What am I supposed to do?

"My family has a relatively small house compared to our neighbors for a reason. We wanted the extra land to run around in wolf form without getting caught. We regularly go camping in the forest that marks the edge of our property line." He explained, only distantly realising that he sounded like a stuffy rich kid.

He wasn't... he wasn't that bad. Was he? He definitely wasn't like the other spoiled brats he occasionally saw at galas and social events. Those other rich kids all came from Old Money families and had never gone running through rain and mud, never chased rodents and vermin and small animals through the underbrush. To be fair, neither had Tim as last night had been his first transformation, but he'd been there camping with his parents while they transformed. He regularly spent full moon nights curled up against warm fur and being nudged by damp noses until the next morning where they shared a meal. They'd planned their schedules so carefully to not be caught out on a plane or in an unknown city with no support during the full or new moon. He'd started showing signs of his first transformation coming soon and they were going to try and cut their trip to Haiti early and be here for it. They'd always promised they'd never miss his first, that they'd guide him through his first full moon transformation.

Life took that from him. That incredibly special moment. A cruel, greedy man halfway across the world decided to take them hostage for reasons he might never know.

Elliot nodded along with his words. He didn't really consider what all of that said about how much money Tim's family had - most of the people at school seemed to have a fair bit of money, including Elliot's own adoptive parents. Sure, it wasn't something Elliot was used to before he came here but it was just the way of this strange world... And it was nicer to have clothes that fit him and shoes that weren't worn down to the sole after only a few weeks of his parkour adventures after school.

"That would be good. I... yeah, camping sounds fun! Do deer just run away from you? Most wild animals come right up to me, I dunno why. Would be fun to see what wins out; my friendliness or the wolfiness." Elliot rambled, beaming at Tim for a few seconds longer before his smile dropped into something a little more uncertain.

It would be fun either way, just chilling in the woods. It would be different now that he could officially become a wolf whenever he wanted. And... well he had a friend to share that with now; his mother dead and his father in limbo? He needed connections now more than ever.

"Wait, hold on, animals come up to you? Okay we definitely have to go camping now, We gotta test this." He mentally ran through their upcoming homework assignments. "How about next weekend? We haven't got anything major coming up."

Heal.

As if the damage that had been done would be undone by mere rest.

As if being unable to move in his own body as he recovered was any less of a prison.

Jason snarled, his heart lurching to his throat at the foreign kindness and he hated it, hated himself, hated everything and he had just needed the bathroom so he wouldn't piss on himself again like he had been and -

Oh.

He'd been yelling.

The yelling hadn't bothered him; he'd long since gotten over Jason generally being loud and sometimes a little prickly. He knew perfectly well when he could hover around his Jason and annoy him and when he genuinely needed to leave the guy alone.

This Jason seemed to have at least settled down, if looking somewhat ashamed for going off. Good.

"I mean it. Give your body a chance to heal the physical injuries at least enough so you're not wincing every time you flex a joint. Until then? Food then pain killers in that order. Have you ever taken strong pain killers on an empty stomach? Cause that sucks."

Bruce had blown himself to hell. Buried. Dead. And Gotham had moved on, seemingly. They had moved on.

Jason just looked to the soup and the grilled cheese, stomach churning painfully with hunger, and yet, the thought of actually putting it into his mouth -

And Jason had to admit, considering last night, that assumption wasn't that far off.

Still, Jason allowed himself to look around the slightly messy room he found himself in. Messy. And lived in. A home, despite it being a safe house. A place where one could be comfortable if needed and rest.

''I don't mind,'' Jason found himself replying, and tentatively, he tried pushing himself up to his feet.

And failed.

''Shit—''

"You've got dislocations, poorly healed fractures and God knows what else without some proper scans. You need to keep still for now."

Hypocrit that he is... Tim's awful when he's out of action. Bratty and sulking and one memorable occasion after a kidnapping incident where he'd been so overwhelmed and exhausted that he'd bitten Dick. Dick had only been doing his part to keep Tim awake during a suspected concussion. He got it. He hated sitting still when there was so much to get done. Why Jason felt the need to try and move when it had barely been a day since he'd been found, Tim would have to find out at some point.

"You're my guest." He said, his voice soft and warm. "Let me handle cooking until you've got some pain free movement. Then we can talk about sharing. Fair?"

Bruce had blown himself to hell. Buried. Dead. And Gotham had moved on, seemingly. They had moved on.

Jason just looked to the soup and the grilled cheese, stomach churning painfully with hunger, and yet, the thought of actually putting it into his mouth -

In that moment, as he cried into the blanket with stifled sobs, it was what Jason needed. As he cried, Jason grew ever more tired until he couldn't do much more than take the pain medication—risks be damned—and lie down.

And he slept.

The painkillers pulled him down to a deep sleep that was devoid of thought and dream. Not even the horrors had a chance to penetrate the fog that had been pulled up in Jason's mind.

He slept.

And slept.

By the time Jason awoke, it was bright out. The sun was shining into the apartment, and Jason stayed still for a moment just to let that observation sink in. The sun. How long had it been since he had truly looked to a bright day? How long -

He chose something simple again. Porridge was light but filling. Tim was incredibly picky with his and had to have a specific brand and had to make it himself to get the exact right consistency so it wouldn't set off his texture issues. Too thin or thick and his brain could easily trick him into thinking he was about to vomit and he would soon spit it out and struggle to finish. He liked honey with his porridge though.

"Morning." He said over his shoulder as he warmed up some milk. "Your stomach will hte you if you don't have something in it before your next dose. How do you usually take porridge?"

Bruce had blown himself to hell. Buried. Dead. And Gotham had moved on, seemingly. They had moved on.

Jason just looked to the soup and the grilled cheese, stomach churning painfully with hunger, and yet, the thought of actually putting it into his mouth -

You'll wake up soon, now. And you'll be right back with me. You will never be free.

I will always find you, little bird.

Jason shuddered at the memory and jerked up when the kid threw two blankets over the back of the couch. But the kid was not the threat here. And he seemed adamant to make sure no other threat would make its way in. And so, hesitantly, Jason took the brown one, testing the material between his fingers.

It was soft.

Fuck, but his blanket was soft.

But he did as promised. He stayed there the entire time Jason was asleep. He only moved to grab snacks or something to drink or to use the bathroom. Otherwise? He was right there on the floor. In front of the sofa. Anything he listened to or watched on his phone was turned down low. How much sleep Jason actually ended up getting, Tim didnt know. Didn't pay attention. Just sat there on his phone, watching the door and listening out for any sounds that didnt belong.

They remained alone though Tim's family were only a text away and he knew it.

Bruce had blown himself to hell. Buried. Dead. And Gotham had moved on, seemingly. They had moved on.

Jason just looked to the soup and the grilled cheese, stomach churning painfully with hunger, and yet, the thought of actually putting it into his mouth -

Did he even know it, after all this time? All he had wanted was to get out, to regain his freedom, and he had that now. Jason could breathe again.

Unless this was another hallucination.

It wouldn't be the first time he thought that he had gotten out. Not the first time he thought that Batman had saved him, finally. But this felt different. More real, and a lot more painful. And despite his hunger, it was that pain and the exhaustion of it all, that pulled at him hardest.

"You've eaten so the pain killers from the Doc should be effective if you take them now. They should kick in while you sleep. Or lay there with your eyes closed, I know I've had to do that a few times after a rough patrol. it's not the best rest but it's better than nothing."

His own bowl was taken to the sink to be rinsed since Jason was still eating.

"I'll keep watch." He said with a gentle kind of finality. He wasn't going to argue with Jason on this. "I can promise you, no one else will walk through that door or come to these windows without me knowing, not even my family."

Tim then paced to a nearby cupboard and pulled out two blankets. Both had a soft looking texture but one was heavier, only revealed when Tim put both of them over the back of the sofa.

Bruce had blown himself to hell. Buried. Dead. And Gotham had moved on, seemingly. They had moved on.

Jason just looked to the soup and the grilled cheese, stomach churning painfully with hunger, and yet, the thought of actually putting it into his mouth -

The other him had been -

How often had he begged for death as the weeks dragged on into months? When the clown had allowed the others to play with him too for variety. How often had he tried, in the rare quiet moments, to find the strength to end it all himself?

And the other version had been killed.

And this Bruce had lost his mind over it.

His Bruce -

Jason was going to be sick.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you." Was all Tim could say in the silence following Jason's short explanation.

He needed to help somehow... in a way that wasnt just food. Perhaps playing therapist for so many of the rogues in the last couple of years was a good thing. Tim took a breath.

𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘  𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗗  𝗧𝗛𝗘  𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥  𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡  𝗢𝗙  𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙  𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛  𝗧𝗛𝗘  𝗠𝗜𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗥  ,  fascinated  with  the  way  his  eyes  were  trained  on  her.  it  was  almost  amusing  seeing  the  way  the  other  tim  just  stared  at  her  ,  almost  like  he  couldn't  fully  understand  what  he  was  looking  at.  a  small  smirk  lined  her  lips  as  she  finished  styling  the  last  of  her  extensions  into  place  ,  curls  now  effortlessly  spilling  over  her  shoulders.  “  is.  i'm  just  as  much  caroline  as  i  am  tim.  ”  voice  instinctively  jumped  up  a  few  octaves  as  she  spoke  ,  leaning  back  against  the  counter  she  was  working  on  as  she  fully  faced  tim.  “  and  not  as  long  as  it  use  to.  i've  gotten  very  good  at  installing  my  own  extensions.  ”

pushing  off  ,  she  skirted  past  the  younger  tim  ,  masterfully  moving  to  style  the  curls  into  a  high  ponytail  as  her  eyes  skimmed  the  room  ,  clearly  looking  for  something  else.  “  but  this  is  only  when  i'm  actually  going  out.  if  i'm  at  home  or  just  doing  stuff  with  friends  ,  no  need  to  go  full  out  ,  ya  know  ?  ”

He knows there's a word for this, several actually depending on this Tim's gender identity, but he's fairly sure asking direct questions about such a personal topic will get him smacked round the head both for bluntness and rudeness. So he just sits and watches. Each movement with the hair and applying the makeup was graceful and purposeful; practiced in a way Tim couldn't really fully comprehend. The words make sense.

This older version of himself dances along the gender binary with glee and looks perfectly content in their chosen outfit.

Their? Her? ...should he completely avoid using him right now?

...he really should just ask.

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updated May 3 2026. I'm separating the dialogue prompts into their respective sections. Went through Anger & Angst Lists the last few days & separated them into smaller lists. Will be working on the horror/Apocalyptic list next!

PLEASE reblog if you use any of these/wanna share with your writer friends!!