Across || Tim Drake + Avengers Crossover

Chapter 13

"Woah, you okay?"

Tim slowly blinked at Clint, not breaking eye contact as he poured three cups of coffee and spilled a quarter of the remainder on the counter. He looked down at the mess, mind trying to process why there was spilled coffee in front of him before he picked up one of the cups and downed the scalding hot coffee in one shot.

Feeling a little more awake, Tim took a towel from the sink and wiped the mess away, placing his used cup in the sink. He picked up the two other mugs and returned to his room, not noticing Clint watching him in confusion throughout the whole interaction.

He hadn't slept properly in the last few days, too busy going over the notes in his wrist computer and trying to figure out the mechanics of everything. He'd gotten a few hours of sleep here and there, but for the most part, he'd been going at it for at least three days straight. The most important thing was understanding how the contraption worked. Tim knew that it was probably enough to just follow the instructions on the blueprint, but he wanted to be extra careful, lest he was sent somewhere other than home. He'd decided that if he was going to make it, he was going to make it right.

When he'd studied the machine back in his dimension, it had been more of a side project so he hadn't put too much thought into it after establishing that there were no leads to the creator of the machine. Now, it was his only ticket back home.

Tim rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand, and took another sip of the coffee. He had to consider sourcing the materials to make it soon. He was initially going to pay for it with the credit card he had in his emergency pack, but then realized that it wasn't valid in this dimension, leaving his only option which was ask Tony. And with the way the man didn't trust him around any of his gadgets, Tim wasn't really betting on full support.

It also raised the question on whether to tell them his situation. It was no doubt going to be forced out of him if he requested anything to do with the machine. After all, it really wasn't normal for a teen to ask for specific metal sheets and wiring tools for no reason. There was, of course, the fact that the Avengers were under SHIELD and he had no guarantee that they'd keep him a secret. Tim shuddered inwardly at the idea of his existence being uncovered to SHIELD. With how hard he'd worked to keep himself out of suspicion, it would definitely send him back to square one if he were found out.

Tim flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. If only there was a way to get materials without suspicion... Perhaps-

"Um... you okay dude?"

Tim continued staring at the ceiling, mind barely registering that it was... Peter's voice? Tim turned his head slightly to the right. Sure enough, Peter was awkwardly standing in the doorway with half of the Avengers behind him. Tim sat up, confused.

"Huh? What're you doing here?"

Peter fidgeted, glancing back at Steve, who smiled in encouragement. Tim connected the dots, laughing slightly.

"Wow, did you guys seriously bring in Peter to come and talk to me? What, teen-to-teen?"

Clint stepped forwards. "Well, you've kinda been acting all depressed and moody for the last week. You don't even come out of here!" He glanced around the room. "Also, that can't be a healthy amount of coffee mugs you have here."

Tim didn't even bother to look at the desk, knowing that there were at least five mugs there. He had been putting them back in the kitchen as he drank them periodically, but it looked like it had piled up again.

"Hahah 'it's not healthy ' he said!" Tim parroted sarcastically, laughing for no reason before shutting up almost immediately. Damn, these mood swings were something.  

"Okay, what do you guys want?" Tim asked, still thinking about his own problems. He already knew what they wanted; it was the same back home. They wanted him to drink less coffee, sleep more than thirty minutes a day, have some dignity... all that basic human stuff. Tim glanced over at Peter again. He had probably originally been called in to do that intern thing Tony-

Tim bolted up, grabbing Peter's shoulders. "You!"

Peter confusedly stared back, trying to inch away from the obviously highly caffeinated teen in front of him.

"Me?"

Tim nodded vigorously, his excitement and relief filling his chest. The caffeine seemed to be making it worse now that he had a clear plan on what to do. All he needed to do now was to get Peter to agree. He swayed a little, twisting around and leaning on Peter's shoulder. He suddenly felt a little woozy, but ignored it. Peter looked nervously back at Clint who was motioning something at him with his hands. Tim didn't bother looking back.

"Peter, can you do me a favor? Look this is gonna sound confusing and I know-" Tim paused, jumping back as a fist punched where his head had been. Rude. He sobered up immediately, assuming a fighting position and giving everyone a hard glare. Peter looked apologetic, nervously wringing his fingers out.

"What the actual heck Peter?"

"Dude I'm sorry I didn't want to do it, but Clint told me to get you to sleep and you weren't going to get sleep with all the coffee you've drunk and you're high key creeping me ou-"

Tim rubbed a hand down his face, groaning loudly. Judging by their attitudes now, he wasn't going to be able to do anything unless they thought he got enough rest.

"Fine, I'll sleep. Happy?"

He unceremoniously shooed Peter out the door and closed it softly, almost hearing the relieved sigh from outside the door. Why did they care about him so much anyways? He was literally a stranger in their home. He shook his head to himself as he opened his wrist computer again.

An hour wouldn't hurt anyone, right? As long as they thought he was sleeping he should be fine...

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Tim actually ended up sleeping for almost three hours after trying to stay awake for a few more hours, making him no longer feel like he was about to faint any moment and more like the zombie he usually was. In other words, he felt pretty normal. But the mirror in front of him was telling him otherwise.

Tim stared back at his face, almost in awe as he gently touched the dark bags under his eyes. He couldn't believe the others had even managed to look at him with this face. No wonder Peter was creeped out. He looked like a monster, even after three hours of sleep.

Tim sighed. With how he was looking now, there was no way in hell anyone was going to let him do anything. They'd probably attempt knocking him out again until he looked better. But Tim had a plan.

He moved back into his room and looked out the window to see the sun rising. It was time to go out.