While ao3 is down, I'm going to see if I can figure out how to post directly here.
Two Weeks Of Whump Challenge Day 9. Branding
Tim reached over and behind his head, grabbing his shirt by the back of his collar and pulling it off. He tossed it towards the laundry basket and flopped face down on the bed, ready to drift off to sleep.
Until something poked him.
"Your pants, too." Conner reminded.
"Mm. Nng. Leave me 'lone." Tim grunted in response.
"Tim, baby, this isn't up for debate. You've got mud, blood and⦠what I hope is rainwater, caked everywhere."
Tim huffed, but pushed himself up anyway. "Fine." He stumbled to his dresser and grabbed out a pair of sweatpants to change into.
"I'm so sorry for insisting you at least change out of your uniform before getting into⦠bed."
Conner finished his sentence softly, and Tim turned to see what had caught his boyfriend's attention.
Tim froze, and he could swear he felt his heart stop.
'My dear son, JJ! Now doesn't that just have a nice ring to it?'
Their voices echoed in his mind, accompanied by phantom pains.
The feeling of the electrical shocks.
The far-too-tight cuffs keeping him from fighting back or defending himself.
"... What?" He finally managed.
"Your leg. You've got a tattoo that says 'JJ'. I was just wondering, cause I've never heard you mention them. Were they an ex?" Conner got up and came over, face concerned. He must have seen Tim's reaction to his question.
Tim didn't know what to say.
"W-what..?" He couldn't breathe.
Everything was⦠way too much right now.
Tim stumbled back, falling against the dresser.
'There's a good lad. Now why don't you help your daddy with a little something?'
Hands pulled at his hair.
'Ah, ah, ah! That's not your name anymore, is it? Naaah. You look more like a Junior.'
He felt himself slide down to his knees, heard⦠someone screaming.
"I'm here. Baby, I'm right here. I've got you."
'Now that I've got you, my boy,' His voice echoed in Tim's head, 'Killing Batsy will be a piece of cake!'
Something was restraining him!
"Stop! Tim, baby, please! You're going to hurt yourself!"
They were going to kill him.
They were going to use him to kill Batman.
He felt a prick in his neck and redoubled his efforts to free himself.
He couldn't do this again.
He didn't want to lose himself again.
"Shh. Shh. You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay. Just give it a minute."
He felt himself relax against his will.
But whatever he'd been injected with didn't give him a choice.
His mind started to clear and he found himself lying on his back, head and shoulders resting in Conner's lap.
"You're okay. You're okay, baby. I'm so sorry. Bruce is on his way. Just relax."
The room began to grow dark, but Tim reached up, shakily.
Conner looked scared, but Tim's brain was in too much of a fog to figure out why.
His fingers brushed a tear away from his boyfriend's cheek before falling limply back down, resting across his own chest.
Conner grabbed it and held it. "You're okay, sweetheart." He whispered.
Tim thought he might have said something else as well, but he couldn't make it out, already drifting off.
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