Christmas in Blüdhaven: All I Want for Christmas
by Smitty
Tim left by window. The sharp evening wind bit as his face, freezing the skin roughened by weeks of tears and spirit gum.
He felt like he was breaking apart inside.
For one moment, for one terrible, nearly-missed second, he'd been fine. He'd watched Kon pin another flag to the board and for just a second, everything had been normal. They'd done something good. They'd made progress. They were getting somewhere. He'd smiled. He'd smiled.
He hadn't quite smiled, but his mouth was twitching upward when he'd realized himself. He hadn't thought about Steph. He hadn't thought about his father. For just a second, being Robin was back what it was, what it should be. It was winning. Even just a little bit.
He saw danger and attacked. His cape whipped and his bo whistled as he spun forward. He moved on automation, delivering his blows with only the barest sensation of resistance.
When there was nothing left to hit, he looked down at the small girl, alone and out of place in the city night.
"I want my daddy," she said, burying her face in her stuffed bear.
Tim's answer came as involuntarily as his movements.
"So do I."
Author's Note: Christmas in Blüdhaven is written in the same general style as Jingle Bells, my attempt to write 24 200-word ficlets--one per day until Christmas, sort of like an Advent calendar--with characters from around the DCU. Christmas in Blüdhaven differs, however, by each of the ficlets being loosely linked and progressing toward a greater conclusion. The title was derived from the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Christmas in Sarajevo" because everything and everyone in Blüdhaven is currently something of a wreck.