Merry Christmas~
Well my head is dead and my mind is fed up of all this stupid time
That has dropped off the clock and I've avoided the knock
From the monster that's been running my life
He's ugly as hell and well, his heart is broken
His eyes tell a tale with words unspoken
He dreams of a day when he can honestly say he's alright
-This Love, "Free"
Then.
"What do you mean you guys haven't kissed yet?"
The end of December was drawing near, and they had just finished with first semester finals. The four of them trekked through fresh snow back to the dorms, Steph and Cass taking the lead while Conner and Tim tailed behind, the latter lingering a distance so as not to let the girls overhear their conversation. Tim watched as the blonde in front of him stretched her arms to the air, blissfully exclaiming: "Ahh freedom at last~" before anxiously asking her friend what she got on one of the more difficult Physics questions.
"It just… hasn't really come up… We've been studying so much since then, there's never been a good time…"
Conner shook his head.
"Dude, that's no excuse. You gotta keep her satisfied if you plan to hold onto her past holiday break. Sometimes you just gotta go for these things, man." He paused, clapping a hand on his companion's shoulder as he suggestively leaned in closer. "Listen, Christmas is coming; that means mistletoe season. It's a prime opportunity. If you want, I can totally set something up for you two…"
"I don't need your assistance."
Although Tim scoffed at his roomie's waggling eyebrows, the worry of not measuring up to expectations had been weighing substantially on him over the past few weeks. Dick kept trying to push him to be more assertive as well, and had even insisted on lending him a collection of certain kinds of "magazines" as "reference material"…
"Hey, what are you boys whispering about back there?"
Stephanie had swiveled around and approached the pair, suspicious of Conner's smirk and Tim's evidently embarrassed expression.
"You wouldn't be bullying my boyfriend, now would you?"
She wrapped herself protectively – possessively – around Tim, who bloomed an intense shade of pink at suddenly finding himself being fought over.
"Me? A bully? Wherever would you get that idea?"
Conner whistled innocently, while Cassandra observed the three in silence. Tim shot her a pleading look to get him out of this predicament, thinking "free me" as hard as he could, but she simply smiled slightly. Damnit, was she actually amused by his humiliation?
"Tim, don't listen to what that mean ol' brute says." Steph squished her mortified prize tightly, magnifying his discomfiture further as she stuck her tongue out at her opponent, who huffed in indignation.
"Please, if I were actually a bully, I'd do something like this."
Without warning, he stooped to scoop up a clump of crystal flakes, flinging the freezing projectile at Stephanie, who screeched and released in order to defend herself.
"Why you-"
She laughed like a shriek as she shivered and shook the ice shavings out of her mane, crouching to collect ammo herself. Packing heat – or rather coldness in this case – as she launched a quick counterattack. They began pelting each other gleefully with polar pellets, while Tim spectated uncertainly, wavering whether to break the battle up… Until a wayward missile errantly missed its mark, instead splatting straight onto his face.
"…Ah."
The combatants immobilized, glancing in nervous remorse at the unintended casualty, who stood there in complete shock for a moment. Stephanie instantly flashed back to the water gun incident, and gulped apprehensively, afraid they might've made another mistake. (At least she wasn't entirely the one to blame this time.)
As before, Tim wordlessly wiped the wetness dripping down his cheek – before calmly bending down and gathering a lump to lob right back at his assailant. Conner yelped as the unanticipated retaliation caught him by surprise, while Steph burst into an excited beam.
"Boo-yah! Tim's on my team!"
She eagerly declared as she aided her partner in an aggressive revenge, ruthlessly ganging up on their target as he raised his hands in a desperate attempt to shield himself.
"Hey, no fair! Cass, help me!"
Fair? They were up against a superhuman and a psychic, Tim privately thought to himself. Although to be fair, Cassandra denied the other's turn to beg for mercy, merely casting a lolling glimpse that quite plainly said: "You brought this on yourself, mister. Now deal with the consequences." …As she simply sidestepped any stray shrapnel without choosing sides.
As they clobbered each other with clods of frost, people stopped and gawked at the infamous group of so-called "freaks" playing enthusiastically like little kids in the courtyard, but none of said shunned subjects even cared, too engrossed in their game to pay patronizing passersby any heed. Tim could sense his self-consciousness slipping away as he pitched and dodged, slipping back into old practiced habits of evading punches and bullets. The exhilaration he felt now was perhaps even more fulfilling though, without real risk of legitimate danger to his life or others'. …When he witnessed Steph was right in the path of a sizeable snowball's trajectory though, he dove on instinct, tackling directly to the ground.
He blinked as they abruptly found their features so very near to each other, flushed and respiring heavily from combined adrenaline and chill. Rapidly beating hearts and heat of their bodies connecting through thick sugarcoated layers. He could distinguish individual flecks of powder from the fluffy pile they had landed on dusting her long lashes as they fluttered up at her "hero", feathery and fair. Complexion as rosy as her lips, waiting with bated breath. Tim swallowed, before hastily rolling off.
"S- sorry."
Stephanie sighed at the release of pressure, flopping back in familiar disappointment. She soon started giggling though, and before long Tim joined her as they took a timeout to just lie there laughing for a minute. …And maybe after a while he's laughing a little too loud and too long, but by God it felt good to let his happiness out uninhibited like this, after so many years of holding himself back. He couldn't remember the last time he had this much fun.
As soon as the chuckles subsided and they sat up though, Stephanie was startled by a sudden smack to her temple. At first they both assumed it was a signal of resuming the bout, but for some reason the assault seemed a lot harsher and more painful than before.
"Ow!"
She cringed on contact. Tim's pupils widened when he saw scarlet seeping down her forehead, staining the rich white beneath them. …Where a rock jutted out from the bank.
"Steph, you're – you're bleeding…"
She touched a finger to her brow in disbelief, stunned to discover drops of crimson come off on her tip. Tim spun around towards Conner, who immediately denied any involvement, shaking his head in equal horror.
"Tim, I swear to God, bud, it wasn't me."
Tim swerved and glared angrily at their surroundings, as every member in the audience awkwardly averted their gaze. He grabbed the stone and stood up, grip so severe it stabbed into his own flesh.
"Who the fuck threw that?!"
He shouted at a volume high enough for the entire yard to hear, likely disturbing some of the classes where students were still testing as well. He didn't give a shit about that though, seething to the core. Doubt darted in every whispering, snickering direction, until his vision landed on their other comrade, who remained oddly mute even in this situation. His perception narrowed. She didn't look guilty per se (and he refused to believe she would ever dare renege on her pledge to never do anything to harm Steph), but something about her shifty, shrinking appearance told him she was definitely hiding something.
"…You know who did it, don't you? You can tell."
Cassandra bit her lip, declining to answer. Tim stalked towards her, seizing her shoulders roughly as he demanded a response.
"Tell me who it was – right now."
"I…"
She winced at the strength of his clutch, cowering under his looming fury. Conner's own lion rage awakened as he lunged forth to fasten around Tim's wrist like a vice, violently pulling him away with a far greater force.
"Oi, get away from her!" He barked as he twisted Tim around, locking both limbs in a firm hold. "You need to cool it."
Tim's view darkened with a grim pall, as he lowered to avoid meeting the larger male's lecturing look.
"Let go of me, Conner."
He growled, glowering defiantly.
"And what'll you do if I release you? Supposing you do find out the culprit?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Tim's irises flared dangerously. "I'll beat 'em to a bloody pulp."
"And then what? Get your ass suspended again? Kicked out? Lose your scholarship?" Conner hissed in a cruel, but concerned tone. "Stop and think for a damn second, will you?"
Tim scowled, but eventually his fist uncoiled. Conner loosened a little, relaxing as Tim's appendage obediently descended. Stephanie spoke up softly.
"It's all right, guys. I'm okay, really…"
There was liquid leaking through her cupped palm though, and Tim bristled again, but Conner clamped him down, resolutely shaking his head.
"Let it go, Tim. Let's just get her to the infirmary."
Conner offered his hand to help her up, while Tim looked on uselessly. He eluded Steph's perspective as he stuffed his own empty paws into his pockets.
"You guys go on ahead," he muttered. "I'm gonna… go cool off."
"Tim? Wait, where are you going?"
Stephanie strove to stop him, struggling against Conner's support, but Tim had already taken off, escaping towards the dormitories. When he reached his room, he slumped against the entry, sinking to the floor with his own cranium cradled in his hands. Reflecting back on his confrontation with Cassandra, for even though she hadn't acknowledged anything aloud, he could still hear the reluctant reply resounding inside his brain:
…They had been aiming for you.
"Goddamnit!"
He revolved and pounded his knuckles into the wall, not caring if he caused any damage to either it or himself. Another voice murmured mildly beside his ear, smooth and satiated by the display of outright hostility. Insanity. Delightedly feeding on such delicious despair and self-loathing.
Now you see what happens when you get close to others? Let this be a lesson to you, JJ. Don't you get it? You're a blight, diseased. A dirty, perverted curse that contaminates, taints every single thing you touch – nothing but a burden, who brings suffering to everyone around you. A monster just like me.
"Get. Out. Of. My. Head."
Tim screamed as he slammed his skull against the partition to try and get it to shut up, and when that didn't work, he hurled himself onto the bed, trying to cover his crown with the pillow. Of course it didn't succeed in suppressing the scalding speech either though, slowly consuming, corroding his corrupted soul from the inside out.
You're toxic. Don't forget that. Your existence is poison – pure and simple. I'm the only one who can withstand it. You don't need them. Nor do you belong with them. Come back to me, my darling. Daddy will make it all better, I promise…
"Leave. Me. ALONE!"
Tim yelled at the top of his lungs as he chucked the cushion at his hallucination, who only hovered out of the way and cackled. The boy buried his visage into the sheets, smothering his polluted presence, shoulders shuddering as he began to laugh like crazy again – until he cried.
…
Some time later, he heard a knock on the door as it creaked open cautiously. He didn't elevate to look, but he knew Conner was standing there, taking in the pathetic sight of his flatmate flat on the mattress.
"Yo."
He entered, closing the access behind him as he crossed over and sat down gently next to Tim. After an uncomfortable gap, he cleared his throat.
"Cass reported the one who did it to the dean. They won't be coming back after break. …She told me what happened. It's not your fault, man."
"The hell it isn't."
Tim spat as he flipped over, sleeve still shrouding his inflamed eyes. At length he removed a fraction of fabric though to peek at the other boy's back, inquiring fretfully:
"…How is she?"
"They're treating her at the nurse's office. It's not as bad as it looks. She'll be fine," Conner reassured. "She kept asking after you though. She's worried about you, bro. …We all are."
Tim said nothing, scrutinizing the ceiling.
"She wants to see you."
"I don't… deserve to see her." Tim choked, eyes welling up again. "How can I face her like this?"
Conner's countenance soured as he started to lose patience, resorting to somewhat stricter tactics in an effort to snap him out of it.
"Stop being a selfish prick. This isn't about you. It's about what she needs. And right now she needs you. So stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself, get the fuck up, and go see your goddamn girlfriend before I fucking kick your ass."
He snatched Tim's collar as he said this, in order to prove he would make good on the threat if necessary, hoisting the sagging sad sack up and half-heaving him towards the exit.
"I'll help you get started on packing, so go. And don't come back until you've apologized for leaving her alone."
With that, he swung the doorway shut, bolting it determinedly behind Tim, who stood there dumbfounded in the hall as curious onlookers halted their own parting proceedings to goggle at him, gossiping in a susurrant hush. Shuffling sheepishly, he complied to abide by the directive for now, advancing in the direction of the health center (recalling its location from when he himself had to be carried there following his "fainting spell").
When he arrived at the entrance, he waffled for a long while, inhaling deeply before finally rotating the handle. The clinical smell that greeted him made his stomach sick at first, but he shoved revulsion down and quietly asked the receptionist on staff as to the whereabouts of the patient he was seeking. She smiled and pointed him towards a curtain in the rear. Upon lifting it back, he encountered Stephanie propped up on a cot, dome swathed in bandages in a manner that rather resembled his own injured image shortly after they first "met". She relieved visibly upon recognizing the visitor.
"Tim! Thank God you're here. I was beginning to get bored out of my friggin' mind. Can you believe they're making me stay in a bed while they run some tests? It's just a tiny cut, c'mon. Plus it's the last day of school before winter vacation. We should be out celebrating right now."
She bounced restlessly on the bedding, as Tim absorbed the ruby dye soaking through her dressing. He clenched his fist in crushing shame and repentance.
"I think… maybe we should stop seeing each other."
She stiffened sharply, fixing him with a flabbergasted gape.
"…What? Just now, that was… a joke, right? You're not serious?"
He regarded her with a grave grimace. Confusion and dejection distressed her chest at such curt rejection.
"Tim Drake, are you actually breaking up with me?"
"Yes. Let's break up."
There was zero emotion in his tenor, as her own lips quivered, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
"But… But why?"
Tim exhaled as he spouted was probably the most cliché line in the history of bad breakups, but he didn't really care about circumventing social pitfalls right now.
"It's not you, it's me. I mean it. Nothing… good can come of being with me. I'll only end up dragging you down."
"Tim, don't say that…"
"You got hurt because of me. Besides, I… can't do anything to make you happy. Believe me, you'd be a whole lot better off without me in your life."
"Tim…"
She tried to extend towards his hand, but he backed away.
"I'm sorry."
He turned and fled before she could react, leaving her bewildered and brokenhearted beyond belief. His own breast ached as it felt like something within him had shattered – shred into pieces once again. Whatever light had been reignited was now eclipsed, extinguished by his own hand. He should have known better, never tried to chase it in the first place. Having been burned once before, only an utter fool would run right back into the flames.
…This is for the best.
For both of them.
…
It didn't take long for Tim to realize he couldn't well return to the residence hall without invoking his roommate's wrath, so he was stuck outside for the time being. Wandering back to the quad, he massaged his mitts together and blew out a puff of condensation, briefly wishing he still had some actual smokes on him right now.
Parking himself beneath the shadow of a barren tree, he idly surveyed the scene of classmates bidding goodbye before heading home for the holidays. Some were being picked up by their parents, and his intestines constricted a tad more as the swarm of "normies" joyfully received their relatives whom they hadn't seen in so long with hugs and ecstatic chatter. He felt filthy – a black and ugly beetle, insignificant insect – petty and out of place compared to these bright, carefree families. So Hallmark picture-perfect against a pristine postcard background, shining silver and gold.
Acquiring a fallen branch, he started to scratch absently at the slush, doodling a nostalgic depiction in the dirt. Gradually, the symbol of a bat took shape – and beside it, a crude carving of two beings in capes – one big, one small. He stared sullenly at the sketch for a minute, before striking the stick simultaneously through both stick figures' axes in an "X".
"Tim?"
He jumped, and hurriedly scraped over the rest of the illustration with his heel as he whirled around to face his… well, he supposed "ex" would indeed be the proper term to describe her now.
"Steph? What are you doing here?"
"I managed to convince them to let me go. Wanted to catch you before you left at least."
She fumbled with a parcel in her hands.
"I know it's kinda early, but… I wanted to give you your Christmas present. Didn't want it to just go to waste, after I worked so hard on it and all."
She fished inside the bag, and retrieved a folded red scarf. It looked a little lumpy and misshapen, clearly clumsily homemade rather than a commercial product.
"Mom's been teaching me how to knit. It's my first time making one, so it's not very good, but I hope you'll still wear it, and… think of me sometimes. I guess now you could consider it something to remember me by?"
Tim remained reticent as she unraveled the muffler and draped it around his nape, tucking it tenderly so it was snug. She reviewed her handiwork, nodding in admiring approval.
"As I thought. You look good in red."
Tim tugged the textile, fingering each fiber that was filled with such fondness – feeling his own thawing heartstrings being tugged at – torn.
"Why… would you go to all this trouble – for someone like me?"
She smiled.
"Isn't it obvious? It's because I love you."
…
"Eh?"
It took a bit for the statement to sink in, and the cloth's color seemed to creep up his mug as the significance of the confession belatedly registered. She took his trembling skin in hers, keeping it cozy as his now cherished neck was.
"Plus I wanted to pay you back for letting me borrow your jacket," she half-kidded, concealing her own blush behind blithe humor.
He shook his head.
"This is… too good for me. You're too good for me. You shouldn't have wasted your time…"
"Tim, how many times do I have to tell you?" She squeezed his palm, praying he'd actually listen to – believe her for once. Believe in himself. "You're so much better than you think you are. You're kind, sweet, and caring – you're not like any other guy I've dated before. I like you for you, no matter what you or anyone else says. If other people can't see that, then to hell with all of them."
He held her resolve for a long interval, before shyly expressing regret over his actions.
"Steph, I-"
She put a pointer to his lips before he could progress.
"Sh. You're forgiven. Now let us never speak of splitting up over something minor like this again."
Softening, she added:
"As for what I said before, you don't need to answer me back right away. We don't have to rush into anything if you're not ready for it yet. I'm happy so long as you're happy. As long as we're together, that's good enough for me."
She boosted onto her boots' toes to provide him an affectionate side-peck, sniggering as his cherry virtue exposed further at the gesture. Yup, red really was his hue, it seemed. …It suited him (more than he'd ever care – dare – to admit).
She started to separate, but he grasped back, bowing profoundly towards her as if to an angel.
"What… did I ever do to deserve you?"
He beseeched sincerely for a sign – that it was really okay for him to accept this much adoration from someone.
"Who knows," she teased with a smug shrug, basking indulgently in flattering worship as she winked. "Maybe it's karma from a past life or something."
Patting his hair like a puppy, she dotingly brushed off some sunken pearl beads from the strands – like a laurel of tinsel to match her own heavenly halo; planting another precious token on top in pardoned blessing – a starry seraph ornament – before bidding him rise. As they strolled back to the quarters together, limbs still linked together in open broadcast of their bond, Steph piped up with another proposal.
"By the way, I wanted to ask you something else: I was wondering… Do you want to come spend Christmas at my place? I already invited Cass to stay overnight on Christmas Eve, and Conner said he'd come too if you would. Can you imagine it, both of them said they don't have any plans this year, and that their folks were out of town. I mean, what's up with that?" She shook her head. "Christmas is supposed to be a time for people to spend together. No one should have to be alone during the holidays."
For the fleetest of seconds, an impression intruded on Tim's conscience; of a solitary man holed up all by himself in a huge, vacant manor atop an isolated hill, hunched by the fireplace with a glass of brandy in hand, longing wistfully at his mother's and father's memorial portrait overlooking the mantle. He urged it aside though, and smiled appreciatively at the offer.
"I'd love to." A nagging notion occurred however, as he agonized over accommodations on her behalf. "…Can your house really fit that many people though?"
She put on a persevering aura, pumping her fist.
"We'll make it work somehow. Worst comes to worst, we'll just have to share some beds."
He arrested in alarm at what she just said, as the implications dawned on both of them. Steph swiftly endeavored to clarify, flailing and failing miserably.
"Uh, I mean, Cass and I can share a bed, of course! I wasn't insinuating anything else by it…"
The tables had reversed now as Tim snorted at her chagrin, and she grinned as well, goading his arm. Clinging around it, she nuzzled up intimately against his shoulder, both marveling at the broad sky as it started to shed sparkling glitter again. Safely cocooned by both her company and the gift she had granted him, there was no space left for someone else to come between; waking, walking nightmare to worm its way into his warmed spirit.
…And, for the first time in a long time, what he feels isn't fear anymore – at allowing a new stranger into his narrowly confined world once again. Chip through frigid barriers and sculpture's solid shell in order to stir up the dormant globe – revive its stalled clock, frozen in stasis for so long. Finally melting an age of presumed permafrost; nudging, encouraging cold feet to steadily begin moving forward again.
…
It's hope.
Well keep it in mind I'm not as stable or able
To use all my guts and turn over the tables
Or open the door and stare the monster between the eyes
But the times have turned and burned a hole in this heart
Confronted the face of what tore my life apart
And I'll start by living every moment like it was my last
Anyone who knows what the red scarf is in reference to gets a cookie~
P.S. RIP Kevin Conroy.