Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Jason says that he is worried for the kid, he means it in the most logical, non-feeling sense. Everyone, even someone such as Jason who didn’t care much for the kid, would be somewhat concerned.

(Jason very much did care for Tim Drake, no matter how much he refused to admit it. They had managed to bond over a pretty sick explosion so… you can’t blame him for caring a bit.)

The kid always acted a little odd (really fucking strange) but recently it had become too much even for Jason to support.

Not only that, but the kid looked unwell. Really fucking unwell. Like he was tossed into the Gotham Harbour kind of bad.

Tim was feverish. Sure, that could be down to his immunocompromised spleenless body - maybe he really had been tossed into the sea.

But there was something else. One time, he had sort of flinched hard, even though nothing had happened. Jason saw this in the manor after Tim had eaten the entirety of the previous nights leftovers (there was a fuck-ton of leftovers, seriously, what the fuck?). He had sat down, and had just finished his food when his whole body tensed up.

It was barely there. But Jason wasn’t blind. Tim caught his concern and jerkily stood up, practically sprinting away.

That was another thing, (okay, so there was actually quite a few things.) when he had ran off, his movements had been stiff, like a puppet or something, when earlier he had managed his general gracefulness.

This, combined with Tim’s recent withdrawal back to his hidden safehouse (which was possibly the strangest factor because Tim had finally settled back into being at the manor semi-regularly, and Tim didn’t actually like being alone, even if he always seemed to isolate himself. Yeah…) was what led Jason to this ‘batfamily’ meeting.

——

Between fleeing the Manor and returning home, Tim didn’t have much memory of what happened. He wasn’t capable of his usual brainpower after he had managed to rip through a metal wired fence.

What he was able to manage was a string of rather strong language that he honestly didn’t know he had the capacity for.

Regardless of that, he stumbled through his alarm system, all the while his legs feeling not entirely his own, as he made a beeline for the fridge. Never had he felt so regretful as he did just then, because his fridge was pretty damn bare. The majority of the shelves were dedicated to grape zesti which he immediately chugged like crazy, and the rest was an assortment of random lab shit and takeout a few days too old.

He ate everything.

He had to fight to stop himself from downing the lab stuff.

(What the hell was happening to him?!)

Food.

Tim jolted, (his deliriousness was the only thing that stopped him from realising that that very much wasn’t his inner-voice, but rather something else entirely.)

Hungry.

Tim quickly moved on to the freezer, which had an entire packet of dinosaur chicken nuggets in the corner. It had a thick layer of frost (Tim didn’t use his oven much, and therefore had no use for freezer food)

He devoured the frozen nuggets as well.

His stomach churned rather viciously and he dived for the toilet bowl.

It was possibly the most unpleasant he had felt in a long time, and that was saying something - he had been down in the sewers dealing with killer croc and Damian just yesterday. Ugh.

Tim was sure he wasn’t going to be sick, and seriously, how could he? He had just emptied his entire freaking stomach.

Shakily, Tim rose and steadied himself on the sink, turning the tap and splashing water into his face. There was no way he could patrol like this.

While he fished his phone out, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

Tim, well… he shrieked.

Because staring back at him, his eyes were white and his teeth were pointed almost like King Sharks.

He fell back into the bathtub and slipped on a stray block of soap.

Taken out by his own (was it his?) reflection.

Yep, there was absolutely no way he could patrol like this tonight.

He thumbed through his contacts and found Jason. Perfect.

——

“I mean it, Tim is acting fucking weird,” Jason said, waving his hands dramatically in the air, “seriously, have any of you noticed?”

“Tim is always a little… yknow,” Steph said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Jason scoffed, hands on hips as he looked around, and found his saviour, “Cass back me up here, your whole shtick is that body language thing!”

It was Stephanie’s turn to scoff, “that’s not her ‘whole shtick’. She could kick all our asses! Blindfolded!”

Cass patted Steph lightly, smiling all the while, “haven’t seen little brother. He was too busy with case. Will check for you though.”

Jason was about the pull up the kitchen security footage when the very guy the meeting was dedicated to started calling.

“Speak of the devil,” Jason said, answering the call and deliberately putting it on loud speaker.

And holy shit did Tim sound like, well, shit, “Jason, could you… uh, please tell everyone I won’t be patrolling tonight, and apologise to Cass,” and then he let out the most guttural scream Jason had ever heard. Tim cleared his throat, “hn. Sorry about that, I… saw a spider. N-not the assassin kind! Don’t worry, I took care of that. Anyway, tell her I said sorry for skipping out on her tonight.”

The others looked suitably concerned now.

One or two mouthed ‘spider assassin’ to themselves.

Jason sighed, “why’d you scream baby bird?”

“Uh… spider?” Tim murmured dumbly.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose in such a similar fashion to Tim that it was almost disconcerting, “Tim, you love spiders.”

And if Tim had been well enough, he would have picked up on the fact that everyone was listening in to his conversation.

He was not well enough to pick up on that.

“Jason… did you go through puberty again. You sound masculine today,” Tim slurred.

Steph and Dick snorted.

“Ever the charmer, Timmy,” Jason said, but his gaze was intent on his family as he gestured to the phone intensely.

“Tim, do you need someone to come over?” Dick asked finally, his cheeriness false as he stared steadily, calculatedly, at the phone.

People never took Dick serious. That was a mistake.

“No! Don’t come over!” he said quickly, and then said something too quiet to hear.

Bruce mouthed something to Alfred and then Dick, ‘keep him on the phone’, and so Dick rattled on for a while while Bruce exited the cave quietly.

And man did they talk.

It felt like hours.

Until Dick just had to ruin it.

“How’s that case from yesterday coming along, Timmy?” Dick questioned. It was smart because Tim could talk about cases.

“Great! Yep, no problems, in and out of that lab no problemo. Easy peasy…”

It was dumb because Dick couldn’t keep his lectures to himself.

“Tim! You were meant to bring back-up for the lab!” Dick sighed, rubbing his temple.

“I didn’t actually call for a lecture and this is kinda dra-agging so I’m gonna go, see ya!”

The call ended.

“Nice one, Dickhead.”

“Shut up, Todd! Richard can’t help Drake being an utter fool.”

A loud ringing from the central computer was the only thing that stopped Jason from his swear-filled retort that would make Batman use his famous disappointed dad face.

Oracle silently answered the call back to the cave, watching as Batmans face flickered onto the screen. 

“I’ve just missed him,” his gravelly voice grumbled, “his apartment is in disarray.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Damian scoffed.

“No, it is.” He turned the camera so there was a clear shot of Tim’s safehouse.

“Fucking hell.”

The fridge and freezer were left open (the freezer door wasn’t even attached anymore) and there were cans of zesti torn open. Literally torn open . There were soggy nuggets mostly eaten and raw in small defrosted puddles on the floor. The table had no legs. There was a strange substance on the ceiling. A hole in the wall. And there was a splatter of vomit on the walls of the bathroom, some smears where Tim had tried to clean. Jason shivered. He struggled in Tim’s disorganised apartment at the best of times. This was another level.

Bruce paused at the shattered mirror. There was blood around the edges.

“Nightwing, Robin. Patrol as usual. I want the rest of us out looking for Tim. He may be suited up, his uniform is missing.”

“But Bruce-“ Nightwing started.

Batman ended the call.

——

Tim’s eyes rolled in his head uncomprehending. His head throbbed and his body ached. It seemed to be a minor head injury. After all, he could remember exactly how he had gotten it.

That creature had tossed him out of the window and he’d bashed his head on the way out. Tim tried to process his surroundings.

He blinked.

“Stop it!” Tim screeched as he was dragged through an alley. His nails were bloody and broken from where he had tried to claw himself free. He couldn’t even comprehend what he was freeing himself from.

There was black oozing tendrils (of goo? Slime?) that were wrapped around his legs and pulling him along. The voice inside his head from earlier was back, and he knew it wasn’t his own now.

It was deep, raspy, gravelly, grumbling and almost alien. It spoke directly into his mind. Telepathically? Maybe.

“Get off of me!” he shouted, and man was he grateful for his mask. He would not be able to use such a low (and hopefully intimidating) voice as Tim Drake.

Earlier, Tim had been delirious. He hoped it was enough that the others would come looking. He cringed at the idea of them checking his wrecked apartment.

He whacked the thing with his bo staff, to no effect. After several smacks, it grabbed his weapon and snapped it easily.

Oh god. That hadn’t even been his collapsible staff, it was the solid one.

They turned a corner and Tim lunged sideways for a lamppost, carefully smearing his blood down it.

“Get the hell off of me, you leech!”

Abruptly, it stopped. Tim barely had time to crumple to the floor before he was slammed into the brick wall.

His head made an awful sound against the wall but that was quickly forgotten when the black tendrils climbed up his body and cupped his wounded head. It sunk into his skin and… and the pain vanished.

What did you call me?

Tim gulped, “what do you want?”

You.

Tim shivered, feeling dangerously vulnerable up against the wall. The tendrils loosened.

“Why?”

You are a good match for me, Tim Drake. And your city is full of delicious meat.

“A match?” Tim questioned, trying to keep the curiosity from his voice. It was interesting. Terrifying, sure. But also incredibly interesting.

I cannot survive on this planet without a host. Without you. But not every human can match with me. It is like… an organ transplant.

“Fine. But I don’t understand why you took me from my home,” Tim muttered.

You weren’t safe. What is the rule here? No metas in Gotham. Your family was coming so I protected you.

“They wouldn’t care. Duke is a meta. And how do you know that, anyway?” Tim eyed the tendrils suspiciously.

Suddenly, the tenticles curled around his neck and a head formed in front of him. It had huge white eyes and rows and rows of awful teeth.

I am inside of you, Tim Drake. I know your thoughts, your desires, your fears. You don’t believe you are their family. You’re scared you have overstayed your welcome. You’re right. You have. When they discover what you are, they will throw you away. Like they did the last time.

“Get out of my mind!” Tim screamed, covering his entire head with his arms, and gritting his teeth.

Suddenly, he was dropped from the wall and the black ooze went back inside of himself, down, down, down. A shiver shook his entire body and he collapsed.

“Little brother?” a familiar voice called from somewhere close by. He couldn’t figure out who it was so he just said a loud, barely comprehensible greeting in the general direction.

His whole body was shivering by the time whoever had found him got there and they quickly swept him up and muttered something into their comms.

Quietly, he sighed in relief.

And knowing he was safe, Tim drifted off to sleep.

____

Jason pretended like he wasn’t waiting about for Tim to wake up. No one was buying it. Especially Cass, who gave him small smiles and maybe even a smug look as he lingered around the medbay.

Once the search was over, most of them had to finish patrol before they could see Tim. Cass, who had found him, had stuck around in the cave and helped Alfred.

“Master Tim will be waking up shortly. Please refrain from crowding him, you know he finds that most unpleasant.”

A few chorused assents later and they filed into the medbay, careful to stand away from the bed slightly. Cass was allowed to sit in the armchair beside Tim.

When Tim came to, he only opened his eyes when Cass whispered softly in his ear. He let out a breath and relaxed.

(They had all been trained to wake without moving or opening their eyes, so if they were captured they could collect information because people would talk while they thought you were unconscious.)

Tim cleared his throat and looked around the room uneasily, “hi guys, how was patrol?”

They looked at him, unimpressed.

Tim swung his legs off the bed, “I think I’m good to go.”

Jason stopped him immediately, his hand square on Tim’s shoulder, “yeah, no. You need to talk to us Timmy. Besides, you have a fever.”

“I’ve had worse,” Tim said primly.

“I fucking doubt that, this fever is really hi-“

“The Clench,” Tim grinned.

Jason squinted suspiciously, and when Tim looked at him innocently, he turned to Dick, who nodded. “That’s not something to be proud of, Tim.”

Tim shrugged, and manoeuvred around Jason’s hand all the while, and ducked out of the way, “yeah, my bad.”

Cass stopped him, not forceful like Jason, but rather with a questioning head tilt that left the choice to him.

He sighed, “yes, Cass?”

She smiled victoriously, fist bumping Stephs subtly, “you talked to someone? In the alley.”

Tim’s shoulders tensed up so minutely it would almost be unnoticeable. However, Jason had started to pick up on Tim-speak and he did have some tells. Cass also noticed.

“How much did you hear?” Tim asked warily.

Tim was clearly fishing so he wouldn’t have to reveal anything else. If it was Jason who had to answer the question, he would say ‘enough’ - simple, and it implied that you heard the incriminating evidence. However, Cass would never lie to Tim, even by omission.

“Get out of my mind,” she replied evenly, not betraying her feelings with the statement.

“And? What about it?”

“Sounds weird. Not good. You sounded scared, angry,” Cass murmured, her hands holding Tims steadily, her eyes focused on his.

“I had a strong impulsive thought stuck in my head…” Tim shrugged finally. How did Tim do that? He was such a good liar, it seemed to come natural to him. But Jason heard the recording from Cass and his voice had been too desperate to warrant such reaction over an ‘impulsive thought’.

Before Tim woke up, Dick had said pushing him wouldn’t help, it would only make Tim harder to reach. Tim was stubborn like that.

Dick was talking from experience though… and he looked sad.

Jason sighed, “right okay, how about you tell us about your lab case?”

And just like that, Tim had gotten away with it.

——

Venom felt…bad.

This match very much reminded him of, well, himself.

Back on his planet (comet?), Venom was a loser.

Only because he was smarter than his kind.

Sort of like this ‘Tim Drake’.

Venom was laughed at back on his planet, because he believed in committing to his host, rather than using them up (effectively killing them.)

Committing to a host is smart, if not a little difficult.

It was like the quest his host took to save Batman.

Tim was rejected by his peers and even his “family” for saying such things, and he had been right. All along.

There weren’t even any outright apologies.

But still, Venom felt bad.

This family were on a path to forgiveness. They had reconnected. The general unpleasantness and awkwardness had all but disappeared.

And yet, Venom was trying to split that up.

He had to, to survive.

What he had said to Tim about his family though, when they were alone in that alley… he felt bad.

His host was kind of cool.

Sarcastic. Smart. Compassionate. The list could definitely go on.

He was a good person.

Too good.

That was the problem.

This ‘no kill’ rule was the problem.

Which he had adopted from his mentor, Batman.

Which is why he needed to get him away from his family.

They were detectives. And well…

Venom could hear what Dick and Demon brat were saying to Batman.

About the maimed, armless victims they found.

And the headless corpse.

Venom needed to eat. He needed to kill to survive.

That is why he had knocked his host out on the window before leaving his apartment.

Because he did like his host.

And he knew his host would stop him.

What his host doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.

If he were to find out what Venom did tonight, he may try and remove Venom.

And Venom would die.

Perhaps Tim Drake wouldn’t be able to remove Venom because of his moral code?

Venom froze in his thoughts for a second.

Tim had said something.

“Repeat that.”

“I am going to stay with the Titans for a while.”

Jason snorted, “yeah, you just said that Timmy.”

And Venom reluctantly dived back into Tim’s very thoughts to see why.

He was uneasy about the why.

Tim was going to ask the Titans for strength training and general help with his powers.

He was going to talk to… Blue Beetle!

There were many thoughts about a Kon.

Wow, there was a lot to unpack there.

Venom would have to get back to it.

——

Tim smiled up at Titans Tower, bag over his shoulder, uniform packed neatly within.

Perhaps Venom was right about Batman and his no meta rule. Perhaps he really couldn’t ask him for his help.

But he could ask his friends.

Chapter Text

Kon did almost twenty laps of Titans Tower before finally taking the roof door (after several over-complicated passcodes, courtesy of their resident bat) and beginning his leisurely journey to the kitchen.

He paused at the fridge, frowning. Kons memory wasn’t anything special, not like Bart’s anyway, but he could’ve sworn it had a door handle.

Kon floated over to the bin, where the remains of said door handle were poorly hidden. It had been a while since his own strength had acted up, but who was he to judge?

He shrugged, prying open the fridge at the edge. Again, the corners of his lip tugged downwards. It was completely empty.

“Bart,” he shouted, though with no real heat behind it. “I didn’t think you’d be here until later,” he added with a laugh.

When there was no familiar whoosh of Bart’s entrance, Kon hummed to himself and extended his super-hearing.

The familiar ba dum ba dum of Tim’s heart filled his ears and all thoughts of the food conundrum slipped from his mind.

But where his food enquiries were forgotten, new questions rang through Kon. Tim was never this early to the Tower.

Don’t get him wrong, Tim was never late, but he certainly never beat Kon here. Kon worried his lip between his teeth for a moment before extending his hearing again, this time extending it beyond Tim’s heart.

Now that Kon properly stopped to listen, his breathing was slightly accelerated (Kon would know, he had Tims breaths memorised, was that weird?) and then he heard the way Tim’s hands viciously rubbed his head and he wasn’t really sure what to do with that information. But sometimes Kon did that when he had a headache.

A lightbulb went off in his head and he dashed back for the kitchen, grabbing a (bottled - because Tim didn’t trust tap water thanks to Gotham) water and paracetamol and promptly started his trek back to Tim’s room.

If he had flown there like he would have done normally, he may not have noticed that every single door handle had been snapped off.

This was getting weird.

Kon debated the pros and cons of knocking or barging in. He never usually knocked. And Tim never minded. In fact, he appreciated the company a lot recently. Tim would never admit it, but he had become much more tactile with Kon after ‘The Incident’ AKA Conners death.

And Kon found nothing wrong with that, though he felt mildly guilty about the possible ulterior motives he may have. He quickly squashed that down. Truthfully, honestly, crossing his heart, he swore that first and foremost, all he wanted to do was comfort Tim.

The closeness was just an added bonus.

And… yep, there was that guilty feeling again.

Because, and he wasn’t even fully sure when he figured it out, and he wasn’t particularly bothered to find out, he had fallen hopelessly head-over-heels in love with his best friend.

Bart knew. The brat had caught him looking at Tim’s triumphant I’ve-just-wiped-the-floor-with-you-at-Mario-Kart grin for an excessively long time. Though, Bart may have exaggerated because he felt time differently. Yeah! That had to be it. He totally wasn’t obvious about his… crush?

He had spent a lot of time with Bart since then, who begged him to just ask Tim out because he would definitely reciprocate.

Kon wasn’t so sure.

But maybe-

“Hey Kon, are you ever planning on barging in here, or do I have to wait another five minutes?” Tim’s voice rang through a speaker above the door, and, of course, he had a motion sensor.

Yep, just the teasing lilt of his friend’s voice sent a warm flush up Kons neck, thankfully stopping before it reached his face. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled up at the camera, “might make you wait another five,” he said playfully, trying to at least regain a little control of the conversation.

The shhhtick sound of Tim’s sliding door cracked through the air, and Kon wondered briefly if Tim would be oiling that later. The noise certainly wouldn’t help with stealth… though maybe he would climb through the vents instead, and totally dodge that noise.

Tim tilted his head at Kon thoughtfully but didn’t say anything as he stepped back and sat by his desk, already back to work.

Kon discarded the water and medicine on the table with a smile and watched as Tim smirked up at him, “using your super-hearing on me?”

Kon wasn’t sure if he imagined the way Tim seemed oddly intent on his answer, like he was fishing for something specific, but he just laughed, “only to see who was here, you’re not that interesting.”

“And yet, here you are,” Tim said, gesturing vaguely to his room while he continued typing up something on his laptop.

Kon just ruffled Tim’s hair, which was silky and so so soft, and yep, okay, getting off track.

“Was Bart here earlier? The fridge is completely empty!” Kon said, not picking up on Tim’s expression as he continued, “and you, too? You’re really early, what’s up with that?”

“No, why would Bart be here at this time? Not everyone is up at ridiculous-o’clock-in-the-morning, Farmboy.”

“Weird. The fridge was sparse as hell,” and Kon did not pick up on the fact that Tim had effectively distracted him from the question directed at him, “also, did you notice all the broken door handles?”

Tim hummed noncommittally.

Kon huffed. “What if there’s, like, an intruder Rob? You are surprisingly calm-“

“-if there was an intruder, you would also be considered ‘surprisingly calm’ right now. Besides, you would’ve heard the-“

-“okay, okay, I get it. But seriously, that’s weird, right? I don’t have problems with my strength anymore, and Cassie most certainly doesn’t.”

Tim scoffed, “you two aren’t the only ones with enhanced strength.”

Kon caught himself just before he pinched the bridge of his nose - because, that was Robs thing! He shook himself off, “yes, but you get the picture. No one struggles with their powers anymore.”

Tim stayed quiet, and Kon felt the need to find the solution for a change, yknow, lighten Robs load, “I think we should have a team meeting?”

Tim’s face snapped up to look at his, and Kon blinked at the emotion (that he couldn’t read) on his friend’s face, “no. They might be embarrassed, so maybe we should deal with this one by one.”

“Whatever ya say, Rob.”

——

Tim felt guilty.

He should’ve told Kon right there. It was just all the questions were too much and Kon had turned pink when Tim was teasing him, and what did that mean?

Tim knew what it meant. Kon had never shown any interest in Tim, no scratch that, had never shown any interest in any men. Tim was reading too much into things, like he always did.

Tim rubbed his temple, trying to shake off his inner-thought tangents. And the guilt smacked him again, because Kon was his bestfriend and he trusted him more than anyone and he should have told him in his bedroom.

He nearly had, and it was on the tip of his tongue for the longest time. He would start up and then cut himself off. But Venom, ever the most helpful parasite, had called him a pussy when he couldn’t get the words out.

He hadn’t tried again.

But he wanted Conner to know first. Wanted to show how much he trusted him.

Screw it.

“Kon!” he called from the roof. There was no cameras and no listening ears.

Conner appeared almost instantly, and Tim shot him a grateful smile, “hi, I need to tell you something.”

Kon squinted at his face suspiciously and then grabbed his hand, “are you okay?”

And if his heart rate increased because of Kons warm hand in his and not what he was about to say, well, nobody would know.

I would .

Tim gritted his teeth. Though he quickly stopped when he saw Conners worried expression, “I need to tell you something.”

Kon smirked, “you told me that already.”

He stared at Kons gentle and honest face, his long eyelashes-

-fucking spit it out already!

and angular cheekbones. The way his cornflour blue eyes reflected the summer sunlight and-

-you are, as the kids say, “down bad” for this one-

“-Would you just knock it off for five minutes,” he screamed at the voice, screwing his eyes shut angrily.

When he blinked them open again, Conner looked crushed, and confused and just -, “wait, Kon, I wasn’t talking to you,” Tim rushed, because it was now or never.

Kon looked skeptical. And still sad.

“I am the one who broke all those door handles. I went into a lab and I am infected with a parasite,” he ignored Venoms outraged shrieks, “and I have super strength and I heal fast and the parasite talks to me - that’s who I was shouting at - and I called for you up here because I wanted to tell you first because I trust you more than anyone and I would like your help. If you’re not mad at me…”

Yeesh. That was difficult to watch.

Kon froze, mouth agape and it looked like he couldn’t decide between happiness at the show of trust or horror at very disturbing fact of the literal parasite taking host in Tims body.

Finally, Kon said, “Bart gave me good practice with all his speed talking…” but when his joke didn’t hit, he moved closer, “are you okay, Tim?”

“I’m… I need your help. I can’t control my strength and I need to tell Bart and Cassie… and Jaime.”

“Why not everyone?”

“Raven and Gar are closer to my brother, they would tell him.”

Kon stared, wide-eyed, “you haven’t told your family? Is that why you’re here early?”

Tim nodded, “no metas in Gotham. I am a meta, sort of. Once I learn control I can hide it, but until then…”

Kon frowned, “you know they wouldn’t care, right?”

Tim felt his heart rate pick up again and Kon immediately shook his head, “I would never tell them without your permission. I promise.”

Tim released a shaky breath and wrapped his pinky around Kons, and smiled. “Thank you, Kon.”

Kon pulled him into a hug, and Tim was stuck between being very happy and very annoyed as Venom whispered teasing shit in his ear.

“Can I… can you show me what you can do?”

Tim nodded, putting his hands squarely on Kons chest (and he ignored every feeling he had about that ) and pushed.

Conner was pushed several metres before he skidded to a stop and he immediately whistled appreciatively. If Tim had his regular strength, Kon wouldn’t have even budged.

At the end of the day though, he was still Kryptonian so he didn’t go flying or anything particularly impressive.

Still, Kon whistled appreciatively.

Tim had to valiantly ignore what that did to him.

I have never met a human so susceptible to getting ‘butterflies’ Venom harrumphed, but his tendrils snaked under Tim’s shirt and surprisingly helped by ridding him of the feeling.

Tim almost said thank you. Almost .

You’re welcome.

Tim considered how he could show off his super healing. On the one hand, Kon could take his word for it. On the other hand, it would be a good experiment for Tim to conduct anyway, and it’s not like he was going to hurt himself badly.

Tim fingered the batarang in his pocket thoughtfully, making eye contact with Kon as he brandished it.

And, yeah, Conner was not impressed.

“Tim,” he sighed, snatching the blade before Tim could even comprehend him moving.

Damn super speed.

“Kon, come on! It’ll be tested later regardless when I accidentally get injured. It’s no big deal, it won’t even be deep. I can’t exactly show you on missions because people will notice if I start healing quickly.”

Kon sighed again, shaking his head.

“It will not even be a centimetre long!”

Kon relented, “fine. But I’m not happy and I’m only agreeing because you’d just do it by yourself to ‘test your limits’ or some shit.”

“You know me so well,” Tim grinned, gently pressing the batarangs edge to his palm, then wiping it with an antiseptic wipe. It never got old watching Conners face when he pulled random shit out of his belt.

The black gooey stuff bubbled up just above his wound, and just as quickly disappeared, the blood and cut gone.

Kon looked mildly alarmed. “That looks… alien.”

“Yep.”

“Jeez Tim.”

“I know,” Tim murmured, closing his eyes briefly under Kons watchful gaze, sinking into his arms again.

——

Kon scuffed his feet along the fluffy rug that Tim had insisted weeks ago they didn’t need , toeing the burn marks with his boot. Why was Tim so smart? He was too smart! For his own good. ‘We can’t buy this super cool, super fun rug because Bart will definitely burn it when he runs too fast on it.’

Kon hated it when Tim was right.

But he also loved it.

Again, Kon ran his foot along the burn. He realised it was probably a nervous gesture. Tim had said he was going to finish off his work and then they would tell the others (that being Bart, Cassie and Jaime) together.

Tim probably wouldn’t appreciate what he was going to do right now.

But, sue him! Kon was maybe just a teensy bit protective of Tim ever since he came back to life. One, Tim had probably grieved more people in the past year than some people did in a lifetime. Two, Tim had been particularly devastated by Kons death, and just the fact that Conner could help with this just by being there made it a no-brainer! He loves his best friend and he wants him to be happy.

Bart was surprisingly (yes he had super speed but also that never stopped any of them from being late) the first to arrive and he skirted around the outside of the rug, careful to prevent any further proving Tim right. Cassie still arrived five minutes earlier than scheduled.

And Kon didn’t invite Blue Beetle - not because he didn’t like him or anything, it was just because he needed the closeness of his first real family.

“You two still had five minutes,” he said, eyeing the clock above the door. They were in one of the meeting rooms, and it had one of those cool oval shaped tables that Kon wasn’t sure how they’d managed to fit through the door…

Anyway!

“You have never called a meeting in your life, Conner. Perhaps, we were worried,” Cassie said, cocking her hip and smiling at him playfully.

“Wheres Tim? Is this about Tim? Is it about how you lo-“ Bart was cut off by a heavy nudge from Cassie, who looked at him intently.

[Later, Cassie will scold him for the near slip-up. ‘Conner will come to us when he’s ready to confess his feelings about Tim. Stop trying to speed it along Bart!’ and Bart will have to relent and watch his two best friends pine over each other hopelessly for what feels like decades, centuries etc etc and of course Conner is totally unaware of this interaction despite his super-hearing]

“What’d you say, Bart? I didn’t catch that last bit?” Conner said, frowning at Cassie.

“He said nothing important!” blurted Cassie. “Shall we get back on track, what’s this about?”

“Bart was right. This is about Tim,” Kon ignored the cheer and fist pump from Bart, “it’s really important and you guys need to not tell him what I’m telling you.”

Bart was vibrating for some odd reason, which could be from excitement or nervousness… hopefully, it was the latter because he thought he was conveying the correct amount of seriousness.

“Tim told me something today, and we are going to tell you guys about it together later, okay?” Bart started vibrating faster, Kon ignored it, clearing his throat, “but it’s kind of shocking and I don’t want you guys to freak him out by freaking out. So, don’t be… crazy when we tell you later. Please.”

Because even though Tim didn’t seem all that bothered earlier when they were talking, he might’ve - in fact, was definitely - channeling his creepy bat no-feelings to stay calm. After all, he had a freaking alien inside of him! Which was not something you could just be casual about! Not even Tim.

Bart nodded eagerly, and then nudged Cassie as he wiggled his eyebrows, and said something that sounded suspiciously like, “it’s about time they told us.”

Kon frowned but decided to leave it.

Bart had always been a little strange.

“Seriously, don’t freak out.”

Tim didn’t need everyone else stressing him out anymore than he already was - if his tense shoulders and rigid jaw were any indicator.

Kon would help him.

“We promise we won’t freak out,” Cassie recited, nudging Bart until he said the same.

Kon nodded, then frowned when his super hearing picked up on footsteps, “act natural.”

Cassie, ever the angel, immediately slouched from her serious gait and leant more casually against a chair. Bart, well, he tried.

Tim didn’t bother waiting until he rounded the door before he started talking, which would normally suggest he was in a hurry, but he sounded amused, “it’s a good thing I installed more cameras. I would’ve never thought to check in here for you guys. I thought we agreed on some… unsavoury words that described this meeting room.”

Cassie shrugged faux-innocently, “we changed our minds. Is something happening?”

Tim raised an eyebrow, his mouth opening and then closing (no doubt as he decided better than to insult Cassie), and deadpanned, “I’d be in gear and acting a lot more serious if there was an alien invasion.”

“Alright, you want us to watch over SF while you go out for a bit?” Cassie said, surveying Tim’s outfit smugly.

Because yeah, now that Kon looked, it was pretty obvious Tim was going out for a bit.

For one, he had those stupid sunglasses on he used to use to hide his face from them.

He had his hair tied back. Kon tried not to acknowledge how his face heated up and his stomach did flips.

And he was wearing baggy trousers and a tight black shirt that was mostly hidden under an indigo bomber jacket. They were all worn to hide the appearance of muscles.

Well, not that T-shirt. He could very clearly see Tim’s abs.

His eyes darted away quickly.

“I’m grocery shopping. Alfred keeps saying I should do it more, and I need the air, so… what do you guys want?”

He pulled a pen and paper as if from no where and handed it to them.

“Thanks, Tim!” Bart cheered, snatching the pen and writing about fifty things down. “You’re the best!”

Cassie scrunched her nose up at the items on the list, biting down on the lid of the pen contemplatively, “Tim, we are going to have to talk to the team about looking after the building. An entire floors worth of doors are broken upstairs.”

Tim cleared his throat, his breathing manual as he did his calming bat-techniques to keep his voice even, “I’ve already sorted that.”

Cassie hummed, scribbling on the list before she handed it to Conner. “Thanks.”

“Y’know what, Tim? I’ll come with. Don’t want you getting distracted,” Kon said pointedly, glancing over at the other two in clear accusation.

Kon was not stupid. Tim probably did need to go shopping. Especially for more food. But… there was ways around actually having to go out.

One thing Tim was exceptionally good at was dodging his personal, non-work-related problems and letting them… fester. (He dealt with cases and his work with disturbing efficiency)

So Kon was fairly certain he would avoid talking to Cassie and Bart.

Tim frowned, letting the sunglasses slip down his nose a little so he could peer over them at Kon, “you better be ready in two minutes or I’m leaving without you.”

Tim waved and left, thankfully missing the way he left Kons mouth agape and his cheeks flushed. If Kon ever got to admit how he felt, and Tim reciprocated, and everything worked out, then he would be lending Rob his 90s shades and making him do that again.

Okay… so that would never happen.

After another five seconds, he finally managed to stutter out a, “pshh, like I’d need two minutes!”

He raced out after him, changed at super speed into civilian clothes and to prove a point, zipped past Tim in the hallway.

——

Tim perched on the walls of the shopping trolley, his feet planted amongst the food they had piled up already.

Not enough.

The frozen meat by his ankles had him chilled out (hah) enough that he didn’t jump when the creature inside him talked.

Need more.

“I can’t eat anymore chicken nuggets,” Tim sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing them roughly with his palms, “it’s processed crap.”

I have no idea how I managed to bond with you of all people.

Kon had politely chosen to ignore the half conversation, looking at the shopping list intently and dumping stuff into the cart.

“I’d thought you could be grateful after literally hijacking my body and making me eat raw food and giving me concussions. Asshole.”

I am punished enough having to watch you stumble through life like a moron.

“You are the worst. Why couldn’t I have gotten a nice parasite?”

Before he could even comprehend what happened, he had flipped off the cart and face-planted the floor. That foreign feeling of cold slime being reabsorbed into his body returned and he frowned-

“You can’t use your… limbs in public!” Tim hissed, looking down angrily.

“Dude, are you okay?” Kon said, hauling him up by the underarms and brushing him off, keeping a grip on his shoulders as he looked into Tim’s eyes, “Tim?”

I am not a parasite. I will be your return to greatness. It would be wise for you to be grateful.

Tim blinked until his vision cleared and he looked up at Kon gratefully.

Loser.

“Thanks for coming with,” Tim whispered, hip nudging Kons as he took over the trolley and started pushing.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Kon said, eyebrows furrowed as Tim cleared out an entire freezer worth of chicken nuggets.

——

The ride back was quiet.

Tim’s bike hummed pleasantly and the backroads were peacefully quiet.

Kon melted impossibly closer into Tim, his arms wrapped snuggly around his waist.

The symbiote had quietened down as it slept. At least, that’s what Tim had said was going on.

It did make sense. Everyone needed sleep.

Well… not everyone. Superman didn’t. Kryptonians in general didn’t.

Not the point!

Tims body language had calmed and the tension had released from his back.

They went to bed with matching goofy smiles.

——

Apart from the fact that Tim had successfully managed to avoid the conversation with Cassie and Bart, the day had been a success.

Kon had earned Tim’s trust. He knew long ago that they would do anything for each other but it’d never felt so real.

Everything had gone well.

That should’ve been a very clear indication that something was about to go horribly wrong.

——

Tim’s hoarse screams woke him and he immediately expanded his hearing to the entirety of the Tower all while he forced his uniform on at an alarming speed.

Gar, Raven and Jaime had gone home, choosing to go ‘on call’ instead of hanging out around the Tower.

Bart was in his room, snoring loudly.

Cassie was on the roof, the wind whipping through her hair and a fierce battle cry ripping from her throat as she fought.

Tim’s scream came from the roof. In fact, the frantic beating heart of Cassies opponent sounded very familiar .

“Shit!”

He launched himself into Bart’s room, grabbing a fistful of oversized shirt as he thundered up to the roof.

“Gahh! Conner!” Bart mumbled, rubbing his eyes casually, “I was having a good dre- what’s that noise?”

Within a flash, he was in uniform and through the door to the roof.

Kon chased after him and reeled back as he took in the scene. Tim, or ‘Venom’ was exchanging punches with Cassie, who was obviously winning.

But that creature… was nothing like he had ever seen before.

It certainly wasn’t Tim.

It shared no resemblance whatsoever.

It stood over 7 foot tall for one thing.

Kon hadn’t even known this was possible. He had thought the odd black tendrils were the extent of the alien. But it seemed to have an entire transformation.

“Tim!” Kon shouted from across the roof.

“I need real fucking food!” the beast screamed, and he opened his chest cavity up and smacked a kicking and clawing, boxer-shorts-clad Tim unconscious.

Cassie, Bart and Kon all froze.

Their eyes widened.

And then they lunged.

Chapter Text

One moment, he felt nothing at all. And the next, an explosion of colour burnt his corneas. Reflexively, his eyes rolled back against the light. The ground rumbled beneath his feet and his perception of the world felt odd.

For one thing, he was taller.

He stumbled a little and involuntarily let out an awful growl that reverberated through his chest. Before he could grasp what was happening, his feet were swiped out from beneath him and a distant but familiar shout echoed through his ears. It sounded like he was underwater.

Blinking dazedly, Tim moved to rub his eyes and frowned when his arm didn’t react.

What happened last night?

Wait, it was still dark.

All he managed was the twitch of his fingers but that tore another uncontrollable screech from his lips. Weird.

“Tim! Tim is waking up!” a familiar voice shouted, sounding oddly desperate and hoarse.

Alarm bells were vaguely ringing in his head.

He still felt disoriented, but he more forcefully squinted his eyes. A black shiny fist glanced through the air and made him jolt in horrifying realisation. With a great deal of willpower, he forced his gaze down to follow the arm up to where it originated.

Like he feared, it was him.

Well shit.

An alien had control of his body. He was in the middle of some sort of fight. And this definitely wasn’t the way he had wanted to tell Bart and Cassie about his… parasite.

The fist connected and he reeled back, dumbstruck, as it threw Kon several feet up in the air. Against Tim’s will, his mouth was compelled to smile as Conner pinwheeled comically through the air.

He was pretty sure Venom said something taunting, and Tim was relieved he couldn’t hear whatever it was that he was saying.

Tim couldn’t make Venoms mouth open to scream, and his brain went fuzzy when he tried to find his own voice. His body was inside Venoms somewhere, disconnected and unfeeling. He forced his own mouth to cry out Kons name.

His leg (well Venoms leg) kicked at Cassie in her momentary distraction. Desperately, he outstretched his hand to her — his own hand.

With one arm free, he grasped at Venoms chest and ripped with all his might.

The pain was immediate.

Tim reached for more. And pulled. And pulled.

Strands of Venom came loose as Tim tore through his body, reaching higher still to free his face. Cool air tickled his cheek and he scrunched his eyes closed against the thrum of Bart’s lightning and the fire of Cassies lasso.

That gave him an idea…

Venom had briefly mentioned his disdain for flames. And Cassies lasso happened to be imbued with the Fire of Hestia. Perhaps it could contain Venom…

Tim certainly couldn’t . Tim certainly couldn’t until he learnt control from Jaime.

For every bit of Venom he pulled off, the goo simply reabsorbed back through his bare skin. Perhaps if he had been wearing clothes — or his gloves at least.

But nope, just in his underwear.

That was just his luck.

The pain returned tenfold when he ripped at a particularly large tendril, all of his nerve endings burning. Venom screamed too. Mostly too fast for Tim to understand, but he definitely heard some strong language.

Knees buckling, Venom retreated back inside him, and he was only given a moment to adjust before his stomach churned pitifully. Less than gracefully, Tim lunged for the side of the roof.

It had been a while since he felt so pathetic.

With Bart zipping to Tim’s side to hold his hair back and nothing but the quiet whistle of the wind to silence his gags, it was shaping up to be a pretty crappy night.

Now I am even more hungry. Thanks.

Tim’s face scrunched up in disbelief, “you sound like a petulant child. I wouldn’t have been sick if you hadn’t thrown a tantrum!”

You are mine. I can do what I want.

“You — no, you can’t!” Tim practically growled, wiping his mouth clean with one hand and patting Bart gratefully with the other. He got a concerned look in return and Tim groaned, “come out and speak so I don’t sound crazy!”

If you insist-

“Just your head! I am not having a repeat of tonight.”

You are no fun , the voice said. That cold feeling returned at the base of Tims neck as the creature more-forceful-than-necessary extended its neck and head until they were face to face.

“Why can’t we just have a nice conversation? Your behaviour is counterproductive. I can help if you would just tell me what’s going on,” Tim muttered, ignoring the questions from his friends.

“The less you know, the better. I am protecting you from the truth,” Venom snapped, and then quieter, he added, “like you could help anyway, you can’t even feed me properly.”

Before he could think better of it, Tim lunged at the head, punching it with all his strength, “are you kidding me right now! You are so selfish! If I knew how to safely remove you, I would!” Tim stood, crossing his arms over his bare chest irritably, “I need to get back to that lab…”

Kon appeared in front of him, clamping both his hands on Tims shoulders, “dude, you said you can’t go back to Gotham until you learn to control it!”

“Yeah, but-“

“What the hell is going on!” Cassie cut in, rubbing at her temple.

Tim sighed with more dramatics than strictly necessary, “I have an alien parasite. It’s a long story.”

“Did you contract this parasite in the lab you want to go back to?” Bart asked quickly before disappearing with a flash and reappearing holding clothes, “you’re going to say yes to my question and I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back there. Let’s-figure-this-out-together!”

Tim found it very hard to say no to Bart. He couldn’t explain it. Sighing, Tim said, “we can’t solve this without going back there.”

Kon let out a long-suffering sigh of his own, “we will go together. Tomorrow . You are going to eat something now and go to bed. One of us will make sure the alien doesn’t try and go off with your unconscious body.”

“It’s a useless body anyway!” Venom harrumphed snottily.

Tim opted to ignore that, instead turning his gaze to Cassie, whose hand was on her hip so tightly he’d be surprised if it didn’t leave a finger-shaped bruise, “Cassie?”

“I don’t think I have ever felt so much concern for one person in my entire life. You need to get your act together, Tim,” she said, her eyes glistening with angry tears, “you went off by yourself, again , to some lab! You could’ve died. You are lucky this thing inside you isn’t lethal!”

Truthfully, Tim’s only regret over what he did back when he was trying to prove that Bruce was alive was leaving Cassie to lead the Titans alone while they were both grieving. The two of them were the only ones left from Young Justice. And he left her by herself.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for that.

“I’m sorry, Cassie. I… I don’t know what to say. I can’t change what I did back then but I promise I will be better. I won’t do this again.” He held her hands in his, looking up into her eyes meaningfully, “I…”

Cassie squeezed his hands in hers, then prodded him in the chest, again, a little harder than necessary, “you are going to ask for help when you need it. No more one-man-missions to deserts and secret alien-infested labs.”

Rolling his eyes, Tim muttered, “I didn’t know it was alien-infested at the time.”

“Promise us, Tim!” they all said in unison.

It surprised a laugh out of him, “okay, okay. ‘No more one-man-missions to deserts and secret alien-infested labs,’” he recited.

“Bleugh! Your friendship sickens me. Let’s eat!” Venom ordered, forcing Tim’s legs to move towards the roofs access door. Tim let out a small yelp of surprise and tried to pull away.

Venom was faster this time.

Immediately, he was flipped upside down, the air being knocked out of his lungs as he landed on his back.

“I am getting tired of being manhandled. You are using my body!” Tim said, propping himself up on his elbows. The shiny metal at Cassies hip reminded him of his earlier train of thought, “Cassie, I don’t think you’re going to like this but I did have an idea earlier.”

“Tim, I never like your ideas,” she exhaled.

Tim snorted, giving Venom a nasty side-eye before reaching out for her lasso, “may I?”

She frowned, then shrugged.

As soon as his hand connected with the golden metal, his whole body seized up, along with Venom, who also began convulsing.

Stars burst behind his eyelids and an unforgiving stabbing sensation shot up his spine.

He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he blacked out.

——

Kon thumbed through Instagram half-heartedly, listening to the steady thump of Tim’s heartbeat. For once, Tims brow wasn’t furrowed and he actually looked relaxed.

Not that that would last long.

He was not going to be happy about the tests they ran.

Bart had done most of it. Reading the entire San Francisco library had certainly been helpful. Medically speaking.

That’s not to say he was going to blame Bart!

It had been Cassie’s idea. And Tim can’t exactly be upset with Cassie after he upset her.

Cassie could and would smack him around though if he was wrong and Tim did get mad at her.

No one liked when Tim was mad at them.

Cassie’s groan cut through the silence, “Kon, I can hear you thinking. That’s Tim’s thing. Stop.”

“He’s gonna be mad with us,” he whined, pocketing his phone and watching Tim’s face again. The wind had left Tims hair looking, well, windswept. And beautiful. He looked like he came straight from a painting. The black strands of his hair were spiked up (bedhead) and it made Kon vaguely reminiscent of their Young Justice days.

It was a good thing Tim didn’t have access to gel anymore.

Not that Tim didn’t look good with the spikes, he definitely did (so so so much) but Kon preferred the softness, and the length of it like this.

What Kon was trying to get at was that Tim couldn’t have a bad hair day.

“You are so smitten. Ugh, it’s cute,” Cassie winked, shoving Bart when he wiggled his eyebrows evocatively.

Cursing his half-humanness when his cheeks turned red, Kon spluttered, “we aren’t — that’s not — I’m not!”

“Chill, dude. You look like a tomato. We know about you and Tim so we can skip the denial, okay? I-know-you-wanted-to-tell-us-together-but-I’ve-been-waiting-ages-for-this,” Bart nearly squealed, the last part barely comprehensible at the speed with which he said it.

Kon felt his eyes widen, and he vaguely wondered how stupid he must look to other people, “me and Tim are not together.”

He grumbled it with more defeat than he cared to admit to.

Within a blink, Bart was in front of him, his hands squishing Kons cheeks and his eyes close to his, “you’re kidding! Tell me you’re joking right now,” he said, practically, swinging off of Kons face.

Like the angel he is, Tim interrupted with an increase of his heart monitor, and Kon quickly leapt to his feet, grabbing Tim’s hand, “he’s waking up!”

Bart gave him a look that suggested that that conversation very much wasn’t over.

Cassie huffed out a sigh of relief, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled, “Thank Hera! The Bats are nearly here. Tim would hate if he was asleep when they got back.”

If he wasn’t half-kryptonian, he probably would’ve given himself whiplash from the speed with which he looked up at her, “what?!”

Bart froze at his tone and Cassie nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, “what?”

Kon fiddled with the pale hand of Tim, scrunching his nose, “he begged me not to tell them about his… problem. What did you say?”

Cassie exhaled, “I’m not stupid. I knew he wouldn’t tell them,” she lowered her voice into the growl Tim uses as Red Robin, “‘I don’t need anyone’s help.’”

“What did you say?”

“I said he wouldn’t be coming home on Monday. I should’ve known the bats would be suspicious though…”

“It’s fine. An easy mistake to make,” Kon whipped his head around to face Tim, who had somehow managed to free his hand from Kons grip and pulled on trousers without alerting any of them he was awake at all. “But we need to move.”

“How do you do that, man!” Kon inhaled, exasperated.

“Practise.” Tim swung his legs off the bed, grabbing the clothes by the side. The splenectomy scar had mostly faded now, but even just looking at it made most people flinch. Kon included. He hadn’t been there for his friend, granted he was dead for a while. Cassie  couldn’t even look at it, turning away while Tim began buttoning up a shirt, throwing a red jumper over the top. Once he was done, he started tapping on his wristwatch.

“When did you send that message?” Tim asked, still engrossed by the hologram as he swiped through the tower cameras.

“Literally five minutes ago,” Cassie said, pursing her lip.

“I need all of those blood tests you did to be destroyed or taken with us. The bats won’t hesitate to snoop,” that was all the order that Bart needed and he zipped off, while Kon was still reeling over the the fact that Tim had figured out what they had done.

When Tim saw his face, he gave a rather unimpressed raise of one eyebrow, “we’re in the medbay. Of course I was going to figure out you went prying.” Despite his expression, his voice was soft and quietly warm.

Maybe he did appreciate it.

Tim was odd. And hard to read.

“If they have taken the bat-jet —“ Kon sniggered, and Tim stuck his tongue his out before continuing, “they will be here in a couple of hours. We need to pack up some essentials and then get outta here.” Tim hesitated, biting his lip, “but seriously, I know you guys have other things you could be doing. I dont want you to feel like you have to come if you don’t want to.”

Kon, Bart and Cassie all groaned in sync.

“How can someone be so smart and so stupid at the same time. Of course we want to help,” Cassie muttered, rolling her eyes.

Bart blurred briefly and was already packed, his civilian clothes covering his suit and his sunglasses low on his nose, “Tim. We’re a team, a family.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” Kon said, clapping Tim’s shoulder and dragging him in close. Cassie waited for Tim’s face to be properly buried in Kons shoulder before she pretended to be sick.

Kon stuck his middle finger up in return.

With all the maturity of Bart, she smooshed her hands together, making crude kissing motions and quiet smooching sounds.

Not quiet enough though.

Kon actually felt Tim’s eyebrows raise against his body at the noise and when he pulled away to see what Cassie was doing, Kon spun him around and announced, “are we ready, then?”

Tim looked up at him, eyebrow raised, eyes squinted as he observed him. If Kon didn’t know better, he would have definitely started fidgeting. “Uh, no… I need to pack, remember?”

“Ri-i-ight,” Conner drawled, smacking Tim’s back playfully. He was about to shove him towards his room (and away from this conversation which Cassie had totally ruined) when Tim froze.

Instead of answering their shared concern, Tim pulled up his hologram and expanded it. The image wasn’t of the Tower - or even San Francisco.

It was Gotham.

It had a strange energy signature moving fast.

Bart gasped, “Batman just called for a super-taxi!”

Tim nodded, the only acknowledgment they got before he plunged the room into darkness. Which was fine for Kon, what with his supersenses — and then he turned on the white-noise maker and he may as well have been deaf. Tim frowned, “sorry Kon.”

Kon waved his hand dismissively, “it’s okay.”

Well, it could’ve been better. A warning would’ve been nice. But no matter, he couldn’t be mad at Tim. Even when he was reckless and was the main reason behind his stress. At this current time, at least.

He could definitely get into a butt-load of his own stresses he has - most notably his identity issues. But that really didn’t matter much right now.

“Cassie, I know you definitely have your own problems you need to deal with. Do that, please, and then go to this address in Gotham,” Tim said, and he showed them an address on a piece of paper. “We cannot use any technology while we are lying low. Oracle will be able to find us. Speaking of tech, Bart could you check all of the towers defences and make sure they are in order. A perimeter check would be good too.” Bart zipped off too.

“And you have the most important job of us all,” Tim said, smiling with faux-innocence, “carrying all of our luggage to our temporary new home.”

“I’m only chauffeuring if I get to carry you princess-style,” Kon huffed playfully, already looping one bag over his shoulder as he reached the door.

“Deal,” Tim laughed, waving him off with a wink so surprising that Kon was nearly sent tumbling through the air.

(Okay, it did send him tumbling through the air)

With his heart fluttering sporadically in his chest, and his stomach swimming with butterflies, Kon did not notice anything amiss with Tim.

It totally slipped his attention that Tim hadn’t given himself a task…

——

Kon sighed as Tim checked the mini white-noise generator on his uniform again.

They were flying over the ocean, cautiously (ridiculously) slow moving to prevent detection. Bart and Cassie had each respectively made it to the safehouse, something Kon only knew about because of Tim’s heavily encrypted alarm systems and computer-y stuff.

It had been a close call back at the Tower. Batman and Superman had landed not long after they had set off.

Tim had been staring at Kons face for what felt like hours but was no longer than a minute or so when he finally said, “thanks for having my back, Kon.”

Before Kon could think to stop himself, he tucked a lock of Tim’s hair behind his ear, “I will always have your back.”

Tim smooshed his face into the nook of Conner’s neck, “thank you. I… don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Normally, when things got particularly sappy, they resolved it with insults, humour and smart comments. Kon could respond with something along the lines of ‘you could try clone me 99 times’ but he had a feeling that Tim still felt terribly guilty about that.

Which was weird. It should be Kon that was so upset. He was a little bit. But he knew Tim. And it wasn’t his way of saying ‘you are replaceable’, ‘you are just a clone’ etc. It was his way of coping with the grief. Finding solutions. Solving problems. And Tim did regret it. He’d even said he’d knew it wouldn’t have actually been Kon. It had all been a desperate attempt to bring back some semblance of normality to his life.

Tim was weird. Lovably weird.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you either.”

Tim sighed into his chest, peeking up at Kon through his bangs. The blue-grey of his eyes darkened with the fading of the sun light, but they still shone with happiness. Kon could tell because his smile reached his eyes, the corners crinkling lightly.

Kon had to stop staring. “This safehouse of yours better not be like your others.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Tim said innocently.

“How can one human be so messy?”

Tim gasped dramatically, “how could you say that?” A playful shove to the chest, and his newly heightened strength sent them tumbling through the air.

Somehow they had managed to end up with Kon on his back, and Tim laid on top of him. Kon wrapped his TTK protectively around their bodies. There would be no swimming in the ocean for Tim.

Tim went an impressive shade of red, “I guess I  still need to work on strength control.”

They kept up a friendly banter all the way until Gotham, the sunsetting behind them as they flew back under the clouds.

Everything seemed to be finally looking up.

Maybe it would be easier than they initially thought.

Chapter Text

Dick sighed into his hands. It was already shaping up to be a long night. Batman had left in a hurry, the vague southern drawl of Clark bleeding through the cave just before they both took off.

A flair of meta human activity had blinked up all across the bat-radar not long after. They suspected it was Bart sending his speed-scouts through to jumble it up. It had worked.

Oracle devised a map of suspected safehouses that potentially belong to Tim. She had already hacked into his known ones and knew he wasn’t in those. The suspected areas Babs had gathered were purely hunches based on information Tim mentioned off hand in previous conversation.

Not everyone was in agreement on the accuracy of the information.

Steph didn’t want to do something on a hunch. Cass hadn’t been fussy so long as they were out searching. Jason had his crime-lord business to attend to. Damian didn’t exactly have the highest stakes in this, even if he and Tim were getting on better these days.

Dick didn’t know what to do.

It was rare when none of them could agree on a plan. They had long since learned how to work together.

Dick just wanted to have something to show for tonight. More importantly, something to give to Bruce. He was taking it harder than he was letting on.

“Any updates, Oracle?” Dick said, steepling his fingers together, the rhythmic clang of Damian’s throwing knives making an odd background noise.

“He’s avoiding technology like it’s the plague,” Barbara said, the steady clickety-clack of her keyboard drifting through the room. She sighed, “Dick, you should sleep. You’re no help to anyone like that.”

“I can’t. He’s out there somewhere.”

“He has his friends. It’s Tim. He’s more than capable of dealing with whatever has happened.”

“He shouldn’t have to, though,” Dick stressed.

Barbara paused her typing, her eyes blinking up on the screen and squinting a little, “Dick. Take a nap before patrol, you’re brain won’t work if you’re tired. By the time you wake up, I should’ve recovered the deleted tower footage.”

Dick shot up, “Bruce has spoken to you?”

Barbara nodded evenly.

“And?”

Babs gave him an unimpressed look. “Get some sleep. You will get a debrief tonight.”

The screen blinked into blankness and the cave went dark. Immediately, Dick slumped over the table, his hand firm on his phone.

Tim might call.

They had worked things out, right?

They had scheduled train surfing for some time in the next few weeks.

Tim still laughed and joked like usual.

There was no bad blood between them.

Right?

Dick clenched then unclenched his fists, combing his fingers through his hair impatiently. Thinking like that wasn’t helping. He needed something, anything, to take his mind off of Tim.

Silently, he rolled his desk chair to a separate monitor, eyeing the most recent murder case. Three dead. All criminals. All beheaded. It had been very difficult not to have a sneaky look in Jason’s direction. While Dick knew it obviously wasn’t Jason, the head thing had been kinda his thing back when he was (more) angsty.

Unfortunately, the heads hadn’t been neatly gathered in a duffel bag and dropped on their doorstep. In fact, there was a startling lack of evidence. No recognised DNA traces. No camera footage. No witnesses. There wasn’t even a blood trail that could suggest where they had ran off to with the heads.

It had happened around the time and place Tim was when he had been found… feverish and delirious.

And he was back to thinking about Tim again…

Although, now that he thought about it — yes.

Tim was unlikely to come out just to talk about his personal stuff.

BUT—

If it was about a case…

Tim probably wouldn’t have noticed anyone suspicious while he had been sick. And seriously, who could? He had looked really bad when he had been in the medbay. He hadn’t even been able to distinguish voices when he had called them during that meeting, which felt so long ago now.

However, Dick could still ask him if he’d seen anything, and Tim would be compelled to respond and then boom! Communications would be open once more.

Tim would never turn his emergency comm off. This was an emergency, right? It would have to be. After all, the entire reason they hadn’t started with his emergency comm was because Tim’s trust was a hard-won thing.

No one wanted to betray that trust. It would only make the situation worse. They didn’t want a ‘boy who called wolf’ problem on their hands either. So the emergency had to be real.

A serial killer was pretty serious.

And would definitely lure Tim out.

Dick swirled in his spinny chair, scratching his chin before pulling out a notepad and pen. He’d need to word it carefully.

——

Crrrrckk-

Another plate shattered between Tims fingertips, the shards clattering to the floor and breaking into even more tiny pieces. Venom swung the sweeping brush haphazardly with a stray tendril, swiping it under the table with the rest of the plates. Tim sighed.

Strength training was going about as well as you’d expect, considering the circumstances.

Despite the plate remains hidden under the table, the safehouse was surprisingly organised and tidy. Especially considering it was one of his older places from his earlier days as Robin.

At least, that’s what Tim had said. Kon noticed the sad look in his eye even while he smiled to himself as he ran his hand along the sofa cushions upon arriving. Nostalgia, probably. It was a bittersweet feeling. One Kon knew all too well. Even if he hadn’t actually been alive for that long.

Tim looked much happier now though. Even if his brows were furrowed and his tongue was poking out from his lips in concentration.

Bart handed him another plate.

When Tim looked down, he yelped, redoubling his concentration even as his eyes widened. “Someone take it off of me,” he talked ten to the dozen, and Kon stopped Bart before he could help. “This is Alfred’s china!”

When no one helped, he looked up at Cassie pleadingly, “I cannot break this!”

Kon smiled, patting him on the shoulder, “you won’t.”

“I might!” Tim said as he tiptoed through the plate shards that Venom missed, quickly but carefully putting the plate on the side. As soon as he was free from Alfred’s crockery, he heaved a huge sigh and pointed a disapproving finger in their direction, “I can’t believe you guys!”

Kon laughed, which only made Tim pout (though if Kon said that out loud, there was a good chance he’d get a bo staff to the ribs), “dude, you did it! You should be proud of yourself.”

Kon wrapped him in a tight hug, closely followed by Bart and Cassie, and now that Tim was more durable, they could put a bit more force in their grip.

Though, perhaps it was a little much, Kon managed to think just as they crumpled down into a pile on the sofa. Tim was squished under them. More specifically, under Kon. If it had been anyone else, it would’ve been funny.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening, they were separated by the increasingly-familiar black tendrils, with another extension coming out from Tim’s neck and forming the head, “enough of this. We need a plan.”

Kon wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he shrugged it off and took the opportunity to calm the outrageous redness from his cheeks.

It took another several seconds before the blackness cleared, and when it did, Tim was back on the sofa, an exasperated smile on his face.

“A plan,” Tim agreed easily, crossing his ankle over his knee and leaning forward, fingers already interlocking in that oh-so familiar way. “I need to figure out a way to get my family off my back. We can’t have them following us to that lab. I also need to talk to Jaime. And find something better for us to eat than raw food.”

“Let’s start with the lab, ” Venom grumbled, his head darting between the group, teeth slicked in saliva as his eyes watched them closely.

Kon sat up straighter, lips already curling into an inappropriate smile. Even he had been listening properly and knew that was a bad idea. In fact, before Tim could dispute it (and probably get mad), he said, “was you even listening? He just said he needs to get his family off his back first.”

Tim opened his mouth, a matching smile starting to show, just as an alarm started. It was irregular, high pitched and loud. Kon gritted his teeth, covering his ears.

Tim darted off into the other room, Venom trailing behind him like a kite. When he returned, it was with a comm link and a grim expression. “Three dead?”

Kon could hear the staticky voice of Nightwing on the other side, which he converted back to Bart and Cassie, “beheaded.”

Tim’s eyes widened, his hand palming his forehead and then combing the stray hairs from his face. “I’m going to need you to send me a report from the morgue and your notes.”

“I can’t. We can’t find you anywhere. Could you stop blocking all your technology?”

“I’d rather see you in person,” Tim replied easily, turning to look at their confused faces. He blocked the comm with his hand, and said to them, “Barbara can track me easier with tech than the bats can follow me back on foot.”

Kon scoffed, “yes, mr-I-have-never-been-caught-on-camera-ever.”

Tim grinned, though he quickly sobered when he remembered the conversation, “I’ll meet you at the usual place and time?”

Dick sighed before agreeing. Clearly, he had hoped to get Barbara to do the tracking. Just like Tim had said.

As soon as Tim finished the conversation, he threw the comm back into the other room and faced them once more, an easy smile returning. “This is perfect. I can convince Dick to stop following me when I speak to him and then we can check the lab out.”

Bart vibrated impatiently, “that’s good and all, but I’m starving! Got any food?”

Kon shot Bart a look. So did Cassie. Tim only smiled. “You’ll love this,” he said, eyes glittering as he moved to the open kitchen and opened the island cupboard doors.

There were rows and rows and rows of healthy snacks. Oats and porridge and dried fruits. The only words Kon could think to use to describe Bart’s face was devastation. That only made Tim laugh harder.

After he recovered, he shoved the “snacks” to the side, pulling his gloves off to pry the fake wall free from the back, revealing a hefty amount of sugary treats.

Cassie snorted, “why would you need to hide your snacks if this is an unknown safehouse?”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, “Alfred knows of this place. It’s from a long time ago. I doubt he will remember.” He cleared his throat, turning around to shrug nonchalantly. There was nothing casual about it though.

Bart disappeared for a split second, muttering something about a perimeter check before he finally stilled again beside Tim, leaning up to say, “wouldn’t Batman know of this place too?”

Tim rolled his eyes, hands on hips, “no. This was used for a solo mission with Alfred’s technical assistance. And we kept the details semi hush-hush.”

Cassie palmed her forehead, exasperated, “I have so many questions,” at the same time as Kon yelled, “but you said it was from your early Robin days!”

Tim groaned, letting his head roll back irritably before he looked them in the eye again, “how do you guys pick up on the vaguely odd details of a single sentence? You never used to do this.” He folded his arms over his chest, and for the second time of the night, he pouted.

Bart gave him the most innocent blink of his golden eyes, ruining the look with a devilish grin, “isn’t it great?” He darted around Tim, ruffling his hair and tugging at his arms before he finally stopped in front of him again, “so?”

Kon was pretty curious. While Tim was definitely capable, even as a child, it sounded suspiciously like Batman had left him to fight by himself in the early days. Which was pretty bad, in Kons humble opinion.

Tim cleared his throat, leaning back on the counter, scowling briefly at whatever Venom said to him telepathically, “fine, you are right. I did deal with some solo missions in my early days. It really isn’t bad. Most have.”

“‘It’s really not bad’, he says while admitting he fought solo in the most crime-riddled city in the US,” Cassie mocks, facepalming.

Tim’s cheek twitched and that was the only sign that Kon needed. With a little reluctance, he stepped between an accusatory Cassie and a defensive Tim. They’d have to come back to the worrying details of Tim’s early days another time. When Tim wasn’t so stressed/tightly wound.

Kon gently put a hand on Tim’s shoulder, guiding him to the near empty (geez, when had Bart managed that?) pantry and dropping a chocolate into his hands. “You should eat, then take a nap before meeting your brother. I’ll even wake you up before it’s time so you can properly gather your thoughts.”

“I’m not tired, I really should get some work done.” As if on queue, Tim let out an eye-wateringly large yawn (and then everyone else collectively yawned too) which he quickly hid behind his hand. He rolled his eyes, smiling ruefully when Kon didn’t relent, “fine, I’ll sleep. thank you.”

Once he was out of earshot, Kon turned to the others and sighed, “what’s your bet that he ignores everything I just said?”

Cassie rolled her eyes, neatening the snack cupboard before levelling him an unimpressed look, “I think, because you said it, he might actually listen for once.”

Kon scoffed.

Kon wished Cassie was right about Tim. He would do anything for Tim to feel the same way he did. There were times when he believed maybe he did.

Every touch from Tim was electric. Even now, he was still wired from the brief contact on the sofa, the way Tim’s eyes lingered on his lips.

Perhaps his imagination was running wild again.

But again, when they had fell through the air together… it felt like there was, or there could be, something there.

Maybe Kon needed to sleep too…

——

With a great deal of effort, Dick had managed to escape the cave without anyone noticing. Well, Barbara probably had. And maybe Alfred. But, for the most part, he had gotten away with it.

Problem was, he had left in such a hurry that he hadn’t had time to properly prepare his suit. And it was bad . It was safe to say that, without the baby powder, he was chafing in places.

The sensation made him scrunch his nose up in displeasure, which in turn shifted his mask uncomfortably on his face. He was having a hard time. A worse time when he was reminded of the potential severity of this next conversation.

Dick had long since removed his comm, stashing it safely in a hidden compartment. Tim would appreciate that.

A sigh escaped his lips, though it started suspiciously as a yawn. He really was tired. Though he’d never admit it to her, Babs had been right. He really should’ve taken a nap. Hopefully, he’d be awake enough to pick up on any of Tims lies. Not that he believed his brother was a liar.

More so that he didn’t know how to ask for help anymore.

He had been able to ask for help…

Dick had ruined that.

Quickly, he shook that thought off. Tim had long since forgiven him for that, and acknowledged that he had been acting crazy. No one was to blame. And yet…

One of his most fond memories of this rooftop was when they had been sat alone, feet dangling, talking about everything and nothing at all.

Even when it had began to rain, Tim had wanted to keep talking, so he had unclipped his cape and dangled it over both of their heads.

Whatever Dick had been talking about, it had Tim hanging off of his every word. The kid had been exhausted that night, his eyes drooping and then widening again when he realised.

Just as he drifted off for the final time, Tim had mumbled something about him being the ‘best brother ever’. The memory still brought a smile to his face.

Tim had struggled with closeness at the start. Jason’s death hung heavy over everyone. He didn’t want to overstep. Bruce didn’t want to get close to anyone again. Dick was (badly) dealing with his grief.

Alfred had talked some sense into the both of them.

That night, Tim was returned to the batcave in a cape-burrito wrap, still curled up close to Dicks chest as he was cradled. And Batman, well Bruce, smiled and told him to get some rest. No scolding, no disappointment.

The point was, Dick doubted tonight would go that well. There wouldn’t be any big breakthrough. The only reason Tim had come out was to prevent Barbara tracking him instead.

Dick shifted again, the creases in his suit rubbing harshly against his skin. Grumbling to himself, he pulled at the fabric-

“-do your own laundry again?” Tim quipped, snorting when he heard Dicks embarrassing shriek. Efficiently, he had blocked the blow of the escrima stick to his shin with a quick draw of his retractable bo staff.

Dick pressed his hand against his beating heart, scowling (fondly) up at his little brother, “you could’ve given me a heart attack!”

“You’re not that old yet,” Tim snorted.

Dick rolled his eyes, shuffling along the edge of the roof to make room for Tim. “Okay, I could’ve broken your shins though.”

“Doubt it,” Tim said, waving his bo staff victoriously, “you are getting slower in your old age.”

Dick smiled. And see, this is where he was confused. Tim was more than happy to mess around with him like they used to. They could laugh and joke as well. But the moment things got serious, he went off alone.

The last time he had been trusted to handle something serious was when Tim had been kicked from Wayne Tower. The memory still hurt, just to think that Tim could’ve died like his parents… The only consolation he had was that, later, Tim had said that he knew he’d be saved because Dick was his brother.

What a relief it had been to hear Tim come out and say there was no bad blood between them. They were still family.

And yet, since then, there has been no more reliance upon Dick.

If he’s honest, Dick feels like a crappy brother.

“I thought you just said I wasn’t old,” Dick laughed, relief flooding him when Tim sat beside him. The heavy cape settled behind the two of them, and that same memory briefly flooded his mind again. If only they were still as close.

“I lied. So, the case?” Tim asked, all business. Dick nearly sighed. He was about to whine —

Suddenly, Tim twitched, rubbing at the back of his neck. Jason had mentioned something about that. Before he could think better of it, Dick pressed his hand to his brother’s cheek, checking his temperature. It would’ve been easier if he wasn’t wearing that stupid cowl.

Tim leant into the touch. “See? I’m fine.”

“What’s up with you lately? You can tell me anything,” Dick breathed, turning squarely to face his brother. Again, he cursed that cowl. It entirely hid what Tim was thinking.

“I’m going to transfer you details for an updated suit, I’ve made these gel strips that prevent chafing, no baby powder required. You are chafing, right?” Tim asked, squinting downwards at the tight grip Dick had of his knee. Dick hadn’t even noticed himself doing that.

Truly, it was beginning to hurt.

“Thanks.”

Tim nodded, “you’re welcome.”

“Tim — please, tell me-“

“Dick, do you trust me?”

Dick grabbed at Tim’s hands, looking him in the eye lenses meaningfully, “with my life.”

“Then can you trust me to handle my own problem?”

Dick frowned. Tim had effectively trapped him in a corner. Say no, and he admits he doesn’t trust him (which he does!), or say yes and let him deal with something potentially dangerous by himself.

“I trust you. But you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Tim groaned, “you sound just like my friends.”

“Please, Tim.”

First, Tim opened his mouth and snapped it shut almost immediately. Dick knew he was about to scold him on names in the field and then thought better of it. It wasn’t the moment for that. Then, Tim sort of crumpled into himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and presumably looked at Dick sideways. “I want to tell you,” he whispered, shoulders hunched, lips pursed.

Dick leant in closer. Face blank, mouth sealed. The epitome of patience.

“And I will. But not now. Let’s go over the case,” Tim said finally, straightening up, “do you have the files?”

Like a mantra, he repeated, don’t push it , in his head. Because being pushy wouldn’t help him. Just the fact that Tim confessed he wanted (or needed ) help was a breakthrough. Who knows? Maybe he’d eventually ask for it.

“These are the files.” Dick handed them over, if not a little reluctantly. Tim always got too absorbed in cases. “The bodies were found in quick succession around the same time and place. They were actually found around where we found you, it’s one of the reasons I called you. I was wondering if you saw anything? We don’t have much so far. There was nothing to link the victims apart from the fact that they were all previous murderers. We can’t find the heads, and in some cases, arms of the dead. The wounds are disturbing and look almost like a shark has tore the head clean off. It’s highly unusual. I certainly haven’t seen anything like it.”

About halfway through his diluted explanation, Tim had paled consideringly, his hand shaking as he rubbed at the back of his neck again.

“Oh god…” he whispered, breathing suddenly very heavy. “Oh. Oh...” Tims entire demeanour had shifted within seconds.

Dick could hear each breath, ragged and fast. That was something Tim always had under control. The kid had bigged up learning about it from some Monk he went to learn from. And there was no need for that, by now, everyone knew he really trained with Lady Shiva.

Point was, Tim prided himself on his ridiculous breathing techniques.

Haphazardly, he stood up, leaning against the wall, “sorry, I— I have to go,” and then he turned his gaze towards some place over his shoulder, “I… I can’t believe you did this —“ he saw Dicks utter confusion/horror,  “no, I’m not talking to you, Dick.”

Tim looked faintly green now, and there was only so much Dick could let slide. Intercepting his brother, Dick held him firmly, already reaching into his compartment to free his mini thermometer. He stuck it into Tim’s ear and waited for the beep. Again, it came back normal.

Tim pushed away, shuddering briefly before he managed to shake himself off. He exhaled deeply and then his shoulders relaxed.

Monk Breathing Techniques strike again.

But then Tim looked at the files again and not even the techniques could help. He was borderline hyperventilating. Dick watched in horror as Tim unlatched his grapple gun and prepared, his eyes never leaving the dark images of the files.

“I’ll… discuss this at a later date,” Tim mumbled, “you won’t see me for a bit.”

“The gala?” Dick said uncertainly.

“Thanks for seeing me, Dick…”

Dick watched, frozen in place, as his little brother dived from the roof, the whir of the grapple the only confirmation that he hadn’t splattered against the pavement.

The silence afterwards was deafening. Once his brother was no longer in sight, he leant against the roof access door, slowly collapsing against it.

Half an hour passed before he even thought about getting up. It took him another fifteen minutes to stand. Slowly, he arched his back, each bone clicking angrily at him. He was stiff as a board.

Dick was just unlatching his own grapple/escrima stick when the irregular chime of his comm came through the static.

“Dick, are you still with Tim?” Babs ushered.

“What’s the problem?”

“Batman has found some worrying things back at Titans Tower, and the recovered footage isn’t much better. Have you got Tim?”

“Not anymore… Babs, what is it?” Dick breathed, his previous sluggishness gone as he began the grapple back to the Manor.

Babs sighed, “league involvement and… you’d better see the footage.”

Dick felt like he could be sick.

“I’m on my way.”

——

Phenylethylamine. The teeth marks. The unfamiliar compound that Tim knew to be Venoms saliva. Nausea bubbled up.

Restricted breaths and bitten back sobs could be heard beyond the dumpster. Tim didn’t care. He was a murderer. People were dead. He had eaten people. He was a — he killed.

He had become everything Batman hated.

He had become everything he swore to himself he wouldn’t let happen again.

You are not a murderer. You weren’t even conscious for it.

Tim clawed at his head, stuck between holding back his tears and letting out another anguished sob. “Oh…oh god. I’ve killed people.” The admittance stung even as he knew it rang true. It felt like a knife had been wedged into his throat.

I did it. Not you .

Tim tore free from his cowl, though still with enough sense to make sure he secured a domino mask first. He threw it aside, letting the biting Gotham air sting his cheeks.

People were dead. Because of him.

I am the one who killed them.

Tim gagged, the familiar sensation of bile filling the back of his throat. He swallowed, shivering, “I am an accessory to your crime. I should’ve known… I should’ve turned myself in to batman the moment I knew about you.”

Now, people were dead.

Murderers are dead. Venom said confidently, What exactly is the issue?

Tim could be sick.

Those people were all dead. There last moments looking at the black bottomless pit of Venom, his jagged teeth their last image.

Concentrate, Tim. Hear that?

“You aren’t going to distract me from what you’ve done! I can’t—“ the silent footsteps reverberated through the alley ominously.

Tim was up in an instant, bo staff drawn to its full length, and cowl pulled over his face. His calves burnt as he stood to his full height, still tense and wary.

A can rolled past his feet. There was a scuffle and then silence.

“Hello, detective.”

Chapter Text

“League involvement?” Dick said quickly, ignoring the screech of his bikes tires as he rushed to the meeting table in the middle of the cave.

Bruce had a very pinched, constipated-looking expression that told him the answer to his question.

Barbara silently pulled up footage of Ra’s-al-freaking-ghul prowling the Gotham streets. Dicks eyes widened.

“He wanted to be seen…” he murmured thoughtfully.

Bruce growled, “he’s taunting us.”

The clip ended with Ra’s looking into the camera. A vein bulged dangerously at Bruce’s temple. Dick exchanged a look with Alfred.

Bruce released a heavy breath, rubbing his temple and sipping at his tea, “what do we know about Tims interactions with Ra’s?”

Dick cleared his throat, curling his hand around his escrima stick idly, “well, you know about him being kicked out the window…”

Jason drummed his fingers on the table, “and the whole spleen thing. Although, he never made that clear.”

“Do we actually know what happened during his time in the league?” Bruce sighed.

“He refused to disclose most of the details,” Damian said, almost indifferently. Or at least, that’s what he’d like you to believe. His eyes darted around the table nervously, consistently landing upon his grandfather displayed on the computer.

Dick watched as the perspiration on Bruce’s brow dribbled down his nose, wrinkling his own grimly. Bruce tightened his glove, “do we know what Ra’s wants with Tim?”

Dick scoffed, rolling his eyes, “revenge for outsmarting him. Why do you think he was kicked out of the window ?”

Cass frowned. Steph and Bruce clocked it immediately. Everyone else noticed based on their reactions, “what?”

“Tim wouldn’t want me to tell,” Cass hummed, interlocking her fingers on the table and kicking her feet back and forth.

That didn’t make Dick feel better. Not at all.

“The footage is very close to the original meeting spot that you and Tim went to earlier,” Bruce said, directing his attention back to Dick. Dick shrank under the glares he received.

“You saw him!”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Dick flapped his hand quickly, “no time for that!”

Bruce nodded tersely, “we are partnering up for this. I don’t want anyone by themselves, that includes you Jason-

—Jason rolled his eyes-

“-Damian you’re with me, Dick with Jason, and Cass with Steph. We will be patrolling around the area where he was seen last.”

The click and shkkk of Jason’s helmet announced his departure, and Dick bounced out of his chair, jogging to catch up beside him.

There was a steady stream of fast-paced conversation behind them that suggested it wouldn’t take long for the entire family to be out and ready for a fight.

Good luck criminals.

——

I can eat this guy, right?

“Ra’s.” Tim replied curtly.

Ra’s eyes glinted with amusement — with understanding . Tim took a step back and folded his arms. The cape on his back hung heavy as he waited.

“How’s your little parasite?” Ra’s mused, looking into his eyes almost as if he could see past Tim and to the alien hidden there. That uncomfortable cold pressure at the back of his neck returned, and he resisted the urge to shudder.

“How do you know?” The increasingly familiar sensation of Venom crept up his neck, defensive thoughts bubbling in his mind too quick for Tim to process. Venom felt almost… protective .

Venom snorted.

“You know I have a vested interest in your life. I am not like your family, I believe in you. I pay attention to you.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to be your heir. Nor do I want to give your family a heir.”

“My sister wasn’t supposed to do that.”

Since that day, Tim had replaced the zipper with complicated clasps and anti-removal shock equipment. He shuddered at the thought of what could’ve been if Cass hadn’t shown up.

Ra’s paused, eyeing Tim before casting his sight backwards towards a noise only he seemed to have heard.

Someone’s coming.

Tim nodded minutely.

Then, before Tim had time to react, Ra’s leant in close — way too close — his breath a harsh whisper at the shell of his ear, “don’t worry, detective. The first kill is always the hardest.”

Venom was out in an instant, a tendril forming a knife at Ra’s jugular. Ra’s didn’t even flinch, ducking to the side and disappearing behind a dumpster.

Tim stumbled forward, peeking out of the alley to find the source of the noise. It was someone from his family. He knew. And the moment he realised they weren’t coming out, he bolted in the other direction, grappling over the dead end backstreet and jumping rooftops.

Once he deemed himself far enough away, he folded himself behind one of those air conditioning units, pulling his dark cape over his suit.

Avoiding them still?

“It was your idea!” Tim hissed under his breath. Now that they were alone, everything came rushing back to him. What was he even supposed to do?

Just thinking about what he’d done made Tim feel nauseous. Three people were dead. Dead . Because of him. Tim had thought that perhaps he could learn from his past mistakes during his, ahem, solo run, but he continued to get people killed.

There was so much blood on his hands. How was he supposed to-

You’re spiralling. Calm down.

The too-familiar sensation of the alien chilled his neck, little appendages forming to tighten the cape/blanket around his frame.

“I need to do something,” Tim whispered.

Yes, you need to calm down.

“Why did you kill those people?”

They were murderers. Criminals. I don’t see the problem.

Tim rocked back against the cool brick wall, shaking his head, “liar. You’re in my brain, you know exactly why it’s a problem.”

Is it your rule, or Batmans? Who even are you Timothy Jackson Drake- Wayne ? Do you know who you really are?

“I believe in the rule. You know it, and so do I, so stop with the excuses and the stupid questions!” Tim whisper-shouted, his fear and guilt twisting into something ugly. Something that wasn’t really him.

You nearly killed your father’s murderer.

“And I didn’t. That proves nothing.”

Your future counterpart is a murderer.

“Not anymore. I dealt with that.”

Anyone has the potential to kill. Even someone such as yourself. Why is it different because it was me who killed?

“It’s not different because it’s you! It’s different because you didn’t have to! Why would you kill people when the substitute was so easy? Chocolate. I could’ve bought that for you. We could’ve made a serum. It’s just Phenylethylamine.”

Listen. Hear me out.

Tim fisted the material of his uniform, “why should I? You’ve done nothing but lie so far!”

I need your help.

Tim scoffed.

My memories prior to waking up are foggy but not gone. I know this isn’t my world — isn’t even my universe.

“I can verify that with a Lantern. You better be telling the truth.”

You cannot rid of me. Not really. I don’t want to harm you Tim Drake. And I won’t. But you will be harming me, yourself and humanity if you think the solution to my murderings is to jail me.

“How would I be harming humanity?” Tim asked skeptically, that undertone of fear returning. The guilt…

The man who brought me here intends to use me as a means to destroy Superman and control the human population.

“What did this man look like?” Tim bit out.

Bald, conniving, and with a business suit more expensive than yours.

Tim felt like he could scream. “Lex fucking Luthor.”

Reluctantly, Tim unfolded himself from the tight space, brushing off his moss-damp gear. He tightened the cowl, feeling light and heavy all at once. Probably wasn’t safe to grapple in this state. Cautiously, he sat on the edge of the roof, waiting it out. “So, what is your great idea?”

We must return to that lab. Figure out how to take me back to my own universe. I know there is someone out there, someone who I need. I can feel the empty space they left behind.

“Someone you love?”

I think so. I can’t remember.

“I still don’t know what to do.”

I know. I can hear you. It’s compromising your morals.

“You don’t say? You know how fucked it is for me to let three murders slide?”

Think about humanity as a whole.

“Fuck off,” Tim whispered, with no real heat behind it. He could feel the guilt radiating from the other part of his mind. There was relief too. Venom knew he had won. But surprisingly, he felt somewhat remorseful.

It made it easier for Tim to ignore the murders.

For now.

Tim was very sure that late at night, it would probably eat at him. He was certain. If not now, later. It always did.

“We are going to go to that lab. Perhaps I can figure out a way to send you back from there. I’ll get rid of any files he has to prevent him from doing it again.”

You make it sound easy.

“It won’t be.”

Someone’s coming.

“I know.”

Experimentally, he cleared his throat and tested his vocal cords.

“Tim?”

“Hi Cass.”

His voice still sounded funny.

Yeah, it does.

“You okay?”

Tim opened his mouth, ready to lie, even as he knew it would only dig a deeper hole for himself. He looked up and the sincerity in her face hurt to look at. He turned away, looking down at his feet.

“It’s a long story.”

“I have time,” Cass whispered, joining him at the edge of the building.

Tim scrubbed at his eyes, hearing the faint disapproval from Venom. It wasn’t a good idea. He knew that Cass would never tell on him. But while her expertise lied in her emotional intelligence and martial arts, she wasn’t stupid. She could put two and two together about those murders if she found out.

“I’m…” he trailed off.

Tell her the truth about something else that’s bothering you. Like your identity issues, or your guilt issues or your terrible coping mechanisms.

“That’s enough,” he said to the parasite.

It would give her something else to focus on.

Tim scrunched his nose, “sorry Cass. I meant… I have a lot on my plate. Work. And stuff…”

“Tell me when you’re ready,” she said, patting him lightly on the shoulder. She stood, offering her hand to help him up. He accepted. “Call your friend Kon, and get home safe.”

“I don’t like the way you said that,” Tim muttered, narrowly dodging the head scratch she tried to give him (if she wanted to, she most definitely could have), “and we’re nearly the same age, stop older-sistering me.”

“You love it,” she said. “Be safe.”

In the time he had looked away, she disappeared.

He waited several minutes before calling Kon.

Within a split second, Kon was in front of him.

“Need a lift?” he said with that gorgeous smile.

No one was around. So no one else would know just how much he sank into Kons arms.

——

The lead-lined suit Tim insisted on using today always set Kon on edge. Not being able to hear his best friend’s heartbeat in Gotham was enough to make his own heart jump each time he couldn’t find him.

There was a certain tremor in Tim’s voice when he called for Kon that made him push his speed limit. And he was glad he did. Tim looked… not so great.

His eyes were puffy, and his cheeks tear-streaked.

“Need a lift?” he said, choosing to spare Tim from explaining, if only until he calmed down and cleaned up. Tim lit up, immediately melting into his arms.

He let Tim stay there for a moment, just watching his face even as Tim looked away.

“I know I look bad, you don’t have to stare,” Tim muttered, muffled by Kons chest.

“Are you okay?”

Tim shook his head, “I think I’ll feel better when we get back to the others.”

“Want to build a fort and have a sleepover?”

“I don’t think I have enough sheets for that…”

Kon scooped him up, pulling him closer, “I have an idea.”

He took off into the air, Tim securely wrapped in his arms.

——

“You’re kidding, right?” Tim asked suspiciously, arms folded and complicated feelings temporarily paused.

Kon was hovering beside him, sprawled out in a horizontal starfish, with the most not-innocent smile he could give. Tim ignored the way his heart picked up. Hopefully, Kon would too.

“I never kid,” Kon laughed, pulling Tim in for a sideways hug.

“Y’know this is illegal?”

Kon rolled his eyes, “we’re going to pay!”

Long since had Tim disabled all the cameras. He still sent an apologetic look over as he began to pick the lock to freaking IKEA. Kon laughed at his antics.

“While we’re here, we should get you furniture for your actual apartment. You don’t even have anywhere to sit — and the beanbags don’t count!”

Tim shot him a dirty look, “of course they count. Besides, we can’t ransack this place, we’re already stealing their sheets.”

“ Not stealing,” Kon corrected.

Venom came out just to add, “drama queen.”

“Shut up, you.”

Venom huffed.

Tim could still taste the guilt from his alien counterpart. He’d cut him the tiniest bit of slack. But then, every time he even thought of the damn thing, those dead bodies also came back to haunt him. It was the slippiest of slopes.

Venom retreated back inside.

“Tim?”

Kon was right in front of him now. If Tim wanted, he could count each of Kons individual eyelashes. Or the flecks of green in his otherwise blue eyes. Or the faint scent of his rasberry lip balm — damn, they were stood close together.

“I-“ Tim took a deep breath and retried, “let’s go steal those sheets.”

Kon squinted at him for a split second, deciding against the classic interrogation. It wouldn’t work on Tim anyway. They both knew that. Instead, he sighed long-sufferingly, “it’s not stealing!”

Tim took off in a run in a random direction, Kon close behind, that smug smirk returning. Before Tim could think better of it, he unclasped his cape, and it comically stayed upright for a second - a second long enough where Kon flew straight into it.

He looked like one of those cartoons where they ran into the washing line and got clothes stuck around them.

Tim took the opportunity to roll low and duck behind an aisle, climbing the sofa and then the cabinets - why were the living room and kitchen stuff together? - and boosted his way until he were in the framework of the ceiling.

Man was he thankful he had worn his lead-lined suit today. Somewhere below Tim, Kon huffed out a laugh when he was finally free of the cape.

“That was underhanded, Rob!” Kon called after him, his hands around his mouth to make his voice echo. Tim watched Kon pause in that oh-so-familiar way.

Carefully, Tim froze. The slightest of movements would alert Kon to his hiding place.

One thing that Tim was particularly proud of was his ability to hold his breath, and it actually came in handy more times than you’d think. Stealth missions. Not drowning in Gotham harbour. Pretending to be dead to stop people beating you up. The list could go on and on.

As it turned out, it was also pretty useful for a game of hide and seek with a kryptonian.

The familiar whoosh and whistle of Kon flying around the vast space drifted pleasantly through the night. From below, he could see the pattern that Kon was using now.

He did the math in his head. It would be really funny if he did this properly. Another three seconds. Two. One.

Tim slipped free from the wooden framework, aiming for Kons back. Kon would definitely hear him — and he did. Turning onto his back midair, Kons eyes widened as Tim plummeted towards him.

“Tim!” he shouted.

Easily, Tim landed on the solid platform that was Kons legs. “What?”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Tim rolled his eyes, “why is everyone saying that to me recently?”

Kon raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Tim sighed, “yeah okay…”

Kon laughed. Tim gave him the most reluctant smile back.

“Let’s go steal some sheets!” Kon cheered.

“It’s not steal—“ Tim started, then paused when he realised what Kon had done. And Kon looked so smug! It was unfair tricking him this way. Kon knew Tim couldn’t help but disagree with people when they were wrong. Agh. “Damn it, Kon.”

“So it isn’t stealing?” Kon asked innocently.

Tim huffed, crossing his arms, “no.”

“I knew you’d agree with me eventually!” Kon said, fist pumping the air gloatingly. “It’s a good thing too, because we’re here now.”

The sheets were stacked neatly in rows and rows. There were endless patterns and colours. Tim bit his lip. Why did there have to be so much to choose from?

——

After a lot of coaxing from Kon and some choice-words (all insults) from Venom, Tim picked out some sheets. A lot of sheets. Way too many sheets.

Most were wrinkled now, thanks to the unfortunate Gotham weather - they had had to use Tims waterproof cape to wrap the sheets up when it had started to rain.

And no - they really hadn’t stolen anything. Tim paid and tipped very highly, even writing a note explaining how they could improve their security system.

It brought a fond smile to Kons face. How was he supposed to not love Tim? Everything he did made him happy, and good, and whole.

But even now, Kon knew there was something wrong with Tim. Something was eating at him. Something to do with Venom. The few times Tim had looked, well, haunted, was when his alien buddy had come out.

Tim’s bloodshot eyes had long since disappeared since their IKEA shenanigans. But now, Kon wondered how he was supposed to bring it up. There wasn’t anymore evidence that Tim was struggling.

And Tim was excellent at hiding things. Or just denying them until it went away on its own.

Now, they stood, side by side, presenting the sheets to their teammates like it was gold, a shared smile on their face, a secret smile just between them.

After several arguments - all fort related and started by Tim in relation to the ‘structural integrity’ of said build - it was finally done.

If Kon was being honest, it was very ugly. And lopsided. And squished. On the bright side, “an earthquake wouldn’t be able to tear it down,” as Tim so proudly stated once it was complete.

He had even managed to make a gap big enough to see the TV. The argument for what to watch somehow took longer, and wasn’t even joined in by Tim. Which was highly unusual if you knew Tim. He loved to debate (argue).

But then he looked down and forgot about all of that. Tim had drifted off to sleep, his entire body slumping beside Kon, his head rested on his stomach. The light weight of Tims muscled arm weighed down on Kons thigh, wrapping around him almost subconsciously.

After that it didn’t take Kon long to follow. He fell asleep with the pleasant bickering of Bart and Cassie, his legs tangled with Tims.

Chapter Text

Kon poked at the eggs in the pan sadly, the lit stove not enough to warm the blue bitterness eating at him. This morning, he had woken up alone. The weight of Tim laid on him the last sensation he could remember. And the first sensation he had wanted to wake up to.

Extending his hearing had been pointless - Tim’s lead-lined suit was missing. Now he was alone. Cassie and Bart had to deal with their own lives. They’d be back though. Hopefully soon. Sometimes it really felt like Kon had no life.

The entire reason he had been created was to be Superman. That was his purpose. And long since had it been clear that wouldn’t happen. Death did that to a person. And it certainly didn’t help when your younger brother aged and took the role from right under your nose.

Not that he was bitter.

Or jealous.

Kon found his purpose with the Titans - with his friends. And that meant so much to him. That was the family he had chosen. And they chose him.

So, did it hurt when your closest friend snuck off into the night to deal with his problems alone? Yes. They were meant to do everything together. What was his purpose if he didn’t?

Roughly, Kon wiped at his watery eyes.

It was pointless thinking like this. Especially when it wasn’t true. Ma Kent would be huffing and puffing if she heard him say he didn’t have a place with the Kent’s.

Still, his civilian life wasn’t exactly possible for him at the moment - what with being legally dead and all. All he needed to figure out was an explanation for his return to life. Or start over… he could return to his Carl Krummet identity…

No. He wanted to be Conner Kent.

If Tim wasn’t in such a bad place at the minute, it would’ve been him that Kon went to for help.

Scouring the cupboards for a knife and fork, Kon took the pan away from the heat. The eggs were overdone, he opted to eat them right from the pan.

When Tim returned, they needed to have a serious conversation. Up until now, Tim was slippery, and quick to stop all talk about emotions. But not this time. If they weren’t allowed to tell the Batman what was going on (which they’d never do if Tim didn’t want) then Tim wasn’t allowed to handle things the ‘Bat’ way either.

One way or another, Tim was going to talk.

——

Dropping off files for Wayne Enterprise had turned out to be the hardest part of his day. Dodging Bruce at work wasn’t easy, especially when he had brown-nosing employees who would snitch on his whereabouts for some Brucie-praise. Bruce had gone as far as standing outside Tims office to speak with him.

No, thank you.

Tam had accepted the files with one of her unimpressed frowns that suggested she didn’t approve. But she would face Bruce for Tim.

He was going to have to buy her a gift or something.

Add that to the long list of things he had to do.

Right now, he was ticking off one of his many tasks. The lab hadn’t changed since he was last there. That light was still flickering on and off. Each and every test tube were smashed and splattered across the floor.

Then, Tim moved to the room where his life took a turn for the worse —

— for the better.

— and found it in a completely different way. All of the files were gone. Tim was there in an instant, scouring the cupboards and the overhead shelves.

“Venom, help me look,” he said, his hands already shaking as he ransacked the lab.

It’s empty.

Tim wiped the sheen of sweat from his upper lip, “there must be something left.”

Should have listened to your friends. Could’ve used their x-ray vision and speed.

“This is for the best. Lex Luthor is involved. If I’d known that I’d never have agreed to them helping me,” Tim gritted out. Kon was stressed out enough as it was, he didn’t need Lex back in the picture as well.

It was Lex’s fault that Kon hadn’t believed he had a soul. Lex made him feel inhuman and evil and not-Kon. Lex controlled his mind and scarred it with his own sinister actions.

So, no. Tim absolutely would not be having the two interact.

In fact, Tim was doing everything he could to help Kon. Even if he didn’t know that.

Although, Tim may have overstepped. Recently, he had drafted up a plan to get Conner his identity back. Without asking. But something was bothering Kon, and that was definitely a weight off of his shoulders. Tim knew Kon missed having a life.

Tim checked his watch, “I need to hurry,” he said, mostly to himself. Kon would be up soon.

Look, as far as he was concerned, he wasn’t actually breaking his promise to YJ. He only promised to ask for help when he needed it.

Right now, he was fine.

A basic investigation of a lab was child’s play.

The dust upon the surfaces had settled again. This meant whoever had been in must have come in right after Tim had made the discovery the first time round several nights ago.

Coincidence? Maybe. Or… they could have cameras and motion detectors that informed them of his arrival. The latter’s more likely. It was Lex Luthor after all.

While normally he would’ve checked every nook and cranny for cameras, when he had came in the first time round, he had actually been chasing something (now better known as his parasite) and hadn’t had the time.

And clearly it had slipped his mind this time.

With a sigh, Tim looked up and was immediately faced with a camera.

“Can you believe my luck?” Tim huffed.

I haven’t known you for long, but this seems about right.

Lex must know that Tim (Red Robin specifically) was onto him. With the overconfidence of a Robin, Tim wiggled his fingers in a wave at the camera.

There isn’t any evidence. We should leave.

“I need to fix this,” Tim dissented, even though his continued searching was obviously futile. There was nothing left.

But then again, if his memory served him correctly… Tim remembered accidentally knocking something as he fell to the ground upon contact with Venom the first time, and a door opening somewhere to the left.

But where was it…

Tim kept searching, now for the hidden lever, with a renewed fervour. It would suck if he had to take a trip to Metropolis. Although, now that he worked for Wayne Enterprises, it wouldn’t be difficult.

Tim could actually feel the exasperation rolling off of venom in waves. It would be kind of cool to conduct experiments regarding their shared feelings and emotions… but that would have to come later. Or not at all if he could fix this thing.

Where did you see the door?

Tim pointed to the furthest corner from the large test pods, barely shivering as Venoms tendrils extended from his neck and probed the air. He really needed to solve this soon. He already seemed to be getting used to the feeling of sharing a body with the alien.

“You act like this is a bad thing,” Venom huffed, his face inching closer towards Tim’s, even as his appendages continued inspecting the corner for any cracks to sneak through.

The dense stench that was Venoms breath smacked him in the face, and Tim actually had to fight back the way his eyes watered. Squinting, and turning away from the smell, Tim asked, “I thought you wanted to find someone?”

Venom intentionally blew hot air into his face, snorting when Tim scowled. “I have plenty of time— found it!”

Crrrrkk.

“Oops.”

The entire panel securing the hidden doorway was torn clean down the middle. The jagged edges ominously casted shadows along the walls. That caught his attention. A lamp or something must be on in the other room to have an effect like that.

On his tiptoes, Tim edged towards the source of the light, breath held and hands steady as he poked his head around the side — and blew out a sigh of relief.

It was just a room with an MRI scanner on the other side of a glass pane. Though it was odd that it was hidden, Tim didn’t think much of it. MRI machines were expensive after all. It was probably some security measure.

Tim stepped through the ridiculous hole in the wall, looking at the many panels along the wall. In the room beyond the glass pane, the MRI had a strange sludge dribbling from within the machine, and down onto the floor.

That would be good for testing. Quickly retrieving a tube from his belt, Tim fiddled with the buttons until the door to the other room finally opened. A sample of the organic material would prove useful…

“Anything to note before I gather the sample?” Tim asked, unscrewing the first part of his complicated sample cylinder. It was specialised in the sense that it could hold Clayface.

No one could say Tim wasn’t prepared.

“It looks to be the leftovers of my kind after they’ve fed on a host that is… not compatible,” Venom replied, head tilting sideways to get a better look.

Tim suspected as much. It matched with several of the victims he had seen when he had been investigating his old murder case - the one that led him to this very building, and Venom. Tim hated to think about it, but it seemed Venom had definitely killed more than those three —

“I was not the murderer on your last case,” Venom huffed angrily, head retracting until he was entirely within Tim again.

I believe in conserving the host.

Tim would let him sulk. Who could blame him from pointing the blame? Up until now, Tim only suspected there was one of the damn alien. Well, not up until now… there had been multiple pods outside that could lead one to believe there were also multiple parasites.

But one could dream that you’d only have to deal with one intergalactic multiversal alien.

Or none.

Regardless, it was looking like there were more of his kind. Thankful to be wearing gloves, Tim tested the consistency with his index finger. It had a doughy texture and a rancid smell that didn’t match in the slightest. Gagging, Tim held his breath while he collected the sample.

Next, he dusted the place for prints. Whilst this was obviously Lexs doings, he would have had help. It would be useful to ID his closest scientists and interrogate them.

He was halfway through lifting the prints when an awful sensation crawled up his entire body. Simultaneously, the MRI machine came to life, humming even as it hurt him. The door clicked shut behind him. Ignoring the tingling pain, Tim immediately moved to the closed door, his gloved fingers attempting to pry open the crack.

When the first wave passed, Tim eyed the camera, wiping the sweat from below his nose. Lex was watching him. The MRI clearly had a negative effect upon Venom — and by association, Tim. Something to do with the magnets, perhaps?

It’s the sound. Certain frequencies hurt.

Tim froze. That wasn’t good.

And then, to match his frozen stillness, his blood ran cold as the familiar melodic voice of Lex-fucking-Luthor rang through the rooms speakers, “ah, perfect. A guinea pig has scuttled into my lab.”

Okay, that really wasn’t good.

“Venom! Why didn’t you say something before I walked in?” Tim snapped, redoubling his effort to open the door after what Lex had said.

You know my memory is bad. I can’t even remember my old hosts’ name! How do you expect me to remember my aversion to certain sound?

“Your old host is also your lover?” Tim asked, temporarily distracted.

I don’t know. I can’t remember!

Tim opened his mouth to gripe again when the second wave hit them. He let out a quiet groan as his legs folded underneath him. Fiery bursts shot up and down his body, much like the feeling of Cassies’ lasso around his hand. It wasn’t to the point where he and Venom started to seize and separate yet - again, like last time - but it certainly came close.

In the corner of the room, the speaker pinged once more, “Red Robin, is it?” Lex actually waited until Tim worked up the strength to nod before he continued, “terrible name. Are you a fan of the restaurant?”

Tim flipped him off.

Lex only laughed. “I am getting off topic. Did you know that you are the first person to survive the transition with a symbiotic bond?”

Tim pursed his lips. While he had figured as much, it hurt to know that anyone else Lex had experimented on was likely dead. A pile of organic goop. No body, nothing to remember them by.

This case was starting to feel a little overwhelming. And Tim didn’t whelm easily.

“I am so glad you chose to return. Now, I can continue testing on a viable host,” Lex continued after a beat, probably after figuring Tim wasn’t going to play his game.

Although… perhaps Lex’ efforts would focus elsewhere - more specifically on Tim - now that he had successfully bonded with an alien that Luthor seemed keen to utilise. Which meant, there wouldn’t be anymore victims.

Tim released a shaky breath, his vision blurring through his watery eyes. This was a good thing. He could continue his mission alone without the assistance of anyone, without the fear of screwing up and hurting innocents.

Even if he messed up, no one would get hurt.

You could get hurt.

Briefly, the machine paused. Tim’s tense muscles shuddered and he fully collapsed to the floor. The only noise from the speaker was an odd scratching noise — like pen on paper. Tim scowled at the camera as he realised Lex was taking actual notes on his reactions.

It was likely Lex was doing that just to be an ass. After all, he could turn the speaker on and off whenever he wanted. So, when the clicking of the buttons sounded, Tim knew to rest his head back on the cool tiled flooring.

The next wave of pain was on par with what he experienced with Cassies’ lasso. Though, this time, he didn’t stay blacked out for long. Honestly, he wished he’d stayed unconscious.

Venom was seizing and consistently disconnecting and reconnecting. Every time a tendril would tear from Tim, an agonising burn shot up his entire body, but resonated specifically where it had been pulled from. The reconnecting wasn’t much better. The pressure was uncomfortable, and Venom would attempt a better grip by hooking deeper inside. Then, it would burn worse when it was ripped free again.

It was a nasty cycle.

Vaguely, Tim knew that Lex started speaking since he’d started the machine again. However, all of Tims attention was on curling into the tightest fetal position to reduce the surface area where Venom could seize from.

“Venom?” Tim managed weakly.

He’s talking… about getting together a big enough containment… tube to take you back to Metropolis for further… testing.

Venoms own speech patterns weren’t fluent nor at his usual pace. Tim reprimanded himself. That was not the part he should be focusing on.

He needed to escape before Lex’ team got there. He could barely lift himself up. Still, he locked his arms straight, forcing himself to crawl to the corner. Back against the wall, Tim pushed himself up against it, straining. Venom, again, was no help. The seizing was worsening.

And then it stopped.

The machine had stopped humming.

Tim fell forward as the force he was pushing against disappeared. The floor was cold. It seeped into his chest, eating at him until he felt little like himself.

This wasn’t him.

Not really.

Tim didn’t enjoy keeping everyone away. Lying to people. Probably hurting them. This wasn’t his way. Even when he did his solo Robin missions in the early days, he was never really alone. If he was in trouble, all he had to do was call for help.

Of course, this is with the exception of his brucequest. But even then, he had a team. Pru and Z and Owens… and that had gone terribly. He didn’t want anyone to die because of his decisions. On his missions. For his actions.

He hated being alone. But it seemed to work in favour for everyone else involved.

But he trusted the team with his life. They were more than capable of dealing with Luthor. They had dealt with weirder and worse.

Tim wasn’t Batman. He could, and should rely on his friends. He’d just have to find a way for them to help without putting them in harms way…

But first, he needed to escape. Squeezing his eyes shut, Tim tried to speak, “k…ko-“

With one final hum, the MRI came to life.

Tim’s head hit the floor.

——

Trust his host to have a sort-of epiphany and then get knocked out before he can do anything about it.

Venom continued to seize painfully even as he began unclasping the beginnings of the suit.

The bolts of electric passed through his appendages harmlessly. Venom felt like he was making no progress whatsoever though.

Eventually, he resigned himself to tearing it clean off his chest, pulling the tattered thing down to his hips.

Then, he waited.

——

Kon clapped his hands over his ears as the sound he had been passively waiting for for hours began loudly slamming in a fast repetitive beat. It was much too fast. Still recognisable. But fast.

Tim was in danger.

Without missing a beat, Kon dived through the open window and into the night sky. The air was cold, but no colder than the bone-deep dread eating into his body.

The beat seemed to be coming from underground. Kon paused to get a look at the building above Tim’s heart rate. It was rather unimpressive looking. Most criminal activity in Gotham occurred in creepy warehouses. This looked like a small stack of apartment flats.

There were no heartbeats within the rooms though. And that was suspicious.

Kon considered smashing straight through the pavement to reach Tim, but he knew Tim would freak out at him. Not only that, it would give away whatever Tim was investigating to the rest of the bats if they saw a super-made hole in Gotham.

Instead, Kon scoured the ground floor of the apartments until he came across a locked cupboard right in the middle of the hallway. That screamed hidden doorway and so Kon smashed his fist straight through it.

The screech of the wood echoed, and so Kon poked his head through the splintered hole. An empty elevator shaft, dark and dingy, went deep into the ground. Kon looked at the ladder grimly. How did Tim cope without being able to fly?

Kon flew down at ridiculous speeds, scanning the first area halfheartedly. His eyes locked on a tube eerily similar to the one he was created in…

Kon closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath and quickly flew past it. The next room brought a dark feeling over him which he couldn’t explain. He could smell the death in the air.

The wall in the furthest corner was torn down the middle. Kon gingerly stepped through and froze at the glass. Tim was horribly still on the floor, one of his hands reaching for the door.

And yet, his heartbeat was hammering in his chest. Which was unusual.

An MRI machine sat in the centre of the room, whirring away a high-pitched unpleasant frequency. Kon pressed all of the panels on his side of the room until it stopped. Even in unconsciousness, Tim’s body relaxed when the sound stopped. Kon frowned thoughtfully. A weakness to sound?

Kon smashed through the glass, immediately kneeling beside Tim and checking him over for injuries. He didn’t appear to have any, but that could be Venoms doing.

Kon valiantly ignored the nasty organic material on the MRI machine, carefully cradling Tim into his arms, his head resting on Kons chest.

“Rob…” Kon whispered, gently brushing his hair from his forehead with TTK. Tim’s brow was furrowed and his lips were slightly parted. It was hard to be mad at him when he looked so…

A speaker in the corner of the room - which he may or may not have noticed - bleared to life, “interesting,” the horribly familiar voice mused. The hairs on Kons neck stood up on end and he carefully turned around to face the camera. To face his sort-of dad but not really.

Of course Lex was involved in this.

Kon scowled.

Lex tutted like a mildly disgruntled parent. That only made Kon more angry. With the steadiness of someone-who-was-totally-not-fuming, Kon reached out with his tactile telekinesis and smashed the camera to pieces.

In the next moment, he flew up the elevator shaft at breakneck speeds, keeping Tim gently secured in a soft blanket of TTK.

Once he returned back to Tim’s safehouse, he could recall disturbingly little of his flight back. The others were back already. Cassie began fussing over Tim immediately, but even then, her eye was good, and she sent Bart to talk to Kon.

If she thought she could get Bart to talk his ear off until he was suitably distracted from everything… well, yeah, she was normally quite right.

But still, Kon couldn’t keep his eyes nor his ears from Tim, the calm expression and steady heart beat the only thing truly bringing him comfort.

Seriously though, Bart was good. He kept the conversation light without making it obvious, and it usually made the situation feel less dire.

However, without realising, Cassie kept giving him questioning side glances that put him back on edge again.

And with Tim unconscious, and Lex behind it, Kons stomach was churning uncomfortably and he felt like going into space to scream until his lungs burnt.

Then, of course, his one comfort (Tim’s calm and peaceful face) also disappeared. Tim’s nose scrunched and his lips frowned as he began muttering in his sleep. There were stuff about Lex (pretty incriminating, huh Tim?), stuff about Z and Owens - which he didn’t understand but got the feeling it was important - and then him calling out any and all names.

And he couldn’t bare listening to that. Instead, he set about busy work around Tims safehouse - cleaning the dishes, mopping the floors, carrying Tim to the couch.

They all gathered around the sofa, on stools and armchairs - waiting.

Kon could almost feel bad for the barrage of reprimands Tim would receive when he woke up, but then he’d remember the torn up lead-lined suit and the way Tim was reaching for the door - alone.

It might be exactly what he needed.

——

The last thing Tim could remember before being unconscious was the steadily sinister voice of Luthor. It was enough to send him lurching awake and punching out thoughtlessly. He would’ve broken his fingers on Kon if it weren’t for the TTK that carefully stopped him, but his finger still stung. So, Kon was mad.

Cassie also had that one horribly disapproving look that made him scrunch up his nose.

Bart just looked relieved.

Cassie started the general conversation, hitting all the points clearly and concisely. His inability to rely on others. His lack of preservation skills. His fear of losing everyone he loves. Y’know, the fun stuff.

Usually, these conversations had Bart sandwiched in the middle. He’d get a telling off from Cassie, some comfort from Bart, and then finally Kon, who was a bit of both depending on the situation.

This order was not adhered to today.

Kon looked really really upset.

Tim watched the way his mouth opened and knew it was going to be long.

No, Tim would have to speak first.

“Listen,” Tim said quickly, “I swear I did not originally intend to go back. I went to WE to send in some files… and the lab was on the way back from that.”

Tim paused to look at his friends. They didn’t look convinced. He continued, “but last night, me and Venom had a conversation and he mentioned Lex. I figured that the case was probably more serious than I initially feared. So when I saw the lab again…”

“That’s not the whole truth,” Kon said quietly.

Tim crossed his arms defensively, “it is.”

“Why can’t you trust me?” Kon shouted, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, “you don’t tell me anything anymore. You found out about Lex last night! You didn’t think to mention it?”

“A lot happened last night, it slipped my mind!”

Kon squared up with Tim, looking down at him angrily, “you were crying when I got there. I doubt you forgot.”

“ You made me forgot, idiot,” Tim said, shoving him (and achieving nothing, obviously), “we were having a good time and I didn’t want to ruin it. I certainly didn’t want to remind you of Lex when you were finally relaxing.”

Cassie and Bart were clearly stuck between leaving and making sure they wouldn’t strangle each other. It was hard to say. Tim almost felt bad for them.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t once remember the Lex thing? Not once after you forgot?” Kon asked doubtfully, his voice incredulous.

“Not until I saw the lab just now.”

Kon shook his head, lips thinning into a frown.

“Kon, I trust you with my life. I don’t trust myself with yours . People die around me,” Tim whispered, diverting his eyes after the confession, “people get hurt and I’m left alone.”

Kon sighed, rubbing his temple, “I don’t plan on leaving you again, Tim. But stopping me from helping isn’t helping.”

“I know that! I realised it just before I was knocked out…” Tim said shakily. Bart tsked at Kon when he opened his mouth again, dragging everyone down into a group hug.

“We have time to plan. Let’s just all calm down and relax for now,” he soothed, squishing everyone together with his wiry arms.

“Okay…”

——

Chapter Text

“How did this happen?” Tim murmured, head in his hands, defeated. The suit hung from the door, its ironed fabric soft and slick all at once. A little note had fallen out of the sleeve when Tim had bumped into it, with the neat scrawl from Alfred.

Sometimes Tim suspected Alfred had a secret meta gene. How did he break into his apartment with four vigilantes, three with powers (superhearing!!!) without getting caught? And all while holding the clothes without creating a single crease.

Not only that, how had he found the safehouse to begin with? Tim supposed he should just be grateful the man hadn’t given away its location. Tim would have to visit him soon, to say thanks, and because he missed him badly.

The note read ‘for the gala,’ with a little smily face that was rather out of character for Alfred. Although, Tim had begged him to write less formal notes, so again, Tim let it slide.

Still, Tim pursed his lips, and eyed the note skeptically. It was hard saying no to Alfred. But the gala wouldn’t be a good idea for a multitude of reasons. For one, it would be very easy to get cornered by his family at one of their own galas. Secondly, he was almost certain that Lex Luthor was attending.

Tim was pretty sure Luthor knew their identities, or at least suspected something. Lex was the smartest man in the world (Tim hated admitting that), and he knows Red Robin is the host. Luthor could test for Venom right there at the gala. Fire. Sound. Probably some other twisted method Tim was unaware of.

Bart blurred around the suit, lifting its sleeves, testing its elasticity, stroking the softness, and then blinked in front of Tim. “It’s a nice suit.”

Cassie nodded, but pulled Bart back a little to look Tim in the eye, “Tim, I do think it could be a good idea to go. It really might help to tell your family.”

Tim shook his head, diverting his eyes from her sincere gaze, hands shaking as he smoothed the fabric out. They didn’t know. If they knew, they wouldn’t be giving him that advice. In fact, they wouldn’t be giving him any advice, because they would’ve thrown him in prison.

Tim, you didn’t kill those people.

Tim pressed two fingers to his temple, eyes closing, “I might as well have,” he whispered. As soon as he discovered Venom, he should’ve gone to the cave and locked himself up. At least until they could’ve found a way to separate them without Venom dying.

“Uh, Tim?” Cassie asked kindly, her strong fingers gently prying his own hand away from his head.

“I just don’t think it would be a good idea,” Tim said, dropping the sleeve and moving away from Cassies too-kind touch. “Hey, where’s Kon?”

Bart and Cassie exchanged an almost-smug look with one another, before Bart cleared his throat and rushed out, “he went to get some pies from his Ma. He said he’d be back soon.”

“Did he seem mad?” Tim asked in that super-casual-but-not-really voice that was becoming all the more common as of late.

“No. You two are fine, trust me,” Cassie said, patting his shoulder and moving him into the kitchen with a subtle nudge. Bart hung from his other shoulder, “yeah, I think you’ll get along better when you two admit your feelings for one another.”

Ooo, busted!

“ What ! No I — I do not.. have feelings !” Tim said, way too fast (and way too high pitched, jeez). Cassie and Bart shook their heads fondly, which only made him scowl more. “I’m being serious!”

“You’re so bad at feelings, Tim,” Cassie laughed, though she patted him sympathetically.

She’s right.

Tim pulled away from her grip, making space using the kitchen island, and therefore away from the conversation, “there are no feelings.”

“You will feel much better when you talk with Conner. It will explain both of your weirdness towards each other — yknow you’re angry with each other but it’s really because he’s upset you don’t trust him, which, yes Tim, we know you do trust him, but you’re bad at showing it and you’re just a big ball of repressed feelings and it’s creating this horrible tension,” Bart said in an oddly analytical manner.

Damn. He’s good.

Tim put up both hands in surrender, head bowed and eyes tightly closed, “I don’t want to talk about this now. Maybe later,” he conceded. Bart pumped his fist in the air, and then bumped fists with Cassie.

“That was basically admittance!”

“You guys are the worst,” he noted, deadpan.

Cassie dragged him in for another hug, face smushed against his as she cooed, “aww, you don’t mean that!”

And yes, Tim agreed wholeheartedly. They were the best.

——

Kon really had intended to go to Ma’s, talk to her for a bit, do some chores for her and then return to Tim’s apartment with some apple pies. But… well — Lex Luthor just happened to be right there in his stupid skyscraper in Metropolis on the flight back. Kon really couldn’t resist!

Okay, so maybe Kon was still a little salty about Tim’s excuse yesterday.

Kon crunched his way through the shattered glass, moving to sit at the grand desk at the back of the room. A gazillion alarms were probably going off right now. In fact, he could hear a strange whirring. He paid no mind, instead continuing to fuck with the back support on Luthors desk chair.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he shuffled all of the files on Lex’s desk until they were appropriately muddled up.

He also spent several moments watching the odd statue by the far wall. It was eerily realistic and he could’ve sworn it had moved. The statue was of a tall woman with short black hair and calm, almost lifeless features. He briefly wondered what the point of the glasses were. It seemed a waste. Then, again, Lex could be showcasing some fancy glasses tech — cameras, Bluetooth, who knows?

He X-rayed the room too. There were no lead-lined boxes, and therefore, no kryptonite.

Then, he waited.

Kon knew Lex would walk around the corner at this very moment ten minutes ago when he had picked up on his heartbeat elsewhere in the building and followed it all the way up (how can someone’s heartbeat sound evil?).

His DNA donor strutted through the doors, his heart beat steady and his smirk confident. Lex’s eyes landed on the shattered glass before they did on Conner, and when he did look at him, he tsked at Conner like he was a little child.

Apart from the tutting, Luthor remained entirely silent, his gaze contemplative and calm. Kon hated it. They hadn’t interacted very much, apart from the mind-control incident, which he wasn’t exactly present for, and any villain fight that involved Luthor. Kon knew enough psychology, from his brief time at school and Bart’s random facts from the SF library, that making the other person speak first was some sort of power move or mind-fuck or… something like that.

Kon couldn’t remember.

He’d ask Bart about it.

They glared - well, Conner glared - at each other until he found he could bear it no longer. “Do not go after Red Robin again,” Kon growled, finger pointed angrily in Luthors direction.

Kon used his X-ray vision to check Luthor over — he wasn’t stupid. He was on superman’s greatest enemies’ turf, it would be strange if Lex didn’t take precautions. There was no lead lined box within his suit jacket though, so Kon took several steps closer to get in his not-father’s face. “Do you understand?”

“That man is dangerous now,” Luthor said sternly, smoothening out his suit jacket while Conner continued to outright glare. “Nobody seems to grasp the threat that certain aliens pose to our life on this Earth.”

Kon scrunched up his fists, “you are the one that brought that alien here. What are you planning?”

“That is none of your concern. It won’t harm anybody. Apart from maybe your boyfriend,” Luthor said, brushing past Conner and heading for his desk. He leant back on his chair and scowled, “did you mess with this?”

“I will expose you to the public. I will ruin your reputation if you lay a finger on him.” Kon said seriously. The casual glint finally flickered out from Luthors eyes.

“You do not get to make the threats around here,” Luthor said, brow raised derisively. “Mercy, handle him.”

The statue, no — robot instantly pressed forward, gliding towards them both gracefully as she opened a pouch made of material he didn’t recognise and revealed that horrid green rock. The kryptonite instantly washed over him, that dull ache beginning in his spine and up to the very back of his skull. Shuddering, he dropped to his knees.

“If you had bothered to visit your father,” Kon scowled at the name, but Lex only continued, totally unbothered, “you’d know I have upgraded my security a lot.”

Kon took a whistling breath in through his nose, willing the nausea to go away, “you are not my father.”

Kon lurched torward Luthor, the robot stiffened then moved forward to intervene, but he collapsed again.

“No, I would’ve raised you better than this. Going into my place of work? With no plan? I do wonder how you are mine sometimes,” Luthor said, grabbing at Kons face and inspecting it closely, “you certainly don’t have my intelligence.”

Lex continued, “no, that’s not fair. I think you could be intelligent. You just let your emotions run you. And this little tantrum of yours will be your downfall — and Red Robins.”

Kon ignored him. There was some truth in there no matter how you looked at it. Instead, he focused. His supersenses weren’t just his powers, they were a physiological ability. The pouch swung loosely from that robots fingers - he knew that without even looking at her. The rock was kept above the mouth of the pouch.

He needed to strike fast and hard — impossible under the weight of kryptonite. But he needed to do something. He’d have to do some sort of fake-out. Retrieve the pouch, stash the kryptonite away. For Tim. He couldn’t let Luthor harm Tim.

Kon stood, little black spots appearing in his vision. With his legs wide apart and stance steady (as steady as could be under the influence of kryptonite), he rushed at Luthor on wobbling legs. The robot had some sort of attachment to the man — Kon had noticed earlier when she had reacted thoughtlessly to Conners (awful) attempt at attack. She quickly made chase, reaching one hand out to grab Kons collar. With a horrifying pace, she threw him over her shoulder. His back hit the floor. He smiled. Perhaps Tim’s training sessions really were useful.

Kon held the little pouch on one finger, and theatrically placed the kryptonite within. His strength ebbed slowly back. He didnt have time to gloat. The floor cracked as Kon pressed his hand to the floor, his TTK reached out, finding Mercy curiously and making quick work of disassembling her heavy arsenal.

He would be asking Tim for more training in sleight of hand — that really had been useful. Even if he’d done it rather sloppily. If it had been a human, he doubted he would’ve been able to snatch the pouch. It was only because she couldn’t feel touch that she had no idea he had taken it. He’d ask Tim for more help.

Luthor actually looked surprised. Kon let his TTK reach out again to shove Luthor into the wall, his limbs pressed firmly in a starfish shape. “I could expose you to the public.”

“Why haven’t you done it already?”

“You have good lawyers and it is damn hard to prove you’re guilty of anything thanks to all of your money. But if you hurt anyone that I care about, I will make sure you are put away for good.”

Okay, so, truth be told, Conner had absolutely nothing on Luthor. But he needed to get his point across so that Lex would stop. The worst part is, Luthor had sort of been behaving himself for the while, so there was literally nothing he could really do. The alien thing was bad, but it would expose Tim too. They’d have to bring that evidence to light after they returned Venom home. Conner really wanted to put this man away, and for a long time, he was tired of seeing people hurt.

Footsteps, which up until this point he’d been ignoring, tiptoed somewhere behind him. Briefly distracted, Conner turned to Mercy attempting a stealthy lunge towards him. Conner ducked, stuffing the pouch securely into his jackets’ inner pocket.

Kon kept an ear out for Luthor, but he only seemed to be edging around the outside of the room. Instead, he focused his efforts on the robot. Mercy was freakishly fast and strong — she wouldn’t be a problem for a kryptonian usually, but the kryptonite had him unarguably weakened.

He couldn’t just punch mindlessly like he usually did. He had to think. He had to plan. He sounded like Tim.

The two exchanged punches and kicks, whirling around each other at ridiculous speeds, graceful and desperate all at once — and finally, finally, finally, Kon landed a throw that sent Mercy rolling across the floor. She clunked to a stop when she reached the wall. He almost felt bad.

Kon turned his gaze to Lex. He still looked smug. The man stretched leisurely, his hand going behind a plant — Kons eyes widened and he made a move to run at Luthor.

He stumbled over his own legs as his powers disappeared. Overhead, the lights had flickered an ominous red. Red sun lamps.

Kon quickly recovered, and made chase after Luthor who took the opportunity to run back to his desk. Had he taken a self-defense class or something? And what was with the lack of evil monologue before flipping the switch? There had been a fight one time, Luthor had said a whole speech about pressing a switch to kill superman, and superman literally used his superspeed during the speech to stop him pressing the button. Why couldn’t it be that simple for Kon?

Luthor pulled his desk open, retrieving a gun and aiming at Kon. Kon froze. He had no superhealing under the light of the red sun lamp. He certainly wasn’t bullet-proof now. He was too far away to make a run for it.

Feeling very stupid, he raised his hands in the air, surrendering.

Blam!

He let out a surprised little whimper, hitting the ground.

——

Tim could see most of Gotham from this gargoyle. He couldnt remember its name. He had named it, but that was a long time ago. Bart sat beside him, surprisingly quiet.

Tim shoulder-bumped him, pulling a granola bar from his belt. Bart accepted with a small smile, “thanks. But you pulling food from your costume doesn’t make it any less stupid, Condom-head.”

“Gee, thanks,” Tim said drily, accepting the wrapper back from Bart and stuffing it in his pocket. Then, Tim sobered, “are you okay?”

“Do you remember when we came into Gotham when it was no-man’s-land?” Bart asked seemingly out of nowhere.

Tim nodded, “we got our butts handed to us in front of Batman.”

“Good times,” Bart said, then, looking guilty, he added, “don’t you sometimes miss it? Y’know when it was just us…”

“What do you mean?” Tim asked curiously.

“Back then, it was just us and our mentors. I don’t know… there’s just so many people now. I love my family, but sometimes I just feel left behind. I mean, people struggle to relate to me on the best of days, what with me being from the future and my metabolism issues…” Bart trailed off, his brow wrinkled guiltily.

Comfort him, Condom-Head!

“Don’t feel bad. I understand and I’ve felt that way too,” Tim said, trying to ignore Venom and his insistent rambling. “I miss when we were Young Justice Us,” Tim added, feeling but not seeing the little smile Bart did against his shoulder.

“I think we should have a space adventure again. I still have my rocket,” that mischievous glint returned to his friend, alongside his familiar grin.

“Once all of this blows over, we can have a space adventure,” Tim agreed. “We aren’t going to quadrant 0769 again though.”

Bart nodded quickly, “never again.”

It had neared three am by now, Tim knew, without looking at his watch. Bart had done surprisingly well in not using his powers at all during patrol and they had managed to stop several burglaries, a couple muggings and two street fights between gangs. There were no signs of Luthor or Ra’s and he was starting to get tired — yes, he could admit that.

“Wanna head back?”

“Can we watch a good movie this time?”

——

Tim’s eyelids drooped but wouldn’t stay closed. And it wasn’t because of the movie, although he was sure it would help if it wasn’t on. Then again, Bart would be noisier if it wasn’t on so really what he had now was the lesser of two evils.

Even his thoughts were foggy.

But he couldn’t sleep.

Ra’s was out there, waiting, and with knowledge of Venom. And his victims.

A quick wave of disapproval from Venom washed over him over the last bit. It was becoming a familiar feeling. And a familiar fight between them.

Stop thinking about it and we won’t fight.

“I don’t think I will,” Tim said primly.

Luthor knew of his weaknesses and wanted him.

His family were hunting for the person who decapitated all of those criminals and probably weren’t far from figuring it out, even with evidence missing — they were smart.

And Conner was mad at him. He hadn’t even returned from Ma’s and Tim was too scared of calling and being told to leave him alone.

Instead, he’d let Kon come to him.

It hurt though.

Cassie and Bart had urged him to at least send a text like they had.

No thank you.

He could be patient. He could wait.

You can be unbearable. Your thoughts are keeping me awake.

“Find a different host then,” Tim said grumpily, even though he didn’t mean it in the slightest. While he’d be glad to bring Venom home, it wasn’t really all bad.

We should go to the gala tomorrow. We could deal with Luthor right there, right then.

“Absolutely not.”

It would be useful to see if he knows your identity.

“I don’t need to go to know he knows my identity,” Tim muttered irritably. “Why are you being so insistent anyway?”

Gala. Something about that word is itching my brain. We must go. I think it’s something to do with my universe.

“Seriously, a gala?” Tim sighed skeptically.

Yes .

Tim considered it, “your host could attend galas, I suppose.”

I need to stop picking rich loser hosts.

“Gee, thanks. What makes you think your other host is a loser?”

I seem to dig those vibes.

“Gross.”

Not from you. You’re way too broody and mean and depressing.

“You’re really making me want to go to this gala…” Tim muttered sarcastically.

Suddenly, Bart was in front of him. Eyebrows furrowed and cheeks puffed out irritably, he stood with his hands on his hips, took in a deep breath, and unleashed his inner librarian. Once he was done shushing Tim, Bart mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. All the while, Tim sat in disbelief as Cassie and Venom chuckled at his expense.

“The best part is coming up, be quiet!”

——

It was just barely past seven in the morning when he got the message request. His eyes still had purple smudges and he hadn’t even gotten around to downing his grape zesti.

The others were sprawled across his furniture (Kon would insist bean bags were not furniture, but they were ) with their limbs all intertwined.

The image was dark enough that he had to turn up his brightness and —

His phone clattered to the floor as his grip slackened. That coldness washed down his spine. It was Conner. Tim hadn’t had long to inventory his injuries but the green tint to his skin showed clear as day the kryptonite poisoning. And there was blood — a lot of it. His hair was a mess too. And his eyes looked watery. Kons eyes never looked watery — apart from when he died…

The message — the message wasn’t even from this morning. No. It was from the night before. But Conner — how he was at that point was bad. A tendril reached out and turned the phone face down for him.

Tim willed himself to calm down. Conner was strong. Conner was a hero. Kon promised he would stay alive this time. He promised him.

Could it have gotten worse? The message was from yesterday now. How could he have made this mistake? Tim stumbled into a different room, away from his friends, to have his panic attack.

A panic attack which never came. The constricting pressure of Venom literally wrapped around his lungs and forcefully keeping his breathing normal was possibly the strangest sensations he had ever felt.

With his breathing surprisingly normal, he managed to recover that little bit faster. His voice was raw when he asked to see the message again.

It read, “shall we talk business.”

Oh, and would you look at that, the message was addressed to Tim Drake.

So much for secret identities, right?

The fear quickly disappeared behind the rush of anger he felt. He had to fight to keep his breathing in check for a completely different reason.

All he knew was that Lex Luthor was going to be punished this time. Tim would stop at nothing to see this through.

“Venom. We are going to the gala.”

——

Chapter Text

Several sensors began to blare. Long since had anyone really worried about that. Now, they’d just use their phones to check the cameras because Bruce finally deemed it ‘okay’, even though he still says it’d be better to ‘check in person’. Besides, it was almost always Jason setting them off on purpose to wake people up and/or piss Bruce off.

Nonetheless, Dick blindly patted his nightstand for his phone, squinting against the unpleasant brightness. It was very late for Jason - or early depending on how you looked at it. It was eight in the morning. Okay — so that wasn’t late for the average person — but a nightstalking vigilante? Yes. Horrible.

Dick made a mental note to figure out how to get his phone on dark mode - his eyes were burning. He swiped, finding the inconspicuous app with an innocent enough cover and name. Some sort of knock-off candy crush — of course, not really, it was the surveillance app. He clicked on it. After a password, he was in.

His eyes widened and he quickly moved to stand, not even sparing a second to put on his slippers.

Which was a mistake, because the cave floor was freezing.

Dick barrelled down the stairs, his feet slapping unpleasantly against the stone. He paused at the bottom, the heavy gaze of his brother immediately freezing him. Somehow, Tim looked like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

Which, technically, he had. Both Bart and Cassie were stood beside him. In the batcave.

“What are you doing here?” Dick asked, voice harsh from sleep. Tim’s face sort of closed off, the straight line of his lip curling downwards minutely. Dick cleared his throat and softened his voice, “are you okay?”

“Why are you up?” Tim said suspiciously.

Dick held his phone up, adding, “you set the alarms off when you came in. You sure you’re okay? That’s not like you.”

“I did it on purpose,” Tim said stiffly, finally breaking eye contact and moving for the computer. “I just assumed no one would check because Jason is always setting them off.”

“So, what are you doing?” Dick asked again.

Tim froze — he kept freezing actually. It was really strange. Then, he held his head and muttered something too quiet for Dick to hear.

He’d let it slide. Tim had always been a little odd.

“Helloooo,” Dick drawled, shaking his head disapprovingly, “you aren’t answering my question?”

Tim had that far away look for another second before he made eye contact again, “using the bat computer,” he said in a tone that suggested he was not happy about being asked all these questions.

Tim turned back to face the computer, already typing at that rapid pace. Tim swivelled another monitor to Bart and Cassie, who looked equally focused.

Oh, that was strange.

“Where’s Kon?” Dick questioned.

“Busy.” Tim said without turning around. Besides him, Bart and Cassie had stilled.

Dick wasn’t sure if it was worth pressing.

Maybe the two had had a falling out? Despite their close friendship, there was definite tension between the two that may be putting strain on them both. Tim really should just confess.

He opened his mouth — and found it being closed by a calloused hand. Immediately, he reacted. He moved to counter the attack and — landed on his ass.

He looked up at his “attacker” and sighed. Of course it was Cass.

“Don’t ask. Will make it worse,” Cass said, wrapping her hand around his and pulling him back up with ease.

Dick sniffed, “you didn’t have to throw me.”

Cass shrugged, pointing at Tim, “he found it funny.”

Dick opened his mouth to point out that that definitely wasn’t the case. Tim hadn’t even turned around. But she swept past him, moving to stand beside her other brother. Dick trudged after her.

While Tim made no effort to hide what he was doing, it was clear he didn’t appreciate them watching what he did.

“I’m thinking of going to the gala now,” Tim said curtly, his fingers still spidering along the keyboard.

Tim was looking at the building plans for where the gala was taking place. Luthor tended to go all out on these things, but, and rather last second Dick should add, he had changed the location to his place of work. A very ugly skyscraper. Dick would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed.

“Yeah, it is weird that he changed the venue so last second, right?” Dick asked, though it was more of a statement. “I don’t think there’s anything fishy going on there though, Tim.”

“Mhm,” Tim hummed neutrally.

“I’d like help, Tim,” Cass said on his other side, tapping at his shoulder with two fingers. That got his attention and he twirled around in his chair, eyebrows raised, expression inquisitive.

“Of course,” he said, even as his fingers twitched to get back at the keyboard.

“Ehh… private conversation,” Cass clarified, eyeing Bart, Cassie and even Dick.

Cass dragged him off before he could fully stand up, and he sort of stumbled over his feet. It made Bart laugh, but that’s not why she did it. As she walked away, she eyed Tim’s friends and finger-spelled ‘ investigate ’.

“Need any help?” Dick asked in his too-cheerful-but-very-fake tone.

Cassie appeared hesitant, but Bart immediately hauled him over to the computer. “We’re having trouble convincing Tim to go to the gala. We believe it would be good for him to talk to you guys. But to get him to go, we need to… check out all of the exits.”

“He could’ve done that from his safehouse,” Dick pointed out.

Cassie moved Bart aside firmly, and Dick didn’t miss her miming zipping his lips shut, even as she made a very good effort to laugh away Dicks perfectly reasonable question. “Yeah, I think he just wanted an excuse to see you guys,” Cassie smiled, patting his shoulder lightly. “Why’d you think he set off the sensor?”

That warm feeling that had been dimming over the past week with the distance of Tim sparked back, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

Dick really had to fight to keep the sigh of relief from slipping out. “I’m very happy to see him too. Honestly, between you and me, I’ve been worried. It’s been months since he’s been this far away…”

“Yeah, it has, hasn’t it?” Cassie agreed, folding her arms and looking off into the distance, presumably to where Tim and Cass were talking. “Pushing doesn’t help. Letting him brood doesn’t either. And now we have this whole mess.”

“What whole mess?” Dick pressed.

Bart, who up until this point, had stuck by the computer, zipped beside Cassie, grinning smugly, “and you say I conversationally dig myself into holes?” He turned to Dick, “we can handle this.”

Papers whipped through the air. That was the only sign that they sped away.

Recently, his detective skills had taken a hit. That last line of questioning was outright stupid. And way too direct. Why hadn’t he eased around the question first?

Dick moved to the computer, and, interlocking his fingers together, he outstretched his arms. Each digit cracked. He had noticed them stick a usb in there, and now it was gone (obviously). He couldn’t help but wonder what else had been taken.

He trusted Tim. He didn’t trust Tim’s ability to take proper care of himself - even if he had gotten better now. Whatever his plan was, it couldn’t be the best. Tim had taken precautions on that usb stick though - Dick couldn’t even figure what they had taken. Damn, Bart must be behind that.

“Cass? How did Tim seem?” Dick asked as he clicked away at the keyboard. He paused, not hearing the intentionally loud footsteps she’d usually do to not frighten people, “Cass?”

Sighing, he checked the cameras. He was greeted with Cass waving directly at the lense. Then, she took off out of the cave and after Tim.

“Could’ve warned me,” Dick sulked, already rising out of his seat too.

——

Cass settled on the edge of the roof. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved that Dick hadn’t managed to catch up to them. He’d mess it up. He’d already messed it up. He was normally good at what he did, the investigating, the detectiv-yness of the job. You put his family into the equation though, and he just… can’t.

It would be endearing if it wasn’t so irritating. She really needed to watch after Tim.

See. It had helped for her to mention her own problem, which, by the way, was very awkward. Showing interest in your little brother’s ex girlfriend made for a very odd conversation. But to be fair, he was showing interest in Kon, who was Cass’ sort-of ex boyfriend. They were even. And really, Tim had taken it quite well. Very well actually. He even offered to help set up their first date. Which was sweet.

Regardless, Dick had somehow failed an interrogation against Bart and Cassie which had been the entire point of her and Tim’s conversation (along with gaining his approval, which he gave happily).

Tim moved again. Cass followed. The morning sun shined down through the thick Gotham clouds. She didn’t have long. Alfred would be mad at her too. Perhaps drawing out the process of fitting her suit for the gala had been a bad idea.

Bart and Cassie had zipped back to Tim’s safehouse in Crime Alley. Yes, Cass knew where he lived. No, she didn’t plan on visiting uninvited. Nobody liked being cornered, Cass knew that too. She knew that well.

Tim dropped into an empty warehouse, letting his cape wrap around himself as he slouched over to a workbench. “Appears empty. Luthors had his men clean up. I’m not entirely sure what he’s specifically planning in Gotham, but I think we’ll find out tonight.” Tim fiddled with the commlink at his ear, even as he inspected the desk, “no, I’m not stalling time here so I don’t have to get ready.” He removed the commlink.

Cass stilled on the overhead beam, watching Tim’s continued efforts for trace evidence. He dusted the area for prints and sampled other things in the warehouse with little test tubes.

“I could just go right now,” Tim said to himself. Though his body language — that was weird. Cass squinted. It appeared he was talking to someone and not himself.

“I only promised to ask for help if I need it. I don’t need help right now,” Tim said stubbornly.

Who was he talking to?

Cass rubbed at her eyes cautiously.

“I have a bad feeling about tonight,” Tim added, “are you gonna help me with this?”

Whatever response he got from whoever he was speaking to clearly had no interest in helping. Tim sighed, “I’ll just do it myself.”

Cass’ eyes widened. There was no one here but the two of them. Maybe Tim had heard her? But no, his body language wasn’t how it usually was when he spoke with her.

“I need to interrogate a scientist. Preferably one from that lab,” Tim was fucking around with the laptop that had been left behind. “It’s been wiped. It’ll take too long for me to sort this before tonight.”

If he asked Oracle, she’d be able to sort it before tonight. Cass frowned a little. Watching her brother attempt a mission by himself, when it’d be made easier with the assistance of their family, was oddly painful.

“Yes, I know. I still don’t like going in blind though…”

Was Tim hallucinating again?

It didn’t matter. It was clear that whatever was happening at the gala tonight was actually a mission.

“Shit, did we forget to check for cameras again?” Tim asked himself, his eyes flying up to the top corners of the room. Cass crawled back into the shadows, entire body going still.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I’ve never been so sloppy in all my life,” Tim sighed, rubbing his hand against his cowl - normally, that gesture would be him combing his hair back. A nervous tic. One he didn’t show that often, and if he did, it was played off as intentional.

“Okay, yeah… maybe my Red Robin days were worse but that isn’t a fair comparison,” Tim assented, finally bringing the room back to order and heading for a window.

For now, she had all the information she needed, and she could help her brother. He was hallucinating and talking to himself.

Following close behind, she left the deserted warehouse.

——

Tim allowed himself a moment to catch his breath. Bart and Cassie had managed to trace Luthors’ software back to several addresses in Gotham. And, they had somehow managed to manipulate Dick into thinking Tim had wanted an excuse to visit. That felt kinda mean. He was not supposed to have set those sensors off. Tim had honestly just not been at his best since he’d gotten that video of Conner.

Luthor wouldn’t kill Conner. Luthor said that much himself, it would be a waste of materials. Tim hated that. Conner was a person. Not an object. Tim would make Luthor pay.

Someone is following us.

“For how long?”

Since before that warehouse.

“You’re kidding?”

I thought you’d benefit from someone knowing what we are.

“That’s not your decision to make! They’re going to think I’m crazy again.”

Want me to get you out of here?

Tim scoffed, “what do you thi— woah !”

Tim hadn’t had any time to comprehend what had happened. All he felt was the heavy Gotham wind whipping at his face as he shot through the air.

And then he was falling, fast and hard. Tim wasn’t really worried. Tendrils that resembled tentacles slowed his fall, though several buildings creaked under the pressure. Some bricks definitely loosened, maybe even fell. Tim would sort it later.

Tim rolled his shoulder, wincing. “A little warning would be nice, next time.”

And then, a bottle rolled. Tim whipped around, searching for the sound. Several civilians peeped from behind a dumpster.

Tim found the deeper register of his Red Robin voice, and let his body loosen, “are you guys okay? What happened?” As soon as his gaze found them, several of them let out a whimper and ran away.

“Uh…”

They must’ve seen us…

Tim groaned.

They didn’t get any pictures.

Tim waved Venoms comfort away, “it’s fine. We need to get ready for that gala, and save Kon.”

——

Dick let the sheet of paper fall harmlessly back to the desk, and out of his direct line of sight,  “you’re kidding, right?”

“My dad told me. Multiple witnesses said the same thing,” Babs let the information settle for a moment, before continuing, “that is four witnesses reporting Red Robin having tentacles of some sort.”

Dick let the silence envelope them once more. Then, in disbelief, said, “you’re considering it?”

“I’ve seen the footage of the witnesses,” Babs said, not unkindly. “They know what they saw.”

“Could be a hallucinogen?” Dick offered.

Babs scoffed, less kind, “and they all saw the exact same thing?”

“Mindcontrol?” Dick tried, weakly.

“Dick, please. Realistically, we are either dealing with a shapeshifter of some sort, or Tim has… grown tentacles.”

Dick huffed, “and you laughed at my ideas!”

“My ideas are scientifically sound. Yours are not. Mindcontrol cannot explained tentacles.”

“Tentacles?” Cass asked, suddenly appearing beside Dick. It took so much effort for him not to jump. Cass grinned.

Her costume was gone now, and between leaving after Tim and returning, she was already ready for the gala. Her suit was simple and yet very elegant. Dick just knew Steph would be ogling her all night, and then telling everyone about it.

“Babs believes Tim has grown tentacles,” Dick said scathingly.

Cass snorted, but sobered quickly. “He managed to evade me just now.”

Dicks eyebrows shot up his forehead.

Maybe Tim really had grown tentacles.

“We can get him at the gala,” Dick promised.

——

“I’m really impressed, Tim,” Cassie said, clapping him on the shoulder. “This plan is really great.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, “yeah… can I just go over it one more time.”

Bart sighed, “i have an eidetic memory. Cassie isn’t stupid.” Cassie shoved him, giving him a meaningful look, “however, if you must, you can go over it again,” the speedster added, looking somewhat chastised.

Tim almost smiled. Almost. They couldn’t be too mean to him when his plan actually involved teamwork and not his ability to handle everything by himself.

“I am —“ there was a twisting in his stomach, he groaned, then corrected himself, “ Venom and I are going to be at the centre of the gala until we find an opening with Luthor. This is where we are the distraction. He will do the classic evil monologue and whatnot, while Bart you make sure that no civilians will be within any harming range if something goes wrong in Cassies part — if she sets something off or whatever. No matter what Cassie you will set alarms off when you retrieve Kon from the top floor but I won’t tell you to go until I have Luthor properly dealt with. Oh, there is a robot I learned about in the batcave. Answers to Mercy. Be careful.”

Cassie gave him a careful once over, “that plan wasn’t said with your usual… finesse. Are you okay?”

“I’ll feel better when I have Kon back,” Tim said honestly. It sort of made him nauseous how sincere that had sounded.

Venom made awful kissing noises in his head.

Cassie let her curled hair fall back from the twisting ponytail she had been holding it in, “how sweet! We’ll get him back and then I’m setting you two up whether you like it or not,” she said with a grin and a wink.

“How are you and Cissie doing?” Tim asked back with a grin of his own. To Cassies credit, she no longer blushed like a school girl and spoke dreamily of the archer.

Bart snorted, “those two are way too TMI. While we were out buying Cassies formal dress we called Cissie to show her. I have never heard so much dirty talk in my life. And I learned way too much.”

“Yeah, thanks for giving me your credit card, Tim. Cissie loves you for it.”

Tim barked out a laugh, then bowed humorously, “happy to be of service.”

Bart and Cassie took up the brunt of the conversation after that, their words washing over Tim pleasantly. Tim hadn’t felt this way on a mission in a long time.

He missed Young Justice.

“Bart and I were talking about Young Jus—,” the alarm on his phone rang shrilly in the small space of the car. “Okay, one more time,” Bart groaned, but Tim only laughed, and continued, “I’ll be on the dance floor until I can find Luthor, Bart you will be doing ground control to ensure none of the traps Cassie sets off will harm civilians, and Cassie you will wait for my signal and go for Kon.”

“I can’t believe you bought me a dress when I won’t even be in the gala,” Cassie said, already climbing through the backseat and into the drivers spot.

Tim rolled his eyes, “it’s in case anyone sees you on the way up.”

“Tim, I can fly faster than anyone could see me. You just wanted to treat me,” Cassie said, poking him playfully.

Tim pushed the door open before she could keep teasing him. So what? He had a lot of money and he loved his friends. His love language was probably gift giving. Or that one where you enjoy spending time with them.

Tim didn’t know why he was thinking about this now.

He needed to get his head in the game.

Bart followed him out, letting his oversized suit flop out behind him. “I’ll try and keep your family at bay too.”

Tim gave him the last smile he could muster before the mission, “thank you.”

Bart punched him companionably in the shoulder, then dragged him until they were in front of the definitely-bulletproof glass doors. Tim straightened up, then turned to Bart and tried to comb at the tangled fluff of his hair. It was incredibly windswept from when he ran them all to Metropolis.

Bart swatted him away, “stop fussing.”

“Ready?” Tim asked, already pulling the door open. It was odd that Lex had no one at the door. There was chatter and music and generic party sounds looming ahead, so it wasn’t a trap.

Still felt weird though.

And he wasn’t sure why he was asking Bart if he was ready. Bart was steady, reliable and surprisingly calm. Even as Impulse, he had always been good, smart too when he felt like it. But now, as Kid Flash, he had matured and it was Tim who had the jitters now. Still, Tim asked because Bart would have to keep the speed under wraps for the entire mission (unless, of course, the mission went sideways).   

Knowing you, it’s going to go sideways.

Bart grasped at Tim’s hands, steadying them. “We got this. We’ll get him back.” Bart reached out for his chest and directed his eyes there. Tim tilted his head curiously as Bart started talking to his torso, “Venom, look after Tim for me?”

Tim scoffed as Bart snickered. Then, Venom actually spoke through Tim’s own mouth, a raspy “I will,” escaping from between Tims lips.

“Whoa! I didn’t know he could do that!” Bart said, excitedly looking into Tim’s mouth now.

“Me either,” Tim said drily, clearing his throat when his voice came out hoarse.

Making the last few steps towards where all the chattering and clinking glasses were happening, Tim and Bart took a deep breath and then pushed the next set of double doors open.

Fashionably late and dazzled by the flashing of the paparazzi cameras, Tim ducked low and ushered Bart through the room. Venom was making a weird sort of moaning sound in his head all the while. Tim actually had to take a break and brace himself against a table.

Bart looked nervous now, leaning down to make eye contact, “Tim?”

Tim let his head spin a little longer. “Venom?”

Despite being far from the cameras now, the lights continued to flash behind his corneas and into his brain. From somewhere getting further away, Bart said his name again, urgently, but his voice sounded underwater.

Images of a rugged man with blond cropped hair and large muscles flickered in his head, too vivid and too bright. Venom was murmuring (telepathically) something about ‘steady rock’?

The man vaguely resembled Azrael — if Azrael was unwashed and had an unfortunate haircut. Tim tried to push that thought away.

Tim opened his eyes again to Bart inches from his face and somehow now being sat in a chair.

Bart gently slapped his hands to Tim’s cheeks to ground him, “up. Up. Your family is cutting through that crowd like a knife. You have about ten seconds until they’re here.”

Tim let his eyes adjust to the light, “have you seen Lex yet?”

Bart nodded, eyes squinting, “up there.”

The entire room was huge, and almost resembled a ballroom — a ballroom if it was in a lame office skyscraper. There was a large staircase plush against the other end of the room.

Tim would have to get through the clustered dancing bodies, and through his family, to reach the calmly smirking Lex Luthor. Tim hated that smug bastard.

Tim hovered his hand over a candle, letting the flame lick his skin so briefly. That jolted Venom back to the present, and Tim suspected the alien would sound out of breath if he was out  (despite not taking in any breath — it was complicated).

Tim, I know who my host is.

“Who your lover is, you mean,” Tim snorted, grabbing a decanter of water and pouring himself a generous glass full. He let the cool water run down his throat pleasantly, then took  a confident step onto the dance floor. “It’s going to be okay, we’re going to save Kon and then find your “buddy” and get Lex—“ Tim froze.

A man — it had been so brief. Barely more than a second. In deep green robes and with skin a shade darker than that of Damian’s. Those awful green eyes. And… he’d been staring right at him.

No. It was a trick of the light. Why would Ra’s al Ghul be here?

Tim’s stomach did not settle.

Tim took a less confident step onto the dance floor, a lady (much older than him) swirling him up into the first part of the dance. Ugh, it was one of those dizzying songs where you constantly swapped dance partners as the song went on.

No matter, he just had to push through.

Via a dance .

The lady, lightly wrinkled, looked to be just older than Bruce. And thankfully, her gaze was more sweet and motherly than it was hungry, like several women he had had the misfortune of running into at previous galas.

He spun her around, but not with his usual grace. The woman bit her lip, reholding his hand as they went back to that weird waltz/tango dance move he didn’t really know the name of. “Sweetie, you look a little pale? Do you need to sit down?”

Tim laughed nervously, “ah, no I’m okay Mrs Perez—“ somewhere his subconscious had finally reminded him of her name, “how are you finding tonight?”

As Mrs Perez chattered away, suitably distracted, Tim mouthed the words ‘take over for me’ over and over until Venom got the message.

If you insist.

Venom sounded giddy.

That wasn’t good.

At the switch in the song, where you swap out for a new partner, Venom took charge of his body. Steps more precise and dancing less ridiculous, Venom waltzed through the room, all the while dialoguing about his Eddie.

I’m rather practised thanks to him. What with him being a reporter — sometimes he got to dance at these things too. Although, my Eddie tended to report on actual important news, not snotty rich fundraisers who don’t actually care about their cause.

Tim wanted to point out that Luthor didn’t care about anything, but he couldn’t exactly start talking to himself again. Or shit talk the person running the gala.

Sometimes Venom would say something, and if it matched with the conversation Tim was having with his dance partner, he could answer Venom at the same time he answered whoever was in his arms. It was rather complicated and definitely starting to hurt his brain — but it was also distracting his brain and forcing him to actually think. He’d need all his brain cells for his mission, thank you.

He felt like he’d be losing his brain cells as quick as he gained them from all the dancing. They had only just started and Tim felt dizzy. Venom dragged him along in dizzying spins and twists, painfully so. Yep, his brain was spinning too.

His current dance partner, a handsy middle-aged woman, finally released him in a dizzying twirl (don’t ask why he wasn’t the one leading) and straight into — shit! Straight into none other than a badly-disguised Jason Todd.

Ah shit.

Tim shared that sentiment. Thankfully, Venom kept Tim entirely steady and calm-looking, even as Jason had him caught in a tight knuckle-whitening grip.

Tim finally found his voice, again, a little hoarse, and said, “oh hi Jason! Fancy seeing you here.” He somehow managed to squeeze a disgusting amount of innocentness into his voice.

Jason grunted, “don’t play dumb. There’s something wrong. What’s wrong?”

“Uh, nothing? I’m just enjoying the gala,” Tim said, forcing as much confusion into his voice as possible without sounding stupid.

“Heard you’ve grown tentacles.”

Tim couldn’t stop the shocked choke of breath, which he promptly disguised as a weird huff of laughter. “Have you been drinking?”

“You know I don’t drink.”

“So there really isn’t an explanation for why you’re so… y’know?” Tim muttered sarcastically.

“You know that’s—“

Jason was still talking but Tim wasn’t paying him any attention now. They were so close to the edge of the dance floor now, he only had to get through one set of dancers.

Dick and Damian (yikes) were making their way through the dancers at a dangerous pace.

Feeling desperate, Tim took the lead and judo-throwed Jason as subtly as he could, straight into his other two brothers. He didn’t even stop to see what had happened, diving through the legs of those other dancers.

Finally through the crowd, Tim straightened up, heading for the stairs. Without a commlink in his ear, Tim felt oddly defenceless as he marched up towards Luthor. Still, he had his button to tell Cassie to grab Kon. And that’s all he needed, really.

“Ah, Mr Drake. What a pleasant surprise,” Luthor said, putting one hand on his back and leading him up the last few stairs.

“Luthor,” Tim acknowledged tightly.

“Let’s discuss our future endeavours elsewhere,” Luthor conversed lightly, keeping a steady hand on his back as he guided him through the hall at the top of the steps.

“It’s so nice to be invited,” Tim muttered drily as Luthor pulled him along until they reached a nicer set of oak double doors. There was a fireplace and plush seating. It was weird for an office building. “Homely,” Tim commented.

“Quite,” Luthor agreed. “Yesterday, I believed it would be easy to deal with you. You’re arrogant, and work alone.”

Ah, the monologue begins.

Tim snorted.

Luthor looked interested more than anything else, but continued at his previous point. “If I hadn’t had help of my own, you would’ve surely bested me tonight.”

“I believed you would punch now, talk later. A one man mission to free your buddy . But then, a man I’m sure you’re familiar with opened up communications with me.”

“He told me that you would ask your friends for help — that’s how he had been defeated. Now, I had seen you investigating labs alone, having mental breakdowns on rooftops alone. I really expected you to deal with this alone. I would’ve been blindsided by your friends tonight if it wasn’t for that man.”

Tim felt a sense of foreboding he couldn’t quite help.

“Ra’s al Ghul is a pleasant man. He’s offered to deal with your friends, while I deal with you.”

Tim felt Venom stirring inside.

Luthor revealed a little remote, pointing it right at Tim. “So let’s deal with you.”

A flash of light, a sound similar to that of a sonic boom, and Tim was in a different room.

It was colder up here. All glass and sky and the expanse of Metropolis. He was at a completely different altitude now. “You seriously used a boom tube to take us to the top of the building!? There’s elevators for that!” Tim shouted, getting over the initial shock.

“Tim!” a barely recognisable voice rasped, lungs whistling and breath uneven.

Tim whipped around at break-neck speed, eyes widening at the sight of his best friend. He was a mess. One of his eyes had swollen over and there was dried blood at his brow. There were bandages haphazardly wrapped around his thigh, but blood already seeped through that. There was kryptonite by him too. In fact, his skin appeared a pale green colour.

Tim more rapidly pressed at the button.

“Kon…” Tim whispered.

Luthor was between them though.

After another failed attempt at communication with Cassie, Tim definitely felt uneasy. “What did you do to Cassie?” he gritted out.

“We didn’t do anything to Cassie ,” Luthor said smugly.

“Then who?!” Tim shouted, taking another step towards him. Finally, Tim was on the man, hands tangled in his green blazer and nails digging at his skin. “Bart?”

“Mercy,” Luthor commanded, and Tim tensed up — but, she didn’t attack him? Instead, the robot shot past them and towards Conner, and only just now did Tim realise a major problem with where they were.

Kon was on the edge of the rooftop, and now a robot had him hanging by his collar, completely off of the edge. And it wasn’t like Tim could even save him if he started to fall. As soon as Kon starts to fall at a certain velocity, to try and slow him down with the assistance of Venom when Kon was that weak would instantly kill him. So to just make a run at him was out of the question.

Tim was quick to let go of Luthors shirt, even taking a step back out of his face. “Wait, I’m sorry.”Mercy slowly - agonisingly so - lowered Kon back until his tiptoes touched the roof.

Luthor cleared his throat, “if you must know, I enlisted al Ghul to take some hostages to… stop any quick getaways,” Luthor pulled up a screen, revealing the athletic figure of Cissie, and the gentle slouch of Greta.

Tim really tried to stay calm, he really did. Cissie was clearly looking after Greta, and they had no noticeable injuries. Even so, that was Greta. Greta who had no involvement in the team since their young justice days. Greta who wanted a normal life away from the heroics. Greta who was one of his closest friends.

Blood trickled down his fingers from the little crescent-moon indents he dug in his palm. “Let them both go. They aren’t involved in this.”

“You’re right. They aren’t,” Luthor assented, “and they don’t have to be if you just hand yourself over.”

Tim only hesitated for a half a second, and that was for Venom. At the end of the day, whatever Tim would be subjected to, so would Venom. Not that it mattered, Venom immediately telepathed a clear ‘it’s okay’ and ‘I can wait a little while longer’ and Tim nodded.

“Okay, whatever you want. I’ll do. Just get Kon away from that roof and leave Greta alone,” Tim agreed easily.

Tim promised Venom as clearly as possible in his own mind, that once they were taken, he’d do everything in his power to get them back outside to find Eddie.

It’s alright, Tim.

“Tim, you can’t do this! Don’t give yourself over, please. Tim, please !” Kon begged, nose running and mouth garbling.

“Kon, you’d do the exact same thing. Besides, I don’t think I could live without you again,” Tim said, feeling oddly relieved. “Kon, I — just be safe, okay?”

“Tim, you can’t do this! Tim, I need you. I need you, please don’t go,” Kon shrieked, his hands shakily reaching out for Tim.

“Everything will be okay, Kon,” Tim promised.

Luthor put a hand on his shoulder, “what a nauseating goodbye. Let’s go.”

DING—

The elevator, which hadn’t made any of the usual noise to show its progress, opened with a slick click. The entirety of Tim’s family poured out of that damn elevator. As if his life wasn’t already complicated enough.

Several of them shouted his name, clearly having seen the possessive grip at his shoulder.

“Hm, how interesting… looks like it’s plan B after all. Ra’s is going to be so pleased,” Lex noted to himself, sending a head tilt in Mercy’s direction. “Goodbye, Clone.”

The immediate stomach drop he felt was one of the worst experiences he had ever experienced. One moment, Kon was screaming and crying — but safe and sound, and the next, he was falling through the air.

“Venom! We must—“ Tim felt the overwhelming pressure as Venom wrapped his tendrils around and within him, not wasting time to adjust as he threw himself after Kon.

There were several screams behind him. His family. This wasn’t how he’d wanted things to end. This isn’t really how he wanted to be remembered.

But Kon was falling, and there was no time to waste.

At this speed, trying to slow Kon down would never work. His body was just too weak to survive the change in velocity. It would end with them side by side, Kon a splat on the pavement, and Tim alive, alone again.

Kons eyes were wide from below him, and he was screaming with heart ache. Tim reached out, making himself as least air-resistant as possible. Once he caught up, he grabbed Kon in a steady grip.

“You idiot! Save yourself right now,” Kon screeched, burying his head in the crook of Tim’s neck, “please Tim. Please, please.”

“I can’t do that,” Tim said quietly, then, taking a deep breath, he promised, “everything is going to be okay.”

Kon looked broken. Devastated. The powerful blue glint in his eye was gone, entirely hollowed out by their grim future.

“Venom, you know what I want you to do,” Tim said, letting his breath come out shaky just this once. A tiny sign of weakness. He needed Kon to know that he had had something to live for. That he wasn’t at the edge of rooftops anymore. No, Kon made him want to live. Young Justice did too.

“Tim, please!” Kon was sobbing now.

He just hoped Kon would understand that he was also something Tim would die for. That’s how important he was.

I’m really going to miss you, Tim. Take care.

Venom sluggishly unhooked himself from Tim, and attempted to burrow into Kon. As soon as Venom attached himself to Kon instead, he could begin to heal him of the poisoning and wounds, and make him invulnerable to the rapidly incoming pavement. Tim brushed Kons curls out of his eyes, and wiped away his tears, smiling at him.

Shit. His kryptonian skin is tough. This is going to take me a second.

“I love you, Kon. and I can’t live without you. Please don’t feel guilty, this is my choice,” and Tim leant in, his mouth connecting with Kons hesitantly. It took a second, but Kon responded almost feverishly. Their embrace was desperate, with as much skin-to-skin as physically possible. Venom took the opportunity to fully bond with Kon. Tim wasn’t sure if he shivered from the loss of Venom or the gentle kiss.

He didn’t have time to decipher it, because in the next millisecond, he hit the pavement.

——

Chapter Text

Gotham was quiet.

It was always quiet now.

It had taken an entire week for Batman to return to the streets, and when he did, it was with a thunderous intensity that sent criminals fleeing, tail between their legs (figuratively, of course). Batman didn’t have any sympathy left to give to the criminals, nothing to spare.

The lab assistants, and those who guarded the place, were taken out with a sharp precision. Those still willing to come out and do their usual round of crime were punished swiftly for it. But that wasn’t the case after the first week.

After that first week, it was quiet.

It was as if Gotham was mourning too.

Red Robins patrol route was near impossible to stomach. Not only had crime ceased, but the streets were lined with shrines and flowers and candles that hurt to look at.

It hadn’t taken Gotham long to recognise their loss.

Jason found something incredibly unnerving about it.

He couldn’t exactly put his finger on why.

He didn’t let himself think about it.

Being the only one able to (barely) handle the horror that was Red Robins patrol route, Jason kept to the shadows and watched. Nothing would happen though.

And that was half of the problem. He needed a distraction. For once, crime was wanted and it never came.

Jason gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Everything was falling apart. Even outside of Gotham. People had quickly caught on to Red Robins disappearance. He was no longer in San Francisco on weekends. Pictures from the media could only get shots of the Titans in clear anguish.

Jason didn’t like social media. He didn’t really understand it. But Stephanie, who occasionally accompanied him on patrol now, cried and cried when even her instagram feed would remind her that, oh yes, one of her best friends’ was dead.

As if she knew he was thinking of her, Steph appeared from thin air.

“Your senses are off, zombie boy,” she said, voice carefully light as she clapped her hand on his back and moved to sit beside him at the edge of the roof.

Jason shrugged. He didn’t really feel like talking tonight. When he didn’t say anything, she watched him for a long moment, and then continued, “what’s happening is just like… when you died.”

Jason didn’t like where this conversation was headed. It had been one of the reasons the quiet made him nervous. He couldn’t help but wonder if this is how it went when he had died.

“The streets were quiet, save for the criminals still stupid enough to face Batmans grief. Tim changed that. He… healed Bruce,” she said, letting a tear roll down her cheek for the briefest of seconds before rubbing at her eyes.

Steph sort of crumpled, “it’s not the same anymore, y’know? Tim… brought the family back together and now he’s gone… and everything is weird and I miss him so much. Dick hasn’t returned from Bludhaven. Cass is grieving so hard I don’t even recognise her, nor know how to help. Alfred is baking Tim’s favourite cookies like he thinks he’s going to walk through the door again. Barbara hasn’t left the clocktower once but I know she’s trying to bring Luthor down. But Bruce… he’s… not coping again.”

Jason stilled, letting Stephs confession wash over him. A couple of years back, Jason would have been thrilled. But now all he could feel was bone-deep tiredness and an emptiness from a place in his heart he hadn’t even realised Tim had dug into.

“I don’t know what to do,” Steph whispered, voice cracking. Her fingers scrunched up her suit at the knee, and she looked at Jason almost expectantly. It made Jason’s heart beat faster. It was so much responsibility, and he was grieving too.

Though, sometimes, Jason didn’t believe he deserved to grieve for someone like Tim. While possibly the most irritating person to grace this Earth, the boy - man, really - had been compassionate, and kind and forgiving. Jason hadn’t ever apologised, and still, Tim forgave him. Water under the bridge. “No biggie”.

Maybe he could fix things. By keeping some of the family together. “I’ll talk to Bruce. See if I can get Dick to come over. That might help Damian too.”

The kid was all but silent now.

“Okay…” Steph breathed, pressing her forehead to his shoulder slowly. “Thank you.”

Jason felt the wetness of her tears leak through his clothes. Somehow, it was colder than the Gotham chill.

Jason closed his eyes.

——

Dick trudged through Titans Tower. The air was thick with grief. Nobody hung out in the den like they usually did. There was a stack of dirty crockery in the kitchen sink. Half of the members weren’t present, and some not-members were. He had found them all in Tim’s room.

A girl, by the name of Cissie, had a blonde girl he didn’t recognise and Bart in her arms, with Cassie between her legs. Another girl, with dark skin and pink hair was separated from them, arms crossed, equally miserable.

They had been crying.

But then again, who hadn’t?

Jason had managed to convince Dick to come over for Friday night dinner. It went about as well as you’d expect. And it only made Dick feel worse. Now ontop of the grief, he felt guilty for hiding away from his family and not helping them through it.

The dinner had been a painful experience. For everyone involved, which was pretty much everyone barring Barbara, who hadn’t left the clocktower since….

He needed to see Babs soon. He just hadn’t quite worked up the courage yet. During Tims early days as Robin, Dick and Tim had been close, and by connection, Tim had grown close to Babs too. That was when Dicks relationship with Bruce was strained, and so when he was in Gotham, he was with Babs. Tim didn’t mind third wheeling. Actually, Dick suspected at that point, Tim didn’t care who he was with so long as he wasn’t alone. He probably minded third wheeling a bit. But Tim had been desperate for approval back then.

Dick knew he was crying now.

All three of them, Dick, Babs and Tim, had all been good at the computer-y stuff (Babs obviously the best), and had a sort of computer club once a week. Dick wasn’t sure of the truth of it, but he was certain Tim had been going up until the… alien situation?

He was getting off topic. Dinner had been a nightmare. Babs wasn’t there to redirect the conversation. Alfred had cooked up all sorts of monstrosities that Tim used to insist tasted nice (the famous artichoke heart pizza). Damian was entirely silent, and disappeared halfway through. Steph and Jason tried to keep up conversation. It didn’t work. Cass silently cried. And Bruce, well Bruce was nowhere to be seen. And didn’t that just ignite some old anger?

The family was falling apart. Again. And where was he? Gone. Again.

Everything was falling apart around him. Dick wasn’t strong enough to bring the family together. Not like Tim had, all those years ago. Dick just wanted his brother back.

Dick took another ragged breath, his surroundings rushing back to him. The kids — well, they were young adults now — watched him worriedly, their own grief briefly interrupted.

Now, he was sat on the bed. Somehow. He didn’t know when that had happened. One of Tim’s friends’ were tugging at his clothes. Probably should say something. The words don’t come though. He doesn’t know what to say. He does know that none of them like him very much, not because they blame him or anything. Some sort of solidarity with Tim, maybe. Which makes sense, Dick had been a pretty crappy brother while Bruce had been dead. Dick exhaled shakily, trying to collect himself. “I’m… sorry for interrupting. I was just grabbing Tim’s stuff, and it all hit me at once again. I’m sorry.”

The tugging stopped, quickly replaced with a soothing sort of petting. “Don’t be sorry.”

“No I am. I shouldn’t… be here. Me and Tim, we never… we didn’t even sort through our issues. I never even got to apologise properly — he wouldn’t want me here.”

Cassie rolled her eyes — so she was definitely a little annoyed by him, but nonetheless said, “you know he wasn’t mad at you, right? Not about the Robin thing with Damian. He just couldn’t tell you about his situation, but even so, he wanted to.”

“But he never got to.” Dick said, without thinking. But it had been haunting him. That day. Watching Tim being led away by Luthor and his demon claws, all the while trying to apologise to some irrelevant party-goer who he had collided with in the scuffle on the dance floor (courtesy of Tim).

If he could have been a better brother, maybe Tim would have gone to him sooner, and then none of it would have happened. Dick hated the alien — “Venom” — for putting Tim into a position where he couldn’t go to his family. Who knows how Tim felt, having had an alien use his body to kill. Dick knew how Tim felt about the no kill rule (strongly in favour). Maybe that’s why he couldn’t live anymore? Was Tim suicidal? Was he afraid they wouldn’t accept him? Dick could have stopped all of those feelings. Maybe Tim wouldn’t have killed himself…

Tim didn’t kill himself. Tim didn’t kill himself. Tim didn’t kill himself.

Dick had to remind himself of that a lot. It was the only thing keeping him sane.

And then he’d see it again. The way Tim dived after Kon, expression unexplainable. There was fear there, but something else too. He couldn’t name it. He didn’t really want to. And Dick certainly wouldn’t forget the sound Tim made when he hit the floor — a sharp sound — one that vaguely resembled popcorn popping.

Dick gagged. He needed to get away. Away from Tim’s messy-and-yet-organised room that still smelled like him. From Tim’s friends, who were trying to deal with their own grief. He needed something.

The next moment, the big green eyes of Kori were right in front of him, glistening with her own unshed tears. “One thing at a time, Love. We can deal with Tim’s room later. Let’s leave the kids be, alright?”

It wasn’t really a question. With one arm, Kori scooped him up, her curls tangling around him in a soft embrace of sorts. Dick let his eyes droop and his body sag right in her arms, letting go for just a minute.

——

Bart didn’t even feel like moving. The idea of leaving his pile of cuddled-up friends was an unpleasant one. While he was with them, he could pretend, just for a second, that everything was okay.

And then it would come rushing back. The way he had gone from messing about with Tims family, totally oblivious to what was to come, to hearing that boom tube in just the other room.

How in the next second, Cassie was in front of him, totally beside herself, showing him footage of their friends. Hostages. And really, they were only civilians. Especially Greta.

They were fine. Nothing had come of them. Safe, sound, and hidden in one of Ra’s safehouses just up the road from the Gala.

If he’d have followed Tim’s family up the elevator instead, he could’ve easily saved them both - he could’ve saved them a bunch of times actually. He could’ve snagged them right from the ledge of that roof right under Luthors nose.

Bart had been outside of the gala when it happened. He was right there. The sound. The… splat. Like a gunshot. Like a small explosion. He was close enough to smell the blood. He was close enough to see the barely recognisable and totally mangled corpse. He had hit the ground at such speeds that the blood had splattered across Bart’s cheek.

He’d barely seen it half a second before Cassie wheeled him away, too shocked to understand.  But he could remember the screams. Kon. It was the most heart aching noise he’d ever heard. Kon had screamed and wailed and attacked anyone who came too close. He cradled Tim’s head — the only thing he had managed to really protect from the fall.

Tim had likely died on impact. And couldn’t hear Kons pleading. That went on for hours. Hours. With Superman still on his space mission and very few members of the League strong enough to deal with him, they had to wait for Kon to exhaust himself.

He was in a state of catatonia (of sorts) when they could finally approach him.

Bart did so many laps around the world, he too succumbed to physical exhaustion. Wally must’ve found him, because when he woke up, he was back in Titans Tower. And he hadn’t moved since.

No one took Kon back to the tower.

Wonder Woman had to fly him to the Kent Farm because he was that unsteady in the air. And everyone agreed he needed to be far from the tower — away from Tim.

Bart let Cissie finger-comb through his almost-matted hair. “Has anyone heard from Kon yet?”

Cassie hummed but didn’t respond.

Cissie sighed, “he destroyed his phone. Ma told me. We could ask her though?”

“Wait…” Cassie said, stopping Cissie from handing the phone over to Bart. “Have you been on social media at all?”

Cassie had left the tower a few times before. Being the leader, she needed to keep up to date on everything. She always came back close to tears, but with information that everyone wanted.

Cassie was braver than Bart. He knew it. And he felt like a shitty friend not even going along to be with her. It was just so hard.

“As you know, Tim… his body — well, it happened in Metropolis. So Batman can’t claim the… body because it’s not his city. The — body… isn’t identifiable. And because Gotham immediately recognised Red Robins disappearance, no one can know it was Tim… who fell off the — who fell off the…” Cassie sucked in a deep breath, forcing it through her nose and out her mouth shakily.

Bart wanted to be gentle. But he’d lost a lot of his tact recently. “What does that have to do with contacting Kon?”

“Well, this means civilians still think that Tim is alive… and there were some rumours about him. Kon didn’t react well. At all.”

“You’ve been in contact with Ma?” Bart asked, a gnawing feeling rooting deep into his chest.

“Bart, you’re one of Kons closest friends. I thought it best you didn’t know the details. I want you to focus on yourself, not Kon.”

Bart didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “What’s going on, Cassie?”

He really tried to keep the accusation from his voice. She was only trying to help.

“He’s in the fortress of solitude.”

Bart winced, “all alone?”

Cassie deflated, “yes.”

Cissie stepped in, “he went because he deemed himself too dangerous to be around. At least until Superman gets back. He blew a hole in Ma’s barn roof because he had a nightmare.”

“He isn’t a danger to anyone!” Bart exclaimed.

Cassie rubbed her forehead tiredly, “we know that, Bart. But if we want to make Kon feel safe, we have to leave him alone. I know that’s hard, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Bart didn’t want to accept that answer. There were ways around Kons powers acting up. Well… not really. Bart just wanted to help. And also sort of wondered what the rumour was about. Wally had taken his phone to keep him away from the news and those awful conspiracy theories.

So, Kon was missing. And Bart suspected there was very little he could do outside of somehow bringing Tim back to life. Which was impossible.

Somehow feeling worse, Bart let his head fall back into somebody’s lap, sleep not coming easy.

——

Fingers tinted green and skin wind-whipped, he fell through the air, body feeling lead-heavy. Somewhere, his brain supplied for him that he would die soon. Very soon. It didn’t feel like last time. Not at all.

The first time, after Superboy Prime, he died slow, in agony. While he knew his body would look equally grim this time, he suspected death would be pretty instantaneous.

Kon really didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to hold Tim in his arms and hold him close. He wanted to kiss him and tell him he cared. He wanted to push all of Tims self-doubt away and protect him, even from himself.

It seemed his mind was trying to push out as many thoughts as it physically could, before he couldn’t anymore.

Everything was muffled. His hair whipped at his cheeks. His eyes hurt. They were cold in his skull. Then, his ears popped, and everything came back.

There were screaming above him. To be expected. He knew Tim hadn’t coped well the first time… he really needed Tim to survive this time, to be able to move on, to live his life.

Heavy footsteps… that was weird?

Kon blinked back the blurriness, eyes widening, letting in more coldness. He didn’t care. His lips were moving. He was babbling. He knew that. But that was Tim.

Above him. That was Tim. Falling. Falling with him. Dying. Joining him. And that terrified him.

He kept babbling. Begging. He wasn’t sure. Anything to stop Tim. It didn’t work. It wouldn’t work. Tim was stubborn. Tim was smart. Tim would do anything to save those he loved.

Tim reached him. His hands quickly found Kons, interlocking them. They were shaking. Tim was shaking. Tim was scared. Kon buried his face into the crook of Tim’s neck, hoping he could provide a little comfort.

Kon didn’t know what he said, but Tim only smiled sadly, shaking his head. “I can’t do that.” Tim’s hand cradled his head, voice cracking as he whispered into Kons curls, “everything’s going to be okay.”

Kon clutched at Tim tighter (or as tight as he could manage in this state) but it was too late. Tim had that distant look — the one he got when he spoke to Venom.

Kon knew exactly what Tim was going to do before he even said it. Kon knew Tim. He knew his self-sacrificing tendencies and his wrecklessness for his own life. Tim didn’t even know this plan would work.

“Please, Tim,” he gasped, grasping at Tim shakily. Tim rubbed a circle in his palm, then gently brushed the tear-soaked curls from Kons cheek and forehead. An odd, slightly uncomfortable pressure prickled across his skin and deep into his muscles and bones. The steady stream of tears down Tims own cheek was beyond distracting - so he paid no mind to the strange sensation running through his spine.

Tim, for the briefest of moments, looked terrified, before he managed a rueful smile, “I love you, Kon. And I can’t live without you.” A thousand memories flashed through his mind, none from his own point of view. Tim watching him flirt with girls. Tim making brief physical contact with him in missions, just to be close. The nights together in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. It was that presence - Venom - connecting their minds. There were so many memories, too many to focus on. That time, only a few days back, where they broke into a furniture store together. How had everything gone so wrong? They had been laughing and fucking about only a-few days back.

Kon whimpered. He didn’t hear the rest. He knew Tim was trying to be comforting. He had that smile again, real and yet not at the same time — relieved but fearful. His eyebrows were furrowed. Calloused hands cupped his face, Tim’s thumbs wiping away the fresh tears, and then searching for something.

There was that pressure still. Weakening, but there. Venom couldn’t get through his kryptonian skin.

Slowly, Tim leant forward, scrunching his eyes  shut, and kissing him. It was hesitant, and shaky and painful because it was everything Kon ever wanted, in the worst moment of his life.

Feverishly, he kissed back, hope blooming once more. If Venom couldn’t penetrate his skin, he’d have to stay in Tim. Which was perfect - Tim could survive this fall with Venom. This did mean Kon would be dying soon. So what harm could it do to just kiss back?

Kon choked as Venom returned in force, begging against Tim’s lips for him to stop, for him to live. Tim shivered — and it was complete. Strength ebbed dangerously slow back into Kons system. Tim smiled, without fear, totally at ease now that Kon was safe.

Kon tried to throw his TTK shield around Tim, but his powers were sluggish, and the very next moment, his back collided with the unforgiving Metropolis pavement.

Air whooshed out of his lungs, sending him gasping. Someone screamed from his left. Bones - fragile, brittle, human - collapsed immediately. Tim, beautiful, perfect Tim, was crumpled over the top of Kon, his mangled arms keeping him trapped in place.

Tim’s face, and his head, was totally in tact - saved by the TTK - spasmed in pain, blood dribbling from his mouth. It wasn’t an instantaneous death at all - but it was quick enough. The light faded from his eyes, but the brief shock remained — Kon just stared at those wide empty glassy eyes.

And screamed. And screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed—

“Conner, wake up. You’re okay. It was just a dream,” the soothing ( —soothing?! ) whisper from the freaking Batman woke him.

Conner shot up, narrowly missing head-butting Batm— no Bruce, as his surroundings whipped back to him like a boomerang.

Kon let out a shaky breath. He didn’t like not being in control. But Batman insisted Kon wouldn’t hurt him and therefore wouldn’t let him use the red sun lamp.

Batman finally backed up. He wore a thicker suit built for the cold, but his breath still formed a misty cloud in front of him.

“Are you ready?” Batman asked, surprisingly kind again. His hand was outstretched in offering.

Kon nodded, determined. “Let’s get Tim back.”

——

Chapter Text

Damian gently raked his fingers through Alfred’s fur, feeling very far away. He hadn’t seen his father in over a week now, and Dick had to be called to the JL on Batmans behalf. Damian twisted the cape of his Robin uniform. He itched to be out, to investigate those labs.

He wanted this whole thing to be over, dealt with, and forgotten about. It was tiresome.

Everything was falling apart.

Jason was home .

Cass wasn’t .

And the bats hadn’t been fed.

Damian remembers coming home from patrol one late night (technically early morning), with Tim close on his heels. The boy behind him had been exhausted, and had taken a hit on the field. Instead of making a fuss, his imbecile brother (Damian nearly reeled from the realisation he considered Tim his brother) had approached Alfred, shoulder oozing, and said hey Alfie, have you fed the bats?

Damian had been… confused. Not only had the hit Tim had taken been Damian’s fault, the injury should’ve been a priority. But it wasn’t to Tim.

The bats hanging from the ceiling had been.

The briefest stab of fondness had strangled Damian. Not that it had taken him long to stomp that out though as he patted Tim on the injured shoulder, watching him flinch even as Damian thanked him for the patrol, his tone dripping condescension.

Why had he done that?

Damian sniffled, focusing on smoothening out the cat’s fur. He’d never be able to fix things now. He wouldn’t be able to thank Tim for feeding the bats (reminding Alfred to) and he wouldn’t be able to thank him for keeping his their family together. He’d never get to apologise.

Damian rubbed at his face - there was no use in fixating on it - and yet his hands came back wet with tears.

Damian blew out a breath, shaking himself off and going for the cupboard. The bat feed was in here, and it was vital he kept up with their feeding. Someone had to.

Melancholy, the bats chittered.

Damian, not sure how to handle them, threw the food on the floor like bird seed. It worked for a little while. They gathered and made little chirping noises. It didn’t last long.

Before long, they skittered back to the cave ceiling, appropriately ruffled. Damian sighed and then jumped several feet in the air when a large hand clamped down on his shoulder. Damian used the momentum to launch his attacker across the room.

“Oof!” a familiar voice huffed.

It was only Dick.

Dick, with the ghost of a very small grin, rolled his shoulder. Then, he approached Damian like he was some scared kicked-animal, more apologetic than amused now, “I thought you’d have heard me. Sorry for scaring you.”

Damian scoffed, “Tt. I wasn’t scared, Richard, I was merely deep in thought.”

Dick swept his thumb across Damian’s cheek, the calluses coming back softened by his tears. “It’s okay to be sad, Dami.”

Damian didn’t say anything for a very long time. A year ago, he probably would’ve scoffed, called Drake an unsavoury name and ignore any hurt the words inflicted on those around him. He would’ve said how he was happy it had happened.

He wasn’t that boy anymore. And he certainly didn’t think of Tim as some obstacle for him to cut through either. Drake was his brother, his irritating, infuriating brother.

And he was gone .

And the bats were hungry.

Damian wiped away a stray tear. As much as he could acknowledge his feelings (no matter how awful) he needn’t waste them by acting rash. He needed to… not be another burden.

“How was the meeting, Batman?” Damian asked finally, looking up at his brother steadily.

Dick smiled sadly, obviously knowing what Damian was doing, and spared him the emotions for now. “Not good, actually. It appears someone has hacked into the JL headquarters.”

Damian looked up, surprised. That entire system was very very well protected. For someone to have hacked into it, well, they must’ve been very motivated. Both Oracle and Cyborg had collaborated on it.

“What did they do?” Damian asked cautiously. While Dick seemed a little worried, it wasn’t anywhere near as much as it should’ve been.

Dick peeled off the cowl, biting his lip. “It appears the offender changed the JL schedule.”

“That seems… rather inconsequential,” Damian admitted. “What exactly did they change, your bathroom breaks?” he added with a scoff.

“They commed Superman up in space and sent him to another planet to deal with some alien war,” Dick said, plopping himself into the batcomputers chair and cracking each of his fingers. It was a good thing Alfred wasn’t around to see (and hear) that.

Damian furrowed his brow, “that could just be miscommunication. After all, it is his job to save people. Maybe the one who changed Superman’s schedule is a JL member who forgot to tell everyone else. I really don’t see why a villain would want to do that.”

“That’s the thing. It was clear Martian Manhunter was supposed to deal with that particular situation. And that makes more sense,” Dick explained, pausing thoughtfully, “Superman should be home right now.”

Damian understood that. Conner Kent, Clark’s brother/son/something-or-other, probably needed Superman’s support right now. He had heard the rumours of his disappearance.

“So, what were you thinking?” Damian said finally.

“Someone did that to keep Superman in space.” Dick answered.

“To keep him away from something happening here,” Damian repeated, mind reeling. That had been obvious. Maybe he should lie down.

He briefly pondered how Jon would feel when he found out. Maybe he should give him a call…

“Have you sent the information over to Oracle so she can start figuring out who’s behind this?” Damian questioned.

Dick shook his head, “I’ll do it. Go to bed, we aren’t patrolling tonight.”

——

Tim was alive.

He remembered his boy leaping off the roof, tendrils of utter blackness slingshotting him ahead, with that determined set of his jaw being all he saw before Tim started falling.

Tim was alive.

Bruce remembered sprinting after his son, arms outstretched, and knees bent to throw himself after him.

Tim was alive.

The pain, he could remember that. Dick had full-body tackled him to stop him. It had shot up his shoulder and his side, but it didn’t matter. His son was falling and he wasn’t there to catch him. He wasn’t there to save him like Tim had saved him over and over.

But Tim had to be alive.

Bruce knew he could still save him. But not like this. Taking a breath, Bruce steadied himself into a state of calm, a place in his mind not riddled by his recent fluctuations of emotion.

Grief did him no good. Neither did his quickly depressing thoughts, or the anger or the fear. He had no room for self doubt - Tim had to be alive.

Luthor had said something — something Bruce had analysed over and over. It had mentioned a plan B, and how Ra’s would be pleased about it.

Why would Ra’s be pleased? Bruce knew, of course, of Ra’s recent interest in Tim. Who didn’t? It was frankly a little disturbing. Bruce took another breath. Initially, he had hypothesised that somehow they had accounted for Tim taking a swandive off of Lexcorp tower and planned to Lazurus pit him.

Upon closer inspection, Bruce realised that was unlikely. The lazurus pit had… unsavoury effects on the mind, which is exactly what Ra’s wanted from Tim — his brain.

Therefore, that explanation had little likelihood.

So, probably not that (though, he had left it as a teeny-tiny-maybe. There was always a chance of no side effects with the pit, but the chances were slim.) Ra’s wasn’t a gambler.

That’s the thing though - maybe Tim didn’t need to come back from the dead. Maybe, he had never died.

And this line of thinking lead him to his next idea, which was that he had been transported to a pocket dimension. It had happened before - to Tim actually. The drones. Mister Oz. Just before Tim would’ve died, he was teleported to safety (a dimension of Mister Oz).

Obviously, this case was different in some respects.

The astounding lack of evidence was unfortunate. But there was something. Tim couldn’t just die.

What was that plan B?

He’d have to focus some of his efforts on hacking Lexcorp. Maybe he’d find some information there.

The question of the body was also a strange one. While there had very clearly been a body, and Tim’s face had been in tact, Batman had to assume that wasn’t really him. Some sort of hologram? An illusion? Maybe even a clone! Tim had mentioned something of Ra’s keeping his spleen — perhaps that had been… used.

Regardless, the body wasn’t Tim’s.

Tim was somewhere safe (or safe enough for now). He was alive. He was healthy.

Batman could prove it, and if he needed to send his best friend off to another planet to borrow his fortress and research his phantom zone projector, so be it.

It simply had to be done.

Chapter Text

Tear-tinted azure eyes fluttered, half-blind to the body below. To Tim. Superboys mouth was agape. Shocked? Upset?

Tim couldn’t decipher it.

He didn’t have time to.

Everything burned. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even cry out.

Conner could. And he did.

It was a horrible noise. Gut-wrenching. Grief-stricken. The cries seemed to be torn from his very being, scraped and raw.

Tim wanted to move his arms, his hands. He needed to comfort him, to rest a reassuring hand on Kons chest. But he couldn’t. He was entirely exhausted. Broken. He had nothing left to give.

Maybe he was content with that.

That scared him.

Maybe he should—

Tim shot up. Or at least — he tried to. He took a ragged breath in, noting the pain that came with that one inhale. He spluttered, and tried to move again.

Panic clawed at him then. Maybe that hadn’t just been a dream? Was he really paralysed?

It took several minutes for Tim to gather the courage to open his eyes. He looked down. First, he noted the table he was sat on — it was diagonally positioned so he was laid upright. It was solid, and horribly cold.

Focus. He needed to focus.

First, he wiggled his toes, bent his knees. Okay, he was fine. Next, he balled his hands into fists and calmed down.

This was fine.

It was just a dream.

Tim squinted into the dark room, head-spinning. He couldn’t even see where the room ended, nor the furniture in the centre, which was shrouded in shadow.

When Tim realised he wouldn’t be clued in to his location based on his surroundings, he focused his attention on the cuffs — which weren’t actually cuffs.

He had been strapped down to the table with a band of scrap metal.

Kind of overkill, but okay.

Shit. He’d have to dislocate his thumbs. Tim sighed, he much preferred using lock picks. This would have to —

Oh! That wouldn’t even matter, Venom could just fix him up again.

Tim paused.

Venom? he said in his head.

There was no immediate response.

Venom?

Tim waited, then added, now’s not really a good time for you to be taking a power nap, man.

No response again.

Tim didn’t panic. He couldn’t panic. He just didn’t have the time for it.

With a sickening crack, he dislocated his left thumb, wincing at the sound more than the pain (though that was certainly something). Then, with some reluctance, he did the same to his right hand.

He could fight with dislocated thumbs — it was just very very inconvenient, and the pain was always a little distracting. Still, he slid his hands out from the cold metal, and tested them.

He had been too rough on the left hand. He wouldn’t be able to pop that one back into place himself, unless he wanted to damage his tendons and nerves and blood vessels.

Thankfully, his right thumb was in better condition, so he simply (and so carefully) popped it back into place. He flexed his hand again. He’d probably have to avoid throwing too many punches.

As soon as he hopped off the bed, he backed up into the shadows, tiptoeing around the perimeter of the room to get a feel for it.

It was large. Roomy.

The wall that was adjacent to him was made entirely of glass, which made Tim pause. It reminded him of those zoo enclosures.

Tim stopped. This wasn’t right. His brain was foggy, but it was also calm, but it could also feel danger but it also didn’t care. Tim massaged his temple and looked around again.

What was the last thing he could remember?

The gala.

Dancing.

And then… nothing.

Tim moved closer towards the glass, feet unsteady and knees aching. He peered into it and froze. He really was just being observed.

And by someone clothed all in the black with their face covered. He’d recognise the uniform from anywhere.

He was in Ra’s al Ghuls base.

Again.

And being watched by an assassin.

Could Tims life get any worse?

The assassin slowly reached for their ear, clicking on their comm. Tim watched halfheartedly as the ninja spoke, not being able to read their lips through the cloth over their mouth.

So he was located somewhere he couldn’t escape with brute force alone. And they’d certainly never trust him near their computers again.

He’d have to get creative this time around.

Tim backed up until he was back at the weird table/bed thing. Ra’s al Ghul would be here any minute.

Once he hit the ten minute mark, Tim got bored of waiting, and —

“Ah, Detective. You return to the land of the living,” Ra’s al Ghul said, looking horribly smug.

“What’s going on here?” Tim said, ignoring the confusing statement.

“You don’t remember?”

“Where is Venom?” Tim questioned.

“That little alien of yours?” Ra’s al Ghul said, faux-thoughtfully. “Don’t you like the newer model?”

Tim frowned, striding towards the glass to get a better look at his captor. Why was he being so —

Tim hunched over, stomach rolling and head aching, as a familiar and yet different sensation spread across his neck and down his back. Tim held his hands over his mouth as it filled with saliva — a warning sign just before he threw up.

Tim clutched at his stomach, letting his forehead touch the cool floor as pain exploded across his entire body. “Venom!” he rasped, unused to the symbiote acting so harshly.

The rough texture of the alien surprised him, and when he finally forced his eyes open again, so did the colour. A dark red head looked back at him, more pointy, more teethy, more deadly.

A large tentacle reached out and shook him, “I am not Venom !” it was said with such disgust, Tim would’ve thought he’d called him some sort of slur, “I am Carnage!”

Tim was slammed to the floor.