#pf2013

[myjhersey17]

cause me to flail at the office (///_///), I probably look stupid explaining who they are to my colleagues, LOL

Mai-kaaa~ that's inevitable, anyway, happy kid!

[junishinobi]

Well..Dessy sure knows how to brighten my day!! Or maybe every OORers day?!!

Thanks for translating this Dessy!! Happy New Year too to all my viva violent fellow OORers!! <3

[protagonistically]

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake Words: ~750 Rating: gen; batfam

"Bruce, my life is not worse with you in it.  I love you and my life is not worse with you in it.  It’s better.  You make my life better."

They'd only been gone eighteen hours and twenty six minutes, but on the other side - in the other world - it had been five days.

Alfred is waiting for them in the Kalahari desert with the jet, where the tiniest tear of time they could find spits them out from a completely different Bat-cave in a completely different Gotham City.  

It's been a long day, and it's not strange that Bruce doesn't say much, just straps himself into the co-pilot chair and tells Tim that he should sleep on the ride back, that he had a long, emotional day.  Like Bruce hadn't been there with him. 

He wants to talk to Bruce about what happened.  But Alfred is still right there, and it feels personal.  Like something between just them.  So Tim stays quiet and feels his eyes droop shut and he falls into a sleep with surreal dreams that feel raw and sore, and vaguely incomplete.

He's jostled awake when Bruce carries him into a car, he slurs something against the man's shoulder, but all he hears is Bruce rumble to Alfred to drive Tim home, make sure he gets home safe.

Tim is pissed off, but he's to tired to think past, 'how did Bruce avoid time-travel jetlag?'

It take another two days before Tim only feels like half a zombies and he's out of the apartment, un-showered, without brushing his teeth.  He finds a flannel shirt that looks kind of clean, and an old pair of jeans, before he shoves his feet into his old high tops that smell like death.  

There's still some sort of time-travel haze in his vision, and his reaction time is slow enough that his foot missed going into his left shoe twice, so he hails a cab and tells the driver to take him to the Wayne Enterprise building.

If he knows Bruce, and he does - he knows him better then he's known anyone - Bruce is not at home.  The man is either at work, or he's at the Watchtower.

WE is closer, so Tim tries there first.

He doesn't have his ID badge on him, but the security guard lets him through, no questions asked.

He catches the express elevator for the top floors and bi-passes Bruce's personal assistant with a wave.

Tim knocks twice on the door, waits a second before he lets himself in.

The man is at his desk, sitting behind a computer with bags under his eyes and glasses on perched on his nose.  He's in a clean, pressed suit, with a blue shirt that makes the older man's eyes look stupid-blue.

Tim doesn't pause, just walks over and around the large, wooden executive desk.  He grabs one of Bruce's hands that had paused over the keys of his laptop and pulls the man up so that it's easy for him to wrap his arms around his waist.  Easy so that he can settle his ear right over Bruce's collarbone and hold tighter then he's ever had before.

After a minute Bruce, still tense, holds him back.  Rubs one hand up and down over his spine.  From the hairs at his to the small of his back.

"Forget what you saw."  Tim says.  "My life is not worse with you in it."

Bruce's hand stills.

"Bruce, my life is not worse with you in it.  I love you and my life is not worse with you in it.  It's better.  You make my life better."

They stand like that for a few more minutes.  Tim trying to telepathically soothe Bruce.  Ease his fears, his erroneous assumptions about his role in Tim's life.   

Tim's life is better with Bruce in it.  It doesn't matter what they saw.  His life is better with Bruce Wayne.

Finally Bruce moves first, he sighs, breathes deep and pulls away.  "Tim, you-" Bruce pauses, unsure of what to say, "you kind of smell."

"I just woke up from the jetlag from hell."  Tim crosses his arms defensively and steps back.  "I don't even understand how you're working right now.  I feel like a drank a case of Benedryl."

Bruce gives him a small, fond smile, "I'm a little more used to it then you are."  He leads Tim over to the leather chesterfield by the windows a few feet from the front of Bruce's desk.  "You should take a nap.  Will get coffee when you feel a little better."

His eyes are still heavy and they're burning from trying to stay open, so he doesn't fight him and he's falling asleep with a throw tucked around his shoulders before Bruce is even back to his desk.

[protagonistically]

PF2013 - Tim, BruTim; when Bruce returns from being 'dead', he's told that Tim has become immune to Scarecrow's gas; actually he's not immune, it's just that all his fears (e.g. Bruce's death) already became real.

They keep samples of all the toxins they have regular contact with.  They’re catalogued in a refrigerated safe, carefully labeled with letters and numbers and then the chemical makeup and formula.

And after the long, numerous syllables, the skeletal structure, there’s smaller words in quotes.  A street name.

“Fear gas”.

The steel, sealed canister is cool in his hand, like the window glass on a winter night, the kind that would frost over and he’d leave messages for Steph in her bedroom window. 

With a click, the canister seals into the plastic chamber of the metered dose inhaler.  Tim raises it to his mouth, pumps once, and breathes.  

Twice.  Breathes and holds it.  He waits for the gas to scrubs his lungs, sing into his veins.

He waits.

The cave lights flicker like they usually do.  The bats all sound the same, a mixture of nervous and sad.  The computers hum as usual, no monsters or ghosts creep out of them.

He waits.

And Tim feels the same.  The same weight on his chest.  The same lingering anxiousness whenever his breath reaches a certain depth.

He feels just as sad as he did five minutes ago.

Tim quickly replaces the canister back in the safe.  He shuts and locks it with the key-code.  Everything is in it's right place, he ditches his costume in his old locker and grabs a set of soft sweat pants and an old t-shirt that he's not sure who wore it first, but it smells nice.

He wants to cry because it smells so good.  It's nostalgia and want and longing.  It's Bruce and his chest hurts with the thought.  

He thinks about his mom and dad, and Dana and Stephanie.  the people in his life whited-out and re-drawn, but differently.  Erased and blurry, but still almost visible.  

The stairs creak up to the manor.  He doesn't have the energy to find the quiet spots, even though Tim knows exactly where they are.  Memorized them when he was a thirteen-year-old nobody.

Nobody at all.

He reaches the study and the Chesterfield sofa in the room looks too convenient for him to do anything but curl up on.  So he grabs a the blanket folded up on the arm, and pulls it around his shoulders.

Nothing feels different then it usually does.  

Somewhere deep in his head, hidden in a fog of fear gas, Tim is screaming at himself, that Bruce is alive, that Kon is alive and his dad loved him and Stephanie is at home with her mom that loves her more then words.  

But all Tim can think about now, is that he just needs to rest for five minutes before he tries to figure out how he can bring Bruce back to life.

[protagonistically]

PF2013 - Tim and Boose. MY PROMPT IS BOOSE AND TIM AND RETAINERS. DO THE THING PRO. RAINBOW RETAINERS.

Just some silly non-sense for you!  I hope you like it!

Because Tim and Bruce weren’t always very close — they weren’t always father-and-son, and half the time Tim isn’t so much part of ’Batman-and-Robin’, as he is, ‘Batman; Also Robin is somewhere else kicking ass’. Tim has a system for handling the man.  And that system mostly revolves around Tim respecting Bruce’s privacy and personal space as much as he can while maintaining optimal Batman-and-Robin status quo.   And Bruce?  Bruce mostly ignores the system and opts for randomly sitting in Tim’s room while he does homework and folds his socks and Bruce once caught Tim with his hand tucked halfway into the waistband of his basketball shorts and the man still didn’t even leave.  He brought up girls and asked who Trent Reznor was. 

It was awkward.

The point is that Tim tries, okay?  He tries to keep things professional.

But on occasion, he’s required by law (also known as Alfred) to take enter Bruce’s bedroom, even his bathroom if there’s supplies in there that the older man needs, but can’t get to at the moment.

This time Alfred just asked Tim to go add extra rolls of toilet paper to all the bathrooms upstairs.  Chores are also an exception to the rule.

It’s not really Tim’s fault though, because Dick is the one that taught him how to juggle.  And, if Tim says so himself, he’s pretty good at it.  So if he’s juggling five rolls of paper-wrapped individually in thin tissue paper, it’s because Dick taught him.

And maybe Dick should have taught him better because by the time he reaches the master bath, he losing control of roll number three and it’s hitting the marble sink with a soft crinkly noise and sending a small, open case sliding off the vanity.

Sliding off the vanity into the open bowl of the toilet.

The case hits the water with a soft plunk, and very little splash as Tim stands there, mouth gaping open and the four other rolls drops to the ground around him.  

Was that -

He thinks that -

Oh, shoot.

He moves slowly, as if he were scouting an enemy, carefully until he’s peering over the rim of the porcelain bowl, like he’s staring into the wishing fountain in Robinson Park.  

There it is.  Just as Tim feared.  The plastic case had opened in it’s flight, and Tim could see a clear dental retainer, innocently resting at the bottom of the bowl.

Well, fudge.

[oor-ph-thebeginning]

Part 2:

Here are the screenshots of the PF Movie #10. Since I cannot share yet the movie itself, please enjoy looking at the screenshots.  Gomenasai for the quality. The video is somewhat pixilated when viewed in full screen.  Love y'all! \(^o^)/ (Screen cap by: ONE OK ROCK PH, THE BEGINNING) (source: https://pf.oneokrock.com/)

[oor-ph-thebeginning]

Part 1:

Here are the screenshots of the PF Movie #10. Since I cannot share yet the movie itself, please enjoy looking at the screenshots. 

Gomenasai for the quality. The video is somewhat pixilated when viewed in full screen.  Love y'all! \(^o^)/ (Screen cap by: ONE OK ROCK PH, THE BEGINNING) (source: https://pf.oneokrock.com/)

[oor-ph-thebeginning]

One OK Rock in Tsumagoi

(source: Primal Footmark 2013)