Chapter Text
Life sucks. This is a truth Tim has lived with for his entire existence.
The worst year of his life, losing nearly everyone he loves, losing Robin. Tim survived it. By the skin of his teeth, but still.
Everyone is back now, except his biological parents. Jack and Janet stayed dead. They didn’t bother to spend time with Tim when they were alive, why would they fight to get back to him now? Tim should have tempered his expectations.
It feels like that is all Tim does. He tempers his expectations. Knows better than to get his hopes up. Knows better than to wait around for an apology or for a ‘thank you.’
Still, a part of Tim wants them to notice. He wants them to care. But everyone is too busy.
Bruce is taking back over Wayne Enterprises, encouraging Tim to take a back seat. Dick is reestablishing himself in Bludhaven, relearning how to be a brother instead of a father to Damian. Jason’s Red Hood empire is as stable as ever, and he’s finally figured things out with Roy. Steph and Cass are doing their thing in Gotham, connecting more with Oracle everyday. Barbara has things in control. Her cyber skills are second to none. Duke has settled into the manor, finally feeling like he has a place in the family. Damian is calming down, learning that he doesn’t have to live in survival mode anymore. Alfred never needed Tim in the first place.
Tim’s work is done here. He isn’t needed. What's the point of sticking around? The only person in Gotham who might miss him is Tam.
So, slowly, to keep it off everyone’s radar, Tim begins to plan. He scales back his responsibilities, putting policies and procedures in place for when someone else inevitably replaces him. He smiles and nods and goes to galas like the good businessman he is. His friends are in college. Tim is stuck with MBAs jostling to replace him in the boardroom.
His stomach curdles at the thought of someone replacing him. Someone else taking up the mantle of Red Robin. Which is hypocritical of him. He stole Red Robin from Jason too, after all. Maybe it's the old Robin wound popping up again. It seems like that hurt might never die.
Tim pushes his feelings down and keeps typing. A knock on the window pulls him away from his thoughts. It’s Kon. Because of course he’s here.
Kon has a troubling knack of knowing whenever Tim is in a particularly dark mood. He shows up. They hang out. Tim’s mood improves. Whatever he was planning on doing goes out the window.
Tim gets up and disarms the security system. Kon lets himself inside, closing the window behind himself. “Hey, T.” He greets, floating over to kick off his boots by the door. “I had some free time and thought I’d stop by.”
Tim bites back a scoff. He just so happens to have free time. Between classes and hero work, farm chores and his social life, Kon happens to have time. And he chooses to spend it with a mopey pathetic Tim. What a waste.
“Afraid I won’t be good company tonight, Kon.” Tim murmurs. He sounds whiny and terrible to his own ears. Kon shakes his head lightly, the smell of his conditioner and ozone waft over. Then Kon, the nosy bastard, picks up Tim’s laptop. Fear grips him. Nononononono Kon cannot see Tim's plan.
Tim launches himself at Kon, desperately to get it back before he can read it. Adrenaline courses through his veins. Kon catches him easily with his TTK, unbothered by Tim’s screeching. He holds Tim in the air, laptop just out of reach.
“Give it back!” Tim demands, screaming. Let his neighbors file a noise complaint. Kon’s eyes scan the screen. It scrolls under the direction of some invisible force. Kon reads everything.
“Tim.” Kon breathes out, crushed. “Tim.” The hurt in his voice is heartbreaking. The look on his face is even worse.
“It’s none of your business.” Tim insists, still reaching for his laptop.
“None of my business?” Kon roars, eyes glowing red. He takes several deep breaths, still holding Tim in the air in the same leaping position he’s been in.
“My best friend -” Kon grits out. “My best friend wants to kill himself and that’s none of my goddamn business?”
Tim gapes like a fish. He really doesn’t have much of an answer. At least, not one that Kon will like. His mind whirs, scrambling to try to make this better. To hurt Kon less.
“I knew things were bad.” Kon admits, sounding devastated. “But I had no idea it was this bad.”
“I’m fine.” Tim insists. Then, a truly horrendous idea comes to him. He shouldn’t go along with it. He hasn’t thought it out thoroughly. But his mouth moves faster than his brain and he says it anyway. “It’s fake.”
“Fake?” Kon questions, surprised. He lowers Tim back onto the couch. “Whattaya mean fake?”
“I’m going to fake my death.” Tim doubles down. He is terrible at bluffing out of costume, but somehow, Kon doesn’t notice. Maybe he does but he just doesn’t want to believe the alternative. “I want out. I just figured this was the easiest way.”
Kon huffs, back to confused and angry. He sets the laptop down and Tim scrambles to shut it and hold it close to his chest. “Were you ever planning to tell me?” Kon asks quietly.
The tension in the room is palpable. Tim can’t stop himself before he answers.
“Yes.” He lies. “I wanted you to come with me.”
Kon looks like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. His brows furrow and Tim can practically see the gears in his head turning. He takes a deep breath before he continues.
“You want me…” Kon asks softly, sounding pained. “To fake my death and run away with you?”
Tim jolts. He knows Kon could never do that to the Kents again. He never meant to leave them the first time.
“No.” Tim corrects, out of instinct. “I was gonna fake my death. Then you could come join me when I set up shop. Fight crime wherever and live life with me.”
Shit. Now Tim needs to set up a secret life elsewhere. He’s always thought about running away to Canada. But Superboy suddenly working out of Canada would draw too much attention. The Bats would definitely come investigate that and waste time and resources on him. Maybe somewhere close, then. In the Midwest. Close to the Kents. Close enough to swing by Metropolis to see Clark, Lois, and Jon.
“Move with me to Michigan.” Tim sputters out, “I haven’t gotten a place yet but you’ll be close enough to help out in Kansas and Metropolis. You can use the grief around my ‘death’ as an excuse to start up somewhere new.”
Kon nods slowly, taking Tim’s plan in. But then, he asks a damning question.
“What do we tell Bart and Cassie?” He asks. Tim’s stomach drops. Lying to one of them at a time is one thing. But setting up a whole secret life, getting his friends involved, and not following through? Oh Cassie would drag his ass back from the Underworld herself for that. No Orpheus and Eurydice copout for Tim.
“We can tell the team.” Tim concedes to Kon’s pleading look. The guilt of lying to them, letting them believe Tim was dead if he wasn’t, wouldn’t be fair to Kon. "But they can't tell anyone else."
Kon grins. “I know you bats are unconventional, but this has got to be the weirdest way to retire.” He teases, slinging an arm over Tim’s shoulders. TTK envelopes him gently, a pleasant amount of pleasure soaking into his bones.
“Soon I won’t be a bat.” Tim says softly. “I’ll be Alvin Draper, regular midwesterner.”
Kon chuckles. The sound rumbles nicely where Tim is pressed against Kon’s side.
“You’ll be a michigander.” Kon says, his nose wrinkling. “I guess, so will I.”
Tim’s chest warms. When he offered for Kon to come with him, he hadn’t expected Kon to agree so readily. So willingly. He didn’t even need to explain all that much.
“So,” Kon says softly, pulling Tim closer. “I still have a free evening. Wanna plan our future in Michigan?”
Tim’s cheeks warm. ‘Our future’ rings in his ears. It sounds good when Kon says it. It sounds real. It sounds hopeful.
“Yeah, okay.” Tim agrees, opening up his laptop and opening a new spreadsheet. “Let’s talk logistics.”
They spend the rest of the night deciding what kind of place they want. A house, at least three bedrooms, a basement, and a fireplace. A garage or barn for Tim to have a workbench and a car. Kon wants a yard and space to plant a garden. Tim even considers getting a pet.
Somehow, his mindset has turned around completely. Kon has completely erased the possibility of Tim following through on his original plan. Normally, when Tim’s plan comes undone like this, he’s angry. But Tim can’t find a speck of anger right now. Not when Kon is here. So warm, so comforting, so hopeful. He seems actually excited that Tim is considering ‘retiring’.
Somehow, Tim’s plan of disappearing has become retiring. Seemingly without his permission, Kon shifted everything in Tim’s brain without even breaking a sweat. There’s no manipulation, no mal-intent. He isn’t Ra’s trying to recruit him. Kon is just… being Kon. It's enough to remind Tim that he has things to live for. Primarily, his friends. People outside of Gotham who love him.
Tim’s heart swells when Kon gives him an excited kiss on the cheek goodbye at the end of the night. He brings a trembling hand up to his face, trying to confirm that it really happened. Kon waves from outside after he closes the window behind himself. Tim waves back.
Kon flies off and Tim expects the joy to go out of the room. His apartment is exactly as boring and depressing as it was before Kon showed up. But Tim sees it with new eyes. His former teammates are coming by next week to pack everything up. Get the place ready for his retirement.
Tim flops back down on the couch, staring at his laptop idly. He reaches over, making a few changes to his plan. He told Kon that he was going to fake his death. Tim is nothing if not a man of his word. He alters a contingency here, a policy there. It doesn’t take much. They still won’t find his body. Now, there just won’t be a body to find.
When he finishes, Tim sets his laptop down on the table in front of him. The warmth from Kon is still lingering, both on the couch and in Tim’s chest. Laying down, nuzzling his face into the cushion that smells like Kon, Tim closes his eyes. For the first time in years, sleep finds him quickly.