Title: Dick/Tim Ficlet 01
Author: Yami no Kaiba
Fandom: DC Comics, YJ era
Rating: PG
Characters: Tim Drake, Dick Grayson

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"Take me home," Tim said, for once bypassing the command chair of the Supercycle to sit in one of the back-padded seats. He watched silently as the Hotel slowly receded from sight as the Cycle went on it's way with a small, sad sound.

Slouching, he brought his knees up, wrapping his arms around them, clutching at the fabric of his uniform as the emotions he'd been struggling to hold back finally leaped forth at the lack of other people around him. His throat seized up and he tried desperately to reach for the knowledge of a relaxing breathing exercise he'd learned in Paris to no avail as his breathing took on the irregular pattern of dry sobs as he rested his forehead against his knees.

He didn't know how long he sat there, huddled in a seat that was distinctly not his (smelled of *him*), choking breathless sobs escaping his tired and shaking frame that had long since cried its tear supply dry in a torture chamber a boom tube away. Nothing but the sound of rushing air and the play of shifting lights as the Cycle moved forward registered to him and even that was faint to the overwhelming feelings of betrayal and uselessness.

"Tim? Tim, what's wrong?"

He was so startled at that voice, at the feeling of weight resting on his shoulder, that he looked up before composing himself. There was the briefest tinge of resentment towards the Supercycle for bringing him *here* instead of home, but the honest concern in Dick's blue eyes washed it away.

And for once, it didn't matter that Dick was in the uniform of his day job, Tim in the Robin suit, and that there was a high chance of them being seen together in the dark alley of Blüdhaven the Cycle had hovered to a stop in. All that mattered to Tim was that this was Dick, and Dick was the kind of person who, even though he couldn't make it right again, could understand and at least make it better.

Sensing the need, Dick pulled the shaking boy to him, rubbing soothing circles under the cape through Tim's armor, tucking Tim's head under his chin and carding through the black silk that was Tim's hair.

Tim clutched to the offered warmth. "It's- it's all screwed up," he choked out between the sobs for air. "He betrayed me and then they messed with my head and now every thing's all jumbled and screwed up-"

"Shhh... It'll be all right. It'll be all right, you'll see."

Tim was pretty sure it wouldn't be, but if Dick believed, then he would, too.

Even if it would take time.

--Fin.