AN: For JayTim week, day four- photography
"What is that?" Tim asks, horrified. His voice echoes and comes back to him sounding awfully shrill. The harness digs into his thighs as he relaxes into it, taking some of the pressure off his hands. It's been a long decent, and they're only about half of the way down.
"That would be a giant mound of guano."
Tim stares. Below him, rising up from the floor of the cave, is...
"Bat shit," Jason clarifies. "A lot of it. And cockroaches, spiders, centipedes. All manner of bugs, really. Even crabs."
Tim takes a moment to try and remember if he actually and willingly signed up for this, and yes, he can recall being excited for the job, but no, he has no memory of Bruce saying a damn thing about mountains of bat shit and cockroaches. Bruce had also failed to mention that Jason would be his partner for this assignment, doubtless an intentional omission. Jason obviously knew what to expect, and why he got this information while Tim didn't, Tim wants to know. He knows why Jason chose not to share it though, he can see it in the self-satisfied smirk on Jason's stupid face.
Tim looks up, to the mouth of the cave, where fresh air and sunlight await him. He looks around, at the roof and walls of the cave, where bats are nesting and dust floats through the fading shafts of light. He looks down, at the floor of the cave, which is not so much a floor as much as... Well.
But that explains the white coverall suits they're wearing, because when they get down… there, they'll be glad to be completely protected.
He thinks for a minute about backing out, turning down the job and scrambling back up the line to the surface. Swinging gently beside him, Jason waits patiently for him to come to terms with it all.
"Come on, man. I'm not gonna just hang around here all day."
Or not so patiently.
"Okay," Tim breathes shakily, but with a firm nod. He's going to do this. He'll get it done if it kills him (which, it actually might; cave exploration is not casualty free) because otherwise Jason would win. He won't have that.
And so they descend. Further and further away from dry, warm, safe ground. Deeper into the darkness and soon they both flip on the flashlights attached to their helmets. The rock wall they're clinging to is slimy and cold, even through the gloves. Gradually the sound of millions of flapping bat wings and chirps fades, and another sound comes from the cave floor. At first it reminds Tim of rain, and he actually glances up to see if the weather has taken a turn, but he can't see the surface well enough, they're too far down, and then he figures it out: the cockroaches. Hundreds of thousands of them, crawling over each other, their shells clicking. Tim shudders.
It takes an hour to reach the bottom. Tim utters a small prayer of gratitude for the ledge they land on, thin as it may be, that runs along the wall of the cave at about halfway the height of the mound. They stand there a moment in silence after detaching from their spelunking equipment, staring out at the horror in front of them.
"Gross," Tim says.
Jason looks like he agrees with the sentiment but doesn't want to agree with Tim, and so says nothing.
They get to work, not wanting to spend any more time in the place (or with each other) than absolutely necessary, pulling out the equipment they'll need. Jason sets up some collapsable standing lamps and points them to shine over the mound. The way the creatures' shells catch the light is disorienting, but almost beautiful. Almost. Light established, Tim crouches down at the edge of the rock. While still a wonderfully safe distance away from the mound, there is the odd cockroach or centipede nearby, and he is grateful again for the protective suit. He starts to shoot. Test shots at first, to get a feel for the light and and the movement of everything, then he focuses on a certain section and begins to capture the shots he'll be turning in to Bruce.
Ten minutes later he's engrossed, disgusted and yet fascinated by his subject matter, when something lands on his shoulder and slithers down his back. With a yelp, Tim rocks forward in an instinctive move to get away from whatever the hell just decided to get friendly with him, and he teeters dangerously over the edge of the ledge. Flailing his left arm in hopes of regaining his balance (the right tucked against his chest, protecting the camera), Tim finds himself hoping Jason will pull him back. Sure, he would hate to be saved by Jason, being in debt to Jason in any way or Jason being able to give him more little smug looks is the second to last thing Tim wants. But the very last thing Tim wants is to fall into the mountain of bat shit and bugs, so he hopes. Last he checked Jason was standing only two feet away, so he should be able to catch Tim in time, but Tim realises, as he tips toward his doom, it's not happening. He's going down.
With a sick thud, Tim lands on a bed of squirming, seething nastiness. It wasn't far enough of a fall to injure him, so the only damage done is psychological (Tim expects there will be much of that). Immediately he can feel things starting to crawl over him, and he tries to stand, but only gets as far as pushing up to his hands and knees before he starts to sink. He watches his gloved hands disappear into the mound and thinks he might actually be in danger of being buried and eaten alive and therefore throws all pride away and yells, "Jason!"
He gets a hum in response, and when he turns to look, Jason is standing much further away from where he had been previously, and he's pointing his camera in the opposite direction.
"I need some help," Tim calls.
Jason glances over and any ideas Tim had of Jason simply being ignorant of Tim's plight are smashed to bits, because Jason isn't surprised at all. Doesn't seem too concerned, either. Tim starts to suspect that Jason saw him falling and deliberately walked away. Maybe he even pushed.
"What are you doing down there?" Jason asks casually.
"Something landed on me, I freaked out a little and fell."
"Oh, yeah, I probably should have told you about the snakes. They like to dive from the rocks up there."
"Would you help me out?"
Turning away again, Jason brings his camera back up and click, click, clicks away. "Sorry, buddy, wish I could, but I've got the angle of a lifetime here. The big man would kill me if I let this slip."
"Are you kidding me?" Tim needs to reevaluate the situation between him and Jason, because he knew there was animosity, but he apparently didn't realise quite how much Jason hates him. Which, clearly, is close to murderous levels. But he'll do that later, when he's not rolling around in guano. Since he obviously is getting no help, Tim resolves to get himself out. He pulls his hands free slowly, and tries to do the same for his right knee, but then his left sinks in further and he tips to the side.
"Can you flail a little to the left? Your shadow is messing with my lighting."
Tim doesn't answer but he sends a finger Jason's way as he gets into a crouching position again.
"While you're down there, get a close up of that bat over there? It fell in and is being eaten up by the cockroaches. Poor thing's still alive, but it'll make a great shot."
"Oh, fuck you!" Tim shouts, and it echos around them, and some of the bugs nearest him even startle away for a brief moment.
Jason sighs. "Fine, fine. No need to get so worked up, Timmy. Not like I would actually leave you down there forever."
The scary part is, Tim's not sure whether he believes that.
"Just one second..." Jason says, before he trains his lens right on Tim.
"Don't you dare-"
Click.
"Got it," Jason tells him proudly. "We'll put that one on the office Christmas card."
Setting down his camera in a safe spot, Jason kneels at the edge. Tim scrambles over best he can to reach Jason's outstretched arm and as he's pulled up he marvels a bit at how easily Jason is able to lift him. When he's back on the rock Tim nearly cries in relief.
Then Jason smacks him.
Stumbling a step back from the force of the blow to his chest, Tim yells, "What the hell?"
"You've got critters on you, I'm just trying to help," Jason reasons. "Or I could leave them."
"Fine," Tim mumbles, and for the next few minutes endures Jason slapping the bugs off of him, likely harder than is needed.
"All set," Jason says with a grin, and one last smack to Tim's ass.