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Tim's numbed fingertips trembled as he looked down at the lights provided by Gotham city.
The sensation and the fear behind his eyes was different from the times he was in suit.
Then, he knew he had the skills and gadgets necessary to prevent any fatal consequences in the event of a fall.
But now, he was helpless, literally.
One more step and he wouldn't be able to break his fall.
One more step and it would be the last time he would be gazing upon Gotham.
One more step and it would be the last time he felt the wind gushing around his body.
Did he want to fall forward or backwards?
If he did fall forwards, he would be seeing everything as he accelerated with dangerous velocity towards the pavement. He would be seeing the seemingly small cars and people grow in sizes, dramatically, in a short amount of time.
He would be met with the immediate results of his actions.
He would be met with the blunt, excruciating force of them against his open arms and unprotected front.
He would be able to feel the numbing sensation of fear and calmness fill out his hollowed out senses.
If he did fall backwards, he would be seeing the tall buildings and blinding lights slowly engulf him. They would wrap rapidly around him as he dropped, giving him one final taste of the city he loved.
He didn't know which seemed more endearing.
Being able to see your own demise, your own downfall and consequences of your actions, or the ability to feel like a part of your favourite place once again before everything came to an end.
Tim doubted he would be stopping himself from counting down the last of his seconds alive.
He knew how quickly he was going to drop from this height. He knew when he was going to taste the hard and dry pavement he was ought to stain soon enough with the crimson liquid, that for not much longer rushed through his veins.
Fuck everyone and everything.
Tim had given up on the idea of anyone caring enough to stop him.
When the depression had caught up to him in every way possible, and Tim had finally settled on a decision, he had taken every action possible to assure a smooth and seamless trip for those who would supposedly suffer.
Tim had fucked up any close relationship and friendship he had developed, just to ensure that no one would suffer with so much pain he did, when he had lost them.
Not only from death.
Tim had lost count of the ones he lost because he was to stupid to keep them from drifting away.
In his mind, messing everything up had been the only way. The only acceptable option.
He didn't have to do that as many times as he had thought.
He just had to act like a douche, enough for them to get annoyed and not question him or try to change his mind.
He still remembered Steph's eyes reddening as the words left his mouth, her confused stare that later turned into rage when the words dawned onto her.
He still remembered Kon's furrowed eyebrows, his attempts to reach out, that were later followed (after many many attempts) by disapproval and annoyance.
He still remembered Cassie's and Bart's expression twisting, changing multiple times as they processed everything.
Tim took in a hitched breath, it shook, trembled.
He sat at the ledge.
Just for a second.
He reassured himself when the thoughts of stalling screamed at him to get this over with.
His fingerbuds dug into the rough surface of the concrete slab creating small dents and punctures.
He crossed his legs at his ankles before he started to swing them forwards and backwards, hitting the brick wall of the building, sending a small jolt through his cold body.
Tim shoved every second thought, every fear deep inside.
He would finally be at peace, he reminded himself.
He would finally have to stop worrying about everything and everyone.
About the way he reacted, about the way he was treated.
He looked down.
Fear didn't engulf him like he thought it would.
He guessed second thoughts didn't work well enough to make him step away from the edge.
He guessed that his nighttime activities that he had grown accustomed to since he was a pre-teen, had desensitized him against the idea of ledges.
He didn't know whether that was sad.
Maybe it was.
It sounded a tad pitying if you asked him.
That was when his ears picked up the sound of a soft breathing pattern.
And the sound came from right behind him.
Tim's feet stopped thumping against the bricks.
The figure didn't speak.
Tim didn't take initiative either.
That's when he heard their breaths come closer.
Not steps, but breaths.
“Kon” Tim stated, as if to mentally check an attendance box he had created in his mind.
The figure didn't answer.
Not immediately at least.
“Where's your suit rob?”
Kon asked, his tone was light-hearted, like he wanted to cross out the worst possible scenario from his mind.
Which was exactly what was happening, unbeknownst to him.
“Cave” Tim responded with a sigh.
“No patrol I'm guessing?”
It took Tim a few seconds to respond that Kon had begun to worry that the latter hadn't heard him.
“No”
“What you doing up here then?” Kon chuckled, trying to sound calm even if his anxiety had begun to skyrocket.
At the lack of response, Kon took in a hitched breath.
Tim turned his head to the side, just to glance at Kon and confirm that the latter wasn't touching the ground, ready at every moment to take a leap of faith.
His hope and egoism far outweighing the fear of the negative outcome.
It couldn't be what Kon was thinking.
It just couldn't.
Tim's heartbeat sounded too calm and collected for it to be what Kon was thinking.
Tim seemed to be at peace with it.
And Tim just couldn't have to come to peace with the terms of his downfall, literally.
“Go away Kon” Tim said as he looked back at the end, where the foundation of the building met with the road.
“Tim”
Kon began.
He didn't even consider it necessary to receive a response for him to continue.
“Step away, please”
Yet, Tim only arose from his seat.
His figure seeming too tall and mighty as he did so.
“Get away from the ledge”
Yet it seemed like Tim had frozen up.
Despite his calm demeanor and breathing, he suddenly wasn't moving.
“Why are you here”
Tim asked, his voice sounded too monotone.
It sounded too mundane.
It wasn't like his leader voice he used during missions or debriefings with the JL, nor was it like his anxious one he used when something went down or when something was terribly wrong.
The voice was too lifeless for it to belong to Tim.
If Kon hadn't heard it with his own ears, he would doubt that it even came from him.
“Tim”
“Why are you here” He repeated, his tone almost taking a nagging turn.
“I- You were acting weird okay? Mean and- and unreasonable-”
Kon’s panic peaked, his filter dropped.
He resorted to the ultimate dictation of the truth of his abilities
Kon’s voice cracked the sound echoing off the rooftop. He drifted an inch higher off the concrete, his hands trembling slightly at his sides.
“Tim, if you step off that ledge, I’m catching you. You know how fast I am. I’m not going to let you fall.”
Tim didn’t flinch. He didn’t even turn around.
Instead, a tiny, ghost of a smile touched the corners of his lips, a private, tragic expression reserved only for the air of Gotham that bustled full of life.
Kon couldn't see it from behind, but he could hear the sudden, subtle shift in Tim’s breathing. It wasn't the breath of someone afraid.
It was the breath of someone who had already done the math.
Kon was hovering, ready to catch him at a millisecond's notice, completely on edge.
“I know you’re fast, Kon,” Tim said, his voice terrifyingly gentle.
“But you’re forgetting the physics”
Kon froze in mid-air. “What?”
Kon couldn’t comprehend how the latter was still thinking about physics right now.
“Terminal velocity for a human body is about 120 miles per hour. From this height, I'll hit that speed in less than six seconds” Tim explained, his tone conversational, as if he were debriefing a routine mission at the Titans Tower.
“If I jump, and you fly down, using supersonic speed to grab me, the sudden deceleration will break my spine. Your tactile telekinesis and invulnerability can protect your own body from the aftereffects, but it won’t stop my head from the whiplash and my internal organs from slamming into my ribcage at Mach 1”
Tim finally glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes hollow.
“You’d catch a corpse, Kon. Or worse. And we both know you couldn't live with that.”
Tim's words sounded like a threat, and perhaps it was one.
The unavoidable thoughts that Kon could and would push his body to it’s limits for Tim's sake. He would rush off to save Tim before his feet even managed to leave the concrete slab.
But the gut-wrenching feeling of doubt had him worrying that he wouldn’t be fast enough.
He could be too fast, and he could be too slow.
Was there a chance he could save Tim if the moment called for it?
Even if he managed to catch the vigilante, would Tim fight Kon until he slipped from his hold?
How far did Tim’s desperation reach?
How far would he go to achieve it?
Did Kon’s presence even remotely change the equation?
The variables? The outcome?
Had Tim decided on succeeding so definitely, could he even be saved? Not only now.
Could he be safe in the future? From other people, from his own thoughts that betrayed his conscious? The very own body they resided in?
Kon had spent years standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Tim, watching him deliver cold, calculated threats to some of the most dangerous people in the world.
He had always been on the same side of those threats. He could never have imagined that hearing one directed at him would feel so utterly harrowing and dreadful?
The cold math of it paralyzed him. Kon’s boots finally touched the concrete roof, his knees buckling slightly under the weight of an unquantifiable panic.
“Can you please just talk to me?” Kon begged his voice dropping to a fragile whisper.
“I—I know I can't change your mind. I get it. And I won't… and- Tim, I won't be able to live knowing that you died and I never even knew the reason why”
Tim's silence made Kon feel like the blood was being drained from his body, like the floor under his feet had caved and he couldn't stop it.
Kon controlled his laboured breathing, still deeply concerned over the fact that Tim had kept the calm facade for so long whilst Kon was barely stopping himself from a vicious heart attack.
The fact that Tim isn’t panicking is what terrified Kon the most.
Kon refused to let his mind realize that a calm heartbeat meant a resolved mind and an unchangeable plan.
Tim's expression remained unchanged.
His head was turned to the side, yet his eyes were gazing upon something stray, a rat that ran opposite to where Tim was, heartlessly reminding him how life would continue to go on, despite how he proceeded.
“Tim? Please?” Kon practically pled, his voice barely contained its shaking/tremor.
“Kon”
Tim called, yet he didn't even look at the man he was referring to.
“You can't understand just how fucking tired I am of burying everyone close to me- of being thought of as the outsider, the replacement wherever I go! To never be defended and to never ask for help because I'm goddamn autonomous, the smart one”
Kon clenched his jaw. The silence stretched tight between them.
“I spent weeks! I had a plan for goodness sakes! Acting like an unreasonable prick just so that you and everyone else that remained, would just walk away and never find the need to look back”
Kon could feel his breaths lose their rhythm and his eyes fill with tears.
Before he could say something, anything, Tim continued.
“Because if I was hated- When I was finally gone, you'd just think 'Good riddance, he was an asshole anyway.' The plan was that, my death would hurt significally less than I wanted it to”
He finally closed his eyes, his voice cracking for the very first time.
“You were supposed to let. me. go, Kon. Why- why couldn't you just let me go?”
A choked breath made Tim pause before he clenched his fingers until his knuckles whitened.
He was desperately trying to physically and violently force the composure back into his body.
Tim had to practically tear his gaze away just so that he could avoid looking at Kon.
A hitched, suffocating sob finally broke through his throat, ruining his perfect, calculated composure.
“You’re ruining it. If you stay there, if you make me look at you, I’m going to remember what it feels like to want to stay.” Tim wept, the anger and exhaustion spilling out all at once.
“And I can’t do that anymore. Please. Just let me have this”
It felt awfully wrong to say this to a crying person, Kon out of all people.
But Tim was mad and goddamned tired.
“Tim I-... I'm sorry that our deaths made you hurt so much, I really am. I don't think that there's anything to say that would make you feel better or change your mind. But you have to know just how much you mean to me. You say that everyone thinks that you're an outsider or a replacement- I get that things are messed up between you and the Bats, but these thoughts-beliefs, you think everyone shares, don't stretch beyond them. No one, and I mean no one in the Titans has ever thought of you as any of those things”
“Kon-”
“And since we're aying everything out- I never thought of you as the untouchable, autonomous and smart one- I always leave an ear out to hear your heartbeat, just to make sure everything's okay, that you're not hurt or- or in danger. I never saw you as invincible or as- as vulnerable, but somewhere in between. Just you."
Tim stayed silent but Kon could clearly pick up the sound of teeth gritting with such strength and fury that he was beginning to worry that his teeth would shatter under the pressure.
Yet he continued.
"I didn't want to initiate help unless it was needed, because i wanted to avoid an earful about boundar-” Kon anxiously chuckled at the last part.
For a second, the air on the rooftop went entirely still. Then, Tim spun around.
He didn't step away from the ledge, just turned on it, his eyes flashing with a sudden, vicious rage that caught Kon completely off guard.
Kon had to practically stop himself from rushing to grab Tim, as he saw the latter fucking spin on the elevated ledge of a skyscraper.
Kon's love was slowly and steadily ruining Tim's ability to jump.
He was desperately seeing Kon as the villain for caring too much.
"Don't do that!" Tim screamed, his voice raw, tearing through the quiet Gotham night. "Don't you dare do that to me, Kon! That is invasive! It's creepy, and it's unfair!"
His hand was set against his own chest, right over his heart, his chest heaving. Tim fingers grasped the thin cloth wrinkling it almost immediately.
"You're not supposed to be listening! I am allowed to have a boundary! How am I supposed to—" He choked on his own breath, his face contorting in pure agony.
"How am I supposed to leave if I know you're listening to it stop?!”
Tim heaved, his heart beating so erratically that it hurt it burned, it fumed with rage, anxiety, worry, doubt.
Anger burned hot, but depression made a person incredibly tired.
Tim couldn't find the strength necessary to maintain the rage. The physical energy required to stay angry just evaporated, leaving him entirely exposed.
The anger flared bright, hot, and desperate, then, just as quickly as it came, it died.
Tim’s shoulders collapsed. The rigid, defensive posture he had maintained all night completely vanished. He looked suddenly fragile, smaller somehow, like the wind could knock him off the building without any effort at all.
Like the weather itself would conspire with his dark, unyielding (or were they?) desires.
His hand slid down from his chest, his fingers dropping limply to his side. The rage in his eyes dissolved into a profound, suffocating emptiness.
"You're an idiot" Tim whispered. The fire was completely gone from his voice, replaced by a devastating, quiet defeat. "You're a total idiot, Kent.”
Tim's voice sounded like it was out of breath.
Like this whole conversation had taken a toll out of him.
It had exhausted him far more than he ever anticipated.
He took a single, agonizingly slow step forward. His foot left the cold, narrow concrete of the ledge and found the rough, stable gravel of the roof floor. Then he took another.
He was off the edge. He was on the roof.
Tim tried to draw in a breath to steady himself, to maintain some final, broken shred of the pride he had used as armor for weeks.
But the air caught in his chest. Something hot and suffocating crept up his throat. A sob, completely unbidden, jagged and utterly broken.
His knees didn't just buckle, they simply failed him. The remaining strength in his legs vanished, and he practically collapsed toward the cement floor of the rooftop.
He didn't even hit the gravel.
Even though there was no ledge beneath them anymore, even though the immediate danger of a vertical drop down more than 460 feet had passed, Kon didn't hesitate. He caught Tim before he could hit the ground, his arms wrapping around the detective's trembling shoulders with a fierce, protective urgency.
Kon sank down with him, bringing them both to the rough roof floor.
He didn't say I told you so. He didn't ask for explanations.
He just held on.
His own tears spilling silently into Tim’s hair, anchoring his friend to the earth while Tim finally, completely let go