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“I thought you guys were getting along,” Tim said, in lieu of greeting. "You guys are having problems?"
"Mm? Who?" Kon didn't look away from the racing game he had playing on the screen.
“You and Jon.”
Kon hummed thoughtfully. Then frowned. Then paused his game so that he could look up at Tim. “We are?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you?”
“I didn’t think so.”
“You didn’t think so?”
“No, I didn’t think so,” Kon repeated.
“But. He said you weren’t his big brother,” Tim pointed out. Because Jon had. Less than two hours earlier. In front of a bunch of his own friends and their families. The amount of tension in the room had ramped up so high that even Dick couldn’t seem to lighten the mood.
The whole of Superman’s family didn’t seem much more than vaguely amused at the statement, however.
“And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’?” Tim blinked a few times.
“So he said I wasn’t his big brother. So what?” Kon asked. Which… didn’t mean he missed Jon saying that. Why wasn’t he hurt by it?
“I. I dunno. I just thought that was kinda mean?” Tim blinked back at Kon.
Kon blinked back at Tim.
“Well, it’s not,” Kon said.
“It’s not?”
“It seems that my best friend has been replaced with an echo,” Kon sighed.
“I just. It seems… mean.”
“I just said it wasn’t,” Kon sighed. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like he was lying or something.”
“What? Wasn’t he?”
“No? I’m not.”
“You’re. Not.”
“And the echo returns,” Kon rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the paused game on the screen. “How’s about this, Tim: you let this go and play the next few rounds of Sonic Racing with me.”
Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, then nodded slowly and sat next to Kon on the couch. What he’d expected was a bit of insight on Kon’s feelings about the whole thing. Which, I suppose, he did? But he hadn’t expected that Kon didn’t care about the whole thing. He’d thought Jon and Kon were a lot closer than that.
Kon passed Tim a remote, even as the gears in Tim’s brain turned. “I’m gonna be Shadow.”
Tim broke out of his reverie to snort. “Of course you are.”
--
The next day, Tim went out of his way to corner Jon when Damian was off getting a snack or something, for the two of them.
“Hey, Kon’s boyfriend,” Jon greeted.
Tim rolled his eyes. “We’re still not dating,” he said. Because this wasn’t a new greeting that Jon was trying out. It was Jon’s “subtle” way of trying to get his brother and Damian’s brother to start dating. (Something about it working when Bart kept doing it to Dick, about Wally, but Tim didn’t believe that.)
“Seriously? I lose another dollar to Damian for every month that you two don’t get your shit together,” Jon sighed.
“I’m gonna ignore that, for my sanity.”
“Ignoring it won’t make it go away,” Jon grinned. He was missing a tooth, and Tim wondered if it happened naturally or in a fight of some kind.
Tim made a mental note to find an X-Ray of a Kryptonian skull, because he suddenly wondered if teeth worked the same way for them as they did for people. Then he immediately crossed it off his list, because Clark didn’t have any X-rays of his teeth from when he was younger, and Jon was only half-Kryptonian and wouldn’t have the kind of data Tim was most curious about. Then he mentally un-crossed it out, because half-Kryptonian teeth could be interesting, too.
I mean, the real question was how different is Kryptonian biology from human biology? But that didn’t mean that half-Kryptonian data points were useless. If anything, the hybridity of the half-Kryptonians would show signs of convergent biology, right?
“So, what’s up?” Jon asked.
“Oh,” Tim blinked his way back to the present. “Um. I was just… wondering. Why did you say that? You know. Yesterday.”
“I talk every day, just about,” Jon said. “You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”
Tim wondered how he could forget saying such a needlessly cruel thing. Especially since it was untrue, on top of everything else. Tim, personally, remembered a good deal of his blatant lies, particularly when they were recent.
“Uh. About Kon, you know,” Tim glanced away and rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t exactly planned to confront Jon so directly about the whole thing. “About him not being your big brother.”
Jon was quiet, but when Tim looked up at Jon, he saw a confused smile on his face, not any form of contrition or guilt. That kind of hurt, really. It also felt a bit like a hot coal in Tim’s gut, angry to the point of near irrationality. He buried the anger, though, because lashing out in a conversation was weakness and he could avoid it.
“Really, that?” Jon asked.
“Yeah,” Tim said carefully.
“Well, I mean. He’s not,” Jon shrugged.
And he was so nonchalant about it. Tim was more than a little at a loss. What was he supposed to say to something like that? Something so nonchalant and stated as if it were fact?
“I thought you knew that,” Jon continued.
Tim certainly didn’t, but couldn’t do much more than gape a bit at Jon.
Damian walked back into the room, a bowl of fruit salad in either hand. Fruit salad with vanilla sauce poured generously over the top. If Tim were a bit less stricken at Jon’s casual, callous dismissal of Kon’s fraternity, the sight would have made him hungry.
“Drake,” Damian sniffed.
“Hey, Dames!” Jon turned to Damian. “You knew Kon wasn’t my big brother, right?”
Damian eyed him for a long moment, then gave a thoughtful hum. “I suppose that the clone is not,” he agreed.
Tim felt his stomach drop at Damian’s agreement, too. If Damian couldn’t accept Jon’s blood brother as being Jon’s brother, half-brother or no, then what chance did Tim have, having none of Damian’s blood? He’d thought they were getting along better, lately.
Damian passed a bowl of fruit salad to Jon. “You are dismissed, Timothy. Your pedestrian views of the Cheese Viking franchise are not welcome, today.”
“Right,” Tim shuffled back and away. “I’ll… see you guys later.”
--
Clark was the next Super on Tim’s list. Maybe he’d at least disagree with Jon, about the brother thing.
Though, after Jon’s matter-of-fact reiteration of his dismissal of his fraternity to Kon, Tim wasn’t overly confident in the whole thing. If anything, he was worried that Clark would just. Agree. Find no problem with the whole thing.
He tracked down Clark on the Watchtower, when Clark was on Monitor Duty.
“Red Robin,” Clark greeted. Because he was good about Bruce’s rules, when he was on duty and on the Watchtower. Not everyone in the League was, but Clark almost went out of his way to be good about stuff like that. Which was probably why he was one of B’s few friends.
“Superman,” Tim returned.
“Did you need anything?” Clark smiled down at Tim.
Tim shifted on the spot, glancing anywhere but Clark. “It’s not a big deal, really, but if you have time…?” He winced a little, at calling it “not a big deal,” because he thought it should be more of a big deal, but he soldiered on, anyway.
“Sure, RR, I’ve always got time for you. Any of you, really.”
Tim knew he meant “young heroes," but that didn’t stop him from feeling warm and fuzzy inside. Superman, the Superman, was willing to make time for Tim. It was… wow. It was a lot, honestly.
“It’s um. It’s about the thing Jon said, a while back?” Tim hazarded.
Clark smiled at him quizzically. He kept half an eye on the monitors indicated by “Monitor Duty,” but otherwise seemed to be giving Tim his pretty much undivided attention. "What he said?” Clark prodded.
“Yeah. A few days back?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” Clark chuckled. “Was it something I was around for?”
A brief surge of anger went through Tim, but he smothered it before it could make the conversation needlessly more difficult. “Yeah, you were there,” he said. He kept his tone careful and light, even though he found himself more than a bit angry, on Kon’s behalf. Why didn’t Clark remember something so callous? Did he think it was okay, like Jon and Kon both seemed to?
“And?” Clark’s smile was so patient.
It pissed Tim off.
“You know. Jon’s ‘he’s not my big brother,’” Tim managed.
“Oh. Oh, that!” Clark leaned his head back and laughed, long and hard. “Yeah, I remember that. What about it?” his patient smile was back, but with a touch of confusion thrown in. “I’m just glad he wasn’t saying that around a bunch of civilians."
Tim was. He was incensed. Why was it okay around heroes, but not civilians?
“I just. Is-is-is it appropriate?” Tim managed.
“I don’t see why not?” Clark didn’t even miss a beat. Tim never wanted, so badly, to throttle someone.
Tim had Kryptonite in his utility—no. No, he wasn’t going to throttle Superman. He wasn’t going to inconvenience the League like that, no matter how much he definitely wanted to.
“Oh,” Tim said, through a frozen smile. “Okay.”
Clark looked pleasant, but confused. Tim didn’t think he deserved any benefit of the doubt, after he called the denial of fraternity “okay,” but he was too worked up, under his calm exterior, to address it to Clark. Instead, Tim made a mental note of the whole thing, to deal with later. When he felt a bit less like killing Superman. And the second Superboy, come to think of it.
Just. Kon deserved better, you know?
--
The next on Tim’s list was Kara.
Kara hadn’t seemed surprised or upset by Jon’s words against Kon, either. Which, in Tim’s book, was kind of awful.
I mean, now that he thought of it, B hadn’t seemed upset by it either, even though he certainly had opinions on how Clark – the Supers in general – should treat Kon. Tim mentally added an inquisition of Bruce to the end of his (equally mental) list of things to do.
But! Kara was next on the list.
“Supergirl,” Tim greeted. He mentally prepared himself to be civil with her. To not let his previous experience and conversations with Jon and Clark paint his perceptions of Kara in advance.
“Red Robin?” Kara startled and turned to him, wide eyed. “What are you doing here? Surely not—are you looking for Kon?”
“No… is he around?”
“No, I just can’t think of another reason that you would be in, ya know, my neck of the woods.” Kara gave a hesitant, confused smile. “You’re usually with Kon. Aren’t you two, like, besties?”
“Besties,” Tim cracked a smile.
“You know what I mean,” Kara gave a flustered laugh. “Sorry. Bats, you know? You guys are a bit intimidating. Yeah?”
“I guess,” Tim said. “But, uh, no. I’m not looking for Kon, this time. I’m. I came to talk to you, about what Jon said a few days ago.”
“Oh. Okay?” Kara stopped her nervous hovering.
All the Supers seemed to do that, and – normally – Tim found it endearing. That day, however, he actually found it more annoying than endearing.
“Yeah, um. You were there—”
“Oh, well. I don’t remember, so…” Kara interrupted. “Is it something I should remember? Or… no?”
“I mean,” Tim made a face. They really didn’t see anything wrong with it, did they? He didn’t get it. Was he going to have to sit the whole Superfamily down in order to run them through the appropriate way for siblings to refer to each other? Which, you know, at the bare minimum included siblings actually acknowledging that they were siblings. Even if Damian didn’t even do that much, most of the time.
“Oh, was it bad?” Kara asked.
“He said Kon wasn’t his big brother,” Tim said. Because, obviously, that should be able to speak for itself.
Was it because Kon was half-Luthor? Because, honestly, it would be awfully sucky of Jon to judge Kon for parentage he had no choice on, you know? Especially what with Jon’s best friend being Damian, who was related to the Al Ghuls. The Al Ghuls were, quite honestly, worse than the Luthors could ever be. The Luthors, for one thing, didn’t have any of Tim’s organs jarred up and stored somewhere for a rainy day.
“Oh, that?” Kara breathed a big sigh of relief. “Gosh, you had me, like, actually worried there, for a second!”
“What?”
“Yeah, I know. Clark says I get worked up about unknowns, sometimes, because they’re not something I can control. You know? I have so much strength and speed and all that, but I can’t use any of it for things I don’t know. I mean,” Kara laughed once to herself, a bit breathless. “I mean, obviously I don’t think strength and speed can fix everything, right? I know that—”
“But. Jon said that,” Tim pressed. “In front of everyone.”
“Yeah, Clark says were probably half a step from having to explain it to someone outside the community,” Kara shrugged. “Jon, though, thinks he’s really funny.”
“Funny?”
“Yeah, and we would have been able to persuade him to let the joke go, but then Kon decided that it was funny,” Kara gave a sigh, then an exasperated laugh. “It was all over when Kon boosted Jon’s ego about the whole thing.”
Tim frowned at her.
“Is that all?” Kara asked. “Because I hear something – not that I’m trying to ditch you! I mean, like, it sounds pretty minor if there’s—!”
“No, it’s fine,” Tim said.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Kara grinned at him, then flew off.
Tim watched her go, trying to puzzle out why Kon didn’t just think it was okay – the denial of fraternity and all that – but thought it was funny. Because, really. It just didn’t make sense to Tim! Damian’s jabs, at least, always hurt Tim on some level.
Which…
Okay, Tim was going to bury that back where it was, deep down. He and Damian were doing a lot better, and old wounds just weren’t worth the time.
--
Bruce was last on the list. At least, the list as Tim currently had it, in his head.
Bruce was one of the few other people there, when Jon said that Kon wasn’t his big brother, who didn’t react negatively. Bruce didn’t outright condone it, either, which Tim allowed to inspire a bit of hope that it was just B being stoic, not B condoning the behaviour or words.
Bruce was the easiest person to find, out of all the people that Tim wanted to speak to on the matter. Bruce, naturally, lived at home – which was also where Tim lived – and Bruce always returned home after work or outings. So, even if Tim couldn’t be guaranteed that Bruce would be home at a given time, he could be guaranteed that Bruce would always return there. That was why Tim didn't mentally cancel or reschedule, when he realized that Bruce (and Alfred) had left the Manor, inconveniently, when Tim decided to have the conversation about the Supers’ apparent lack of concern with Jon’s anti-fraternal words about Kon.
He still couldn’t believe that Kon thought it was funny, either. Tim just… couldn’t figure what about the whole thing was “funny.” Kon always hated how singled-out and othered he felt, right? Why would he think it was funny when his own brother was doing it?
Anyway, Bruce wasn’t there when Tim wanted to have that conversation. So, naturally, Tim decided to stakeout Bruce’s upstairs office until Bruce was back, because Bruce had paperwork from WE, which sat on his desk in his office, and Tim felt confident that he could corner Bruce upon his return.
While he was waiting, Tim started on some of Bruce’s WE paperwork. You know, since it was just there, anyway.
Bruce returned and entered the office after Tim had long since gotten through all the WE paperwork. Tim was glad the paperwork was done, too, because it meant that Bruce wouldn’t be able to get out of the conversation using the paperwork as an excuse. Not that Tim particularly thought that Bruce would try to get out of it. But, you know. Just in case.
Bruce was surprised to find Tim in his study, but he didn’t jump or anything. The only show of surprise was a twitch of his expression, brief and missable.
Tim didn’t miss it.
“Tim,” Bruce greeted.
“Bruce,” Tim greeted back.
“Is there a reason for your takeover of my desk and study, Tim?” Bruce asked.
“I wanted to talk.”
“Hm.” Bruce sighed and shrugged off his blazer, then nodded Tim onwards.
That was as good a cue as any. In fact, it was more of a cue than Bruce usually afforded, to his own children or otherwise.
Tim cleared his throat, “Well, it’s about—” he felt suddenly ridiculous about the whole thing. Why was he talking to Bruce about it, again? Was there a proper reason for it? Was it just… beating a dead horse? I mean, if Kon didn’t even care—
“Tim?” Bruce prodded. He was standing much closer, then.
Tim jerked his gaze up and over to Bruce, who stood at his shoulder. The startle was more than obvious. Bruce raised an eyebrow while looking down at Tim.
“Tim, are you all right?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, I just—it’s about Jon.”
“Jonzz, Stewart, Constantine…” Bruce raised his eyebrow a bit further. “We have several Johns.”
“Uh, Superboy-Jon,” Tim said. “He. You remember a while back? The get-together?”
“Yes?”
“Jon said. Well. I guess I might be making more of a big deal of it than necessary. Maybe it just reminded me of, you know, me and Damian too much. Early on, I mean.” Tim dropped his gaze.
“I’m listening,” Bruce murmured. And he meant it.
“Jon said that Kon wasn’t his big brother,” Tim said.
“I remember.”
“And… and none of them seem to think there’s anything wrong with it,” Tim said. He looked up at Bruce again, trying to get across how awful he thought that was.
Bruce slowly frowned at him.
“Kon didn’t think anything was wrong with it. Jon didn’t, either. Or Clark. Or Kara!”
Bruce nodded slowly. “You’re focusing on the wrong part of the statement, Tim,” he said. It sounded like the answer to a case, a conclusion made from clues that Tim didn’t remember giving.
Tim blinked up at him. “What?”
“Tim, how old is Jonathan?”
Tim’s blinking slowed and his frown deepened. He didn’t know what that had to do with anything. “Jon’s twelve,” he said. “He likes to lord it over Damian that he’s almost an entire year older.” It’s actually quite funny to Tim, too. Usually. He wondered what Bruce was getting at.
“And how old is Conner?”
“What do you mean?”
“Play along, Tim. Humour me.” Bruce was leaning on the back of the office chair, by then.
Tim sighed and allowed himself an eyeroll. “Kon’s six, chronologically. His papers say that he’s sixteen, though, thanks to us—”
“He’s six,” Bruce nodded. “And Jon… is twelve.” He raised a meaningful eyebrow.
Tim opened his mouth to ask what the point was, then snapped his mouth shut and actually thought about the information, as Bruce had lain it out for him. “Kon… isn’t his big brother,” he said slowly.
“The emphasis isn’t on ‘brother,’” Bruce said.
“Kon isn’t his big brother,” Tim sank down in the seat. “I…”
“It’s a bit of an inside joke, as they no longer present the entire joke when it is presented. It seems to have created a bit of awkwardness, at the last gathering, however. So, it should probably be addressed,” Bruce sighed. “Conner is Jonathan’s little brother, though, yes. Chronologically speaking. And Jon has been reveling in that revelation for a few weeks, now.”
“That explains a lot,” Tim murmured.
Bruce nodded. “I’ll have a talk with Clark, about unintentional implications. I assume you thought the emphasis was on the fraternal part of the statement? Yes. You would be protective of Kon over that, especially after the disaster that was your introduction to Damian.”
Sometimes, Bruce made it easy – in his day-to-day life, anyway – for people to forget he was a Detective. They were all detectives, sure, but Bruce was something else about it, sometimes.
And Tim? Sometimes Tim missed things right in front of him.
“We all have our blind spots, Tim,” Bruce said gently. “Your blind spots tend to be things you hold especially close, emotionally. I find that my blind spots are similarly emotional and closely held. It’s not an overall failing to make a mistake or misinterpret something.”
“Right,” Tim nodded. He pushed the office chair back – Bruce allowed for it by removing his weight from the back of the chair – and stood up.
“I mean it,” Bruce said. “You’re on your way to being a better detective than any of us. Misreading a situation or two is bound to happen, even in the pursuit of the sharpening of your skills.”
“Okay, sure,” Tim shrugged. He didn’t think Bruce was lying or anything. But he felt a bit sheepish, regardless.
“Thank you for doing my paperwork, Tim. You didn’t have to, of course. But I appreciate it.” Bruce followed Tim around the desk and over to the door.
“Yeah, sure,” Tim said. “That’s no problem.”
--
Tim was back at the Tower with Kon. He rather wanted to bring up the whole thing, but he still felt... really dumb for not picking up what Jon actually meant. Clearly Damian had, you know? So, on some level, it was apparent.
“Wow, you’re thinking really loud,” Kon laughed. He hit the pause button for their game, then turned sideways on the couch. “What’s up, man? If you think any harder, you’re going to have smoke coming out of your ears or something.”
“It’s... not important,” Tim said.
“If it’s important to you, it’s important to me,” Kon disagreed.
“It really isn’t important,” Tim insisted.
“Well, fine. If it occupies and bothers you, it matters to me,” Kon amended. “It doesn’t have to be important to be worth someone’s time, Rob.”
Tim sighed. He debated, for a shamefully long moment, just ignoring Kon and asking him to unpause the game. But that felt unkind, and Tim didn’t want to be unkind, just because he felt embarrassed about the whole thing. “It’s about the thing Jon said,” he finally managed. “You know, the thing we were talking about almost a week ago?”
“Mm... yeah, I think I know what you’re talking about. That joke Jon tells, right? B sent out a memo about it, so...” Kon smiled and shrugged. “I guess the joke wasn’t as obvious to some folks as it was to us, you know? But then again, it’s a shortened version of the original joke.”
“I thought Jon was saying you weren’t his brother,” Tim rushed out. “And I was upset about it. And I was upset that you were okay with it, and Kara and Clark were okay with it. And even Bruce seemed to be okay with it.”
“Yeah,” Kon laughed, though Tim could tell that it wasn’t an unkind kind of laugh. It was just an amusement at the situation, itself. No blame, no cruelty, no judgment. “It’s not as self-explanatory as I thought it was,” he said. “I don’t blame you for not getting it right away. Though I do wonder why you didn’t ask. You know, if it bothered you that much and everything.”
“I didn’t know there was anything to ask about,” Tim said.
Kon nodded. “Okay, sure. That makes sense.”
“I should have told you what I was thinking, though,” Tim said. And that statement was a bit more like pulling teeth, because Tim always found it really difficult to admit he was wrong, and what he could have done better. He obsessed over it, inwardly, but vocalizing it was. It was just hard. Difficult. Made him feel a bit lesser, for whatever reason.
“I mean, it would have cut your confusion short,” Kon shrugged. “But, like you said, you didn’t know there was anything to ask about. I don’t see a point in beating yourself up over choices you already made.”
“And it was over a joke,” Tim sighed.
“Yeah,” Kon laughed again. “Chronological age versus physical age is kind of a source of a lot of jokes, when me n’ Jon are at the farm. Especially if someone is being put in charge of something. Jon loves to claim that he should be the one in charge, because he’s twice as old as me, chronologically speaking.”
Tim cracked a smile.
“Yeah, it’s funny, you can laugh,” Kon pushed Tim’s shoulder. “I’m six , Tim. It’s hilarious.”
Tim snorted. “I guess so. I feel bad for thinking ill of Jon, though. I mean. Jon’s always so nice. I guess I just started to wonder if there wasn’t another reason that he and Damian got along so well... and that’s kind of awful of me, not just thinking ill of Jon, but thinking ill of Damian, too. And Kara and Clark. I spent days thinking those things.”
“Yeah? And? Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone has misunderstandings,” Kon said. “It’s really not a big deal.”
“Maybe not to you—”
“No, seriously. It’s not a big deal. Especially when you’re willing to admit you were wrong and stuff. You know? Everyone makes mistakes. Even Superman and Batman makes mistakes, why would you or I be any different? I’ve certainly had my share of misunderstandings. Hell, you and I had a million and ten misunderstandings, when we first joined the same team.”
Oh my god, they didn’t get along at all, back then.
“Yeah,” Tim cracked a smile. “But you’d think I’d get better at—”
“Oh my god,” Kon groaned. “It’s fine! No one’s even hurt, emotionally. It was mild confusion. Seriously, dude, stop beating yourself up.”
Tim frowned.
Kon raised an eyebrow.
“Fine,” Tim said.
“Awesome!” Kon beamed at him, then turned back to the television and the paused game. “Let’s get back to the important stuff, then. This race won’t win itself.”
And... that was it. Just like that, the situation was resolved, somehow. Which felt anticlimactic, after all the stewing Tim had done in the potentially harmful misunderstandings. But. Somehow, it suited Kon just fine, and who was Tim to judge if Kon thought it was over and fine?
