InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "it's too late to apologize"

Tim Drake (tacticalrobin) wrote in parabolical,
@ 2009-08-26 21:03:00

Entry tags:

bruce wayne/batman, tim drake/robin

Who: Bruce and Tim
What: Sneaking that bats are famous for~
When: August 26th. Late night.
Where: Bruce's room.
Warnings:hilarity? xD IDK. None probably. Awkward times.

Bruce Wayne was there. Younger. Didn't know him, but there. Tim was worried. He rarely admitted even internally that he was, but he'd lost so much already..He didn't know if he could bare losing Bruce too. Bruce had adopted him after his father was murdered. Took him in, treated him like a son. Trained him, taught him everything he knew. Maybe even more than he realized. He'd waited long enough, avoided Bruce long enough. He had to know one way or the other. He hoped it was the other. Bruce would have some inkling who he was. Tim wouldn't be alone.

Not entirely. He didn't know what to think. Bart was in this city, but didn't know him. Who else could be lurking? He took a breath as he parked the red bird outside the manor. It was dark out. The moon had disappeared already behind the clouds. That's when Tim saw it. His advantage of shadow and took it. He was in costume..maybe if Bruce didn't recognize Tim Wayne he'd at least know Robin. He had too. Bruce's room had been easy enough to find. Even from the outside in the dark he knew Wayne Manor like the back of his hand. It was his home after all. He knew every good place to hide, every escape route and emergency latch. Every inch. Tim waited for shadow cover and slipped inside the large elegant window.

Robin just watched, made no sound. No obvious show that his presence was there. If this was Bruce-sleeping or not, he would know Tim was there before he even opened his eyes.

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caped_crusader
2009-08-29 07:12 am UTC (link)

He was all too sure that it was Terry. It was a shadow, silhouetted against the wall and the dark, in front of the window and in the shape of a human being. Assuming at first glance (if you could call it a glance) that it was who he thought it would be was a mistake that came from him being so accustomed and familiar with Terry being under the same roof. Somebody stepped foot in his room and chances were, it was Terry, and if it wasn’t, it was one of the dogs or the kitten who was developing a preference for falling asleep on his bed.

It was late. He’d just gotten in and the suit had been hung back up no more than ten minutes before he walked in through the bedroom door. Terry hadn’t been in the Cave and he hadn’t been in the rooms he’d trekked through, so finding him upstairs seemed like a plausible thing. Giving him only a quick glimpse from the corner of his eye didn’t help him to turn on some sort of brain switch and realize that the person in his room wasn’t Terry, but a Robin clad in the tights that Terry would never in his life be seen wearing.

“Get out of my room, Terry.” That never worked. Terry never listened and never got out of his room when he said that, and saying it no longer meant what it sounded like it meant. What it really meant was that he knew that Terry was there. It had become a reaction and nothing more than that. Half the time the annoyance wasn’t even in his voice.

After saying that, Bruce could have gone straight to into the bathroom without rethinking his choice. He could have held a full out conversation with someone who wasn’t there. But neither of these things happened. They didn’t occur because Bruce looked. He looked and he stopped dead in his tracks.

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say that I got the name wrong?” The tights. The tights gave it all away. The tights belonged to Robin.

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tacticalrobin
2009-08-29 07:26 am UTC (link)

There were many distinctions between Robin and Terry. The one most obvious was his lack of voice. Robin didn't announce his presence at all. The only hint that he'd been there apparently was a shadow he hadn't accounted for. There were reasons Bruce was the best. That was one of them, his extra senses. Some were skeptical that he had them, others like Tim Drake knew they were there from experience. Damn near annoying experience. Those heightened senses made it near impossible to get away with anything. It was irritating.

Still he didn't respond. He just watched, head cocked in curiosity. Whoever this Terry was, he was obviously someone close. The name wasn't familiar. But Bruce's tone indicated he wasn't threatened by the presence of that person like he was practically everyone else. There was no tension, no anger. Tim's deductive mind was working overtime trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"What was your first clue." Robin asked as he stepped forward finally, arms folded. "You should work on your security." Tim said flatly, not really sure what else to say. 'Hi I'm your son from apparently alternate universes' didn't sound like a good first impression. Not like breaking and entering was much better.

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caped_crusader
2009-09-03 12:02 pm UTC (link)

Terry would have been talking. Bruce liked to think that the only time Terry didn’t speak up was when he was upset and not speaking to him over something that he usually thought of as stupid and too insignificant to deserve a week of the silent treatment. During the time that he wasn’t being given the cold shoulder, Terry would run his mouth and Bruce would half-listen so perfectly that it would be a miracle for Terry to not take notice of his lack of paying attention. Robin said nothing. Robin was silent and blending in too well for him to be Terry.

Bruce thought that he should have noticed him for who he was as soon as he’d entered the room. His senses were a thing to be envied but they weren’t as heightened within his own home as they were on the streets. Despite this, nobody else would have gotten inside. He would have heard, would have seen or sensed. They would be thrown out as quickly as they’d gotten there. Not Robin. He didn’t know him, not on a personal level. He wasn’t in tune to him and couldn’t decide what he would do before he did it, but he was Robin and for that simple fact, the Batman had no need to be distrustful of him.

“The tights.” Simply said. There were other things, an endless list of other things, such as height and build, the stance, the silence. “It’s been up to par until now,” he said, rethinking those words soon after they left his mouth. Maybe he was slacking. Maybe it wasn’t as potent as it needed to be.

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