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Tim was numb the entirety of traveling with Ra’s, it was like traveling in fog. He could hear Ra’s speaking, on occasion even other speakers, but it never felt important to know what he was saying.
Even when Tim was sure Ra’s was speaking to him.
No. It wasn’t until Tim woke up surrounded my silk, pillows, and candles that he could focus on anything. Though judging by the cotton feeling of his mouth and the headache, it wasn’t totally his fault, this feeling of being lost in fog.
“Timothy Drake.”
“Ra’s.” Timothy struggled to sit up, it felt like the world was spinning and he was going to get sick, so hard to focus in the dimly lit room. Only Ra’s stood out among the subdued brilliance of the room.
“I did inform you at the grave. You fail to take care of yourself, so you have given up your right to.”
“What?” Ra’s face seemed to be floaty in the light, and it was so hard to think past what he was saying.
“You are mine Timothy Drake. There was no one to stop me but you. And you acquiesced.”
“I didn’t acquiesce, you took me.” Tim was shaking his head, hands gripping at the silken sheets.
“You failed to even try and stop me. You wanted me to take you away Timothy who else is there that cares about you? No one has even noticed your absence.” Ra’s loomed over Tim, watching in cold amusement as he fell backwards trying to get away, before speaking into the boy’s face very slowly. Making sure that Tim caught every single word dripping from his mouth.
“You only have me.”
“That’s not true, Dick would…”
“Grayson? Timothy are you prepared to wait for the man that threw you away for my grandson?” Ra’s touched his face, long fingers curving around Tim’s chin, and pulling to meet the Demon’s eyes. “I assure you Timothy. There is no cry from Gotham at your absence. Nor from any other place. Your friends have forgotten you.”
“That’s not true.” He’s right, “I can still help.”
“Help? How when you have no identity?” Ra’s smiled teeth like ivory ready to sink into Tim. “I may still call you Timothy Drake, but it is because it suites me for the time being. There is no real Timothy Drake left. All you ever had, all that you were, was put into Robin.” Ra’s paused fingers stroking Tim’s face until nails started digging in.
“Robin was given away Timothy.”
“You’re wrong,” Tim was too weak to pull away. Too weak to feel other than panic and despair at the Demon’s words or to pull back from the frozen touch.
“Am I Timothy?” Ra’s smiled again moving onto the bed behind Tim, pulling the ex-vigilante back against his chest, lips resting against Tim’s ear as he stroked too hot flesh. “Do you hope that Grayson will take you back? Why would he Timothy, when he was the one that pushed you aside?”
Tim felt limp, a puppet whose strings were taken away, as Ra’s ran possessive fingers along his body. Lost in thought as he tried thinking past the Demon’s words.
“Do you miss the Detective?”
The tongue against his cheek, his ear, felt so cold like dead flesh. Like Bruce’s flesh after he was gone. Almost like the mud that had lain beneath his fingers so many times at the grave.
“Or would he have not noticed your absence either?”
No, Bruce would know, Bruce would have been there for him. Bruce wouldn’t have thrown him away.
“My poor sweet Timothy. Everyone in your life eventually throws you away.” Ra’s carded fingers through Tim’s hair before pulling the limp head back further against his chest, the veins and muscles on the boy’s neck standing out as Ra’s kissed them.
“Why do you torture yourself, Timothy? Just relax you will be safe with me.”
“No…” Tim twisted trying to get away from the lips biting into his.
“You are mine Timothy. You will never be pushed aside again. Never forgotten. Never alone. Always mine.”