Gotham was like a sickness in the blood, one he couldn't escape. Tim remembered the Clench, the sick, sweaty pain of it but Gotham was the disease he couldn't cure. Bludhaven was only a tumor spreading itself from the original growth but at least its dirt was on the surface, no blistered pockets of secret darkness festering. Tim was getting tired of secrets.
He woke with the blood-taste still slick on the back of his tongue and a hand on his bare back, stroking with deliberation. Words scattered in his head like a shattered crossword puzzle and he had never trained his body to accept Dick presence as something he could trust, it just always had, relaxing, melting under a touch that turned suddenly brutal. Already bruised, already aching and there was no chance to fight. Both arms caught behind him and a hard knee in the small of his back, and it wasn't that he couldn't get free, he just couldn't do it without breaking his arms. Better to wait, to see if he was going to need his arms or just need to get out while he was alive.
"Pathetic. And you were the one who found out who we really were?"
A knee in the small of his back and he wasn't pinned so well that he couldn't move enough to see. He didn't need to see.
"You're the clever one? Your smart one in the family, right?" Hot breath on his cheek, "Is daddy proud of you? Is he?"
"Jason, you--"
Another twist and bright, fresh pain told him his arms were hovering just on the border of being dislocated.
"Does big brother brag about you to all his friends? I bet he does. I bet," Closer still and Tim can feel the damp brush of his lips against the edge of his ear. "I bet you'd do just about anything he asked you to. Wouldn't you, Timmy."
His knee nudged between Tim's legs, inching up until it was pressed tight between them and Tim didn't make a sound as his arch away made one of his arms just slip out of the socket and then back, hot, grinding pain and Jason was tight against him, smothering him with his body.
"Nothing to say? Nothing for me?" The wet swipe of a tongue across his cheek left a cool line of spit. His thighs on the outside of Tim's legs, tights rubbing raw patches against bruises that never seemed to fade, only replaced by new, upgraded versions.
Jason's voice was soft against his ear, damp, muggy breath touching him, making him shiver. "Can't you be my little brother, too?"
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Heck, I'm just bored enough to play the game twice!
Date: 2005-11-21 10:04 am (UTC)He woke with the blood-taste still slick on the back of his tongue and a hand on his bare back, stroking with deliberation. Words scattered in his head like a shattered crossword puzzle and he had never trained his body to accept Dick presence as something he could trust, it just always had, relaxing, melting under a touch that turned suddenly brutal. Already bruised, already aching and there was no chance to fight. Both arms caught behind him and a hard knee in the small of his back, and it wasn't that he couldn't get free, he just couldn't do it without breaking his arms. Better to wait, to see if he was going to need his arms or just need to get out while he was alive.
"Pathetic. And you were the one who found out who we really were?"
A knee in the small of his back and he wasn't pinned so well that he couldn't move enough to see. He didn't need to see.
"You're the clever one? Your smart one in the family, right?" Hot breath on his cheek, "Is daddy proud of you? Is he?"
"Jason, you--"
Another twist and bright, fresh pain told him his arms were hovering just on the border of being dislocated.
"Does big brother brag about you to all his friends? I bet he does. I bet," Closer still and Tim can feel the damp brush of his lips against the edge of his ear. "I bet you'd do just about anything he asked you to. Wouldn't you, Timmy."
His knee nudged between Tim's legs, inching up until it was pressed tight between them and Tim didn't make a sound as his arch away made one of his arms just slip out of the socket and then back, hot, grinding pain and Jason was tight against him, smothering him with his body.
"Nothing to say? Nothing for me?" The wet swipe of a tongue across his cheek left a cool line of spit. His thighs on the outside of Tim's legs, tights rubbing raw patches against bruises that never seemed to fade, only replaced by new, upgraded versions.
Jason's voice was soft against his ear, damp, muggy breath touching him, making him shiver. "Can't you be my little brother, too?"