![]() ![]() You want to tell someone and hear their thoughts on it, too. You try to understand it, you try to figure it out. "And that made you need to talk about it, because that's how you cope when something bothers you. Tim nodded, his small, sweaty hand squeezing Bruce's fingers. You had a flashback in the restaurant, didn't you? You remembered being back in that apartment, and it brought back all those sensations and feelings for you again?" You needed to say it, so we all would know and could help you. After a moment, Tim hesitantly reached back and let Bruce fold his hand in his. "Oh, Timmy." Bruce reached out a hand, hoping that Tim would take it. I knew Jason didn't wanna talk about it, he never wants to talk about it, and I made him anyway." Tim scrubbed his fist over his nose, trying to get rid of the snot still running over his upper lip, and sniffed wretchedly. Every time he thought he had a handle on one of these boys' thought processes, they proved him wrong. "I'm sorry." His voice was barely audible.īruce was baffled, though he tried not to show it. ![]() Tim swallowed, hard, and wrapped his arms around his own chest, knuckles going white. "I didn't hear what you and Jason were whispering about. Tim sat back against the sofa, little face red and blotched, eyes rimmed with tears. Then he shoved himself off his chest, almost violently, and Bruce opened his arms to let him escape. Tim choked back his latest sobs, going still in Bruce's arms. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he said, his voice cracking on the edge of a sob. He knew what men like Pittman did long before he'd been captured by one.īruce shuddered and held Tim impossibly tighter. That Jason's efforts to protect him from exactly what Pittman had done to him had succeeded. Some part of him had hoped that Tim didn't know what that was. Something to that effect.Īt the time, Bruce hadn't put sexual abuse into that category. They only needed his word, because of the things Pittman had done to Tim, not just to Jason. Tim had wanted to do all the talking, and he'd insisted that the police only needed to speak to him. But Bruce remembered, now, something he'd mentioned way back in the beginning, the very first night. Tim had never said anything specific, either. But all of Tim's symptoms had indicated that isolation and neglect were his biggest traumas, so Bruce had dared to hope. It didn't make sense that such a monster would be able to keep his hands off a child in his control, even though Tim was outside his preferred age range. Jason needed to be helped, too, someone needed to talk to him and help him work through his shock and horror, but Tim's needs were also urgent and could not be ignored.īruce had suspected, of course, that Pittman had molested Tim as well as Jason. Tim sobbed into his chest, his little fingers clutching Bruce's shirt in both fists. All Tim had seen in the last few hours was a series of people leaving the room, leaving because of him, it must have felt like, though Bruce knew it was their own issues that were the problem. First his parents had abandoned him in the restaurant, then Dick had taken off to work out his emotions, and now Jason had run away because he got too overwhelmed. ![]() He hurried over to the sofa and knelt down next to it, pulling Tim into a strong embrace. He'd lost track of how many times his heart had cracked in half because of these two boys. ![]() "Please don't leave me!"īruce's heart broke. Tim was leaning halfway off the sofa with his arms stretched toward him, tears and snot running down his face, his expression drawn in a terrible rictus of agony. "Please don't leave!"īruce halted immediately and turned back to him. But Jason turned on his heel and fled the room before Bruce could even attempt to ameliorate the situation.īruce took a half-step toward the door, but Tim's voice rang out, high and terrifed. Bruce stood up with his hands out, not sure what he was trying to do. He could barely hear the next words that were said, but Tim was sobbing, and Jason was still yelling. ![]()
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