Chapter Text
Tim was a dreamer. He had life goals and all, but he was a dreamer. His mind came alive as he slept. Sometimes they were short, bursts of images that passed from one memory to another. Other times, Tim's dreams became whole movies in which he starred as the main character. Dreams so vivid and lucid that the memories from his brain's creations could leach into reality. A conversation he had with Dick discussing a new tactic to track Joker's goons only to mention it while working in the Batcave and realize their talk had never happened. Like any Wayne, some dreams bloomed into nightmares of past traumas and horrific what-if scenarios. Tonight's dream, fortunately, had yet to take that turn.
Currently banned from patrols, the Bat computer, and caffeine by Alfred because of his recent concussion, though he tried to argue four days was enough recovery time for a "minor head injury", Tim lay in his bed dead asleep unusually early. From the door where Bruce checks on him, he is sleeping calmly, but inside Tim's mind is conjuring its newest story.
Tim is running, not just running, chasing. Chasing a shadow. The dark forest is only lit by a half-full moon, making the blur of movement he is pursuing even harder to track. He is not in Red Robin gear so no help from his tech. Tim is pretty sure he is still barefooted in only his pajama pants but his interest in this creature steals too much of his attention. Whatever he is chasing, it is evasive and smart. The slight glow it gives off may be the only thing keeping Tim from losing track of it completely. It whips between and around trees faster than physically possible. It seems to float off the ground instead of running. Tim only stops his pursuit at the edge of a clearing where the being has stilled in the center. The space is too perfect to be natural. Trees line the grass in a perfect circle and not a single plant pokes out from the grass. Too clean and crisp. Tim can see his breath fog in the cold air. It only seems to get colder and colder. He can now make out the figure facing away from him. The slight tinge of blue and green radiating off of the figure is so intriguing. Tim takes a careful step forward into the circle and the beings head whips around. Glowing green eyes are the last thing he sees before he is ripped from the dream. Tim is left heavy breathing and heart pounding, attempting to shake off the sheer terror he experienced upon making eye contact with the visitor in his dream.
He was eventually lulled back to sleep by exhaustion, waking without another dream. Now he has to go to school and work still thinking about those green eyes.