Nerdybirdboy:

nerdybirdboy​:

“Likewise, Dr Thompkins,” Tim replied, a pleasant smile on his lips. Ok, Timmy, you can do this. Give her enough to be happy, but not enough to let her know any of your true thoughts and feelings, then it risks going straight back to Bruce and then he’ll definitely not let you be Robin anymore.

Sitting down, he was very conscious about keeping a fairly open body language, hiding the fact that he didn’t want to be there at all. “How does this work?” Tim’s voice was calm and steady, all of it through iron will. Which was also the only reason he wasn’t fidgeting. “If you want me to talk about the accident, I’ll do that, but it really was an accident. I wanted to sleep and in my sleep deprived state I took a couple of pills too much. That’s it, there’s nothing more to tell.”

What had happened was that Tim having not been able to sleep more than a couple of hours for quite some time and when Bruce and Alfred were going to be gone for the weekend, Tim had seen it as his chance to get some good sleep. He hadn’t really thought about what he was doing and had just taken some of the pills, which had been more than a person his size should take. Not dangerously much, but not good either. Okay, maybe a little dangerous, but the risk of him dying had been very low. Thankfully, Alfred had felt something was wrong and Bruce knew to never doubt Alfred’s senses and they had turned back. Instead of going away, they had spent the weekend monitoring Tim. Once he was awake and conscious enough to speak and drink, Bruce had been very very angry. Just as angry as when he’d run off to handle those thugs that first time before he became Robin. Alfred believed Tim when he said it had been an accident, Bruce hadn’t been sure.

It was true though. It had really been an accident, however, accident or not, Tim shouldn’t have had sleeping pills or benzo, but he had (not anymore though). Black market medicine, so he hadn’t stolen them from Alfred or anything. Tim didn’t think he’d done anything wrong besides worrying Bruce and Alfred.

Oh he was going straight into it? Okay, she could meet him there. But Leslie really ought to slow him down first. Get him comfortable. Or more comfortable at least. 

Closing the door, Leslie went about rummaging through the mini-fridge she had built into the cabinet against the wall. “Sure, we can talk about what happened if you want to Tim - do you want a drink? Snacks? I’ve got a stash of them here, you’re welcome to them anytime.”

Tim had clearly rationalised what had happened down to its finest points. Frankly, Leslie was fairly certain he was telling the truth, but even so, it was a symptom of what she feared was a much larger problem.

“So, you wanted to sleep? Okay, can I ask why you were sleep deprived in the first place? It sounds like you had a hard time getting sleep despite that - I presume that’s why you took the pills, but feel free to correct me.”

jp-todd-rp​:

Not a conversation he was looking forwards too, but Jason appreciated the warning. If Leslie asked… she was neutral ground. More than Alfred was. Alfred’s grief for him would be unbearable to watch, and Leslie?

She’d already seen the absolute worst of what this city had done to him. Hadn’t shied away when she first saw his scars. And hadn’t flinched when he had lashed out to her.

Grace’s name, was enough to lift Jason’s gaze towards Leslie.

He’d pushed her away, made vague promises of contact, he’d been cruel, he’d lied, and still –

“Is she alright? What she say?” And Gods, the sheer hope in his voice had Jason internally wincing. Give it a fucking rest. You’ve played your hand, you fucked up, she’s gone, she doesn’t want – you.

“Her shoulder is much better - thanks to you. Looking after her like you did forced her to rest it. I doubt she would have otherwise...” Leslie began, softening at the hopeful tone Jason’s voice had taken. 

Still, honesty was the best way to go. Leslie tried to put it to him gently. “She’s a little hurt. Confused mostly. Which I can’t say I blame her for. Without any context, you have to admit, upping and leaving mid argument doesn’t look good. She’s sent you messages while you’ve been out of it, by the way. Not to mention she’s noticed she hasn't seen Hood since the ordeal at the docks... She’s presuming Hood is just busy for now, but it’s clear she misses him as well.”

Leslie huffed a disbelieving laugh as she recalled their earlier conversation. “Funnily enough, one of her theories isn’t far off the mark. She was wondering if you have PTSD and she accidentally triggered something. Her worry was enough to make me track you down, lets put it that way. A good thing too really.” 

“I listened to her for the best part of an hour this morning, twisting herself into knots to give you the benefit of the doubt. She wants to believe that you wouldn’t just walk out on her without a good reason. Which you didn’t.” And wasn’t that the most frustrating thing of all? All the pinning the pair of them were doing and for what?

Leslie pressed her lips together, unable to restrain herself from asking the question. “When are you going to tell her?”

Tim took a deep breath. He had met Leslie before, but not like this. It was all Bruce's idea; if Tim wanted to continue as Robin, he had to talk to Leslie. Sure, he had been through a thing or two, but he didn't really think he needed therapy. He always had Dick to talk to, his brother always picked up the phone when Tim needed him. Taking another deep breath, Tim applied his Timothy mask and knocked on the door. @nerdybirdboy

Bruce was concerned, that much was clear.

Leslie was in agreement that perhaps having someone outside of the immediate family to talk to would be helpful, however on the few occasions she had met young Tim Drake in the past, he hadn't exactly been keen on the idea of therapy in general. Still, she was optimistic enough to keep an open mind. And really, the pool of qualified professionals in the know about the Wayne's was very limited. There weren't many other options.

"Hello Tim." Leslie greeted him warmly, pushing down the sense of Deja vu and stepping aside to let him past into her office. "It's good to see you again."

jp-todd-rp​:

Jason wanted to leave.

He didn’t want to talk about his mother.

Didn’t want to share how he had witnessed the slow descent from over the counter painkillers into heroin and morphine.

He resisted the urge to get up and leave. And he pushed down his desire to look for another feasible way out. She’d report back to Bruce, and he couldn’t risk Bruce taking away what he had worked so hard for.

So, instead, he found himself shrugging again.

“Dunno,” Jason muttered, still fiddling with the water bottle. “She was in pain a lot. And – normal painkillers didn’t cut it eventually, y'know. She needed stronger stuff to keep going. And that…” Jason trailed off, knowing that she’d pick up on it. Everyone knew what that meant, especially down in the Alley. The streets were riddled with addicts and sob stories like his. And no one cared.

She had hoped it had been something else. Not that there were any pleasant alternatives considering that the woman had died long before she ought to have. 

Leslie didn’t want to delve any deeper, not for a first session, it wouldn’t be fair.

Tightening her face into a grim kind of understanding, she nodded, not wanting to segue without acknowledging  what he had said. “It sounds like you did your best to look after the both of you during a really difficult time.”

Letting the weight of the moment settle slightly, Leslie made another mental note to circle back to this - his parents. It would take some time before he was ready for that, she was sure.  

“Is reading still something you enjoy?”

Continued from x with @bruce-wayne-rp

''Leslie. This is a surprise --''

Bruce's startled expression softened when he took in her words and the wrapped gift in her hands. ''Thank you, Leslie. You needn't have. Come on in, please, can I get you anything?'

“As if I’d let your birthday just pass us by. Don’t be silly.” Leslie admonished without any real heat to it, heels clicking against the solid wood flooring of his office.

“I’m fine, thank you.” She waved him off, taking a seat in one of the armchairs, eyeing the paperwork strewn across his desk. With a suspicious look, albeit tinged with amusement, Leslie jutted her chin out before passing Bruce the small wrapped photo frame. “You aren’t working today, are you?”

Possessed!AU Muse A has been acting strange lately, and Muse B is becoming increasing certain that this isn't really Muse A anymore. How do they bring the real Muse A back?