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Hey, Jason, check out this—
But Tim’s thought was cut off before he could finish it.
Not now, Tim.
And with that, the soulbond was closed. Jason had always been good at turning their link off, unlike Tim, who never did. It was like there was a blanket over Jason’s mind for an hour or so—Tim knew it was still there, felt its presence, but nothing came out or in.
It didn’t take long before Jason was back and sent Tim an apologetic, Sorry, babe.
Everything okay? Tim send back, remembering the Outlaws were on a mission in Canada right now.
Yeah, yeah. Just had to concentrate. You were saying?
Later, in the privacy of his room and Jason’s sleeping mind in the back of his, Tim considered that moment again. It had seemed innocuous at the time, but… it wasn’t the first time. His partner—his soulmate—had been closing the bond more and more often recently. Sure, he’d always given some plausible reason: that he needed to concentrate; that he was having a private moment with someone who didn’t want Tim to know about everything they were saying; that he’d been hit over the head… okay, the last one was probably true.
But still. It had happened a lot; often enough that Tim was rapidly reaching one conclusion: Jason did not want their link open all the time.
Tim loved their soulbond. It had been the thing that allowed Jason and him to move past their rocky beginnings; the thing that helped them stay close over the time and distance between them that came with their jobs; the thing that was keeping him from being so lonely all the time.
Obviously, Jason did not feel the same.
Tim felt terrible for not noticing sooner. Jason had always been a private person; of course a soulbond would feel like an invasion of his mind. There was no question in Tim’s mind that Jason loved him. Didn’t mean that he wanted or even tolerated Tim’s mind touching his the whole time.
Fuck, when Tim considered the kind of stuff Jason had been fighting against when they’d met—the way Ra’s had attempted to use his half-formed bond with Jason after the pit against Bruce—he felt sick. How could he have forced Jason into a repeat of that?
They couldn’t continue like this, Tim decided. If this, the bond that Tim treasured beyond all else, was chaining Jason down, he would just have to learn to let go of it.
Research indicated that visualization was key. A shield or a barrier, the websites had said, retractable but firm. Bonds were just two brains singing particularly in tune, as one YouTuber had phrased it. So Tim tried to think of it as soundproofing his brain.
His first try… well. He lasted a whole thirty minutes before a stray thought went to Jason and plop, the barrier he’d shakily tried to erect had come down.
Tim? Blue confusion tinged the bond.
Yes? Even though he was too tired to keep closing off his thoughts, Tim did his best to keep the shame at his failure from filtering through.
Where did you go? Are you okay?
I’m fine. There. That had some proper conviction behind it. Just needed a bit of silence.
There was a silence tinged with concern in his head, then: Okay. If you’re sure.
Great. Now he’d made Jason worry when Tim had wanted to do the opposite. Next time, he vowed, he would keep in control for longer, do better.
So Tim practiced. Mantras seemed to really help. As long as Tim could keep his mind on something else, keep it occupied, there was no reason for it to reach out to Jason’s.
Except Tim was smart. His brain kept finding cracks to slip through. In response, Tim armored his walls until he found the perfect method: Writing code in his head.
Contrary to the depiction of hackers on tv, it wasn’t actually that easy to program even a simple tool, let alone a virus or other intelligent malware. In Tim’s head, now, the most magnificent Spywares were taking shapes. Certain governments would pale in envy, he thought, if they saw what he was coming up with. Sometimes Tim even bothered to write them down. Mostly, though, it was merely a chain of thoughts, going on and on and on and on under whatever train of thought he was actually focusing on, keeping his mind busy and closed-off.
It was working. He knew it was working. The bond stayed closed for hours at a time now.
If only that sour taste in his mouth would go away.
“Hey,” Jason asked one morning, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Tim’s ear.
“Mmmh?” Tim asked, feeling soft and warm and safe.
“You’ve been closing off the bond a lot recently.”
“Yeah, ‘cause it’s better that way,” Tim explained sleepily. Why did they have to discuss that now, when he finally had Jason for himself and the bond was open for once?
“’Kay then.” Jason kissed his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”
Tim did.
They continued on like this. Jason didn’t bring Tim’s withdrawal up again, and Tim thought it was his way of showing his appreciation. Jason certainly seemed to go out of his way to kiss Tim more, talk to him in words, so that was something. It didn’t quite make up for not knowing for a fact how Jason felt, but… it was fine.
Until Jason left for Brazil, and they didn’t see each other for three months.
The rituals Tim observed grew stricter each day. Where at first he’d considered routine as something that made it easy for his mind to slip up, he now saw that it actually helped keep his brain in check. As long as it knew exactly what his body had to do while he was quietly building code in the back of his mind, there was no need for thoughts of Jason to intrude.
That didn’t mean that Tim didn’t miss him. Life always seemed more colorful with Jason around. There was no routine when the two of them were together; if there was, the rituals (drinking coffee in bed, a kiss on the cheek before leaving, pancakes after midnight) seemed like the best, most comfortable thing in the world, like miracles in miniature. Jason just… did that for Tim.
In the few moments that he allowed himself to think about his soulmate, the doubts began to creep in. Had he ever done the same for Jason?
Maybe what Tim had been mistaken for love had been nothing but the intimacy of a forced bond. Did Jason even love him anymore? Had he ever really?
It took some time for Tim to wake up. He felt more rested than he had in weeks, warm and safe and enclosed in—
Mornin’.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tim closed the connection in a panic. He hadn’t meant to do that. His mind had just decided to open the link in his sleep, and his dreams must’ve bled right into Jason’s.
The phone rang. With a heavy heart, Tim accepted the call.
Jason’s voice was frantic. “Tim? What the fuck happened? Why did you close the connection?”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Tim said firmly. At least it was easier to lie in voice than in thought. “Everything is as it should be.”
There was a long silence. “Okay,” Jason finally said. “I guess…okay. Whatever. Bye.”
As Tim listened to the dial tone, he knew it was over. Those occasional flares of their bond were clearly nothing but an annoyance to Jason, tying him to a relationship he no longer wanted.
Okay, then. Tim refused to be a burden. He hadn’t been one to his parents, he hadn’t been one to Bruce, and he would not be one to Jason. He’d release Jason from this obligation once and for all, even if it killed him.
The digits on the screen were moving. Everything was grey.
Tim squinted. That couldn’t be right. It was just an ordinary console window. Must’ve been his brain being weird again. He hadn’t slept in… had it been a week? More. Maybe ten days. Just quick power naps here and there until he could be sure he’d pass out too deeply for any dreams.
A gloved hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. “How’re you coming along, Tim?”
“Good. I just need to tweak a few more tokens, and then we should have something solid to send Lex Corp,” Tim explained. Another wave of wooziness hit, and he swayed in his seat before catching himself.
Bruce frowned. “Tim? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Tim nodded. All he wanted was to get out of here. He needed to sleep and to stop dreaming. Whichever came first.
“Maybe you should—”
But whatever Bruce had been about to suggest, it was too late. Tim’s world went black.
Shhh, don’t move. Everything’s fine. Sleep a bit longer if you can.
When Tim opened his eyes this time, he was on a bed in the cave med room, lying on his side, Jason next to him, their legs tangled and faces close.
“What’re you doing here?” Tim asked, shocked.
Jason’s eyes blinked open, and he moved a hand to rest gently on Tim’s neck, checking his pulse before he answered. You collapsed.
“How long was I out?” Tim was determined not to use the link.
Jason ignored the hint. Long enough for me to catch a flight home and get here with an hour to spare.
Jesus fucking Christ, that was the opposite of what Tim wanted. (Well. There was a small voice in the back of his head that reminded him that he’d wanted nothing more than Jason here. But it wasn’t what he was supposed to want.)
Sorry I made you worry.
That’s not it. I’m the one who fucked up. Please don’t close the connection again, I’m sorry.
Jason wasn’t making sense. What are you talking about?
I saw your dreams tonight. Tim, look at me. Jason held his gaze. You are not, and will never be, in any way comparable to Ra’s al-Ghul. I’m sorry.
Tim frowned. What for?
For letting you think that. Behind Jason’s word came an enormous wave of grief, though he attempted to tamp it down right away. I should have noticed what was happening sooner. I never wanted you to think that—that I don’t want you. I always want you.
Tim was absolutely sure that Jason had nothing to apologize for. He was the one that had fucked up. If he hadn’t collapsed, Jason wouldn’t have to be here.
Tim. Jason was starting to sound desperate. What do I have to do to get you to listen to me? Really listen?
I’m listening.
No, you’re not. There was a tug on their link. Tim had never felt anything like it before. From one second to the next, he was flooded with Jason’s thoughts, a barrage he could not escape if he wanted to.
There was a maelstrom of thoughts. Jason must’ve been holding back just as much as Tim had, if not more.
(Tim couldn’t consider the idea of Jason being as overtired as Tim had been, out on a mission and surrounded by dangerous people. It didn’t bear thinking about.)
At first, Jason focused on the way it felt to cut himself off from Tim, and Tim felt a sharp hurt slice through him, like sand rubbing into an open wound constantly until they were connected again. Shutting out Ra’s was a relief, Jason thought at him, but you…
For a moment, Tim saw so clearly how much Jason valued him and their bond. How honored he was by it. The way he just liked sharing shit with Tim, be it important or trivial. The only reason he occasionally cut it off was that he did not want to burden Tim with the kind of shit he saw on the regular, the terrible things he sometimes still did.
Their link might not be a need for him the way it was for Tim, but the reassurance that he was not alone and would not be forgotten was a guiding star.
And then the hurt, the insecurities came. Why is he drawing back? How worry about Tim was slowly replaced with the convection of: Now that he knows me, he doesn’t like me anymore. Of course. No one does.
“I like you!” Tim blurted out. It seemed important to say that out loud right now. “I like you so much.”
“I like you, too.” Jason’s voice was so, so warm. Tim felt like he was drowning in the blue-green of his eyes. In fact, I’d go a lot further than that. So no shutting me out anymore, okay?
Okay. Tim couldn’t quite believe it yet. The tension hadn’t really left his body. His mind was still expecting to go into shut-off mode any second now, and he was so, so tired. But…
Stay with me?
Jason was a warm presence in his bed and his mind, his love and worry seeping through every pore. Tim thought he could get used to this again.
Always.