me a piece of information that I want as payment. Otherwise, you get nothing.”
Ra’s stood close enough to unsettle the hairs at his temples with his every exhale. “Yes, that is one way we could do it. But what gave you the idea that I need your agreement to do anything? If I want it, I can simply take it.”
Tim tilted his head up and stared him directly in the eyes. “Do we have a deal?”
The silence stretched on for so long that Tim feared he’d lose his nerve before finally Ra’s made up his mind. “Leave us,” he snapped at his men, “and don’t return again until I call for you myself.”
The door shut with a click. Ra’s planted his hand on Tim’s shoulder and shoved hard until he obligingly dropped onto his knees before him. “I’m sure you remember what I taught you on our first night together?”
The knot in Tim’s stomach uncoiled all at once. This was nothing Tim hadn’t already suffered through before. If anything, he was more prepared for it. He could do this, he could.
He unzipped Ra’s’ fly and yanked his pants down around his thighs. There was no underwear to do away with, to no one's surprise.
Tim eyed Ra’s through his lashes. “After I do this… immediately after, you’ll tell me what I want to know?”
Ra’s threaded his fingers through his hair and held it in a tight grip. “Yes, now get to work before I change my mind.”
He pulled Tim towards his crotch. Tim’s face was pressed close to Ra’s’ skin, his every inhale breathing in Ra’s’ sweat and singular musk, before Ra’s released the pressure on the back of his head for him to pull back. Tim got to work, pushing his emotions down and away — the way Bruce had taught him to do when detailing with a violent crime scene or while undercover.
He took Ra’s in his hand, stroking him with a skilled and purposeful movement that Ra’s had taught him himself. It felt like too soon before he was wrapping his lips around Ra’s cock and bobbing forward, rocking back and forth on his knees against the hardwood floor of Ra’s room. Tim knew that the quicker he brought Ra’s over the brink the sooner this would all be over. The noises they made together were filthy to his ears, too wet and sloppy and eager. He worked hard to ignore Ra’s ceaseless rambling from above him, endless words of encouragement that made Tim’s cheeks burn with shame and fury alike.
“Yes, Timothy. Don’t you see? This is where you belong. On your knees before me, serving me—”
Tim was startled when the hand on his head increased its pressure. He was shoved down onto Ra’s cock, felt it at the back of his throat as Ra’s continued to buck up into him. Tim choked around the intrusion and shoved half blindly at Ra’s hip to make it stop.
Ra’s shushed him. “Don’t fight it. You’re stronger than this.”
Tim’s eyes watered and his throat convulsed as he worked to relax his throat and control his panicked breathing.
It seemed to take forever, but his body eventually adjusted.
Ra's pumped his hips forward shallowly. “I’m so—”
Tim was released with a gasp, falling backward onto his elbows, spit trailing from his lips. Ra’s took himself in hand and jerked energetically. Tim turned his cheek away at the last second, catching the trail of Ra’s seed against his cheek and neck.
Tim’s hand rose to wipe the mess away but was caught fast in Ra’s’ grip. “If you want to know what happened to Jason you’ll leave it where it is.”
Tim glared and retracted his hand.
“Good boy,” Ra’s purred.
“Tell me,” Tim’s voice was raspy.
Ra’s slipped himself back into his pants, leaving Tim in favor of searching out his forgotten wine glass. “I sent out men to follow Talia’s trail after I discovered her betrayal. The first pictures came back this morning.”
He flicked through a stack on a table and tossed one carelessly down to him. Tim snatched it up with greedy fingers, unable to believe his eyes.
“He’s alive,” Tim couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Ra’s didn’t fail to notice it.
“By all means,” he replied. “keep the photo. Soon, it’ll be the only thing that you’ll have left to remember him by.”
“Oh,” Ra’s continued. “I know it wasn’t part of our deal, but stay for a bit. Take a glass of wine, eat your fill, or just put your feet up. There’s no reason why we have to keep this strictly business.”
Tim pushed himself off the floor, folding the picture of Jason up into a neat little square. He moved to the buffet table and picked up a cloth napkin.“I think I’ll head back to my cell if it’s all the same to you. After all, I’m still your prisoner.”
He wiped his face clean and dropped the soiled napkin on the end of the table.
“You can’t be serious,” Ra’s said as Tim turned and walked back towards the door. “I’m offering you an evening of luxury instead of a night in a cold cell.”
Tim stilled. The door held open before him with the guards standing across the threshold. He half-turned. “I know and I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it.”
Ra’s men looked over Tim’s shoulder at where Ra’s stood behind him, waiting for him to give them their orders. Tim waited too, ready to be escorted back down the numerous floors to a dark lonely room. His wish never came. Instead, Ra’s called out, “Escort him to one of the guest rooms. The door can stay unlocked.”
Now Tim did turn, confusion written plainly on his face, but Ra’s’ face was as unreadable as ever. Before he could ask any of the millions of questions running havoc inside his brain the guards shuffled him out the door.
All he could think as he was left alone in front of a guest room whose door was free of any locks was, What the hell is he playing at now?
Once again he was alone and in the dark. Perhaps this was a prison cell of another kind entirely, and Tim was beginning to think that all the lockpicks in the world wouldn’t get him out of this one.
“I dreamt of love with no war. No crime in the mouth or on the hands. What a lifetime with you meant when death was not whining at the foot of the bed or scratching at the door” — “ The Yard We Watered ”, Caitlyn Siehl.
“Ra’s,” Tim warned, taking a cautious step forward around Jason’s side. He moved his eyes from Ra’s to Dick. His brother tried to meet his stare with a calming expressing, but jerked his head back with a hiss as the pressure on his neck increased.
“Bastard,” he ground out through his teeth as his neck spasmed against the sharp edge of the blade.
Ra’s paid Dick no mind, his eyes still locked on Tim.
Tim stopped where he was, hands spread at his sides, suddenly feeling like he needed them to balance himself as everything around him took a sharp turn into hell.
“I warned you that I’m a man of my word, Timothy.” Ra’s said.
They knew that they might die tonight, he reminded himself but that didn’t make him any more willing to stand by and watch this happen. He had to try. He had to do something.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Tim,” Jason hissed, arms still raised, his gun locked on Ra’s. Tim knew without looking over his shoulder that Jason didn’t have a clear shot. Shooting through Dick to hit Ra’s wouldn’t even been a guarantee with the thick body armour of Dick’s suit. If it couldn’t pass through Dick’s suit, Jason would have put a bullet in Dick for nothing.
“No,” Tim didn’t look at him, just extended a hand behind him. A silent request for patience. Everyone just needed to stay calm. Otherwise this would spiral into a bloodbath very quickly.
“What do you think you’re going to gain from this?”
Tim eyed Bruce out of the corner of his eye. He was sure Batman had a plan up his sleeve. That just left Tim with the question of why the hell wasn’t he doing anything?
“I believe I’m going to dispose of those who’d keep you from me. Once and for all.”
“And guarantee that I’ll despise you for the rest of my life.” said Tim.
Ra’s sighed. “Why do you feel the need to have this conversation over and over again, Detective? The answers won’t change. I find it so tiresome.”
Tim’s lips twitched upwards with the hint of a smile. “Honestly, me too. But it did give him a few more seconds.”
Tim pointed at the ground where Bruce was stretched out.
Ra’s jerked his gaze down right as Bruce fired his taser gun, the electrodes shooting out and puncturing Ra’s in his side.
Tim lunged forward and nearly slammed into the pair. He wrapped his fingers around the blade of Ra’s’ sword and pulled it towards him. It was painful— and a stupidly easy way to injure his hands, as Ra’s’ blade cut through the thin leather on the inside of his gloves, but it was the only way he could see to protect Dick’s neck from being sliced open as Ra’s’ muscles seized under the electric currents.
Dick was already moving, shoving at Ra’s’ elbow from his side, even as Ra’s started to collapse onto one knee, Dick buckling with him. Tim stabbed his teeth deep into his bottom lip and planted his boot against Ra’s’ side, using it as leverage to yank harder on the blade. Ra’s’ hold loosened all at once, and sent Dick and Tim crashing to the floor.
Tim landed hard on his back. He hissed, hands cradled against his chest as he examined his bleeding palms. They would definitely need stitches. He could feel the blood as it made a squiggling trail down and around his wrists under the material of his gloves.
Above him, Ra’s dropped his sword, only to yank out the taser electrodes with a strangled cry. Tim stared up at him, trying to remind himself that this man was human, but it was hard to remember a fact like that when a taser to the chest barely seemed to affect him. Did he even feel anything? Ra’s took a moment to breathe hard, still hunched on one knee, before he regained his composure. His hand reached for his weapon again.
Jason fired two shots at the ground by the sword, but it didn’t seem to discourage Ra’s. He picked it up by the hilt and pushed to his feet, twisting the wrist of his sword hand like he was regaining feeling in it.
“On your feet. Now!” Jason barked at his family, taking two quick steps forward and angling in front of them.
Bruce had moved behind Dick and was hauling him to his feet.
More gunshots echoed off the walls of the room. Tim pushed himself off the ground. His palms left bloody half moons on the floor when he lifted them.
The distinct snap sound as the magazine of Jason’s gun emptied itself of its last bullet, followed quickly by Jason’s strained, “fuck”.
Tim didn’t even need to look. He threw himself sideways, coming to a skidding stop between Jason and Ra’s. Ra’s reined back, his sword poised to strike at the ready.
Tim, breathing hard, reached behind him and twisted his fingers around one of the straps of Jason’s thigh holsters where it clipped to his utility belt. Jason tried to shift around Tim, to fight beside him, but Tim gave his strap a harsh tug. The rough material rubbed the gashes in his hands and Tim couldn’t help the aggressive hiss that erupted from his mouth.
Jason paused in his movements, then stepped back behind Tim’s shorter form.
Tim grinned at Ra’s despite the pain and fatigue he was feeling. “You wouldn’t put a sword through me. Would you, Beloved?”
“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you,” said Ra’s, “After all, I have a Lazarus Pit just a few floor below us. If you get in the way and get killed for it, I could always bring you back.”
“I used up my get out of jail free card bringing Jason back, remember?”
“You think I don’t have an assassin willing to give away theirs to bring you back? I could have it done easily.”
Tim knew he wasn’t exaggerating, but he wasn’t deterred. “You won’t. Put me in the Lazarus Pit and I might not come back the same. You wouldn’t take that risk.”
Ra’s eyed him. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”
Ra’s stooped and placed his sword on the ground in front of him. Before Tim could wonder what he was playing at, Ra’s was already moving quick as a snake.
He grabbed Tim’s bo staff off the ground where Tim had abandoned it and swung it up and across his body. The effect was like taking a golf iron to the face. It caught Tim against his jaw and sent him crashing sideways into the wall.
Tim hit the ground hard on his side and coughed blood onto the stone floor. He tried to rise to his feet but only made it as far as his knees before his head spun and ached something horrible.
He heard more than saw what happened next in between his own wheezing breaths.
Jason’s aborted cry as he tried to come to his aid, only to be met halfway by Ra’s. The pummeling fight that erupted between them that sent computers and keyboards crashing to the stone floor. A single Q key bounced across the floor and came to a spinning stop in between Tim’s splayed hands. Tim dripped blood onto the piece of plastic as he knelt there blinking at it.
There were more sounds of shattering glass. Tim guessed it was the rest of the door being kicked in.
The scuffle of black clad feet moving in and out of Tim’s line of vision as Dick and Bruce turned to take on their new opponents. Someone in his family must have been standing guard over him, because no hands descended on Tim to drag him out of the room and lock him in a cell.
He wasn’t stupid though. He knew that this reprieve wouldn’t last long. His family was counting on him to be able to get back on his feet and defend himself.So Tim breathed hard against the throbbing pain in his head and pushed himself onto his feet. He stumbled backwards until he could brace himself against the desk at his back.
In front of him, his family were alternating attacks against Ra’s, each doing their best to fill the space made when the other was thrown to the side. The ninjas however, were an unwelcome distraction and therefore, it was Jason who took the brunt of Ra’s’ force, backed up against a wall, trading brutal blows to the face and gut. There was a thick trail of blood sliding down Jason’s upper lip from his broken nose. It mixed with his saliva so that when Jason snarled and jabbed at Ra’s’ eyes with his gloved fingers, he showed him his bloody smile.
Ra’s threw off his hands and grabbed Jason by the hair.
“He may have chosen you,” He yanked Jason’s head back at a harsh angle and spat the words against his cheek, “but I’ll be damned if he’ll keep you!”
Ra’s slammed Jason’s head into a computer screen. Once. Twice. Tim watched a crack form and widen in the dark glass, now stained with red, and then he was barreling into Ra’s from the side.
Ra’s’ hands were ripped away from Jason’s head. Jason cried out as a chunk of hair was ripped from his scalp.
Tim fell heavily on top of Ra’s’ chest and managed to pin one of his arms under his knee. He punched Ra’s in the face and was satisfied with the splatter of blood, but at this point he couldn’t tell if the blood was his own or Ra’s’.
Suddenly he was back in that alleyway where this all started, hearing Jason tell him to aim for the areas that would get the most blood. Jason didn’t try to stop him now. Tim struck again, and again, until he was whaling on Ra’s, trying his damnedest to beat Ra’s’ face into a bloody pulp.
Tim didn’t even realize Ra’s had managed to free his arm until suddenly his hands were wrapped around his throat. He had a strong grip. Tim could feel where his fingernails burrowed into his skin. In the end Bruce had to yank Tim backwards by the shoulders to pry him loose from Ra’s’ grip. His efforts earned Bruce a roundhouse kick to the face as a ninja slid into the empty space between Ra’s and Tim.
Tim rolled sideways to avoid being used as a doormat.
He found Jason with his eyes, slumped against a desk and looking like he’d just walked off the scene of a car crash. One side of his face was streaming a thick flow of blood from a nasty gash on his forehead.
“Jason.”
Jason’s head lolled towards the sound of his voice. His eyes fluttered open and closed, blood catching on his eyelashes. He was a sitting duck… lying there, stunned and waiting to be picked off.
Tim started to crawl towards him. Ra’s was moving too. A dagger in his hand.
“No,”Tim grabbed for him as Ra’s tried to rise. He caught Ra’s shirt and let his body go limp, his dead weight dragging on Ra’s’ arm. “You bastard. No.”
Ra’s shook him off with an aggressive hiss, but Tim grabbed for him again before he could fully pull away.
Ra’s turned on him so suddenly that Tim almost reared back. But there was nowhere for Tim to go. Ra’s latched onto Tim’s arm in kind and knocked him onto his back with a knee to Tim’s shoulder. His knee didn’t shift away afterwards, instead Ra’s pressed down with his full body weight, pinning Tim to the ground. In a horrific moment of clarity, Tim grasped for Ra’s’ leg all the while knowing that he’d never escape the joint lock fast enough.
With efficient and heartless speed Ra’s bent Tim’s arm back across his free leg. Over the background noises of knuckles and metal connecting with flesh, Tim heard the distinct popping sound of the tendons in his elbow tearing at the hyperextension and the sickening pain of his shoulder dislocating.
Tim screamed, his back arching off the floor.
Ra’s lowered himself over Tim’s panting form until his lips were touching Tim’s ear. Despite the intimacy of their positions, Ra’s voice was detached and cold.
“This is your last warning. Stay down.”
Tim made a keening noise low in his throat as Ra’s released his arm. He curled up on his side and pulled his arm protectively against his chest, but the pain was still a heavy throb that radiated through his upper body. Tim pressed his cheek to the stone floor, trying to focus on anything else until it dulled.
He found himself locked in a stare with Jason, visible through the empty space between Ra’s’ arm and his side. His cries must have brought Jason back to the here and now.
It brought other’s too.
Ra’s flinched backwards and collapsed on the floor a moment later. Tim didn’t understand it until he saw one of Robin’s birdarangs sticking out of his shoulder.
Ra’s howled and tried to rise up, but Damian was already standing over Tim.
“I warned you not to fuck with my family, Grandfather. This is what happens when you don’t listen.”
He kicked Ra’s in the shoulder, pushing the blade in deeper for good measure.
Damian didn’t take the time to gloat. His hands were already shoving under Tim. “Get up, Drake. We’re making a run for the plane.”
Damian pulled Tim’s arm across his shoulders and they stumbling to their feet together. Cass cleared the way for them.
“Tim.” Jason and Steph had caught up with them in the hallway. Steph kept a firm hold on Jason before he went careening into Tim and Damian.
Jason reached out and pulled Tim closer to him with a hand against the side of his face, hissing in pain as they knocked foreheads with each other. Still, Tim nuzzled Jason’s cheek with his nose. It was hard to be gentle when they were both so injured.
“I’m alright. We’re alright.” he breathed against Jason’s cheek.
“Now’s really not the time, guys!” Steph glanced behind her at the rear of their little pack where Dick and Bruce were holding off their opponents. She managed to pull Jason back a few steps.
“You can spoon each other on the flight home,” she panted under the weight of Jason’s larger form as she got them moving again. “And then maybe one of you can spoon me. This constant almost dying trend we got going on is really not helping my anxiety problems.”
Tim could feel the huff of Damian’s breath against his neck as he pulled Tim along behind the pair. He couldn’t tell if it was from laughter or exertion. “Yeah, sure. We all get out of thing alive and I’ll even let you be the little spoon. Just keep moving.”
Summary: They’d shoved their trust issues and private wounds into that hazy ‘after’ area to deal with later, and Tim believed that for the most part they never really expected to arrive there. But they were there now and Tim floundered in the face of how to address those issues. Just because it’s over, Tim reminds himself, doesn’t mean everything suddenly goes back to normal.
Chapter Notes: Loose Position: A position vulnerable to opponent attacks because it is overextended or its pieces are uncoordinated.
“You said love is a synonym for damage. I said our bodies are a synonym for light. You told me, this isn’t sex. And I said I know, it’s whatever’s left.” — Missed Connections with Lonely Boys, Meggie Royer.
The plane shook with the rumble of thunder in the night sky and Tim awoke in his bed with his shirt clinging to his back and an icy chill covering him from head to toe like a blanket. Tim blinked out his bedroom window, orienting himself to his true surroundings— not caught in a storm running from Ra’s al Ghul and his men once again, but home. Safe. Or as safe as couldn't be expected.
The horrible flight home through stormy dark skies was days behind them now, but Tim still felt it like it was only yesterday. He was never really aware of much that happened that night after his fight with Ra’s to be honest, just the fiery pain in his dislocated shoulder. What he remembered was fractured sensations, unbound by time. Jason’s warm unmoving arms bracketing him. Damian’s knife sliding against his skin as he cut off away the fabric of Tim’s gloves to expose his injured hands. Cass’s insistent voice in his ear urging them not to fall asleep. Not yet.
Tim shifted out of his damp bed and traded his sweat-soaked shirt for a dry one. He glanced back at the mess of his covers before stepping out into the hall, deciding it’d be easier to find another place to sleep than to remake his bed in the middle of the night.
The library was quiet, except for the low whistle of wind from the cracked corner panes of the old windows. Tim’s skin broke out in gooseflesh at the abrupt change in temperature. A low fire burned in the fireplace though, so the cold wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Tim dragged the leather couch closer to it to bring him some warmth.
He was pulling the blanket down off the back of the couch when he felt a change in the air behind him. Tim twisted and found himself standing there with his hand clenched tight around the person’s neck before he could even register what he was doing. When he did, however, Tim became aware of his own constricted breathing and Jason standing in front of him.
“Nightmare?” Jason asked even though Tim’s grip of his neck was tight enough to make the word a croak.
He didn't try to break Tim’s grip. Nor did he look frightened, seemingly confident in the knowledge that Tim wouldn’t hurt him. Tim just wished he would remember that he had hurt Jason, in more ways than one.
Jason touched his fingers lightly to the bones of Tim’s wrists.
“There was a storm… the plane crashed.”
Tim relaxed his grip into Jason’s warm fingers, remembering how Jason had done this once before in the car in Tibet. The way it took Jason ages before his fingers even touched Tim’s skin. So long that his anger and fear had time to cool, and eventually disappear, and he almost wanted to reach out for Jason himself. If only to feel him.
“ I didn’t expect to wake up,” he continued, “but when I did, everyone was gone. Everyone except him.”
Tim let his hand drop away all at once and went back to what he was doing.
Jason slid his hands around Tim’s back and pulled him against his chest. The blanket fell abandoned onto the couch cushions.
“Why didn’t you come to my room?”
Tim pressed his forehead hard against Jason’s breastbone and stared at the floor, trying to find the space to breathe freely.
He couldn’t.
Even standing safe in Jason’s arms he still felt like everything was too close for comfort, closing in on all sides to choke him. “I don’t know… we never really talked about ground rules for once it was all over and done with.”
Before and After.
Tim felt the sharp line of that divide— where certain events and feelings in his life started and others stopped.
Before the mission.
Before Ra’s.
After Jason told him that he loved him.
Before Jason’s death.
After Tim had lost his mind more than just a little bit.
They’d shoved their trust issues and private wounds into that hazy ‘after’ area to deal with later, and Tim believed that for the most part they never really expected to arrive there. But they were there now and Tim floundered in the face of how to address those issues.
“A part of me wasn’t sure if you’d want me to seek you out in the middle of the night,” he continued, “it felt like I was using you— to crawl into your bed after every bad nightmare without you doing the same. Another part of me wasn’t sure that I wanted to let that side of me win.”
“Win?” Asked Jason.
“The part of me that’s constantly screaming for me to kiss all of those bruises I’ve given you and make them better. That weak side of me that reminds me that it would be so much easier to say ‘I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again’ knowing that you love me enough to convince yourself that it's true—that you won't press the issue because you got me in the end so what does it matter anyway, right? And we’ll go on with our lives… sleep together, live together, fight together and all the time we’ll each be wondering: Did he really mean it or was that just another lie?”
How do we go about making amends for such horrible betrayals?
Tim wanted to ask Jason that same question he’d asked before Jason had walked out on him. Do you really hate me so much for what I did? But he knew the answer would still be the same. Just like his own feelings on Jason’s actions hadn't changed.
Jason uttered a noise filled with fatigue and despair. “Yeah… I understand that feeling all too well. I don't want to hate you, Tim. I can’t and yet I do and it's fucking torture to want you and not want you all at the same time.”
Tim pressed his laughter into the newly damp fabric of Jason’s shirt and held him tighter.
“Torture. Yeah, that’s what this is.”
He pressed his cheek against Jason’s chest. “What are we going to do, Jason?”
Jason slid the collar of Tim’s shirt away from his shoulder and pressed a kiss to the patch of bare skin he found there. “Take it one day at a time, I guess. So for tonight? Let go back to bed. I'm fucking exhausted.”
Tim smiled and allowed Jason to tug him over to the library’s couch. Tim leaned back against Jason’s chest and pulled the blanket up over them both. The fire was warm against their backs and it provided enough light that if Tim tilted his head up, he could still catch the outline of Jason’s features in the orange glow. They didn’t talk to fill the silence. Instead, Jason tucked his chin into the crook of Tim’s neck and followed Tim into the quiet darkness of sleep.
One day at a time, it seemed, was asking too much of them and soon it was all they could do to take things one hour at a time. That sensation from before — of tiptoeing around the house and maintaining a safe distance, was gone— but what replaced it almost felt worse. All of their tiptoeing had been for naught. The facade had cracked long before they’d drawn together in their final fight against Ra’s and now they’d returned home to find the broken pieces strewn about, each trying not to cut themselves on the jagged edges.
It seemed like the only words that left their mouths were apologies, and yet all of the apologies in the world weren’t enough.
Sometimes it was Tim who set Jason off and sometimes their roles reversed, but most of the time it presented itself in a horrible chain reaction of anger and injury that surged from one boy to the other. Like when Jason found the information that Tim and Damian had continued to compile on Gotham’s mercenaries for hire. Tim thought it had been bad when it was a private fight between the two of them, but then Jason had played dirty by bringing the information to Bruce— something that Tim hadn’t expected him to do in a million years. From there it had exploded into a civil war— their family breaking into factions. Damian and Cass— perhaps because on their own upbringings by mercenary families— backed Tim, agreeing that he had the right to do what he had to if it made him feel safe. While the rest of the family backed Jason’s mistrust of Gotham’s mercenaries and the likelihood that they could very well turn around and sell Tim to Ra’s if given a better offer. The ironic nature of Jason’s argument was not lost on Tim and he made sure to tell Jason exactly where he could shove his opinions on the subject.
Tim shoved upright in bed and doubled over trying to remind his lungs how to breathe. His fingers clutched tightly into the fabric of his t-shirt where it rested over his chest. Tears blurred his eyes and dripped onto his bedcovers.
He stared down at the dark blue fabric, seeing it but not seeing it.
The horrific images flashed before his eyes still— in time with the bruising thump of his heart against the walls of his chest.
Tim heaved a breath. Jason spewed blood and something more onto his arms as Tim clutched him tightly against his chest.
He breathed out and pulled Jason’s drenched form out of Nyssa’s lazarus pit, knowing all the while that this wasn’t right. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.
Another breath and Jason’s lifeless eyes stared up at him, the water running down the cold skin of his face like tears for the life he didn’t get back. A small dark voice in the back of Tim’s head whispered to him that it was okay, this was what Jason had wanted, after all.
Tim muffled his sobs with a first pressed against his mouth and curled inwards. “It isn’t real. It didn’t happen.”
He didn’t care if Jason hated him at the moment, or if they were currently having a fight. He knew he wouldn’t be able to calm himself down until he set his eyes on Jason breathing peacefully in his bed.
He tumbled out of his sheets and padded down the hall to Jason’s door.
“Jason?” He tried to smooth the roughness out of his voice as he stepped into the dark room.
Tim stared at Jason’s vacant bed for a moment, looking around like Jason was just out of sight, hiding by the window. He closed the door and walked to the library where they had spent the night together just a few days ago. The couch was back in it’s original place, the blanket folded neatly over its back.
Tim sucked in a shaky breath and sped up his pace until he was running down the hallways of the manor, slapping on lights and throwing open doors.
Tim was skidding around a corner in the kitchen, heading for the cave stairs when he caught sight of the garden lights on out of the corner of his eye. Motion sensored, he remembered all at once.
Tim threw open the french doors and stood gasping in the frosty midnight cold.
Jason turned around to face him and took a drag from the cigarette he held to his lips with a quavering hand. The tear tracks on his cheeks glistened under the outdoor lightning.
Tim threw himself against him and Jason rocked back on his heels with the blow, his arms coming up to wrap around him almost as an afterthought.
“You died,” The words came out as a wet sob against Jason’s breast. “You… died.”
Bruce had warned him long ago… back when Tim was still Robin, that sometimes after a tragedy you might think you’re fine and then all at once, when you’re least expecting it, the reality will just hit you. Tim had thought it had hit him a long ago, but now he realized this was the moment.
Jason pressed an equally wet kiss to the side of Tim’s forehead. “I know I did, honey.”
Tim felt Jason shake his head— a dark memory being shoved back to a far corner of Jason’s head, waiting for the time when it could push forward again behind his closed eyes. Except, it didn’t quite work. Halfway through the motion a choked breath slipped past Jason’s lips and before either of them knew it, Jason was turning away from him, his hands pressed hard against his wet eyes.
“I’d forgotten what it felt like… all alone in that cold darkness…” Jason turned back on him suddenly, full of undirected anger. “Fuck, Tim. Look at us! How are we supposed to be together and handle each other’s messes when we can’t even handle our own?”
Tim gave a disparaging laugh and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I honestly have no idea. It’s almost impossible for me to think outside of my own problems right now.... I’m sorry if that sounds cruel or selfish, or whatever…”
Jason wiped the wetness from his cheeks. “Don’t worry about it. I think we’ve earned the right to be a little selfish now and then.”
Tim stared at Jason in all his worn down glory, teary-eyed and shivering in the frosty dark. And he loved him, he couldn’t deny that. It felt like they were floating together through space, with no sounds except their breaths loud in their own ears, frosting the air in front of their faces.
All at once Tim shifted forward and wrapped his fingers around the back of Jason’s neck, pulling him down into a desperate kiss. Jason’s hands threaded tight into Tim’s hair and held the kiss until they were forced to pull back gasping.
Tim focused on Jason’s eyes, their lips still a breath apart from each other. “Tonight, if you want to, I’d like to try not to be selfish. I’d like to show you how much I love you.”
Jason captured his lips in another kiss and breathed him in; the tears, the sweat, the scent of his shampoo. Tim couldn’t fathom what he liked about him in that moment, but Jason smiled.
“You sure?”
The most Tim could manage was a shaky nod, though Jason wasn’t looking so strong and stable himself at the moment. “C'mon. It's cold out here.”
Warning: language, mind control, and dubious consent.
Pairing: Jason Todd/Tim Drake, Tim Drake/Ra’s al Ghul, Jason Todd/Tim Drake/Ra’s al Ghul (implied).
Summary: For her love of Bruce, Talia took a risk when restoring Jason to his former self by secretly submerging him in the lazarus pit that her father currently occupied. With her help, Jason Todd escapes the House of Al Ghul with his mind and body restored to health but no one could have foreseen the rippling consequences that such an action would have. Now years later, Ra’s discovers the tether that connects his mind and body with Jason’s and uses it to his own advantages to gain power over his would-be successor, Tim Drake.
They’re stretched out on the bed reuniting after one of Jason’s long international missions with the Outsiders when it happens, and Tim thinks, not for the first time, that it’s almost like he knew they were together.
Like they’d stirred the beast.
Tim bent over Jason and worked his teeth down the long tanned expanse of his neck; arched back and offering up the unkempt territory of his five o’clock shadow for defilement. Jason gasped, squirmed, and twisted his fingers into the corners of the pillow case under his head. Tim took in the sight from his position straddling Jason’s sharp hip bones as he pulled his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor.
Jason yanked Tim down by the back of his neck and pulled him flush against him so they were laid out chest to chest; feeling the heat coming off each other’s bodies and the skimming tickle of hair and raised scars against nipples as their chests moved in synchronization with each shared breath.
“I’ve missed you,” Jason murmured against Tim’s lips, barely sparing enough breath and distance to get the words past his kisses.
“Really?” Tim smiled. “Show me how much.”
He found himself on his back with Jason’s strong form pressing his legs up into his chest. There was barely enough time to hook his ankles together around Jason’s back before he entered him.
No time to adjust— No pretense of foreplay— Just Jason thrusting once, twice, three times with such uncontrolled power that Tim threw out a hand against the headboard to brace himself. He could feel the spot where Jason’s hips snapped like a switch against him, already feeling the ache in his backside— his thoughts on bruises and the soreness he’d feel a few hours from now.
There was a thrill in the urgency of it, but no physical pleasure. Jason could be rough at times but never without a care, no, in fact he was almost proud of the way he could toe the line between pain and pleasure.
“Say my name.”
“Jason—” Tim gasped between the thrusts that felt as if they were punching the breath from his lungs. “Wait, please—”
Jason’s hand shot out and jerked Tim’s chin around to look him in the face. His eyes flashed with a wild glint that Tim recognized and the fear that rose in him felt as if it might reach into his chest and stop his heart in its inhuman grasp. “Say my name.”
Tim’s hand struck out and slapped Jason hard across the face, whipping his head to the side. He lay there on the bed, panic stricken, as he watched Jason turn back to face him.
Jason chuckled down at him, stilled for a moment with a look of alarm, and then dropped face first into the mattress. Tim couldn’t breathe again as Jason’s full weight fell on top of him — like a marionette with its strings cut— his face wedging into the crook of Tim’s neck. Tim starred at the ceiling above his head, feeling Jason go soft inside him.
Finally he found air to breathe and gave a sigh of relief.
Jason’s breath fanned hot against Tim’s neck at he released a shuddering exhale before unceremoniously pulling out and rolling off Tim to face towards the far wall. Tim laid still for moment before pulling the covers up over his naked body.
His throat worked laboriously before he could finally swallow enough to get the words out. “Are you okay?”
Jason laughed, full of dark humor. “Peachy. You know, except for the part where I keep getting telepathically cockblocked by Ra’s al Ghul who wants to hijack my body so he can use it to hate fuck you into the next century.”
Laughter bubbled up out of Tim all at once and he slapped a hand over his mouth before it had a chance to become hysterical. He blinked the wetness out of his eyes until the ceiling stopped swimming above him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I—”
“Did I hurt you?” Jason cut across him.
Tim paused, and slowly let his hands drop back down to his sides. “Don’t you mean, did he hurt me?”
“No,” said Jason. “He might have control of my body, but I’m still there. I might be shoved to the back of my mind but I see what he does to you with my hands, my dick, my teeth...”
Jason scrubbed roughly at his face.
“You fought back against him and broke free quickly this time.”
“Did I hurt you, Tim?” Jason’s voice was more forceful this time. Tim knew better than to avoid answering him.
“They’re just bruises, Jason. They’re heal.”
Jason sat up in bed, pulled his knees up to his chest and let his hands lingering shakily over his temples. He breathed hard with a panicked gasp and screwed his eyes tightly shut. “I can feel him… lurking around in the back of my head, just out of my mental awareness.”
Tim shifted over on the bed and rubbed soothing patterns in one of Jason’s shoulders. “I can reach out to Zatanna again—”
Jason shook his hand off violently. “We’ve tried all of her spells and potions and charms—”
He ripped off the most recent of them, a bracelet written in a language Tim couldn’t begin to fathom, and chucked it across the room where it struck the wall and dropped like a rock.
“ — none of them work because this isn’t a demonic possession or martian telepathy. It’s the lazarus pit— the water that restitched my organs, knitted my skin back over the wounds, and filled the blood in my veins did the same to him that night. We’re linked in a way that no other two on earth are linked. It’s in the blood. I doubt Zatanna knows any more about it than Ra’s and I do.”
“Jason… tell me what I can do.”
Jason threw his feet over the end of the bed and picked up his discarded shirt. He pulled it back over his head and sat silently for a moment, just staring out the bedroom window.
“I think you should spend the night at the manor.”
“What?”
Jason half-turned towards him, his rough face in profile. “It’s not safe for you here. If he got past me once… there’s no telling if he’ll try again and push harder this time.”
It was hard to argue with that logic so Tim made his way around the room and pulled his clothing back on, article by article. He stopped in front of Jason and retrieved his abandoned shirt off the floor between his spread feet. It wrinkled in his hands, his fingers clenching and unclenching it as he stood there, glued to the spot, trying to think of words to say to change the outcome of this night. He couldn’t believe that Jason had been away from him for so long and even when he was back, Tim still wasn’t allowed to be with him but instead found himself kicked out of his own apartment.
And for his safety.
That was the worst part of it all… Jason was supposed to be safe and yet he wasn’t… couldn’t be, because it wasn’t just Jason that Tim slept with. It was Ra’s too.
Tim pulled on his shirt and finally his shoes, and together he and Jason made their disgraceful retreat towards the door, both too ashamed to meet each other’s eyes with the reality of the situation staring back at them.
Tim left the apartment by the stairs, but he didn’t go to the manor like Jason had suggested. Instead, Tim headed across town to the Hotel Belle Monico.
He was sick of this situation… sick to death of Jason’s wary touches, the enforced distances, the guilty looks that Jason threw at him. Tim did not like having a boyfriend he had to share with another anymore that Jason did. The way Tim figured it… if Ra’s was going to fuck him, Tim would much rather know when it was happening and do it on his own terms. And as messed up as it all might seem, just maybe sleeping with Ra’s would satisfy the older man enough to stop him from using the tether to take over Jason’s body. Maybe, Tim could have Jason back.
Tim was led up to the room the second he walked through the hotel doors. The penthouse door opened and Ra’s leaned casually against its frame.
“Hello again, Ra’s.”
Ra’s smiled a slow and satisfying smile. “I was wondering when you’d finally show up.”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in for a drink?”
Ra’s opened the door wider for Tim to step through and in a silent apartment across town for one night, in as long as Jason could remember, he couldn’t feel Ra’s al Ghul pressed at the back of his mind. For a night, he was free.
Summary: They go to face Ra’s together: as a family.
Chapter Notes: Checkmate: Threatening the capture of the enemy king such that it cannot escape. This wins the game for the attacking side.
“When you turn to leave, he will use your name like a choke chain.” — “ Lessons On Loving a Prophet ”, Jeanann Verlee
The whirl of the snow dropped away as Cass pulled the stone door shut behind them and with it so did the whistling whine of wind against Tim’s ears. Tim almost would have preferred the noise… anything to distract him from the fears he was barely holding at bay in the corner of his mind.
The hallway they’d entered into was deserted as they expected, having seen no visuals from the tech on the Batwing. By the time they reached the lower levels, though, they’d expected to have found a ninja or two, but the hallway ahead of them was empty. As were the ones after it.
Batman, who’d been leading the group around one corner and then the next, finally stopped and spoke quietly to them over his shoulder. “Ra’s has pulled all of his men back to the central chamber as we feared.”
“When we attack, we’ll have to be ready to give it our all.” said Dick, “We’ll be going up against his entire army… or close to that at any rate.”
“There’s still time to call Alfred back and blow up the chamber with the big guns on the Batwing,” said Jason.
“No,” Bruce grunted. “It’ll be too hard to guarantee that we hit the right target.”
Jason exhaled a long breath. “Alright then, I guess we’re all planning on dying the hard and painful way.”
Tim skimmed his knuckles across the back of Jason’s hand. Jason glanced down at their hands hanging next to each other and then pulled his gaze back up to Tim’s eyes.
Tim tried for a smile.
It was hard when the knots in his stomach left him feeling nothing but queasy with unease. “Not planning on dying on me so soon are you?”
Jason refused to make eye contact, instead he look out over the top of Tim’s head. “Not planning on it, particularly, but if I did… What then?”
Tim swallowed thickly. It took everything in him to say the next words, but he said them anyway because he meant them this time. He’d learned his lesson and he didn’t plan on making the same mistake twice. “Then I’ll keep my promise to you this time.”
Jason’s eyes returned to him in a flash. The intense expression on Jason’s face fixed Tim to the spot. He was aware of the fact that he’d also drawn the eyes of his family members, though they said nothing to draw attention to themselves.
Tim squeezed Jason’s fingers tightly. “But don’t expect me to let you go gently into the sweet goodnight, or any of that bullshit.”
Jason gave a faint smirk. “Death would have to drag me kicking and screaming to get me to part from you.”
Tim smiled but his mood didn't lift. He longed for the time when every choice he made didn’t feel like an even bigger mistake than the one before it. It seemed like years ago when he could make a decision and know the outcome for certain… and know that it wouldn’t end in some kind of catch-22 situation.
Bruce coughed into his fist. “We should keep moving.”
They continued on.
When they rounded a torchlit corner and stumbled into the first guard they were all more than a little startled. Cass came from the side with a throat punch that never connected. The ninja sidestepped and caught her arm . He shoved her back towards the group.
The ninja didn’t follow the move with an attack. They stood warily together, hands hovering over a variety of weapons, nobody moving except to exchange confused glances.
“The Demon’s head wishes to speak with the one he calls ‘Detective’.”
Bruce stepped forward. “Tell Ra’s that I— ”
“He doesn’t mean you.”
Ouch. Tim understood the meaning of the guard’s words and he knew that Ra’s meant to insult Bruce with it. Tim wondered quietly to himself what had caused Bruce to fall from the pedestal that Ra’s had once placed him on.
Tim’s hand moved from his bo staff to Bruce’s arm. Bruce turned to look at him.
“I can do this.”
There was a long pause before Bruce stepped back and to the side. Tim took his mentor’s place.
He raised his head to address the man standing before him.
“If Ra’s wishes to speak to me he’ll do it in the company of my family or not at all. It’s your choice. Risk angering your master if you’re feeling brave.”
The ninja didn’t hesitate before stepping to the side and extending his hand towards the set of closed double doors he’d once stood in front of. At least Tim knew he still held some lingering power around here… at least while he was still considered the Demon Head’s chosen one. Or play thing. Tim tried hard not to think about that.
Tim pulled open the double doors and forced his feet to keep moving and carry him towards the chair where Ra’s lounged like a king before his court. Tim’s muscles tensed at the sight of so many ninjas standing in formation on two sides of the room. He walked between the two columns of men, his family following a step behind him, stopping a few feet from Ra’s.
Ra’s smiled at the sight of them. “What’s this, Detective? Did you bring your whole family for an official goodbye?”
“I won’t be going anywhere with you, Ra’s.”
Ra’s’ smile widened. “Oh, Timothy, Timothy. That’s not how this game works, remember?”
"I'm putting a stop to this, Ra's," stated Bruce. “Tim has made his choice very clear and you’re either going to respect that or we’re going to make you in whatever way necessary. Either way, this ends tonight.”
Ra's laughed and sat forward in his chair. "Oh, now you're putting a stop to it? You? Who sold him to me in the first place."
"That was a stratagem. Tim understood that the part he played was necessary— "
"You sold him. Tossed him to the wolves with such carelessness. Do not come here making demands of me now that you've realized the precious asset you stand to lose."
"Asset?" scoffed Dick. "He doesn't want a fucking asset. He wants his son back, you bastard."
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Ra’s. “You see, Batman, you gave me a taste of the forbidden fruit. You can’t blame me for developing an appetite.”
Nausea rose violently in Tim’s throat and he stepped backwards so fast that his shoulder blade came up hard against Jason's chest. Jason reached out and steadied him with a hand on his arm. At Ra's words however, Jason didn't release his hold. Instead his grip tightened, fingers pressing into the bend of Tim's elbow hard enough that Tim swore Jason could feel his fear thumping through the veins that rested under his fingertips.
“You do realize,” said Damian, “That when you say creepy shit like that, other people can hear you. Right?”
“Damian,” Dick hissed under his breath.
“What?” Damian snapped. “We were all thinking it. How else is he going to learn if nobody—”
Dick elbowed Damian in the ribs. “Shut. Up.”
Ra’s smiled venomously at the pair, but didn’t grace Damian’s comments with a response. When he turned his gaze back onto Tim, Ra’s’ expression seemed to ask, this is who you would choose? This band of orphans and street rats, over the man who could give you the keys to world power?
“This is the last time I’m going to make this offer, Timothy. Join with me and I’ll spare your family and friends. They can walk out of here without a scratch on them.”
Tim swallowed thickly, the muscles in his neck so tight that he could feel them jump at the movement. “And if I say no?”
Ra’s eyes narrowed. “Then I’m going to make you watch as I cut every one of them down. And that one,” he stabbed a finger at Jason, “isn’t going to die before experiencing a lot of pain.”
“I’ve died twice already.” replied Jason. “A painful death doesn’t scare me.”
“Let’s see if you still think that after I bring you back and repeat the process a few times in new and creative ways. I’m sure Timothy wouldn’t care to see that again.”
Tim squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe evenly.
“Are you remembering what it was like, Detective? How he choked on his own blood as he struggled for breath. His dead eyes staring up at you. I’ve heard that death by anthrax poison is especially gruesome towards the end. The entire thing must have been horribly… traumatic for you.”
Tim’s eyelashes were wet when he opened his eyes to stare at him. “And you wonder why I can’t love you. You’re nothing but a fucking monster.”
“I am what you make me, Detective. But, whatever you think of me, remember this, I’m a man of my word. So think wisely before giving me your answer.”
Tim looked around at his family members. Every single one of them knew the risks of being in the vigilante business. On some level you have to be willing to walk into a fight with the knowledge that you might die there. He knew that they could die here today, but it still bothered him… the thought that because of him, an entire legacy might be wiped out all at once. Yes, there would still be Barbara and Kate and Alfred, but to have all of their hard work cut off in one final blow felt like the cruelest thing of all. Could he really live with the knowledge that he was responsible for everyone’s deaths except his own… because he knew that if they lost this fight, Ra’s wouldn’t give him the opportunity to kill himself. Tim would be trapped with his decision.
Tim met Ra’s’ gaze head on. “I made myself a promise a long time ago that if I was going to lose, I would do it on my own terms.”
Tim reached over his shoulder and pulled his bo staff from his back.
“So I choose my family.”
Ra’s nodded and out of the corner of his eye, Tim could see his family members reaching for concealed weapons. Damian’s sword sung as it was freed from its scabbard and held in a two-handed grip in front of him.
Under his breath Dick was issuing quiet orders. Tim only caught a fragment of them at the end. “ — eyes on Tim and Jason at all times.”
Ra’s raised his voice as he stood from his chair. “Anyone who brings the detective to me alive will be granted the greatest gift that I can offer to anyone. A second life on this earth.”
“Oh, fuck,” Tim hissed in time with Steph. This fight was about to get a lot more intense.
Steph closed ranks on his left just as the columns of ninjas turned and charged them. For one horrible minute Tim and Jason were crushed in the center of a mass of bodies, their weapons uselessly pinned against their sides. The pair were jostled as their family members jabbed, kicked, and punched to gain some room to move to expand their small circle outwards.
Tim felt Jason’s hand grasp onto his wrist and he turned in time to see Jason angle his head before dragging him through the mass of bodies towards Dick. His older brother had his escrima sticks out and they got there just in time to watch Dick catch a ninja under the jaw with one, knocking him off his feet.
Jason charged past Dick into the space that had just been cleared and caught the next ninja that came at them with a knife in his gut. The man dropped like a rock.
Hands clutched at Tim from all sides. Tim spun with a vicious sweep of his staff that knocked all of them back, before taking on the group of three in front of him, trusting Jason to defend him from behind. It was difficult to use his staff while fighting back to back with Jason, his moves limited by the fact that the wrong one might injury Jason just as much as it injured his enemies.
Someone, Tim thought it might have been Bruce, dropped a smoke bomb to give them cover. It had the unfortunate effect of aiding the fighters on both sides. A body erupted from the smoke and barreled into Tim from his far right.
Tim was slammed backwards into Jason, lifting the other boy off his feet. The trio hit the floor, the ninja’s hands locked onto Tim’s staff, pinning Tim underneath it. Tim released his staff with one hand and punched the man across the face twice in quick succession. It stunned him long enough for Tim to get a foot planted underneath him and flip them. They rolled until Tim was straddling the man’s waist, Jason shoving at the ninja’s shoulder to free his pinned legs.
A stranger’s hand fisted in Tim’s hair and yanked him backwards. Tim dropped his staff with a scream and scrambled to free himself. The other ninja, whose chest he’d previously been straddling, started to move as Tim’s weight was lifted off him. Tim kicked at him, catching him in the shoulder and the the cheek. Jason punched the ninjas from behind, his fist landing a blow behind the man’s ear.
Tim’s fingernails were leaving blood scratches in the man’s hand as he tried to find the man’s thumb, hoping that if he broke it with a hard yank backwards, the man would release his grip on his hair. Jason beat him to it, twisting his body around on the ground to aim his gun and blasting a bullet into the ninja’s skull. Tim gasped as blood and brain matter splattered across his neck and back, but didn’t have time to freak out more than that as he was attacked from below.
Tim threw himself on top of the man who was trying to rise from under him and slammed his arm against the man’s windpipe.
“Knife!” he screamed, reaching towards Jason. Jason’s blood-slicked hand slapped something in his palm. Tim took it without looking at it and stabbed the ninja in the shoulder before twisting it.
Without even looking, Tim knew that Dick was standing behind him. He could hear every solid thack as Dick’s escrima sticks made connect with flesh and bone.
Jason rose up onto his knees and reached to help Tim up.
“Come on,” he said, breathing hard. “We have to get on our—”
Tim looked up at him.
He gasped and seized at his staff. “Jason—”
The man barely had time to lay hands on Jason before Cass was there, climbing up the man’s back in two strong strides before she could wrap her legs around the man’s neck and snap his neck with a sharp twist of her legs. She fell to the ground on top of him and shoved Jason and Tim to their feet.
She pointed to the path that Bruce, Steph, and Damian were working hard to keep clear.
“The command center.” She panted. “Go! Now!”
Before he knew it, Jason’s hand was on him again, tugging Tim fiercely towards safety. They ran full speed down a number of dark hallways, knowing that if they stopped to figure out where they were they would be set upon from behind again.
“Left! Jason go left here!” Oracle’s voice erupted loudly from their comms.
Running side by side with him, Tim caught a glimpse of Jason’s grin. “You’re a lifesaver, Babs.”
“Save that thank you until you can say it to me in person, alright? We’re still miles from the finish line.”
“Will do, Coach.”
Oracle directed them through the dark and empty corridors until they reached the locked doors of the command center. Tim pressed his face to the opaque glass and cupped his hands next to his head. Nothing stirred within the room.
Tim shifted over to the keypad and pulled a piece of his tech from one of the pockets of his bandolier.
“Still have that knife?” he asked over his shoulder.
“I think you left it in that guy’s shoulder.” replied Jason with a distracted glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was heading their way.
“Right,” Tim sighed and fished out a birdarang. He wedged the sharp edge of the blade in between the two panels and snapped it open with a hard whack of his palm. He connected the wires and let his tech do the decrypting, flashing through variations of codes before the keypad chimed and the lock on the door popped open.
“Here,” Tim tossed Jason a USB drive as they entered the room. “There should be a main driver on that far wall that stores all of the league’s information. Plug that into one of the ports and I’ll start transferring the files onto it.”
Jason went to the far wall as Tim spun a chair around and sat in it. As he decrypted the login into the league’s server, Jason called out to him, “Weren’t you only in here, like, twice? How do you know where they keep everything?”
Yeah, thought Tim. Once, at the very beginning. The second, to watch you die. Both times I wanted to be looking at anything other than what was right in front of me.
“It’s similar to how I would set up my own command center if I were running a worldwide league of assassins.”
It was actually how Tim would have remodeled the batcave’s command center if given the chance. He hoped that didn’t reveal more about him than he was ready to admit. Tim had just finished pulling the files over to the drive when an explosion sounded in the distance. He watched the progress bar as it inched forward on the screen.
Dick’s voice came shaky and out of breath on their comms.
He was running.
“Ra’s— is heading your way guys— Bruce and I are— in pursuit. Shit—”
The line was quiet for a moment before Dick’s voice returned. “Others are holding back the ninjas for as — long as they can. Whatever you’re doing, do it faster.”
Tim looked at Jason and then the progress bar. Thirty-seven percent complete.
He placed his finger against his comm unit. “There’s no way we’ll be finished in time.”
“Then barricade the fucking door!”
“Right,” Jason looked around him before pulling a filing cabinet onto its side with a bang. Tim ran to the doors and slammed them closed. He initiated the security lock code on the keypad and then ripped the entire thing out of the wall and severed the wires. Together they pushed the filing cabinet against the doors and stacked anything not bolted down on top of it.
“I just want to state that none of this would have happened if we’d just blown the place up like I suggested in the first place.” Jason wedged a desk chair against the pile.
“I’m beginning to see the logic in that.”
A sword blade punched through one of the glass doors above the handle. Tim stumbled back into Jason with a shaky, “Fuck.”
Jason dragged him away from the door.
“The files.” he said. “Are they transferred?”
Tim ran over to the monitor. “Transferred!”
Jason yanked out the drive. “Alright, trash his tech. Now!”
Tim tossed Jason the drive with his own personally designed virus. As he implemented it, he was aware of the glass exploding inwards as Batman’s body was thrown through it. Jason planted himself between the door and Tim, his guns held in both hands, firing at any movement through the doorframe.
The virus was working its magic with every line of code.
The sound of glass crunching under boots had Tim turning in concern. Why wasn’t Jason firing? Tim stepped out from behind Jason’s tall form and could only stare at the sight in front of him. Bruce half risen onto his knees on the ground, and Dick arching perilously against the insistent pressure of Ra’s’ blade to his neck.
Ra’s, with blood dripping down the side of his face from a wound at his hairline, met his eyes from across the room. With a venomous smile, he asked, “Shall I start with this one, Timothy?”
