Disclaimers: Not mine.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: "My name is Tim."
Milieu: CSA: Gotham. Won't make sense
without the others.
Ratings Note/Warnings: Content some readers may find
disturbing.
Acknowledgments: To Jack, for audiencing.
*
It's not that bad.
It's --
Her teeth feel loose in her head, and it doesn't matter what
Robin says -- her wrists feel just as broken as the fingers of
her right hand -- and her ribs are bruised about as badly as
they've ever been, she's one *big*, pulpy bruise under her
suit --
It's not that bad.
Robin hasn't clicked away from 'I'm worried about you and
I want you to know it,' but it's --
"Ish --" Her mouth is a mess.
"You shouldn't try to talk, Spoiler."
Spoiler. That's the point. That's the whole *point*. She
opens and closes her mouth behind the cowl Owl-Man had
tossed back at her when he was done introducing himself
until she thinks she can make the whole talking thing work.
"It's not. That bad." She doesn't moan.
"No. You're not significantly injured. All things. Considered."
The thing is, it looks like he really *wants* to click, and
Steph's not sure if she wants to see the new channel. But
he's on her *left* side, so it's just painful to reach out,
instead of impossible.
"You want. To touch?"
"Hand. Gimme --"
It's there in a blink, resting flat and palm-up in *her* palm,
and it's -- Just sitting there. Fine. Her fingers on *this*
hand aren't broken, and she can --
She can't keep the grunt of pain in entirely -- what the hell
had the bastard done to her *forearm* muscles? -- but she
gets her fingers curled in around it.
"Hold. Holding? You want to hold? Spoiler."
He sounds like he's about ten seconds from slipping the
fucking *track*. "Not. That *bad*."
He nods at her like he understands.
Steph breathes.
"I'm going to kill him tonight. Go to sleep."
Steph stops, and squeezes his hand again. "Nngh. No."
"Yes. Yes, I think so. Spoiler."
"What -- he expects -- Robin --"
"My name. Is Tim," he says, and *click* there's the smile,
the same one when he called her Spoiler for the first time.
"And he hurt you."
("Don't you think she's a little... robust for you, Robin? Or
have I misjudged you *all* this time?")
"He. He hurt you."
And so he has to die, and the thing is? She can *go* with
that. But it's gonna be *her*, one, and --
"If you loosen your grip, you'll be able to rest slightly more
easily, I believe. And I can give you another half-dose. And
then --"
"*No*."
"He hurt you," he says, and *click*, he's got his head
cocked a little and he's staring right into her eyes and he's
trying to --
He's totally about to try to *teach* her something. *Now*.
"Robin --"
"My name is Tim. Also he forced me to touch your body, to
tape you and bandage you. To touch you. You didn't want
that. I know you didn't. I liked it. He has to die right now,
Spoiler. Please go to sleep."
Steph squeezes her eyes shut. She *is* tired. She's so --
she *can't*. "You -- you fuck up. It's *bad*."
"Spoiler --"
"*Tim*. He'll -- he'll touch me. For *real*."
Robin sucks in a breath, and then doesn't exhale it again.
For a really fucking *long* -- she's *tired*, but she has to --
"Tim --"
"If I die, *I* will hurt you."
It doesn't *sound* like a question, and she doesn't want to
talk anymore than she fucking has to, but -- she has to
make this clear. "If you die, you. You."
"Spoiler --"
"You'll *fail* m-me."
And watching Robin's face crumple in on itself -- it's
probably one of the scariest things she's ever seen, and that
includes Owl-Man's cowl looming over her face, Owl-Man's
smile, Owl-Man's flexing hands --
"You --"
But -- *click*. "I understand. He expects me to -- feel. This
way." He's all better now. Good.
But she has to make *sure*. "See you -- see you coming --"
"He's far too prepared. He's --"
"Wind -- winding you --"
Tim twists his hand in her grip, flips it over until they're
palm to palm, gauntlet to gauntlet. And then, after a
moment, he squeezes. Once. "I understand now, Spoiler. I
was about to make a grave tactical error."
Yeah. Just... yeah.
"You're going to sleep now? You're going to sleep. Wait."
Steph blinks about two hundred million thousand times
until she can focus again. "Yeah?"
"What, do you think, I should do? It would be suspicious for
me to do nothing at all. Dangerously so, I think."
If she shudders, she'll cry. She doesn't shudder.
"It's all right. We're both speaking too quietly for the
microphones to pick anything up."
Because that's totally and completely what he thinks she's
worried -- Steph croaks a laugh, and groans, and --
He smiles (for) at her. Tim. "I like your laugh."
"You -- he was turned on."
"Yes. You were very beautiful, and you never used anything
but the moves which would have maimed him. It's probably
why he didn't simply rape --"
"No. He was -- was turned *on* --" And that was too
much. It feels like her insides are -- no, it's just her ribs.
"Ah. You think he'll want some sort of sex from me."
"Don't -- don't have to --"
"May I squeeze your hand again?"
He makes her hurt inside so *bad*, but there are too many
cuts on her face to make crying anything but god-fucking-
awful. "Yeah," she says, and her voice isn't any thicker than
it should be. With everything.
He does. "It's what you would do. Yes?"
She can't really keep her eyes open. "Make him. Make him
think he owns *you*."
"Oh. Spoiler. Tell me more?"
She's -- just a little more. He needs to know. The deep
breath makes boring white flowers bloom behind her eyes,
and then it's just the pain, and she's a little more awake.
"Make --"
"Make him think..."
"Owns you. Like." She swallows, and it *clicks*, and she
thinks she wants the rest of the drugs now. Soon. "*I*
own you."
"Yes, Spoiler. Oh yes." And then he's standing over her --
not really leaning -- just up high enough that she doesn't
have to strain anything to see her. "I'm going to think
about how beautiful you were," he says.
"Always -- said I'm always --"
"You're always beautiful. Yes."
"Tell him... how fucked-up I am -- how it's what. Gets
you --"
"Present you as a beautiful curiosity? Yes. Yes, I think so. I
have certain phrases in mind. Would you like me to tell
you --"
"No --" And she cuts herself off, but it's still a moan.
"All right," he says, and the smile in his voice is as different
as the one on his face.
It's all small, and quiet like the wooly cotton around Steph's
brain, and it's like looking at a whole different person. She
wishes she could keep her eyes open.
"You'll be even more beautiful when you kill him with me,
Spoiler. Good-night."
Maybe... maybe it was 'Tim.'
*