Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim

Tim pours himself another cup of coffee. He needs another shot of expresso, but he doesn’t need Alicia shooting him another concerned look. She’s been doing that a lot lately. He gets it. They’ve been taking a lot of heat. He glances down at his phone, his Instagram feed glaring up at him. The scandal of a surprise wedding is finally starting to wear off, the public warmed by the clear genuineness of Jason and Roy’s love for one another and their shared defensiveness of their daughter. The photos Tim took helped quite a bit. There’s a frenetic energy to all of them that he managed to capture. Genuine and unscripted. 

Relatable. 

He’s managed to personalize his family—to humanize them. 

He may be on PR’s shitlist for the foreseeable future, but they can’t deny the results (or the slight increase in stock price). Any questions about Tim’s fitness for his position have been silenced. Tim’s done his job. 

He sent Bruce and Dick their own photos to upload to social media, along with scripts for appropriate captions. One band. One sound. They’ve fallen in line for now, but Tim can sense a growing storm in Bruce. The man doesn’t like being told what to do for long, and Tims suspects the man still hasn’t forgiven his outburst. They won’t be able to keep circling each other forever. 

That’s fine, Tim thinks. He’s handled Bruce at his most difficult before. At his worst, even. He knows how to play the deferential ward well enough, and, given enough time, Bruce won’t be invested enough to know the difference.

This is nothing. 

Ra’s hasn’t made his move yet, but Tim’s ready for when he does.

Hm. 

Things are going back to normal. 

Finally.

Tim (Before)

Clark actually has the audacity to look sad . Tim wants to punch him in his perfect fucking teeth, but he steadies himself. He has to be on his best behavior. He’s asking a favor, after all .

“Have you talked to Dick? He’s been really worried about you, Tim,” he says instead of looking at the data readouts in front of him. If he would just—if someone would just look—

He will not scream. He will not lose his cool. He will stand tall and present the information he’s found, and if Clark doesn’t help, he’ll find someone else—

“Be at ease, Timothy,” J’onn’s voice comes softly. “We are only worried about your health. The materials you’ve brought with you are compelling and deserving of review. It saddens us that you felt you had to journey for them alone.”

“I understand your concern,” Tim says, and he smiles. Flattens his eyebrows and softens his brow. Keeps his mouth closed–no, he will not bare his teeth. This is a time to bare his throat instead, even if it kills him to do it. He’s been through worse. “All I ask is for you to review what I’ve found. Seriously,” he says, and he keeps his tone light. Deferential. “It would bring me peace of mind to have those more skilled than myself look over everything.”

“We will do that, Red Robin,” Diana says, and the look in her eyes is patronizing. Tim will not bare his teeth.

But god, does he want to. 

–

It takes about two hours. Tim’s been sitting on the floor across from the conference room, waiting for the chrome doors to slide open. He rests his chin on the tops of his knees, his legs tucked against his chest. His side hurts. He needs to check his stitches. And probably take another antibiotic. He’s searching his pockets when the door slides open–

“Tim? Oh, there you are!” Clark looks down at him, surprise on his face. “You haven’t been here the whole time, have you?”  

“I didn’t know how long you’d be. I’d like my files back, please,” Tim says. 

“Of course. They’ll be returned after we contact Booster Gold and Dr. Fate. Between you and the Lanterns’ reports, it’s clear something’s going on.” Clark sighs and rubs at his face. “You’ve done good work, Tim. We’ll take it from here.”

We’ll take it from here.

Tim fights the urge to scream.

“I’ll want to see him,” he says edgily (and he kicks himself for it. He has to be better than that. Smarter.) “When you bring him back, I mean. I’ll want to see him.” And he keeps his voice milder this time. Less demanding.

“Well, Tim, we still don’t know what we’re gonna find,” Clark says, and Tim fights the urge to lunge at him. 

It wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“Of course. Whatever you think is best.”

“And you’ll talk to Dick?”

Over his dead body.

“Of course. I’m sure he’ll want to see Bruce, too.”

Clark’s expression remains sad. “Okay, Tim. Have you eaten?”

Tim nods.

“Well…we’ll call you if we find something. Talk to your brother for me, okay,” he ruffles Tim’s hair, and then he’s gone, leaving Tim sitting in the hallway alone.

But Bruce will be home soon. 

Tim’s done his job. 

Bruce

Bruce knows he has control issues. He knows. Really. He does. 

Simply, going along quietly with Tim’s instructions goes against every instinct in his body, but Bruce is trying . He is! It rankles him, but truly , he is . 

Things remain tense even though it’s clear the tentative truces left over from Jason’s wedding are still in place. Bruce can feel it in the air. Alfred’s still ang—no, not angry— disappointed . Bruce doesn’t like feeling chastised, but he understands. He could’ve handled it all better. He should’ve. So far, Jason’s full forgiveness is still up in the air, but he hasn’t threatened to take Bruce’s head off since he gave him the watch so…

Bruce will take the win.

Damian will probably be the easiest to re-engage with. He doesn’t hold much against Bruce…for now.

Dick’s made it clear that he’s not letting Bruce off the hook any time soon, and he has no idea how to traverse that chasm without stumbling against the rocks. Better to let Dick come to him. He’s waited him out before.

Tim…he’ll come back to him later.

Bruce tries not to let himself linger in that swamp of thought before he lets himself into the conference room.

“Hey, Spooky! I saw the picture Roy posted on Instagram. Kiddo looks like he’s having fun! I was surprised to see they chose a cabin in the woods. I would’ve bet good money I’d see Jason on a beach.” Hal’s smile is too bright for it to be as early in the morning as it is.

“Ah, yes…they seem happy,” he replies evenly. And it’s true. Thinking of the pictures he’s seen of Jason recently, he does look happy. Lighter. He and Roy are off in the mountains, an old hideaway that Bruce sometimes forgets he owns. Apparently, Tim had taken it over at one point during his…absence. In the photos, it looks more comfortable than Bruce left it with updated appliances and amenities. Less a hideout and more a getaway.  

“Looks cozy as hell. Makes me wanna take a vacation,” Hal continues with a yawn. “I’d kill to be in a cabin somewhere. Laid up with no one to bother me.”

“Same,” Barry groans, “I’d ask for a referral, Bruce, but I saw the appliances in that place. I know it’s outta my tax bracket,” Barry sighs. 

“You a white refrigerator guy, Barr?”

“Look, we just had twins, okay? No chrome appliances or digital home attendants for us anytime soon,” Barry laughs tiredly. 

“Glad to hear they’re having fun. That’s one Robin down the aisle. I always thought it’d be Dick first. Would’ve bet on it.” Clark says as he passes Bruce his mug for coffee. 

Bruce had thought it’d be Dick too. He certainly hadn’t expected it of Jason, but in hindsight, he should’ve. Jason had always craved a family .

“I would’ve guessed Timothy. I imagine if he and Kon-El hadn’t lost a year together, they would’ve eloped by now,” Diana chimes in.

Bruce doesn’t miss the sound of Clark nearly choking on his coffee next to him.

“Please don’t speak that into existence,” he groans. “Ma will kill me if I let that happen.”

“Tim’s not the type to elope,” Bruce cuts in, “and we have more to discuss today than my children’s nuptials.”

“I don’t know, Bruce,” Ollie says (and great, he’s still bitter), “seems exactly like the kind of thing Timbo would do, to me.”

“Ollie,” Dinah says slowly. 

“What? Disappearing and demanding are two things that kid’s good at. Takes after daddy, doesn’t he?”

“Oh shit–”

Bruce feels his head tilt involuntarily, and something dark unfurls itself in his chest. 

Good. He’s been looking for a fight.

Chapter Text

Bruce

“Well, that was…” Clark lets his voice trail off, his eyes darting from Diana to Bruce and back again.

“A shit show? An overreaction ?” Diana groans. She’d been the one to pull them apart in the end. The meeting had disbanded shortly before it truly came to blows, everyone encouraging he and Queen to go to their respective corners and collect themselves. They’ve retreated to one of the corner kitchenettes. Bruce takes slow sips of his coffee and tries to allow himself to slowly unclench.

Oliver is clearly still hurt, he thinks, the sting of Roy’s rejection amplified by all the public attention it got. He’s also probably figured out that Bruce is the one who sicced Vicki on him and splashed that rejection all over the front page. The Watchtower is known for its gossip, so Bruce knows Ollie’s had to hear all about it over and over again. 

Perhaps they should’ve sent more of a peace offering than a single framed wedding photograph, but Bruce refuses to get involved in that mess.

He has enough problems with his own children. He won’t indulge himself in someone else’s. Roy can do what he wants.

“I won’t apologize," he says darkly.

"I didn't expect you to," Clark snorts.

“I didn’t know you knew how,” Diana snorts. “Perhaps we should go back to having online meetings for a while. At least until you and Oliver can be in the same room without shouting.”

“When he chooses to behave, so will I. If he chooses to be disrespectful, so will I .” Bruce shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee.

“Hera, please free me from the emotionality of Men,” Diana groans, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “Is it not easy enough to move on? For both of you?”

Bruce bristles at that. “As you can see, I’ve tried, but I won’t ignore or tolerate insults to my family, Diana. Any of my family. I know Tim can be…a challenge for those unused to him, but he’s brilliant. I’m sure you all know that. I know he led the operation for my recovery.”

Something shifts in Clark's expression at the mention of Tim, almost like… shame . 

What is going on ? 

Bruce has fought against his nature and chosen not to ask but his patience is wearing thin. He wants to know. From Dick. From Clark. From them all . What happened?

“Yes,” Diana says softly and she too looks strange, “Timothy was invaluable in the quest to retrieve you. He was…quite single-minded in his determination.”

“I know what I'm worth to you, Bruce. I've always known. I'm your work partner. Your closer. Your problem solver."

Bruce wills his fists to uncurl as he recalls his one of the last conversations he had with his son.

“I’d expect nothing less from him," he says, instead.

Clark bites his lip, his expression still grim.

"I wish…" he begins softly, "I wish I'd done better by him…while you were gone. I should’ve.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Bruce replies.

Clark just shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter now and if Tim hasn’t said anything, I suppose it’s best to let it lie.” Clark sighs and gets to gis feet. “He’s a good kid. Ollie knows better.”

“Hey guys!” 

They all glance up to see Flash in the doorway.

“Canary took Ollie home because he’s still…you know…upset? We can finish up for the day if you want!” He says.

“Sounds good. Shall we?” Clark gets to his feet and Diana is quick to follow.

One day Bruce will ask. 

One day.

Kon (Before)

Kon hates the farm. He misses his room at the tower with his posters and his records, but he promised he’d try . It’s not like Ma and Pa are bad people. They’re just not his people. Clark made sure of that , he thinks bitterly. It feels strange sitting at their table, eating their food, when he knows all Clark wants is to go back in time and rip the camera away from the reporter who got a closeup of Kon’s face while he was on a mission with the Titans. His connection to Superman had been undeniable then, and his connection to Clark Kent—well, Ma and Pa had put the pieces together pretty quickly.

And just like that, he’d been flown to Smallville, Kansas, and instructed to meet his grandparents. He didn’t even know he had grandparents. 

Now he gets to live with them and have weekly dinners with Superman, who clearly is just as thrilled about his parents telling him to step up as Kon is.

Great.

And now, for some reason, Clark thinks he gets a say in Kon’s dating life. Maybe that’s the trade-off? They’re sitting down for dinner, a hearty spread of steak and potatoes between them, when Clark brings it up.

Martha (call me Ma ) Kent’s eyes flicker between them.

“Maybe we should have this discussion another time, Clark,” she says gently. She can clearly sense Kon’s ire.

“I’m not saying that the two of them can’t date, Ma,” Clark says, and if he wasn’t fucking up Kon’s life, even more, he could almost put aside the condescending tone. To Kon, he says, “I know I can’t control your life. I’m just…asking questions. That’s all.” Oh no. It’s worse . Kon can tell that, under the uncomfortability, Clark is being genuine . He’s worried . It still doesn’t make him feel better. If anything, it makes him feel worse . 

“Because you have a right to?” Kon demands. “You can pretend I don’t exist for years, but when I start dating someone you don’t like–”

“That’s not what this is about, Conner,” Clark cuts across him despite Ma’s warning look. “Tim is Bruce’s son. He’s family, which is why I’m worried. He’s struggling, and of course, he is. His father just died. All I’m saying is that maybe you two should hold off on getting too serious until he…gets his head on straight about everything.” 

“So you want me to abandon him?” Kon demands. 

“That’s not what I said,” Clark sighs. 

“Boys, please—”

“No, that's exactly what you said. You want me to turn my back on him because it’d be too hard. I’m not you, Clark. I don’t push people away because they’re hard to care for.” Kon pushes away from the table and gets to his feet. Fuck this. 

“Now, Conner, wait! Please—”

Kon only slightly feels bad about ignoring her. 

He knows Tim’s going through a lot. Bruce. The fallout with Nightwing? Everyone’s talking about it. Cassie had to take over the Titans because Tim’s been so… erratic . Too erratic to lead, Wonder Woman had said.

“The Titans need to be led by someone with a clear head. Someone operating in reality. We all wish Rob–Red Robin the best, but until he’s ready to get the help he needs, we feel it’s best that he steps aside from the team. Cassandra will lead in the interim until you all make a decision on how you wish to move forward.” 

It had been a crushing blow, one Tim hadn’t taken lightly. Sure, he didn’t cry in the League’s face—Batman would roll in his grave before one of his kids ever lost their cool in front of strangers—but Kon had seen the aftermath. Tim was losing it. To even suggest that Kon break up with him…he couldn’t.

They’d get through this together. He knew it.

(They don’t get through it together. Kon dies before they can.)

Tim

Being able to come home to Kon is a welcome thing, he thinks. The apartment looks a little more lived in now with some of Kon’s things migrating over from his room in the tower. He brought his old record player with him, the soft tones of some vinyl Tim doesn’t recognize greeting his ears as he makes it through the door. 

“I’m home!” He calls as he kicks his shoes off.

“Hey,” Kon calls. “I got Indian food. Extra samosas like you like.” And Tim can finally hear that he’s in the shower. 

He debates the merits of joining him as he lays out the food Kon brought home. He’s been going back to classes now that people have stopped ogling him (or are at least ogling him less ). 

His stomach wins out. He’s grabbing plates from the cabinet when he feels Kon’s warm hands settle at his waist.

“You gonna make me a plate too?” He says playfully.

“I guess,” Tim sighs dramatically. “I’m not sharing my samosas though.” He turn around, his  hips shifting in Kon’s grip. “Jesus,” he says, “you couldn’t put on a shirt?”

“I mean I can…” Kon’s smirk is wolfish. “Would you prefer that?”

Tim can’t help the smile curling at his lips. “Well, I guess I do like the view from time to time.” 

“From time to time? Yeah, okay.” Kon rolls his eyes but his smile is so infectious, Tim can’t help but kiss him. He sighs into Kon’s mouth, his hands coming up to grip the base of his neck. Tim twines his fingers into the curls he finds there.

“We’re supposed to be eating,” he says softly.

“I have something you can eat—”

Tims rescued from the atrocious joke by the sound of Kon’s phone going off.

“Ughhhh,” Kon groans. “It’s Ma,” he explains, “I’ve been avoiding them. I was supposed to go to dinner tonight with her and Clark, but I…I just couldn’t. She’s called me at least three times, Tim. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

God. This silly man. “I’m not sure what the issue is, Kon? I mean, she’s your grandmo—”

“She’s not,” Kon says suddenly, “I’m not his son, so…she’s not my grandmother. She’s just…they’re just people who want to get to know me, and yeah, a few years ago, that would’ve meant a lot, but now? Everything’s changed. I’ve changed.” He pulls away then and Tim instantly misses him. Misses his touch.

“Kon…,” he says. He looks so dejected, his shoulders slumped, and Tim hates it. Kon is supposed to be the daylight to Tim’s nightshade. To see him so defeated, Tim isn’t sure what to do. “I thought things were getting better?” He tries. “You and Clark were getting along when you were staying with him, and you said Lois was nice.” His own feelings about Clark aside, he’s always wanted Kon to be happy and cared for. To be known as the wonderful person he is. 

To be seen in all the ways Tim never was.

“Yeah, it’s easy to be nice to someone after they die ,” Kon spits, and Tim can barely contain his flinch. He tries not to think about that. About the short period of his life where the sun really felt like it’d never come out again—he tunes back into what Kon’s saying. “—that’s the only reason he’s trying, and I’m just supposed to pretend I don’t know that? You know…nevermind I shouldn’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything,” Tim says hoarsely. 

“It’s not you. It’s just not my secret to tell. I shouldn’t…I just don’t want to be a stand-in, you know? If Clark and Lois can’t get what they really want, they’ll settle for me, and I don’t…I don’t want to be settled for. I don’t think I can ever get over that. And what he did to you? I’ll never be over that either,” Kon shakes his head.

Tim tenses, his teeth grinding against his will. He tries not to think about it, tries to bury the sour taste of resentment deeper in his gut. 

“There’s nothing to get over, Kon,” he says, “I burned that bridge myself. What’s done is done.”

“That’s my point though, Tim. You shouldn’t have had to! He should’ve listened, but why would he? He’s Superman, so he automatically knows better than the stupid kids. ‘ You have to get to know your grandparents, Conner .’ ‘ Be nice to Lois or else, Conner, ’ ‘ Break up with Tim, he’s crazy, Conner .’”

And okay, Tim didn’t know about that last part, but he believes it. 

“I doubt he used the word ‘ crazy,’ Kon,” he sighs and approaches Kon again. He opens his arms in welcome, and Kon eagerly falls against him, curls his broad shoulders into Tim’s offered embrace. “The farmboy’s too nice for that. He probably said ‘ mentally il l’ or ‘ unstable ’ like everyone else.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Kon gripes. “That was bullshit. All of it. You didn’t fucking deserve any of that shit, and I’ll never be okay with anyone who allowed it to go on.”

“Kon,” Tim says gently, “it’s not a big deal. I’m not Dick. I don’t need to be around people to survive. Besides, everyone’s more than polite to me now when I sign the League’s expense reports.”

Kon groans again. 

“I hate that so much.”

“Yeah, well…” Tim sighs, “it’s the way the world works. I didn’t do what I did to make or keep friends. I did it to save Bruce. I’d do it again. I’d do it if it meant protecting you.” Kon looks up at him then, and his eyes are oh-so blue.

“Yeah? And who protects you, birdbrain?”

“I can protect myself, Kon.”

“Fuck that. I want to protect you too, Tim. I fucking love you. Anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with me, too. That’s it. I don’t care who it is.”

Tim kisses him then. He can’t help it. 

“We’re supposed to be eating,” Kon laughs against his lips.

“Fuck the food.”

They do eventually get back to the food. It's just a little cold. 

Chapter Text

Tim

Tim stretches his arms above his head. He needs to get up out of bed and take a shower, but god…he’s worn out. It’s nighttime now. They’ve left the curtains undrawn, the bright lights of the Gotham City skyline filtering into the room through the floor-length window panes. Bruce, Dick, and Damian are probably already out and about since Jason’s gonna be gone for at least another week. Eventually, Tim will be able to join them again. He just has to get WE back firmly under control and wait out the spectacle. 

“You’re thinking too loud,” Kon says, and Tim can hear the smile in his voice. He turns his head to see Kon stretched out on his back against the steel grey sheets. “I must not've done a good enough job if you’re still thinking that hard. Gonna have to give it a second try.” 

“Oh my god,” Tim laughs, and he feels his cheeks heat at the implication (which is silly, right?). “You’re so embarrassing.” 

“Yeah?” Kon snarks right back, “I wasn’t ‘ embarrassing ’ earlier when you were sitting on my—”

Tim smacks him in the face with a pillow. Twice for good measure.

“You’re a menace! The absolute worst!” He yelps, and he can't stop laughing. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Kon bats the pillow away and grabs at Tim’s wrist. “Why you put up with me? Baby, it’s a combination of my sparkling personality and my giant—”

Tim tackles him that time and wrestles him back into the sheets, the both of them giggling all the while. They’re kissing again when Kon’s phone rings for the fourth time. 

“Ignore it,” Kon groans.

“You’re gonna have to talk to her eventually,” Tim sighs before he sits back up on his haunches and shoves his sweaty hair out of his face. He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs Kon’s phone.

“It’s Clark. You’re in trouble, babe,” he sighs when he sees the caller ID.

“Fuck. Gimmie it.” He dials Clark back, an annoyed look on his face. “I’m putting him on speakerphone, so no funny business.”

Tim signals zipping his lips as he hops off the bed. He grabs his boxer briefs from the floor and slips them on.

“ Conner? Ma’s been trying to call you all night. We’ve been really worried. You were supposed to come by for dinner. She boxed a plate up for you and everything,” Clark says all in a rush. “Are you alright?”  

“Oh no, I—uh—I forgot? Completely. Completely forgot…about dinner. I’m okay, though,” Kon says awkwardly. He glances up at Tim, who shrugs. It’s not the best lie, but it’s the one they have.

“ You…forgot? ” Clark says, and Tim winces at the disbelief in his voice.

“Yeah, I got caught up at home with Tim. We’re still dealing with the move, you know? And I had some homework I needed to get done,” Kon says and at least he's more convincing this time.

Clark lets out a deep exhale. " Conner…look…I know you don’t like it when I give you my opinion on your relationship. I know that spending time with Tim is important to you, but I hope you won’t start neglecting your other relationships. I spoke to Wonder Girl, and she’s worried, and you moved out so fast— "

"Hi, Clark," Tim pipes up to stem the flow of accusation before Kon says something he’ll regret. He can’t help himself.

“Tim’s here, by the way. And you’re on speakerphone,” Kon says awkwardly. 

The next few moments of discomfiting silence are excruciating .

“ Hello, Tim, ” Clark finally says, “I hope you know I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just trying to look out for Conner.”

“Of course you are. So am I,” Tim says carefully.

“ Right. ” Another awkward pause. " Well…maybe next time we can all have dinner together? I’m sure Conner can fly you to Kansas, Tim and my parents would love to get you to know you better. They haven’t seen you since you were younger. " 

“Kon and I will definitely think about it. Right, babe?” Tim offers.

“Yeah. We’ll talk about it,” Kon says

“ Right…well…just…in the future, Kon, I’d really appreciate it if you answered when we called you. We worry about you, ” Clark sighs.

“I’m…sorry. I should’ve called Mrs. Kent back. It won’t happen again.” Tim watches as Kon fights with himself. He’s proud of him. Tim’s learned that sometimes, it’s smarter to surrender even if you’re not sure you’ve done something wrong.  

Sometimes especially then.

Tim (Before)

Tim can hear the whispers around him. He wonders what people are thinking. Do they think that a year lost in the desert damaged his ears? Maybe they think he’s lost his sight because they make no effort to hide their stares. 

The commissary on the Watchtower is well stocked. Tim grabs himself a tray before retreating to a table in the corner of the large dining hall. He hasn’t had a good burger in months, and even though caf food sucks, it’s the best thing he’s tasted in a while. 

He’s polishing off his fries when someone finally approaches.

“Tim? You’re…back.” It’s Cassie. She looks a little worse for wear (considering what Tim’s heard, he knows her year hasn’t been great either). She’s cut her hair a little bit shorter, but she still looks like the girl he knows. She sits down across from him but keeps her hands in her lap.

"I'm here updating the League. Once they’re done, I’m off again,” he says.

"Oh…you’re giving an update…on Bruce?" And Cassie’s eyes are sad. Sympathetic.

It makes Tim want to vomit.

"Yes,” he clears his throat, “we've made some advancements."

"...right." Her smile is tight. Sorrowful. “Well, if you have some time later, we’d love to see you come by the tower. We’ve missed you. It’s been…quiet without you. Lots of new members.”

Tim fights the urge to flee. No. He doesn’t want to visit the tower. Doesn’t want to visit the monument to his dead friend and to the only other person who ever really saw him—

“I’ll think about it,” he replies evenly.

“Please do,” she says gently. “You know…I’ve been…I’ve been talking to someone. Had to start after Bart. It’s been…really helpful.”

Tim feels his hands curl into fists under the table, a dark feeling rising in his chest.

“I’m glad that’s worked for you,” he says instead of what he wants to say. 

“Yeah…grief…grief makes us…do things. Things we might not normally do.” Cassie shrugs, a faraway look in her eyes. “Anyway, I’m glad to see you. I hope to see a little bit more of you, and if you ever wanna… talk , you know you can call.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Cassie,” and Tim grants her a smile that shows not nearly enough teeth. He knows she means well. She’s one of the few who do but…

He’s not crazy.

“I’m actually about to run some drills with some of our new members if you want—”

“Tim?”

They both look up to see Clark striding toward them. Tim gets to his feet.

“What is it.”

“Booster just arrived. He says we need to move quickly, but he can’t make sense of some of your notes. Can you come with me?” He says, all in a rush. He looks the most frantic Tim has ever seen him.

For the first time in months, hope blooms bright and all-consuming in Tim’s mind.

He was right.

He was right!

Bruce

“Long day at the office, Master Bruce?” Alfred’s waiting for him at the mouth of the cave with an aspirin and a glass of water as Bruce climbs out of the batmobile. It has been a long day. From the altercation on the Watchtower to his tense night patrolling with Nightwing and Robin. They’d gone their own way at the end of the night, Damian electing to stay with Dick in the penthouse for the next few days.

“You could say that,” he sighs as he takes the offering. He swallows the pills and sighs before he settles in front of the bat-computer to write up his reports. “It’s been a lot to think about.”

“More trouble?” Alfred inquires.

“You could say that,” Bruce answers, “Oliver may prove to be more of a challenge than I initially thought. And patrol is always harder when the team is tense.”

Alfred hums. “The quality of Mr. Queen’s relationship with his ward is not up to us to repair, unfortunately. From what I’ve learned from young Mr. Harper, it would seem he’s more hurt about the treatment of the young miss than anything. And you would know better than anyone what lengths a father would go to protect his child.”

Bruce can’t help but agree. He’s grown fond of Harper’s little girl ( Jason’s little girl now, too ). He couldn’t imagine turning her and her father away.

"As for the young masters, I’m afraid that task of repair is within your purview, sir,” Alfred says delicately as he reaches for the first aid kit. 

“I can’t make them do something they don’t want to. I’ve tried that before, Alfred.” 

“Is that what’s happening this time?” Alfred’s gloved fingers graze over the cut on his cheek that Bruce has been trying to ignore. 

“I’m not sure how else I’d describe it. Every time I try to talk to one of them…I just make it worse. And I…” Bruce lets himself trail off, a cloud overtaking his thoughts. He knows he can trust Alfred, but if he admits his…weakness, it becomes real. 

“Master Bruce?” Alfred urges.

“I find myself feeling…wrongfooted, Alfred,” he confesses.

“However, so?” Alfred pulls his hand away from Bruce’s face so he can get a better look.

Bruce winces. The urge to curl in on himself hits with a violent surge.

“Master Bruce…whatever it is that… concerns you, know that it is not my position to hold it against you. I only want what is best for you and the young sirs,” Alfred says softly. “Even when you are being your recalcitrant self.”

Bruce grants him a wry smile at that.

“I’m still not sure I’m in the right place,” he says softly. “This world…I feel like a stranger here. I don’t recognize anything. I don’t recognize my…I don’t recognize my children. I don’t recognize my friends. Everyone is so different, and everyone wants me to react like nothing’s changed. I feel like I’m always half a step behind,” he reveals. It’s the truth. Bruce has felt…lost since he returned. Out of place. 

And now it feels like he can’t even talk to his children without making a misstep and breeding resentment.

“I can’t help but shake the feeling…maybe I shouldn’t have come back at all.” Bruce rubs at his eyes. He knows he could get more information. He could ask . The part of him that yearns to know, that seeks information like a bloodhound, has been screaming in his ears for months, but the moment he makes others aware…

What good would it do to let his weakness show?

Alfred hums again.

“You know…I’ve never known you to be a coward, Master Bruce. Hard-headed. Challenging. Unendingly morose at times—"

“Alfred.”

“I have cared for you most of my life. And in one my lowest moments, I have mourned you.” Alfred’s voice is soft. “Death has always had a way of digging its claws into this family. It would be a mistake to think that the loss of you didn’t leave its own scars, Master Bruce. Perhaps you are not the only one feeling ‘wrongfooted,’ as it were. Your sons…they each wore their grief differently. It changed them. And change like that is not so easily undone. They are new young men. You should not forget them as they were, but also know, you are allowed to know the men they are becoming and have become.” He rests his hand over Bruce’s. “There is much you don’t know. And it is not my place to tell you. But truly, I believe you all will come out the other side better for it.”

Bruce releases a shaky exhale. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

Fuck .

He’s gonna have to talk to people.

Chapter Text

Tim

He’s just made it into the office for the day when he sees he has a missed call. 

Bruce . 

Yikes. He’ll deal with that later. They’ve got a new product testing in a week, and Tim needs to familiarize himself with the specs before he tries to talk to R&D about it. Bruce can wait.

Alicia is already waiting for him, coffee order in one hand and an agenda in the other. It’s too early in the morning for her to look as frazzled as she does when she hands him the binder.

“There’s a reporter in your office,” she says hurriedly as she matches his stride on the way to the elevator. “Mr. Fox said you’d want to handle her yourself, but I didn’t want you to walk in unprepared.”

“A reporter?” He mouths incredulously. “Why the hell?”

“I’m unsure. She’s alone, but she insisted she speak to you and only you.” Alicia purses her lips.

“Alicia,” Tim sighs.

“Yes, Mr. Drake-Wayne?”

“Remind me to fire Lucius later.”

--

“Mrs. Lane,” Tim greets her carefully when he sees who's waiting for him in his office. She’s dressed well in a classic pantsuit, her press pass resting securely from her neck. She's got a slung over her shoulder, and she doesn’t look like she’s been waiting long. “Or I suppose it’s Lane-Kent.”

“Just Lane. I kept the name,” Lois deadpans before she seats herself on one of the chairs in front of Tim’s desk. “But you can call me Lois, Tim. I like to think we know each other somewhat by now. And if not, I get the feeling we’ll be getting to know each other better soon.”

“Hm…” Tim takes his seat at his desk and gestures for Alicia. “Lois, you came all this way. I’m sorry I wasn’t aware you’d be joining me today, or I would’ve had lunch waiting for us. Can I have Alicia grab you anything? A coffee? The cafeteria has spinach wraps today. I’m told they’re very good.”

Lois waves him off. “No, thank you, Tim. I ate on the way over here. I just came by because I wanted to have a conversation with you,” her eyes flicker to Alicia, “but it’s of a sensitive nature.”

Well, that’s not ominous at all.

“Off the record?” Tim questions.

Lois grins. “On my honor.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. He has a feeling he knows what this is about, but Lois wouldn’t…right?

“Very well then. Alicia, hold my calls for the moment. I’ll finish up with my new friend Mrs. Lane, and then we’ll go over the quarterly reports as planned. Also, make sure I have some time later in the day to talk to Mr. Fox.”

“Of course, Mr. Drake-Wayne. I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re unavailable for the time being.” Alicia nods before she leaves, the door closing quietly behind her.

Tim waits a beat before he flips the switch on his desk, soundproofing the room and disabling any potential recording devices.

You can never be too careful, after all.

“Well…we should have plenty of time to talk now. I hope you weren’t too hurt by WE leaving the Daily Planet out of the press blitz for Jason and Roy’s wedding. Your paper isn’t well known for its entertainment section, or we would’ve had you or Clark come by.” Tim keeps his posture open. Shoulders back but not tense. Elbows on the desk with sleeves rolled up. Open. Engaged. 

Completely non-threatening.

“No hard feelings at all,” Lois says, and she takes her time matching his posture, “it was clear you all were going in a more high fashion and lifestyle direction. The rollout was executed well.” She smiles softly. “No…I came here to talk about Conner, actually.”

As he thought then. “That’s interesting. I don’t see Conner here to speak for himself,” Tim replies carefully. 

He can't tell if Lois is amused or annoyed. Maybe she’s both.

"No," she says, "he's not." She sighs deeply, her hand going to her forehead. “But he’s also not the person I think I need to talk to.”

Tim narrows his eyes. “I’d rather not talk behind my boyfriend’s back, Lois. If you have an issue with Kon–”

“It’s not an issue per se. It’s more of a…concern? And I know how much you care about Conner. I care about him too. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, Tim.” Lois grants him a tense smile, her blue eyes searching his face. Tim’s bad feeling grows.

“...alright. What can I help you with?”

Lois leans back in her chair and exhales.

“Conner missed family dinner last night. He’s been missing a lot lately. Dinner with the Kents. Hangouts with the Team. Dodging phone calls left and right. We’re…worried.”

Tim fights the urge to tense, and despite the fury settling in, he keeps his composure.

“Worried,” he echoes. That’s what Clark had said too.

“I know it’s so easy to get all wrapped up in each other. Especially when it feels like it’s you two versus the whole world—”

“And is it not?” Tim challenges. “Me and Conner versus the world, that is? If it’s not, you and I have very different memories of the last few years.” He bends his arm at the elbow and rests his chin against his palm. He can hear his office clock ticking in the background, the silence between them letting it echo loudly. 

Lois finally yields. “You’re right. The last few years have been… challenging for us all."

"Some of us more than others," Tim snarks unhelpfully. "So let me get this straight. You think Kon and I are…spending too much time together? Moved in too quickly? He's my partner, Lois. He's also an adult."

"Genetically, he's 19," Lois counters, and Tim can see it now. This is a fight. "In reality, Conner’s so much younger than that. You're both…kids. I know that gets warped sometimes because Bruce treats you like an adult–"

"I am an adult," Tim says distractedly. The light on his desk phone is flashing suddenly. 

Hm. 

It can wait.

"Can you legally buy alcohol on your own?” Lois challenges, her words drawing his attention back to their conversation. “Can either of you? You're both kids who've been through so much together. First loves–"

"I'm not Kon's first love, Lois.” Tim groans, “he's dated other people before me. You'd know that if you knew him for more than two years."

Lois just smiles sadly. "You're right. Clark failed Conner, and by extension, so did I. He deserved to grow up with a family. Loved and supported, not alone in some tower–"

"He wasn't alone. He had us." He'd had Cassie and Bart. He'd had Tim .

"And when you all were gone? Away at school or living with your families?"

“You say that as if that was our fault, Lois. Clark had a choice. He made it. We were there for Conner as much as we could’ve been. If I could go back, I would be there for him even more.” Tim can feel himself growing agitated. “Conner’s not a dog or a toy. Clark can’t just pick him up and put him down when it suits him. If he wants to live with me and be together, I’m not gonna tell him he can’t because you all have feelings about it. It’ll be our choice. Not yours.”

Lois purses her lips.

“You love him,” she says.

“I like to think that’s obvious, but yes, I love him.” Tim rests his hands on his desk to keep himself from throwing things.

“And I’m sure he loves you. I know it. I also know how… intense you can be.” Lois says it delicately, like she’s not smashing Tim’s skull in with a hammer. “I get it, too. I can get the same way. Single-minded. Devoted. Obsessive . But I’ve learned that’s not a healthy way to be if I want to be in a relationship. I can’t just disappear —”

“Okay. I see what this is. I don’t need an intervention, Mrs. Lane, and I certainly don’t need your help. I don’t know what Clark told you, but I’m sure I can guess. I’m unstable. A loose canon. Cold and unfeeling. Like Bruce. I bet that concern got even worse when everyone found out my family’s dirty little secret, didn't it? And maybe that scares you.”

“Tim—”

“No. You came all this way to talk it out. Let’s talk it out. I’m fucking crazy, right? I know what everyone says. ‘Tim didn’t know how to let go.’ Only that’s not the truth, is it? I know how to let go. I let go when my mom died. My dad. My real dad, that is. I’m not like Clark; I don’t really care about DNA.”

Lois’s mouth twists into a frown at the dig.

“I didn’t let go because I was right, and I knew it. I knew Clark would never apologize, but shifting blame so that I’m somehow still the problem is…asinine. If your husband has an issue with my methods or my relationship, he’s more than welcome to have it out with me himself. Or if he’s oh so concerned, he can certainly take it up with Bruce.”

And there’s Tim’s trump card. 

Let Clark have it out with Bruce. Let him admit what he did. Does Tim know how Bruce would react? No. But he’s sure Clark doesn’t either. That’s what matters.

“Beyond that, Mrs. Lane, I’m unsure what there is to discuss. If you want Conner to come around more, you should probably do something to make him feel like it’s worth it. Gotham has its issues, but our restaurant scene is impeccable, so…you’re gonna have to entice him with more than food if you want to get him out of my apartment.”

Lois looks like she’s eaten something particularly sour, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed.

“That’s it then?” She says.

“I’m unsure what else there is to say. You want me to tell Conner what to do, and I’m letting you know I’m not going to. If that’s all, I know it looks like WE runs itself, but I do have a busy day ahead of me. I can call someone to see you out. Maybe Lucius! I’m told you two are such good friends.” Tim gets to his feet and strides over to the door.

Alicia is already there, clipboard in hand.

“Mr. Drake-Wayne! Mrs. Lane, I’ve arranged an escort for you. Mr. Drake-Wayne, your father is on line one. He’s been quite insistent that he needs to speak to you. Promptly.” 

Bruce? Again? 

“Ole’ Brucie’s ears must’ve been burning,” Lois sighs as she grabs her purse. “Well, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do, Mr. Drake-Wayne.”

“I’ll handle it, Alicia. You have a great rest of your week, Mrs. Lane. Be sure to let me know if I can help you with anything else.” Tim closes his door before she has the chance to answer.

He walks back over to his desk and grabs the phone off the still-blinking console.

“Go for Tim,” he says.

“ Tim? I’ve been calling you for an hour. ”

“Sorry. I’m at work, Bruce.” Running your company, he doesn’t say.

“ I’m aware. I’m also aware you had a guest. ”

It takes Tim a moment to digest what he just heard.

“Oh…did Lucius call you?” He tries.

“ No. You forgot to disable the bug in the desk phone. It’s shielded by the interior of the phone, so the office jammer doesn’t work. ”

Tim looks down at the phone console, the flashing light mocking him.

“So…you eavesdropped on my conversation?” He asks slowly.

“ I wanted to check and see if you were in the office or not . I didn’t intend to listen in. ”

“But you did.”

“ Only after I realized why Lois had really come. Why didn’t you tell me you were having issues with Clark? ”

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Tim

Bruce doesn’t let Tim hang up without an assurance that he'll come by the cave after patrol to discuss ‘ what's been left unsaid.’ Tim had slammed the phone down on the receiver before plucking the entire phone off his desk. 

“Have this destroyed, please,” he says as he sets it down in front of Alicia. “Doused with bleach and incinerated.” 

Alicia glances at the plain black desk phone. “Of course? Right away, sir.”

“Thank you. I’m headed down to R&D. Send Lucius down when you get the chance. No rush.” Tim grants her a mega-watt smile that he’s sure he looks a little manic but, like always, Alicia does as she’s bid.

Tim steals himself and heads to the elevator. Family problems, later. Business solutions, now.

--

Tim comes home to an empty apartment. He expected it. Kon’s got an exam coming up, so he’s been staying out late with his study group to prepare. He kicks off his shoes and grabs his phone. The sun’s just now going down. Bruce will be out on the streets soon, which means he’ll be back in the cave soon, which means Tim is gonna have to cover his ass—

He presses the call button.

“ You know I’m busy, right? ” Jason’s annoyed voice greets his ears. There’s soft music playing in the background and a clinking that sounds like glassware.

"And here I thought you’d gotten lost over there in the mountains. How's the place holding up?" Tim laughs awkwardly. It’s good to hear his voice, annoyance and all.

" Don’t be fucking dense, Replacement. I know you know this place is amazing. That fucking jacuzzi tub is crazy. Very experimental with the jets. " And Tim doesn’t have to see Jason’s face to picture the lasciviousness of his smirk. 

"Gross,” Tim groans.

" Oh, please. Like you wouldn't smash the clone in it. "

"You're disgusting ."

" No, I'm horny and on my honeymoon with no child to mind. You're lucky to be speaking to me at all, Princess. What do you want? " He can hear Jason shifting around. Maybe getting more comfortable?

“ Hi, Tim!” Roy’s voice is faint in the background.

“Tell Roy I said ‘hi,’” Tim chuckles tiredly, “and I’m calling you about Bruce."

“ Calling me about my estranged dad while I’m on my honeymoon should be a capital offense, Timbo, ” Jason says.

"So you should know I'm not doing it for no reason," Tim hangs his keys on the keyring before heading for his couch. He settles in and props his feet up on the pillows. “Lois cornered me at work about Kon. Bruce overhead everything through a secret bug in my office.”

“ I’m sorry, what? He bugged your office? ”

“I think he bugged his office and just forgot to mention the jammer-proof one in the receiver of my desk phone." Tim rubs at his forehead. 

" Forgot? Right. B is definitely the type of guy to forget some shit like that.” Tim could do without the sarcasm. “Why would Supe's wife corner you at work, though? How the fuck did she even get in? I had to sign, like, so many check-in sheets whenever I came by, and everyone knows we’re brothers. "

“Lucius thought she had come by in an official capacity. Cape-related. She didn't correct him.” Tim had been annoyed with Lucius, but he’d been appropriately apologetic. With everything going on with Luthor and the media, the older man had thought she was an ally like she’d been to Bruce. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

“ What a conniving little–hey! ”

" Be nice, " Tim hears Roy say in the background 

" Fuck you! "

" Not with your brother on the phone. "

"Children, please," Tim sighs.

" Easy replacement. You’re the one who disturbed my fuckfest— "

" Jason! "

"Jason!" Tim shouts.

" You. Called. Me. On my honeymoon." Jason drags out each syllable. " You get what you get. Why was Lane in your office? "

"To get me and Kon to break up. She didn't use those words, but I got the gist," Tim explains.

" What? You and the clone are like soulmates are some shit. Why would she want you to break up? "

"Because apparently, I'm still crazy .” It comes out softer than Tim intends, his tone betraying how he really feels. 

Jason doesn't say anything for a moment, the silence sitting heavy between them, and then suddenly, he bursts out laughing.

" Roy, get a load of this. The hick wants Conner to break up with his billionaire boyfriend because Tim was right and he was wrong. " He says between peals of laughter. 

" I'm sure it's more complicated than that. Hi Tim, you're on speakerphone.” Roy’s voice is much closer this time.

"They still think I'm crazy," Tim explains again. 

" I mean, you are. We all are. You try growing up under the king of neuroses and come out on the other side normal. But, like, of the choices, it's you or Goldie, and the last I checked Dickie Bird didn't like dick. "

" Well… "

"Roy, please.” Tim’s not above begging. He does not want to know.

" No no, let him go back. Explain how you fucked or didn't fuck my brother while we're on our honeymoon. That's gonna work out so well for you. " Jason sounds like a riled cat this time.

"Can we please stay focused on my boyfriend’s family trying to tear us apart? I’d appreciate it. Thanks."

" Honestly, this doesn't sound like your problem,” Roy chimes in. “They're Kon's family. If Ollie had issues with Jason, I wouldn't expect Jason to handle him. He's my family, so he’s my responsibility. Let this be Kon's problem. He’s gotta be the one to set the boundary.”

“ Okay, Dr. Phil. Sheesh. Look who’s all adjusted . ” 

“ What can I say? It’s the rehab. Something had to stick eventually. ” 

"I can’t just hang Kon out to dry," Tim interjects.

“ You’re not hanging out to dry. You’re setting boundaries for yourself. Would you expect Kon to handle Bruce if he was being inappropriate? ” 

“Bruce would squash the clone like a bug, ” Jason agrees. “Better you handle him, Timbo. And since he’s snooping, tell him Supes is being a dick. "

"You know Bruce won't accept that," Tim challenges. Bruce and Clark are friends. He trusts Superman. Bruce will surely take him at his word that he’s being unreasonable .

" So? Make him accept it. You've done it before. " Jason says it like it’s the most simple thing in the world. “ If anyone can convince Bruce to do something he doesn’t want to, it’s you. Just don’t brag about okay, Timbalina? We gotta go. Our dinner just got delivered but let me know if I gotta shoot someone. ”

“ Bye, Tim! Good luck!”

“Bye,” Tim says, and he feels just a smidge bit better. Not much, but it’s something. He’s handled Bruce before. He can do it. Play the role of the dutiful soldier. It’s a role never really shed, so it should be easy enough. 

Bruce

Tim’s already in the cave when Bruce pulls the batmobile onto the landing. He’s focused on the batcomputer, his hands flying over the keys.

“Sorry,” Tim calls. “I figured if I was gonna come by, I might as well update some files. I didn’t realize how behind I had gotten with everything going on at WE. Everything should be updated and correct now.” Tim glances up as Bruce makes his way over, discarding his cowl and gloves on the way.

“Thank you for coming. Nightwing and Robin retired to the penthouse for the night, so it’ll just be us and Alfred. I figured that might be easier,” Bruce says, and he makes sure to keep his voice neutral. Tim is dressed the like the young man Bruce is coming to know. Slacks and crisp dress shirt with sleeves rolled up. He’s lost the waistcoat for now but still looks nothing like the disheveled teen Bruce remembers.

“You wanted to discuss what you overheard, yes?” He says.

“Yes. I apologize for listening in. I couldn’t get ahold of you, and when I turned on the bug, I was surprised to hear you and Lois…in conflict. The last time Clark and I spoke, I thought things were going….” How were things going , he thinks. Certainly not well, but he hadn’t thought it’d risen to the point of significant conflict. “Things seemed to be okay. But apparently, that’s not the case.”

Tim nods sharply. "Clark and Lois have some concerns about the status of my relationship with Kon. We’re talking things through, which you overheard. Actually, when I step back and think about it, I understand where their concern stems from. There's a power dynamic inherent to our relationship that we don't often acknowledge. I think Clark and Lois see it and maybe don't understand that Kon is savvy enough to protect himself from me. It’s a very valid concern. I intend to apologize to Lois for some of my less-than-polite phrasings, and then I’ll defer to Kon on how to proceed with his family unit." Tim shrugs then, and his expression is almost…bored. Entirely laissez-faire. It doesn’t match with the impassioned voice he’d heard on the line. The clear and evident frustration.

"That’s it? That's the only issue? Clark and Lois have concerns about your…relationship?"

Tim nods, and Bruce…doesn’t believe it. 

It wouldn’t be the first time Tim’s lied to his face. He’s one of the few people who can without always getting caught.

“I’m handling it. It shouldn’t be much of an issue much longer.” 

This doesn’t make sense. Tim and Kon are fine . That’s one of the few things Bruce is actually certain of. They’re good kids. And they seem…happy. Bruce knows Tim. As methodical and opportunistic as he can be, he’s still a good kid. He would never…take advantage.

More importantly, if Clark and Lois were so concerned, why wouldn’t they say something to Bruce instead of his 18-year-old son?

“I…I feel like you’re not telling me something, Tim. This doesn’t seem like enough to warrant your reaction to Lois nor her reaction to you. Coming all the from Metropolis to ask about the goings on of two teenagers? No. And you seemed…angry. Uncontrolled. It was unlike you,” Bruce says. He watches Tim’s shoulders tense, a crack forming in his protege’s cleverly crafted mask.

“Are you assuming that I did something wrong?” Tim finally asks, and there it is. There’s the edge Bruce knew was there. 

“Did you?” He asks delicately.

Tim flinches back as if Bruce had struck him, and it’s clear the mask has shattered, a twisted frown curling its way on Tim’s face.

“It’s always me, right?” He bites out. I’m always the problem. Never anyone else. Lois and Clark can’t possibly be wrong. I must’ve done something more to upset them.” 

“I didn’t say that–”

“Yes, you did!”

“No, I did not, Timothy,” Bruce says firmly. “Enough. I asked a question, and you chose not to answer. If you don’t think you did anything wrong, say that!” 

“Fine. I don’t think I did anything wrong. I’m going to guess that that’s not enough for you.”

“An explanation would be nice, yes. Something is wrong, and I can’t do anything about it unless someone finally tells me what’s going on, and you seem to be right at the heart of it.” Bruce is frustrated, his patience wearing thin. This has gone on for long enough. “Why does Lois really want you to stay away from Kon-El?”

Tim lets out an exhausted laugh. “Haven’t you heard, Bruce? I’m crazy . Deranged. Unstable. Unwilling or unable to get help. I would’ve thought your friends in the JLA would’ve told you all about your wildcard son by now.”

Crazy?

Tim’s one of the most rational people Bruce knows. It’s why they work so well together. Tim sees the facts. Sees the details. His work is unimpeachable, so how–

“Why…would anyone think you were unstable, Tim?” He asks carefully, and it feels like preparing to take a leap without a grappling hook. He knows that once he knows , he’ll be in freefall. All that’s left is to wonder how far the bottom is.

Tim eyes him carefully, an exhaustion far beyond his years shadowing his face.

“Because…because I knew you were alive. ”

Chapter Text

Tim (Before)

Tim can barely believe it when he sees him. They’re keeping him behind a thick glass shield. ‘ Radiation, they’d explained as if Tim would care. Of course, there had to be complications from the Omega Beams. Tim had planned for this. 

Bruce looks absolutely ragged, his hair long and unkempt and his face unshaven. The batsuit appears almost quilted together, obviously patched and pieced back together, again and again, a tapestry of Bruce’s journey across time. The man looks exhausted but in good spirits as he answers Diana’s questions. Her lasso is tied around his wrist, but he doesn’t seem bothered.

“I assumed my retrieval would take some time. It was difficult to figure out the best way to leave artifacts behind without worry of decay. My memory also suffered with each lurch through time. It would take me a while to remember where I was and where I was supposed to be, which also left me with limited time to leave something behind before the next jump,” he explains as they check his vitals again.

“It sounds impossible….” Diana says softly.

“At times, it felt impossible. But it’s good to be back.” Bruce says it like it’s nothing. Like his appearance hasn’t shifted the entire existence of the world around him. “Gotham?” He inquires.

“In capable hands,” Clark says. “Dick has handled the mantle admirably though I don’t think he’ll mind handing it back over to you. When you’re ready, of course.”

“Good, I knew he would. Is he here?”

“Ah…no. Not right now. I believe J’onn is trying to get him on the line to let him know we were successful. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you, though,” Clark says delicately. He looks like he can’t believe what’s in front of his eyes still. To be fair, everyone looks that way. 

‘Pleased, ’ Tim thinks uncharitably. For all the work Tim did, Dick had better be a hell of a lot more than ‘ pleased.’  Grateful. Groveling.

“ Timothy is here, though,” Diana says softly, “and I’m sure he’s anxious to see you. He’s been…relentless in his work to retrieve you.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Bruce says as he stands up. He looks shaky for a moment but rejects attempts to aid him. “It’s what he was trained to do. I’m sure he’s already begun his report.”

He has. He’s surprised Dick hasn’t already flagged the draft, but…maybe he knows now.

“Would you like to go in now?” Barry’s voice comes softly from behind him.

Tim tries to keep the eagerness out of his nod. He can pull it together.

The metal doors slide open, and Tim strides forward.

Diana and Clark glance at him, their gazes knowing as he steps forward.

“Welcome home, B,” he says. Bruce’s eyes hone in on him, and there’s a familiar look on his face. Not proud, no, Bruce is never proud of Tim. He looks certain. Assured like this was a foregone conclusion. Of course, this was how the saga was supposed to end.

Hm.

He’ll never know how precarious this all was. 

Bruce extends his hand. Tim shakes it. 

“Well done,” Bruce says.

“Thanks, B. Good to have you back.” Tim’s face hurts, his smile is so wide. It’s done.

Tim

It feels like a typical mission report, even though Tim knows this is anything but typical. He stands with this back ramrod straight and lets the words flow as if it had been any other mission.

Bruce asks questions, of course, rapid-fire and no-nonsense. Tim answers each as completely as he can. It's just another mission debrief, he tells himself.

"When I returned, it was to the Watchtower. Several members of the JLA were present. Am I to understand that they were not a part of the data collection process that led to my retrieval? At any point?"

Tim takes a deep breath, lifts the bus, and proceeds to pitch everyone he can think of under it.

"After I searched the globe for enough evidence to convince them that you were, in fact, stuck in the timestream, along with the incident with the Black Lanterns, League leadership joined the mission. They'd actively been a part of my search for about 12 hours at that point. I'd been gathering data for about a year. It's why it took me so long," Tim admits.

Bruce’s eyes narrow.

“You retrieved all of the artifacts I left solely by yourself?” He presses.

Tim bites the inside of his cheek. It won’t do him good to lie now. With all of the Demon Head’s recent interference…Bruce will likely find out sooner rather than later. Better he hears it from Tim.

“Due to the lack of…support. I was forced to seek alternative resources and assistance in my journey to locate you. One of them being…Ra’s al Ghul.”

A beat passes.

“You chose…to work with Ra’s?”

“I had little option at the time,” Tim rushes to defend himself, “It was the only viable way to gain resources to support my search. I understood that the support was conditional—”

“Conditional?” Bruce zeroes in, “what condition?”

“It’s been resolved—”

“What. Condition. ” Bruce questions sharply. 

Tim sighs. He knew Bruce would be upset. “Ra’s agreed to help me provided I remain by his side and study to become his heir. I… negotiated a separate condition when fighting the Council of Spiders. Ra's took blood as repayment instead. He also tried to sabotage WE, but that’s been dealt with as well.”

“Took blood. From you?”

“Yes. I was injured and unconscious. When I woke up…I discovered that he’d removed my spleen. I’ve been under Leslie’s care and on a strict regimen of antibiotics and probiotics. It’s been handled.”

Bruce’s brow furrows.

“So, he’s aware then? Of your… connection to me?”

For a moment, Tim doesn’t understand.

Then it clicks.

Fuck. How had Tim missed it?

“You’re right. There’s no way he didn’t run DNA.” Tim wants to smack himself. Of course, it’s been Ra’s. So many of the pieces of the last year click into place. Tim had done so much to keep that secret under wraps—it had to be Ra’s. “He likely knew he could further destabilize and undermine our family, and I let him,” Tim groans. He’ll have to rethink everything from the last few months. The breaking in the press. Luthor . It could’ve all been a play to keep Tim off-kilter. 

The worst part is…it’s worked .

“It was an oversight,” Tim says finally. “It won’t happen again.”

Bruce looks contemplative.

“I’m still struggling to understand,” Bruce says. “I’m struggling to understand why you were alone in this. I don’t understand how that could have happened.”

Tim bristled at that. "I’m unsure what there is to understand. They believed you were dead. I didn't."

"Your brothers–"

“—believed you were dead.”

“Dick?” 

“Training Damian. Managing Gotham. Grieving.” Bruce’s eyes narrow. He knows there’s more there. Tim can keep it at bay.

“The Team?”

“…I was removed from the team due to my ‘instability,’" Tim parrots it. He still remembers the day it happened. He’d stood up straight then too. Faced the accusation like a man facing execution.

"Instability," Bruce echoes quietly.

"It was a fair assessment. In hindsight…I was desperate. It…showed. And you can't lead a team that's lost faith in you. I understood." He didn’t. But it doesn’t matter anymore.

Bruce nods, but the expression on his face is anything but agreeable.

“I understand. Thank you for your report. I’m sure you have a long day you need to prepare for at WE tomorrow,” he says.

Tim knows when he’s been dismissed. 

“Of course.”

Kon

Kon hasn’t felt this angry in a while. Not since he was last in Luthor’s office because that asshole was fucking with his life.

And now Clark is doing the same thing. Jesus Christ it’s like they’re the same person in two different bodies. It drives Kon crazy.

Fury courses through him like a raging fire as he touches down in Smallville. Clark wanted him to come to dinner. Fine . He’ll get exactly what he wants. 

Kon bangs his way through the front door of the farmhouse (he’d take it off the hinges if they were at Clark’s place, but he won’t do that to Martha) and makes his way to the dining room.

Martha and Jon are already there setting out food though Conner’s dramatic entrance has clearly gotten their attention. 

“Conner, you’re here! Is everything alright?” Martha asks when she sees him. “You look so upset.” 

Kon waves her off. She isn’t the one he came to see. 

“Conner?”

Clark steps out from the kitchen, a bowl of mashed potatoes in his arms. “Hey, I heard you come in,” he says, “is everything okay?”

“Are you fucking deranged ?” Kon bursts. “You sent your wife to corner my boyfriend at his office?!” And hadn’t that been a hell of a phone conversation with Tim? He’d been so nonchalant about the attack, more focused on his upcoming issues with Bruce than on the gross crossing of boundaries—

“What? Oh, Clark, please tell me that isn't true–”

Clark looks pissed. "First, watch your language–" 

“Fuck you!” Kon explodes.

"Conner!" Clark sets the bowl down on the table and faces Conner, shoulders back like he’s bracing for a fight.

Good .

"No! You don't get to do this! You don't get to try to intimidate my boyfriend–"

"Conner, wait. No one wants to intimidate Tim,” Lois appears behind Clark. Conner hadn’t even heard her come in.

"No, that’s exactly what you’re doing. You two find out you can't have a kid and all a sudden, it’s ‘let’s get to know Kon.’ ‘Let's try to parent the kid I pretended didn't exist for years.’ I am not your son, Clark. You said that to my face when I first came to you. You said it over and over again, and I believed you. I respected your wishes even though it hurt.” Kon’s so angry he wants to fucking cry, but he won’t . He won’t give Clark that. “I started to make my own family until you tried to break that one too. The team was my family, and now none of us can even look at each other, and that's not because of Tim. That's because of you!”

“Conner–”

“Leave me alone. You're not my father, Clark. I don't have a father. I don't have grandparents. I don't have anyone . And I'm okay with that. Tim is my partner . He’s not going anywhere. You keep coming after the person I love? We're gonna have problems. Do you understand?”

“Conner…”

“I asked you if you understood?”

Clark shakes his head, but it looks involuntary like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. “I…I understand.”

“Good. Have a good night, everyone.” He fights the urge to apologize to the elder Kents as he leaves. Tim won’t be back at home yet, he’s gotta face his own firing squad, but Kon will be there waiting for him.

Chapter Text

Bruce

For the next few days, Bruce… simmers . 

His initial instinct is to rage. To storm about, red fire hot and lethal—Bruce wants to pound something into dust.

Could Tim have lied? Of course. The boy’s done it before but only ever in the service of the mission. A lie like this serves no one. In fact, it makes everything worse . That’s likely why Tim chose to keep it to himself from the beginning. He knows better than to disrupt potential mission success for something as trivial as an interpersonal issue. Bruce would be more annoyed about the deception if it wasn’t exactly what he’d always taught his sons to do.

Bruce has no idea who to trust. He’s always thought that…if something did happen to him, his children would be in safe hands. The most capable of hands (perhaps even more capable than his own), and yet, here he sits. Tim sought aid from Ra’s al Ghul of all people. The Demon’s Head. His son felt he didn’t have any other choice than to go to a megalomaniac, and look what it cost them?

Blood and secrets spilled all over out in the open for all to see. His family left ripped open and exposed. 

It’s unforgivable. 

“B?” 

Bruce looks up to see Dick standing in the doorway. Bruce has been in his study ruminating, the bookshelves staring back. Has been in and out of there for days thinking . Not even Alfred has been able to pull him his “strop.” 

“I wanted to let you know that I brought Dami home. He’s up in his room. I’ve got some things to take care of in Bludhaven, so…. It also may do you two some good to spend time together. Without me, I mean,” Dick laughs awkwardly. 

“Thank you,” is all Bruce can make himself say. He’ll check in on Damian later.

Dick’s brow furrows. 

“Is everything okay? You’re sitting in here with the lights off, and Alfred said you’ve been… in a mood ,” he says.

“Everything’s fine, Richard. Thank you for bringing Damian home. I’ll see you when you return,” Bruce says tiredly, hoping the dismissal will work this time.

“Oh wow. ‘ Richard ?’ Someone’s pissed. Alfred’s right. You are in a mood.” Dick snorts as he steps fully into the study and allows the door to close behind him. Wonderful. It had the opposite effect. “Jay and Roy just got back. I know you said you were okay with them—”

Bruce takes offense to that insinuation. “I’m not upset with Jason and Roy, Dick. We had lunch when Alfred and I picked them up from the airport and parted on good terms. Things are fine.” And they had been. The meal had only been slightly awkward.

Dick’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline. “Well, congrats on being an involved father, Bruce. Really. We’re all very surprised and impressed,” he says airily.

That’s Bruce’s last straw.

“I spoke to Tim like you asked,” he says, “it was a very illuminating conversation.”

To his credit, Dick’s expression doesn’t change much. He doesn’t rush to defend himself. Doesn’t fumble his way through an explanation. Dick just takes a seat in the empty chair across from Bruce, the desk between them. 

“Alright, I asked for this,” he sighs, “I’m sure that was a lot for you to hear. Tim probably had a lot to say.”

“As a matter of fact, he did,” Bruce replies edgily.

“Mhm,” Dick hums. “Okay. Out with it.” 

And that’s enough. 

"How could you let this happen, Dick?" He demands. 

Now, that seems to be enough to get Dick going, finally. " Let this happen?” He says disbelievingly. “I didn't let anything happen. I lost control of the situation, Bruce!"

" Batman doesn't ‘lose control,’ Dick! He can’t!"

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not Batman anymore, isn't it?!" Dick explodes. "I'm not you, Bruce! I've never been you! I don't see the world you do! Or the way Tim does!" 

Dick squeezes his eyes shut, and all at once, it’s like the fight goes out of him. He slumps back in his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and his thumb. It’s odd for Bruce, actually. It’s not the Dick he remembers. The Dick he remembers could go back and forth for hours. Seemed to prefer it that way, actually. 

"I made a mistake. A lot of mistakes," he says finally. “And I haven’t really known what to do about them.”

"Abandoning your brother isn't a mistake, Dick," Bruce counters hotly.  

"I did not abandon him. I did not, don't you ever say that, Bruce. Not ever. I made a choice, and I thought it was the right one–I’m still not totally sure it wasn’t–but I know I hurt Tim. I know I did. I didn't think—” Dick inhales sharply. “I thought you were dead, Bruce. No. I knew you were dead and when Tim started talking about artifacts and signals…I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle the idea that you were just… out there, and I didn’t know. We’d just buried you. I feel like I would’ve known. I felt it when my parents died–” Dick turns his head, and shakes it as if clearing cobwebs. “And I felt it when you…died. And it almost tore me apart all over again, and Tim just wouldn’t let it go . And, of course, he was right. We all know that now but at the time, I thought he was just like me. Stuck and grieving and overwhelmed . I don’t think you understand how much shifted when you ‘died.’ Everything changed. Everything . You would've done better? You've never lost yourself trying to keep it together in grief?"

Dick shakes his head again.

“Damian was going to leave. He wanted to go back to his mother, and I knew you would hate that. I wanted to make sure he stayed here. I knew you would want him here, and I did anything I could think of to keep him here. And I sacrificed Tim in the process. I know I did. I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again, given the choice. I don’t know what the alternative is I—”

Dick looks at him then.

“I pushed Tim to the side because I thought he would grow on his own like I did. And he did, Bruce. Tim’s always been impressive, but now he’s…he’s a force. And I'm not taking credit for that. He did it on his own, and I’m really proud of him.” Dick sighs and looks down at his lap. "I handled it wrong. I know that, and I'm… glad I was wrong. I'm working on making my own peace with Tim, but I've also learned that trying to force it with him doesn't work. Kind of like trying to force it with you, you know?” He smiles sadly. “So I’m just trying to…be there. He needs Damian wrangled? I’ll do it. Needs me to help out at Jason’s wedding? I’ll make sure things get done."

Bruce honestly doesn’t know what to say. There’s a part of him that wants to reach across his desk and throttle Dick, but a bigger part of him wants to hug him. He knows he puts a lot on Dick. He always has. 

But he must stay focused.

“How did Clark get involved?” He asks.

Dick’s brow furrows, and a look of confusion overtakes his face. "I asked Clark for help when Tim first left. Tim wouldn't talk to me anymore. I wanted someone to look in on him, especially after Kon died. I was worried he’d…hurt himself or get hurt in the process. I definitely didn't think he was gonna kick Tim off the team. If I’d known that I would’ve just kept things internal, but the damage was done. All it did was drive the kid even further underground. We didn’t speak again until J’onn called me because you were on the Watchtower. We haven’t really talked since."

“Why did you go to Clark at all?”

Dick looks confused at the question. “Because I trusted him. And I trusted him because you trusted him.”

And that’s it, isn’t it? Of course, Dick trusted Clark. Bruce wouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Do you know why Clark is… concerned about Tim and Conner's relationship?”

Now, Dick just looks even more confused. “Concerned? What do you mean concerned?”

“Nevermind. I was just wondering if you knew—”

“No, we’re not gonna speed past that; what’s going on?”

“I’m still not entirely sure myself. I haven’t spoken to Clark yet,” Bruce sighs.

“But something is going on?” Dick clarifies.

“...yes.”

“Tell me everything.” 

T im

“I’m sorry, you did what? Kon! Why would you do that?!” Tim whispers furiously. They’re putting in an appearance at one of Gotham’s newest restaurants. It’s private enough, but Tim can barely contain himself. He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“It needed to be said. They were outta line. How do I eat this?” Kon looks down at the fish course they’ve just been served.

“Use your knife and fork to separate the flesh into bites. Don’t try to cut it. Just pull gently,” Tim explains offhandedly. 

“Next time, I’m picking the restaurant. We could’ve gone to Five Guys,” Kon grouses, but he follows Tim’s instructions.

“Don’t try to distract me, Kon-El –”

“Oooh, full name. Also, I think it’s supposed to be Luthor when we're out in public,” Kon snorts.

“The point! The point is I’m a big boy, Kon. I can handle Lois. I can even handle Clark if I need to. You didn’t need to blow things up with the Kents over me. I shouldn’t have told you. I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Okay, but that’s my point. You shouldn’t have to ‘handle’ anything. And yeah, you should’ve told me. I’m glad you told me. This is exactly what I was talking about. I want to protect you. Between you and Mr. and Mrs. Kent, I’m gonna pick you every time. That’s my choice, Tim,” Kon says sternly. “It would’ve happened anyway. The whole ‘family’ thing we were doing was never going to work. Too much baggage.”

That could very well be true. There was a lot of ugly history there. Things that couldn’t be just waved away. It doesn’t stop Tim from feeling guilty. “It could’ve. I don’t know the elder Kents well, but everyone says they’re good people. And you deserve…you deserve family, Kon. I never want to be in the way of you having everything you deserve.” 

“They are good people,” Kon agrees. “They’re just not my people. They’re Clark’s people. They’re always gonna choose him. I want people in my life who are going to choose me. You chose me. I have friends that choose me. That’s enough. Maybe I’ll have a mentor someday. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll get to be the mentor. Who knows?”

“Who knows…” Tim echoes. It’s not fair , he thinks. Kon is so good . He should get to have everything.

“Hey,” Kon taps his knife against Tim’s plate gently, “just so you know, you deserve good things too.”

Tim…has no idea what to do with that.

“Eat your branzino, Kon,” he says in lieu of anything else. “We have four courses left.”

“Wonderful. Next time we’re doing pizza.” Kon takes a vicious bite of his fish. Tim loves him. 

He doesn’t have many good things. But he has this thing.

Chapter Text

Tim

"No in-laws to worry about sounds like a win to me, Timbo," Jason kicks his feet up on Tim's coffee table like he knows Tim hates. "From my meager experience in marriage, in-laws are a fucking headache even when they’re estranged. Especially then."

“Move your feet, asshole,” Tim grouses as he sits down. “And it’s not about me having or not having in-laws . It’s about Kon having a healthy familial support system.”

“And that’s what the Kents are? Just because they’re cornfed hicks living away from the troubles of the big city doesn’t mean they’re automatically healthier than us, Tim. Does Clark seem healthy to you?” Jason quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“I’ve learned I may not be the best judge of what’s healthy,” Tim says airily, his voice lilting at the end. He deliberately avoids Jason’s piercing stare and focuses on the television screen in front of them. He’s set it to display a fireplace since that’s one of the few features missing from his apartment.

“Name a Wayne kid that’s healthy, ” Jason shrugs. 

Tim smiles wistfully at that. “Can’t think of one,” he replies. “Wanna watch Bake Off?”

He knows Jason sees right through him. Tim’s mask hasn’t been as sturdy lately, but Jason doesn’t press. He knows better. 

He just grabs the remote.

“Sure, Timbalina,” he says as he switches the screen to Netflix. 

Tim takes the out. 

Bruce

It’s clear from Clark’s expression that he knows exactly what this conversation is going to be about. He faces Bruce down like he would an executioner: 

Resigned but unafraid. 

He’s dressed more for Smallville than Metropolis in a red flannel and faded blue jeans. Bruce wonders if he flew in straight from there when he called.

“It’s good to see you, Bruce,” he says as the door closes behind him. 

“Thank you for coming,” Bruce replies evenly, “I know it was a last-minute ask.”

“Oh, of course. You sounded…concerned on the phone.” Clark follows him through the familiar winding halls of the manor until they land in front of Bruce’s study. 

Bruce unlocks the door and ushers him in. 

“I’ve informed Alfred that we’re having a discussion. He likely won’t disturb us,” Bruce says as he takes his seat behind the desk. The distance between them feels impossible to cross.

“This is serious then,” Clark confirms as he sits down himself. He studies Bruce then, sharp blue eyes roving over Bruce’s face. 

“I suppose that depends,” Bruce says. He leans his elbows against his desk, his hands clasped in front of him.

“On?”

Bruce sighs. One way or another, he knows this is going to hurt. There’s no turning back now. 

“On how you answer me, Clark. I want you to tell me what happened while I was gone.”

Clark doesn’t quite flinch, but he isn’t quite still either. There’s a tell there in the furrow of his brow and the twitch of his fingertips against the arms of his chair.

“I’m going to assume that you’ve already talked to Tim,” he finally exhales.

“Would it matter if I had?” Bruce counters.

“Let’s be serious, Bruce,” Clark says, “I know why you called me here. You want to tell me I screwed up to my face like I don’t already know that. Let’s be honest, please.”

“Honest? That’s very funny, Kal, because I don’t think you’ve been very honest with me.” And suddenly, Bruce feels thunderous . Barely leashed rage bubbles to the surface, and Bruce struggles to tamp it down.

Clark’s face shutters at the notion of his own dishonesty. He looks away from Bruce then, his eyes tracking something just over Bruce’s shoulder.

“I deserve that. I didn’t know how to tell you,” Clark says, and he shakes his head, “and it seemed like Tim just wanted to let it lie, so I left it alone. How could I not? But then he and Conner and everything with Lex and all the publicity…everything got so intense all of a sudden, and it didn’t feel like I could let it lie anymore.”

“So harassing my son at his job seemed like the better alternative? To what? Talking to me? I understand that I can be abrasive, but that’s never stopped you before. Explain to me why you thought that was acceptable, Clark. I’m trying to understand,” Bruce insists, and he is . He wants to understand because nothing makes sense. The Clark he knows would never do something like this.

Clark shakes his head. “It was never my goal to make Tim feel uncomfortable. Lois and I thought she would be the best person to talk to because he and I have so much baggage after everything that happened when you were gone and…I think I…no, I know I’ve gotten used to not having you as a middleman. Tim and I communicated a lot when you first disappeared, and I think…I don’t know if I can articulate it.”

“Try,” Bruce commands.

Clark actually laughs, but it’s a humorless thing, tired and wry. “It was strange. I think my brain knows that Tim’s a kid, and sometimes, it feels like he’ll never stop being a kid. But, other times, I hear him speak, and it feels like…it feels like….”

“Like what?”

“Well…like I’m talking to you . Back when we first met and barely knew each other. And you were different than you are now. Young but brilliant . Kind of a know-it-all. An absolutist. Unrelenting . Talking to him felt like talking to you, and when you were going…, it was jarring. It hurt. It was like I couldn’t even see him anymore, and every time I pushed, he pushed back twice as hard. I think I just wanted him to go away so I wouldn’t have to think about how much I missed you. And that was a mistake. Tim is Tim. And he is a completely different person from you. Sometimes…sometimes I forget that.” Clark pulls off his glasses and wipes at his face. “It’s not an excuse. And even if it was, it wouldn’t be a good one.”

Bruce studies him then. He’s known Clark for years. Has been skeptical of him. Resented him. Maybe even hated him at one point.

But he’s also cared for Clark. Maybe that’s why this hurts so much. Why it feels like a punch right to the chest. Bruce doesn’t give his care away easily. 

"You're my…friend, Kal,” he admits and years ago, that would’ve felt like losing something, but today it just feels like truth. “I wanted to believe you would care for them if anything happened to me. All of them. Even Tim. I didn’t think I would ever have to be careful with trusting you with them."

Clark’s expression shutters at the notion.

“I never want you to think you can’t trust me, Bruce,” he says, “I—our friendship means so much to me. You mean so much to me. You always have. And that extends to your boys.”

“Then why are you so against Tim and Conner dating?” Bruce has to ask. “What’s so wrong with him? That he sounds like me? ”

“I’m not–”

“Kal.”

Clark purses his lips, a troubled look on his face. He shakes his head slightly and clears his throat like he’s gearing himself up for something. 

“Bruce, I…there are things you don't know,” he starts,  “things he did while you were gone, Bruce. Things he did while Conner was gone.” 

Ah. That. That makes more sense. “You’re referring to the cloning attempts.”

Clark looks shocked, his eyebrows raising.

“He told you?” He says softly.

Bruce shrugs. It was a cause for concern, yes, but one that appears to have resolved itself. Bruce will keep an eye on any odd behavior as needed. It’s all very tidy. “I requested a mission report. Tim complied. He knows better than to try to hide things from me. He was already aware of the error of his actions so chastising him felt unnecessary. As far as I’m aware, he’s also told Conner the full truth. I have no reason to disbelieve him. Do you?”

There’s disbelief etched into Clark’s expression.

“And that’s it?” He says. “That type of behavior doesn’t frighten you? At all? You couldn’t possibly understand why I wouldn’t want someone who would do that around him? Someone like—”

“Me?”

“I was going to say, Lex,” Clark deadpans. “But yes. Like you, too.” And maybe that stings worse. Does it? Bruce can’t tell.

“Wow.” Bruce leans back in his chair. “It’s good to know how you feel.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend to misunderstand me, Bruce. I know you know what I mean.”

“I really don’t.” 

“You’re one of my oldest friends. One of my dearest. I know you,” Clark sighs, “I also know how you treat the people you love, Bruce.”

On second thought, a punch to the chest may have been easier. 

“I see,” he says, dangerously quiet. He feels exposed. Flayed open under Clark’s gaze. All of a sudden, he regrets his past honesties, his past disclosures to his friend. To have them weaponized—

“I don’t mean to hurt you, Bruce,” Clark says, recalling him to the conversation, “and I don’t think you mean to hurt anyone either, but sometimes you do. And Tim…that’s unfair. It’s not just him. Dick and Jason—”

This won’t stand. At all. 

“Jason just got married, Clark. He’s in a stable and happy relationship, and I won’t sit here and listen to you disparage him or my other children because they’re too much like me , Clark,” he says darkly. He knows he hasn’t been the best father, but his children are the best of him. Each and every one of them, despite the challenges they’ve all faced. 

Even Tim. In some moments, especially Tim.

“I’m not–I don’t mean to hurt you, Bruce. Never. But you wanted me to be honest. Do you think Tim would get married? Would Dick? Especially if you asked them not to for the sake of the mission? They would choose you. Every time.”

“You overestimate the control I have over my children. I’ll remind you, Jason—”

“Has, by your own admission, never followed orders well. But if you had asked him to turn away from Roy. If you demanded it. You don’t think he would’ve?”

The worst part is, Bruce has no idea. He wants to believe that Jason would always be himself. Stubborn and determined to carve his own path, but a deeper part of him knows how deeply his sons have craved his approval.

“Tim would. I don’t think there’s anything he wouldn’t do for you, and that scares me. When does Conner become a ‘distraction’? A hindrance or a liability ? When does your shared mission come first?”

“It’s like you believe Conner has no agency or choice in this. If you don’t trust Tim, trust him. He’s a smart kid, Clark.”

“Of course, he has agency—”

“Then stop treating him like he doesn’t! You seem to believe that Tim’s this mastermind turning him against you when the reality is Conner’s a person, Clark. With his own mind. He’s done a pretty bang-up job of taking care of himself on his own these last few years. I doubt he’s suddenly lost the ability. You wonder why he pulls away from you but from where I’m standing, it’s as obvious as day.”

Clark does flinch at that and on another day, Bruce would feel bad. Today, he doesn’t feel apologetic at all. 

“And that right there,” Clark says, “that’s what I’m afraid of.”

“That I’d tell you the truth?” Bruce demands incredulously.

“If that’s what you think that was, Bruce, I don’t think we’ll ever agree on this.”

“It’s the truth, Kal. Who knew the man of steel had such thin skin?”

“Do I have thin skin, or do you know where best to cut me? Do I have thin skin, or do you just have no qualms about holding the knife?” Clark says sadly.

Bruce shrugs more, appearing more at ease than he is. “Maybe it’s two things being true at once. Maybe I’m this monster you apparently think I am raising apparently monstrous children, and maybe you’re refusing to take accountability for where you failed. Miserably. Or maybe our children have nothing to do with this at all.”

Clark shakes his head, his eyes appearing dangerously wet.

 “I think I should go,” he says.

“Well, look at that. Something we agree on.” Bruce stands. So does Clark. It feels like the air has shifted. Like something irrevocable has transpired here. Another loss to add to the pile.

Clark just shakes his head.

“Goodbye, Bruce.”

Bruce isn’t sure for how long he means.

Chapter Text

Tim

“ Hey, Bruce told me what happened with Lois at your office. And with Clark. I didn’t want you to walk away thinking that was something I’m okay with or approved of, ” Dick’s voice comes all in a hurry before Tim’s voicemail cuts him off, asking if he wants to save or delete the message.

Huh. How odd!

Tim stares down at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the ‘ 9 ’ while he contemplates what the hell Bruce could’ve told his brother to get that reaction.

“Everything okay?” He hears Jason ask. He must have been staring for too long. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Tim presses save and pockets the device. “You heading out tonight?”

It’s clear Jason doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t comment. “Planned on it. Supposed to meet up with B and the brat later tonight. You still benched?”

“Until the ship is set to rights,” Tim sighs. He’d been annoyed by that too, but it won’t do to have his face all bruised up while there are so many cameras tracking his and Kon’s daily movements. “I’ll be patched in to comms, though if you need me. If Alfred needs me in the cave, I’m sure he’ll call.”

Jason kisses his teeth but holds his tongue. “Okay then. I’m gonna head out. Check in on the Mister and the little one before I hit the streets. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, okay? I mean it.”

Tim snorts a humorless laugh. “Sure, I’ll do my best.”

Jason sighs, but he doesn’t push. 

Tim’s grateful. It should be a simple night.

But then it isn’t.

Tim’s just about to turn in for bed when Alfred calls him.

“What’s wrong?” He demands the moment he answers the phone.

“Nothing, as far as I know, Master Timothy. I do apologize for the late hour, but Master Bruce has only just requested your presence at the manor. If it’s not too much trouble–”

“Of course. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in 20,” Tim says. He’s already up and out of bed looking for his shoes.

“ There’s no rush, Master Tim. The others have not yet arrived home yet. Take your time, ” Alfred assures him.

“Thanks, Alfred. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Tim says his goodbyes, hangs up the phone and tries to calm his racing heart. He checks the clock. It’s only 10. If it’s not urgent, Bruce and the others probably won’t be back for a few hours yet. Still, he knows there’s no way he’s getting any sleep tonight. He debates calling Conner, but no, he’s in the middle of prepping for exams. Tim won’t stress him out more.

He finishes dressing and grabs his keys. It won’t hurt to get to the manor early. That way, he can help Alfred with anything that comes up.

He scrawls a note on the fridge for Conner and grabs his coat. This time of night, there’s little traffic. 20 minutes tops.

--

“I didn’t mean to worry you, Master Timothy. Truly I just wanted to make you aware for later tonight,” Alfred says when Tim pulls into the cave. He finishes parking his bike and pulls his helmet off. 

“It’s okay, Alfred. I figured it made sense to just go ahead and make my way over here. Besides, Conner’s got a study group tonight, so it’s just me. The apartment was getting lonely,” Tim grants him an unworried smile. Alfred takes it at face value.

“Well, we can’t have that. It’s good to have you home, Master Timothy. Even if it’s just for the night.” Alfred gestures for Tim to join him at the bat computer. “I’m sure I’ll benefit from your expertise.”

Tim hasn’t spent much time alone with Alfred in months. Maybe…years? Definitely not since before—

Tim’s really gotta pull himself together. Lately, it’s felt like he’s being pulled apart at the seams, everyone around plucking any threads they can reach before Tim has time to sew himself back up.

He’s careful as he sits down next to Alfred and picks up a night. It’s just one night.

-- 

If Bruce is surprised to hear Tim on comms, he doesn’t show it. It’s a slow night for once, and by the time Tim hears the batmobile tearing into the cave, it doesn’t feel like any time has passed at all. 

“Thought you were staying in tonight, Timbalina?” Jason parks his bike next to Tim’s. Dick and Damian are already climbing out of the batmobile looking no worse for wear. Interesting, Tim thought Dick was going to be spending more time in Bludhaven going forward. Bruce must’ve called him in too.

“Alfred called, and Kon had a study group. Thought I’d come and lend a hand since I had some free time,” Tim says. He tosses Jason a bottle of water. “That, and apparently Bruce wanted to talk?” He chances a glance at Bruce.

He's pulled the cowl down, revealing a tired and resigned expression. 

"Yes, I wanted you all to be present tonight for an announcement. It won't take long. "

"’Won’t take long?’ Sounds like a meeting that could've been an email, B. I have a kid," Jason groans.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. I wanted to talk to all of you as soon as possible and preferably at the same time,” Bruce says tiredly.

Tim glances around the room, taking in the various reactions. Jason and Damian look just as confused as he feels. Dick and Alfred? Not so much. Bruce must’ve already read them in. 

“Of course,” Tim says amicably. He folds his hands in his lap to hide his nervousness. Slow, measured breaths. It can’t be that bad, right?

“There are going to be some changes going forward. Due to recent events, I’ve made the decision to step back from my current position with the Justice League. It’s come to my attention that my energy is needed here in Gotham. Here…with this team,” Bruce says carefully. 

For a moment, no one moves.

“You’re ‘stepping back’?” Tim tries to clarify. “What does that mean exactly?”

Bruce nods like he expected the question. “It means that, at the moment, I find that a relationship between myself and the Justice League doesn’t feel tenable or productive. Nightwing is more than capable of filling in in my stead for the time being. I’ll be covering a portion of his workload in Gotham to offset the change in responsibility. Of course, if a crisis arises, we will, of course, re-evaluate and move accordingly.”

Oh. 

So it can be that bad.

Tim’s about to open his mouth when Bruce’s eyes lock onto him.

“Tim, I will also be relieving you of all JLA-related responsibilities from WE. In the morning, we can go over all of the necessary reports. I’m sure you can catch me up,” he says.

“Uh, sure? I mean, you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, Bruce. Unless there’s an aspect of my performance that you’re unsatisfied with?” Tim says. He feels completely wrongfooted. This…his fault. He knows it. The JLA needs Batman. He’s a founding member, and Tim had to go and open his mouth–

Jason’s eyes flicker from Bruce to Tim and back to Bruce again. 

Bruce lets out an exhausted exhale. “Your work has been more than satisfactory, Tim. Let me be clear because it appears I have not been. Or perhaps it just bears repeating. You are all my children. You are all my responsibility. There is no outsider I would put above each of your best interests and if you ever feel uncomfortable or under threat, please inform me immediately so I can remedy the situation as quickly as possible.”

“Under threat ?” Damian says before Dick can shush him. His little brow is furrowed, confusion written in his expression.

“From anyone . I mean it. All of you are…very…. precious to me. I have no desire to see any of you harmed, even for my sake. Especially for my sake. So please, be upfront with me. That’s all.” Bruce grants them all a stiff nod, and the dismissal is clear.

Jason lets out a low whistle. “Alright, this party is officially too awkward for me. I’m gonna go home and vomit. Have a nice night, all.”

“I-” Tim begins, but he finds he loses his words. What is there to say?

“I’ll be by the office tomorrow, Tim. For now, I’d like to work on reading Dick into what’s been going on on the Watchtower. I’ll see you in the morning?” Bruce says.

“Of course. I’ll…see you then.” Tim stands on legs much steadier than he feels. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Tim!” Dick calls with a wave. He’s already sitting with Bruce in front of the  Batcomputer. Damian isn’t too far away. 

“Come on babybird,” Jason says. “You look like you just swallowed a lemon. Pull it together.” He tosses Tim his helmet before he mounts his own bike. “Text me when you make it home.”

“I will,” Tim promises. The helmet gives him something to do with his hands. He doesn’t know what to think. It’ll be easier when he’s home, he thinks as he throws his leg over the seat of his bike. 

It has to be.

Kon

Kon gets home much later than he planned. By the time he and his study group checked the time, it was well after 10. Luckily the university library stayed open 24 hours during exams. Midterms are coming up and, while he feels confident, the extra studying still feels worth it. The last thing he needs is to see ‘ Conner Luthor failing linear algebra ’ as a headline. He doesn’t want to give Tim another headache to worry about.

“Welcome back, Mr. Luthor,” the doorman says when he sees him. He didn’t use to speak to Kon at all until that article came out. Before then, he was just Tim’s flavor of the week. Now he’s somebody . Who knew being somebody could be such a pain?

“Good to see you too, Curtis,” he says before he boards the elevator. There are three other people in there. They do that thing where they pretend not look to look him up and down, pretend not to take in his beat-up converse and dusty MU hoodie. Kon’s been on the other end of that look enough times to see it for what it is. He fights the urge to shuffle his feet.

“Floor?” One of the women asks.

“Uh, penthouse,” Kon replies awkwardly. 

Her finger hovers over the button. 

“Oh, um…okay,” she says and she presses it. 

The rest of the ride passes in a stifling silence. Kon breathes a little easier with each person who leaves.

When he finally gets to his own front door, he’s ready to kick off his shoes and enjoy what’s left of a nice night in with his boyfriend. 

Except Tim isn’t home. 

There’s a note for him on the fridge. Tim’s working comms for Bruce tonight. Kon’s simultaneously grateful for the note and frustrated that he finds himself alone. 

He eats some leftover Chinese food he finds set aside in the fridge before showering and getting ready to go to bed. He checks the clock. It’s late, but if Tim’s running comms…Kon probably won’t see him until morning. Kon drags his feet to bed and stares up at the ceiling. 

He’s somewhere between sleep and wakefulness when Tim arrives home. He can hear Tim creeping around the bedroom, changing into his pajamas, and slipping into bed next to him. His heart is racing, his breath revealing panic–

“What’s wrong?” Kon asks softly. He rolls over under the comforter so he can face Tim in the dark.

“Nothing. I’m sorry I woke you, Kon,” Tim whispers. The panic is still there, but he can hear Tim employing a breathing exercise. He’s trying to calm himself down.

“Tim. We’ve talked about this. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Tim is quiet for a moment. Kon can hear him gnawing at his bottom lip, his nervousness radiating off of him in waves.

“...Bruce is leaving the JLA. Not permanently, but he left…because of me,” Tim finally admits. He sounds so small. “I feel like I ruined everything,” he says, “Bruce stepping back from the League is…it’s a massive step, right? And he wouldn’t have done it if I never said anything.”

“Tim,” Kon sighs, “Bruce is an adult. And he’s your dad. Of course he’s gonna defend you. Sure it’s a big step, but you’re his son. Why wouldn’t he choose you?”

“You don’t understand! I’m supposed to make Bruce’s life easier, not harder!” Tim whispers furiously. “Cutting him off from the Justice League? I can’t believe...I should never have—”

“I’m confused,” Kon sits up and reaches over to turn on the lamp sitting on his bedside table. It’s set on the dimmest setting, but it’s enough to slightly illuminate their bedroom. Tim blinks rapidly at the change in lighting. 

“I just want to make sure I understand,” Kon says, “we’re upset…that Bruce is choosing to protect you?” Kon swipes his thumb under each of Tim’s eyes. The tears are subtle, but he hates to see Tim cry at all.

“No! I’m upset that Bruce thinks he has to protect me at all . I don’t–I’m not—this isn’t supposed…this isn’t supposed to happen. I’m not supposed to let this happen. It’s all just falling apart, and I can’t do anything about it.” Tim scrubs frustratedly at his face. His cheeks are all red. 

Kon doesn’t know how to help. This feels too big. There are no right words. 

But there is something Kon can do. 

“There’s a lot going on right now,” he says, “and it sounds like it’s really overwhelming. It also doesn’t feel like you’re in a place right now where me telling you ‘it’s gonna be okay,’ is going to be helpful. So what about a hug, and Carelli’s for breakfast tomorrow? Then maybe when can talk through what’s going on in your head.” Kon opens his arms. 

Tim doesn’t hesitate. He huddles into Kon’s embrace and curls himself up small. 

“What if I don’t know what’s going on in my head,” he says.

“Then we figure it out,” Kon hums as he strokes Tim’s hair. “Between the two of us? I’m pretty sure there’s not much we can’t figure out.”