Chapter Text
Bart moved like a streak of energy through the halls of the Young Justice Tower, a blur of red and gold ricocheting off polished floors and glass walls. The building hummed around him — quiet conversations in distant rooms, the steady pulse of machinery, the soft mechanical breathing of a space designed for heroes who rarely slowed down.
But Bart did.
Well…sort of.
Running wasn’t just movement anymore; it was relief. Freedom. Every step felt like proof that the future couldn’t cage him anymore. No suppressor. No collar biting into his neck, reminding him that speed was something dangerous, something to be controlled. Here, he could feel the Speed Force buzzing under his skin like laughter he couldn’t quite contain. Sometimes he ran just because he could. Sometimes he ran because standing still felt wrong.
Today was one of those days.
He looped the tower twice before cutting sharply into the kitchen, skidding to a stop in front of the cabinets. The world settled into normal speed around him — duller, slower, almost sleepy compared to the rush in his veins. He grabbed a handful of high-calorie granola bars, the kind specifically engineered for speedsters and their ridiculous metabolism, and started tearing one open without really paying attention to anything around him.
Routine. Easy. Safe.
Then something shifted.
The air felt…heavy.
Not physically, not like an alarm or incoming danger. More like stepping into a room where a conversation had paused a second too late. A tension that didn’t belong in an empty kitchen.
Bart frowned, glancing up.
And the world stopped.
Not literally — he was the one slowing down this time, each second stretching like taffy as his brain tried to process what it was seeing.
Tim Drake. Konner Kent.
Very much not having a normal conversation.
Tim’s hand was hooked loosely in Konner’s shirt, and Konner’s fingers were curled along Tim’s jaw like he’d done it a thousand times. Their mouths were together, messy and unguarded, like they’d forgotten the rest of the universe existed.
Bart froze so hard his half-unwrapped granola bar slipped from his hand.
A speedster feeling stuck. There was irony there somewhere, but his brain wasn’t operating well enough to appreciate it.
Heat crawled up his neck. His stomach dropped like he’d missed a step at superspeed.
And before he could even think — before logic or emotion caught up — instinct took over.
He ran.
---
Wind screamed past him as the world blurred into endless color. Oceans flashed beneath him, continents collapsing into streaks of green and gray. He didn’t pick a direction so much as away.
When he finally stopped, it was on a cliff somewhere in Europe, waves smashing against rock far below. The air was cold, sharp, real. It forced him to breathe.
He bent forward, hands on his knees, even though he wasn’t physically tired. Speedsters didn’t run out of breath easily. This was something else.
His thoughts spiraled faster than his feet ever could.
Why did he run?
He replayed the moment in his head — Tim’s surprised expression, Konner’s startled shift — and guilt hit him immediately. Great. Fantastic. Way to make things weird, Allen.
He groaned, kicking a pebble off the cliffside and watching it tumble away.
Was he…upset because they were both guys?
No. That felt wrong the instant it crossed his mind. He’d never cared about that. In the future, survival didn’t leave room for judging who loved who. The apocalypse had a way of flattening priorities. Love was rare, fragile — and usually a weakness enemies exploited.
Maybe that was it.
Maybe he just didn’t understand it.
Love, relationships, whatever complicated emotional puzzle Tim and Konner had apparently solved without telling him — it wasn’t something Bart thought about much. In his timeline, attachments were dangerous. Temporary. You learned early that people disappeared.
Still…that didn’t explain the twisting, uncomfortable feeling in his chest when he saw them together.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t disgust.
It felt more like… being left out of something important he hadn’t realized existed.
He stared out at the ocean, wind tugging at his hair.
Or maybe it was something messier than that. Something he didn’t have words for yet.
Bart hated not understanding his own brain.
Eventually, the guilt won out. Running away solved nothing — unless the problem was literal, and this definitely wasn’t.
He needed to apologize.
Preferably before Tim analyzed him into oblivion.
---
When Bart returned to the tower, he slowed down deliberately before entering the kitchen. No dramatic entrances. No lightning. Just normal.
Tim and Konner were still there, standing close but no longer touching. Their heads were bent together in quiet conversation, both wearing that tense, guarded look people got when they were pretending not to worry.
Bart’s stomach twisted.
“Hey guys!” he announced, forcing brightness into his voice. His hands felt strangely clammy. Weird. Speedsters weren’t supposed to do clammy.
Both of them turned sharply.
Bart rubbed the back of his neck, words spilling out faster than he could edit them. “Sorry about earlier. Didn’t mean to interrupt your…uh…session? That sounded weird. You know what I mean. I kinda overreacted. Sorry.”
He caught the exact moment their shoulders relaxed — tiny shifts most people would miss. Speedster perks.
Konner exhaled first, giving a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Bart. Didn’t mean to— y’know — surprise you. Hope you’re not traumatized or anything.”
Bart laughed too quickly. “Nah! You’re good. Seriously. I was just shocked. I mean — my two best friends are dating and nobody told me? Rude. I thought we had trust here.”
He tried to sound teasing, light, normal. He was good at that. Jokes were easier than honesty.
Konner chuckled, but Tim stayed quiet.
And that was worse.
Tim’s eyes were locked on him — sharp, observant, dissecting. The human lie detector in skinny jeans. Bart suddenly felt exposed, like Tim could see every scrambled thought spinning behind his smile.
“Tim?” Bart asked, and hated how small his voice sounded.
Tim blinked, pulling himself out of whatever mental detective board he’d built in his head. His expression softened. “Don’t worry about it, Bart,” he said finally. “We were gonna tell you soon. Just…maybe don’t mention it to my siblings yet.”
Relief loosened something tight in Bart’s chest.
He grinned, more genuine this time. “Please. You think I wanna be responsible for Konner getting interrogated by the Bat-family? I like him too much to do that on purpose.”
Konner laughed, and even Tim’s mouth twitched into a smile.
The tension eased.
But Bart still felt something lingering beneath it — a quiet ache he couldn’t quite name. He shoved it down, burying it under humor and motion like he always did.
Later, he told himself. He’d figure it out later.
For now, his friends were smiling again, and the world was moving at the right speed.
And if his heart still felt a little off-beat, well…maybe that was just what happened when you stopped running long enough to notice it.