Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Suddenly, the bats in the cave fluttered with screeching sounds and made the atmosphere in the cave tenser even as the screams, which had scared them away in the first place, ceased. 

"Yes, Dick, I got careless. So what?" sentenced Tim, his features hardening. The appointee was able to stiffen. "You realize you compromised the mission? You put yourself and all of us at unnecessary risk, Tim! You and all of us!" accused Dick. His scowl was exposed after removing his mask, but the rest of the Nightwing suit continued to show imposingly against Tim's civilian image.

The younger of the two was working undercover to bust the frequent patron of a sleazy bar who was actually the lieutenant of Gotham's new rising drug kingpin. Since Jason was out of town on maybe what mission with the rest of the Outlaws, it was up to them to take over the usual Red Hood territory to keep the network from growing to prosperity. Tim was to approach the guy as a distraction and to pry information out of him that would play against his boss in court while Dick was in charge of foiling the latest shipment coming into town; however, Red Robin, incognito in good brand name sunglasses and denim everything to pass for just another college kid easing the hangover with more alcohol, had accepted a few stiff drinks from the dealer until he got a little drunk. 

In truth, Tim was not in a good place. The last few weeks had been stressful since the latest escape from Arkham where Scarecrow had managed to give him a shot in the arm with his new strain of fear gas. And while Red Robin was among the best of the bat team to deal with him, he was coming off a heavy failed mission with his newly reunited team, Young Justice, which had ended in many arguments and few reconciliations. That, coupled with a scolding from Bruce for a slip-up on patrol that resulted in a sprained wrist and the sudden college acceptance letter he'd received, had him under a lot of pressure, and the fear gas had hit him like it hadn't for many years, leaving nightmarish after-effects for far too long a period. He was exhausted. He hadn't even wanted to participate that way in the week's traffic case, but Dick had insisted until he reluctantly convinced him by taking advantage of the fact that he was a bit on the bench due to his splinted wrist. So, when he saw an opportunity to unwind a bit, knowing that even drunk would keep the idiot distracted, and aware that he had already gotten all the necessary information out of him, he let himself go with the alcohol. 

Either way, Dick was overreacting. There was no way that him acting nonchalantly on a mission that required little on his part would compromise the whole job. For, of course, when he heard over the comms that Damian had gone ahead to attack the cargo handler before the signal they were waiting for to act, he heard no scolding from his older brother. On the contrary, when they had returned to the cave and he had checked on Tim, whom he was suspicious of after his younger brother had said some nonsense during their encounter with their target, he had let the current Robin and Batgirl, Steph and Damian, leave in triumph at the successful completion of the mission, but had kept Tim to give him a lecture that ended in an exchange of shouting and accusations. 

Whether it was because he was concerned or resented the small unnecessary risk during the event, Tim still felt that Dick had no right to corner him. Not when he was no longer the person in his charge or the stupid idol the third Robin had once blindly respected.

"No, Dick, I only endangered myself! The mission was fine, everything went fine, and I wasn't even needed there. You gave me a silly unnecessary role as an excuse to get me involved! God, stop it! I'm sick of your stupid attempts at bonding, you're not the boss of me, I'm practically an adult now, leave me alone!"

Aware of how temper tantrums he had sounded, Tim adjusted his jacket and turned his back on his brother. 

"That's not what this is about, Tim! What's wrong with you, why are you acting like a brat, that's not who you are!"

And maybe that had shattered something inside Tim because he felt defeated. Too exhausted to continue a pointless argument. The glass had shaken and the water was close to falling, but he managed to keep his composure. 

"And what am I supposed to be like, Dick, the stupid little duckling who follows you around without question, who does everything he's told almost as if he doesn't think for himself? Because if that's the only version of me you know, you're going to have to start getting used to the fact that you lost me a long time ago."

Maybe it was the alcohol in his blood, the adrenaline, or that he was still a little woozy, but the words had come out vicious and sharp as a freshly sharpened knife, and, deep down, he regretted them a little. This argument was so stupid; Dick was kind of right: Tim wasn't like that. He wasn't acting like a moody teenager.

Dick's countenance froze and he straightened his back better. 

"No, Tim, it's not like that. I meant you thought before you acted."

"Whatever."

"Maybe you should take a break, Tim," the older man exhaled laughingly. "Rest in your room until you're calmer and less..." he didn't finish the sentence, but it was clear what he meant to imply. Less so, without pointing it out in full, though that's what he meant. 
Tim clicked his tongue and headed for the stairs, retreating in annoyance.

"You can't, like, punish me, just because Bruce isn't around. You're not my dad," he mumbled. 

So childish. He probably was drunk.

☆⌒

Anyway, he listened to Dick and locked himself in his room. 

He felt slightly out of it, out of himself, and slower than he should. If he relaxed for a moment and thought better of it, he might indeed have put himself at unnecessary risk by trying to get drunk. Who knew what a dealer could get him into or what he could get him to try? Usually, those who sold didn't use the drugs, but you never know. Sometimes it's not all that criminals deal with. 

A shudder ran through him as he thought of all the times he had been kidnapped in the past or dismantled by human trafficking rings. Dick was right, and it was putting him in a worse mood. 

He sighed. He picked up his cell phone and dialed his most recent contact. 

"Kon...," he inhaled, fiddling with the name between his lips. 

He pressed and released his lips, sometimes running his tongue across them as he waited for his friend to answer. He hugged himself with his free arm as he held the cell phone in his free hand and settled between the pillows on his bed, looking up at the dark sky through his closed window and open curtains. He saw how high the moon was and questioned what time it might be for the first time.

Before he could decide to hang up the phone, Conner answered.

"Rob? Is everything okay? It's like two in the morning, man."

Tim's heart fluttered and before he could think better of what he was going to say, he simply blurted it out:

"Would you run away with me?" he exhaled softly, losing his breath at the end of the sentence.

"What?"

Chapter Text

Kon had lost Tim in the crowd.

They were together in an unfamiliar house in uptown Gotham, in the university quarter of the city. The music was bursting eardrums and the smell of marijuana was irritating the nostrils. The alcohol was probably burning the college kids' throats from drinking so much, but no one seemed to care about either of those things. Everyone was too busy chugging vodka, puking in the corners or making out on the couches and... Oh by Rao, was that Tim on one of the couches?

Kon would follow Tim to hell and back, however, he was having some regrets about agreeing to run away with him. He hadn't expected that by sneaking out he meant sneaking out the window of the manor to sneak into the first party they found. 

He was so, so confused. He hadn't been drinking, he hadn't been attacked by kryptonite or fallen from a very high place, nothing that could make him even a little dizzy, but he was still so disoriented. Something was wrong with Tim and he was going to find out.

"Tim, Tim!" shouted over the music Conner. 

Tim was in a green velvet armchair, his knees pressed to those of a girl who was caressing the boy's cheek with her long purple nails and coming dangerously close to his lips. Kon was a step away from the two, just as they were about to kiss, but at the last second Tim smiled and put a bottle of vodka with juice in his mouth, taking a gigantic sip. The girl snorted, half amused and half frustrated, got up and left. 

"Shit, Tim, what are you doing, looking for an STD?", Kon demanded to know, sitting down next to his friend with his knees as close together as they were with the girl moments before. 

"Overreacting," Tim rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Can we go, go get a burger or something? And for Rao's sake, stop drinking," he said snatching the bottle from her. He looked at it for a long second before taking a sip, though. It was disgusting, too fruity and he was sure Tim himself must not like it. "We're wasting our time," he snorted.

Tim snatched the bottle from him and took the last sip, making sure to lick his lips softly and for an extended second before tossing it away. Kon had to take a deep breath to keep from becoming unfocused on lewd thoughts about his best friend; he sniffed weed smell at the action and coughed a little in disgust. 

In the past he would have been eager to try it all, live the normal college life and all, smoke weed and try hallucinogens, if they had any effect on him or just to look cool. 

Conner had changed. He wanted to become a better person, to deliver the best version of himself and show Tim that he was someone worthwhile.

But for some reason Tim was showing him a side of himself that Conner had never seen. Part of him would love to see Tim try another life and relax to the point of losing himself; it was all so strange though. 

"Tim, let's talk, please," he said. This time he held Tim's arm, making sure not to hurt him, and tugged him a little to get him to move. 

"A burger, yeah, mm...," stammered the shorter boy. Rao, he was totally drunk. "Can I try something else first, please?"

Kon melted a little. He sounded so vulnerable, how could he refuse? If he thought about it calmly, his best friend never gave himself moments like that to relax and act without thinking. Something was going on, wouldn't it be better if he let him indulge a little? It would just be one thing, one more thing and he would drag him out of there to hang out and talk, like his escapade had to be from the first moment. He'd take him to freshen up and maybe then he could comfort him better than alcohol.

"Okay, just one more. But we'll share, you're out enough as it is..."

And he had Tim's lips on his, shushing him. The boy tasted over the wetness of her blossoms and parted just a little to leave little kisses at the corner of Conner's mouth, then pressed them tightly together again and held them there still. Conner made no move, dumbfounded. 

"Mm," laughed Tim, totally drunk. "Much better. Burgers?"

Kon didn't know if it was payback for interrupting whatever was going on with that girl from earlier or something else, maybe it was just the drunkenness and disorientation, but oh by the gods Tim Drake had just kissed him. And it was the sweetest kiss he had ever received in his life, did Tim always kiss like that or was it that he was attracted to Conner and appreciated him that much?
"Hamburgers," was all he could answer.

☆⌒

"This is delicious."

"Back in the land of the sober, Rob?" questioned Conner. 

He'd given the kid water... on his face, some apple juice and isotonic drink, then had him wash his face again in the bathroom of the 24hrs store they'd found, and they'd bought themselves a couple of chicken paprika pasta sandwiches. Innovative stuff, if you asked Conner, who was more accustomed to pineapple meals in Hawaii. 

"I'm better," Tim purred. He gave a long yawn and reached out to steal more apple juice from Kon. "Thanks for hanging out with me, Kon, I need it."

"That's what I'm for, bro. It's like, a bros thing, you know, being there for each other and stuff," to kiss too, he didn't add, but he was totally up for it. 

Tim grimaced. Yes, he was absolutely aware of what he had done an hour before. Conner didn't know why he hoped not.

"About earlier, I..."

"Tim." Tim raised the head he was beginning to hide when Kon interrupted him. "If you had to run away from home, why with me?" he asked.

"It was something silly, Kon, don't pay attention to it."

"No, T, you don't understand. I need to know. Please," he begged.

Tim pressed his lips together with his front teeth and sighed deeply. Conner lost himself in his best friend's expression, captivated by the memory of the kiss from earlier, so sweet, a little alcoholic, soft and tender.

"You're my best friend, Kon. You understand me, you listen to me, you follow me... And I love you for that. Because you are my best friend..." Circular argument. Tim was still somewhat drunk then. "Because if I had to spend the rest of my life on the run, the only thing I'd need by my side is you. I love you very much, Kon, I hope you know that."

They were very nice words, but so platonic. Conner was more confused with every moment they spent together that night. 

"Why are we running away, Tim?"

The robin snorted.

"I don't know. I want to know what an independent life would be like, away from Gotham. I... Kon, I haven't told anyone, but I got accepted to college."

"What, Tim, that's great. Finally, one of us..." but he fell silent. Tim didn't look as happy as he should be. "What's wrong, T?

"Me, I'd leave, Kon. Away from my family, away from the hero life unless Massachusetts needs a vigilante," he laughed listlessly. 

"You stayed at MIT," Kon gasped. "Not Gotham U or Princeton... Fucking MIT in another state, bro. That's..."

"I made a decision, Kon," this time Tim looked him in the eye and smiled half-heartedly. "No more Red Robin. No titans or young justice. No more cape."

"You, you don't know how to tell them, do you?"

"I screwed up on a mission today," he sobbed a little. "I wanted to be helpful, but I've been screwing up lately. I want to retire on good terms, but what impression am I giving my family? Our friends? I'm doing things wrong and then abandoning them."

"No, Tim, no. You're not abandoning anything, you're pursuing a different goal. And that's okay, buddy. You've got me, you've got Cassie and Bart, you've got your brothers, you've got everybody. No one will stand up to you. There are other retired heroes," he forced a laugh. "You're not that special."

This time Tim's half-smile was honest. 

"Me, I'll be leaving you Kon. And I don't know if I want to."

Conner folded his arms and clicked his tongue, looked down at his sandwich-not so good-and then sighed. 

"Are you still drunk?"

"A little bit," Tim admitted.

"It shows. I mean, you think you're going to get rid of me when I can fly to your side anytime I want? And believe me, Tim, I always want to fly to you."

The conversation was no longer distressing. Soon it was going to be dawn and they were the only two idiots eating in the little joint. Tim pursed his lips and left a hand outstretched on the table. Conner took it. The other boy lifted his head and blushed, though perhaps he was still red from drunkenness.

"That kiss Tim?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't you dare Tim, was it out of spite or did you want to do it? Because I, I've been dying to kiss you, Tim Drake," he sighed. He could see Tim swallow saliva and sob a little.

"I was dying to kiss you too, Kon. And not in a platonic sense."

Kon let out a laugh.

"Do platonic kisses even exist?"

Tim shrugged his shoulders. Conner felt he would do anything for Tim. 

"Now, are we still running away from home or...? Because I already warned Ma that I'd be gone for a while or forever, I wasn't too sure. And I only brought my wallet with me, though I don't have much, but I guess I can find something in..."

"Kon," Tim guffawed and took a sip of apple juice. "No. I don't know, is it running away if I go away for college, would you go with me?"

"I'd follow you to the end of the world and back, Tim. I mean, I accompanied you to a party in Gotham, it's kind of the same thing. And maybe I could go to college myself, although I don't know if it's for me. Hey! I could go into movies. I love movies. Surely there's some public high school that'll take me... in some state in this country..."

"Conner! Hahahaha. Yeah, I mean, you're absolutely dramatic, you'd do well," he gave him a warm smile. "Or you could ask Clark and Louis for help and take up movie reviews, you're pretty good at complaining too."

"I guess so," he laughed. "The point is, Tim, if that's what you want, I'll go along. What's the use of me flying if it's not to get to where you are."

Tim was red and grinning, surely no longer from the alcohol. 

"Fine. Maybe not for now, but let's do it. I'll talk to my family."

Dawn painted the sky. Conner took Tim's hand and stroked it lovingly. There was a long way to go in their story, but they would be okay for now.