#bruce you sad wet gay pathetic little thing

[clownprince]

W-WAIT HOLD ON A MINUTE WAI

[singledadkuroo]

It's...completely weird, being alive. It's weird to return to a life stood still (for him, anyway) when everyone else has moved on to some new phase in their lives without him.

He can't remember his e-mail password. He's missed, like, so many national and international events that he has hours upon hours of CNN footage to catch up on. There are actual honest to god statues of him in several major cities and people he's never met celebrating his return like it's a divine event of some crap.

And he hasn't even seen Tim yet. Today, today, but it was such a frustrating several days that he almost snapped at Ma Kent, of all people. A woman who's never done anything wrong, ever, and took his pain in the ass in no questions asked.

He asked so many people how Tim was doing, even checked vigilante fan boards to try and get an inkling of Robin's status, but the answers were always dubious. A shrug. A change of subject. An outright lie. All he knows so far is that he's had a few change of outfits and has somehow acquired a shitty little brother who runs around in the old colors.

Stately Wayne Manor. Definitely not in his top ten places to hang, even with Batman's actual permission to be here. It still feels like he's going to be personally ejected by merely existing, or being too slutty like that one time; Batman, for his part, is being ridiculously nicer than he's been historically. It's probably a pity thing. Why couldn't he just meet Tim...anywhere else? Antarctica, maybe.

He raps a few times on the ostentatious as FUCK door knocker thingie. It isn't Alfred who answers.

The first thing he notices when he smushes Tim against him is that he's lost weight. He feels very delicate in just jeans and a t-shirt, all little instances of baby fat gone, even if Kon knows he's basically all muscle and probably more capable of kicking ass now. The second thing he notices is that his hair is different, longer and softer when he cards his fingers through. The third thing he notices is that he smells weird. Not bad at all, just weird. Familiar and new at the same time.

Tim allows the embrace for a few moments before it's clear he wants to escape. Kon is a little hurt by this because they used to be glued together for hours, willingly and happily. See? This is why it's weird being alive. Everything's different and he himself has not changed.

"Kon," Tim says softly, politely, once he's free, "it's good to see you."

Good to see you? Like they're old high school acquaintances catching up at Applebee's. He used to fucking hate when Tim acted like this, and now it seems to just be his thing all the time. Thanks, Bruce!

Tim was in love with him, right? Kon didn't imagine that? Kissing him and tasting his sigh when he touched him and saying 'I love you'? Gay, sappy moments that actually replayed in Kon's conscious when he was in stasis or whatever the hell that was? No? Not imagined? Okay.

"Can I come in, Timbird?" It's a little gruff, he'll admit.

Tim is an idiot because he turns his head nervously to look back in the house and doesn't try to hide how nervous he is, which is of course weird and suspicious as hell. Is he hiding a new boyfriend in there or something?

"I don't think--"

"Oh, just let him in," the little kid, the shitty one, comes out of nowhere, "he's going to find out, anyway."

Tim looks like he actually wants to murder the brat. Kon's heart is like a lead weight in his chest as he steps past the threshold, ready to be introduced to Tim's handsome and cool new beau that totally replaced him.

No one's there. Tim isn't looking at him, though, and the look on his face is ugly and scared. Pale, drawn, like a sleepless night times a hundred.

"Keanu?" Damian calls, not particularly loud.

Kon's eyes are only half as fast as Clark's on a good day. He has to really focus to register the flying toddler that zooms in from out of nowhere and burrows into Tim so forcefully he's almost knocked off his feet.

The child makes grabby hands at Tim's face, little butt supported by Tim's arm. He's olive toned, curly dark hair, big smile. Your average two year old, except he can fly like a speeding bullet and almost knock people three times his size over.

What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On?

The kid has a hand on Tim's cheek, turns and reaches out to Kon with his free hand. He recognizes those sea blue eyes, has seen enough baby pictures of Clark for the considerable resemblance to send a chill down his spine.

So this is why Tim's acting so squirrelly. This is why everyone and their mother hasn't been able to look him in the eyes when he's asked after him. This is despicable. This is heartbreaking.

"Is that supposed to be me?"

Tim winces, shifts the baby to his hip in such a natural movement it's clearly second nature to him. So how long did he wait after Kon died before he decided to do this, huh? Like a fucking week?

"Kon--"

"Save it, Drake." It comes out sharp, makes the baby recoil with wide eyes. "Why did you do this? How did you do this?"

"I--Cadmus." Tim is using that robot voice Kon hates, clinical and emotionless. "I begged them to help me. I needed...something that reminded me of you."

"So he's a thing to you."

"No!" Ah, there he is. "I love Keanu."

Yeah, course you do. "Does Clark know?"

"Yes."

"And Lex? He hasn't come for his bouncing baby boy?"

Tim's head bows into the baby's, Keanu's, hair. His face screws into an expression Kon has never seen on him before--but isn't he learning all kinds of things about Tim today? Like that he's more selfish and pathetic than Kon could ever fathom?

Ten minutes ago, he thought he was reuniting with a boy he would love forever, a boy he barely remembered what it was like to not love. It's been a real emotional whirlwind, that's for sure.

"He's not Luthor's."

Kon has met Superman clones before, the ones without human DNA to stabilize their growth--they're sad, scared, falling apart like wet paper. This kid? Picture of fucking health. Beautiful.

"Really? Then who--"

"Me. He's mine."

Wow. Alrighty then. Wow. Tim really went and made their kid. Kon would be lying if he claimed that's something he never thought about, but it was never like this. In his mind, they were married. They were excited. And? There were no labs or test tubes involved whatsoever.

"Gotcha. Fuck you, Tim."

Damian, silent until this point, snorts and makes a show of leaving the room. Tim is white as a sheet, unmoving except for the thumb rubbing the baby's back. He's clearly not surprised by Kon's response, which almost makes this even worse; it means he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this would be the last legacy Kon would ever choose for himself.

They're not done. He has plenty more to say, but he really can't tonight. Can you blame him for, uh, not being prepared even remotely for this fucking bullshit?