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The thing with wishes, is they never really…work. Not in the way they're intended, at least.
Kon knew this—he'd seen it over and over, and dealt with the fallout too many times. Memories of a world without grown-ups came to mind.
The fact of the matter was: he should have known better than to make a wish within earshot of a magic user. He did know better.
He hadn't meant to actually wish it though. He was just…expressing a desire, you know? How was he supposed to know that that annoying little witch boy was lurking in the shadows, ready to do some freaky shit and blast Kon into…here. Wherever here was.
Everything was weird, including his own body. His own powers. He had, like, full-on Kryptonian powers and shit and he didn't know how to deal with it. He'd almost burned through the wall of the apartment he'd landed in with heat vision, and so he was flying blind, eyes squeezed shut, navigating by memory and hoping that it wouldn't steer him wrong. He needed his team. He needed…
"Superboy?" Someone asked. There was a clamor of voices as he landed.
"Is that—Conner? What's going on?"
He wished he knew. Were his new powers affecting his ability to recognize voices, too? All he'd wished was to be able to grow up like everyone else. Why was this happening? Maybe this Conner person had some idea.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, staring down and hoping he wasn't on any flammable surface.
He saw a stone floor beneath his knees. His eyes were clear—no heat melting it down. He let himself look up at the people around him—heroes, for sure, but not ones he recognized. Superman was looking at him with a wide-eyed, almost scared expression, but he was younger than Kon knew him. Had the wish done some age-switching stuff? But no, there was Nightwing, and Cyborg, and they were…were they older? Kon didn't really know the Titans all that well, but they certainly hadn't gotten younger the way Superman had.
There was a girl in Amazonian armor, and a big red dude with horns. Even Batgirl, but she was…blonde. He didn't know Batgirl all that well, but the original was pretty clearly a red-head, and the newer one had a completely different look.
This wasn't her. None of these people were who he was looking for. He was in Happy Harbor, but it was all wrong.
"Where are Young Justice?" he demanded. Maybe he should have gone to Hawaii, instead, looked for Dubbilex, or someone from Cadmus, but they were the reason he'd made this wish in the first place, and—
"Conner, buddy…"
"Who the fuck is Conner?" he asked, frowning at this Not-Superman guy. "I don't know what's happening here, but I need my team, this is…it's all wrong."
"Uh…" The group exchanged looks.
"Should we call someone?" Batgirl whispered. "Who do we know that deals with amnesia?"
He looked at her, then at Nightwing, standing behind her. "Robin," he decided. They'd be able to find him, right? "I need Robin. Or—" he looked at the Amazonian. "Wonder Girl? Do you…do you know her? Cassie, I mean, not the…the other one, I…" He trailed off at the mingled confusion and concern on their faces.
"You don't know me, do you?" Not-Superman asked.
"I mean…you're Superman?" He guessed.
"Shit." Not-Superman said. Definitely not Superman.
"Hey, Dick? Maybe you should call Tim," Batgirl muttered to Nightwing.
"Tim's not doing this anymore," Nightwing whispered. "He wanted out. Is that the best idea?"
"Yeah, but, like…it's Conner."
"Who are you guys talking about?" Kon demanded. It was all too much.
"I'm calling him." Nightwing nodded, turning and half-jogging out of the room.
Not-Superman sat next to him, and the rest of the team dispersed at a look. "Conne—Kon, can you tell me what you remember?"
Kon explained the wish, the confusion, the powers.
"—and I don't even know who any of these names are! Who is Conner? Who's Tim?"
Superman made a face, like he wasn't sure what he could say. "Look, Conner is you, first of all. Your…civilian name. You don't know that?"
"I'm not a civilian, I don't have a secret identity, not like—"
"Tim, thank god!" Kon—Conner?—heard Nightwing's voice coming from another room. Super hearing? "Tim, something's up with Conner, and he's looking for you. Well, you and the rest of YJ, but he's asking for you and he doesn't even know his own name. I know you're retired, but—"
A tinny voice came from the other end of the call. A tinny, slightly deeper than Kon remembered it being, but familiar voice. "Can't you call Cassie? Or Bart? Dick, he's my friend, but I can't do this. I can't just jump back into some mystical—"
Kon didn't stick around to hear the end of the call. That was Robin. Rob. Tim was Robin, and Robin was Tim, and Kon needed to find him so he could figure out what the hell was happening here.
He flew, honing in on the sound of his voice. He might not know the extent of his powers, but it seemed at least his body was able to remember how to use them.
He wasn't an idiot. The way they all spoke, the expression on not-Superman's face, the wish he'd made…Kon knew what had happened. He got his wish—he was an adult, an adult with full Kryptonian powers. He was in the future. The Titans had taken over Mount Justice, and his team…
His team wasn't a team anymore.
Robin wasn't even Robin anymore, if the phone call and the way Batgirl and Nightwing had hissed at each other was anything to go by.
This, clearly, was a future he couldn't let happen. He had to figure out what happened, and change it.
He landed in a Gotham street, ignoring the whispers and shouts sparked by his arrival. He was outside a restaurant—a nice one, from the look of it, and he followed the familiar voice into an alley.
"Rob!" He called. Then—"Tim?"
Tim turned around, and Kon could only stare. He'd never seen his full face before. Not without a mask, or sunglasses, or something to protect his identity.
"Shit," he grabbed Kon and pulled him behind a dumpster. "You can't be here!"
"I didn't know where else to go," Kon tried to explain, ignoring the flash of…something he felt when Tim had grabbed him like that. He was wearing a dark green shirt, open at the collar to show just a little skin, and when he grabbed Kon, there was a whiff of expensive cologne on his skin.
Was…Was Robin hot?
"Jon was trying to help you!" Tim whispered, gesturing at the phone in his hand.
"I don't know who the fuck that is!" Kon ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I don't know any of them. Not like I know you."
Tim's face fell. "This isn't a good—agh!" Tim sounded stressed. "Kon, I'm not Robin anymore. If Ber—if my date saw me with you, I—"
Kon stumbled back until he hit the wall of the alley. He looked at Tim again. The nice clothes, the styled hair, the cologne and the fancy restaurant. He was on a date. Of course.
"Are you still with Spoiler?" Kon snapped, for no real reason.
"What? Steph—you just saw her in Happy Harbor, Kon, what the—"
Kon frowned. Spoiler wasn't there, she was— "She's Batgirl now?" he asked, feeling dumb again. Just like Robin always managed to do.
"Look, I'm sorry. This has to be overwhelming, I get it. But I'm a civilian now, and I can't—"
Kon nodded. "Right. You're right. I came here because I knew you better, I thought you'd…" he shook his head. "It's cool. I'll find Cassie. Or Bart, maybe. Or Cissie! I mean, I know she turned civilian too, but she never turned her back on friends. I guess I was wrong when I said I knew you, anyway. I've never met Tim in my life."
Kon took off, but he didn't fly away. He didn't try to reach out and find any of the others, he just…sat on the roof of the restaurant, sulking.
Fuck Tim.
He listened to Tim, still standing in the alleyway. A minute passed, then two, then—"Kon?" Tim was calling him. "Kon, I know you're still there. I might've hung up the cape, but I'm still me. I know yo—"
Tim cut himself off as someone else walked into the alleyway. "Tim, baby. What's wrong? You've been out here for—were you just yelling at the sky?"
Baby. The newcomer, the male newcomer, was calling Tim Baby.
Kon wasn't supposed to even know what his face looked like, let alone…he was fucking everything up. No wonder Tim was pissed off—he shouldn't be here.
"Oh! Bernard, hey, sorry, I was just…family stuff. I didn't mean to take so long."
"Family stuff?" Bernard didn't sound convinced.
"Yeah, uh…Dick called. An old friend is having a, uh…crisis, I guess. Apparently he was looking for me, but he ran off, and…" Tim sighed. Kon heard a thump, and figured he must have sat down. He spared a moment of silence for those extremely expensive pants he'd been wearing, to be ruined by that filthy alleyway.
"Hey, if you need to go help your friend, that's cool. We've just got dessert left, anyway. I'll pack them up, bring them home, we can have it at home later."
Tim hummed. "I can't help him. He—he needs help I can't give anymore. Not without breaking a promise I made."
Bernard hummed. Kon kind of wanted to test his x-ray vision to look through the wall at them, but he couldn't be confident he wouldn't accidentally blast a hole in it. Instead, he crawled to the edge of the roof and peeked over. Tim was sitting against the dumpster, head leaning back against it, while Bernard—a blonde guy, probably a little shorter than Tim, on the skinny side—stood in front of him.
"The same promise that means you've suddenly had a lot more free time lately?" Bernard guessed.
Tim shrugged. "I wanted more time with you. I love you, Bern."
Bernard nodded, but didn't return the sentiment. "I think you do. But I doubt it sometimes, you know?"
Tim jolted. "I—what?" he demanded.
"Sorry. This is a bad time, you've got…"
"Bernard. Please."
Bernard sighed. "It's just…you act like all this extra time together can fix us. But time was never the problem. You aren't being honest with me, Tim. Sometimes I wonder if you ever were."
Tim dropped his head back against the dumpster, but this time his eyes were open. He looked right up, just for a moment, and his eyes locked with Kon's.
Kon ducked back out of sight, heart thundering in his chest. This was bad. This was so, so, unbelievably bad.
He shouldn't be here for this. He'd caused this. If he hadn't shown up, Tim would be happily finishing his dessert and going home with his boyfriend and…
"You can't even think of a lie right now, can you?" Bernard asked. He scoffed. "I'll get the desserts and the bill. Call me later if you wanna try again."
His footsteps retreated back to the restaurant, and Kon listened to Tim's heavy breathing.
"Still there?" Tim asked, voice small.
Kon sighed and poked his head out again, then floated himself down to street level, where he sat next to Tim.
"Sorry."
"What? Why?"
"I feel like that was my fault," he explained.
"It's…been coming for a while. I should be sorry. I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing, kid."
Kon felt himself blush, which was stupid.
"What?" Tim asked.
"Sorry, nothing. Just…everyone keeps calling me Conner, and I…that's not me. Not yet, anyway. Feels kinda nice to hear you call me kid, is all."
Tim smiled, a lackluster little thing. "This must all be pretty overwhelming, huh?"
"Just, like, an insane amount. Yeah." Kon joked, and then they were both laughing, leaning into each other's space until Tim's head was on his shoulder. He sat perfectly still, not wanting to disturb him.
"I quit Robin to be with him, Kon, and it's…it's still not enough. There's still so much I can never explain to him."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't do that to him. He's a civilian!"
Kon nodded slowly. "So's Lois Lane, right? And she's like…dating Superman, or whatever, isn't she?"
"They're married. Jon's their kid—" Tim shook his head. "It's so weird you don't know any of this yet."
Kon hummed. "Sure, married. I mean, if it can work for them, with her knowing everything, why can't it work for you guys?"
Tim just sort of…looked at him for a minute. "Are you sure you're the same Superboy I knew at sixteen? The dumbass horndog always chasing girls and running off to do whatever sounded coolest in the moment?"
Kon snorted again. "Wow. I'm offended, buddy. I've got layers! Depth! I'm a complex guy, I'll have you know."
"Do you think you'll remember this?" Tim asked. "When they reset the wish?"
Kon shrugged, and immediately regretted it when Tim moved his head away. "No clue. I'd like to, but I get if you'd prefer to tell me all this the way you originally did. On your terms, I mean. I didn't even know your name till today."
Tim laughed. "Oh, man. I didn't really have a choice last time, either, but it's cool. I wanted to tell you guys, but you know Batman and his rules."
"Yeah, I'm sure it was all Batman—you're not strict about this stuff at all," Kon teased.
"Shut up," Tim rolled his eyes. "Nah, but that's cool. Don't go spreading it, but I pretty much always wanted you guys to know who I am. It's more the…other thing?"
Oh. "The Bernard thing?" Kon guessed.
"Yeah. You aren't…Is that okay? It's not, like, weird for you, is it?"
Define weird, Kon thought, thinking about the ache in his chest and flutter in his stomach. "Nah, man, it's cool. I'll keep it between us."
"Thing is, I didn't know it myself until Bernard asked me out. If you remember, and I haven't figured it out yet, it's…"
"Trippy," Kon concluded.
"Sure. That works."
"Do you want me to…tell you? Or…?" Kon imagined it—walking up to his reluctant friend and most reticent teammate, calling him by name and informing him he's gay. Or, whatever label Tim is.
"Probably wouldn't go over too well," Tim laughed.
"Probably not." Kon looked at him.
"Can I ask you something now?"
Kon hummed. "Seems only fair, I guess."
"Why are you here? What happened?"
Kon scoffed. "I made a wish—please don't tell me how dumb that was, I know it was dumb."
"And what, you wished to time travel?"
"I just wanted to grow up," Kon admitted. "Being sixteen forever is great in theory, but…I started to realize how quickly I'd be left behind that way."
"Hey, we'd never let that happen, Kon. Trust me, if that hadn't gotten fixed, then I'd—" he shook his head. "There's not a lot I wouldn't do for you, SB. Remember that."
"Except keep being Robin." Kon knew he was being petty, but he couldn't help it.
"Kon…" Tim looked at a loss for words.
"Sorry. It's just weird—you love being Robin. It's weird to see you leave it behind."
Tim hummed. Their eyes met, and Kon began to feel a strange tingling in his fingers and toes as Tim's phone pinged.
He looked down at it. "Dick says they've got hold of Zatanna, she's working her magic, unraveling the spell that brought you here."
"Already?" Kon asked. Tim shrugged.
"Everyone likes Nightwing. Hard to say no to him. It's been nice seeing you, pal."
"You too. I like this version of you, you know? Not the quit Robin part, because that was dumb, but…I like Tim. Can't wait to meet him."
Tim rolled his eyes and reached for Kon's hand, squeezing it once. "See you around, SB."
And then Kon was back where he'd started, Klarion scowling at him from his hiding place. Kon grabbed him with TTK and roughed him up a little.
"Whoa! That's a bit much, don't you think?" Kon turned to see Robin. His Robin. Tim. He was standing with his arms crossed, lips pursed in judgment. Kon smiled at him, and felt that feeling again. That fluttery thing.
"He's an asshole," Kon said, and left it at that.
Conner blinked, and he was sitting in a dark, disgusting alleyway with Tim Drake holding his hand. He jumped up and away. "What's going on?" he asked. "What the fuck is—"
"Whoa! Hey! SB, are you okay?"
"SB?" Conner asked. "You haven't called me that since…" he stopped, as a memory resurfaced, one he hadn't thought about in years, one he'd long since dismissed as a weird pubescent daydream.
"Holy shit, I just…that was real?" He demanded. "I just…and you just…and—" he spun around, pointing to the entrance of the alleyway. "Bernard?"
"He's probably driving home by now. You…remember this, then?" Tim asked, hesitant.
"Yeah. Yeah, shit, that was fucking weird. After a while I couldn't tell if it was a dream or real or—"
"No wonder you weren't surprised when I came out to you," Tim grumbled. Conner laughed, and was relieved when he saw Tim laughing along with him.
Kon looked at him, beautiful as ever—though he'd always be partial to Tim in his natural habitat—Robin suit on, mask off, unguarded and happy. This was good too, though.
"I know you probably wanna go make up with Bernard," he said, sobering.
Tim tilted his head. "He can…wait. A little."
Kon nodded. "I just wanted…god, this isn't supposed to…" Kon blew out a breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, okay?"
Tim nodded slowly.
"I know you care about him. I want you to be happy, but I…I think you should think about whether you are. Happy, I mean. With him."
"Kon…"
"No, listen to me. You deserve someone who loves all of you, Tim. Robin. Whether you decide to trust him, to tell him everything, or whether it's…" Kon cleared his throat. He wanted to say it, but he couldn't. "Whether it's someone else, another time. You shouldn't hide yourself, man. You're too good for that. You deserve more—and, frankly, so does he."
Conner jerked his head back to indicate where Bernard had vanished. The silence stretched, as Tim stared at him.
This Tim, with the perfect hair and the startled eyes and the sexy fucking unbuttoned shirt which had filled more than a few of Kon's teenage fantasies. He was finally real. Conner could finally reach out and touch him, if he wanted to.
But he didn't. He wouldn't. He nodded once and looked up at the darkening sky. "I should go make sure everyone knows I'm alright."
Tim nodded, speechless for once. Kon took off, and flew aimlessly for a while. He'd almost forgotten, honestly, how in love he was with that boy. He'd made himself forget, really, knowing Tim had asked him not to reveal too much of the future—Kon had always been a blabbermouth, after all, and if he let one thing slip he might just blurt out the whole thing.
So he'd kept quiet, let the spark that had first ignited in that alleyway blossom into a steady crush that had lasted up until the moment Tim had finally come out to them, told them he was seeing someone—seeing Bernard.
And Conner had quietly extinguished that flame. He'd seen the anguish on Tim's face that day in the alley, and he didn't want to contribute to it.
And here he was, today, contributing.
And there that pesky flame was, still burning hot as ever despite his attempts to smother it.
He found a quiet rooftop on the other side of the city to perch on, and watched the moon slowly move across the sky.
He heard the sounds of the city below. The sounds of Batman and all the other bats spread across the streets, each of them fighting their fight, except for Tim. He didn't listen for Tim, couldn't stand to hear him make up with Bernard, explain it all to him, couldn't listen to Bernard inevitably forgive him, because who wouldn't forgive Tim? Who wouldn't welcome him back with open arms?
Red hood was beating up some asshole who tried to corner a teenage girl walking home from the library, and Conner listened with satisfaction to the thug's cries and whimpered apologies, until—
"What did you mean?" Tim asked, directly behind him. Conner jumped, whirling around.
"What are you doing here? How did—"
"You're on a roof in Gotham, buddy. You think I'm that far out of the game that I couldn't track you down? People were worried when you didn't check back in."
"You mean Jon was worried," Conner joked.
"Well, yeah. I was too, though, considering that's what you said you were doing. Now answer my question." Tim sat on the edge of the roof next to him.
"Question?" Conner bluffed.
"What did you mean? Your speech, about what I deserved. If not Bernard, then who?"
Conner couldn't look at him. He wasn't ready to see whatever was happening in those eyes. "Tim, I—"
"Did you mean you?" he asked, and Conner's heart stopped.
"What?" he bluffed.
"I keep wracking my brains, and it's the only thing that makes sense. Do you…would you…"
Something broke in Conner, and he couldn't keep it in anymore. Not with Tim asking so directly. "Tim, I've pretty much been in love with you since that alleyway tonight."
"So, like, an hour or two?" Tim tried to joke, but it fell flat, the moment too serious. Conner looked at him, finally meeting his eyes.
"I love you, Tim. I know the timing is shitty, and I should've said something sooner, but I couldn't get it out of my head that I probably just made this whole thing up, that you wouldn't—"
Tim kissed him.
Conner gasped, pulling away. "What about Bernard?" he asked.
Tim bit his lip. He reached for Conner's hand, and Conner didn't pull it away. "I told him the truth," he said.
Conner frowned. If Tim had come clean about it all, why was he here? Surely Bernard wouldn't—
"I told him I was in love with someone else. That I'd been trying to ignore it for so long, but that he needed me tonight, and I realized I needed him too. I told Bernard I cared for him, that I did love him, but that he wasn't…he wasn't you, SB."
If anyone asked, later, Conner would insist he wasn't crying. He'd blame Gotham's weird rain, or moisture from the fog, and he would tell them he had been very dashing and attractive when he pulled Tim in to kiss him for the first time.
He'd be lying, of course, but nobody other than himself and Tim—and probably a half dozen or so bat-kids spying from neighboring rooftops—needed to know the truth.
Maybe wishes weren't so bad after all.