peektuttut | ➹ 81

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➹ 81 | Voice

Almost a week. Looks like I haven't missed too much. No post-flood apologies, apparent crises, or fresh wounds. Anyone miss me?

[Someone sounds lighthearted for once! It's a ruse. But it's a very good one, so enjoy happyish Tim for a bit, Barge. c:]

[Private to Sylar]

You're still on my Item.

[Private to the Admiral]

I think it's time for a change here. I want my new apartment on Park Row.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Good because Tim is collecting his jar of dirt and a brown paper back and coming to knock knock knock.]

[Dick answers the door a few seconds later, looking a little worn, but more or less fine. He manages a relieved smile for his brother, resisting the urge to just pull him into a hug until his hands are free of presents.] Hey.

[What. That's not normal. Tim holds his arms out, not offering the gifts quite yet.] 'Hey?' That's it? You almost made my cry in front of my door, but we're going to be totally cool here?

[The smile wavered for a second before growing a little wider, even if it still looked a little out of place. Enough to probably fool most people, but not Tim.] Your hands are full.

[Nope. Not Tim. So he dropped his arms and tried to shoulder his way in.] What's wrong?

Nothing. [He stepped out of the way immediately.] Now put the stuff down and let me give you a hug.

Liar. [But down went jar and bag on the nearest flat surface, and he held his arms out for a hug.]

[Which Dick is more than happy to give, hugging him tightly, biting back the swell of emotion and smiling much more naturally, even if Tim couldn't see it. Tim was back, alive and safe, and sounds happier, and that's reason enough to smile.] It's really good to see you, Timmy.

[Tim squeezed back, smiling vaguely over Dick's shoulder.] I said I'd be back. It's like no one believes me. [He paused, then leaned back.] What's been going on?

I didn't not believe you, it's just... good to see you. [He lets him pull back and sort of vaguely shook his head.] Costigan vanished. I thought he was gone, but he came back a few days later and he's... not my inmate anymore.

Crap. [Tim grimaced for his sake, squeezing dick's shoulders.] I'm sorry. [That I wasn't here is the rest of that sentence.] At least he's back. That's better than not knowing.

[He nodded once.] Yeah. [He didn't want to get into it right now. So, instead, he pulled Tim close again for a long moment, before slowly pulling back and asking the question he both looked forward to and dreaded asking.] How was home?

[Tim grunted, and maybe laughed a little as Dick tugged him close, and he wrapped his arms around his brother's torso again. He could wait it out.]

It was...good. Things are getting back to normal. Or a new normal, I guess. [Except for the part where he almost killed Boomerang, but shhh.]

That's good. [He wasn't sure if he wanted to ask more about what that meant, exactly, but Tim seemed happy, and normal was better - much better - than EVERYONE DIED, so he allowed himself to feel a little prickle of hope.] You remembered my jar of dirt.

There might even be some cookies in there. I asked for chocolate chip, but I have the sneaking suspicion that Alfred made oatmeal raisin. [Tim shrugged, smiling.] The dirt's from by the docks, Aparo and Robinson park, and a little I found right outside Wayne Tower.

Hey, if Alfred made them, I'll take it. [The jar of dirt definitely bordered on an incredibly ridiculous thing to ask for, but it was actually kind of nice to think he had an actual piece of Gotham in his room, and he did appreciate Tim actually taking the effort to do it.] Thanks, kiddo.

[Tim turned and picked up the bag, opening it to take a whiff. Ahh, Alfred's baking. He does love it.] If you're lucky, they might still be warm.

Seriously? Man, I really owe you.

What made you think you didn't?

Nothing. I'm just saying if I ever go home, I'd better be bringing you back a pony or something.

I'd settle for my bike.

What would you do with a bike on the Barge?

No idea. But I miss it.

Me too.

Maybe we could off road in the CES.

➹ 81 | Voice

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