Fic [DC]: Bruise Control - Tim/Cassie, PG

[angel_gidget]

Title: Bruise Control
Fandom: DCU, Teen Titans
Rating: PG
Word Count: 870 approx.
Summary: As Cassie helps patch Tim up, she tries to give the best advice she can, despite some surprising feelings of her own. Tim/Cassie. Mentions of Tim/Tam.
A/N: I’m just cleaning up my writing closet by posting this, really. The document was laying there, and I clearly planned to turn it into some epic longer thing, even toying around with doing an actual love triangle, but that never happened. Oh well. Enjoy.

“You screwed up.”

“Thanks for the support, Cassie.”

“I’m just putting that out there so we can get down to the second part.”

“Which is?”

“You screwed up, but I’m here for you.”

Tim sighed as his tone grew more sincere.

“Thanks.”

Cassie moved from the doorway of Tim’s apartment to the couch.

Looking around, she noticed that it was a rather austere place. The Titan’s tower was a hang out that mostly meant business, but when they had been little more than kids, the Young Justice cave had been a home away from home. Meaning, of course, that it had been a total pig sty. And though Tim had been the one to insist they clean up whenever the League was due to visit, he had still been enough of a teenage boy that the mess was partly his fault.

“Chrome and steel, Tim? Really?”

“It’s just a decor. One that fits my current WE persona. It’s comfortable where it counts.”

Cassie nodded as the small talk fell away to silence.

“You owe her an apology.”

“She won’t accept it.”

“That’s not–”

“She won’t accept it because it’s not enough. It can’t be. She’s a civilian. It’s… it’s huge for her, Cassie. She can’t shrug it off like you and I might.”

Cassie popped an eyebrow.

“I think you underestimate how pissed I would be if you faked my mom’s death. For that matter, you wouldn’t let it go either.”

“I would–”

“How’s Steph doing lately?”

“… point.”

Cassie hopped off the couch.

“Is your kitchen over here?”

“Yeah. Fridge should be stocked. Help yourself.”

She opened the freezer. It didn’t exactly meet her definition of stocked. There were just a couple TV dinners along with the ice tray. She took a closer peek. They were extra healthy. That wasn’t… too weird, but it nagged at Cassie. As far as she could remember, Tim had often tried to eat healthy, but he’d always left room for a little indulgence. And heck, he could afford it. Short of the meta crowd, he burned as many calories as anybody.

She pulled out the ice tray, and cracked it over a tea towel, making a poultice.

“Go sit on the couch.” She resorted to her leader-voice out of habit.

Tim obeyed. It thrilled her sometimes that she could do that–boss Robin around of all people–but she tried not to let it show. Smug glee wasn’t very leaderly.

Tim closed his eyes as she layed the ice over his reddening cheek. She could still see the red handprint where Tam had slapped him. It was ridiculously minor as far as hero’s injuries went, but it was on his face and as Tim had noted, he had an image to uphold.

He didn’t flinch as she applied the ice, just steadily breathed in and out. She could see his eyelashes fluttering, closed over the dark circles about his eyes.

The circles were too deep and the rest of him was too thin, but she refrained from saying so, because that level of trust–leaning back blind, letting someone in close to talk and touch his wounds–was getting rarer and rarer with him.

“Cassie?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

Cassie froze. That hurt. Why did it hurt? It shouldn’t. She’d just met Tam and she was a nice girl. And Tim needed nice in his life. Cassie knew that better than most, especially considering how sad and tired he looked curled into the couch cushions.

It’s the jealousy in ourselves that always takes us by surprise, Cassie could practically hear her mom’s voice as she recounted some tale of Hera.

Cassie shook it off. It was stupid. After all, she had Kon. Sort of. When they weren’t ‘taking a break’. When he wasn’t entrusting his secret Kryptonite stash to Rose.

Focus.

“Give her time. Give her time, and she’ll let you in again.”

The hopeful smile that slowly stretched over his face made her feel like a good person.

It just didn’t make her feel better.