A/N: I am suuuuuuuuuuuuuper new into this fandom. I'm only a few comics in on Tim Drake's story so bare with me. I'm normally a Marvel chick, but I've always been fond of Batman and I absolutely ADORED Teen Titans. But, here goes nothing! I hope y'all love it! =]]
Timothy Drake awoke with a start; his heart pounding and sweat pouring down his forehead. He placed a hand over his heart to try and help calm it as he took deep breaths in, letting them out slowly. Leaning his head back against the headboard, Tim tried to get the images out of his head. Nightmares were something he was used to, but this was more than a nightmare. It was as if he was reliving his failure from the previous night. Each and every single detail was sharp and bright; just as it had been that night.
His breathing was finally becoming normal and his heart was slowing down.
That is until he heard, "Nightmare?"
Tim snapped his head up and saw Richard Grayson standing in the corner of his bedroom.
"Jeez Dick! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Tim demanded, mentally cursing the old Robin in his head as he tried to slow his heart race once more.
"You're losing your touch little brother." Dick smirked, making his way towards the bed. He sat down next time and folded his arms across his chest.
"How long have you been here?" Tim asked quietly.
"About ten minutes," said Dick. "The screams woke me up."
Tim blushed furiously, the shame creeping up from his neck to his face. If he was screaming in his sleep that meant that Alfred and Bruce had heard it too; which of course meant that they were awake now as well. All three of them probably played rock, paper, scissors to see who would get stuck with checking on Tim.
"Wanna talk about it?" Dick asked.
Tim shook his head. He didn't need to relive that night again; especially when he just knew that Dick was disappointed in him; Bruce too he was sure. He had been Robin for almost a year now, there was no reason for him to be making mistakes like he did the other night. He didn't need the reminder that he wasn't good enough; didn't want Dick's fake sympathy.
"You know you can always talk to me right?" Dick asked, nudging Tim in the ribs.
Tim nodded, still not trusting himself to talk just in case he loses it. He can already feel unshed tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, could feel his throat working in order to keep the sobs at bay. Why was Dick acting so nice? He should be yelling and lecturing him right now; asking why he was so careless and why he couldn't just do his job right. There was no way Dick was really worried about him, so why pretend? Tim ducked his head to try and hide the anguish that was no doubt written all over his face, hoping that Dick wouldn't notice.
It did not go unnoticed by Dick.
Dick could practically hear the gears turning in Tim's head. He was clearly upset and who could blame the kid? A civilian died the other night, not Tim's first of course, but that didn't make it hurt any less. It still cut Dick to pieces whenever someone died while he was trying to protect them. Plus, Tim had the absolute worse inferiority complex Dick had ever seen.
Dick wrapped an arm around Tim's shoulders, feeling the boy stiffen immediately at the touch. Tim wasn't shown any kind of affection when he was younger and even though he had been around the Batfamily for two years, he still wasn't used to it. Dick could feel the tension in Tim's shoulders. He was more than likely beating himself up over the civilian that had died. The older Batkid wanted to comfort the younger, but with Tim you had to be careful. He was very skittish and would bolt the first chance he got.
Dick started massaging Tim's shoulders, a trick he had learned when Tim had first come to live in the manor. Tim was a sucker for shoulder massages. It never failed to absolutely melt the kid.
And sure enough, Tim moaned quietly, sinking into Dick's touch.
Dick smirked. "Shoulder massages for the win."
"Shuddup." Tim slurred, sinking even further against Dick.
Dick worked his magic on Tim's shoulders for a moment, before bringing up the actual problem Tim was having.
"It's not your fault Timmy." Dick said softly.
Tim was too far gone to leave like he normally would. The young Robin knew that his older brother was fighting dirty, Dick knew how helpless he was against shoulder massages.
"Civies die sometimes little bird," said Dick. "You can't always stop it."
"I don't like failing." Tim whispered.
"It's not failing Timmy. It's just life."
"You're just saying that," Tim replied. "I know you're mad at me; Bruce too."
That actually surprised Dick. Why in the world would Tim think that they would be mad at him? The whole mission had sucked and in all honesty the civilian they had lost died of his own accord. Tim had told the man to stay put but when the gun fire rang out he got scared and ran, getting caught in the crossfire.
"Tim, what're you talking about?" Dick asked, stopping the massage and forcing Tim around to face him. "Why would we be mad at you?"
"Because I failed." Tim replied simply.
"Failed what?"
"Failed the mission, the team; you and Batman."
It was times like this that Dick really wanted to punch Tim's dad in the face. Of course, the guy was in a coma and Tim probably wouldn't appreciate it very much but that didn't stop him from thinking it. Tim's mother was no better but Dick never spoke ill of the dead. Anytime anything happened, Tim blamed himself. Hell, the kid probably blamed himself for the global debt crises.
"You didn't fail Tim. You—" Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. Tim was not the problem here. Dick grabbed Tim's shoulders and forced the young Robin to look him in the eyes. "You are not a failure Tim, no look at me," Tim had looked down but Dick grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up once more. "You did not fail and Bruce and I are not mad at you."
"You should be…" Tim mumbled.
"No. Look, that guy ran when you told him not to."
"I could've stopped him." Tim interrupted.
"How?" Dick asked. "How could you have stopped him?"
"I should've…"
"What? Tied him up? Handcuffed him to yourself?" Dick asked, raising a brow.
Tim shrugged.
"There was nothing you could've done. He just got spooked."
Tim said nothing, just nodded, trying to absorb Dick's words and believe them.
"You've got to stop beating yourself up over this, you're gonna make yourself sick." Dick added.
"I'm fine." Tim replied.
"No you're not. But you are done worrying about this. No more brooding. I won't let you." Dick retorted, a petulant tone to his voice. Tim felt the corners of his mouth rise slightly at the childishness Dick was displaying currently.
"Well would ya look at that, an actual smile." Dick said teasingly. Tim schooled his features immediately and turned his head away with an eye roll.
"Oh no you don't. I need more Timmy smiles." Dick said, grabbing at Tim, pulling him in a headlock and ruffling his hair.
"Get off!" Tim cried, trying to keep the grin off his face.
"Smile for me!" Dick demanded, suddenly digging his fingers into Tim's sides.
"Ah! Dick! No!" Tim gasped, squirming madly. For someone who had never really been touched much as a kid, Tim was absurdly ticklish.
"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of you not smiling."
"Thahahaht doesn't mahahahake s-sense!" Tim got out through his giggles. He hated to admit that he was giggling, but there really was no other word for it.
"It makes perfect sense," said Dick. "Now, stop squirming and take your punishment like a man!"
"I cahahahahan't w-with you tihihihickling mehehehe!" Tim replied, trying his hardest to get away.
He managed to get out of Dick's arms and he booked it out of the room and down the stairs. He wasn't exactly sure where it was he was trying to get to, just as long as it was far away from Dick's torturous fingers. He thought he was making good headway until he heard Dick's footsteps way too close behind him. Tim snuck a glance over his shoulder and that was his downfall. Dick used the slight falter in Tim's steps and tackled him to the ground, pinning his arms above his head with one hand and clamping his legs down tightly around Tim's narrow waist.
"Dick, please don't!" Tim begged, a huge grin on his face even though he wasn't too keen on being tortured in this way.
"Please don't what?" Dick asked, cocking his head to the side with an innocent look on his face.
"Tickle me!" Tim exclaimed, that 'duh' tone to his voice.
"Tickle you? Well I mean, if you really want me to." Dick replied, cracking his knuckles.
Tim wanted to groan and smack himself in the forehead, he couldn't believe he fell for that track. Again. But of course he couldn't dwell on that thought anymore because Dick decided that Tim's ribs were a good place to stick his fingers in. Tim let out a peal of laughter, and Dick grinned. Tim never laughed like this. He would chuckle here and there and giggle a bit if he heard a dirty joke. But this? This full on belly laugh that made him actually sound and look like a little kid? No, he never laughed like this, but Dick was going to milk it now for all it was worth.
And probably do this at least once a month.
Maybe once a week.
Okay, who was he kidding? He was going to torture Timmy like this every day for the rest of his life.
"Dihihihihihihick! Ahahahahaha! Plehehehease!" Tim shook his head back and forth, kicking his legs as Dick tickled the ever loving snot out of him.
"No way!" Dick crowed. "You never laugh like this, I'm not stopping any time soon!"
Dick began moving his hands up towards Tim's underarms. Tim shrieked and tugged furiously at his arms, making Dick almost let go.
Almost.
"STAHAHAHAHAP!" Tim begged. Dick was scrabbling his fingers all over the sensitive skin, digging right in the middle with his thumbs before darting down to wiggle in between Tim's rib bones.
"What're you gonna do when one of the bad guys finds out you're ticklish as hell?" Dick laughed.
"PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!" Tim had tears in his eyes now. His face was red and he was almost cackling at this point.
"Master Richard, let Master Timothy breathe." A voice said.
Dick looked up and saw Alfred standing at the bottom of the stair case, already dressed in his suit. Did the guy even own any other clothes?
"Hey there Alfie." Dick responded with a cocky grin.
"Ahahahalfrehehehed! H-Hehehehelp mehehe!" Tim giggled. Dick hadn't stopped tickling, but he had slowed down, simply running his fingers up and down Tim's sides.
"I do not believe he should be that shade of red." Alfred told Dick. "Master Timothy, I seem to remember another young Robin who was afflicted with the same weakness." Alfred told Tim, a sly look on his face.
"Alfred!" Dick gasped. "You swore you'd never tell!"
"Tell what? That you're more ticklish than Elmo?" A new voice added.
Bruce Wayne joined Alfred, a grin on his face as he watched his two sons play. Tim was trying to push at Dick's hands now that his own weren't pinned, of course Dick was much bigger and stronger than Tim so it had absolutely no affect.
"Bruce!" Dick sounded betrayed.
"He was particularly ticklish on his hips and knees." Alfred commented.
"Alfred!"
"You want revenge little bird?" Bruce asked Tim.
"Yehehes!" Tim shouted, relief flooding through him as Dick finally stopped tickling.
Dick quickly scrambled to his feet and took a big step backwards.
"Bruce…don't even think about it…" Dick warned.
Bruce smirked. "Run."
And Dick was off, sprinting up the stairs with Bruce hot on his heels. Tim was still lying on the ground, panting for breath when Dick's laughter started ringing through the manor.
"I do believe you could have your revenge if you choose so Master Timothy." Alfred said, a small smile on his face.
"Any other tips?" Tim asked as he got to his feet.
"Right above his kneecaps made him laugh particularly hard and shrill," said Alfred. "This tool allowed me to get Master Richard to stop walking on the furniture with his shoes on."
"You used to tickle Dick?" Tim asked, eyes wide.
Alfred smirked. "Go get your revenge young Master. Dick won't allow Bruce to continue for too much longer."
Tim grinned at the butler and rushed upstairs.
"TIHIHIHIHIHIMMY! NOHOHOHOHO!"
Alfred grinned, full and wide, as he turned to start making breakfast; relishing the sounds of his boys' laughter.