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metalogs2022-07-24 01:23 pm
mostdangerousbird) wrote in metalogs2022-07-24 01:23 pm
[OPEN] When the cure's as bad as the cold.
Who: Tim Drakemostdangerousbird
What: Robin is lovingly and semi-willingly forced to get out of Central City toget the fuck out of Joker's way recuperate in Little Love
When: Approximately July 4-20ish
Where: In and around Little Love, and the guild residence of Bart Allen
Content Warnings: Possible discussion of the Joker, assault, and mental health.
[ OOC: These are meant to be loose scenarios rather than absolutely precise starters. If you can't figure out a way to bounce off one of them, please let me know and I'll do something more direct for you. ]
The First 72 Hours
[ He is a predictably bad patient, made worse by the fact that his body's newfound ability to heal has him semi-mobile even before he's even brought to Little Love. Tim isn't trying to consciously self-sabotage the healing process, but he hasn't let himself fall asleep since he got here, although he knows that he'd heal more if he did. The ibuprofen and caffeine supplies are going down quickly, when no one's looking.
Retreats to the guestroom are strategic, and Tim doesn't bother to pretend otherwise to friends. Any excuses would result in offerings of alternative solutions or arguments, and he wants neither.
What he wants is distraction or escape from his own head. When all else fails, he wants to curl up where he can't be observed. For the first few days, Tim swings unpredictably between the two.
If it's the former, he can be found anywhere on the grounds of Bart's little farm at all hours. While he'll stick close to the house, he won't run inside if someone drops by for a visit. He won't run anywhere, actually, because Tim's trying to mask the limp, but he also won't resist any idea or hug. He's using up all of his spoons on covering up the worst of the damage: everything else is pliant drifting through the day. ]
Day 3-10
[ Tim is increasingly feeling cooped up. Yes, worse than the chickens. Yes, he gets it - he's a birdie too, ha ha.
(HaHAhaHAhA)
He can't sit still, and so spends a lot of time walking around Little Love, now that he's healed enough to not limp. Most of the time, there's at least one friend with him, but not always. The town is fine, in a stereotypically small Midwest town sort of way. He's never lived anywhere where the downtown was practically one intersection, and the houses are all singles. The tall building is 5 stories, and a bunch of side streets don't have a sidewalk.
Really, he feels a bit like Spock on an away mission, especially when he encounters a buckeye at the local greasy spoon, or that the bakery is closed on the weekends. Huh. The library, too, is so much smaller than he's used to, although the librarian is kind enough to offer to get the books in from the big branch in the nearest city.
Maybe you find him looking perplexed, as a farmer tries to explain why the cornfield on the right side of the street is superior to the left side.
Maybe you find him reading and re-reading a flier for a kegger on the riverbank with an increasingly furrowed brow.
Maybe you try to forcibly piggy-back him home because he hasn't slept in 32 hours over his protests that, really, this is not necessary. ]
Day 11-14
[ But after awhile, Tim is just done with this town and desperately seeking a signal that it's safe to go back to Central City, where he can get espresso at 2 am and no one will judge him.
He's still venturing out, but more time is spent aggressively typing away at something on his laptop rather than making friends with the locales. Back to the wall, privacy film on the screen, one key window-swapping sort of typing. His conversations increasingly revolve around when he gets home and how he's starting to feel like taking this much vacation will lead more work when he returns. ]
mostdangerousbird What: Robin is lovingly and semi-willingly forced to get out of Central City to
When: Approximately July 4-20ish
Where: In and around Little Love, and the guild residence of Bart Allen
Content Warnings: Possible discussion of the Joker, assault, and mental health.
[ OOC: These are meant to be loose scenarios rather than absolutely precise starters. If you can't figure out a way to bounce off one of them, please let me know and I'll do something more direct for you. ]
The First 72 Hours
[ He is a predictably bad patient, made worse by the fact that his body's newfound ability to heal has him semi-mobile even before he's even brought to Little Love. Tim isn't trying to consciously self-sabotage the healing process, but he hasn't let himself fall asleep since he got here, although he knows that he'd heal more if he did. The ibuprofen and caffeine supplies are going down quickly, when no one's looking.
Retreats to the guestroom are strategic, and Tim doesn't bother to pretend otherwise to friends. Any excuses would result in offerings of alternative solutions or arguments, and he wants neither.
What he wants is distraction or escape from his own head. When all else fails, he wants to curl up where he can't be observed. For the first few days, Tim swings unpredictably between the two.
If it's the former, he can be found anywhere on the grounds of Bart's little farm at all hours. While he'll stick close to the house, he won't run inside if someone drops by for a visit. He won't run anywhere, actually, because Tim's trying to mask the limp, but he also won't resist any idea or hug. He's using up all of his spoons on covering up the worst of the damage: everything else is pliant drifting through the day. ]
Day 3-10
[ Tim is increasingly feeling cooped up. Yes, worse than the chickens. Yes, he gets it - he's a birdie too, ha ha.
(HaHAhaHAhA)
He can't sit still, and so spends a lot of time walking around Little Love, now that he's healed enough to not limp. Most of the time, there's at least one friend with him, but not always. The town is fine, in a stereotypically small Midwest town sort of way. He's never lived anywhere where the downtown was practically one intersection, and the houses are all singles. The tall building is 5 stories, and a bunch of side streets don't have a sidewalk.
Really, he feels a bit like Spock on an away mission, especially when he encounters a buckeye at the local greasy spoon, or that the bakery is closed on the weekends. Huh. The library, too, is so much smaller than he's used to, although the librarian is kind enough to offer to get the books in from the big branch in the nearest city.
Maybe you find him looking perplexed, as a farmer tries to explain why the cornfield on the right side of the street is superior to the left side.
Maybe you find him reading and re-reading a flier for a kegger on the riverbank with an increasingly furrowed brow.
Maybe you try to forcibly piggy-back him home because he hasn't slept in 32 hours over his protests that, really, this is not necessary. ]
Day 11-14
[ But after awhile, Tim is just done with this town and desperately seeking a signal that it's safe to go back to Central City, where he can get espresso at 2 am and no one will judge him.
He's still venturing out, but more time is spent aggressively typing away at something on his laptop rather than making friends with the locales. Back to the wall, privacy film on the screen, one key window-swapping sort of typing. His conversations increasingly revolve around when he gets home and how he's starting to feel like taking this much vacation will lead more work when he returns. ]
no subject
[He does have faith that even when Bats handles things badly, even if there are maybe things he should've done differently, he does care about Tim.]
Nobody - and I mean, nobody, not even Bats - thinks you're gonna walk away from this and start randomly shooting drug lords. Nobody.
And you know I've seen the worst of us, Tim. That future we needed to stop. But the Titans chose to stay together and kept choosing to be something else.
[He knows that kind of thing is probably weighing on Tim, worries about who he could be. Worry others might assume he's going down that path.]
It's a choice.
There's a difference between benching you because people think you're gonna make some bad choices, and wanting you to cool it a little so you have space and time to cope. You deserve that space and time.
You didn't fail and this isn't punishment. This isn't anyone thinking you're going to lose it. We just want you to have a space to, like, be, without feeling like you have to hold it together for everyone.
[He takes his hand gently in his own, hoping Tim lets him.]
Because we can see you doing it. The holding it together. And we just want you to know can stop now, if you need to for a little while. Because you never give yourself permission to do that.
[He reaches his free hand up towards his cheek, to brush his fingers there. If Tim lets him do it.]
[He isn't thinking about it consciously. He just wants...wants to be close. To touch, to comfort, to try to pass on how much he cares through his fingertips because it feels like words aren't enough.]
no subject
Sure, he doesn't have to. Kon's right. Tim could ease up and give himself space to ... to what? To experience the damage? He did that. To emotionally process it? He's trying. He thought he was trying, but the touch on his cheek is making him feel watery. A touch panicked, too, but he angled his head and got the hand further away from his jaw. It's fine. He's fine. He can be comforted and not lose it.
Tim feels like a water balloon that's sprung a leak. No, that's already sprung several leaks and had them plugged with duct tape. Now there's a new one, and he's out of duct tape and deflating slowly through his tear ducts. ]
I don't like how it makes me feel.
[ That should be a surprise to no one, and he knows it won't surprise Kon. It will be of so little surprise that he might even cock an eyebrow sarcastically. No, really, Robin doesn't like to be seen as weak, unwell, or undisciplined? Surely that's not why they're having this conversation. ]
I ... might be a bit of a control freak.
[ Please laugh at the understatement at his expense. Make this feel normal. ]
no subject
Bit of an understatement.
[Tim's not pulling away but Kon doesn't force things by touching his jaw. If Tim's not recoiling but wants the touch to be more on his upper cheek, he lets him decide the angle.]
And I know you don't like how it feels to not be in control of your feelings, like, at all times. But it's helped you to let go a little in the past.
So if it's a situation where nobody's gonna judge you for it and you have a place it's safe to, if it feels like there's something there...
[And he emphasizes the fact it is there by wiping away a tear with his thumb.]
It's not really letting go of control if you control where and when it happens.
Because it is there, Tim.
But it's safe to let it out and let it go. Bart's here to watch your back.
[He brushes his thumb against Tim's cheek and his voice brims with emotion.]
And you're safe with me.
no subject
He’s not being judged. He has to keep echoing himself to not argue. The act of wiping away a tear - he doesn’t want this kind of attention and recognition. Yet Bart and Kon make this safe. He’s safe. He knows this - that’s part of why he let himself be carried off to Kansas. If he’s comprised, his friends are the best protection he could ask for.
Seeing the tear on Kon’s thumb gently pushes Tim off the emotional cliff that he’s been dancing along and falls into tears with the same slow motion surprise as if he’d missed a landing and had to save himself from the drop.
Tim doesn’t save himself, though. There’s no grappling hook, no ledges to catch on to. A steady stream of tears is accompanied by his throat feeling thick and a trembling struggle to keep his face from contorting into ugly sobs. ]
I want to be fine. I want to stop reacting to it. It keeps bleeding into everything. The bat, the touch, the chair - I hear…
[ Him. Laughing. It’s there on the edges of everything. He can camouflage it under thought exercises, distractions, analyzing the geometric patterns in a quilt if there’s nothing else to do quietly in the night. He can’t course correct away from crying; he’s going to cry until the lacrimal glands give up from exhaustion.
He wants comfort, but can’t articulate that properly aloud or in his thoughts. He wishes Dick were here, or Alfred or his parents, and chides himself for being foolish. Most of them are dead and will not be coming with tea and a hair ruffle. Tim’s arms cross low over his stomach, hands gripping his sides in an unconscious hug. ]
no subject
[One hand pets the hair on the back of his head.]
It'll eventually fade so it's less intense. It'll just take time.
[Sensations due to trauma fade. Kon has almost forgotten how it felt for Tim wrist bones to crush in his hand like chalk. He's almost forgotten the loud shredding crunch of Cyborg's metal body as he ripped parts of it apart. He's almost forgotten the feeling of Cassie's face being slammed by his knuckles.]
Usually you're able to push past stuff like this but this one was...extra bad. It makes sense that there's more that's involuntary. But it'll pass. In the meantime just venting the feelings will help. Crying's good for you if you're hurting. It does a bunch of stuff to help your brain.
That's, like, science.
[He's actually not wrong.]
Sometimes, if something hurts and it's too big to shove in a box, letting yourself feel it is how you can work through and let it go.
no subject
He's not, and he knows he's not. ]
I'm sorry.
[ He has to be getting Kon's shirt wet, leaning his head forward against him like this. ]
How do you keep - I don't know how to let anything go. It's not always a bad thing.
no subject
[It's just a soggy shirt. His entire shirt could get soaked in tears and snot and it'd be worth it if it helped Tim vent out some of the things he's feeling somewhere.]
And you're right, you not letting things go isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes you're like Krypto with his favorite manhole cover and people can't pry you off some kind of problem you're fixated on solving.
And then you solve it. And it helps someone.
Your brain just kinda works like that.
[He knows him and how that kind of fixation while not exactly always healthy, is an important part of his method. It's the detective, refusing to give up on finding leads for a case.]
[It saves lives and lets Tim do the work, walk the path he finds so important.]
And I know it sounds totally crazy and counterproductive but the way through is... is just feeling it and not treating it like a problem to be solved.
He needs to be found, sure, but that's different from the stuff going on in your head, because he could be stopped tomorrow and you'd still be feeling stuff you had to deal with.
So you let the bad stuff vent out as long as you need to and eventually something in your brain will decide it's time to make room for something else. For the good stuff again.
[On a general basis, he is not exactly Mr. Feelings. It had to do with that whole macho persona he'd put on when he was younger, in imitation of what he thought being cool and adult was.]
[But it was always very false. It means a lot of people don't know how perceptive he can be.]
[Sometimes he forgets it.]
No one ever tells you that it's normal to grieve for a little bit after getting hurt really bad just like you do when you lose someone. But it is, if you got messed with bad enough.
It's normal to feel like you lost something because you've lost being the person that didn't know how that particular bad thing felt. But that doesn't mean you'll never feel good again, either.
[He still hasn't let go. He's still hugging him, even if he's loosened his grip a little.]
no subject
That should be more insulting, but Krypto’s a good dog.
[ So it’s kind of flattering, really. Tim gets that it’s meant to be a silly positive, and it buoys him. Floats him past all the things he hasn’t solved yet - how to sleep through the night, why they’re here in this other universe, why the Alliance rubs him the wrong way, why he can’t stop crying even though Kon got him to laugh. It drifts past him and doesn’t drag him down in an eddy. ]
I’m feeling it. I can’t stop feeling it, that’s the problem.
[ All this talk about solving things has him thinking about reducing the problem down to something he’s dealt with before. Dissecting the hurt to deal with the more manageable chunks.
He’s felt like he’d never be the same again… oh, so many times now. How did he fix it then? Throwing himself into a pair of tights to work through it, which no one’s letting him do. Lockjawing on the grief until the universe gave him back just enough for it to be manageable again. Luck. Running away.
That’s not a piece he can fix. Nor is the Joker. He’s failing at this, and he hates it. ]
I know that’s the point you’re trying to make, but I don’t know how to do what you’re asking. Even when my dad died, I had work to do. I spent weeks building the Eddie Drake persona. I didn’t just sit on a farm feeling -
[ Something clicks and he shuts up, instantly. He’s gone too far. He’s an idiot. Kon’s gotten through the worst times of his life on farms. Tim scrubs his face and breaks the hug. ]
I’m sorry. I’m bad at Kansas. It’s probably the best place for the majority of people; I’m the outlier.
no subject
[It's said with the slightest of smiles, and he only does it because Tim managed a little laugh himself.]
I know it's easier for you to work past stuff when you have your normal routine. You are absolutely a creature of habit.
...Of weird, weird 3 am habit.
But we figured it'd be good for you to be here the first few days just because it'd be safe and quiet.
Because you have to take care of the basics first.
[A good cry, eating some food, finally sleeping. The first few most important things to get his equilibrium back.]
Alongside venting this a little, you also need to sleep, Tim. Trying to stay up forever is going to make it harder for your brain to get its equilibrium back, too.
[He withdraws enough to look him in the eyes, the picture of sincerity.]
If you want, I could stay with you.
[He knows what's behind the hesitation. Fear of nightmares but also fear of letting his guard down. Fear he'll wake up back with the Joker.]
[So his answer to that is offering to be his shield.]
Nothing's gonna happen, but even if something magically found us, I could throw my teke around you, too. In a heartbeat.
I mean...we have to share a bed back at our place anyway.
no subject
Because he really wants an escape. Enough that he fully steps away. And that's... maybe a habit, too. Certainly a tell. ]
I sleep when I'm tired.
[ He's exhausted and has been bone tired for at least 12 hours. ]
I pull all-nighters a lot. This is me being a creature of habit.
[ True, but consistently a bad habit that is probably the worst thing he does to himself. It's just worse right now - how can he let himself sleep if it means having to feel that burst of panic when he wakes up? It happened so many times that it's spiking his anxiety considering it, or maybe considering the offer is doing it.
The studio at the Lofts came with one bed - that makes sharing a necessity. A cost-saving measure when they can't get decent jobs without enlisting and Tim needs money for gear. Sharing without a good reason (and being afraid of the dark is, to him, a poor excuse) is. Suspect. Both because it makes him look weak and, well, because eventually he's going to be honest with his friends. Everything's going to look different, then, and he doesn't want to give Kon reasons to be uncomfortable or feel mislead.
He wanted an escape from thoughts about the Joker: this was i not what he would have picked. ]
You should sleep in your own room while you have it. I'm used to having my own room.
no subject
[He shakes his head.] You need to cut off the caffeine so you actually get tired enough to sleep. You're exhausted but trying to stay revved artificially.
What if someone just stays in the room with you? If they don't sleep, too, they can chill and read a book or play video games or something. Anyone you want. If you want it to be Cass or Bats or anyone else, we can call them and figure that out. Or we can take shifts if you don't want one of us there the whole time.
[He knows Tim doesn't like being the cause of anyone feeling put out. He figures having it so one person doesn't sacrifice a whole night (or day, if that's when he crashes) might make it easier to accept.]
Or one of us can chill outside your room.
Or something else. You can tell me what'll help you sleep.
[His expression is serious.]
This is non-negotiable, Tim. We don't plan to wrap you in cotton and make you stay here forever, but you need to get at least one good nights' sleep before you leave.
Because we know you. You're going to go right back to work and you can't risk going out there while you're this exhausted. Especially with him around. Especially since I know you'll be trying to find him.
no subject
[ Ruling them out means that there’s some he’d rule in. Why did he respond so quickly? He didn’t - he shouldn’t have excluded them. It only highlights that he’s trying to hide. ]
I was counting on the decision being taken out of my hands soon.
[ Eventually, his body would simply give up. Willpower and caffeine can only take him so far. He would pass out, heal, possibly sleep. Whether it happened on the couch or in the barnyard really didn’t make a difference to him, as long as he didn’t have to be a willing participant.
He’s only admitting this because he’s working up to acquiescing. ]
I’ve been trying to get ahead of the research. Mapping possible locations that would draw him out. It’s harder here - nothing to constrain him to Gotham, different geography and places of interest. Plus, I’m stuck doing it all on my phone whenever I can get a signal, because I can’t search it on Bart’s wifi, so it’s more of a thought exercise…
[ This is more life than he’s shown during the whole conversation, and he quickly runs out of steam. Can’t lock his jaw from opening up in a gaping yawn. That drags on for three seconds.
Despite his protests, Tim would like someone to be there when he wakes up. To tell him he’s safe, and maybe keep him from jumping out a window to escape people that aren’t here. His friends will never be as reassuring as Alfred, but… they’re here. ]
You or Bart. Whoever was planning to do nothing today, just read or chill. If you both had plans, that’s fine. I’m fine.