batmanschmatman | 099 [voice/spam]

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099 [voice/spam]

[Private to Ariadne]

You're right. I don't know how it's happening, but we're dream sharing. Dean and Buffy figured it out too. Did the Admiral give you a PASIV?

[Spam for Tim]

[As soon as he'd finished talking with Dean, he knew he needed to talk to Tim for about a hundred and eight reasons. Partially because this was a potential security breach, because he still didn't love the idea of people having free access to sensitive information he was privy to. But that was really just a formality, the tip of the ice berg, and had it just been that, he might have just told him when he saw him later today. But he officially didn't want to wait until a reasonable hour to do it, not after what had happened and not after what he'd found out.

He hadn't bothered changing, and headed down the hall in the same t-shirt and flannel pants he'd been sleeping in and knocked on Tim's door, loudly. He didn't care at this point if it seemed insane to get this upset about a nightmare - two nightmares - and wake Tim up this early, because he knew what happened now. It wasn't just a dream, Tim had actively interfered and he just-

He banged on his door again, impatient and (irrationally) worried, and maybe wondering how easy it would be to just pick the lock and let himself in.]

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Haven't heard back yet. I'll let you know when I do.

I was talking to the Doctor earlier. He was talking about psychic connections - he said that - theoretically - a strong psychic could be able to pull non-psychics into each other's dreams.

So, that narrows it down to the Time Lord, Arkady and Charles? Assuming that's what's going on. Or am I forgetting someone?

Maybe. Assuming it's someone on the Barge. Assuming that someone is even aware of what they're doing, or aware that they have the power.

I don't want to accuse anyone without very strong evidence - especially not a warden.

I'm right with you on that. How are you doing?

I'm damn tired, that's how I'm doing. [She rubs her face.] I gotta get this figured out.

You will. Coffee machine hanging in there?

Yeah, so far so good. Hopefully they'll hold out for a while longer.

Tim and I might try keeping each other up as much as possible until this is over. Are the dreams you've been wandering into bad?

Some of them. All of them have been disconcerting, in one way or another.

Well, you're running around in someone's subconscious without warning, I'd imagine that's disconcerting even with your background. I'm maybe starting to understand why it was so hard for Mal to wrap her mind around this place being real.

You have to be really careful, to keep track of what's real and what isn't.

Some things happened to Mal that were out of her control, which led to her confusion.

[The knock sounded like an earthquake, and Tim flailed in his bed, kicking off covers and practically vaulting to his feet. He grasped at his chest, half expecting a bleeding wound, butt here was none. There was none. It had just been a dream, and he was freaking out for nothing.

It was easier to think it than believe it, though, and he rubbed his eyes as he headed for the door, leaving his bedroom door open. Everything felt so...surreal, like he wasn't sure if he should be in Gotham, or on the Barge, or somewhere else entirely right now. At least opening the door told him where he was.]

Dick? [He reached for his chest again when he saw the frantic look on his face. something definitely wasn't right here.]

[Dick had been about to knock again when Tim opened the door, and for a second, all he could do was stare at his brother. He remembered trying to comfort him when he'd found his father's body on the floor of their apartment, and he remembered Tim bleeding to death on the floor in front of him, telling him it wasn't his fault, and watching Dean hold Sam's body and cry, and what it had been like to feel Tim go limp in his arms and know he was dead-

He moved forward and pulled Tim into a hug without really thinking about it, holding him tightly and just irrationally needing to reassure himself that Tim was fine. He was alive, it was just a dream. His throat felt tight again, and he swallowed thickly, still a little beyond caring about tackling his brother for a hug stupidly early in the morning in the hallway.]

Don't ever do that again. [His voice was choked, almost angry, but he didn't move away. Explanations could come in a minute.]

[Tim let out a quiet 'oof' at the sudden hug, and clapped his hands against Dick's back in surprise. Something was definitely wrong here, and he frowned over Dick's shoulder, like he was still trying to figure out what was going on.]

Answer the door? [But he had a sick feeling that he knew exactly what Dick was talking about, knew exactly what he meant, and he couldn't agree to that, couldn't ever agree to that.]

[Dick scowled, and tried to pull himself together enough to actually face Tim again. He took a deep breath and pulled back just enough to stare at him, still frowning, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other cupping the back of his neck.]

What do you remember? ['And don't lie' went unsaid, but was still hovering in the air. If Ariadne, Buffy and Dean were right, Tim should remember just as well as he did, and this wasn't something he was letting him try to brush off like it wasn't a big deal.]

[Tim opened his mouth, but it was like he could taste that unsaid sentence and pressed his lips together again. Instead, he glanced out into the hall way and pulled away, waving Dick inside.]

I was dreaming, [he mumbled, hoping Dick would take the hint and not do this at the asscrack of dawn int he hallway.]

[It didn't matter what time it was, Dick was never sleeping again and Tim probably shouldn't be either. He'd already had a couple other people witnessing god knows what personal memories and secrets because something - and it could have been a telepath or Randal Flagg or a flood or just a weird accident - was inviting them in without his consent and he wasn't eager to have it keep happening.

He stepped into the apartment, not dropping the topic.]

We've all been dream sharing. For about a week. No one's sure how or why, but Ariadne suspected it, and I guess Buffy confirmed it. Dean just told me. What do you remember?

[Tim ran his hands over his face to rub the sleep from his eyes. He vaguely remembered the dream with Shego, talking about this, but it had been wrapped up in too many emotions to properly deal with.]

The other me was going to shoot you. So I stopped him.

[Dick grimaced, and maybe because it was early and he was tired and still pretty rattled that there was some new force doing god knows what to their subconsciouses, he didn't just drop it. He didn't want to just pretend this hadn't happened, it was still too raw and emotional.]

You seriously think I'd be fine and just move on with my life like nothing had happened if [You died, he can't make himself say it.] something ever happened to you?

It was just a dream, Dick. [Tim turned away, walking into the kitchen for a glass of water. He didn't want to have this conversation, didn't want to tell Dick that he KNEW he would deal with loss better than Tim could. He already had, hadn't he? He kept proving that he was much more capable of coping than Tim was.]

Tim, stop- [He followed, grabbing Tim's wrist to stop him from totally running away.] It wasn't just a dream. [Tim had actively changed the plot, because the usual recurring nightmare ended in the other Tim shooting him and reminding him that this was his fault, if he hadn't died, this wouldn't have happened. And now he would be totally unsurprised if that plot twist became a frequent occurrence.

Was it even possible to have nightmares about nightmares?

He sighed.] We don't need to make a huge deal out of this. But it would kill me to lose you. [He smiled a little, trying to lighten what he was saying a little.] Can we just promise to try to not die? I think we both suck at dealing with this kind of thing.

Edited 2012-05-16 05:25 (UTC)

[He can't quite turn to look at Dick for a moment, silent, and he knows that Dick's right, he knows he should just agree and smooth things out between them right now. But Tim knows he was right in the dream.

When Conner died, Tim tried to reclone him. When Bart died, he thought about trying again. when Bruce died...even before he'd known for certain that it hadn't been death, he'd been so completely unable to accept it. He couldn't grieve anymore, he knew that, but Dick. Dick knew how to grieve, and move on with his life.

He turned, and offered Dick a dry smile.]

I think we promise that every night.

[Dick's smile faltered a little before he just grinned, shaking his head a little bit and laughing softly.]

You know what I meant.

[He was kind of considering just moving on and filling him in on what happened. But it was just hard to shake the image and emotions of everything that had happened, and he pulled Tim into another hug, trying not to sound too choked up.] Just give me a minute, it's been a really weird night. You scared the hell out of me.

[His throat worked as he was pulled into that hug, and he returned it, staring hard at the wall over Dick's shoulder. His eyes stung, but he wouldn't let himself cry.] Yeah, [was all he said, and hugged Dick a little tighter.]

[Dick squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden burn as Tim hugged him tighter and took a shaky deep breath. Tim was fine. And how lucky was he, really, to be able to wake his brother up and hug him and reassure himself that he was fine? He honestly didn't want to imagine what it was like for Dean, whenever that nightmare woke him up and left him realizing Sam was gone. Not just not on the Barge, but actually dead. And he really didn't think he could handle that, not without losing something important.

Eventually, after a long moment, he carefully pulled away, but kept a hand on Tim's shoulder.] Ariadne's got a plan to try and find out what's going on and who or what's causing it. I told her I'd help her out.

[He was thankful for something else to focus on, really, something solution oriented, and nodded.] What is it?

[Dick sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair and wondering if more caffeine would help up his ability to talk about and process all of this.] I know I probably shouldn't have to ask this, but we need to keep this a cone of silence type deal, alright?

[And he's maybe going to be heading over to sit down on your couch, come with.]

Obviously. [But he turns and follows, waiting for Dick to spill.]

[Dick flops down on the couch and launches into the explanation, not entirely sure how he felt about telling Tim about all of it but. Oh well, desperate times.]

Okay, there's this device from her world that links people's subconsciouses and allows them to dream share. Ariadne's asked the Admiral for one and she asked me to go under with her to try and figure out what's going on.

[Well that just sounds like adding problems on top of problems, but. Tim just frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.]

How's that going to work?

You hook yourself up to this machine, via an IV, and I guess if someone besides the two of us are altering the dreamscape, we'll know. [It was sort of a shitty explanation, but he didn't have anything that was much better, if he was being totally honest.]

I think she just needs someone else to do it with her. I trust her.

[He was silent for a long moment, frowning. It was hard to really focus his thoughts; his head was jumping off in a hundred different directions.]

I don't know if I like the sound of that, but. Do you need any help? [He doesn't. actually want to go under at all. :\] Someone to watch the door, anything.

[lol neither does Dick. :V But oh well. Desperate times, and such.]

What I really need is just not to go to sleep until this is all over. I really don't need someone popping in and finding out the codes for the JLA teleporter or something. [He says it like he's joking but this is a legit concern stay out of my head everyone. :|]

I have a never ending supply of coffee.

Ariadne and I are taking bets on how long it'll take for the coffee makers to burn out.

I'll take a couple more days. Twenty Barge Bucks.

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