Hotline (for Sarah)

[mistersarcastic]

[ Well, interesting. This is where he's ended up, after everything. Secret shared, Bruce is really, actually alive, and when it finally leaves his hands he understands why he held onto it for so long, why he searched alone and risked taking it to his grave and condemning them both.

It gave him purpose, a reason to wake up in the morning and tell himself, "let's try really hard to not die today."

He's not trying so hard anymore. With this many assassins and killers and maniacs on his tail--

(amazing, really, how many people in this world pursue killing as a career)

--he's been playing a game of Russian Roulette, and maybe it's not him that'll pull that trigger, but he's not quitting the game, either. Does that count as suicidal intent? He's not sure. He's calling the hotline anyway. ]

Hey, so, hypothetical. Is it considered suicide if you keep putting yourself in situations where it's certain death, and it just sort of happens?

[ Or would he get a Darwin award for that instead?

Maybe he should be talking to Dick about this rather than to a perfect stranger on the phone. Dick is his brother. It'd be a great segue to reopen communication, to see if they can bring their relationship back to what it was: "Hey, Dick, I think I really do need to see that therapist."

But, he thinks, they're far past that point. He'd wanted help and support, to be listened to and believed, but that was then and this is now; things have changed. Calling the hotline isn't him reaching out. It isn't him looking to be convinced or persuaded. For someone with no god to pray to, this is him making his peace with the preacher. ]

Comments

[mistersarcastic]

[ He laughs at that, though it's a little wetter than he's really comfortable with -- yeah, humans can be dumb. Tim's hurt plenty of friends, and he knows it; dropping out of contact, not paying attention to them, saying the wrong thing or prioritizing the vigilante life over the personal. It's how he hurt Steph. ]

This is why everyone should just get a dog. Problem solved.

[ Dogs are amazing like that. ]

It's uh, what's it called? The Porcupine's Problem?

[ Tim's got his specialties, but philosophy really wasn't one of them. ]

...Thanks, Peter. You know, for just -- talking with me. For understanding.

[waywardbird]

I do what I can, kid. It's no problem at all.

[ And this was why Jason did this-- he could feel the thing in his chest getting warm as he heard Tim speak. It felt...good to make a positive impact on someone's life.

Especially knowing this was someone he actually knew, even if they did have a weird past. ]

You got anythin' else you wanna talk about while you got me? I'm all ears.

[mistersarcastic]

No, I think -- I think that's all.

[ A nice, civil conversation. A moment of real human connection, outside of the whirl and frenzy of vigilante life, where it was Just Tim and just someone willing to listen. ]

Don't wanna take up too much of your time. And got a... few things of my own to take care of in a bit.

[ He hasn't even looked down at his plans in the last ten minutes, utterly forgotten. Scanning them now, it feels like the cape settling back over his shoulders after something like years. Reality to Timbo, come in, Timbo: back to the fight, now.

He doesn't know if this changed anything, not yet. But he thinks he may be starting to hope so. ]

[waywardbird]

Well, if you ever want or need to call again-- you know where to go. Glad you're feelin' better, kid.

[ He was getting soft-- he genuinely was happy that Tim had sought help. Christ almighty. ]

Til next time, Tim.

[ Jason reached into his pocket, pulling out his cellphone, and scrolled through the contacts til Tim's name popped up. He looked at it for a moment before setting the phone back down; he'd text later. When it wasn't quite so suspicious. ]