metalogs | [OPEN] When the cure's as bad as the cold.

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[OPEN] When the cure's as bad as the cold.

Who: Tim Drake

mostdangerousbird
What: Robin is lovingly and semi-willingly forced to get out of Central City to ~~get 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.

(Ha^HAhaHA_hA)

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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Tim's in bed, but not asleep, and there isn't supposed to be anyone at his window in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere. If his name was Juliet, and Romeo wanted to throw some pebbles at his window, fine, but he would know if an idiot boy was going to do that.

He slides out from under the covers on the far side of the bed, dropping softly to the floor. Slips under the bed, grabbing the knife he's borrowed from the kitchen along the way - he keeps it under the bed rather than under the pillow, it's not worrying - and comes out the other side. Tim presses his back to the wall besides the window and keeps himself flattened to the plaster as he stands, letting his back drag upwards.

And waits. ]

[There's one more set of taps, more insistent this time. After that there's nothing.

Then, in the darkest corner of Tim's room, the shadows begin to silently... shift. They warp unnaturally until they start coming together. A shape forms, amorphous at first, before becoming more and more humanoid. Any features are impossible to see but its silhouette is barely visible in the meager light of the moon.

Some sort of pitch-black creature, shorter than Tim, with horns on its head and some sort of... tattered wings dragging behind its back. He can't make out anything more than that.

The thing takes a silent step forward.]

[ The difference between the deep grey black of the unlit bedroom and the pure black of the thing is apparent.

Think. Darkness is likely not an advantage. Is light? Indeterminate. Kon and Bart wouldn’t come in like this. Handle it? Warn them? Too dark to be the Joker. Disable and warn.

The thought process is rapid, and Tim’s free hand grabs the nearest thing it can - the alarm clock and whips it at the wall where he knows the light switch is while lunging at the figure. It will all happen at once, getting within strike range, the lights kicking on, and the intended warning cry of “Breach!” to the other occupants if he isn’t silenced. ]

[The thing moves almost before Tim does, as if it's anticipated what he's going to do.

It lunges forward. A clawed hand extends to the snatch the alarm clock out of the air only a moment after it leaves Tim's hand. It closes with Tim and gently, but firmly, puts a hand over his mouth.]

Shhh. [It sounds like an order.

Now that it's so close, the figure's features become barely visible. Hollowed out eyes and a stitched up mouth.]

Tim. [The voice is familiar. A bit raspy, as if not well-used. Soft and harsh in equal measure.]

[ Cass.

He should’ve known. She’d even told him that she’d teleported - who else could it possibly have been?

She’d handled two of the three issues- the lights were still off, and Tim hadn’t been able to shout out and alarm two extremely overprotective metahumans. The knife, though - she’d seen Tim had pulled the strike just before it was too late, or she’d known he would at his name. Probably both.

Tim raises his eyebrows in the dark and doesn’t move away from the hand over his mouth. He eases both hands up. His right hand, loosely gripping the handle of the santoku so that it limply hangs down towards the ground. His left flashes three signs. Hi. You okay? ]

[Cass didn't know if Tim would pull the strike in time. She knew he wouldn't be aiming for anything lethal. She can handle stabbing. Keeping him quiet was the... goal. Priority.

She doesn't know what the hand gestures mean. But she knows what he's asking. He's concerned-relieved-are-you-okay?

She nods.

Now that she knows he's not going to shout, she removes her hand. Sets down the clock. Steps back to look at him.

He looks... bad. Not very injured... but bad. Hurt-scared-exposed-restless. Vulnerable. Trapped.]

Hey.

[ Whether she could even clearly see the sign language in the dark, Tim wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. It’s about focusing the intent for Cass to read clearly amongst everything.

If she understands more - and she will, that’s fine. In the meantime, Tim gets the answer he needs, too.

Tim steps away from her hand and crosses the room the door. He stands there, listening for any audible signs of Kon and Bart being roused. His hand hovers over the light switch like he’s afraid to hit it, now that there’s no fight.

He doesn’t. If the Guild has cameras in this room that Tim couldn’t find, he doesn’t want to make it easier to record her. ]

We have to keep it down. Kon and Bart have been taking security very seriously.

[ It’s barely a whisper, because Tim is keenly aware of Kon’s super-hearing. He would like to have five minutes of unscrutinized conversation. He shouldn’t be trying to have it with Cass, though. ]

Did you mean to teleport in my room, or is it still happening at whim rather than at will?

[ She’s here because of the power. If she’s here to judge his condition, Tim is largely healed, and didn’t he just demonstrate that he’s still in form? That certainly wasn’t a wrong response for someone being in his room. ]

Took a train. [She wanted to feel the wind. It had been... a while since she rode a train. It was nice. Gave her time to... feel.]

You didn't open the window. I didn't want to break the lock. [She points at the window.]

So I... moved. [She still doesn't... understand it. But it felt more in-control this time. She felt more in control]

I didn't open the window because I wasn't expecting anyone to be at the window. This isn't Steph's apartment, or Dick's - it's a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere with no fire escape.

[ While he appreciates that she didn't mean to alarm him, she very much did, and Tim wants to make sure that this exact set of circumstances isn't repeated. ]

And you're in costume, when I'm here as Tim. Bart's in the Guardian Alliance. There has to be a clear distinction.

[ He still hasn't turned the light on. Doesn't know if he should. He could offer her clothes, but if she came as Batgirl and leaves as Cass, would that be suspicious? Would anyone notice? Is anyone even watching? ]

[Cass nods. She's... bad at sep-are-rating being in and out of the uniform. Doesn't think about it the same way.

Tim has probably noticed there's no bat-symbol on her chest. It's the same outfit he gave her in Hong Kong, she just... changed it. Wasn't sure if she wanted the symbol. Still isn't sure.

She rolls her eyes under the mask.]

No one saw me.

[She's sure. She thinks... her able-itly to move gave her some thing else. When she's in darkness no one sees her. Not if she doesn't want them to. There has to be... intense-- no, intent-- to be seen.

She didn't mean to make him nervous-unsure. That's not why she's here.]

[ He hasn't noticed. The room is still dark, and he's still sloppy around the edges. Paranoia only carries you so far, and Tim is inclined to trust Cass. A teleporting Cassandra Cain could have killed him already, if she wanted to. ]

No one saw you yet.

[ Tim doesn't mean to correct her - he is certainly not in charge, here in this house or elsewhere, but he will absolutely backseat drive. ]

I can't keep you hidden in the guestroom indefinitely. You're going to need the bathroom and food, if you stay. What if one of Bart's friends show up while you're making Pop-Tarts?

[Cass smiles. Tim is already worrying about things. Trying to plan. It's nice of him. No one saw her. No one will see her. She's better than that.]

I'm not staying.

[Pop-Tarts are tempting... but no. She has a mission.]

[ Ah. Tim takes a leap at the likely conclusion. ]

So this is you checking up on me.

[ It’s not hurt or malicious; it’s blunt. He can be blunt with Cass. She knows when you’re beating around the bush before you even speak. It’s freeing.

There are other options, of course. Maybe she personally doesn’t want to stay, but Tim feels that’s unlikely given that she came out here in the first place. It could be an emergency, but she’d be pulling him out the window already and/or telling him to get Superboy.

No, he’s fairly secure in the decision that this is strictly an in-person wellness check because Cass knows that Tim wouldn’t have a video chat with her until he’d gotten over what happened. ]

[Close guess.]

Nope. [She pops the 'p'.

Then she reaches a hand out to him and uses her head to gesture to the window.]

Jailbreak.

[Tim is getting restless. He's hurt-inside but not outside. He needs to move. To leave. Staying here-- being trapped-- it will start hurting him more.

She doesn't want him to hurt anymore.]

[ He's instantly interested. Tim isn't trapped here, not really, but he's felt the weight of assumed expectations. They aren't forcibly keeping him here, but Tim has been trying to get them to stop worrying for him. If he hasn't made his case, asking them to take him back to Central City will be met with judgment.

Bruce, on the other hand - he's asked Bruce's blessing to return to his normal work and been refused. But Bruce isn't here, and Tim has never done well with indefinitely listening to him when he's being unreasonable.

But here's Cass, for a jailbreak. It's unreasonably tempting, and Tim is still suffering through his bout of unreasonableness.

(Trauma-induced, and likely why Bruce wants him to take a longer break.)

Tim finally turns on the light and starts throwing what clothes he's brought into his bag. Almost immediately stops. Looks at the door. ]

I should tell them.

[ It's almost a question. ]

[Cass shrugs.

Probably a good idea. Don't want Tim's friends to think he's been kidnapped... again.]

Leave a note?

[It's not like they'll be sup-rised. It's... more sup-rising he hasn't left already.

What's that phrase? Better to be forgiven than ask permission?]

[ Kon has to have heard them by now. He’s already admitted to Tim that he’s been listening to Tim’s heartbeat all over the farm and can tell the difference in rhythms when Tim’s had too much caffeine.

Tim grabs a pen and paper and starts jotting down a note -

Guys

And that’s as far as he gets. Every possible way of explaining feels like he’s not appreciative of their support or lying about “wanting to get out” when he wouldn’t intend on coming back.

So he’s effectively stuck. Tim’s vanished before, but without a good reason, sneaking out in the middle of the night seems rude. Even if Kon does know. ]

B has my costume. I can’t go with you like this.

[ Blame that, rather than his own guilty feelings. ]

[Cass raises an eyebrow. He wants to leave, but doesn't. Feels bad. Wants to leave but needs an excuse, or maybe wants to stay but needs an excuse.

No costume. That's... frustration. No-- frustrating.]

I can... move you with me. Go somewhere without eyes. I'll change and you won't need your suit then.

[If Superboy was going to stop them he already would. Tim has a good reason for leaving. He wants to. Needs to. His friends know him-- know who he is. And they'll be able to find him.]

Do you want to stay?

I don’t know.

[ This is the same decision as ever: how to Tim and Robin into the same time, space, body. Cass is oversimplifying it by acting like it’s a simple question of ‘do you want to stay’.

Of course he wants to stay. His friends are here, with offers of cocoa and non-threatening hugs. The reassurance that he’s trying to sleep down the hall from two people who could probably crack the world like an egg if it was necessary. They’re doing their best to help him through this, and he’s getting close to six hours sleep now. The fresh country air is only a little stifling.

He wants to leave. He’s missing a part of himself here. It’s the uniform, but more than that. It’s the purpose, the satisfaction of striving for perfection and being thorough resulting in success.

Tim wants both and that’s the one thing he can have. He can try to split the difference, anyway.

Guys -

I’ve gone out with Cass. There’s a not insignificant chance that “going out” means going back to Central City, but that will be a last minute decision.

I’ve got my phone. I’ll either be back before you read this or I’ll text you before ~~you wake up~~ before I go to bed.

Tim

He offers her the pen and notepad. ]

Do something I wouldn’t do and sign it, so they don’t think I went off alone.

[He thinks Robin and Tim are separate. That they have to be.

They don't-- they aren't. But he won't hear that. Doesn't know how to believe it.

She takes the pen carefully, like it could explode at any moment.

Writing. Ugh.

In slightly shaky but meticulously uniform letters she writes a note of her own.]

gone ~~dir~~birdwatching

XOXO cass

[(She thinks she's hilarious.)

She doesn't bother reading what Tim wrote. Too much effort. He's probably half-lying anyway. Trying to make his friends feel better. He always tries to make everyone feel better.

She hands the pen back.]

Ready?

Edited 2022-08-19 20:04 (UTC)

[ Again hesitance. Again, a glance to the door. But nobody's stopped him, so maybe it's not as big a deal as he's making it out to be, in his head.

And Cass came all this way to spring him, which is every bit as touching as his friends' concern with less constraints. Tim shoulders the bag. ]

Yeah. How does this work?

[Cass shrugs. Looks around the room. Finds the darkest corner of the room. She grabs his wrist and guides him toward it.

When the reach the shadows she stops, takes a breath, and steps in. Yanks Tim forward.

It feels... cold. And almost like running through cobwebs. But it's there-and-gone and when Cass finishes her step, her foot lands on pavement. It was a smooth motion for her. Tim's wrist is still in her hand.

Good. She wasn't sure that would work.

They've landed behind a gas station she scouted earlier in Little Love, in a place out of sight of any cameras.

She lets go and turns to Tim. She wants to see how he's doing.]

[ Not every power is pleasant to travel by. In fact, Tim’s hard-pressed to think of a single means of travelling under someone else’s steam that’s entirely comfortable. Kon’s, maybe, if he’s using his tactile telekinesis to support Tim’s weight and keeping under 200 mph.

So he’s had experience with the disorientation and vague nausea that comes with superspeed and teleportation. Tim keeps his feet, but rubs his sternum to combat the cold, constricting sensation in his chest. Looks around, trying to place the location.

It’s fairly dark away from the front of the station’s convenience store, and he’s unfamiliar with the area, but he knows there’s no building that matches this in line of sight from Bart’s.

This power of Cass’s is good for more than sneaking in bedrooms. ]

How far out did you take us? Do you even know? Are we still in Kansas, Dorothy?

[Cass takes off her mask.]

Gas station in town. No cameras, I checked.

[She unzips her batsuit to reveal her practical under-clothes: a sports bro and a pair of biker shorts. Nothing immodest.]

Still in Kansas, Toto.

[She doesn't say that she hasn't... brought someone along before. Or gone that far.

She grabs a small black backpack from behind the building's dumpster, opens it, and slips on a thin sweatshirt. Puts her suit inside.

She's getting better at this... "planning" thing.]

[ Tim gives her some privacy while she changes, but mainly it's because he's creeping up to the corner of the building to listen for anyone around the other side. ]

For now, Dorothy.

[ They're alone, and now that she's out of the suit, there's less to worry about. He still doesn't want anyone to bump into the two of them behind a gas station. ]

How many jumps do you think it will take until we're at the train?

[OPEN] When the cure's as bad as the cold.

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