Batman Fic: Skinless
Aug. 29th, 2010 08:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imasupermuteantTitle: Skinless
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Parings: Mentions of Tim/Kon
Wordcount: 842
Rating: PG
Warnings: Sex pollen, angst, unashamed lack of continuity
Summary:
They find him huddled in the back of the cave, by the cars, wearing his mask and the belt (as per Bat Commandment #6: Never loose the belt) and nothing else. He's sweating bullets, his skin reddened and, Dick suspects, cold to the touch. He's shaking too, not shivering so much as twitching individual sections of skin like a horse on a particularly buggy day.
"Stop!" He shouts when Dick moves closer.
"Tim." There's a protocol for this, and Dick is using it to his best ability, sinking into a low crouch and keeping his voice low and calm. It doesn't seem to be working very well.
"Don't come closer." Tim says in a voice that would, on any other teenager, seem calm. "I've already been compromised."
Tim drags his hand along his arm and Dick notices a collection of long, red welts which must have been caused by his nails. He feels a little sick to his stomach at the realization that Tim's skin isn't red because of a fever, as he had surmised, but because the kid's been clawing and rubbing at his skin for who knows how long.
"That's right Tim." He says steadily, for all that the flash of Tim's dilated pupils strikes him with fear, "You've been compromised. You need to let me sedate you so we can counteract the drug in your system."
"Unfeasible. You don't know where I've been." Tim responds, Dick notes the further descent in to paranoia and the fact that Tim's eyes are tracking in a manner that makes Dick want to reach out and grab him. He knows that's not the right move. The drug in Tim's system, whatever the hell it is, has put his reaction-time and physical strength far above his normal basal rate. A sudden move on Dick's part could trigger Tim into a movement that would tear his muscles or put him into cardiac arrest.
Dick breathes and waits while Tim scratches at his forearms and twitches.
"I ruined it." Tim tells him, meeting his eyes for a millisecond before blinking down to the floor, "It's broken."
"Tim, you need to calm down."
"I broke it, Dick!" Tim shouts, reaching up to tear a handful of hair out by the roots.
"Bruce--"
"Batman."
"Batman is getting the med center ready right now.
"He'll know."
"He knows you've been compromised, Timmy, that's why he's getting the med center ready." Dick's trying to keep his voice calm and collected even as he slides closer to Tim's huddled form.
"No!" Tim cries, "He'll know."
"He knows Tim, he's right behind us..."
"Stay back!" Dick stops. Takes a deep breath. He's managed to get a hand on one of the strands of hair that Tim ripped out a little earlier and he slides it into an evidence bag before pushing it behind him. He knows without looking that Bruce will pick it up and run as many tests as possible. He can only hope that there's some blood on the shaft.
Tim's not crying, quite, but there's a strange cracking noise coming from his throat that's just this side of a scream and Dick can see him driving his nails into his palm. There's blood on the floor under Tim's feet and Dick find himself wishing he could get the kid to move so that Bruce could pick a up a sample. Tim's made it clear that he's not going anywhere.
"I broke--"
"I'm right here, little brother," Dick breaths, "I'm right here, you just have to let me a little closer."
"I broke--" Tim slams he head against the wall, he's shaking more now and scratching at his chest where his heart is. A heart, Dick knows, which is becoming severely strained.
"What did you break?" Dick asks, taking the opportunity to slide ever closer.
Tim makes a noise that's something between a scream and gravel on glass, his eyes are tracking in a way that tells Dick he isn't seeing much of anything anymore.
"--Him"
"One of Isley's compounds." Bruces voice echos from behind them, deep and calming even as Dick's stomach jumps into his throat, "Number B58. He's in stage three."
Stage three? Dick thinks, Ivy?
"I took--" Tim is beginning to hyperventilate and some clinical piece of Dick's mind is counting down the seconds until Tim's heart gives out.
"You have to let me-- Tim." Dick moves closer and Tim, thankfully, doesn't seem to notice.
"Oh god." Tim gasps, "Oh god Kon."
Dick takes his chance, moving in to jab Tim sharply in the arm with the sedative. There's a lot more to be done before Tim is well again. A lot more to be done before whatever Tim did is well again because fuck, Poison Ivy.
Tim's breathing slows down, his nails still digging into his skin. Dick moves to catch him, cradling his adoptive brother in his arms as he carries him towards the table and the waiting crash cart.
"I took to much." Tim whispers.
Dick has a feeling he's not talking about the drug.
[Guilt]
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Parings: Mentions of Tim/Kon
Wordcount: 842
Rating: PG
Warnings: Sex pollen, angst, unashamed lack of continuity
Summary:
They find him huddled in the back of the cave, by the cars, wearing his mask and the belt (as per Bat Commandment #6: Never loose the belt) and nothing else. He's sweating bullets, his skin reddened and, Dick suspects, cold to the touch. He's shaking too, not shivering so much as twitching individual sections of skin like a horse on a particularly buggy day.
"Stop!" He shouts when Dick moves closer.
"Tim." There's a protocol for this, and Dick is using it to his best ability, sinking into a low crouch and keeping his voice low and calm. It doesn't seem to be working very well.
"Don't come closer." Tim says in a voice that would, on any other teenager, seem calm. "I've already been compromised."
Tim drags his hand along his arm and Dick notices a collection of long, red welts which must have been caused by his nails. He feels a little sick to his stomach at the realization that Tim's skin isn't red because of a fever, as he had surmised, but because the kid's been clawing and rubbing at his skin for who knows how long.
"That's right Tim." He says steadily, for all that the flash of Tim's dilated pupils strikes him with fear, "You've been compromised. You need to let me sedate you so we can counteract the drug in your system."
"Unfeasible. You don't know where I've been." Tim responds, Dick notes the further descent in to paranoia and the fact that Tim's eyes are tracking in a manner that makes Dick want to reach out and grab him. He knows that's not the right move. The drug in Tim's system, whatever the hell it is, has put his reaction-time and physical strength far above his normal basal rate. A sudden move on Dick's part could trigger Tim into a movement that would tear his muscles or put him into cardiac arrest.
Dick breathes and waits while Tim scratches at his forearms and twitches.
"I ruined it." Tim tells him, meeting his eyes for a millisecond before blinking down to the floor, "It's broken."
"Tim, you need to calm down."
"I broke it, Dick!" Tim shouts, reaching up to tear a handful of hair out by the roots.
"Bruce--"
"Batman."
"Batman is getting the med center ready right now.
"He'll know."
"He knows you've been compromised, Timmy, that's why he's getting the med center ready." Dick's trying to keep his voice calm and collected even as he slides closer to Tim's huddled form.
"No!" Tim cries, "He'll know."
"He knows Tim, he's right behind us..."
"Stay back!" Dick stops. Takes a deep breath. He's managed to get a hand on one of the strands of hair that Tim ripped out a little earlier and he slides it into an evidence bag before pushing it behind him. He knows without looking that Bruce will pick it up and run as many tests as possible. He can only hope that there's some blood on the shaft.
Tim's not crying, quite, but there's a strange cracking noise coming from his throat that's just this side of a scream and Dick can see him driving his nails into his palm. There's blood on the floor under Tim's feet and Dick find himself wishing he could get the kid to move so that Bruce could pick a up a sample. Tim's made it clear that he's not going anywhere.
"I broke--"
"I'm right here, little brother," Dick breaths, "I'm right here, you just have to let me a little closer."
"I broke--" Tim slams he head against the wall, he's shaking more now and scratching at his chest where his heart is. A heart, Dick knows, which is becoming severely strained.
"What did you break?" Dick asks, taking the opportunity to slide ever closer.
Tim makes a noise that's something between a scream and gravel on glass, his eyes are tracking in a way that tells Dick he isn't seeing much of anything anymore.
"--Him"
"One of Isley's compounds." Bruces voice echos from behind them, deep and calming even as Dick's stomach jumps into his throat, "Number B58. He's in stage three."
Stage three? Dick thinks, Ivy?
"I took--" Tim is beginning to hyperventilate and some clinical piece of Dick's mind is counting down the seconds until Tim's heart gives out.
"You have to let me-- Tim." Dick moves closer and Tim, thankfully, doesn't seem to notice.
"Oh god." Tim gasps, "Oh god Kon."
Dick takes his chance, moving in to jab Tim sharply in the arm with the sedative. There's a lot more to be done before Tim is well again. A lot more to be done before whatever Tim did is well again because fuck, Poison Ivy.
Tim's breathing slows down, his nails still digging into his skin. Dick moves to catch him, cradling his adoptive brother in his arms as he carries him towards the table and the waiting crash cart.
"I took to much." Tim whispers.
Dick has a feeling he's not talking about the drug.
[Guilt]
VERY GOOD
on 2011-03-03 10:17 pm (UTC)regardless- the stories manage to make the reader 'feel' tim's misery...when you can make a reader 'feel'; that's good writing. well done and thanks for sharing.