Chapter Text
Tim let the book he was reading fall to the bed next to him. He smiled as the familiar happiness and excitement that his soulmate would sometimes feel bloomed into existence within his chest. He knew that they were doing something that Tim could probably never dream of, the familiar swoop of his stomach that came before the surge of joy that left him grinning like an idiot was always more than welcome. Sometimes he felt their pain. It wasn't always bad. Just a light pain like they ran into the side of a table and got hit in the side. Other times, the pain was worse and almost made Tim think that they'd gotten into some sort of fight. It they were getting into so much trouble, they were probably someone who his parents wouldn't entirely approve of. But it was moments like these when he found his parents' approval to be the last thing on his mind.
He flinched as a sharper pain erupted from his side. His soulmate must be getting into trouble again. But the hits kept coming. Across his chest, his back, his arms, his legs. No area of skin was left untouched. Tim screwed his eyes shut against the pain, trying to block it out, but it only kept getting worse, leaving him writhing in bed. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. He didn't want his parents to know how much pain he was in. They would start to ask questions and that would only heighten the disapproval that they would no doubt hold towards his soulmate.
He choked off a gasp, eyes flying open as everything erupted into blinding white hot pain. It lasted only for a moment, but it felt like his whole body was on fire. As all of his sensations blurred into one he hoped that it was finally over, but then a pain more excruciating than he'd ever felt before happened. He thought his heart was being ripped out of his chest. Squeezed and constricted. He couldn't breathe. Something was wrong. He needed to know that his soulmate was okay, but he didn't know who they were. And the pain...the pain just wouldn't stop...
Tim's eyes flew open and bolted upright in bed, gasping. He looked around frantically, finding some form of comfort in the familiar surroundings that his bedroom in the Manor held. As his breathing slowly calmed, he felt his sweat begin to dry uncomfortably, bringing goosebumps to the top of his skin. He checked the time and knew that he wouldn't be able to make it back to sleep for the hour that he had left before his alarm was set to go off. He never could with the phantom memories of the pain that had been all too real so long ago.
He shoved his blankets to the side and climbed out of bed. He opened his door and listened to the rest of the house. It was as quiet as it always was, but that didn't really mean anything. It would be just as quiet with Bruce in the house and moving around. He sighed and headed towards the stairs as his thoughts no doubt returned to what they always did when he had those dreams.
When he'd first experienced the pain he hadn't known what had happened. He knew something really bad must have happened to his soulmate, but it took several weeks before he knew what exactly that was. Tim had thought that they were still alive out there and that they might have just ended up in the hospital, but when Robin disappeared. When Jason Todd was proclaimed dead. There was no question as to just what had transpired. He never would've suspected the other man of being his soulmate and when he finally had the information, it was met with mixed feelings.
He was ecstatic beyond belief because Jason was his soulmate. His Robin. But his soulmate was dead. And he'd never experience the joy of learning what it was like to get to know him and love him. The parts of him that he didn't know as a result of their connection that was. And then he'd started questioning if Jason had any fond memories of him. Tim sifted through his life, questioning if anything he felt or experienced was enough to get through to Jason. He wondered if Jason had died thinking that he didn't have a soulmate.
Tim's feet brushed over the wood gently, not even making so much as a creak from his time spent mastering the art of silence. Yet, it was never quite enough to fool Bruce. He let his hand trail along the wall as he walked, finding a sense of calm in the way his fingers brushed against the old paint that was there. He was beginning to find his sense of peace again and the acceptance that he almost always had to search for when he had one of his bouts of dreams-turned-nightmares. Thinking back, perhaps that was why the pain was completely unexpected when it did come.
He gasped and feel to his knees harshly, clutching at his chest and twisting his fingers in the fabric of his shirt. He didn't even register the feeling of his knees hitting the hardwood floor beneath him, too consumed in the feeling that something was being forced into him. Something almost unnatural. He wasn't sure if this was worse then when he felt his soulmate die or not. His skin felt too tight and his bones ached in a way that felt like they were nearly being ripped apart inside of him. His stomach clenched and rolled. He briefly wondered if he was on the verge of throwing up, but another wave of pain quickly pushed any coherent thought aside.
"Tim!"
He tried to look up. Tried to figure out who it was that was calling his name, but instead of uncurling his spine, he only succeeded in curling in on himself further. He choked out a gasp, almost thinking the feeling in his spine meant that it had actually shifted. Maybe that it had cracked or forced its way out of his skin. He was almost certain that he was bleeding. He had to be with how much pain he was in. Everything inside of him felt like it was on fire. That it was being consumed in red-hot heat and that there was no hope of extinguishing it.
And then, just as quickly as it had come and raged war on his body and slender frame, it was gone, leaving him in a shaking ball on the floor. He sagged against the wood, letting some of its coolness seep into his cheeks. His cheeks felt damp and he realized that he must've started crying from it all. Tim tried to uncurl from the puddle that he was, but his limbs were still twitchy and stiff. He did manage to look up and find Bruce and Alfred hovering over him worriedly.
"Tim, are you alright?" Bruce asked.
Tim slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, his body feeling heavy and lethargic with every movement that it made. He braced his elbows against where his knees rested on the floor, doing his best to focus on the conversation at hand.
"I feel like I just got ripped apart. I have no idea what could've caused that," he said, rubbing at his cheeks and eyes.
Bruce shared a look with Alfred.
"Why don't I go and make some tea and you can continue this conversation in the kitchen?" Alfred interjected gently.
Tim nodded wearily and he hurried off to the kitchen. Bruce gently gripped his arm and pulled him to his feet. He took a minute to steady himself, feeling slightly dizzy before taking a few experimental steps forward. His strength slowly returned as he made his way into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. Bruce sat across from him, his worry evident in the tight edges around his mouth.
"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked seriously.
"I'm starting to feel better, like my energy is slowly coming back to me. Like, I said, I have no idea-"
"Tim," Bruce said, gently cutting him off. "I know that we never talked about this and I think that might've been an oversight on my part, but you do know about the whole soulmate process, right?"
Tim felt his blood run cold at Bruce's words. He'd never brought up his soulmate because by the time he knew who it was, Jason was already dead and Tim was on his way to becoming Robin. And Bruce didn't need the reminder, didn't need to know that the two of them were so closely linked, as unexpected as that might be. He sat back and nodded, watching Bruce warily.
"I think, that what you felt might've been from your soulmate. I don't know what could've happened to them, but-"
"Bruce," Tim said, gently. "I understand what you're trying to get at, but let me assure you that that's impossible. What I just felt can't be my soulmate. There's just no way."
Bruce's brow furrowed and he took a minute to think as Alfred came in and deposited the cups of tea for both of them.
"You're certain?" he asked.
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
Tim shook his head. "Just trust me on this, okay? I know that it can't possibly be my soulmate. I've long since given up on any possibility that I'd ever feel something from them again. There must be some other explanation to this."
"We can have Alfred give you a preliminary exam and if that doesn't produce any results, we'll send you to a doctor. I don't want to overlook any possibility that this might be some serious illness."
Tim nodded and held his cup tightly in his hands, enjoying the warmth that he pulled from it.
"What were you doing up anyway?"
"Couldn't sleep."
Tim stared at the deep amber liquid in his cup, wondering if he'd ever be able to openly talk about his soulmate. Bruce wasn't an option. The mere mention of Jason would probably just send him spiraling into a depression again. He closed his eyes. He couldn't let himself even entertain the thought. Jason was dead. And the dead didn't suddenly just come back to life.
It made Tim hate the world even more knowing that the Joker could walk around and continue to cause mayhem. That someone like Jason had to go the way he did and at such a young age. His life was stolen from him while monsters continued to walk around without a care in the world. Honestly, Tim wasn't sure how to feel about it anymore.
Most people would say he needed a therapist, but didn't everyone? Now all that was left to do was analyze the situation. There was always a way to figure out what caused the pain and Bruce wouldn't give up until he had answers. What intrigued him more was why he suddenly felt so angry. Tim gripped his cup tighter, worried that as soon as he opened his eyes, some unspoken rule would be broken and things would start to spiral out of his control, not that he had any to begin with.