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Bean Magic

Summary:

Tim woke up. It isn’t fun, but he needs coffee.

Unfortunately, his family is in the way.

Notes:

I’m very sorry. I know Sleep Deprived Tim Drake is overdone, but I’m tired

Also, don’t expect this to make any sense. I wrote it then posted it. It’s midnight.
I’m Tired.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Tim was…. Existing. He was in a pure state of bleh that wasn’t fun. Thinking thoughts took effort and he really didn’t like that, but what can you do. Brains brain. As they do. The human form has no control over the pure complexity of the human brain and yet humans pretend that they do as a pathetic and futile attempt to seem important but in the grand scheme of things no human has ever affected the course of the universe. While humans Exist, the universe Exists, and nothing a human has ever done or will ever do can change that. It will keep on universing as it does, and it will not stop for a very long time.

It was too early for this. Tim didn’t have the patience for his brain creating a philosophical argument. He needed the awake juice. The sweet delicious awakening of his e v e r y t h i n g with the wonderful beverage that is coffee. Unfortunately, he’d chosen to wake up at a time when the rest of his family were awake, so his chances of getting an uninterrupted cup of coffee were on par with a fig growing wings, and learning to talk. Not impossible with some genetic mutations, but the chance of a fruit learning to talk were still very low. As were the chances of his siblings leaving him alone.

Hissing at the bright light that filled his eyes as he left his room and entered the hallway, Tim made towards the kitchen. Why didn’t he just sleep in the kitchen. It was closer to the coffee. Less stairs. Perfect. Oh ow fuck that’s a door. Why did the universe hate him? All he ever wanted was just a little bit of good luck, but no, the universe refused to even offer him the smallest of comforts in this harsh reality that we call life, that is in truth just some twisted experiment of an asshole who hated things going right for Tim. Seriously, how easy would it have been to just let him walk through a door without hurting himself.

There were people in the kitchen. Ew. So what if they were his family. It didn’t matter. The only thing that would ever matter to Tim, ever in his life, would be coffee. Romance is gross, but he’d make an exception for the coffee. He briefly noticed the stares of his family as he reached the coffee machine, and went through the motions of making his coffee. When. When he. When he noticed. The. He noticed the broken. It was broken. Oh fuck. Why. W H Y!!! 

At this, the harshest of all the things the universe could have possibly done to him, he gave up. He cried. He was vaguely aware of the looks of concern his family were giving him, as he sank to the floor clutching the broken remains of his true love, and broke down. He examined the damage, to see how much damage was done, if he could bring it back to life, but- that was a- an impact mark. Where- where someone had punched it. Someone had punched the coffee maker. And. Broken. It.

Tim was about to commit murder.

“Who. Broke. It.”

Dick was the first to respond. 

“Timmy, are you ok?”

Who. Broke. It.”

Bruce spoke up next.

“Tim, we can just get you another-“

Who.”

Silence. Then Damian.

“It was Todd!”

Can always count on the youngest to rat out the others.

“You little-!”

“I will kill you.”

“No murdering your brothers Tim!”

“Oh fuck off dickface. No one asked you.”

“Jason. Be nice.”

“I’m sorry but the coffee zombie threatens to kill me and I’m the one that has to play nice? What the actual fuck, Bruce.”

“Threats are normal in this house Todd, don’t be a coward.”

“You absolute fucker.”

The clammer of voices grew louder as they all argued with each other but they were all ignoring the fact that the coffee machine was broken and that IT WAS JASON’S FAULT AND TIM WAS ABOUT TO COMMIT A MURDER WITHOUT HESITATION.

Shut. Up.

They all fell silent, a little uncomfortable at the look on Tim’s face. Good. Discomfort was the least of the punishment they deserved for this crime.

“Look, Timbo, I can just get ya another coffee maker and then it’ll all be fine right? All’s forgiven?”

I will rip out your toes, boil them in your stomach acid and feed them to your eyes. And once I’m done, you will be tried for treason, because I refuse to give you a merciful death.”

Silence. And then-

What in the actual fuck Timothy.”

Huh. Guess he broke Dick. The others were just standing there. He turned around. Tim didn’t remember standing up, but time is an illusion and movement doesn’t matter, we all end up in the ground anyway, so Tim moved on with his plan and grabbed the tongs. It was time to start.

Looking back at Jason, he smiled. He was well aware he looked insane, but he didn’t give a fuck. His fucks flew out the window when he lost access to his coffee. Murder was the only option now.

“Why is coffee so important? Surely you can function without it.”

He turned his glare to Bruce. Surely he’d heard wrong.

“Function. Without coffee. Are you insane?”

“Pretty sure that’s you Drake.”

“Shut it. Why would I function without coffee? How could I? The bean magic is good, and I feel it in my bones, and I like it. Who could ever function without coffee?”

Bean magic?”

“Yes. Bean magic. It’s wonderful. Truly beautiful.”

“Mkay, and what does this bean magic look like Timmers?”

“I cannot describe what it looks like, but it feels like waking up fully refreshed for the first time in never, and realising that you will never truly experience this bliss, never fully be able to enjoy it without dreading the inevitable fall into tiredness, yet treasuring every moment of pure joy as it resonates in your bones, sings in your blood and serenades your soul, as you soar above the clouds with eyes wider than a hawks, and realise that your human form can never contain this experience.”

“Timothy. Sweetheart. You need to sleep.”

The fuck was sleep. What the fuck. Bruce was losing his mind. Sleep isn’t a thing. Tim had certainly never heard of it before, and one hundred percent had never done it.

And then

Alfred entered the kitchen

Carrying

Coffee.

Oh finally. He could die happy now. Nothing would ever keep him from the only joy he’d ever felt in his miserable life, not even a machine broken by Inconsiderate treasonous siblings. He gulped down the beautiful drink, almost crying from sheer joy, and Tim could feel as all the cells in his body awoke and danced in happiness, as his life was now finally complete.

He drained the mug and looked up to see everyone staring at him. 

“What?”

If it was possible, their faces got more confused.

“You still gonna rip out my toes? Or can I keep them?”

“Timmy are you ok?”

“Tim you need to sleep.”

“I think you were possessed Drake.”

Ah. Yes. Jason. Broken machine. A cruel and uncaring universe. That. And the threat. Hmmmm.

“The bean magic possessed me. It claimed my sound and locked my bones. I can’t escape. And I don’t want to.”

Jason still wasn’t looking reassured, and started shifting towards the door. 

“And no, I won’t be stealing your feet fingers. Yet.”

Feet fingers.”

Tim left the kitchen. It was time to properly start his day. 

“Hey! No! The fuck you mean, yet? You keep your insane little gremlin hands away from my feet!”

“Tim, when you get back we’re having a discussion about… this.”

“Well done Drake, you’re an idiot. And a caffeine addict, apparently.”

“Timmy, why? You were supposed to be the normal brother.”

Nope. It’s their fault for getting in the way of his coffee. He isn’t offering any sympathy.

Besides, that was nothing.