Please look under the information tab for prompt rules/policies.
No. Seriously. Read them, please, it's not that hard.
© All copyrighted materials posted on this personal blog are for the sole purposes of documenting and illustrating my interests. All rights are reserved and respected to their original copyright owners. No copyright infringement of any kind is intended.
Title: Together We Fall
Pairing: Bruce/Tim, Jason/Tim
Warnings: Abuse. Dark themes. Sexual assault. Dubious consent.
A/N: It’s incredibly disjointed and choppy. But. Uh. I really don’t want to linger on it. Sorry, anon. Maybe someone else will write it better?
Anonymous asked you: I just thought of a sad and full of angst JasonTim prompt. If you want to write it, you don’t. What if Tim got in an abusive relationship with a random guy (or any guy you want) and Jason trying to save him. And Tim loves Jason too, but he afraid to leave the guy to be with Jason. (Anyone can write this if they want, If you don’t want to write it maybe you can find someone who can.)
Snippet: Tim never says yes. Jason never stops asking.
“It’s how we work.”
“It’s statutory rape.”
“It’s what I have to do.”
“For not being you.”
“How much do you weigh?” Jason narrows his eyes, tilts his head. No matter how you fucking spin this one- the kid is way too…little to be Robin.
Too thin, too young, too small, too vulnerable, too eager. Too fresh.
“It’s none of your business.”
Jason reaches out, snatching the replacement’s arm. There’s definite muscle there. Just not the healthy kind. It’s muscle and bone and the kid might as well be bones everywhere else. It’s not a healthy look. It’s not balanced.
“What’s your calorie intake?” He asks, because he has to know. The damn kid doesn’t look like he eats nearly enough for someone in his position.
“Leave me alone.”
The thing is-
“You don’t want that.”
Robin, Tim, Drake, Replacement- Tim is very still. So still he might as well be a statue. He might as well be Br- Batman.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to do, kid. But you’re playing in the big leagues, now. What are you trying to do?”
The Replacement is very quiet. “I wanted to tell you to back off.”
“Lay off Batman, he’s mine.”
With that, Jason finds himself at the receiving end of a nerve-strike and the fucker is gone.
God, fucking damn.
There’s a bruise, livid and fresh peaking out from the top of Robin’s cape.
Jason flicks his cigarette.
“Those will kill you.” Robin says from his position curled up on a rooftop, back pressed against the brick edge, hiding in the shadows. Jason glances down at him, leaning against the roof-top edge, looking over the golden glow cast onto his city. Their city. No one’s city.
(No man’s land.)
“I know something else that’ll kill you.” Jason answers, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “You want one? I can promise that this’ll keep you alive longer than-“
“Don’t call it rape.”
“You actually want this?”
Jason can’t read his eyes from behind the domino lenses, but the kid smiles. Christ.
“Pot meet kettle.” The replacement laughs, and he sounds damned happy. “He’s mine.”
“He’s hurting you.”
That earns Jason a head tilt. “So?”
“What the fuck do you mean so?”
“Batman needs Robin. I’m just giving him what he needs. I’m being useful.”
“You’re being used.”
“I’m being.” Replacement pauses. Smiles. “I’m something. I’m being something.”
“Yeah, you’re something, alright.” Jason pits his cigarette out on the concrete edge.
“You don’t understand. He gave me a name. He gave me a face. I’m seen.” The replacement stands, turning towards the city. “I’m seen. I have a name. I’m alive.”
It’s been almost a week since Robin was last seen. Jason is only mildly worried.
Mild, for Jason, that is.
He finds his replacement sitting on the safe rooftop as before.
“You know, if you really wanted me to leave you the fuck alone, you’d stop seeking me out. Cigarette?”
“Those’ll kill you.” The lump of black and red and green mumbles, knees tucked up to his chest, head bowed. Jason sighs.
“Look- kid. I hate your guts. I hate Batman’s guts. I’m pissed as hell at the both of you. That doesn’t mean that I don’t give a shit. You have to admit- what he’s doing- it’s wrong.”
Bruce wasn’t like that to Jason.
(He was a dad. Jesus, fuck- what the hell happened to you, old man?)
Pretender shakes his head. “I’m his Robin. He can do whatever he wants-“
“Would you shut the fuck up.” Jason drops into a crouch, suppressing the incredibly powerful urge to just grab Tim and run. “I can’t think around you, you know that?”
The two sit there, in silence. And the worst part is- Jason thinks Tim enjoys it.
The signal burns in the sky and Jason watches Tim stand- legs shaking like a newborn baby deer and goes- goes, willingly walks into the fucking bear-trap and waits to get killed.
Jason hates this city.
Sometimes he wishes he never came back.
Most of the time?
He just wishes it was the same Gotham to come back too.
(A Gotham where her protector, her knight- didn’t- didn’t- do that to kids. Blue eyed, black haired kids who don’t weight nearly enough and don’t know how to say no.)
It’s an on and off few years of this bullshit.
Jason doesn’t understand how the fuck no one else sees it. He has a hard time believing anyone would condone it. Not Dick- definitely not Babs. Or Alfred. Jesus christ, Alfred-
Sometimes Jason wants to ask Tim- “Were the tights added to cover the marks?” He doesn’t. Somehow it feels- it feels like it would ruin whatever fragile truce they have between them.
(Not that Jason doesn’t try to fuck him up, occasionally. He just makes sure that it’s never- afterwards. And to never- never make it seem- like that. He thinks Tim knows this. Appreciates it. Maybe that’s why Tim never tells on him.
He knows the kid knows where his base is. Damn pretender keeps leaving behind medical supplies- Well. fuck you, you need them more. Dumbass- and pamphlets on quitting smoking –fuck you side-ways, Jason will quit when you do.)
But no matter what- Jason can’t help but ask.
“Be my Robin?”
Because Tim could be. More. So much more. He could be safe. As much as Jason hates his damned guts and hates how stubborn he is- Jason hates what Bruce is doing more.
More than the fact that he hates that he was replaced- he hates that this is what happened to his successor. Sometimes he wishes he never saw it.
Tim, leaning against an alley wall. Legs trembling as he adjusts his tights. Lips split and a hand-print (a single hand-print) around his throat. His cape pooled on the ground and a line of blood sliding down his chin.
He wishes he never saw it. He wishes it never happened in the first damn place.
Jason asks because- he might not get along with Tim, they might have different view-points, different fighting styles, different backgrounds- They might have different goals, methods, preferences-
But at the very least, Jason wouldn’t treat Tim like that.
Less than human. He wouldn’t- if Tim was his partner- working with him-
Tim wouldn’t be a tool, a toy-
Robin. Like how Robin is supposed to be. Not this twisted, perverted thing that’s going on.
“Join me. Be my Robin.” Just don’t stay here. Do anything but stay with him. He’s killing you.
Tim never says yes. Jason never stops asking.
Jason doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that Bruce is dead. Worse still- he doesn’t know how to feel about Tim.
Because Tim still says no and Jason still wants him to say yes.
Even though their reason for the question and answer is gone-
Jason doesn’t know how to feel. About- about the fact that he doesn’t- he doesn’t want to just get Tim away from Batman. Bruce. It’s not just that anymore. It’s-
It’s- legitimate. Jason wants Tim at his side. He wants- he wants Tim. Jason doesn’t know how to feel about that. He doesn’t understand how it even happened. How his intentions slowly shifted from simply wanting what was right to- to wanting.
(On some level Jason is afraid. I don’t want to be like him. On that level- he’s glad that Tim says no. Jason doesn’t think he can handle Tim. At all. He doesn’t think he’s what Tim needs. He’s been trying for years to get Tim to see reason. It’s not going to change now.)
Jason is disgusted. To see Tim in Batman’s costume. One of the old ones.
He wants to scream- you can’t wear that. That’s not the man you knew. He was kinder then. You didn’t know him. How can you mourn him? Try to honor him? He hurt you! He used you!
Maybe that’s why Jason modified his suit so much.
He hates what Batman has become.
(He refused to kill those who needed to be put down, who deserved it- all because he didn’t want to cross that line. But he wasn’t afraid to cross other lines. He didn’t hesitate- did he?)
And sure as hell is going to change it.
He doesn’t know what pisses him off more.
That the pretender is using yet another one of his aliases, or that the pretender is using said alias to hunt down a dead man, a dead man who abused him.
Jason wants to shake him, tell him to let go of it. Move on. Try and- get out of his fucking shadow. You’re free.
(The worst part is that for all the shit Bruce put Tim through- Tim still loved him. And for all the things Jason would do- he’s still alone.)
(No. The worst part is that Tim was fucking right. God damn.)
“It was an accident.” Tim deadpans and Jason believes him. Believes him because-
He stands aside as Tim comes inside, blood on his hands, splattered on his face, pupils blown wide, a bruise on the side of his jaw.
“You sure as hell better not have trackers on that suit.” Jason sits Tim down on the couch, pulling out a first aid kit from a cabinet as he makes his way to the bathroom for some towels, wets them. On his way back he grabs a paper bag from the kitchen, shoving it into Tim’s wet hands. “Breathe. It was an accident.”
Tim stares at the bag before bringing it up to his face, putting it down. Jason takes Tim’s hands in his own and starts scrubbing.
No gauntlets. No cape. Just the tunic, tights, boots. No bandoliers, either. No weapons.
Tim ran here. Or used the rooftops. Jason didn’t hear an engine.
“He-” Tim sounds dazed. “I don’t. He promised me Robin. It was okay. As long as I was his Robin. Jason- Jason, he took my identity.” Tim slowly blinks. “I don’t- I don’t know who I am anymore. It was okay- as long as he acknowledged me as his- but I’m not. Jason.” Tim’s eyes are blue, blue, blue, awake- finally- when he looks into Jason’s eyes. “Jason. He took my life and he still wanted- wanted.”
What Bruce wanted goes unspoken.
Jason makes a conscious effort not to scrub harder at the blood on Tim’s hands. To not make fists or squeeze Tim’s wrists so hard they bruise.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know- what do I do? Who do I do it for? Why do I do it?” Tim’s eyes drift off towards the window. The sky. Where the signal would be.
(All of them know where too look. It’s their north star. Homing device. Their eyes are drawn to it, no matter where they are- a beacon.)
“You do what you have to do.”
(What do I do now? Dead. Dead. Replaced. Replacement. Abandoned. Forgotten. He replaced me. Revenge. Joker. Still alive. Why? Garbage. Filth. Why? Not right. Not fair.)
“I don’t- I gave him everything.”
Jason glances up from where he’s trying to focus on not crushing Tim’s hands with the force of his anger. “Then you take it the fuck back. One day at a time.”
“I don’t know where to go.” Tim admits after a few minutes of silence. “I- I shouldn’t have come here. But- You were the only one. The only one who- who knew.”
Jason’s known for years. He’s been trying to convince Tim of the same thing. Hell- he’s tried to convince Dick and Babs and- shit, even Catwoman-
No one would listen.
“Stay with me.” Jason lifts his eyes to Tim’s wide eyes. He tries- one more time. And hopes- he hopes- “Join me. Be my Robin.”
He can’t recognize his own voice. It’s soft. Gentle. Coaxing and soothing. Almost kind. Almost like I love you, so stay with me. Almost- but with a touch of let’s be broken together.
Tim’s lips part. And he exhales. Closes his eyes, chokes. Opens them again. Hysteria welling up from within.
“I- You don’t- I can’t- Batman- Jason. I think I killed him.” Tim’s voice grows smaller and smaller. “There was so much blood and some of it was mine but some of it was his too. I was so angry. And- I just wanted him to hurt like I was. Do. It was all for nothing. I didn’t- I loved him and I gave him everything because that’s what I do, and he- he didn’t hold up his end- it was a deal. It was a trade. He broke- he broke-“
Tim’s hands twitch, curl.
“He broke me.”
“I know.” How could no one else have seen it?
Tim’s hands are cold and shaking in his.
“I- I just. I wanted to make it equal.” Tim’s eyes meet his. “I wanted to make him suffer.”
“Did you make him suffer?”
Tim blinks. Jason stares back at him. Waits. Tim’s hands stop shaking. He smiles. Bright and contagious. Beautiful, surreal, and long-awaited. Jason’s.
(Be my Robin.)
His eyes are blue, blue, blue, awake, alive. Finally.