Work Text:
Dick's just about to climb into bed when he hears multiple hollow knocks against his door. Eyes burning, he stumbles past his Nightwing costume and the bundle of unwashed clothes that are strewn hazardously across his bedroom. He shuffles down the hallway, the chilled wood floor making shivers dance from his toes to his hairline. He needs to crank the thermostat up higher. It’s been so long since he’s slept at his place that it didn’t occur to him to change it on account of the colder fall weather.
Another loud thump echoes through his sparsely furnished apartment. Dick clips his shoulder against the corner of a wall in his haste to get to the door, muttering a curse under his breath. He hasn’t taken the time to rest in two days and his sleep-deprived brain is obviously slacking in the spacial awareness department.
A quick look through the peephole shows him that it’s only Tim at the door. On one hand, Dick’s glad he doesn’t have to pull the nonexistent energy out of his ass and put on a front. On the other hand, it’s likely that Tim’s here about a work-related problem and not just a social visit, which means that Dick is going to need coffee instead of a bed.
He paws at his security system and undoes the multiple locks. As soon as he gets the door open, he sees Tim shifting from foot to foot, his hands jammed in the front of his red hoodie. Tim sweeps his eyes over him and frowns. “Sorry, did I wake you?” There’s a brand new looking pet carrier by his feet that he carefully picks up and brings inside. “Jesus, Dick, it’s just as cold in here as it is out there.”
Dick rubs his hands over his face while Tim deposits the carrier on the coffee table and makes a grab for the fuzzy blanket on the couch. “Haven’t been to bed yet, actually.” There’s no point in lying to Tim when he knows better than anyone what an unrested face looks like. “What’s with the pet carrier?”
Tim kicks off his shoes, burritos himself in the blanket, and lands in an ungraceful heap against the corner of the couch. His red-tipped socks peak out from underneath. After turning the heat up, Dick slumps next to him.
“What’s in the pet carrier would be a better question,” Tim says. He pushes forward on his knees until he’s eye level with the carrier, brows furrowed in concentration. “It’s hiding in the back corner.”
“It? I was hoping you brought me a Halloween kitten.”
Tim leans away from him so they can look at each other properly. “Is that a thing now?”
Dick yawns. “It better not be. Damian already wants another cat for Christmas. I don’t need him thinking he can pick up a new animal friend every holiday.” He slinks lower into the couch to try and see whatever creature is lurking in the shadows of the carrier. From what he can tell, it looks like a black cat, but there’s something… not right about its head. “Did you bring a demon cat into my home?”
Tim snorts and opens the cage. “I wish I could say no, but I honestly have no idea what it is.” His hands disappear for a few seconds before they reappear with a wiggling black cat… thing. Its face and body are distinctly cat-looking. The curled goat-like horns coming out of the top of its head where its ears should be are most certainly not.
Mesmerized, Dick slowly brings his hand up to the demon cat’s face to let it sniff him. The demon cat stretches its neck out to accommodate him and Dick jerks his hand back after eyeing the horns. He pauses to stare into the demon cat’s green eyes before he brings his hand forward again. Demon cat gently presses its nose to Dick’s hand, its nostrils flaring while it checks out his fingers. Then, like Alfred the cat has done multiple times, demon cat bumps its forehead against his hand and closes its eyes. Dick ghosts one of his fingers over the horns, noting how tough and sturdy they are. He uses his other hand to scratch under demon cat’s chin and grins when it inclines its head for better access.
“It’s sorta cute, huh?” Tim says after observing them. His own hand is smoothing back the fur on the demon cat’s back. “I found it sniffing the saddlebags on my bike near Aparo park.”
“What were you doing over there?” Demon cat knocks its horn against his knuckles when it decides its had enough attention and it turns around to start kneading on Tim’s blanket.
“Testing out a new drone prototype. I’m trying to make it as compact as possible without compromising the video and audio features.”
“Any luck?”
“A few kinks to work out. I should have it up and running in a few days.”
Dicks hums and curls his knees to his chest. The warmer it gets in the room, the more he starts to feel his eyes drooping. He gestures to the demon cat, which is curled up in the dip made by Tim’s legs. “What are you planning on doing with it?” Demon cat’s head is awkwardly hanging in the air thanks to the obstruction of its own horn, but it doesn’t seem to find the position uncomfortable.
“No idea. I called Zatanna to see if she had any advice. She said it’s probably from another dimension and its owner might come looking for it. Otherwise, she can try to send it back once she’s restored enough energy to do it.” Tim runs his hand down the demon cat’s spine and it starts to purr. “I guess I’ll keep it in the meantime. What should I name it?”
They both stare at the demon cat in silence until Dick gets an idea. “I think it should just be called Aparo since you found it at Aparo park.”
Tim smacks him on the shoulder. “Hey, good idea! I like that.”
“You should know that I always have the best ideas, Cindy,” Dick teases.
“Eh… debatable,” Tim says. “I wouldn’t necessarily classify your mullet as a good idea, Marcia.”
Dick smiles into the material of the couch. “You people don’t realize it was stylish at the time. Let me live free of judgment.”
They sit there grinning at each other. It reminds Dick of old times when they used to hang out. Back when it was just the two of them. It was easier for Dick to keep track of Tim’s life and to drop by to see him every now and then, but now his attention is constantly divided, especially with Damian in the mix of things. Still, it’s no excuse.
Tim heaves a loud sigh and carefully sets Aparo and the blanket to the side. “I’ve gotta go get a litter box and some food. Is it cool if it stays here while you sleep?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dick says. “Wait. Are you sure it’s not magical and going to zap me while I’m conked out? Maybe head butt me to death?”
Dick wishes he could take a picture of Tim’s lopsided frown and bug eyes. It’s a look only Tim can pull off. Dick would know. He’s tried replicating it multiple times in the bathroom mirror to no avail.
“First of all, let’s stop referring to Aparo as an it.” Tim grabs Aparo’s tail and lifts it up. “He’s a boy.” As soon as Tim takes his hand off, Aparo stretches his leg out further and licks it with enthusiasm. “He’s been acting like any other cat since I found him. You should be fine.”
Tim jams his feet back into his shoes. “I’ll just run down to the pet store. It’ll only take me an hour.” Before he can get the door open, Dick tosses him one of his beanies that he keeps in a basket by the door.
“Don’t want your pigtails to freeze, Cindy.”
“Thanks, Marcia, you’re a doll,” Tim drawls. There’s a grin on his face when he shuts the door.
Aparo meows and immediately jumps off the couch and slinks towards the door. His horns thump against the wood while he sniffs at where Tim had just been, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He just swats at the crack under the door and then looks at Dick with big green eyes when it doesn’t magically open for him. He meows again. Dick scoops him up with one hand and locks the door handle, leaving the more complicated locks undone so Tim can get back inside with his copy of Dick's key.
After getting a bowl of water from the kitchen, Dick places it on his bedroom floor and lets Aparo sniff around his room. The little guy is definitely curious and intent on checking out every nook and cranny. Dick can hear his horns scraping against the floor or bumping into objects. He thinks Aparo will be fine as long as he doesn’t get his horns jammed between a rock and hard place. That would be unfortunate.
“Alright Aparo,” Dick says as soon as he slides underneath his covers and turns off his bedside lamp. “Meow if you need me. But please don’t need me.” He lays his head down only to shoot back up a second later. “And don’t you dare pee on my Nightwing suit. Cleaning kevlar is not fun, believe it or not.” Aparo’s flickering tail is the only response he gets. Satisfied, Dick sinks back down into his soft mattress. His heavy eyelids sting with relief as soon as he closes them, even though his body is still sore and throbbing in places from the mission he finished earlier.
It’s only when Aparo decides to stop making noises and joins him on the bed that Dick is able to drift off.
Dick’s woken up and not been able to breathe before. It’s just, from past experiences, he usually isn’t in his boxers and being choked out by a skinny blonde girl while a lanky teenage boy in an oversized hoodie watches.
The weird thing, other than the fact that two teenagers somehow teleported into his room, is that the girl isn’t physically touching him. Her hand is reaching towards him, but there’s another force that has him pressed up to the wall, cutting off his air supply and making his muscles contract. There's not a doubt in his mind that magic is the cause of it. Only magic feels this warm and suffocating all at once.
Dick can tell the Sabrina look-a-like is asking him a question. He can’t hear her with the blood roaring in his ears, but he assumes it's about Aparo since she’s holding him in the crook of her other arm. He honestly didn’t think Aparo’s owners would be able to come for him. He supposes he should have prepared for a scenario where a pair of witches came after their demon cat before he went to bed.
A sharp sting at the base of his spine makes him want to curl his body away from the pain, but no matter how hard he tries to get his muscles to cooperate with him, they’re gridlocked. An even more tight, painful pressure is starting to form in his chest and his vision is starting to go black around the edges. He knows there’s probably spit and unintelligible grunts pooling out of his mouth. There’s nothing he can do to stop it. He’s effectively pinned to the wall like a frog being dissected and his body won’t respond to his desperate commands.
Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. He’s so hot, his body feels like it’s burning from the inside. His chest heaves, trying to take a lungful of air. Tight pressure gathers at his neck and forces his chest to drop back down with no relief. Black. Black. Fuzzy black static overtakes his vision. Can’t breathe. Can’t see. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.
A sound loud enough to pierce through the roaring in his ears is the last thing he’s aware of before the horrible pressure disappears abruptly. Dick feels himself falling forward, unable to catch himself. He feels his knees, head, and shoulders collide with the floor. He’s disoriented, dizzy. Still too hot. His mouth reflexively opens and sucks in warm air, heart jumping painfully in his chest.
He doesn’t know how long he lays there, soaking in the chilled floor and riding out the ringing in his ears as well as the ball bouncing around in his head. He feels disgustingly sweaty as if he just got off of patrol on a humid night. He’s also vaguely aware that his mouth is still open and that his spit is pooling around his face on the floor.
A hand falls between his shoulder blades. Dick twitches and tries to roll his uncooperative limbs away. It’s no use. They're all tingly and still feel like they’ve been replaced with gelatin.
“Hey… hey. It’s just me,” Tim says right by his ear. Dick groans in relief and blindly moves his forehead against Tim’s knee, effectively grounding him. He feels Tim rubbing circles on his back and he can’t help but shiver because of how cold his hand is. “Shh, I’ve got you. Take it slow, okay? Let your body relax.”
Dick can feel the slight tremor in Tim’s hand and he takes note of Tim's harsh breathing. It makes him want to tell Tim that he’s okay, that he’ll be fine in a few moments. The only problem is he seems to have lost his voice from the pressure inflicted around his neck. He settles for gripping Tim’s knee and giving it a few pats.
“Shit,” Tim whispers. His fingers briefly tangle in Dick’s hair and give a soft tug before they go back to rubbing circles. “I’m so sorry. This was completely my fault. I didn’t think Aparo’s owners would actually come, especially so soon. I should’ve planned that they’d be witches too. I mean, the horns should have been an obvious indicator of magic, right?” The circles no longer feel relaxing. Dick can feel the sweat building on Tim’s palm. “I shouldn’t have brought Aparo here, I should’ve taken him to my place. Then you wouldn’t have gotten—” he cuts himself off, fingers once again grazing Dick’s hairline.
They sit like that while Dick finishes catching his breath. His muscles ache and his throat hurts. Even so, the more he focuses on Tim’s clammy hand, the more concerned he is for him. When he finally feels strong enough to lift himself off the floor, he carefully drags himself into a kneeling position, noticing Tim’s trembling lip and the pinched skin between his brows. He places his hands on Tim’s shoulders and gives them a firm squeeze.
“Stop,” he says, voice scratchy and no louder than a whisper. “Not your fault. Didn’t know.” He coughs. “You did good. Saved me.”
Tim bites his lip. “We need to get your throat checked out. She probably damaged your vocal cords.”
Dick waves off his concern. “Later.”
He lifts his arms up and wiggles his fingers. Tim only hesitates for a second before he dives in and presses his face into Dick’s shoulder. Tim's nose, cold from the outside winds, makes Dick shiver. Dick rocks them back and forth, making sure to give Tim a firm squeeze and multiple back pats. The poor kid needs it after having to watch him nearly die.
“Aparo gone?” Dick asks, making sure to speak right by Tim’s ear. He still can’t go louder than a whisper.
Tim’s head bobs against his collarbone. “Yeah. As soon as I barged in, the girl told me she was here for him. Screamed at me for stealing him. I didn’t have time to explain because you were… you know.”
Dick hums in confirmation.
“Anyways, after I kicked her into your mirror, she dropped you. Then they took off with Aparo.”
Looking over Tim’s shoulder, he can see that the mirror on his closet door is shattered. He assumes that was the sound he heard before he was released from the pressure hold.
Dick finally pulls back so that they’re at eye level. “I’ll get you another cat. Knit him a pair of horns.”
Tim smiles a little. “That’s a terrible idea. Damian would get jealous and you’d have to make all his animals little clothes.”
“You forget,” Dick says, “I always have the best ideas, Cindy.”
“I think you sit on a throne of lies, Marcia.”
“How dare you quote Elf at me in October.”
That finally gets a laugh out of Tim, much to Dick’s relief. He’s glad he can still do something right by his little brother, even if it is just chasing off the monsters in his head for a brief moment.