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“What if people had died, Bart? We talked about this, it worked out this time, but what happens when it doesn't?" Tim's voice is sharp, a tone Bart hears more and more as of late. “But no one died! No one's hurt, why does it matter? If it works, why does it matter how I do it? I'm doing my job. You didn't see what I saw, if I didn't do what I did that little girl would've died!” Bart doesn't mean to yell back, but it's hard to keep himself level headed when he's being yelled at.
Yelled at for messing up a plan to save a child by someone who was supposed to understand him and was supposed to be reasonable.
“We had a plan! We had a plan and you fucked it up because you can't wait. You don't think about the effect your actions have on others. We would save the girl, you should have just stuck to the plan. I thought you had gotten past this Bart. But you're still as reckless as you were when we were kids.”
Bart feels hot tears sting his eyes, but he doesn't let them fall. “No, you just still think of me like that. You should be able to trust my judgement, Tim, I know what I'm doing. I know that girl would've been killed if I didn't intervene when I did. I don't care if I blew our cover, you got the information we needed and that girl is alive. You don't trust me.”
“You're right I don't trust you. Because you're impulsive and selfish and you don't think about your actions. Come find me when you're done being stupid.”
And Bart can only watch as Tim turns on his heel and walks out of Bart's room, the door slamming behind him.
I don't trust you. You're still reckless. Selfish. Stupid.
Bart stumbles back, falling onto the edge of his bed with a thump before he slides to the floor.
The tears didn't fall before. But they do now. A hot, steady stream down his cheeks. Tim really thinks he's incompetent. He doesn't trust Bart. He doesn't trust Bart to do the job he's had since they were young teens. They were 18 and 19 and Tim still didn't trust him. Didn't believe in him.
He had spent hours in bed with Bart late at night, carding his hands through his hair and telling him he was a good hero. That he was loved and trusted and capable. But Tim still didn't trust him.
**
Tim slams the door harder than he means too, stalking down the hall and to his own room.
Why couldn't Bart just follow instructions? They had been doing this for how long and he still couldn't comprehend ‘wait for your signal’. The girl would have been fine. There's no way her own father would have really hurt her just to get what he wanted, right? Bart was just overreacting, right?
…right?
**
Bart stays on his floor for a long time. Long after his tears dry up and his hands stop shaking and his heart stops racing.
How could Tim say that? I don't trust you. After how many years and live or death situations. After Bart literally died and came back. And Tim could still say he didn't trust Bart.
The same boy who had held him while he broke down over his childhood, over his mom and Max and Wally and everything that had ever happened to him could still say he didn't trust Bart. What was wrong with him?
Why couldn't Bart just get it right? Why is he like this?
Bart gets to his feet, scrubbing his hands over his face as he heads to his door. He really hopes Tim is nowhere to be found because he needs to eat something before he crashes.
He shuffles to the kitchen, swinging open the pantry door to find a snack. His head hurts from crying and his eyes are heavy and his heart aches. But he needs to eat.
He doesn't notice as footsteps approach him, and he nearly yelps when he hears his name. For a heart-dropping moment he thinks it's Tim until he focuses again and turns to see Kon standing there.
“You okay, Imp? I heard yelling and Cassie told me your mission didn't go well.” Kon's voice is soft and calming in the tone he uses when he's trying to help but doesn't really know what to do. “I'm fine. And the mission was a success; it just didn't go according to plan.” It's not fair for Bart to be short with Kon, but he doesn't have it in him to be nice. His chest hurts. His heart aches.
I don't trust you.
“Right, sorry, not according to plan.” Kon nods, “hey, you want something to eat? I can make you something.” Bart shrugs, “If you want too. I was just gonna raid the pantry.” Kon gives him a small smile and goes to pull stuff out of the fridge.
Bart moves away, to the other side of the kitchen island and out of Kon's way. He watches absently as Kon washes rice and cuts vegetables. He doesn't notice when Kon starts to speak again, until he says Bart's name.
“Huh, what? Sorry.”
“I asked what you and Tim were fighting about.”
“Oh.” Bart shrugs again, staring down at his hands. “I didn't listen to the plan. Tim thinks I overreacted and messed things up.” Kon nods, glancing over his shoulder, “did you?”
Bart bites his lip. That's a great question. “I don't think so. Maybe I did. Maybe Tim's right.” He feels that suffocating feeling rising in his chest again, an uncomfortable mix of anger and self-hatred. Maybe Tim was just being a dick or maybe Tim was exactly right. Bart wasn't sure.
“What happened?” Kon presses, and Bart is pulled from his own thoughts again, “during the mission?” Bart pauses, “we were tracking this guy who was selling drugs. He had his daughter with him during a drug deal and the guy he was selling to upset him. I watched him threaten to shoot his own daughter right there in the head. I watched him lift the gun. She looked terrified.” He's going to start crying again. “I couldn't stand there and do nothing while he pointed a gun at his little daughter. I intervened. I blew our cover, and Tim is angry with me. More than angry.”
Bart has to swallow a lump in his throat, and his words come out small, “I think he hates me.” Kon whips around at that, mouth agape, “hates you? Bart he doesn't hate you. He's been in love with you for years, you've talked about getting married. He doesn't hate you. What would make you say that?”
I don't trust you. Reckless. Impulsive. Selfish. Stupid.
Bart can't get the words out. He can hardly breath at all actually. His head hurts. His heart hurts. His legs are going to give out under him. “Bart, hey, c'mon.” Kon is right in front of him, hands hovering beside Bart's arms, “you're okay, it's okay, breath. He doesn't hate you.”
Bart takes a half step back, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he sobs.
**
There was a security camera in Bart's corner of the warehouse. Tim hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. What had Bart actually seen? Had that man really threatened his own daughter? Should he have believed Bart?
What kind of question is that? What is wrong with him? Of course he should have believed Bart. He doesn't even need to look at the cameras to know Bart was telling the truth. How could Tim have possibly doubted him?
Oh.
Oh no.
He had told Bart he didn't trust him. Called him reckless. And all because he just hadn't followed a plan. Tim had said every single thing Bart dreaded being perceived as and for why? Because Tim couldn't handle not being listened to and being in control? What is wrong with him?
What does he do to fix this? How can he take it back?
Tim shoots up from his chair, beelining for Bart room. And it's empty. Door wide open and no Bart in sight. He could be anywhere right now.
Tim goes further down the hall towards the kitchen. And just before he can see into the kitchen, he hears it. Gut wrenching sobs. Hyperventilating at a speed that shouldn't be possible. He knows it's Bart immediately. He's heard those cries from him before.
He's never been the one to cause them.
When he finally finds the courage to step into the kitchen he sees Bart on the floor, head in his hands as his body rattles with cries. Kon is knelt in front of him, desperately trying to calm him down.
He should turn and go back to his room. How can he face Bart after saying he doesn't trust him.
How can he ignore Bart breaking down?
**
Bart can't get the words out to explain what's wrong. He can't get any words out at all. He can't breathe. Kon is trying to help, kneeling in front of him, large, gentle hands on his shoulders and he tries to coax Bart back to sensibility.
“Bart,” His head whips up, nearly hitting the island behind him. Tim is steady just behind Kon, his hands clenched at his sides.
“I'm sorry- I'm- I- please,” Bart chokes on his words, moving to try and reach for Tim. Kon scoots out of the way, but stays close, watching carefully. “Please dont ha-te me,” Bart is nearly hysterical, and Tim drops to his knees so hard it probably hurts. His hands loop around Bart's wrists, so incredibly gently. Bart takes a big, shaky breath, “I'm sorry, I should have listened, I shouldn't have over reacted, I'll be better I promise, i- just please don't hate me.”
“You were right. You did the right thing. You did exactly what a hero should have done. I should have believed you.” Tim squeezes his hands carefully. “I'm the one that needs to get better. It's not the end of the words if a plan doesn't work out.”
Bart's breath hiccups, his face wet with tears, and he looks ready to argue. “I do trust you. I trust you with my entire life. I'd give you anything you'd ever want. You're exactly how you should be, and I never should have acted like that. I love you for exactly who you are. Even if I don't always think about the things I say.”
Tim's hands slide up to Bart's shoulders, thumb shifting to wipe the tears left on his face and throat. Bart finally finds his voice, and the first thing he says is “I'm going to beat the shit out of you. Don't you ever say that again.” Tim lets out a small huff, nodding as he leans in to press a kiss to Bart's forehead. “You can beat my ass if I say anything like that again.”