They swing over and around the streets of Gotham, and they are mostly quiet as they go about their patrol route. This is normal for Cass. She is often quiet. She is comfortable that way. This is also normal for Tim, somewhat. He is more scared when he is being loud, like there is pain on the way, so maybe he feels more comfortable when quiet, but he is still scared when he is being quiet, just in a smaller way, but still a painful way. He is always scared.
No more. No more scared, no more pain, no more normal if that means Tim being hurt.
When they reach a certain corner, Cass puts out a hand to one side, palm facing back toward Tim, who is behind her. This means "stop" or "wait" in a way that is not natural body language, but that most people seem to know anyway.
Tim stops. "Here, Black Bat?"
"Close," Cass says. She peers over the edge of the roof in each direction to make sure they are alone from all angles. No one is anywhere near them. "Now, follow."
She slides over the edge of the roof, catching the edge's lip in both hands and twisting midair to fling her body through a broken-open window just below the roofline.
Tim follows her in, looking around as he lands. "Huh. So the urgent, important thing is in an abandoned building?"
"It is now," Cass agrees, looking right at Tim.
Tim's face furrows with confusion, clear even with his mask on.
"Careful with comms," Cass says, removing her own comms and holding them out in one flat, open hand.
Tim frowns, but he taps at his ears and pulls out his comms.
Cass keeps holding out her open hand.
Tim drops his comms into her hand.
Cass pockets the comms, then she points across the room.
Tim turns to look at the corner Cass is pointing to, at the crooked piles of blankets and trash and other things. "That's… That looks like somebody's been squatting here. Are you sure we shouldn't have our comms?"
Cass runs the word "squatting" through her mind carefully, then does it again. That doesn't help. "Squatting?"
"Looks like somebody who doesn't have a home has been using this as an improvised home," Tim rephrases, and that makes more sense.
Cass nods. "Yes. But not somebody."
"Something?" Tim tries, warily stepping closer to the pile of old blankets.
"No," Cass says firmly. "Not a thing. Not just somebody. Me."
Tim turns back to her, one hand picking up the top blanket and fiddling with it. "Oh. Oh! This is where you were living before living with Batman?"
"Much of the time," Cass says. She hesitates, trying to find the right words, or at least to find good enough words. "Before, it was bad. Very bad. I was scared. I did run away. I did not run to. I did not know where to go. I watch people, I learn, I… I hope. I run, I hope, I run. Then I find Batman."
"Yeah," Tim says. "And I'm really glad you found Batman."
Cass takes a deep breath. "Are you glad?"
Tim looks at her like she does not know what she is asking. "Of course I'm glad!"
"For me to be with Batman?" Cass asks.
"Really glad," Tim says immediately, and his body says gladness as he clutches the blanket in his hands.
Cass pushes ahead. "For you to be with Batman?"
"Really glad," Tim says just as immediately, and his body says gladness again, but his body says other things now too. It screams with fear and regret and no hope.
"You like Batman?" Cass asks.
"Of course I do!" Tim says. It is almost a protest, in a way offended.
"Batman likes you?" Cass asks.
"I mean, I like to think so," Tim says jokingly. It is not a joke. He wants it to be true, but he doesn't think it's true.
Cass sighs. "Robin…"
"Listen, I don't know what you're getting at here, but if you have something important or urgent to say, you can just say it, you know," Tim says, again a bit offended, but more fearful, more hesitant, more ready to be hurt.
Cass says it fully. "Batman hurts you."
Tim drops the blanket he's been clutching. "What? No, he doesn't!"
He thinks it is true. That much is clear in the hard curve of his shoulders. Could it be true? But then why would he be so scared?
"Batman hurts you," Cass insists.
"No," Tim insists back. "He doesn't."
"Then why are you scared of him?" Cass asks.
"I'm not scared," Tim says, and this time, he doesn't think it's true.
"Robin," Cass says. "It's not okay."
"It's perfectly okay," Tim says, but his voice shakes, and his fingers twitch, and he stands just slightly tilted, like his stomach is clenching.
"It's not okay," Cass says again. "And if you don't see that…"
Then she will have to make him see that.
Cass turns away from him, like she is going to leave.
"Wait," Tim starts.
Whirling around just as Tim starts to step forward, Cass rushes Tim.
Tim takes a startled steady stance, but his front foot slides on the blanket he'd dropped and he does a half-stumble.
Cass reaches him before he can steady himself again. She doesn't slam into him. She doesn't want to hurt him. Instead, she twists into him, taking the both of them down into the pile of blankets, Cass on top.
Tim flails beneath her, sending blankets every which way. He's not trying to get away, which is confusing for a moment, then she realizes it. He's drawing her attention with one hand batting toward her face, reaching for her pocket with the other hand, going for the pocketed comms.
Snatching up the hand going for her pocket, Cass flips them sideways so she's not on top and Tim's not on bottom, but they're side by side. Tim's one hand is in one of hers, and she grabs his other wrist when he fakes a jab toward her throat but doesn't seem to remember she can tell when he's faking and so she knows where his hand is really going to be.
Cass gathers up both of Tim's wrists in one hand and sits up, keeping Tim down.
Tim bucks beside her, desperate.
Cass is just as desperate, but she tries to keep calm. If Tim tells Batman Cass thinks Batman is hurting Tim… It will not end well for either Tim or Cass. Reaching into another pocket, Cass draws out two pairs of handcuffs and several other ties.
Tim takes a trembling breath and says in a rush. "I don't-"
Cass shushes him as she clicks the first pair of handcuffs into place around his wrists.
"Please," Tim begs. Every line of his body screams scared, scared, scared!
And yet. There's another emotion there too. Something between resignation and acceptance and something like hatred, but somehow not toward Cass. Maybe toward Batman? Cass has to think so.
Cass clicks the second pair of handcuffs around Tim's ankles.
"Please," Tim says again, barely a whisper.
Cass places the other ties, so that Tim can move enough to wiggle into a comfortable position but nothing else.
Tim swallows audibly and says nothing else.
Carefully, Cass maneuvers Tim so he's sitting on the scattered remains of the pile of blankets, leaning back against the wall. She covers him from just below the chin to his toes with a couple of the other blankets that became tossed aside during their confrontation.
Tim sighs. It doesn't sound relieved. It sounds like a promise of pain for himself.
Regret surges through Cass, but she forces the regret back. This will make things better. This will fix things. This will help Tim, even if it doesn't feel like it to him yet.
"I will help you," Cass says firmly. And that's a promise too, not a promise of pain, but a promise of healing.
AN: Fun fact: as mentioned in other fics in this series, Tim's favorite drink is white grape juice. Perhaps not so fun fact: I think white grape juice tastes kind of like blood, which is the reason why I made it Tim's favorite drink. :D