trans_9 | The worms crawl out...

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The worms crawl out...

Give it up. You lost. Get out of my head.

"No."

Really. Be reasonable. You have to climb out every three days and hang out in your swimming pool, or you're going to die. It's been two and a half already. Climb out like a good little slug-thing, and maybe I'll talk Brainy into building you a nice Habitrail.

"Maybe. I'm not taking that chance."

So--what? You're going to use my greymatter as your deathbed? Gross. Do you things rot in there, or do you ooze out when you die. Because rotting slugthing in my brain is just not something I want to deal with.

"I'm about to starve to death, and this is what you're worrying about?"

Don't expect me to be sympathetic. You took me over with no intention of ever giving me control of my own body again, and tried to kill my friends. I'll probably do a jig on your sluggly little grave.

"And here I thought you weren't going to turn into that psycho in your future."

I'm not--I won't.

"Delighting in the slow and painful death of another sentient creature? I don't know--sounds a lot like him to me."

...Why yes. Tim is strapped down to his bed, and it really does look like he's talking to himself.

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And the--true--words hit Tim like a physical blow. He clenches his fists to stop his hands from shaking. "That's not what we're talking about right now."

"No, we're not talking about anything, because you've forgotten the whole thing where you don't want to be Batman."

He's saying things to incite his anger on purpose. Whatever keeps him from just stuffing it all down, as he's done since his dad died, since his stepmom wound up in the nuthut...

Tim's eyes flash with anger, and he glares at Kon. "I'm not going to be Batman," he spits furiously. "Not ever." It's one of the memories he's relived the most during his time with the Yeerk. It had been fascinated by that possible future.

"Then stop acting like him!" Kon bursts out. "Stop trying to deal with stuff alone! All that happens is you're miserable and alone, instead of just miserable, and I know I wish Raven had come sooner, and I was so glad you guys came for me, and I was stupid to ever push my friends away!"

He holds out his hands.

"I get why you're trying to, but that's the same reason I know it doesn't work! It doesn't make you feel better! And I get it. I get what happened to you and how it feels."

"I almost killed you!" Tim exploded. "If it hadn't been for Danny and Brainy, I would have!" He grits his teeth and folds his arms tightly across his chest. "And it's not the same, Kon. Luthor wasn't in your head, sorting through your thoughts and your memories and everything that was you. He didn't go through every memory and every thought you ever had, looking for the most efficient way to kill us."

"No, he wasn't. He didn't have to, because he's the one that put everything in my head in there, and because killing you was what he made me to do. I was the most efficient way to kill you."

And--again, Tim can't say anything, because Kon's right. "That's not what you are now though."

He crosses his arms again. "Don't change the subject," he says. "My point is I know what it's like to look out from the inside of your own head and not have any control over what you're doing. I know what it's like to be used."

His expression softens. "I also know what it's like to try to push everyone away and try to deal with it all alone."

Tim shudders a little at Kon's words. Used. He'd been used. It makes him sick all over again, but he knows he's not going to throw up. Even if he tried, there's nothing left.

"I don't--that's just how I do things, Kon."

"It wasn't how I did things, either." And look where it got him.

He just fixes his gaze.

"Is it working for you?"

Really?

Tim meets his gaze for a beat, then sighs, and looks away.

"Not really."

Edited 2009-04-01 08:10 (UTC)

"It wasn't your fault, you know."

"Yeah," he says unconvincingly. Only--he was so stupid. And there were so many times he could have been free if he'd just tried hard enough.

Yeah, he's definitely blaming himself.

He knows better.

"It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, I know, Kon. I've been on the other side of this conversation."

"And I know how that went on my end, anyway."

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"I'm still guilty. You are ten times worst at that than I am."

Tim grits his teeth. "I could have fought harder," he says finally. "There were opportunities. I could have--been better."

"No, you couldn't have," says Kon. "You fought as hard as you could--and it was enough. And even if it hadn't been enough, it wouldn't have been your fault."

He takes a deep breath, and says what it took him this long to finally, finally figure out.

"When the bad guys do stuff like this, it's never the fault of the people they do it to. It's never their fault for not fighting hard enough, or for 'letting' it happen. It's not mine. It's not yours. It's always theirs."

A wince.

"And even though that's true, it still sucks. And you still feel used. And it takes a long time for that to go away."

It still isn't gone.

Tim's fists clench a few times, and he looks at Kon again, a bleak expression on his face. "How--how do you deal?" he asks, because if anyone can answer this, it's Kon. Tim just--doesn't know how he can deal with this.

"If I knew that, I probably wouldn't have hid on the farm for so long," Kon says, but then he really thinks about it.

He takes a deep breath.

"You just enjoy being free, being able to do the things it wouldn't let you do. Punching a bad guy in the face is kinda ten times more satisfying now after..after Luthor tried to turn me into one. It feels good every time I'm what he didn't want me to be." A good guy.

Taking pleasure in teen rebellion--it's a Kon thing.

"You let yourself be miserable for a while. Not dwell in it, just... it takes times to feel better, and in the meantime, you don't have to do fake smiles and pretend everything is all right. No one expects you to be perfectly fine after that, so there's no reason to expect yourself to be. Just don't dwell and obsess over it either. Try to have fun, try to get over it; eventually, you'll be able to pick yourself up again. But in the meantime, the only thing worse than feeling like crap is trying to fake you're fine on top of it. I managed to do that for, like, three days, before Ma told me I didn't have to put on a show for her and Pa."

What had Aunt Martha said? Something about letting himself process it, but then letting it go? He hadn't really listened, and he should have.

"And most importantly, you... you remember that everyone cares about you. No matter what what you are, no matter what you did. It makes it easier to stop being mad at yourself when you realize no one else is."

He gestures to himself. "Like, I'm not mad. At all. If anything, I figure now we're just even, on the 'getting mind controlled and trying to kill each other' end. Sucks to be us, huh?"

That's said with a tentative, gentle grin, one he's always used when trying to joke during situations where it may not be appropriate but are sometimes good to hear a joke during anyway.

Tim lets out a small laugh. "Yeah, it does." The joke... isn't that funny, actually, but it's nice to be able to laugh a little at something.

He nods to Kon. "...Thanks. I'll keep it in mind." And... it's good, kind of, to know that he doesn't have to be okay. Because because he still feels raw inside, and violated, and--whatever Kon said... he still feels responsible. That's just... going to take time.

Time, and a chance to heal.

"Look," says Kon, "If you really need some time alone, that's cool. I just wanted you to know that afterward, I was, y'know, here, and stuff."

No hiding? No stuffing it away? He's just...here, for whatever Tim needs, whether it's companionable silence or distracting joking around.

"Although you should probably get that hand fixed up before you do anything."

The one with the knuckles bleeding from punching the stall apart.

Tim makes a face and glances down at his hand. "...Yeah, probably." Property damage is Hell on your skin. He looks up at Kon again. "And--thanks. Again."

The worms crawl out...

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