Fill requests by @adhdavinci @whimsicalmeerkat @itswrenly @twyrewolf @zyrafowe-sny @auburnlaughter @quietlysleeping @somefishycat for my future Whumpcember day 15 — Broken Glass for JayRoyTim.
Requests were made in the amazing Wednesday Wip Game Community. Thank you so much for pushing me to write! I hope you check us out and play!
This is written in tandem with @ditzyredrobin.
Tim blinked dumbly, looking up from the blood pooling in the palm of his hand. After a long pause, Tim is able to gather enough brain juice to make sense of his surroundings in the dim glow of sodium lights. “I think I’m near the video rental,” the pain is a distant thing, blood oozing between his fingers. “The one we went to last week near Rao’s.”
There’s soft voices over the line again as Roy seemingly relays the info before he’s back, giving Tim his undivided attention. “Jay is on his way. Can you tell me how much you’re bleeding?”
“A little,” Tim supplies numbly. “I cut my hand.”
“A little by vigilante standards or civilian standards?”
Tim pauses to think, “Civilian.”
“That’s good, I’m glad.” Roy sounds pleased and it sends a little thrill down his spine. “Lucky for you, you’re not very far from the apartment. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Tim’s eyes burn, and he nods. “My feet hurt, I stepped on glass.”
“We can fix that.” Roy promises, muffling another yawn.
“I’m sorry.” It was late (early?) for a vigilante.
“Don’t be. You know we’re happy to help you anytime you need, even if it’s late.” Tim nods again even though Roy can’t see it, hugging his knees to his chest. The damp pavement was soaking in through his night pants sending goosebumps down his arms and legs.
He tries to will himself to say something along the lines of, I’m okay, no seriously I’m fine, or like seriously okay, but headlights illuminate the alleyway before he can say anything.
A beat up Honda pulls up in front of the alleyway, headlights illuminating it with more light than should be allowed. Tim squints against the light as Jay steps out of the beat up SUV. He rounds the hood, outlined by the headlights.
Roy says something but he can’t make it out, his voice a distant din, because Jay is here.
His hair is mussed with sleep with dark shadows under his eyes and a furrowed brow. One look at Tim and he’s shrugging off his leather jacket, wrapping it around his shoulders. It smells like Marlboro Reds and aftershave and it’s the first time Tim feels like he can breathe.
