dreamsanddisasters | Last Laugh AU (for plus)

Last Laugh AU (for plus)

[ King Shark doesn't make for great company. Too much biting at the bars, not enough polite conversation. Or impolite conversation. Tim's kind of Superboy's teammate, after all.

Better the man-eater than what's going on at the other end of the hall. The crunch. The splatter. The begging. Multi-Man does nothing but beg now; starts crying the second he comes back, right up until--

Crunch.

Tim rubs a hand over his face. The cuts and bruises are healing. They ran out of food a while ago -- Tim had only a few power bars squirreled away in his belt -- but the human body can survive a long time without sustenance, and they have water. It hasn't really been all that bad. Hard to tell time in a black hole, but if his watch is right, it's been just a little over a week. ]

Please, please, god, no, stop!

[ Crack.

Enough time for the Joker and the inmates to have destroyed the world, though. And here Tim is, trapped inside the Slab, fingers crossed that this time, this time it'll be the right power-- ]

Robin!

[ He looks at King Shark, who snaps his jaws back at him.]

Nice talking with you, but we're out of here.

[ The world is still there when he gets back. That's a great sign.

Not so great: they're in Antarctica. Thankfully the Martian Manhunter's somehow there to help. He seems -- surprised, by Tim, and turns out everyone thinks Robin is dead, and Tim's stomach drops out a little at that revelation, and he almost misses the news that the Joker's been stopped and the riots are being wrapped up, with the last of the escaped inmates on the run.

They thought he was dead. Bruce thought he was dead. And Dick, and Barbara, and Alfred, and Stephanie.

(His dad, and Dana, too, with the riots and Tim gone missing for so long--)

He can't get home fast enough. J'onn gives him a lift right back to Gotham, and if Tim's gear were working he'd be able to ping them on the comms, but as it is he's taking the back entrance into the Cave and hoping somebody's there. The Martian Manhunter wasn't able to confirm Batman and Nightwing's whereabouts, and Oracle for some reason isn't at her console, and Tim's stomach is doing that weird flip-flop motion again by the time he comes jogging into the Cave: exhausted, suit ripped and torn and cape missing, and roughed up to hell and back, but whole. Alive. And calling out, worried. ]

Bruce? Dick? Alfred -- anybody here?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Life had-- changed without Tim.

Everyone had changed-- Maybe Dick had changed most of all. Something inside him snapped. Seeing the scraps of Robin's costume, no trace of him in sight; Barbara had... tried to doubt the worst possible outcome. But there was no trace of him, no sign of communication or survival or his whereabouts, and they'd been monitoring the entire world throughout the riots. If he was still around, he would've done something, someone would've spotted him. Tim was smart like that; but that didn't mean anything to the Joker.

It never did. After Jason, after Barbara and now after Tim, he wasn't going to let anyone else be a victim anymore. The psycho had been dead by the time anyone else arrived at the church. After that... there was just a sinking feeling in Nightwing's chest, when he realized what he'd done. He found it hard to look Batman in the eye; and maybe Bruce found it hard to look at him too.

He didn't look at anyone after that. He'd run back to Bludhaven with his tail between his legs, ignoring he didn't even know how many calls from Barbara and Alfred, on both civilian and family comm-lines. But at least with the Joker gone, the world could finish cleaning up and picking itself back up again.

Some part of him had to feel better about it. A part of him was-- because the Joker was unrepentant and cruel. He'd already hurt their family too many times, hurt hundreds of families too much. Now he wouldn't hurt anyone again, and a part of him enjoyed that, a part of him that thought-- that it was better this way. But nothing really felt better when he knew Tim was never coming home now, that the Drakes had lost their only son, and Bruce would probably never tell them the truth as to why.

Dick hadn't been out as Nightwing ever since; wasn't sure he quite deserved it, certainly not right now. But he'd ended up yelling at Babs when she'd come all the way to Bludhaven to talk to him-- and that didn't make him feel better either, he regretted it in minutes. He still hadn't apologized. He tried to think about work instead, because Dick Grayson was unrelated, and still had to report for duty. He didn't want to go back to his apartment after his shift, because he wasn't sure if Babs would still be waiting for him or not-- so instead he'd stolen away back to Gotham, to sneak into the cave while Bruce was on his patrol to get more of the anti-serum for the Joker's final gag, for a few of the infected the BPD was trying to keep contained.

He was lingering around the lab equipment, still dressed in his police uniform and devoid of any mask, when he hears a voice-- a voice that wasn't Alfred or Bruce, a voice that on first thought, totally belonged but one that he thought he'd never hear again. A face, hidden as it is, that he'd never thought he see again.]

Tim--?

[He stares, long and hard. No, he-- maybe he was finally going crazy. Maybe he couldn't just let this go. Maybe it was Scarecrow gas? It had to be a hallucination-- there was no way this was real.

So-- in the end he turns away, shakes his head and looks back to the samples he needs, one hand coming up to cradle the side of his head.]

No-- No way. You're not real-- I'm not talking to you. I'm not that far gone yet.

Dick!

[ He bounds over, relieved, inexplicably, because Nightwing's alright, but Dick is silent, just looking at him, and Tim's brows are furrowing in confusion as he slows.

Not exactly the warmest welcome back. Is this because he didn't check in all week? But -- no. Dick thinks he's not real. ]

Funny how we're talking even if you say we're not talking.

[ He's snarking, but it's gentler; the realization that Dick thinks he's dead, and thinks that this is a hallucination, is a sobering one. He knew they'd be hurt by the news, but... He worries his lip, peeling off the mask and tucking it away. Tim's got a bruise blooming at his temple, and his eye's squinting a little from how swollen it is. He sidles up to Dick, cautious. ]

I'm not a hallucination. Or a ghost, or anything.

[ Way too hungry to be dead. J'onn had given him some Oreos, but Tim's ready to eat as much pizza as he can get his hands on. ]

It's a long story, but-- c'mon, Dick, look at me.

[He's doing his damndest to ignore him-- to not look at him, crosses his arms over his chest and stars (glares) downward, as if he might be studying something but really just looking very angrily at the air. He can't predict what he would do if he did look at him, illusion or not.]

Is Jason gonna show up now too?

[There's almost a spark of petulance in his voice, but the anger is mostly a show. It's not the first time he's seen a dead Robin. Too many dead kids. Too many lost family and friends. He couldn't do this anymore.]

Just tell me my lesson and go away. Something about 'revenge' and 'justice,' right?

Lesson?

[ Does he think Tim is the Ghost of Christmas Future or something? Seriously? He puffs out a frustrated sigh, blowing his bangs out of his face. Dick won't even look at him, and it's -- it's starting to scare him, a little, though he wouldn't admit it. Dick's acting so casual about it, so accepting, as if this is normal, and he mentioned Jason...

Does he get visions like this that often? About his predecessor?

Tim shifts from foot to foot, uneasy, and reaches out, laying a light hand on Dick's arm. With the glove missing, it's a warm, solid, very corporeal weight; knuckles scuffed and scraped, and smudged with dirt after a week of no showers, and very, very real. ]

I'm not dead. Like I said, it's a long story, but... after Arkham, I ended up at Slabside, it's back and in Antarctica now -- [ Great, he's rambling. Get to the point, Timbo. ] -- the Martian Manhunter just flew me over, you can check in with him to verify if you really need to.

[The weight-- no, not the weight, the warmth, on his arm, solid and firm and perfectly Tim-sized and so very there-- seems to jolt him out of whatever state he's sunken into. A dream never feels this real, an auditory or visual hallucination could never be this on point at the same time. He had enough composure not to completely flinch, but there's a definite jump in his stature, barely there but painfully noticeable for someone like them.

In the same motion he opens his eyes, lifts his head to look at the boy standing next to him, lets the expression on his face melt away from harsh anger to something softer, sad, but hopeful-- maybe hopeful, maybe just desperate.

The slab-- he remembered the reports, it'd completely disappeared, practically off the face of the Earth. Was that where...?]

You're-- you're alive? [He's already moving, worried hands beginning to fuss as he carefully inspects Tim's injuries, checks for more, assures himself that he's there, and oh look, he has a pulse, takes a look at the eye, a few of the cuts and bruises, he really was--] Are you OK? No internal injuries, broken bones, head injury or toxin exposure?

[ Nightwing really is out of sorts. Even the acknowledgment of his existence doesn't do much to settle his worry; that jump, and the way he's looking at him--

Tim, for the first time, gets an inkling of how much he's actually come to mean to Dick. Though he skirts around the word (brothers), because he wouldn't ever assume too much, and Tim kind of invited himself in, after all, it's there, quiet but insistent. Rather than waving off the attention, he lets the other check him over, shaking his head at the questions. ]

Just knocked around some. Had a few run-ins with way too many man-eaters.

[ Killer Croc, Orca, King Shark... If he included Charaxes, there's a disturbing trend of too many things trying to eat him. ]

Mostly, I'm hungry as all get-out. We were trapped down in the Aqua Block so long I was starting to think King Shark was looking like shark fin soup.

[ Eating the man-eaters. Bad joke. He's really got to work on his humor. ]

Is -- is everyone okay?

[ Bruce, especially. The worry in Tim's eyes speaks volumes -- if Dick is this bad off, Bruce must be really, really bad. ]

[His hands eventually come to settle on Tim's shoulders once he's convinced there's no obvious sign of permanent damage, his grip strong but-- trying to be gentle, and wary, still half certain that this was way too good to be true. The evidence was right here. He didn't need to doubt right now, did he?]

Everyone's fine. [Physically, at least.] They're... dealing with it.

[Maybe. Honestly, he doesn't really know for sure. Alfred, for all his stoicism, is probably heartbroken. Steph was probably a mess, though maybe she and Cass at least had each other. Babs dealt with things in anger-- and Bruce... He'd refused to even let himself guess. But it's all nust maybes and assumptions anyway.]

You should probably give everyone a call-- talk to them yourself. Everyone... was worries. [Understatement, and the barely feigned cheer in his voice doesn't have the same ring it usually does.] If you call Alfred down, I'm sure he'd be wiing to make you the biggest damn buffet you've ever seen.

[His voice tapers off into an unfinished thought-- he plans to be long gone before Alfie shows up to investigate the noise. But then, with little fanfare, Dick pulls Tim into his arms. Just for a moment, and he's sure to mindful of cute and bruises for another moment there it seems like he's not willing to let go, because god Tim was here and he was alive and OK and he was going to live and Dick's chest couldn't help but swell with joy and relief at the thought as his mind finally came to terms with what must have been reality.]

[ Everyone's fine. That's good. Tim doesn't bother hiding the way his shoulders slump in relief beneath Dick's grip. He'd known there'd be casualties as soon as the prisoners started escaping, and known the numbers weren't all that great, but looks like everyone pulled through. ]

I will. My gear's busted, or I would've called in as soon as I got out.

[ The Martian Manhunter hadn't said whether he'd let Batman know if he saw him, but Tim's sure the news has already spread around to the rest of the big leaguers. But when Tim calls in - oh boy. That's gonna be an adventure. Batman's probably going to put him through the ringer, to make sure he's really alive and really himself.

Maybe he'll let Alfred know, first. Tim doesn't want to face Bruce on an empty stomach. ]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make everyone worry--

[ The apology cuts off when Dick drags him into a hug, and there's a lump in his throat at how desperate and relieved it is. Tim's never been all that physically affectionate, unused to handing out casual touch, but he's responsive and sensitive enough to know when to meet someone halfway without prompting. He winds his arms back around Dick, tight; small and wiry and very much so Tim, ripped suit and all, face buried in the older vigilante's chest. ]

Are you okay, Dick?

[ Talking about hallucinations, and Jason. And for some reason he's in his BPD uniform, and he said that Tim should call, rather than Dick immediately ringing them all up, or calling for Alfred, and there's a lot of pieces here that don't fit right. Something that Tim can't put his finger on, but it's nothing good, he thinks. ]

I thought you were dead.

[It's not as if he hadn't lost friends before; hadn't lost family before. But that didn't mean it stung any less when yet another person was gone. In the end he hadn't been able to deal with the fact that he'd never see Tim again.

He'd let himself become a murderer for it. It'd just made him feel worse. He had no way to know how Tim would react to that kind of news. Tim just-- wanted to help people. No doubt, he would find out eventually; no doubt, Bruce was probably on his way back right now, if J'onn had been the one to bring Tim back from Antarctica.

No, he was definitely going to be long gone by then. But for now, he was only glad that Tim was safe.]

We all did. [He releases his hold, though reluctant to give it up completely as he lets his hands idle on the sides of Tim's arms, as though if he let go or looked away then he really would just disappear, he'd just be another ghost that Dick couldn't let go, and the strain of this entire affair and the week in between was starting to show through in his voice.] I'm just-- glad that you're OK. Everyone could use some good news.

[ It's maybe a little difficult for Tim to understand. He hasn't been outside, has just spent the past week kicking his heels and waiting for the right chance, and he's so young -- aside from his mom, he hasn't lost anybody close to him like that. Not like Dick has. It's hard to wrap his mind around what it must have been like for them.

But he's as reluctant to let go as Dick is, if only because it seems like Dick really, really needs it. Tim, being Tim, hooks onto the comment, eyebrows bunching worriedly. ]

Good news? I thought -- well, J'onn said the riots are almost over. Just rounding the stragglers up now. That's good news, isn't it? The Joker's stopped, most of the heavy-hitters are being given the antidote and brought back into Arkham and Slabside...

[ Sure, there's damages, loss of life. Tim gathered that much. But the fights ended quickly, and everything sounds like it's on its way to returning back to normal. ]

Did something else happen?

[Ah yes. Tim was always smart like that. Dick can recognize the hook, but he's not quite of the right mind to to avoid it completely, can't think about it much when the new topic makes him fully pull away, returned to his own personal space, and harden his expression again.]

It's not exactly a cherry-picking happy day to celebrate after so many people have been hurt or died. A win like this is bitter at best.

[Unusually pessimistic for him-- or maybe he was just being overly sensitive. But it was a different case with Tim being alive, after all.]

We got things under control, but it'll probably be awhile before the world can really get over it... but-- you being back, that's the important part. So-- don't worry.

[ His face sombers. Dick's sterner than usual, and it's a little jarring, but he's also right. A lot could happen in a week, and Tim's only just now starting to learn what. ]

Yeah.

[ Tim's going to worry. And fret. That's what Tim does. There's going to be a permanent worry line in his forehead by the time he's eighteen -- there's the makings of it, right there. Tim's had a hell of a week himself. ]

I'm sorry, 'Wing. I should have been here.

[ It's not like he could have done anything different -- it'd been an unlucky series of events that had landed him at Slabside, incommunicado -- but still, Tim can't help but feel like he could have made a difference somehow. Could have saved just one more person, could have helped, if he'd just been a little quicker, a little smarter. ]

I told you-- don't worry about it. It's not your fault. That's just... what the Joker does.

[(Did, now.)

Of course he was going to worry anyway-- any of them would. But Bruce would give Tim grief for what happened on his own, in his own way that sort of meant he cared. No need for Dick to give him the grief for it right now.

He casts his gaze around a bit unsure of what to do with himself, trying to keep an eye out for signs of anyone coming in-- before focusing on Tim again, a bit of a lopsided attempt at a smile on his face.]

I mean-- you basically just got out of cellblock, right? You don't have to apologize to me when you should be celebrating-- or at least getting something to eat and out of half a uniform.

[Nothing to worry about. Everything totally fine on his front, yes indeed.]

A cellblock in a black hole, too. I'm surprised we managed to get back as soon as we did.

[ The odds really weren't in their favor.

But there it is again. Dick's acting strange. For a moment, Tim can't place the behavior. He'd -- well, he'd like to think Dick would be making a ruckus by now, with Tim back from the dead. He's not. He's looking around, distracted, suggesting that Tim go tend to himself rather than herding him along.

There's two immediate explanations that come to mind.

The first is that Dick is dismissing him. Run along now, Timbo, he doesn't really wanna talk to you. Which? Ow.

The second is that Dick is-- ]

Are you avoiding someone?

Edited 2014-11-18 07:01 (UTC)

Wh--? Of course not.

[He's quick to answer, almost like he's offended by the assertion-- but Dick quickly realizes that line's not gonna be getting him anywhere. He lets out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, his shoulders sagging along with it.]

I had an argument with Bruce the other day. [Not a lie-- but definitely an understatement. Like, the kind that would go in a World Records book.]

I don't really wanna talk to him. I'm exhausted-- That's all.

[ Tim doesn't look like he buys it, not completely, but Nightwing and Batman fight a lot. It's not really that surprising that Dick's skirting around him. Tim grins crookedly, sympathetic, and pats Dick on the arm. ]

He does have that effect on people.

[ This seems to be a recurring theme in all of his conversations with other heroes. Batman is exhausting, Batman is terrifying, standoffish, they feel like they're letting him down or always making mistakes -- Tim hums, and agrees, and always tells them that's just how it is with Bruce. ]

Anything I can do to help?

[ He's gotten pretty good at playing mediator between the two of them. ]

Don't I know it?

[At least he's aware of how often they argue. He responds with comical exasperation, but his heart isn't in it like with most of his behavior this week, and now he can't seem to get himself to relax anymore, good going Grayson.]

No-- like I said, don't worry about it. [Honestly, he hates how much they've ended up finding around Tim. He wasn't just some dumb kid, but it wasn't really air to him.]

...Sorry, I guess I'm raining on your 'Welcome Home' parade-- but I'm glad to see you. Really. Just got a lot going on right now.

Edited 2014-11-19 05:21 (UTC)

[ He won't press too hard. He hasn't ever really seen Dick this down before, and Tim's not about to make it worse. He just gives his arm a supportive squeeze, shrugging. ]

It's fine. There'll be fireworks later, anyway, rain or shine.

[ Batman is going to chew him out for hours. ]

But you can always talk to me about anything, you know that, right? S'only fair after how much whining you gotta hear on my end.

[ Dick, my girlfriend's pregnant. Dick, my dad's super pissed at me. Dick, I like Steph more than Ariana, help.

Nightwing's always been his sounding board about anything. Like a real brother. ]

...Yeah.

[Clipped, short-- Sometimes he does like to talk about his problems to someone who will listen, try to seek out some answers. Babs has offered to talk, and Wally has too; but there's no one he can really talk to about this. No one he trusts, at least.

Tim, I murdered the Joker. I haven't spoken with Bruce since you went missing. Surprise. Yeah, no way.

He moves away, gathering up the serum samples he'd come to collect.]

I gotta-- get going. We can-- hang out some time, after Bruce puts you through the ringer, if you're still up for it. You should probably go tell Alfie you're here, anyway.

[ He's a little disheartened that Dick's so strangely cagey, but the reason will out, eventually. It's just something else for Robin to puzzle and turn over. See if he can't poke his nose around and get an idea of what Bruce and Dick were fighting about. Alfred might be just the man he needs to see on that front. ]

Definitely. With the company I've had these past few days, I could really go for some one-on-one time.

[ King Shark really wasn't great conversation, at all.

For now, he'll go break the news to Alfred, and prepare for the inevitable flood of questions. Hopefully there'll be food in there, and a shower, and a change of clothes, and maybe a nap, too. Can crash in the guest room for a bit until Bruce gets in. ]

I'll swing by in a day or two, sound good?

[ He's going to make you commit to a thing, Dick. ]

Yeah-- sounds good.

[He's not really listening anymore-- not really paying attention to actually setting any plans in stone. Things are too different now, he thinks, for anything to really stand firm once Tim talks to Bruce. Bruce'll probably be worried and keep him busy anyway.

(He's starting to think, maybe, he's not as firm in his decision as he thought he was an hour ago-- but is that selfish? To have been fine with the Joker still being alive, if his little brother had survived the ordeal? The madman's gone and Tim's alive-- it should be the best of both worls, right?)

Distracted, clearly distracted, but not too much that he can't find his footsteps to start moving back towards the Cave's exit.]

I'll see you then.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Last Laugh AU (for plus)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject