thegoshdarn | (no subject)

(no subject)

Ra's offered to put the League at her disposal. She could have used that against him, taken the opportunity to memorize his strongholds and bring him down. Maybe she should have; it would have given some point to this useless search she got herself into, looking for evidence that Bruce was alive. But she had Tamara Fox to think about, and, if she's being honest, she doesn't trust her own judgement right now.

(She was so sure. A part of her wants to just keep looking for the evidence she thought she could find, but - it doesn't exist. If it had, she would have found it. Her father's dead, again, and she can't bring Bruce back any more than she could have resurrected Jack.)

Instead, she bargains off what she knows to buy herself and Tam out of the entire mess. Tam can go back to her father and tell him that she brought back Timothea Drake-Wayne, and Tim... she goes home. Well. Assuming she can force herself to make the last few steps towards the Manor's entrance. It's more of a struggle than she'd like to admit to not turn around and go to a safe house to just lie low for a while, lick her proverbial wounds, but she supposes she's done enough running already.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

They were independent kids, Dick knew that better than most, it wasn't exactly commonplace for everybody to be running around the manor and getting in each other's way (as much as Dick would actually have enjoyed that), but it still feel eerily empty to be hanging around there these days. Nobody seemed to want to stop by, he guessed Bruce left a pretty big hole - he knew that better than anybody, since he was the one trying to fill it.

Still, just because he knew that the manor wasn't exactly an easy place to be around, and just because he knew that wherever his siblings were they were almost certainly safe and content doing their own thing, didn't mean he didn't want them here. Maybe he'd watched a little too much Lilo and Stitch, but family was family, even if it was a little unconventional, so he'd had an eye out for any sign of them for a while now. The longer it went on that he didn't have tabs on them, the more worried he got.

Essentially, that meant that Tim didn't exactly have a choice over making those last few steps, because manor security had already picked up on her arrival, and Dick was on tenterhooks for any sign of her. He doesn't content himself with waiting at the door for long, so only a few minutes go by before he throws the door open and steps out to wait for her on the front step.

She's... not surprised that he's already noticed he's there. Probably she lost her window for disappearing quietly the moment she got close to the property.

That doesn't mean she feels in any way ready for this conversation. More like she might throw up, actually, though she guesses that could also be because she's technically still recovering from an emergency splenectomy. Ready or not, though, it's probably better to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"I fucked up."

Well that's definitely not the first thing he expects to hear from her, he was rather hoping the first thing to happen would be a hug, with only Alfred and Damian in the house there's been precious few of them going around, and Dick likes hugs. Still, that's not important right now, what's important is addressing why she was obviously so reluctant to come home, and what she thinks she's done that's so bad.

"Come inside, tell me all about it." he tries to keep his voice reassuring, wants her to know this is home whatever she's done, but he can't hide the worry - more for her than about her, but it's still there.

She hangs back for a few seconds before giving him an awkward not-quite-smile that looks more like a surrender than anything and starting forward. "Okay." Her movement is stiff and careful; she's already torn the stitches from her surgery once, no point in doing it again. If it had been performed by someone other than a doctor contracted by the League of Assassins, she'd probably still be under observation at a hospital.

Plus, the more time she has an open wound, the more chances of it getting badly infected. She guesses that's something she'll have to get used to thinking about, now that she doesn't have a spleen.

Tim was probably the best detective of all the Robins, but that didn't mean Dick was exactly lacking in that department, and it was pretty obvious that something was wrong with Tim from the way she moved.

He frowned thoughtfully, stepping aside to let her into the manor and trying to get a better look as she walked past. It was hard to tell without anything out in the open, but he was pretty sure she was probably injured in some way. Is that what she meant? Had she got herself hurt, and now she was ashamed? He hoped that was all it was...

Closing the door behind them, Dick motions her to follow him into the kitchen, taking a seat at the breakfast table.

"Okay, what's up?"

She sits down, not quite looking at him, and wonders vaguely who else is home. Hopefully not Damian. God, the last thing she needs right now is for him to show up and rub it in that she's delusional and thank god Dick took away the Robin mantle before she could fuck it up.

Speaking of which. Obvious things first. "I was wrong. About Bruce."

He toys with closing the door, giving them some privacy in case Damian comes wandering in, but he isn't exactly inclined to - it's a bit like having a teenager in the house, even though he's a few years off it, he's more likely to be holed up in his room being moody than anywhere else. He forgets he's even thinking about it when she speaks, and he looks down at the table.

It hurts to hear, even though he should expect it, even though he wasn't really holding out hope, not properly (maybe at the back of his mind, that tiny part that was still that little boy who had just lost his parents, who Bruce was there for), it still stings to be reminded. He doesn't trust himself to speak, not wanting for his voice to crack and upset her even more. He hasn't had much of a chance to grieve, himself, too busy keeping it together for everybody else.

Instead he nods slightly, and motions for her to continue.

She guesses maybe it should be hitting her all over again, his death. At this point, though, it's just - she hasn't had time. She's had things to do. Don't bleed to death in the middle of nowhere with only a League assassin for company. Make sure Tamara makes it home safe. Go home and figure out what to tell Dick. If she lets herself feel it, she's not going to make it to the end of the list.

She's not sure what happens when she's done with the list.

"I - went looking. For proof." She stares down at the table. It's much easier to look at right now than him, especially when he told her it was in her head and she demanded step back and give her a chance. "Ra's al Ghul approached me and offered... help. Well. I guess not really offered so much as sent me assassins and told them to intervene on my behalf whether I wanted it or not."

Edited 2015-05-23 00:57 (UTC)

Dick wasn't really the type for 'I-told-you-so's, not in cases like this anyway, when she's sitting there just looking so small and worried and he kind of hates that she feels that way, but he doesn't know what to say when she starts explaining.

He frowns at the talk of Ra's, though he's more annoyed at him than at her, what the hell is he playing at sending a bunch of assassins after her? He had no idea what to make of that and he was angry that... that what? He realised then it wasn't even Ra's he was mad at, it was himself, she shouldn't have been in that position, off on her own, he should have been there.

She pauses for a second, not quite sure what else to tell him. She supposes most of the details aren't necessary. He doesn't really need to know where she went or how she got there, just the ending. "I wasn't finding the proof I went looking for, so I - we - went to Iraq. I didn't... I realized I was looking for something that didn't exist. I was about to call it off when we were attacked out of nowhere by someone who called himself the Widower who said he was from the Council of Spiders.

"He killed two of the people I was with, and I barely managed to drag myself and the other survivor to a Wayne facility. The League found us there. And, um, so did Tamara Fox. Apparently Lucius sent her after me." She pauses for a second in case he has any questions. Or wants to ask if her identity is compromised.

He still doesn't really see how that constitutes her fucking up, everything that went wrong wasn't entirely her fault, but he can also see how that's his point of view, and she probably views the whole thing as a spectacular failure. Failure isn't really an option for them a lot of the time, and Tim seemed to take it harder than most.

"How hurt did you get?" he starts off, realising her movements earlier might have been more serious than he thought. "I... ok. Just tell me the bits I need to worry about, is anybody still after you, do they know where to find you, do they know... anything else?"
He wants to let her talk if that's what she needs, but he wants to make sure the important points are covered.

"The Widower had no idea who I was. He thought I was with the League, and I know that if he thought there was I chance I would survive, he wouldn't have left." Still pretty sloppy for a professional assassin. Of course, if he'd been more thorough, she wouldn't be here now. "Tam... I'm not quite sure what she's put together yet, but I'm not concerned about her. I figured I'd talk to her again when she's had some time to process. The League grabbed her, too, when it came for me and the other survivor."

She considers whether or not to tell him about Ra's offer. It probably falls under the mantle of things he should know in case it comes up in any future dealings with the League. "Ra's... asked me to lead the League in searching out the Council of Spiders. I probably could have - used that access in some way to weaken the League, but I traded him what I knew about the Council in exchange for Tamara and I walking away clean. I... doubt anyone in the League is happy with me about that."

And now for the best part. How hurt did you get. "They had to perform an emergency splenectomy on me while I was there, but that was the worst of it."

Dick is silent for a long time while he processes all that, weighing up the risks and potential fall out from everything she's told him. It mostly seems she came away clean - apart from the bit where she had major surgery. As soon as he had fully processed it, overprotective big brother mode was activated big time. Now it was question time.

"How emergency are we talking here, did they have time to disinfect everything, did they have proper facilities, were they trained medical professionals, how long ago was this? Have you been keeping the wound clean, has a doctor looked at it, are you supposed to get check-ups? We should get someone to take a proper look at it."

She can't help the startled laugh at the onslaught of questions. Not because it's funny, but because - just because. It's been a long... weeks. "Dick. It was the League of Assassins. I didn't exactly get aftercare instructions. I had to Google most of what I know on the way out of the country."

Much of which hasn't quite sunk in yet. Maybe that should be the next thing on the list: figure out what to do about lack of spleen.

"Right then. We're getting a doctor over here right now to check you out." he stands up decisively, about to head to the phone to call one of the many medical-professionals-who-don't-ask-questions they have on speed dial in this house, but then he stops and turns back to her.

"I'm glad you're home, Timmy." he tells her sincerely, crossing back over to pull her into a hug (gently, of course, given what she's told him). "Don't worry me like that again."

Just like that. She'd slapped away help from pretty much everyone of her friends and family who'd tried to reach her and run off with the League of Assassins, and he's just going to give her a hug and tell her he's glad she's home? No lecture about not running off to prove crazy theories or alienating your friends. He hasn't even brought up the therapist in Metropolis again, though she guesses that he might just be waiting on that in light of her surgery. Just... I'm glad you're home.

Why is it that this is what makes her want to cry more than anything else she just told him? It's like all of the sudden she's barely holding herself together. Or only just noticed it.

Of course it's not going to be that easy, Dick's essentially resolved to himself that she needs some downtime, and he's basically going to be keeping her wrapped in cotton wool for the foreseeable future, but emotions are running a little high in Bruce's absence and he's just so glad to have her back that he doesn't want to ruin it with yelling or lecturing.

He perhaps holds her a little tighter and longer than even he ordinarily would, absent-mindedly stroking her hair with one hand, though whether he's reassuring her or himself it isn't exactly clear.

"Let's get you that doctor." he finally says, pulling away.

"Okay," she says, and if the calm she manages to pull together is still incredibly fragile, she's not going to be the one to admit it.

Most of what the doctor tells her are things she's already figured out. She'll be on antibiotics for essentially the foreseeable future, and she's going to be significantly more vulnerable to infections going forward. Even a basic flu could develop complications and turn into something life-threatening, so she's set up with a schedule for immunizations and vaccine boosters. And she's already completely disregarded most of the aftercare recommendations, like decreased physical activity while she's healing and avoiding crowds of people to decrease her exposure to possible infections. It's also suggested she get a medical alert bracelet, which is just what she needed to complete the Wayne-heir-slash-vigilante look.

In the wake of much more information about the dangers of infections than she ever wanted to know, she's not really quite sure what to say to Dick now. She clears her throat. "...So how's Damian doing?"

Tim might be disregarding half of it, but Dick certainly isn't, he's already plotting out how best to do this. Maybe they could make modifications to her costume to build in one of those surgical masks and protect her from breathing in anything nasty that was going to make her sick. A medical alert bracelet was probably not the best idea, maybe when she was out and about as herself, but it was too dangerous while she was fighting crime, but they could probably come up with some kind of alternative. He'd already been thinking about more ways for them all to track each other anyway, but now it seemed even more important to be able to find Tim in an emergency.

He wasn't quite at the stage of banning her from crime fighting altogether, he knew how important that mission was to all of them, but he wasn't too far off it. He's gathering together all the literature the doctor has given them when Tim speaks. He glances up and gives her I-know-what-you're-trying-to-do-young-lady look.

"Damian is doing fine. You, on the other hand... Tim you're going to need to take a break for a bit."

Ugh. Yes, brilliant redirection, Ms. 'I Lie To Batman'. Tim drops her head into her hands. "I know." At least until the stitches are out, obviously. No point in tearing them again. She should be done with the round of vaccinations by then. She's sure Damian's going to be only too happy to hang around in the meantime and point out how useless she is while she's in recovery.

The doctor had also left a prescription for pain medication with her. She's not really sure she wants to bother, but they might as well fill it and add it to the stash they keep handy in the Batcave for emergencies. At least that'd be something useful.

"You can do the research stuff until you're fully recovered." Tim is good with computers, right? Surely that'll be something to keep her busy until she's healed enough to go running around the rooftops of Gotham again.

"But until then, you're staying home where I can keep an eye on you." he's pretty sure she was expecting a much more serious reaction to everything she'd done than what he'd actually given her, so he feels justified in grounding her for the foreseeable future. Partly for her own health, but there is at least a small amount of punishment in it.

Maybe not busy, but - it is something. She guesses she'll have to figure out what to tell her school about her unexplained absence, too. Add that to the list.

Staying home where he can keep an eye on her isn't that far off from what she expected (although when he says home, she assumes he means the city, not the actual manor). Still. She sighs. "I'll be fine, Dick."

"You're right," he agrees, and there's that moment where it might actually seem like he's going to be more lenient, but then it goes away "You'll be absolutely fine, as long as you do everything the doctor told you to do. No leaving the house until you're recovered. Except school I guess, but not right away."

She was smart, she could get by without the school time. She had been sick and there was a bereavement in the family, he was sure he could come up with some suitably vague explanation to give the school, and if not... well, he'd do what Bruce always did, and make donations until they stopped asking.

Well. At least as long as he's demanding she stay in the house, she doesn't have to worry about him bringing up the therapist in Metropolis again. She could stick it out for a week or two. "As long as you keep Damian away from me."

Because. The Demon Child would not help her recover, and she is 100% certain of that.

"Deal. Damian will leave you alone." Privately, he was amused by the way they bickered, they probably didn't realise it but there was something particularly sibling-y about their dislike for each other. Still, at least in this they were in total agreement, Damian getting her riled up was definitely not going to help her recovery.

"The house is big enough for the both of you."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 5