“I just do!” Jason stands up and chucks Tim’s utility belt back to him. “Stay there. I’m going to talk to Bruce.”
terror can be a decent painkiller in the short term. It’s not like telling him to lay back down will do any good.
What would Bruce say, if he were here right now? Would he say anything at all, or would he just look over at Jason with those dark, all-knowing eyes and just shake his head?
He reaches for a knife, for a gun, for something with which to fight off the specter of death as it comes to tear his little brother from his undeserving hands
It takes a moment for Jason to realize he’s pulling at the strands. “Hey!” Without thinking, he grabs one of the smaller pieces of scrap metal and chucks it at Tim. “Cut that out!”
The piece of metal hits Tim in the side. He whirls around, tearing his hands from his hair in the process. There are little clumps of black hair stuck between his fingers. “Fuck off!” He barks. “I don’t want to fucking talk to you!”
“Stop pulling out your hair then, asshole!” Jason snaps back. “The last thing you need is a god damn bald spot.”
Tim’s bloodshot eyes glitter dangerously. He brings a hand to his head, grabs a tuftful of his hair, and yanks with all his might. The force is enough to throw him sideways, but he doesn’t let go, even as strands start to audibly snap under his fingers. “Tim.” Jason rises to his feet. “Tim! Stop that!”
He reaches Tim in two long steps and grabs him by the forearm. Tim decides then that it’s a wonderful time to drive his free fist straight into his mouth. The sound of his knuckles hitting his teeth makes Jason wince. “Stop that, you little bastard!” He tries to wrangle Tim to his chest, but Tim seems to have gotten a second wind and squirms out of Jason’s grip. The moment his hands are free, they’re back at his face, tearing and hitting and scratching. It’s frightening. “Stop!” Jason cries. He grabs Tim by both wrists and twists him up against the wall. “You’ll gouge out your fucking eyes!”
Tim shrieks wordlessly. He looks like he’s just had a fistfight with an angry cat and lost. “Fuck you!” He thrashes wildly, kicking at Jason’s legs and stomach. “Get off of me!”
“Stop hurting yourself!” Jason yells.
“Fuck off! I hate you!” Tim drops to his knees, dragging Jason down with him. Jason leans back and sits on Tim’s legs, pinning them to the ground. He has to let go of Tim’s wrists to keep himself from being thrown off, and Tim immediately goes back to clawing at his cheeks and neck as though the hounds of hell themselves are trapped under his skin.
Fear is such a complex emotion and there’s no better person to explore it with than Tim! I loved peeling back his layers and forcing Jason to come along for the ride too. I wanted to subvert some expectations with his experiences with fear toxin because people forget that Tim’s most common and potent form of violence (besides towards the league of assassins LMAO) is toward himself! Especially in my own mini-canon here. Lil homie got ISSUES
Comment on Tim Drake's Two-For-One Special Of Hell
Menagerieofsorts on Chapter 1 Thu 01 Jun 2023 09:02PM UTC
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OberonBronze on Chapter 1 Thu 01 Jun 2023 09:11PM UTC
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