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Tim was chewing on his lip, adjusting his clothes again. What if he didn't look the part, what of they shot him down as he stepped on the stage, what if he failed, what if he lost his family for doing this, what of no one followed him because he was so young, what if what if what if what if...
A hand fell gently on his shoulder, startling him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked up at his uncle and tried to give him a confident smile. Uncle Carmine grimaced back at him in what he supposed was an approximation of his own nerve wracked expression, "We both know we hoped it would never come to this, but we also both know you will rule this city like it deserves. This may not be how he would have done it, but he would be a God damn fool not to be proud of you tonight, Stray. Bruce was many things, but he was never a fool." Carmine swallowed hard and looked away. Tim knew he had always hoped his father would be standing here beside him someday. Then, as he gave Tim's shoulder a squeeze, so quietly he barely heard it, his uncle whispered, "I'm so fuckin' proud of you, Stray..."
The door clicked open behind them and Tim turned to see Clark floating towards him, a softly sad smile on his face. Tim wondered when he had stopped bothering to hide that he was Superman.
Clark held his arms open, waiting for Tim to step into them so he could wrap himself around him. He buried his face in Tim's neck, breathing in his scent like he was about to lose him too. "I'm proud of you too, sweetheart." He whispered into his neck and Tim suppressed a sob, clutching at Clark's back.
Tim stepped away from his papa, adjusted his tie one more time, and squared his shoulders. He was as ready as he would ever be. He stepped out the doors, flanked by his uncle, to greet the blinding flashes of the paparazzo with his best business smile.