Chapter Text
A small ray of sunlight breaks its way through the blackout curtains in Tim’s room. The light burns through his eyelids and he groans, turning to shove his face into the warm neck of the body beside him. A faint chuckle reaches his ear and the arms around him tighten, pushing him even further into the lightly freckled skin. He sighs with content, brow unfurrowing as a hand slowly starts to trace circles into his back.
“Too early?” Kon’s voice breaks through the comfortable silence. Tim can only grumble in response, the sound muffled by him pushing impossibly further into the other boy's neck. He chuckles again, bringing his hand up to stroke the back of Tim’s head, smoothing down the mess of dark hair.
“Five more minutes then”.
Eventually, the two get up. He could spend all day wrapped in the warmth of Kon’s hold, Tim thinks to himself. They’ve made their way to the bathroom, starting their ‘morning’ routine even though it’s early afternoon, it’s always the same. They appreciate the normality of it. The other boy emerges from the shower, towel hung loosely around his waist and comes up behind him placing soft kisses on his neck, hands trailing up and down his waist. Tim leans down, spitting the toothpaste into the sink and turns around to wrap his arms around Kon’s neck bringing him down into a soft kiss.
“Minty”
“No shit, Sherlock” Tim quips back, smiling as he rolls his eyes. This is one of the many benefits of Titans Tower; they can spend as much time together as they please, forming routines together such as this one. The two make their way back into Kon’s room to continue getting ready.
“What’s the plan for today?” Kon asks, pulling on a shirt.
“I have to go to the manor, B needs help on a case”
“Hm, how long till you have to go?” Tim checks his watch, “just over an hour” Kon smirks and makes his way over to him, pulling him into a kiss by the belt loops of his jeans. He pulls away, strokes the tanned skin over his cheekbone and looks up into those deep blue eyes he knows so well.
“Are you trying to make moves on me superboy?” Tim drawls sarcastically
“So what if i was”
“I’d say you’re doing a good job” with that Kon leans in for another kiss, picking the other up in the process forcing a laugh from him.
The blaring of Tim’s alarm pulls him from the sweet memory, and he slams his hand onto his bedside table searching for the offending object without opening his eyes. Grabbing his phone he squints and presses the ‘stop’ button then chucks it into the abyss of his room. He groans, pushing his face into his pillow trying to find sleep once more. After another 15 minutes of throwing himself around the bed trying to find a comfortable position, he gives in, cursing his damn alarm. He pushes himself up against the headboard, still too exhausted to get up, his eyes trail around his room looking to see where he’s thrown his phone and stops abruptly on a pile of clothes on the floor. A plain black suit with a crumpled order of service poking out the pocket.
Oh.
Kon’s funeral. It had passed weeks ago in Smallville; it was a small event, only close friends and family. The day comes crashing back into Tim’s mind, lowering the coffin into the rain-soaked ground of Kent farm, Cassie gripping onto his arm with brutal force and Clark’s face. Clark, who is usually the one you can look to for any sort of hope, completely shattered. Kon’s picture stares back at him and he squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more guilty in his life. The funeral was the first time he had gotten out of bed in weeks and he was so numb that he spent the whole event in silence. He’s still too ashamed to leave his room. B’s tried his hardest to get Tim to be around people, claiming it will help him navigate his grief but he knows it won’t. No one will understand the feeling of cradling their best friend, the love of their life, in their arms as he dies. The feeling of their breathing stopping. He shakes his head at the thought as if to expel it.
He pushes himself off the bed and moves through the mess of his bedroom floor to get to his bathroom. Flicking on the light he looks into the mirror and sighs. His hair is greasy and matted and the bags under his eyes are huge even though he’s been spending more time in bed than ever. He decides he needs to start pushing himself, he showers, combing through the mess on his head with shampoo, focusing on untangling the mats rather than letting his mind wander. He gets dressed and begins the search for his phone again, finding it next to the funeral suit. Tim glares at the order of service again, he picks it up looking at the picture printed on it and tears his eyes away. He crumples the thin paper in his hand before launching it into the bin beside his desk. No more reminders he thinks to himself, they’re only holding him back.
Tim’s determined now to get his life back together. He can’t keep wallowing in self-pity alone in his room. No. He has a job to do, which he’s been neglecting ever since it happened. Bruce said he could handle Gotham alone; he knows that’s a lie. The boy makes his way down the stairs, turning into the hallway that leads to Bruce’s office before bursting through the door,
“I’m coming on patrol tonight.”
Gotham’s harsh air thrashes against his face. He’s missed it. Being Robin makes him feel useful, in control, it gives him a sense of purpose. The job is simple tonight; there’s no active threats, it’s just a regular patrol. They’re perched on a rooftop looking out onto the city beneath them.
“I’m glad you came out tonight” Batman says, keeping his eyes fixed on the streets below. His voice is gruff, his tone is slightly awkward as if he doesn’t know what to say.
“Yeah, me too” Silence takes over again, the wind whips around them, burning Tim’s cheeks. They continue to move to different lookout points. The crackle of the comm breaks the quiet.
“Batman, Robin, come in. Robbery reported near the west side”
“On our way, thank you Oracle”
The two make their way quickly to the scene, a man is shoving bags into the back of a van while two others guard, guns pointed. Batman covers the gunmen while Robin takes on the masked man with the bags. It’s relatively easy; the guy isn’t expecting him, he throws a forceful blow to the back of his head, knocking it onto the floor of the van. There's a sound of glass shattering. The man grunts as his knees fold, then turns around, throwing a misguided punch. They scuffle for a minute until Tim manages to get him on the ground with his hands tied behind his back. He rises slowly dusting his hands, then stops abruptly as a familiar voice fills his ears:
“Turn around, Tim”
Kon. Kon’s voice is ringing in his ears. It throws him off as he whips around to see a man pointing a revolver directly in his face. He ducks, tackling the man to the ground. A shot rings out.
“How did you do it!” Tim grabs the man by the collar of his shirt, shaking him. He looks confused, staring at Robin through his mask bewildered.
“Answer me!” He spits
“What the hell are you talking about, kid”
“The voice! How do you know his voice?”
“You’ve gotta be on something” The gunman breathes
There’s a click of a gun being cocked, he freezes as the voice comes again
“You need to move, Tim”
He’s almost too slow as he pushes off the man and rolls to the side, the bullet hits the metal of the van in front with a clang. His heart is beating out his chest and his head is spinning. What the fuck is happening? Is he going crazy? Batman swoops in and wrestles the gun out the man's hand, kicking him back to the ground before tying him up as well.
“Robin, you need to focus!”
He just stares at him, oh my god he must be going insane.