My sister gave me the prompt blame her for this… um… piece.

The Prompt: Write a short story or poem based on the metaphor 'a cup of restraint.'

Tim walked into the cold dark Bat Cave holding a steaming cup of tea. Slowly he descended the stairs, determined not to spill a single drop of the soothing hot liquid. Tim watched the tea drift dangerously close to the rim of the cup as he reached the foot of the stairs. His ears were ringing with the sound of glass breaking as it clattered to the cold stone floor. The sound was coming from the opposite side of the cave. Even though it was pitch black, Tim knew exactly what the sound was. Soon the sound dissipated, and all that could be heard was ragged breathing. He knew that the previous sound was Dick letting out some of his frustrations on some of the less shatter-resistant objects in the cave. "I knew you were still upset about earlier, so I made you a cup of tea, but now I'm thinking I should have made you a cup of restraint." Tim sat the cup on the work table and began to clean up the disaster zone that was once the cave floor.

Dick didn't say anything; partly because he had nothing to say and partly because his thoughts kept swaying into "kill Timmy" mode. He didn't even know why. Tim hadn't done anything, this time. This time it had been his fault. He was the one who was too slow, the one who was too caught up in himself, the one who didn't make it in time, the one who had seen all of the horrific images. His body convulsed with the thought, and before he even could even register the feeling of sickness, his stomach rejected everything he had eaten that day, luckily that wasn't much. If only he had been stronger, smarter, faster, he could have saved them. He could have saved his friends. Tim's voice suddenly pulled Dick away from his thoughts, and kept him from delving any further into his depression.

Tim folded his arms in front of his chest, and faced the man before him with a stern look that even the Bat would have been proud of. "I know what you're doing, and I want you to stop right now."

Dick wanted to question Tim's meaning, but couldn't find his voice. All he could manage to do was stare blankly at the boy in front of him and hope he understood his meaning. Tim's features suddenly softened, and Dick knew that Tim had realized the things Dick just couldn't seem to voice. "I know that you are standing there blaming yourself for what happened. You're running over every little detail, trying to figure out where you went wrong. You're trying to analyze every last millisecond, wracking your brains, and telling yourself, 'If I would have just done this differently, then it wouldn't have happened,' but you're wrong. There was nothing either one of us could have done differently. We made the best decisions we could with the information we had. Sometimes you just can't save them all." Tim's thoughts lingered on how many times that had come up in conversation with every one of the members of the bat clan. They all knew it was true, but still it never got any easier. Tim's gaze went to the floor. "I'm going to go get something to clean that up."

Before Tim could even turn to go, Dick jumped on top of him, sending him crashing to the ground. The thud made by Tim's backside when it collided with the floor echoed throughout the cave. Without warning, Dick started relentlessly punching Tim's face and chest. All Tim could do was feebly block the oncoming blows. His elbows were trapped to his sides by Dick's knees, leaving a very small range motion. Tim's legs were being held down to the floor by Dick's feet, which wasn't helping Tim any. Some of the bruises were already visible, and it was obvious that Dick had broken Tim's nose. Even the blood running down the kid's face didn't make Dick stop. The punches just kept coming, and Tim didn't even know why.

Bruce had heard a loud noise come from the cave. When he got down there, Dick was still on top of Tim, hitting him. Bruce wasn't exactly sure what had transpired between the two of them since he had left them in the cave earlier, but he knew this wasn't one of those brotherly spats that had erupted from Tim mouthing off again. Bruce had called out Dick's name multiple times with no response. Finally, he walked over and physically removed Dick from Tim. When Bruce looked Dick up and down, Bruce saw far too much blood on Dick's hands for his liking. Then he realized that it was Tim's blood. "I want to know what happened." When neither of them made any indication of hearing his words, the roar Bruce emitted was deafening. "NOW!"

Tim simply shook. What could he possibly say? He had no idea what had happened. One moment he was going to go clean up another one of Dick's messes, the next he was down on the ground bleeding. Being hit by an elephant would have been less shocking.

Dick on the other hand only had one word to say. "Nothing."

Dick turned to leave, but Bruce stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Learn to restrain yourself, or I will use a different type of restraint. This," Bruce took a hold of Dick's hand and waved it in front of his face, "will not happen again. Do you understand me?"

Dick wrenched his hand from Bruce's grip, and stepped around him. Silently, Dick stormed out of the cave.

Bruce turned back to Tim, and helped him up. "Don't look at me; I know nothing." Tim groaned in pain as he was slowly lifted to his feet.

Dick was sitting on the floor of the shower, thinking back on the incident in the cave. Dick had no idea why he had done it, any of it. It wasn't exactly rage or grief that had caused his actions. It was like something Tim had said had made him snap. He knew Tim was right. He knew Tim was only trying to calm him down. He knew that Tim had only spoken the truth. So, why on earth did he suddenly lash out at the kid? Dick probably would have ended up killing Tim had Bruce not walked in when he did. His head hung low as he watched the blood and water flow down the drain. I did that to Tim because I couldn't restrain myself, or as Bruce would put it, I couldn't restrain my emotions. Restraint is something I never really worried about, or even gave much thought to, until now. It was never a problem before. I knew exactly how much to give and take before it was too much. Now? Now everything seems so distant, so pointless, so messed up. Everything seems like a blur. Nothing makes sense anymore.

Dick didn't think it was possible to feel worse than he already did, but here he was. Somehow, no matter how emotionally raw a person was, another emotion always seemed to be able to sneak in. He had already been feeling hurt, pain, grief, anger, despair, doubt, and all the other emotions that came along with losing people you cared about. Now he was dealing with shame and regret to boot. It was hard to believe that mere hours ago, he had been smiling and considered life to be happy. Happy was the last word he would use to describe life now. Life, to him, seemed more like a disaster zone that needed to be cleared away. Nothing seemed right or good. Everything felt empty and hollow. He felt empty and hollow.

Without even realizing he had done so, Dick got out of the shower and got dressed. As though he was in a trance, he walked through the manor, not really knowing where he was going. Dick's feet had carried him off to the library. He walked silently into the surprisingly dimly lit room. Dick's eyes were fixed on the floor as he walked. He caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. He turned, only to find Tim sitting on the floor reading. The kid had cleaned himself up, but Tim still looked pretty bad from the beating earlier. Dick heaved a large sigh, and Tim automatically glanced up. It looked, from Dick's perspective, like it had taken Tim a moment to realize who was in the room, because he had squinted slightly, and then just sat there unmoving.

Dick took a step towards Tim, and watched him pull back. Dick was sure that if Tim hadn't been sitting with his back up against the wall he would have turned and ran. Deciding it would be more comfortable for Tim, Dick sat down on the floor without moving any closer. "I'm really sorry about earlier. I have no idea why it happened. I know that apology is weak, but I really don't know what to say. I just sort of snapped. I'm really, really sorry. So, uh, how are you feeling?"

Dick watched as Tim relaxed somewhat. "I'm okay."

Dick's eyes fell to the floor once again. He couldn't take another minute looking at Tim, looking at what he had done to Tim. "How badly did I hurt you?" Dick's voice was almost inaudible.

Tim shrugged. "Minus the nose it's not as bad as it looks, really."

"Yeah, sure." Dick's voice sounded like he was on the verge of crying.

Tim suddenly threw a book at Dick. "I'm starting to think Bruce has a sense of humor after all."

Dick looked at the book. "A self help book? What the…" His voice trailed off as he started to read the title.

Tim smiled, and then started to chuckle lightly. "A self help guide on how to restrain yourself in bad situations. Told you we were wearing on him. After the, um, incident in the cave, he left and came back with that. He told me to give it to you the next time I saw you. Who knew the old guy could be funny after all?"

Dick continued to stare at the book. "I don't think he was trying to be funny, Tim."

Tim laughed a little harder. "I know, but that doesn't mean it isn't funny." Noting Dick's solemn face, Tim cleared his throat and continued. "I mean you just lost a group of people you cared about; grew up with. You are entitled to a freak out or two."

Dick looked around the room. "I just can't believe they're gone. I can't believe Raven, Gar, Vic, and Kory are all dead." He took in the sight of all the books. "Do you mind if we leave this room?" Dick looked at Tim's questioning face, knowing he was dying to ask why. "Reading was Raven's favorite pastime. She used to just spend hours upon hours in the library. Whenever I look at all these books, I think of her, and when I think of her, I think of the rest of them, and then I remember how they died, and then I just get so angry, and all those emotions boil up again."

Before Dick could say anything further Tim stood up, stifling the groans of pain as he did so. Silently he wondered why Bruce had been badgering Dick about restraint lately. He was also starting to wonder if there wasn't more to all of this. As he walked past Dick, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm thinking the kitchen is a good place to be right now."

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that your way of saying you're hungry?"

Tim grinned widely. "It might be."

The two of them walked off to the kitchen. Tim's thoughts continued to linger on everything that had happened lately. It amazed him how quickly life could change. Everything was, dare he say it, good. That was until he got that call. It was supposed to be a simple "run in with Nightwing, see what went down, get information, and get back" kind of deals. It wasn't supposed to be long and drawn out, and no one was supposed to die, especially not them. No one had even known that they were in Gotham, not even Dick. Hell, Dick wasn't even supposed to be in Gotham. The fact that Dick was in Gotham was a complete accident, a fluke, if anything. He was in Gotham doing Dick Grayson work. In fact, had Batman not been busy dealing with his own problems across town, Nightwing probably wouldn't have even made an appearance. He would have gone back home and no one would have even noticed. But that call had changed everything. It was supposed to be routine. Talk to the nonexistent witness, pretend to care what the police had to say, and check the premises for anything suspicious. There wasn't supposed to be a dark figure lurking in the shadows. They weren't supposed to go chasing after it, and ending up almost dying in the process, not to mention losing people they didn't even know were on this side of the planet. The lesson in the severe lack of communication was heard loud and clear, as was the explosion. The two of them didn't even know they would be mourning losses until the figure stopped and let out a sickening laugh. Hell, they thought they had been lucky that neither one of them had stuck around long. Lucky was the last thing they were.

Yup, life certainly has a way of turning on you, making you believe one thing when something else entirely has already been put into motion. Still, the bat clan has no idea why they were there, and why no one had known about their arrival. The mysterious figure remained just that: mysterious, loose, and clearly dangerous.

The End