Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tim could recall that night in the cavern quite clearly.

The way Ra’s and Slade used him and abused him in front of Dick to make him cave. How they manipulated his older brother by torturing him and nearly raping him in front of Dick so that he would give himself up to Slade.

He remembered the utter sick feeling he felt when he saw Dick’s terrified face, how his voice cracked and strained with desperation and fear.

How could he ever forgive himself for that? For putting his brother through such pain and torture?

So when Jason, Damian and Steph told him that he would be seeing Dick as soon as they landed the plane, Tim was scared. He didn’t know what to expect.

Dick, bloodied and bruised. Dick, broken and used. Dick, eyes dead and his smile gone.

Because of him.

He was terrified. He didn’t think he would ever see his family or Dick again after Ra’s dragged him away, and he had been longing ever since then. The days and days and days of Ra’s pushing him and torturing him into doing his bidding. Terrifying nights where he cried and licked his wounds on the hard cell floor or on top of the overly soft and suffocating bed.

One of the only things that would console him were the promises Dick told him about being rescued and reuniting again.

And he had held onto those words and ingrained them into his memory, etching the hope in rock… but now when he was finally rescued and about to see Dick again… he didn’t want to?

How much more ungrateful could he be?

“Tim?”

He turned to Jason calling out his name from the front of the plane.

“You okay?”

Tim didn’t answer immediately. The past year had conditioned him to pinpoint all possible scenarios his answers to Ra’s questions might bring, in order to survive. Even now, he was considering the different ways to formulate sentences, what would sway Jason’s perception of him, from broken, to resilient, to traumatized but fine. Distantly, he knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t have to do that. But that’s what he did to survive.

“I’m okay,” he said, choosing an option somewhere between broken and fine. “When— when will we arrive?”

“In about three hours.” The man walked over and sat beside him, careful to keep his movements slow so as not to startle him. It had happened far too many times in the past four hours or so, his fight/flight reflex seemingly jammed on. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? What’s on your mind?”

Tim swallowed. For the first time since Jason, Damian and Steph burst into his cell and dragged him out Ra’s’s base, he considered letting his guard down.

He could… just tell Jason what was bothering him. From his memory (which felt like eons ago, a whole other lifetime), he and Jason had been on good terms. They teamed up frequently and exchanged banter, including inside jokes, which Tim didn’t really remember anymore.

But he hadn’t noticed you were kidnapped, the voice in his head that sounded like Ra’s most imperious tone said. And it was because no one noticed, no one cared that you and Dick came into this situation. If someone had noticed, Slade wouldn’t have lured Dick in and trapped you both.

Tim shuddered at the voice’s words. The voice had established itself as a resident in his head two months into his “apprenticeship” under Ra’s. It hadn’t sounded like Ra’s at first, but as time went on and Ra’s employed more and more of his brainwashing tactics on him, the voice slowly became a concrete form in his mind. Now, it barely left him alone.

“Tim?”

Tim froze, not knowing what to do. He couldn’t go against Ra’s. What if— what if he found out and whipped him again? Or worse—invited him to a “night” in his bed?

No, no, no, it was better if he complied, if he obeyed, if he made him happy. Then he wouldn’t feel the pain anymore, wouldn’t feel like tearing off his own skin. He should shut up, he should protect the Demon Head’s honor as a good heir.

He was a good heir, he was, he was. He was a good heir, he didn’t need to be punished, please, please please please please—

“—Tim!” The shout broke through the clashing, catastrophizing symbols in his head. “Tim, snap out of it, it’s okay! You’re safe!”

Loud, loud, loud, loud, it was too loud, it was too loud, he was sorry, please don’t shout, please, please—

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim clutched the weighted blanket around his shoulders, eyes darting from Jason, to Steph, to Damian.

It was involuntary, he didn’t mean to keep looking at them. He could tell that it was freaking them out despite their efforts to hide it. But he just— what if he took his eyes off them and they hurt him?

That’s nonsense, a different voice in his head snapped. This one was the one he had dubbed as the ‘rebellious voice’. It was what kept him sane throughout the year. Steph and Jason and Damian won’t hurt you. They haven’t in ages! And they aren’t hurting you now.

He knew it was true. Logically, he did. But he couldn’t help the feeling inside his chest that asked, But what if they do? They used to.

Steph brought her arm up and Tim flinched, pressing himself against the back of the seat. But she only sneezed and put her arm back down again, eyes sad as she looked at him with hurt and pity.

Tim squirmed under the blanket, fingers scratching the stitched hem of the cloth frantically.

He knew that even if they did attack him, he would be able to defend himself and take them out with no problem at all. Thanks to Ra’s’s perfectionist, grilling training and his own efforts at surviving them, he was ten times a better fighter than he was before.

But the issue was that these were supposed to be his safe people. He didn’t think he’d be able to land a punch on them even if he tried. But that didn’t mean that he felt completely safe with them either.

Really, at this point, the only person he could clearly see himself being comfortable with were Dick and Bruce.

Everyone else hadn’t talked to him or checked in with him for days before he was kidnapped, and he couldn’t justify them caring about him with Ra’s’s ruthless attempts of brainwashing rubbing against his brain. Dick was the exception because he had met his brother and gotten firm words of reassurance and hope from him that he kept tucked in his head and heart. And Bruce because he was the only one who had been checking in with him at least once a week. And with everything he and Bruce had gone through as Batman and Robin… it was too strong for Ra’s to break down with his poisonous words and literal poisonous whips.

A soft dinging sounded from the cockpit of the plane and all four passengers looked its way.

“Call incoming,” Damian declared. “I’ll get it.” He stood up and went to fetch the call.

When he was out of sight, Tim snapped his attention back to the other two, unable to help insistently watching them with wariness. He scratched at the threads in the hem of the blanket again.

Only a few seconds passed when Damian reentered the passenger’s area. “It’s Father,” he said, looking at Tim. “He wants to talk to you.”

Tim’s eyes widened. Bruce, it was Bruce.

Shakily he got up, aware of how Jason and Steph sat on the edge of their seats, waiting to catch him if he fell.

He might be shaky, but Ra’s didn’t disable him. Just tortured him enough to hurt him. The shakiness and instability was more out of the fresh rush of anxiety at the potential of seeing Bruce’s face after so long…

Tim made his way to the cockpit, pressing himself to the background to avoid touching or bumping with Damian. Noticing it, Damian moved out of his way, standing a safe distance away.

Tim shuffled into the cockpit, blanket still around his shoulders and trailing behind him. As soon as he entered, he spotted the screen in the middle of the control panel, with Bruce’s face—cowl off, eyes tired, a few bruises and a small burn on his jaw. But it was undoubtedly Bruce’s face. His dad’s face.

Tim stared at Bruce’s face and Bruce’s face stared at him back.

“Tim,” Bruce’s face spoke, voice crackling and not because of the signal (this was Wayne Tech, everything here was in prime and peak condition). “Oh my God, Tim.”

Tim inched closer to the screen. “Bruce,” he whispered, eyes skittering around the screen, around his father’s face.

“Tim— Oh, Tim. Son. My son.” Bruce’s face was crying. There were tears on Bruce’s face and it was squinched in an ugly, sad expression. “Oh God, my son. What did he do to you, Tim? Tim…” Bruce sobbed.

Tears welled up in his eyes and Tim reached out to press his fingertips against the screen. “Bruce,” he said, louder this time. “Bruce.”

“Tim,” Bruce sobbed, his own fingertips showing through the screen. “Hey, hey kiddo. How are you?”

“I’m okay,” he said shakily. The tears fell and trailed down his cheeks all the way to his chin at hearing his dad’s voice again.

“You don’t look okay, chum.”

Tim laughed thinly, rubbing the tears off his cheeks. He supposed he didn’t, considering how his face was currently more bruised up than Bruce’s, and how his back and limbs were cut up, red and raw.

“I just wanted to see you, Tim. I couldn’t wait. We got Dick, he’s— he’s sleeping right now. But we’ll land at the same time and— and we’ll finally see each other again. Whole. Okay?”

Tim nodded with a smile, sniffling and having given up on the tears now. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, son. I love you.”

Tim nodded again and the screen went blank.

“We’ll land in about two more hours,” he heard Jason say from behind him. “Do you want to sleep till then too?”

Tim shook his head no, going back to fiddling with the hem of the blanket with his fingernails. No, he didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to stay awake, and turn over the image of Bruce smiling at him, in his head, until the world went a little bit quieter.

“Okay. Try to rest please, Timbit.”

A smile twitched the corner of his lips at the old nickname. He nodded.

-------------------------------------------

Tim did not manage to sleep or rest the entire two and a half hours. He was on edge, eyes darting and looking for danger in every corner.

When the plane touched down on Manor grounds and Tim saw the familiar, familiar, oh-so-sweet familiar flowers and trimmed bushes, he felt a small nugget of relief in his stomach. And the reality that he really was safe and far away from Ra’s and the League settled down a tiny bit more into his adrenaline-driven psyche.

The doors opened and Jason and Damian ran out immediately.

They had explained that Alfred and Leslie were there and ready to care for them and tend to their injuries. They had agreed that Jason and Damian would help Bruce, Cass, Duke and Dick who were far more injured than they were. They let him know that they would need to leave first, but that they would come back and take him to get him further treated and see everyone once everything was ready.

So Tim sat as he watched his two brothers run out, dread crawling up his spine at the prospect of seeing the others, especially facing Dick again.

“Hey,” Steph said as she came to sit on the seat next to him (still keeping a distance). “We’re here, huh?”

Tim could hear the smile in her voice even without looking. He remembered how easy it had been for him to read her. And how easily they had drifted apart too.

(Will Dick and I drift apart again?)

“You excited to meet everyone?”

He gave a nonverbal hum of agreement.

“You know, after Bruce, Cass took your and Dick’s disappearance the hardest. Something about how she was too late this time.”

She was. If he had been the one to reach out first like he did that time in Paris, then maybe she could have saved him and Dick this time too.

“I know Babs is looking forward to seeing you too.”

He and Babs had only really talked a few times through comms, and stuck to business only. They used to have a much more friendly, brother-sister dynamic… he didn’t know what changed.

“I’m sure Bruce is dying to see you in person.”

He was looking forward to seeing him too. …If he wasn’t disappointed first.

“Oh and Dick.”

Tim felt his shoulders tense.

“I’m so excited to see Dick again.”

Tim swallowed, tightening his grip on the blanket. I wish I could say the same.

Steph smiled at him. “And I’m positive Dick’s itching to see you.”

Tim didn’t know if he completely agreed with that sentiment anymore.

Who knew what had happened to Dick this past year? He had been captured because of him and forced into an inhumane contract because of him. He could have been grievously injured and it was all because he wanted to be an angsty little shit and abandon regular check-ins during patrol.

Sure Slade wouldn’t want his apprentice to be cripplingly injured and the others had said that Dick was okay for the most part, but lately, he had a hard time taking someone’s word for things. Ra’s never lied, but he always exaggerated or twisted or did something that wound up with Tim either getting hurt or doing something against his will.

And so, he sat on the Batplane’s seat, nervously fiddling the hell out of the blanket and trying his best to slow his rapid heartbeat down. Steph gave him company, rambling about something or the other, never letting silence take over and give space for his thoughts to consume him.

A short while later, Jason entered the plane again.

“Hey Timbers,” he smiled at him. “I’m here to help you to the Cave. Dickie’s all ready and set. Sorry it took a while, we ran into a complication trying the best method to get him awake without alarming him.”

At the mention of Dick’s name, nervous twines twisted themselves around his stomach, piercing it with their thorns. He felt sick.

“He’s outside now, waiting for you. Do you want to see him?”

Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes, he did. No, he didn’t.

Tim stood up. He had to leave this aircraft one way or another. Might as well get over with it now, rather than wait for catastrophic thinking, fear, and a million other things to take over.

He shuffled a few steps forward when the world lurched and he found himself on his way to meeting the ground very quickly.

Fortunately, arms caught him before he could injure himself anymore with the fall.

Tim held on to Jason’s arms tightly as the man gathered him in them, scooping him up and holding him close.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Jason whispered to him soothingly. “It’s alright. I got you.”

Tim wrapped his arms around neck, burying his face in his shoulder. He felt his body trembling all over.

“It’s okay, I can carry him out,” he heard Jason say to Steph. “You just head out and make sure everyone knows to keep their distance and not crowd him or freak him out first thing. That okay, Tim?” he directed the last bit at him.

Tim nodded mutely.

“Okay.” He heard Steph rush out.

“Let me know when you want us to go out, Timmers. Just a nod will do.”

He felt like crying again. He hadn’t cried much, not the full bawling type anyway. He had come close, but the mental block that kept him protected from Ra’s by keeping his tears in wouldn’t let him.

A flood of fear grasped his chest and he whimpered at how tight it was.

It all really boiled down to one thing: Was Dick mad with him? Did his older brother hate him?

He went through a breathing exercise, his breath coming choppily. He breathed through and felt Jason doing the same to help him. Jason was strong, and he suspected that he was lighter than before thanks to Ra’s’s torture methods. He could feel how willing Jason was to keep carrying him until Tim himself asked to be dropped.

…It was selfish but Tim didn’t think he wanted to be on his own feet right now.

Sooner or later, he had to leave this plane.

And so, despite not being ready at all, he nodded.

Jason didn’t say anything, just moved without unnecessary bravado.

He was going to see him now. See his big brother.

“I agree to be your apprentice only if you don’t harm my brother and keep him alive.”

“I need to hug my brother one more time, Slade, please.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, pushed you away, didn’t look after you even when Bruce came back.”

He didn’t know in what condition he was going to find Dick in.

“From the start, if I had just believed you—you, my amazing, smart, clever little brother—then maybe none of this would have happened.”

He didn’t know what feelings Dick felt toward him.

“I love you.”
“I love you too, baby bird.”

He didn’t know if the promise Dick made still applied after everything that happened.

“We’ll see each other again. We’ll see each other again, one way or another.”

Regardless, Tim was here now. And when he felt the outside wind hit his face, he turned his head and saw Dick.

Dick. Standing whole, safe and smiling.

And as soon as his gaze landed on Dick—a whole and alive Dick—he forgot everything.

All his worries, all his fears, all his insecurities and guilt.

The only thing on his mind, the only thing he could focus on, was the sight of his older brother alive and holding his arms out in front of him for him.

Tim rolled off Jason’s arms and darted towards Dick’s.

Ignoring all his injuries and pain, he ran with a single word on his lips, “DICK!”

With the force of all the desperation that had built up the past year behind him, he collided with Dick, throwing them both to the floor, wrapping his arms around him and latching on to his older brother.

“Tim,” he heard Dick sob, wrapping his arms around him equally as tight. “Oh, Tim. You’re alive, you’re alive, my baby bird, you’re alive.”

“Dick,” Tim sobbed, clutching him and probably bruising him with how hard his hold was.

“It’s okay,” Dick said, gently running his knuckles up and down his spine. “It’s okay. We’re here. It’s alright. We’re alright.”

“We’re alright,” Tim repeated, his chest aching with how hard he was crying.

We’re alright.

After months of torture and pain, they were finally together. And they were finally alright.

------------------------------------------

The next two days was just bedrest.

He was all bandaged up, given painkillers and provided with proper nourishment along with Dick. The two remained side by side, on two beds pushed together. The others realized quickly that something had gone between the two that led them to trauma-bond, so they let them be.

Besides, Tim was craving hugs and Dick’s arms were the only ones he could tolerate without analyzing the person standing in front of him and determining whether their touch would be safe or not. Dick didn’t admit it, but it was the same for him too. He could see it.

(Tim pushed away the implications of what that meant, he wasn’t going to think about that right now, not when they were finally safe.)

The first two days passed in just sleeping and recovering. Their family came in and out, checking in or just sitting with them. Though Tim panicked every time he saw a silhouette in the doorway, he was slowly getting used to it and was more than appreciative of the familiar company. It also desensitized him from his fear.

However, on the third day, Tim woke up to just him and Dick alone in the room.

It was nighttime, the window was open with the crescent moon out. A gentle breeze swifted in to say hello, riffling the curtains a little. Dick’s head was on his hip as the man played Piano Tiles on his phone.

The music was soft, at a low volume, and Tim listened to it for a bit, revelling in the feeling of comfort and safety that had become so strange to him in the past year.

A couple minutes later, when Dick pressed the wrong tile and lost the game, he sighed and tilted his head in Tim’s direction. “You awake?”

Tim nodded.

“This is okay, right? I’m not hurting you?”

Tim shook his head. “Not injured there.”

“Good, good.” He put his phone down and stared up at the ceiling with glow in the dark stars. They were in Tim’s room, since Dick’s room in the Manor was basically an occasional guest room with the only guest being Dick when he visited. Tim’s was more lived-in, and therefore had less dust and more home-y vibes that helped with recovery. Or so Steph proclaimed.

“Never thought I would be back here,” Dick whispered. “Logically, I knew Bruce wouldn’t give up until he found us but… with the way Slade talked and left no loose ends…”

“I thought it was impossible too,” Tim admitted. “I stopped thinking of being rescued about six months in. Ra’s… kept me busy.”

Dick looked at him again. “What did he do?”

Tim resisted the urge to squirm. He wasn’t ready to talk about it, especially with Dick. “Does it matter? We’re here now.”

Dick stared at him for a few moments longer but caved in and let himself smile. “Yeah. We are.” He got up and moved to lie down beside Tim, curling an arm around his torso and pulling him in.

Tim nestled into Dick’s shoulder, curling his own arm around him and feeling a rush of warmth run down his spine. “I remember what you said,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. When… when things got too much, I just thought of that. That memory. Of train-surfing and cheesecake fajitas.”

Dick smiled. “I remember it too.”

“Yeah. And it helped.”

“It did?”

“It helped me stay sane, stay me.”

Dick hummed, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his back. “So if we were to actually relive it, it would help you feel even more you?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Are you really suggesting what I’m thinking you’re suggesting?”

Dick grinned. “Technically, we wouldn’t be doing anything wrong!”

“Yeah, directly ignoring Bruce’s orders of staying in bed isn’t anything wrong.”

“Urm.” Dick raised a finger. “Technically, we wouldn’t be disobeying orders if we came back before he found out.”

Tim let out a snort. He looked up, eyes shining. “Okay,” he grinned. “Let’s go.”

It was honestly a miracle that no one woke up and discovered them with how loudly they were stifling giggles and tip-toeing through the manor.

They snatched the Batmobile, barely cooled down from Patrol, and revved it up. They screeched out the Cave, Dick driving after a mini-fight between him and Tim for the wheel which Dick won, and were soon zooming through the streets, laughing like maniacs.

They were in their pajamas still, but had stolen two of Bruce’s spare capes and grabbed domino masks before leaving, just in case something happened so they could protect their identity.

And also so they could stop by the drive-thru of the shop that sold the cheesecake fajitas and ordered some while in the Batmobile. The looks on the faces of the workers, at the bizarre sight of two pajama, mask and cape clad, scarred young men, sitting in the Batmobile, were priceless, leaving the two formerly captured Robins to hoot and snort with laughter long after they left with the food.

Grabbing the bag, they stopped by the bridge that hung over the Gotham railway tracks.

“Fajitas first or trains?” Tim asked.

“Mmm, I wanna go for trains first. Build up an appetite.”

Without waiting for any further comment Tim jumped just as a train passed underway, leaving behind a cheshire grin.

He rolled into his landing perfectly, never losing balance. He grinned as he stood, the high speed winds tearing through his hair and trying their best to push him off unsuccessfully.

Dick looked over at him from the other side of the train.

“I bet I can do more flips than you!” the man yelled through cupped hands.

“Wanna bet on that, gramps?” Tim called back.

“Gramps?” Dick shrieked. “I’m in my twenties.”

Tim blew a raspberry and flipped onto the adjacent train speeding by.

They hopped from train to train and when Dick had finished demonstrating a triple axel on the train’s roof, Tim ran at him and slammed his hand against his back and yelled, “TAG, YOU’RE IT!” before running for his life.

Dick charged at him from behind and Tim let out a burst of screeching laughter as his heart thudded with adrenaline as he ran.

It was the first time Tim felt his heart speeding up with something other than fear, and he felt euphoric. He could tell Dick was too with the hoot of mirth he let out into the night as he jumped onto another train in pursuit of Tim.

They ran and jumped and flipped and borderline punched each other to tag them for a good couple hours.

It ended when his foot slipped and Tim nearly fell off the track into the cliffside.

Fortunately, Dick was close by and caught the back of his shirt, pulling him up and pressing him to his chest as he settled them both to their knees for more balance.

“Tim!” Dick gasped breathlessly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Tim said, panting heavily.

“God.” Dick hugged him tightly. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Tim hugged Dick back to reassure him.

Dick cupped the back of his head. “I think that’s enough train-surfing for now.”

Tim pouted but he knew Dick was right. His ankle was also starting to hurt again.

They caught the train back to the bridge where the Batmobile was parked and picked up the bag of fajitas before finding a rooftop to settle on.

They sat atop one that overlooked the train bridge, railway and a bit of the cliffside too, legs dangling in the air as they reached into the bag simultaneously and pulled out a fajita each.

Tim let out a sigh of pleasure when he took the first bite. “Man, I missed this.”

Dick agreed with a passionate mmmm. “Blüd’s is better though.”

“Oh, undoubtedly. Though I don’t see Bruce or any of the others being all too happy that we went missing again over a couple of fajitas.”

“Legendary fajitas,” Dick corrected, another one in hand. “But point.”

They finished the bag and just sat on the roof, looking at the thin lines of dawn that started to appear from the horizon.

The air wasn’t cold, but chilly enough that Tim pressed himself to Dick’s side. Dick put an arm around him, squeezing his arm once as his eyes stayed on the horizon.

He really did not think he would experience this again. The fajitas, the wind in his hair, Dick’s arms around him… It seemed like a fantasy. A fantasy he stoutly believed in to keep his sanity, but still a fantasy. It felt unreal now that he was living it, but in a good way.

“He kept me chained by my ankle,” the words left Tim’s mouth without him even thinking. “At every possible free moment, I could tell he liked it on me.”

Dick’s hold on him tightened though he stayed silent.

“Leslie says that it will probably take weeks to heal properly.”

Dick didn’t answer to that, just kept his gaze on the slowly rising sun.

Tim looked at it too, leaning against his brother’s side.

A moment later, he quietly spoke up, “I wasn’t chained, because he would make sure I was too tired to even move before letting me sleep.”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden flash of Dick collapsed and paralyzed in front of Slade’s feet. He shook his head to clear away the horrific picture.

“Whenever I was thrown into the cell if I didn’t cooperate that day, I did exactly as you said and brought up that memory.” He rested a hand on Dick’s lap, grounding himself and Dick with the touch. “I could feel the wind despite the closed-off cell, could feel the taste of the cheesecake on my tongue despite my parched throat, could feel your arms around me despite the chains. And now…” He looked up at him. “Now I’m here. Actually living it rather than just imagining it in my head.”

“I’m glad you’re here too.” Dick smiled and squeezed him tightly. “Whenever I collapsed right there on the training floor after one of Slade’s spars, I called up the memories of us, you know, and how we would just rough each other up lightly in our friendly spars. I would pretend that you were right there beside me, both of us laughing and out of breath.”

“We’re here now.”

Dick sighed softly. “Indeed we are.”

“We’re not laughing right now though.”

Dick turned to him with a smirk. “I can fix that.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean— No. Dick, don’t you dare—”

Dick started tickling him, pulling them both backwards so they collapsed on the rooftop rather than the air and tickled him.

Tim shrieked with laughter, trying and failing to get away from Dick’s fucking octopus grip.

In revenge, he kneed Dick in the men’s area. With a groan, the infuriating man stopped, giving the opening Tim needed to tickle him back in return.

Dick was now screaming with laughter. “Stop! Stop!” he begged. “I can’t brea— breathe!”

Tim tickled him for an extra few seconds, out of spite, before he collapsed back onto Dick’s chest, hugging him again.

Dick laughed, slightly breathless, his chest rumbling with it and brought his arms around him again. Tim rested his chin on Dick’s chest, looking at him.

Dick smiled and ruffled his hair. “Love you, baby bird.”

Tim smiled back widely. “Love you too, ‘Wing.”

He sighed and pressed his ear against his chest, listening to the calm heartbeat.

“I missed you. So much.”

Dick ran his fingers through his hair, the gentle touch making Tim melt into the feeling. “Me too. I’m never letting you go, Timmy. I’m sorry I did before, but from now on, we promise to stick together.”

Tim hummed, floating in bliss with the feeling of safety in his brother’s arms. “I promise.”