This, for the record? Is classic id-fic. Self-indulgent, filled with my favorite tropes, and willfully ignorant of any bit of canon which would ruin my fun. You have been warned. Sandman crossover. Daniel!Dream/Tim. Takes place post-reboot, in the nebulous time between Tim's emancipation and Teen Titans #1.
()()()
Tim sighs and rests his head on his love's shoulder, leaden exhaustion penetrating deep into his bones. His legs dangle off of his lover's lap, not even brushing the ground. One strong arm wraps around his torso, holding him gently against the other's chest. He's so tired. Too tired to think. Too tired to do anything but lay boneless in his lover's lap. It's been a long time since Tim was anything but exhausted, running on anything but inertia and force of habit. His love stopped that. He held Tim still and forced him out of the numbing cycle of work-research-report-sleep. He's allowed to rest now.
()()()
Tim surveyed his new apartment from the open doorway with something very close to dismay. Moving out of Bruce's house had been- necessary. He was an emancipated minor, had lost Robin, and had 'retired'. At least as far as Bruce knew, and Tim intended to keep it that way.
This empty apartment was his new base of operations. There were boxes to unpack, security to install, computer networks to be established. Furniture to arrange, deliveries to schedule, groceries to buy. People to contact, secure servers to infiltrate, data to be gathered.
Tim dropped down against the wall and buried his head in his hands, rocking a little. There was too much to do, too little time to do. The thought of the hours and days needed to get even a fraction of the list done was paralyzing.
His breath quickened, and his pulse started to pound in his ears. Tim recognized the onset of a panic attack and scrabbled at the floor. Inside. He needed to get inside, get the door closed before anyone saw.
"Hey. Hey, listen," somebody said, kneeling besides him. "Shhh. Breath in, nice and slow. That's it. Shhh." Gentle hands ran through his hair, then wrapped around his waist, guiding him into the dimly lit apartment besides his own. He was settled onto a dove-grey couch, and a blanket was wrapped around his shoulders.
Somebody tipped his head up, until he was staring at a young man with dark, dark eyes, face framed by disarrayed white hair. He knelt in front of the sofa, one pale hand grasping Tim's chin, the other resting on Tim's knee.
"Hush, Tim," The man told him softly, looking at him with those strange eyes. Tim wanted to look away, but couldn't turn his eyes from that dark, star-flecked gaze. "Everything will be fine. Calm." The word seemed to reverberate in his mind, slowing the anxious flickering of his thoughts.
"I…" Tim licked his lips, disoriented. There was something odd about this, something out of place.
"Be at ease," the man told him, patting his knee. "I'll make some tea. Rest." The knot of formless worry loosened in his chest and Tim relaxed under the touch. This was fine. Tim allowed his head to loll back against the couch, tension easing out of his stiff back and shoulders. His eyes slid shut, and he fell asleep.
()()()
For the first time in a long time, he dreamed without nightmares. He walked through a moonlit garden, following a winding gravel path. Behind him, there was a gazebo made of silver, ahead a wind-ruffled lake with weeping willows along its banks.
His companion walked beside him, his hand steady at the small of Tim's back. Tim felt no need to look at the other, trustingly following the gentle guidance of the other's hand. His companion would never bring him to harm, and the night was lovely.
()()()
Tim drifted out of sleep slowly. He was greeted by the dark eyed man, a look of fond worry on his face.
"You need to sleep more," the man told him. He wrapped Tim's hands around a mug of tea. "Drink this. It will help with the shakes."
Tim nodded. "Thank you…" He trailed off, making it a question.
"Call me Daniel. Daniel Hall." Daniel smiled at Tim. He was breathtaking when he smiled.
"Thank you, Daniel." Tim sipped at the tea. It was warm and earthy tasting, with just enough honey to the edge off the acrid tang. "I'm Tim." Just Tim, not Drake, and certainly not Wayne.
"I know. My new neighbor, correct?" Tim sensed Daniel was laughing at him behind his eyes. For some reason he didn't mind. He wanted Daniel to like him.
"Yes. Not that I gave you the best first impression." Tim winced at the memory. Fine way to look like an incompetent child. Daniel had to be at least six years older than him, early twenties at the youngest. Little chance the man would want to be friends with a damaged, crazy teenager.
"If people could control panic attacks, they wouldn't be called attacks." Daniel sat next to him on the couch and began finger combing Tim's hair back into some semblance of neatness.
Tim relaxed into the petting. It had been… Tim tried to think back to the last time somebody made more than cursory contact with him, and failed. A long time. Since the time he and Dick were anything more than uneasy allies, at least.
There was a niggling sense of worry in the back of Tim's head. Something was wrong. Or, maybe not wrong, but off. Strangely aligned. But he was warm, and comfortable, and sitting with somebody who was willing to touch him. Whatever it was, it couldn't be too important.
()()()
"Tim," Daniel said chidingly, pulling him, desk chair and all, away from the computer. "It's Wednesday."
Tim startled. "Oh god, Daniel. I'm so sorry." They had dinner together on Wednesdays. Or more accurately, Daniel insisted Tim eat with him on Wednesdays, so he could be sure Tim got at least one decent meal a week.
Tim could have sworn today was Monday. He'd lost two days somehow. He tried to stand and nearly blacked out. Daniel caught him and pulled him into a princess carry.
"That's it. No more computer for you this week," Daniel told him, hands fluttering at the pulse point on Tim's neck. "You're coming home with me, where you will eat actual food and go to sleep for the first time this week."
"I've slept this week," Tim protested, clinging to Daniel's neck.
"Don't lie, Tim," Daniel huffed. Tim blushed, guilt and remorse over his attempted deception flaring at the worry in Daniel's voice.
"I'm sorry," Tim said in a small voice.
Daniel sighed. "I know you are, Tim. When are you going to start taking care of yourself?"
"Probably never," Tim said in a rare bout of honesty. He closed his eyes at the renewed pull of exhaustion the statement produced. There was so much to be done, now that Babs had returned to being Batgirl and left Oracle behind. Tim didn't have the resources or the time Babs had to devote to it, and self-care was the first thing to be sacrificed when time was short.
"Somebody needs to take care of you." Daniel sighed again and tightened his grip on Tim. Tim shrugged as much as he could with his arms around Daniel's neck.
"Unfortunately, nobody's ever wanted the job." Daniel made a low, hurt noise and cupped the back of Tim's head. He nudged open the door to his apartment and carried Tim into the bedroom.
Daniel set Tim on the bed, and knelt to unlace Tim's shoes and pull off his socks. Tim helped Daniel remove his jeans, and let the older man tuck him in under the covers. Tim never slept better than when he was in Daniel's apartment.
Before sleep pulled him completely under, Tim thought he heard Daniel say "I want the job, Tim."
()()()
Tim watched the wine dark sea from the ship's quarterdeck. The moon was dark tonight, but the stars shone brilliantly enough to see by. His companion stood behind him, arms wrapped around Tim's chest and chin resting atop Tim's head.
"Beautiful," The man commented. Tim hummed agreeably.
"Gorgeous," Tim added. "I've never seen the stars like this before."
His companion laughed. "Those too." He leaned down to kiss the join of Tim's neck and shoulder, white hair shining in the corner of Tim's eye. Tim wanted to know what the man looked like. Badly. But he couldn't look yet. He knew that just like he somehow knew they were alone on this ship.
Tim rested one hand atop the arms holding him. "I love you," Tim told his companion, and knew it to be true without knowing why.
"If my love was safe to give, it would be yours," the man swore, untangling one hand to stroke Tim's hair. "But your ruin would be assured. The love of an Endless is no safe thing."
Tim laughed sadly. "Is there anything in my life besides Daniel that is not already ruined? I would rather risk for a little happiness than continue as I am."
()()()
Tim opened his eyes and sat upward, jolted out of sleep suddenly. Daniel stood besides the bed, watching him with almost unnerving intensity. His dark, dark eyes shone with the light of stars, like the night sky of the dream. Tim stared back, holding his breath.
"The love of an Endless is no safe thing," Daniel told him. No, Dream told him. Tim nodded.
"I don't have anything else," Tim said simply. He turned his hand palm upward and offered it to Dream. "Give me a chance?"
Dream considered for endless moment, and took Tim's hand, pulling the mortal against himself.
"My beloved," Dream whispered, holding Tim tight as the world around them shifted.
Tim pressed up on his toes and kissed Dream. "Yours."
"My beloved," Dream repeated, and stepped away from Tim, one hand still holding Tim's own. "Welcome to the Dreaming."
Tim stared in wide-eyed fascination, before yawning, long-delayed exhaustion returning with a vengeance. Dream caught Tim back into his embrace, seating himself on a tall throne and pulling Tim onto his lap.
"Rest now," Dream told him, voice lulling. "You're allowed. The only duty you have is what you choose. Sleep."
Tim nodded, and closed his eyes.
()()()
Tim is allowed to rest now. His lover will watch over him.