C'mon Tim, you can do this. Just get a hold of yourself. The more you put this off, the more painful it will be.

Tim nervously checked the clock in Mount Justice's kitchen. The current time was 6:23 EST. He decided to wait until 6:30, because he always felt more comfortable doing things at "even" times. "Even" to him usually meant some number divisible by thirty. Using simplistic numbers helped him relax in periods of high stress, and he had rarely been more stressed than this. The level of panic he was currently experiencing was slightly over the level he had felt when Killer Croc almost drowned him in the Gotham Sewers, or when Hush held him at knifepoint in from of Batman. He would still rather go through any of those situations again than face this.

When the time finally came, Tim took in a deep breath and walked into the main room.

"Hey Nightwing" he asked, trying to sound as normal as he could. "Could I talk to you about something?"

"It'll have to wait. I'm overseeing a beta squad mission right now. I should be free in about eight minutes."

Tim did not wait eight minutes. He waited for thirty, so that it would be an "even" time again. He mustered up his courage again and walked out of his room and approached Nightwing, who was sitting on the couch and watching Celebrity Hockey.

"W-We were going to talk, remember?" stammered Tim.

Nightwing looked up. "Oh yeah, that's right. The mission's over, by the way. Total success."

"Glad to hear it." A smile briefly appeared on Tim's face and then faded away. "Would you mind talking somewhere a bit more private?"

Nightwing could tell that Tim was very nervous, his mask failing to hide the panic in his eyes. "Sure" he said, trying to ignore the awkwardness. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Not really. Could you just come to my room?"

####

"Alright Tim, what exactly is this about?"

Tim looked up at Dick's face. His gorgeous, perfect face. Sometimes he would get lost in it, leading Dick to believe Tim had minor attention problems, which he had unsuccessfully tried to train him to resist.

God, this really isn't fair. He shouldn't be this pretty. What the hell is wrong with me?

Tim's eyes began to water. "There isn't an easy way to say this, Dick. I'm attracted to you. Very attracted. I can't stop thinking about you. I think it may be affecting my performance on the Team."

Dick sat down for a moment, lost in thought. Tim desperately tried to gauge his reaction. He was unable to make even the slightest guess at the older hero's emotion. Shock, confusion, and disgust could often be very difficult to tell apart.

Finally Dick stood up and said, "Alright, Tim. It's alright. Everything is going to be okay. Honestly, I can't say I'm surprised." He allowed himself a brief chuckle. "I understand that you can't control how you feel, and coming straight to me about it was very, very brave."

Dick sighed deeply and put his hand on Tim's shoulder.

"You have to understand something, Tim. We can't be in a relationship together. We just can't."

At this point Tim utterly failed to resist the urge to cry.

"There, there, Timmy" Dick said softly, pulling him in close to his chest. Tim rested his head against the pads of Dicks armor and sobbed into the Kevlar.

"This doesn't mean I don't like you, or admire, or care about our friendship, Tim. I'm a bit too old for you. And I just don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry."

Tim couldn't look Dick in the eye, so he kept his head in Dick's chest. "I kn-know..." he mumbled. "B-b-believe me, I understand. I just don't know what to..."

The boy choked and tears flooded down his cheeks.

"You'll find someone else, Timothy. Just you wait and see." Dick hugged Tim tightly, and just held on for a few minutes.

####

"You okay, ese?" asked Jaime.

I really wish he would just leave me alone.

"I'm fine. Whatever gave you the idea that I wasn't?"

"You've been lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling for like, half an hour. I think this is the first time I have seen you doing something other than training or frantically typing on your computer."

He sat down next to Tim. "So yeah, you're either depressed or on some sort of drug trip."

Tim sighed. Why is it that people are most intent on bothering you when you most want to be alone?

"It's personal."

"Does it have something to do with that hologram of the other Robin you always stare at in the grotto?"

"No, but that's not helping." Tim sighed. I wonder if Jason ever had to deal with this. Tim doubted it. By all accounts Jason was too irritable to pursue any sort of romantic interaction.

Jaime looked over his shoulder and muttered under his breath something along the lines of "No, I will not 'shake him until he comes to his senses.' Dios mio."

"You, mi amigo, strike me as someone who needs to get out for a bit. Do you know if there are any missions available?"

Tim got up and grumbled. "There is a stakeout available. The Scarecrow is expected to attempt to poison the Gotham City reservoir tonight."

"That sounds great! C'mon, let's go do it!"

####

"So what do you know about this guy?"

Tim leaned back against the wall. They were waiting on top of an office building across from the reservoir. "Professor Jonathan Crane is a psychiatrist-turned-psychopath. He used to run Arkham Asylum, and performed some questionable experiments on the patients. Now he exposes people to a hallucinogenic gas and measures their reaction. He doesn't get along well with his underlings, which is why we're here. One of them talked when he realized Crane was going to poison the whole city."

Jaime sat next to Tim and said, "Well, he isn't here yet. Now do you want to talk about your problems, or are we just gonna stare at the reservoir all night?"

I suppose there's no way I was getting out of this.

"Fine. If you must know, I had a little discussion with Nightwing. It didn't go very well."

"What were you talking about?" asked Jaime as he took a bite out of a protein bar.

"A little while ago I developed... romantic feelings for him."

Jaime choked on his bar for a second. "Is that why you seemed so zoned out in the training sessions with him?"

Tim winced. "Oh God. You noticed?"

"Yeah, but I didn't piece it together until just now. I assume he didn't return your feelings."

Tim growled, "No. No he did not. I don't know what I was expecting. He's a bit old for me. Besides, he has plenty of people to choose from: Batgirl, Zatanna, Rocket, Bette..."

Jaime whistled. "Guy sure gets around, huh?"

"You don't know the half of it, Jaime. What would he need with a gay, neurotic, scrawny little teen sidekick when he has all the girls swooning over him? I just wish I could stop thinking about him."

"I know how you feel."

Tim cocked an eyebrow. "Somehow I really, really, doubt that."

"Well, maybe not exactly. You know I've had a bit of a crush on Wonder Girl, right?"

Tim didn't actually remember Jaime mentioning this, but he nodded anyway.

"Well, two weeks ago, I asked her out. She said she wasn't really looking for a relationship, which I can respect. Still disappointing, though. I mean, we're still friends, but I always feel awkward around her. Imagine what it must be like for Superboy."

Tim shrugged. "Well, you know what they say, plenty of fish in the sea and all that. Unfortunately, people in our line of work are in more of a small lake, but whatever."

Tim heard a van park across the street. A group of six men in hazardous material suits stepped out, each carrying several metal canisters. They were followed by a man wielding a scythe. A mask made of a burlap sack covered his head, and he was wearing a tattered straight jacket.

Scarecrow turned to his men and said, "Let's make this fast. Murphy didn't show up, and there's a good chance Gordon or the Bat knows about our little experiment."

Robin put on a gas mask from his utility belt, and a blue and black suit of armor materialized around Jaime. The two young heroes leapt off the roof and down onto the street below. Two of Scarecrow's men pulled out assault rifles. Blue Beetle fired a sonic pulse at the two, knocking them right onto their backs. One goon swung an aluminum baseball bat at Robin. The Boy Wonder parried the strike with his Bo staff. He pressed a button, and blue streaks of lightning coursed along the staff and into the bat. The man was convulsed with shock and collapsed onto the ground.

Scarecrow said, "Well, it looks like the rumors are true. The heroes are using teenagers to do their dirty work. And to think I believed Joker just hallucinated the whole thing. How troubling."

He readied his scythe to strike. "Individuals of your age aren't developed enough to handle the trauma people like me inflict."

He lunged at Robin, swinging his scythe wildly. Robin knocked it out of his hands and across the street. He heard muffled laughter come from under the madman's mask. Metal claws as long as steak knives sprung out from the tips of the fingers of his gloves. Scarecrow slashed up, grazing Robin's neck. Robin wiped the scratches, and realized that his gas mask had ripped.

Scarecrow began laughing maniacally as he balled on hand into a fist. He pressed a metal switch on his wrist and his gauntlet released a puff of red gas. Robin tried to hold his breath, but he was already too late. He collapsed onto the floor as the Fear Toxin took effect.

To Be Continued