On The Eve
A Word: Christmas eve for the 12 Days of JayTim.
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Tim picks up a plastic car and a deceptively colored piece of plastic that he'd only found with what feels like the softest part of his foot. He dumps them into the toy chest behind the couch before turning the clear that off as well. There's a small army of action figures arranged in an epic battle that get swept up in the empty popcorn bowl before he dumps them in the chest. He checks around the cushions for any toys that might have wriggled their way down. He doesn't find any but he does come up with a dino shaped chicken nugget. He stares at it for a while. There's no mold on it, but it's cold and hard so it's not from tonight's dinner. He tries to remember when they last had them before giving up and dropping it in the bowl.
It gets dumped in the kitchen trash before Tim rinses the bowl off in the sink and wedges it into the dishwasher. It's full enough that Tim adds soap and sets it to run. There's a couple cups of juice and Jason's plate from dinner still on the table. He rinses those and leaves them in the sink for the morning. There's a stack of tupperware on the counter filled with cookies and other treats that appeared when Tim was trying to find one place open that still had milk after he noticed the date on the carton they had in the fridge. He's sorry to have missed Alfred but knows he'll see the older man the next day.
The kitchen is as clean as it ever gets and Tim wanders back into the living room. Clicking off the television and gathering a stray blanket that's made it's way out to the floor. He checks it out of habit, but it's not sticky or wet so he feels safe in assuming it's clean. He hits the lamp and makes his way through the dark hall to the rooms. He eases the door open slowly so that it doesn't squeak and peaks into the disaster area that is the kids' room. The toys are mostly pushed to one side for once, but the bunk beds are empty. Tim throws the blanket on the bottom bunk and turns to cross the hall.
The lamp on Tim's side of the bed is on and Jason's sprawled out on his side of the bed eyes shut. John is sprawled in the middle of the bed fast asleep. Mouth open as the boy breathes through a nose that's just starting to get over his cold. Carrie is curled up on the other side of Jason. The only thing visible of her a tuft of hair and one hand fisted in Jason's shirt.
Tim chuckles and moves in to pull the blankets away from the little girl's face. "Couldn't get them down in their beds could you?"
"Shush you," Jason growls without opening his eyes. "They were plotting ways to trap Santa."
"Well, we can't have that," Tim says with a grin as he walks over to the other side of the bed. Shifting John enough to get under the covers. The boy immediately rolls over and clings to Tim. Snorting once before going still and quiet. "I don't think even Arkham could hold him."
"Like Arkham can hold anyone," Jason mutters as Tim snaps the light off without moving John too much. "Just get some sleep. You know the little monsters'll be up before the sun."
Which is true. Tim doubts they'll make it to six before Carrie's jumping on the bed and John's prodding them awake. Impatient to see what Santa brought them in the night. It's warmer than Tim's used to with the children sleeping with them, but Tim doesn't mind the extra heat and settles down quicker than he's used to. It's not long before Jason's breathing evens out and Tim almost chuckles again, because all it takes is one day of running after two sugared up kids to wear them out anymore.
Tim can't find it in him to mind though. Not one bit.
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