Gifts From the Sea, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Batfam Bingo 2019: AU: Zoo
Chapter 29 - Adorable Little Homewrecker (rough draft 2)
Bruce had a new sea child in need of care and attention. He was determined not to love this one, he had learned the hard way that it would hurt too damn much whenever he inevitably lost the boy. But he could feed and tend and teach and attempt to entertain Tim without loving him, so that was what he set about doing.
Once the child had two sets of measuring spoons to occupy him, Bruce dragged the kiddie pool away from the window and refilled it, set up the second one he had, then ordered more online. Tim's tentacles couldn't be neatly contained in a plastic sleeve the way Dick's tail had, so unless or until Bruce thought up a better solution, he'd just have to keep pools of saltwater available all around the ground floor of the house for Tim to dip into whenever he needed to rehydrate.
Next order of business was to call the fisherman in town Bruce had used to do a lot of business with to re-establish a standing order for fresh fish. When he hung up, he jumped a little at the feel of something slimy curling around his ankle, and he looked down to find the boy staring up at him.
"I'm ordering your food," Bruce explained, then remembered to sign it. Tim copied him curiously.
"I will give you food. You will eat the food." He spent a while explaining the grammar, though he couldn't tell whether or not Tim understood. "All right, let's try more vocabulary."
He assembled a pile of random objects and started holding them out to Tim one by one, saying their names as he did. Tim took each one, but once all ten of his limbs were full, he paused and looked at them all. Then he looked back at the squirt bottle Bruce was holding.
"Squirt bottle," Bruce said again, putting the bottle down so he could sign.
Tim had stopped repeating the signs two objects ago, since his hands were now occupied with a pair of tongs and a baseball cap. He studied all the objects he was holding, then finally released the cap and picked up the squirt bottle. He squeezed the handle like Bruce had earlier. Nothing came out, since the bottle was empty, but his tentacles all made a brief gesture like a girl twirling her skirt, and he started squeezing a little more rapidly.
"Hole punch," Bruce said, holding out the next item.
Once again, Tim took a while to decide which object to release in order to make room for the new one. When Bruce held up yet another new item, the mer's tentacles sort of scrunched and he suddenly surged forward. He knocked the desk calendar out of Bruce's hand and settled over the pile of objects like a dragon brooding over its hoard, teeth bared, tentacles flailing as they seized random items, convulsively dropped them, and grabbed others.
"All right...I see that you're angry. Or maybe frustrated. Are you frustrated?" Bruce asked, signing the words.
He was a little startled when small hands gripped his hard, forcing them still. Then Tim retreated, his tentacles knocking a whole cluster of items halfway across the room, and rapidly crawled to the nearest kiddie pool. He climbed inside, dragged the blanket Bruce had set next to it over himself, and went still.
"Finished," Bruce called. "You are finished for now. That's okay."
Then he set about cleaning up.
o.o.o
Having a goal was...strange. Bruce had spent so long feeling heartsick and energyless that it was weird to have something genuinely important to work on, to not feel like wanting to crawl into bed all the time. With Tim's care to occupy him, now he only felt the urge to nap two or three times a day instead of constantly.
The next time he woke up, he looked around for the mer but didn't see him immediately. "Tim," he called. He wandered into the kitchen and then stopped dead, staring.
Tim sat in an office chair in the entry to the pantry, holding a ripped cardboard box in his hands. The area immediately around him was flooded with dry pasta in the shapes of cartoon characters (Dick had picked that out months ago, Bruce suddenly remembered. They'd both forgotten about it). One entire tentacle, curved up into the air, was coated with the stuff, and Tim was watching in fascination as pasta bits slowly slid down the moist limb.
"What are you doing?" Bruce said blankly.
Tim looked at him. Then he gave the box to a tentacle so he could sign, "Go away."
"Tim, you're making a mess. When the actual toys I've ordered arrive, you're going to start playing with those and not with food or household items." He started to make his way over to the pantry. Tim reached out with most of his tentacles, grasping cabinet handles and sticking suckers to flat surfaces. He pulled himself along on the rolling chair, moving around the kitchen away from Bruce.
Bruce wearily rubbed at his temples. "Why is this my life...?"
Tim watched as Bruce cleaned up his latest mess, then tried to retreat again when Bruce came for him. "No." Bruce scooped the boy off the rolling chair, ignoring the limbs wrapping around him. He carried Tim over to the nearest kiddie pool and dunked him until all the remaining pasta pieces had floated free. Then he methodically unwound two tentacles from his arm, contorting to stick his calf in the way when two more tentacles reached to recapture it. Now with his legs bound, he grabbed a waiting aquarium net and started scooping pasta from the water, dumping the pieces into a bag in his other hand, which he kept having to quickly hold shut against inquisitive tentacle tips.
Once he'd finally collected the last of the pasta, he started dragging himself back to the kitchen, trying to elevate his legs so he wouldn't hurt the tentacles still clutching them. Then Tim apparently tired of holding him captive and the tentacles abruptly released, allowing Bruce to get to his feet and dispose of the soggy pasta.
Bruce took a moment to collect himself, then went back to the living room. "Tim?" The child had vanished again, and Bruce resisted the impulse to bang his head against the wall.
He followed the damp trail to a closet, where Tim was nesting under a pile of shoes. When Bruce opened the door, the little boy held up the tablet in his hands and insistently poked at the home button. The screen remained black and unresponsive.
"It probably needs to be recharged," Bruce explained. He sighed. "The tablet's waterproof, but I can't let you handle it when it's plugged into an electrical socket. You're wet, so it's dangerous."
He went and climbed over the baby gate in order to plug in the tablet upstairs. When he came back, it was to the sight of Tim holding Bruce's current phone, tapping insistently at the screen. Unlike outdated devices like the tablet, Bruce's phone thankfully had a passcode that the child hadn't figured out yet. "No." Bruce swiped the device out of his hands. "You're welcome to almost everything in this house, but not my phone."
Tim made four grabby hands, two with his actual hands and two with tentacles.
"No. Let me get you something else." As Bruce was sorting through a basket of 'safe for the octopus child to play with' items, he felt an intrusion into his back pocket. "For God's sake..."
He wasn't quite quick enough to catch his phone, and Tim rapidly backed away as soon as he had it. Bruce made several grabs for the device, but it kept getting passed to a new limb every time. "Oh, for crying out loud!" He was not used to dealing with a single person who had so many limbs.
Changing tack, Bruce hunted down both sets of measuring spoons and grabbed some more stuff out of the toy basket. He crouched back down by Tim, who narrowed his eyes and shifted to shield the phone with his small body. "You like these?" Bruce asked, offering one of the spoon sets.
Tim looked at him warily, but took it.
"How about these?"
Tim took the second as well.
"This is pretty cool, too, right?" Bruce continued, holding out the Rubik's Cube.
Once all ten of the mer's limbs were filled, Bruce was finally successful in plucking the phone out of his hand. "I'll take that," he said, holding it out of reach. A tentacle dropped the coffee mug it was holding and reached for the phone, but this time Bruce was ready for it, blocking its way with a slinky. The tentacle automatically closed on the toy. Another tentacle was already shooting toward the phone, but as it was still gripping the baseball it had been given earlier, it only bumped harmlessly against Bruce's hand.
Tim went completely still for a moment. Then, slowly, one of his tentacles released the glasses case it had been holding and made another try for the phone. Bruce pushed a cardboard tube at it, and it grasped the item compulsively. Tim actually glared at his own tentacle.
"This phone is mine. Don't touch. You can have almost anything else." Bruce went to put the phone up on a high shelf.
Tim spent the next hour sulking, making more messes and then watching Bruce clean them up in what seemed like a vengefully satisfied sort of way. Bruce finally brought the tablet back downstairs and sat down. Tim rested his whole body on the ground, watching Bruce warily.
"It's charged up, so now you can play with it." Bruce scrolled consideringly through the apps, then tapped the camera icon and snapped a photo. He turned the screen to show Tim.
The mer jerked upright and stared, going completely still for a moment. Then he dropped almost everything he was holding and surged forward, taking the tablet into his arms. He hunched over it intently.
"That's you, see? I took a photograph of you. Photo." He tapped the mer's shoulder to get his attention long enough for him to see the ASL sign. "Photo."
"...Photo," Tim signed cautiously, then immediately looked back at the screen.
Bruce reached through the tangle of limbs and tapped. "If you want to take some photos yourself, here's how to do it." With Tim still clinging tightly to the tablet, he levered it upright enough to take another picture.
Tim sat up straight, staring again. He looked at the living room, then back at the screen. A tentacle hovered uncertainly.
"Not with your tentacle. Use your hand." Bruce gently pushed the tentacle out of the way and pointed. After a moment, Tim used his finger to prod at the spot Bruce indicated. Bruce guided him through the steps until he was able to take a picture himself.
Tim stared, his tentacles doing the skirt-twirl thing again. Then he held up the tablet and tapped. When he lowered it again, Bruce saw a blurry picture of himself.
"You have to hold the tablet as still as you can so that the picture will come out clear."
Once Tim had gotten the hang of it, he took photo after photo. After two hours, he finally went still, then tried to drag the tablet into a pool with him. Bruce had to take it away; this time, Tim accidentally let go of it while trying to avoid grabbing onto the distraction-toys Bruce kept handing him. The mer hissed and retreated into the water, hiding under the blanket.
"It may be waterproof, but it's not meant to stay submerged for long periods of time, kiddo." Bruce sighed and flopped onto the couch. Although he hadn't been doing anything particularly strenuous, depression was still a thing, and he was exhausted. Since it probably wasn't the best idea to leave this kid unsupervised, he ought to grab a nap whenever Tim slept. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately.
o.o.o
Tim wasn't in the pool when Bruce woke up. The man groaned and then set about searching the house, growing more and more concerned when he failed to locate the mer. Any tracks had dried by now.
Bruce considered a moment, then fetched his thermal imaging goggles and made another circuit of the ground floor.
There was something in the closet, even though Bruce had already checked it. The shape was a roundish lump and faintly-colored compared to a human heat signature, but odds were it was Tim. Bruce took off the goggles and opened the closet.
Tim was still nowhere in sight, but Bruce frowned at the suitcase that was lying in about the same spot the heat signature had been. He crouched down and lifted the lid.
Tim was curled up inside with a soggy blanket and the tablet, looking quite comfortable. He bared his teeth at Bruce and tugged the suitcase closed again.
Bruce stared for a moment, not sure how to react. Then his phone dinged with an alert from his security system and he confirmed that it was what he assumed it was.
"Mail's here." Bruce zipped the suitcase three-quarters of the way shut and then slowly raised it, feeling Tim shift inside. Once the suitcase was upright and the mer had stilled, Bruce extended the handle and then fetched the wagon, awkwardly rolling both vehicles behind him. A couple of curious tentacles snaked out of the gap in the suitcase and felt around, but Tim stayed put.
The regular supply delivery was waiting at the end of the pier. It was bigger than usual, since this time it included all the purchases Bruce had made the day before. Bruce loaded everything into the wagon and then headed back.
Tim's tentacles poked through the packages, but since they were all boring box shapes, he didn't resist when Bruce started unloading them in the kitchen. When Bruce opened the container of live fish, Tim shoved the opening in the suitcase wider and started to emerge. "These are for-"
Tentacles were already reaching to snag the creatures. Tim popped them into his mouth and watched Bruce as he chewed.
"I'm not going to take them away, but you're going to need to pace yourself. These are supposed to last at least a few days." Bruce put the lid back on and transferred the remaining fish to the 'holding pen' aquarium. "Look, Tim, there's more."
Tim was captivated by the fidget toys. Bruce gave him three to start with, saving the rest for later, and Tim sat there on the floor, riveted by the squishy ball in his hands and the click-clacking toys in his tentacles.
"Hopefully that'll keep you occupied so you'll stop wrecking the house, hm?"
Tim made no response, not even bothering to look up. Bruce smiled a little and then started putting together some breakfast.
TBC
