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Tim was not a stranger to pain, or hunger, or fear.
He couldn’t even remember a time when he didn't know exactly what the cold flash of sudden blunt force trauma felt like or what the acrid bite of fear on his tongue tasted like. Those sensations had been with him for so long.
One of the most helpful things Shiva had taught Tim was how to conceptualize pain. To think back to when things had hurt just as badly in the past and remember that he had survived those moments. He had worked past the pain and the fear and made it out through to the other side. She taught him to focus on the fact that, after those moments of pain, there had been healing and pleasure and safety again.
It wasn’t exactly a meditation, but it wasn’t not one, either.
Tim spent a lot of time thinking about moments in his life that were worse than the one he was currently experiencing. And he had a lot of moments to choose from.
But he was having trouble finding solace in that technique now.
He was sitting on the floor of a shower in Beijing, China. Miles away from home.
Gotham City, Titan’s Tower, his Nests, his friends, his family were all across the world right now. The rapidly cooling water flowed down over him as he tried hard not to focus on the hurt that wracked through his body. His stomach roiled as sharp pains rocked through him. His limbs felt weak and shaky and he shivered with the effort not to completely collapse. He was cold and lost and alone and starving.
Incubi were generally very good at keeping their true nature hidden from humans. Up to a point at least. Tim had learned early on to control his emotions and use his glamor to make most people look past the oddities. The attachment issues, the color of his eyes, the bursts of possessiveness.
They were all easy to explain away as the usual teen drama, and when they weren’t…
There were always other excuses. Scarecrow’s fear toxin, Poison Ivy’s pollen, Joker’s gas: Gotham was full of mood-altering substances. In the rare moments when Tim had lost control, he had enough verisimilitude to fool even the World’s Greatest Detective.
Fortunately for Tim, that loss of control hadn’t happened often.
For the last few years at least, it had been easy to get what he needed. The love, friendship, and kinship Incubi needed to survive from his friends and family had been readily available. It had been easy to use his bonds with Dick and Bruce and Cass and Steph and the rest of Young Justice to sate any Incubus’s innate need for connection and affection.
Tim tried hard to convince himself that there had been times in his life when he had been hungrier than this. Moments shortly after the Quake when he hadn’t been able to immediately locate Dick or Bruce or Babs and Kon, Bart and Cassie were miles away. Or that time back before he had met any of them, laying alone in his room while his parents were halfway across the world.
Nights where his belly roiled and his mind went fuzzy with hunger and want. Times when his gums stung as his teeth grew longer and his head ached as his horns extended, and he could barely keep his eyes open because they were so much more sensitive than they usually were.
It had been so easy, after he met Bruce, to form connections and take what he needed without being too greedy. Without taking too much. His family, his circle of friends, they just got bigger every minute and he felt love and affection and validation and a sense of belonging that every instinctively tribal Incubi needed to survive.
At least it had been easy.
Before.
Before Bruce “died” and the irrational pain born of an Incubus losing a tribe member drove rationality from his mind. The pain of the broken bond convinced him that Dick had picked Damian over him. Before Tim fled Gotham and Jason left with the Outlaws and Cass went to find herself and Steph got busy and Harper went back to school and--
It had been weeks since he left Gotham.
He thought getting distance from the life he had with Bruce, getting distance from Dick and Damian might bring back his sense of rationality. Getting distance from everything that reminded him of his broken bond would ease the pain.
He thought he would be fine.
But Tim wasn’t fine.
It had been years since things had been this bad for him.
Tim wasn’t fine.
He was starving.
Letting out a low whimper Tim tried hard to focus. To see past his desperate hunger, the cloying sense of need. To think past the urge to run out into the city and find somebody, anybody, who could give him just a little affection. It wouldn’t be hard. A touch of glamour to hide the horns and fangs he couldn’t quite make recede right now. Maybe a little bit more to make him more attractive, more alluring, more desirable...
A whisper in the right ear, a flirtatious look…
It would take almost no effort to lure someone back to his rooms, to latch on to their thoughts and feelings and just take…
And just take.
A wave of revulsion washed over Tim and he groaned in pain and frustration. His heart stuttered his chest as he fought past his instincts to find his common sense, his “humanity” such as it was.
Ever since he began spending more time with Dick and Bruce, it had been easier for Tim to form connections with people. He fed in a way that felt honest and natural.A way that seemed ethical. He spent time with people. Formed natural bonds, had relationships that felt fulfilling and based on love and affection.
The only time he used his glamor was to hide his nature from the humans around him and to save himself when things looked dire.
He always did things the right way.
But, in this moment, miles from home and so hungry for love and affection, the ‘right way’ felt like a very distant concept. A concept he could barely even understand anymore.
Unable to help himself, Tim let out a broken sort of sob, pressing his palms into his face. He promised himself the hunger wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t last forever.
It couldn’t.
^*^*^*^*
Kon woke with a gasp, jolting up in bed and heart-pounding as he tried to focus on whatever it was that had startled him from sleep. Casting around with all his senses, Kon tried to focus. Metropolis sounded quiet and serene around him, there were no sounds of chaos or danger. Nothing smelled unusual, no stinging magic tugged at his skin.
He was just starting to wonder if it had been a dream that woke him up when he heard it again. The sound that must have startled him awake.
It was a low, plaintive moan followed by a broken sob in a voice that Kon knew better than he knew his own.
It was Tim’s voice.
Tim was sobbing.
Kon focused in again, honing his hearing on where Tim was located. Kon could hear him shivering, his teeth almost chattering, his heartbeat unevenly in his chest as he sobbed and groaned.
A sharp prickle of fear ran up Kon’s back. Without even bothering to pull on his uniform, Kon was out of his window and up in the sky.
He wasn’t sure where Tim was. All he had heard from him in the past few weeks were some sporadic text messages. He knew something bad had happened with Batman, that Tim was fighting with Dick, that his other siblings were struggling to cope. But Tim hadn’t given him the details. He tried to give Tim his space but…
Right now, it didn’t sound like Tim needed space.
Right now, it sounded like Tim needed help.
Tim sobbed again and Kon moved faster, feeling ice form on his skin and in his hair as he moved quickly through the darkened night sky. He followed the sound of Tim’s voice, his stuttering heartbeat.
Kon flew halfway across the world, to Northern China, to the Tongzhou district in Beijing. He came to a stop outside of a tall hotel building lined with gleaming windows. Listening carefully, Kon located the room Tim was in and then used his TTK to open the window locks and slip inside.
The hotel room was small, it was barren except for an unopened duffle bag in one corner, the bed had not been used. A scattered trail of pieces of Tim’s Red Robin uniform cut a path to the bathroom door. The shower was running and Kon could clearly hear Tim’s keening cries over the sound of the rushing water.
“Tim,” Kon called out, making his way hurried to the bathroom, pushing through the half-opened door. The door to the shower was made of opaque glass but Kon could see Tim huddled on the floor behind it. “Tim, are you ok?”
The sobbing stopped then. All Kon could hear was the increasing cadence of Tim’s breath, almost panting now as Kon stepped fully into the bathroom.
“Kon?” Tim’s voice sounded rough and uncertain as he pushed open the door to the shower. Heedless of the water and his nudity, Tim sprawled half out of the shower to look up at Kon with a sort of imploring disbelief that Kon didn’t understand but couldn’t help but respond to.
Dropping to his knees beside Tim on the floor, he was startled when Tim immediately half leaped at him. Wrapping his wet arms around Kon’s middle, he buried his face in Kon’s neck, sobbing desperately. Instinctively, Kon brought his arms up to pull Tim into a close hug.
“Please,” Tim begged. “Please, please, please, please--”
“Please, what? Tim, what happened? Are you alright? What’s going on--” Kon said as he ran a hand up and down Tim’s cold, bare back, in what he hoped was a soothing gesture, but it didn’t seem to bring Tim any comfort.
“Oh god, you’re here. Please don’t leave. Please don’t let go. Please, please, please, just touch me. Please, Kon. Please don’t leave me.”
Kon had never seen Tim like this before.
He had seen Tim bleeding and in pain, he had seen Tim in shock, he had seen Tim sad from a break-up, grief-stricken after the loss of his dad but this…
Kon had never seen Tim like this before.
So uncontrolled, nearly incoherent with--
With whatever it was that was wracking through him.
“No, I won’t. I won’t leave,” Kon promised. “I’m right here. You’re ok, Tim. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Tim let out another sob, this one almost sounded like relief as he slid his hands up under Kon’s soaked sleep shirt, as if he was desperate to touch as much of Kon’s skin as possible.
“Tim, this shower is freezing. You’re freezing. Your skin is like ice. We need to turn the water off,” Kon said, making to pull away from Tim briefly to grip the taps. Tim moaned and clutched him tighter, half crawling into Kon’s lap, not letting him pull away.
Kon let out a few soothing sounds and used his TTK to shut off the taps and grab a towel.
“Buddy, you’re freezing. Here, use this,” Kon wrapped the towel around Tim’s trembling shoulders the best he could with Tim basically attached to him. “What happened? I heard you crying. Are you ok?”
“No-- No, I just-- I just-- Please, Kon just--”
Tim didn’t seem able to form a full sentence much less explain what was happening. Kon’s concern deepened into something sharp as he tried to work some warmth back into Tim’s skin.
“Yeah, I hear you. I’m not going anywhere,” Kon promised as he used his one free hand and TTK to run the towel over Tim’s damp, freezing body. Maybe it was the weird lighting in the dark hotel, maybe it was Kon’s vision going haywire from panic, but Tim’s skin looked paler, more luminous than Kon could ever remember seeing it before.
“Promise,” Tim bit out, pressing his face even more fiercely into Kon’s neck. “Promise you won’t leave. No matter what. Promise me you won’t leave.”
“I won’t, I promise. You’re freezing though. We’re gonna get you dried off and into that warm bed, ok?”
Tim didn’t answer, just bit off another sob and clutched Kon tighter. Kon couldn’t remember Tim ever having been this strong before. He dried Tim off the best he could and when he got to his feet, Tim didn’t let go. He climbed on to Kon, wrapping his arms and legs around him as if he was a piece of driftwood in a vast choppy ocean.
Wrapping one arm under Tim’s butt and using his TTK, Kon carried Tim back out into the bedroom. He pulled down the sheets and when it became clear to Tim that Kon was trying to pull off his wet clothes, Tim seemed almost relieved. He let Kon go long enough for him to wrestle his wet shirt and sleep pants to the floor.
“I don’t have any other--” Kon began hesitantly but was cut off when Tim just reached for him, pulling him down on the bed beside him.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tim said, tugging Kon down to lay on his back in the bed beside Tim. Moving in close, Tim lay on his belly, half on top of Kon, tangling their legs together as he rested his head on Kon’s shoulder.
It took nearly half an hour under the blankets before Tim’s shivering stopped. The plaintive moans gave way to soft contented sounds as Tim nuzzled in close to Kon.
“You… feeling better, bud?” Kon asked, tentatively. Tim’s heartbeat and breathing had evened out and his skin had warmed up. He still felt cooler than a human should, but not as bad as before.
“I-- a little,” Tim admitted, his voice muffled as he pressed his face closer to the skin at the crook of Kon’s neck.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Kon ventured, running a soothing hand up and down Tim’s spine. “Did someone attack you?”
“Not-- No, no one attacked me…”
“What happened?”
Tim didn’t answer right away. He tensed in Kon’s arms, muscles going firm under Kon’s hands. He didn’t breathe for one long second before Kon felt him force himself to relax.
“I-- If I do tell you… You can’t tell anyone else,” Tim said in a soft voice, roughened from his earlier crying.
“Yeah bud, I won’t. It’ll be just between us. You and me. That’s it.”
Tim took in a deep shuddering breath as if bracing for something. He had an arm on either side of Kon’s head and he pushed himself up to look down at Kon. His face was pale and deeply serious, his eyes were full and sad and a nearly luminous blue. They glowed like light azure in the darkened room.
Kon tensed and lifted a hand to cup Tim’s face.
“Tim?” Kon said, alarm washing through him. “Your eyes--? What is it? I don’t smell… I don’t smell magic. You--”
“It’s not magic. Not really,” Tim said, his expression turning wry. “It’s, I--” Tim paused and took a deep breath. He shook his head and when he did Kon could see something small in his hair. Running his fingers through the cool damp strands, Kon encountered something… firm and hard. Almost like a bone protruding up into a smooth curl. They were dark, almost black, neatly hidden in the thick hair on either side of Tim’s head. Kon ran his fingers over the place where they met the soft skin of Tim’s skull, trying to figure out--
Tim drew in a sharp breath, almost a gasp, and tensed in Kon’s arms.
“Oh, Kon--” Tim bit out, reaching a hand up hastily to grip at Kon’s wrist. “Don’t. Don’t do that. Right now. They’re-- They’re sensitive.”
“Your… Your horns… are sensitive… Right now?” Kon said incredulously.
Tim’s expression was a very Tim-like mixture of wry, amused, guilty, and resigned.
“I mean, they’re usually sensitive but more so right now.”
“I don’t… remember you having horns before…” Kon ventured. “Or your eyes glowing. And is your skin usually this… This… Um… Like this?”
Tim puffed out a breath and settled back down on Kon’s chest. He crossed his arms over Kon’s chest and rested his chin on them, tilting his head back slightly to look up at Kon from under the fall of his bangs.
“I’m not a human, Kon. I’m an incubus. I’ve always been one, but I’m usually a lot better at keeping it to myself. The horns retract and so do the teeth--”
“Teeth?” Kon squeaked.
Tim gave Kon a sharp grin and that’s when Kon saw the long fangs that pressed into Tim’s bottom lip.
“Yup. Those are long teeth,” Kon agreed and Tim’s smile turned into something a lot more natural.
“My eyes and skin generally look normal, human-like, unless--” Tim trailed off for a moment and sighed, as if not sure how to finish the sentence.
“Unless what?”
“Unless I need to feed. Then the glowing is good at attracting… people. Like moths almost…”
Kon stilled then as he processed what Tim was saying.
“You need to feed? Like right now? How do incubuses feed? Sex right? Is that dangerous? You need--”
Tim reached up a hand and put it over Kon’s mouth to stop him from talking.
“Incubi,” Tim corrected. “And the sex thing is a myth used to demonize incubi,” Tim grumbled. “An urban legend. In addition to needing the usual sources of food, Incubi need emotional sustenance as well. We’re like empaths. We feed on each other’s emotions. We’re tribal, so we usually use family and friendship bonds to feed that part of ourselves…”
The pieces were starting to come together in Kon’s head and he nodded along with what Tim was saying.
“Buuuuut, you left all your family and friends behind and now you’re starving?”
“When faced with grief and trauma in our family unit, Incubi don’t always behave rationally,” Tim conceded softly. “I didn’t want to feel pain from my family so I left them.”
“Oh, Tim,” Kon whispered and wrapped his arms tighter around Tim, pulling him in close. The first time, Kon felt the hard jut of Tim’s horns pressing against the bottom of his chin but-- It didn’t feel strange in the way Kon would have expected it to.
“I wasn’t really thinking clearly,” Tim confessed.
“And when you spent the better part of the last 7 years hiding from me that you’re an incubus, were you thinking clearly then?” Kon asked wryly.
Tim puffed out a sigh and shook his head.
“Probably not. I got so used to keeping it from everyone. I was so worried about Batman finding out, that it felt like I couldn’t tell anyone because then it might get back to him…”
“Batman didn’t know?”
“Nope. Between the glamor and teen angst, I was able to keep him from figuring it out.”
“So no one knows…?”
“My mom did, but she hid what we were from my dad. Incubi get a pretty bad rap, you know? People think we just feed off them, take and take and drain them dry. It’s not like that. It’s just… a different way to experience people, you know?”
Kon nodded. It made sense. Kon wasn’t sure he would have trusted himself not to let something accidentally slip to Batman if he did know. Batman had been… very good at what he did.
“So you kept it a secret from everyone…”
“Oh I think John Constantine at least suspects but he thinks it’s funny enough that he hasn’t told anyone, yet…”
“That sounds about right…” Kon said with a laugh.
Tim tensed in his arms again before looking back up at Kon, his dimly glowing eyes looking eerie but comforting all at the same time.
“Are you angry with me?”
“A little. But it mostly feels like that time you insisted to everyone that your name was Alvin.”
“Hey, Alvin Draper died a war hero. Show some respect,” Tim said with faux indignance.
Kon couldn’t help but laugh then. He felt something like pure relief wash over him when Tim started laughing too. When Kon had found him less than an hour before, he was worried Tim was near death. It was good to have him laughing, joking, and alive.
Tim told him more about incubi then.
He told Kon about how his mom told him what he was when he was young, how she taught him to hide it. How people won’t understand and how they would fear he would drain them dry. How he had used his glamor and stealth skills to stalk Batman and Robin when he was young. How he formed bonds and how badly it hurt him when they broke.
He told Kon about how it felt when his horns came in, a strange mix of pleasure and pain that he couldn’t quite describe. He told Kon how having Young Justice in addition to Bruce and the other Bats just made him feel safer like he had two tribes to fall back on. How he held logic and rationality so close because he knew when he was in emotional pain they were far from his grasp.
He told Kon that when Bruce was gone when their bond broke, that something inside Tim broke too. How he lashed out at Dick and everyone else. How he wanted to hide from that pain. How he came here thinking he would be safe but he wasn’t. That it wasn’t until Kon had come to him that night that he felt something close to sane again.
“I’m glad you found me,” Tim said, his voice choked and low.
“Me too,” Kon said, hugging him close.
“I’m glad you know now. I’m glad… I’m glad I don’t have to hide as much.”
“Life is easier when you don’t need to retract your horns?” Kon teased.
“Life is easier when I can tell you I’m hungry and I need a hug,” Tim said wryly. “But not having to hide the horns will be a plus too.”
“Will you tell the others?” Kon asked, curious.
“I think so. Eventually. I always meant to but… It didn’t seem safe. I didn’t want to lose any more bonds than I already had and between your vulnerability to magic and Bruce’s distaste for it…” Tim trailed off and shrugged. “Discretion seemed the better part of valor.”
Kon nodded slowly, understanding what Tim was getting at. Keeping the secret was almost like self-defense at this point. If everyone had reacted badly to Tim revealing the truth, with this mother dead, Tim would have lost all the bonds he used to sustain himself. A dangerous prospect if this was what happened when he went just a week without feeding.
“So it’s all a myth, then? About Incubuses--”
“Incubi,” Tim corrected.
“--Incubi needing to feed on sex.”
“Ummm, it’s part of how we feed,” Tim said slowly, pointedly not looking at Kon. “It’s less that it’s the only way we can feed and more that it’s harder to hide what we are when we’re wrapped up in the emotion and passion inherent in sex.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, is that why you never--” Kon started and then broke off.
“Never went all the way with anyone?” Tim finished for him. “Yeah, there was that and…”
“And…?”
“It just feels bigger and scarier. If I get as swept away by emotion, which is easy to do in the heat of it, what will I be like in that moment? Will I have any control or will I be all--”
“All what?”
Tim shrugged.
“All horny and glowy and teethy, I guess.”
Kon gave him a sly grin.
“I think you’re supposed to be horny, my dude.”
“Yeah, not this kind, though,” Tim said, tapping a finger to one of the slightly curled horns nestled into his soft hair.
“I think both ways are fine,” Kon assured him with a smile.
“You might be the only one who thinks that,” Tim said wryly and Kon laughed.
They talked until Tim finally fell asleep. Kon stayed up to watch Tim, taking solace in the slow and steady rhythm of his breathing. As he watched, the glow to Tim’s skin faded and his horns slowly shrank until Kon could only make them out if he looked really hard.
It was almost daybreak when Kon drifted off to sleep next to Tim, wondering if Zatana had any books he could borrow about Incubi.