A/N: Just a short little thing I couldn't get out of my head a few weeks ago when I was going through a rough patch in my life. Anyway hope you enjoy these two being cute friends as much as I do.

Warnings: Mentions of Self-Harm, character death, trauma and depression

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, no matter how much I want to wrap them in blankets and keep them safe forever. They belong to DC Comics and are forever at their tiny sliver of mercy.

"How bad was it tonight?" Conner asked after a long stretch of silence, watching his best friend out of the corner of his eye.

Tim had started to kick his legs out over the rooftop, looking remarkably like a little kid who didn't want to tell his parents the truth. A wave of sympathy for Batman rolled through him- he had thought that circumstances had squashed out all of Tim's rebellious spirit. Looks like there was some still there.

"You may be able to lie to Batman but please don't lie to me."

Tim let out a quiet sigh as he tilted his head back and gazed up into the endless abyss of smog and cloud. Briefly he wished he was in Smallville on the Kent family farm, sitting with Connor on the barn roof and coming up with alternative stories for the constellations. It would certainly be a more light-hearted conversation than what this was turning out to be.

"…two new ones…" He whispered at last, avoiding his best friend's gaze at all costs. It still irked him that Connor knew about this- knew about this part of himself that he'd much rather keep hidden from the whole world. Keeping it hidden kept it secret; secrets meant safety.

But with Connor he was more exposed than with any one else (expect maybe Dick and Bart) yet he was also the safest he could ever hope to be. They always had each other's backs, since the very beginning. And logically, Tim knew there was no way Conner would turn his back on him now. But that didn't stop the fear from surfacing; the fear that one day his best friend would leave again and no amount of miracles would ever bring him back.

"Tim?"

An expectant hand was held out to him and Tim felt a little more defeated than he had two minutes ago, a tiny chip of despair adding to the already crushing pressure on his shoulders. Letting lose another sigh, Tim settled his wrist in his friend's gentle grasp, not all that surprised when, instead of rolling back the sleeve to inspect the damage he already knew was there, Connor simple traced along the raised scars that he could feel through the thin cotton of Tim's shirt. Just simple, soft tracing, taking care with his super strength so that he wouldn't hurt his friend any more.

Sometimes Tim couldn't help but marvel at how gentle Superboy was capable of being.

He had known it ever since they had formed Young Justice, had known it since the first time Connor had opened up to him, but it still took him by surprise in moments such as these.

"…why do you do it?" He found himself asking, looking down at their hands so as to avoid the curious blue eyes.

"Pretty sure I'm supposed to be asking you that Tim."

"But you never do. You never did. And I never tell." Tim muttered before forcing himself to look into that sky blue gaze. "So why do you still stick around? You've seen, more than anyone else, the mess I've become. You know I'm not the same Con, yet you still stay-"

"Of course I still stay." Connor cut across him, frowning when he felt the trembling start in the wrist he still held and he took an effort into lowering his voice back to a normal volume.

"Tim you're my best friend. You were there for me through everything- every problem I had with Kal, the whole fiasco with Cadmus, hell even the nightmare that was Lex Luthor- you stuck with me through it all and helped. If being by your side, proving to you I'm alive, and never asking questions when I really want the answers is going to help you then I will do it in a heartbeat."

Connor smiled softly and ruffled his Robin's hair- so much longer than the last time he'd seen him, so much time missed, so much to catch up on- before pulling him over in a one armed hug. At first it had scared him how much Tim had changed, how much darker he'd become. But then he realised that underneath all that, Tim was still Tim; devious, sneaky dork extraordinaire. And his best friend- who desperately needing something solid in the sea of lies and betrayal he had been drowning in.

"I'm here for you Tim. So just let it all out."

He felt the tears start before he saw them. The tremors started up again until Tim's shoulders and sides were shaking. Yet he made no noise. Conner knew how noisy crying usually was- how much it grated on his ears and pulled at his conscience- however seeing the tears pour down his best friend's cheeks, feeling the way his arms collapsed under him as he clung desperately to Connor shirt, and not hearing anything but the acceleration in his heart beat and breathing… That's what broke his heart.

Tim was so used to suffering in silence that he didn't know any other way to do it. He didn't sob, he didn't choke on his own breath, he didn't even collapse into broken laughter like Dick sometimes did when everything went to hell. No, he just curled up against Connor's chest and soaked his shirt in silent tears.

"It'll be okay again soon Tim," he whispered as he rubbed soothing circles into his best friend's quaking shoulders. "I don't know when, but it will be okay again. The world will start making sense and everything will stop being so goddamn hard. You'll be able to take it easy for once."

A watery chuckle bubbled up in response to his joke and Tim pulled away to scrub at his eyes, sniffling loudly to stop the snot from running down his face. Another reason why he didn't like crying; not only did it hurt his eyes and head but it was also disgustingly messy.

"That would be nice."

They let the silence settle around them, resuming their perusal of the empty sky as if they could see the stars hidden in the darkness. Tim leaned into Connor's chest and the broader teen let him, knowing that his smaller companion was seeking out the comforting rhythm of his beating heart. After so long of it being silenced, it didn't come as a surprise to him that Tim now needed to hear his heart to reassure himself that he wasn't in another twisted nightmare.

The first time Tim had come to Connor and opened up about his dreams, the Kryptonian had barely managed to sit through it all. His best friend had a haunting imagination at the best of times and combining it with the anguished memories that tormented him during the waking hours could only lead to the torturous nightmares that sleep brought with it. Connor knew why Tim avoided sleep like the plague and couldn't blame him for it- even if it wasn't healthy and the bags under Tim's eyes got deeper every day- but he wished Tim was able to sleep. Or at least, that their teammates would stop pestering him about it. He couldn't count the number of people who had told Tim to take a nap in the past week alone.

Sleep was dangerous now. It wasn't as blissful for Tim as it was for other people.

Nightmares lingered.

They cloaked his brain and settled on his shoulders, shrouding him in a twisting cloud of tortured screams and glittering blood. They followed in his footsteps no matter where he went, as part of Tim's reality as his very own shadow. They drove the blade that sliced scarlet ribbons onto his too pale skin, taunted him as they danced around boxes of pills, entwined together to create the noose that strangled him on a daily basis.

Every day the nightmares would try and kill him and sometimes, like this week, they very nearly did.

But Tim was stronger than them. He was strong enough to be Robin, strong enough to watch over Gotham, strong enough to bring Batman back from the 'dead'. And even stronger for making himself live on when his mind was screaming at him to die.

He had to be strong. Not only was he part of a family who had seen too much death already, but he was also Connor's best and dearest friend. He didn't know what he'd do with himself if Tim died, and he couldn't even begin to imagine how awful it had been for Tim without his right hand man watching his back.

His heart stuttered and the air suddenly got too heavy whenever he tried to imagine it, his lungs turning to lead as he choked on his breath. A world without his best friend wasn't a world he was remotely interested in.

It was like a world without a sun.

"Thanks Con." Tim whispered after a long silence. They had shifted into a more comfortable position, with Conner's arm around Tim's shoulders as he snuggled into his side. Both of them had remained perched on the edge of the roof, looking out into the dark dreamscape of Gotham City.

"You don't need to thank me Tim," Conner smiled, squeezing the warm body beside him ever so lightly, not willing to ever hurt him. "I'll always be here when you need someone to pick you up."

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed it despite how short it is :)

~Sam