Chapter Text
Attempt 94:
Proteins Synthesizing…
DNA Sequencing…
En-
Error. Error.
Attempt 94: FAILED.
Tim slams his fist into his desk, the papers there jolting at the impact. Another failed attempt. He slumps into his chair, dragging his hands over his eyes and down his face. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take.
Damn Superboy. Damn him for dying and leaving Tim alone. And damn that Superboy from Earth Prime. Damn him for taking Conner away from him. And damn everything.
Tim clenches his fist, fighting the urge to punch everything in sight. That would be counterproductive, he reminds himself. He needs this equipment and these files to bring his best friend back. And he will. He’s so close, he feels it. The next attempt will be the one. Nevermind the fact he told himself that the last twenty times. This time he really means it.
He looks down at his cold coffee with a small frown. He’ll be needing more of that before his next trial.
It’s been a year since Conner… was taken. This will be the fourth month of trials. The first few months Tim was… less than ideal. He could hardly eat, hardly move. Every twitch of his muscles reminded him that Conner’s weren’t moving at all. And they never would again. And another round of tears would spill from his eyes. And he would cry until he couldn’t anymore, until he was dizzy from dehydration and hyperventilating. On many occasions Bruce or Dick had to pick him up, force food and water down his throat. Then he’d go right back to rotting in his bed and sobbing until he passed out and slipped into restless dreams.
But that was until Tim pulled his head out of his ass. Before he realized Conner isn’t really gone. He’s just… away. And Tim can bring him back. He can make another Conner. He feels stupid for wasting so much time grieving when he could’ve been starting his research and experiments. He could’ve had Conner back sooner.
He hasn’t told anyone what he’s doing, of course. He tells his family he’s with Bernard or the team, he tells Bernard he’s working, and he’s hardly spoken to the team at all. If they are even a team. First Conner, then Bart. There is hardly a team left. Some nights, Tim wished he could join his friends in the afterlife. But he chooses not to dwell on that. He focuses on bringing Conner back.
As Tim takes a sip of his freshly brewed coffee, he lets it all sink in. The weight of what he’s doing. Should he really be doing this? This probably isn’t a healthy way to grieve, he knows this. But… if there’s any chance at all that he can bring his best friend back, why wouldn’t he at least try? At least give it a shot? Technically, he’s given it ninety-four shots, and about to be on his ninety-fifth. But nevermind that. He’s close and he knows it. It’s just a puzzle he needs to crack, a case he needs to solve. He was born for this.
______________________
Tim jolts awake at the sound of something vibrating on his desk. He fell asleep here. Again. It seems he sleeps in his lab more than he sleeps in his own bed. He looks down to see his phone vibrating with an incoming call. It’s Dick. For a moment, he thought it would be Bernard. Thought his boyfriend would check in on him. But Bernard isn’t really his boyfriend anymore. It’s been… Tim doesn’t even know how long since they’ve spoken. Tim hasn’t stopped by his apartment, stopped answering his calls, stopped everything. He’s been too busy, too focused. Maybe Bernard will forgive him, but he doubts it. Part of him doesn’t want forgiveness either. Bernard will never understand what he’s been doing down here. He’ll never understand the ache in his heart and the emptiness in his soul.
Tim grapples at the phone and answers.
“Hello?” he says groggily.
“Hey, Tim. It’s me, Dick.”
“I know it’s you, I have your number saved,” Tim huffs softly.
“Right, right. Just… checking in on you. Bruce says you haven’t been by the manor in a while.”
How long has it been? Tim can’t remember if it’s been days or weeks since he last left the lab. Probably the latter.
“I’ve just been… busy. You know how it is.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” Dick lets out an exhale that’s heard through the phone speakers. “We’re worried about you, Tim. I know you’re not with your team or Bernard like you keep saying you are.”
“Look, Dick-”
“Hey, I’m not accusing you of anything, okay? You’re an adult, you’re free to… do whatever in your freetime. But we miss seeing you around the house. And I think B misses your presence on patrol, even if he’s too stubborn to go out and say it.”
Tim sighs. He should probably go home. At least for a day, show face and prove he’s okay and mentally stable. Maybe get a decent meal in, he’s always loved Alfred’s cooking. He’ll start the next attempt as soon as he gets back.
“Okay. I’ll be home in twenty.”
______________________
Tim huffs as he pushes the grand doors to the manor open. They never seem to get any lighter, no matter how many times Tim has opened them. As he steps inside, they slam shut behind him in a dramatic fashion. There goes any subtlety he had.
“Master Timothy,” Alfred says from beside Tim, startling him. “It’s good to see you home this afternoon.”
“Right, good to be home, Alfred,” Tim gives a weak smile. “Say, you happen to have lunch whipped up?”
Alfred raises an eyebrow and looks down at his watch. It’s two in the afternoon, Alfred usually serves lunch around noon. He looks back up at the boy, about to insist he wait for dinner, before noting his appearance. Tim looks gaunt, hair tousled, and bags beneath his eyes. He looks like he’s lost weight, and a decent amount of muscle. This boy needs to eat.
“Follow me, young sir. I’ll reheat a dish for you.”
“Thanks, Alfred, you’re the best,” Tim mumbles as he follows.
It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since he’s been home. But then again, he doesn’t even know what day it is. He hasn’t seen sunlight in who knows how long and the days all blend into one. Which reminds him, he should probably talk to his boyfriend. Or his… whatever they are now. He’s not even sure if he can handle having a boyfriend right now. He’s been pretty shitty for the past… year. God, he’s awful. And Bernard is far too understanding, far too good for him.
Tim plops into a seat at the kitchen island, a spot reserved for more casual meals like breakfast or a midday snack, as Alfred starts reheating leftover lunch.
“Faring alright, sir?”
“Hm?” Tim perks up slightly. “Oh, fine. Just… thinking. You know how it is.”
“If you’re anything like the rest of this family, I certainly do. Care to speak your mind?”
“I, uh, well… you know how I’ve been, Alf. I just… I can’t really talk about it. I feel like no one understands.”
Alfred only nods and hums in response, telling Tim it’s okay to continue.
“It’s just a lot. And… I feel bad for Bern. I… I can’t even tell you the last time I spoke to him, Alfred. I’ve been such a shitty partner for like the last year! I don’t even know what to do, what to say.”
“First, I’d start with an apology,” Alfred sets a plate in front of Tim. Pasta, alfredo with capers and crab meat with a drizzle of lemon. Tim’s stomach lurches, and he’s not sure if it’s due to hunger or the idea of stomaching all of this when he hasn’t eaten in days.
“Well, yeah, of course. I just… then what?”
“What do you want, Master Timothy?”
“I… I don’t know,” Tim twirls the pasta on his fork. “I think I… want to break things off. For both of our sakes. I’ve been unfair to him and he deserves better. And… I just don’t think I can be with him right now.”
“That very mature of you, young lad. The problem won’t go away if you ignore it.”
“I know. I’ve just been… busy,” Tim sighs and takes a bite of his food. Just as good as Alfred’s usual cooking. “Thanks, Alf.”
“Anytime, young master. Now, I suggest you finish your food and take a good bath before seeing the boy.”
Tim nods. He isn’t ready for this conversation, but he’ll have to be. He bites his lip as he pulls out his phone and opens his texts with Bernard.
Tim: Hey, can I come over?
______________________
Tim’s hands wring nervously in his hoodie pocket as he stands outside of Bernad’s apartment. His hair is still damp from his shower. This apartment used to be a second home to him. Hell, half of his wardrobe is probably here. But right now, it feels so foreign. He’s jolted out of his thoughts as the door opens.
“Hey,” Tim gives a weak smile.
“Wow,” Bernard looks Tim up and down. “You look like shit.”
“Fair,” Tim chuckles dryly. “Can I come in?”
Bernard opens the door wider for Tim and he steps inside. Instantly the familiar scent washes over him like a warm blanket. So many nights spent here, so many memories made. And all of a sudden, he’s not sure if he can do this anymore. If he can let go, even though he knows he should. He sits down on the couch. Bernard follows.
“So… it’s been a while.”
“Is that really all you came here to say?” Bernard huffs. “We haven’t spoken in a month, Tim. A month. I- you’ve been dodging my calls and every time I stop by your house they say you’re not there.”
“I know, Bern, I know. I- I’ve been such a mess lately, okay?”
“If by lately you mean the past year.” Bernard mutters.
“Look, I get it. And I never meant to… shut you out like this. I’ve just been busy. I know that’s not an excuse and… and I’m sorry, Bern. You don’t have to forgive me but… I’m sorry.”
Bernard sighs softly and takes Tim’s hand.
“Just let me in, T. We’re in this together, right?”
“I… I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just…” Tim scoots over and rests his head on Bernard’s shoulder. “I’m just going through a lot. I’m just… I don’t even know anymore. And I’m sorry you’re suffering because of it.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay, Tim. I’m just worried about you.”
“I know…” Tim turns his head to look up at Bernard. Those blue eyes he knows so well. But when he looks at them now, he’s only reminded of the blue eyes he misses so dearly.
Tim leans up and presses a soft, clumsy kiss to Bernard’s lips. He’s kissed them a million times before, but now when they meet he can only think of lips he never got to kiss. And when Bernard kisses back, now he thinks he’d rather someone else was kissing him.
He’s not sure when this started. Why now, why when he’s gone, does Tim want him so badly? When Conner was here, Tim didn’t feel this. Sure, he was attracted to him. Part of his gut ached with jealousy when he and Cassie got together. He would, on occasion, stare at Conner with a longing he couldn’t figure out. But now it makes sense. Now that Conner is gone.
Tim pulls back from the kiss, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. He does love Bernard, how could he not? Bernard was everything to him and had been for so long. But now… things are different now. And Tim doesn’t think they can ever be the same again.
“I… I don’t think I can do this anymore, Bernard,” Tim says quietly.
“You… do what?”
“This, Bern. I don’t think I can be with you anymore,” the tears in Tim’s eyes threaten to spill over. “And it’s not your fault, it never will be. I just… I don’t think I can do this right now. Be in a relationship.”
Bernard doesn’t respond for a moment, clearly processing this news. Of course he must have been expecting this. They haven’t spoken in a month, he must have known Tim would say something like this. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“But… in the future? Will you be ready later?”
“I don’t know. I love you, Bernard. I always will. Being with you… was everything to me. But I haven’t been treating you right for a while now and… I think I just need to be by myself for a while.”
“I… okay. I understand,” Bernard nods. “Do you think… maybe one day you’ll be willing to try again?”
“Maybe,” Tim gives a small smile and presses a gentle goodbye kiss to Bernard’s lips.
“I love you,” Bernard mumbles against Tim’s lips.
“I love you too.”
Their last kiss, Tim doesn’t wish it was someone else. He wants it to be Bernard, needs it to be. It’s like closing a chapter of his life, a chapter that is so crucial to his being. He knows this will be the last time their lips meet and he wants to savor it. To savor Bernard one last time.