Disclaimer: I do not own either Young Justice or its related characters. Such are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment and Cartoon Network. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.
Yearning
Chapter Three: Sixteen
July rolled around again and this time it would be Tim's sixteenth birthday.
This was it. He was going to do it! Conner was going to confess to his beloved little Robin. Expose his three-year-long crush. Lay his feelings bear. Open up all his fears and misgivings and render himself completely vulnerable and at the mercy of Tim's response.
He was a bit nervous.
The Superboy bought a new shirt. Long sleeved, blue, button-up, collared. He wanted to look nice. Respectable, like. He wanted to look like the kind of person Tim would want to say 'yes' to. New shirt, clean jeans, his best -least scuffed- pair of boots. He spent hours ironing his pants and polishing his combat boots.
Fully clothed, Conner then spent several hours more in the bathroom, staring into the mirror, practicing what he would say. Long, drawn out monologues that explained everything in gratuitous detail, short cliff notes confessions that might confuse more than convey, even the cliche and wordless mashing his lips against Tim's face -well, against the mirror, but the mirror was acting as stand-in for Tim's face.
In the end, the demi-kryptonian had to decided that no matter what plan he went with or how much he rehearsed it, nothing would make him feel ready. It was probably best if he just went there and played it by ear. Besides, if he waited any longer, he would be late! And tardiness made a bad impression.
"An' where're you off to lookin' all spiffy?" Pa asked, a knowing smile on his face.
Conner paused, his hand on the doorknob. He still hadn't told them. After that one dinner conversation last year, he was pretty sure they'd be okay with him dating another man, but still... he should at least give them some warning. As nothing more than a common curtesy. The demi-kryptonian took a step back from the door, turning to face them both. They gazed up at him expectantly and Conner had the sudden and insane notion that maybe they already knew.
That was ridiculous, of course!
"Ma, Pa..." He cleared his throat. "I just want you to know that I'm going to ask Robin -Tim- out on a date. On a date-date, like how I used to date M'gann date. Not like a 'just friends' date. Yes, we're both guys. I hope you're okay with this. If you're not, I respect that and I'll have my things out of the house by the end of the month."
Ma laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement. "Landsakes! Why would we want you to move out!?"
"What's in your head, boy?" Pa asked.
Conner flushed. Of course they wouldn't really mind. Like they said about Clark, they didn't care if he brought home a John or a Jane. Just so long as Clark was happy. He already knew this. There wasn't any reason to think they'd treat him any differently. "But... Sheriff Parker kicked Keith out of the house when he came out."
"Well, we ain't the Parkers." Pa scoffed. "Just remember to be an honorable gentleman. You treat a woman like a person, then a princess, then a goddess, then a person again. You don't treat your man any different. And you ask a girl's Pa for permission before you date her, I expect you to do the same for Tim's Pa."
Oh, shit! That was something he hadn't thought of!
Not asking Jack Drake for permission to date his son, but rather, asking Batman for permission to date his Robin! Crap. Crap. Crap! And he worried about that too. Last year around this same time he had wondered about it. But back then it was a year away and so he'd put it out of his mind. Bad move, apparently. He'd forgotten about it completely.
And Batman kept kryptonite.
Oh, he was so going to die if he confessed to Tim tonight and things went the way he wanted.
...
Batman wasn't at the Team's birthday party for Robin.
The Dark Knight did not make it a regular habit to attend the Team's social functions. And there were so many of them now that there was at least one birthday party each month. If he attended them all, he'd never get any Dark Knighting done in Gotham. So, no spooky doom and gloom mentor lurking about the crowd and throwing a damper on the party.
But that did throw a bit of a wrench into Conner's personal plans.
Damn it all. Damn it all to heck!
And Tim looked so good, too!
Tall and lean. He was almost the same height as Conner now. They were almost on the same eye-level and that was awesome! Lean and muscular. He had filled out nicely. All right angles and sharp lines. A cutting figure in his casual kaki shorts and red polo shirt. Mmm! Those shorts that went down to just below his knees, hiding most of his legs but leaving his firm and well-toned calves exposed. That polo shirt that displayed his muscular forearms. The collar with both buttons undone revealing the hollow of his throat and just a hint of collar bones.
God! Conner just wanted to go over to him and start kissing that collar bone. Starting at the hollow of his throat and working his way up to where the shoulder met the neck. Then up the neck to his earlobe where the demi-kryptonian would pause to nibble. Oh, this was torture!
Couldn't he just confess his feelings now and worry about Batman later?
He could... it would be the sweetest suicide ever.
"You've been pretty quiet all night." Tim commented as he flopped down on the couch next to him. A glass of Martinelli's in one hand, a plate of cake in the other. "You looked like you lost your favorite pair of boots."
"What? No!" Conner did not place Tim on the same level as his boots! Tim was at lest a shirt. Bad joke. Oh, he shouldn't do that, not even in his own head. He was nervous. Like, really nervous. The demi-kryptonian reached out and pulled the plate and glass out of his Robin's hands and placed them on the coffee table. "Listen... there's something I need to tell you. I... I don't know how to say this. I've never really been very good at this sort of thing, but... Tim, I... I didn't get you anything for your birthday."
Damn him! He was such a pussy!
Three years he waited for Tim to grow up to an acceptable age to ask him out and now it was here and he was to chicken-shit to actually go through with it. Pussy. Coward. Conner told himself it was because he was waiting until he could ask Batman for permission. That was it. He was gonna do the honorable thing and ask for his mentor's permission before he asked Tim out. He was being a gentleman. Old school and respectable like.
"Oh." Tim said. "Well, ya know, you didn't have to get me anything. Just your company is enough. Although..."
"Yeah?" Conner asked.
Tim shook his head. "Nothing. Its not fair of me to ask."
And what the hell was that supposed to mean?
...
Conner waited one week to the day after Tim's sixteenth birthday before he zetta'd to Gotham. He didn't want to appear to eager, but he didn't want to wait to long either.
He knew Batman was Bruce Wayne, but he didn't leap across town to Wayne Manor. In fact, he didn't leap at all. No powers. He was not going to use any of his powers while within Gotham city limits. He didn't want to get Tim in trouble again and he didn't want to anger the Dark Knight before he got a chance to ask his permission. He did, however, find a relatively high place above the normal street noise where he could focus his hearing in an effort to locate the Caped Crusader.
The normal noise of the city intensified for a moment as he turned the volume up. Not just the sounds of cars running over the streets, horns honking, tires screeching, people shouting, car alarms, police sirens, ambulance sirens... ah, nightly traffic in Gotham. But there was more than just street noise. Couples quarreling in their homes, neighbors shouting at one another, TVs, radios, babies crying, gun fire, cats hissing, dogs barking, opossums knocking over trash cans, the homeless and displaced conversing with themselves on matters of the cosmos... If he and Tim ever decided to live together, he did not want to settle in Gotham.
Conner sifted out all the other sounds like Clark taught him. The normal ambient noise of Gotham City becoming muted and indistinct and he searched for what he was looking for -an indication of the Batman's location.
There was Tim's heart beat. It was always there, no matter how loud the rest of the world was, no matter what else he sifted out, dampened or muted. Tim's pulse was always strong and present in his ears. It was like a part of himself now. Tim's heart and breathing. But Tim wasn't who he was looking for, not tonight, and he wasn't with who he was looking for either. Tim was alone, responding to what sounded like a home invasion.
The Dark Knight was on the other side of town, either in or near what sounded like a night club. Not the loud, bouncy kind with strobe lights, and heavy base to blow your eardrums out, the kind where speed was passed around like dinner mints, sex in the bathrooms and minors with fake IDs. No. The place where Batman was sounded more like a lounge. Soft but lively music, possibly a cover of a Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra song. It had a very 'Rat Pack' flavor to it, but the Superboy didn't recognize it.
He followed the sound of Batman's pulse and breathing -walking, not leaping. No powers inside Gotham.
Whatever the case was, it was over by the time the Superboy got there. The GCPD was shoving the Penguin inside the back of a squad car and pulling away.
Darn, that mean that Batman was probably already gone.
Conner tweaked his hearing again, to filter through all the noise around him and find the Caped Crusader again. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the man right behind him. The demi-kryptonian wasn't proud, but he was still man enough to admit that he might have squeaked a little bit. Okay, he might have squealed like a little bitch. But you would two if the goddamn Batman suddenly dropped down behind you in a dark ally, cape swooshing and and eyes glaring.
"Took you long enough." Growled Gotham's dark protector. "Zetta feeds alerted me to your arrival over an hour ago. What, did you crawl here?"
Pretty nearly. Walking like a normal, powerless, person was so slow! "I was trying not to use my powers." He said. "Since you don't like metas in your town."
The Batman did not smile. While in costume, that was just one expression his face did not form. Clark sometimes liked to joke that the cowl forced his mouth down into a natural frown. However, at the Superboy's statement, the Caped Crusader's mouth did straiten into a non-emotive line that might have conveyed approval. "You're learning."
"Yes, sir." God! Why did Tim's mentor have to be so freaking scary!? Conner didn't remember Batman being this terrifying back when Dick was Robin.
"Let's not talk here." And with that, his grappling gun was already in his hand and firing towards the rooftops.
Conner watched him propel himself into the sky before arching back down, firing again and swinging away. He lowered his eyes to the fire-escape ladder affixed to one of the buildings that made up the ally in which he stood. Following Batman with no powers and none of those fancy grappling guns of his own. This was gonna be a long night. It was a lot of effort just to ask one question.
Then his comm link buzzed in his ear.
"This is Superboy. Go ahead."
"You have my permission to keep up." Came the Bat's gruff baritone.
Thank you, for small favors! The Superboy was airborne within a moment. Leaping the first building in a single bound, spotting the Batman in the shadows before arching back down, watching him fire another grapple, and then landing. Leaping again, following the course the Caped Crusader set for him. They did not stop moving until they were on a high rooftop that the Dark Knight deemed safe to discuss sensitive matters.
"You didn't go strait for Robin upon your arrival." It was not a question, it was a statement. "You're here to see me. Why?"
"I, uh, I have a question for you."
"I have no idea what to get Superman for his birthday either." Said the Batman without pause. "I usually give him cash."
"What?" Conner blinked at the older man in confusion.
"The only things that you and I have in common are the Team and Superman." The World's Greatest Detective elaborated. "Any Team business you have can be discussed over the comm. You would not need to make a trip all the way here for that. However, all comm calls are recorded and saved to an archive on Watchtower's mainframe. Superman has access to these files, so if there was something you wanted to discuss without him knowing, it would have to be done in person. Hence the reason for your visit. The birthday thing was just a shot in the dark."
Superboy just stared at him. "Our comm calls are recorded?"
Note to Self: No phone sex over the JLA comms. Ever!
This must be a new thing they just started. It couldn't have always been in affect. Not back when he was dating M'gann. If it was, then the whole League would have heard... Oh, dear lord!
"Why are you here, Superboy?" Asked the Dark Knight.
"You forgot about Tim." Answered the demi-kryptonian. "We only have three things in common, the Team, Superman, and Tim. I, uh... I was wondering... Ya see, Pa taught me how to be a country gentleman. The thing with country gentleman with that, uh... Its the right and honorable thing for a man to announce his intentions to a girl's father before... uh..."
Batman frowned. Conner wasn't making any sense. None of that had anything to do with Robin.
"What I mean is... Tim! I want Tim. I mean! I want to date Tim. I don't want him, like, want to own him. No. He's a person, not property. But, Pa says I gotta ask permission, like asking a girl's father. Except you're a lot scarier- uh, a bigger influence in his life than Mr. Drake is and, um... I don't want to take him away from the Mission or anything. I just... like him. A lot."
The Dark Knight was silent a long while. Processing this information.
The silence dragged on so long, Conner began to fear he might have broken the Caped Crusader.
Then, "Interesting..." Muttered the Batman, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You had a very long heterosexual relationship with Miss Martian before and now you're expression homosexual interest in Robin. But then, considering both you and Miss Martian's alien heritage, your relationship could also be classified as 'pansexual'. Interesting."
"Um, excuse me?" Okay, granted, he had been the one to open this up by asking his permission to date Tim. But it was just a little creepy that Batman was giving such deep thought to his sexual orientation. And by 'just a little' Conner mean 'a butt-fuck lot'! Whatever the reason for the Dark Knight's musings, the demi-kryptonian decided that he did not want to know. "Anyway, about Tim."
"Robin is his own person." The Caped Crusader informed him. "Its not business of mine what company he chooses to keep outside of uniform."
Conner was so elated he could have flown!
"But," continued Gotham's dark avenger, "if you -in any way, shape, or form- hurt that boy, I swear on my parents graves, I will make you the exception to The Rule. Do we understand each other?"
The Superboy swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yes, sir."
...
Two things happened one evening in quick succession of each other.
First, Tim's heart beat spiked with anxiety. Conner did not rush to his side because Batman did not like metas in his town. But he did call Dick. The Nightwing said very little and tried to kicked the Superboy off the phone. Finally just hanging up and ignoring his two other calls.
Then the Team was called in for a mission.
Conner was the first to arrive. He watched the zetta transporters like a starved wolf watches a heard of deer. Noting each member of the Team as they arrived and waiting for Tim to turn up. But the Boy Wonder never came. Nightwing started the briefing. Superboy payed only half attention. Something about leading the Beta Squad. Flanking maneuver. Or some such.
The moment the mission briefing was over, before everyone boarded their various choices of transport and were deployed, Conner pulled Dick to the side and hissed in his ear, "Where is Tim? I felt his pulse spike earlier. Is he okay? Does this mission have anything to do with him? What didn't you tell the rest of the Team?"
Because, he had learned from experience that Nightwing often held back critical information about friends and Teammates in dangerous situations.
"Tim is fine." Dick assured him. "No, this mission has nothing to do with him. He's not here because there was- something else he had to take care of. A family problem. Not any of the Team's business."
Not a bat-family problem because then Nightwing wouldn't be here either. The job of briefing and deploying the Team would have been delegated to him, Wally, or M'gann -the three other veterans. So, if it wasn't a bat-clan issue Tim was dealing with, that meant it was a real family issue -his civilian family. Jack Drake and Dana Winters.
...
Conner didn't see Tim for several weeks after that.
In fact, no one outside of Gotham saw Robin for several weeks after that.
He knew Tim was still alive. He could still hear his heart beat. That sad, mournful, rhythm. Something had happened. Something big! But no one would tell him what it was. No one in the bat-clan talked. That was nothing new. But Clark -whom seemed to know- wasn't sharing anything either.
Finally, the Superboy decided to take matters into his own hands. He zetta'd to Gotham and, not giving a rat's ass if he pissed off the Dark Knight or not, leapt all the way to the Drakes' apartment. But the place was empty. Well, not 'empty'. It was full of moving boxes. Some of the furniture was gone, other pieces were wrapped in movers blankets and tape. But there were no people there. He tried Tim's school, but couldn't find him on the campus and since he wasn't exactly on Tim's contact list, the office turned him away almost immediately.
Not at home. Not at school. That left the Batcave.
He was almost at the edge of the Wayne family property when he began to feel it. A slight burning on his skin, a weakening of his limbs, shortness of breath, light-headedness -kryptonite. When the Superboy came down from his jump he hit the ground hard, making a large crater. He hadn't made a crater in years. His knees buckled under him and Conner quickly found himself with a face full of dirt. A dark figure looming over him.
"Go home." Said the Bamtman.
"Not- ugh -not until I know Tim's- Tim's okay!" He managed to groan out, each word taking more effort to form than it should have.
"Tim is... coping." Said Bruce. "Right now he wants his space. Now is not the time for your romantic overtures."
"I'm not- ugn -Could you- -put that- that away? Please!"
The green glow in Batman's hand disappeared inside a small leaded box and the effects seemed to vanish almost immediately. Conner sat up, but he did not try to stand. He glared up at the Dark Knight.
"I'm not here to try and woo Tim!" He said. "I wanna know what's going on! What happened? It looks like they're moving from their place. He's not in school. What are you hiding?"
"It was his request not to bother you with it." Bruce said.
"But why!?" Conner insisted. "We're best friends! He know's I'd do anything for him. I- I'm-"
"Perhaps, you two are not as close as you originally thought."
That hurt. That really, really hurt.
"Go home, Conner. Tim will talk to you when he's ready. Everybody deals with grief in their own way. The best thing you can do for him is give him time."
Grief?
...
Not long after that, Conner was leafing through a copy of the Daily Planet and saw that billionaire Bruce Wayne had adopted another orphan boy.
Timothy Jackson Drake. Now Timothy Drake-Wayne.
It wasn't even ten seconds after reading that article that Conner found himself in a zetta tube on his way to Gotham. That was it. Tim's parents had died. Or his father had died and his step-mother was MIA. Either way, Tim was alone. Why didn't he want Batman to tell him? Conner wanted his Robin to be able to confide in him.
The Superboy followed the sound of his bird's grieving heart to a cemetery.
Tim had flowers in his hands. Standing in front of two identical headstones. 'Jackson Drake 1976-2018, Loving Husband and Father' and 'Janet Drake 1978-2012, Beloved Wife and Mother'. But no 'Dana Winters-Drake' anywhere. So then, she was MIA (either that, or Tim just hadn't buried her near his parents). But that wasn't what mattered at the moment. What was important was Tim. Conner watched as he knelt down to place a fresh bouquet of flowers on his father's grave, before reaching an arm up to wipe his sleeve across his eyes.
Was Tim crying?
Oh my god! Conner had never seen Tim cry before!
Without eve making the conscious decision to, the demi-kryptonian found himself suddenly out of his hiding place and wrapping his arms around his Robin's lithe but muscular frame.
... And Tim leaned into the embrace.
"What are you doing here, Kon?" He muttered into the Superboy's arm.
"I heard about your folks." Answered Conner honestly. "I wanted to be here for you."
The question of 'Why didn't you tell me?' was on the tip of his tongue, but the Superboy didn't ask it. That wasn't what Tim needed to hear right now. Besides, like Batman said, everyone deals with grief differently. Tim could deal with this whatever way he needed. Conner understood that it was traumatic to louse a parent. He didn't really have parents, so he would never have to experience it for himself, but he still understood that it was traumatic for normal people. The most he could do was just be here for Tim and that was exactly what he intended to do.
"Tell me what you need." Muttered the Superboy into his Robin's dark mop of hair. "Anything you need, I'll do it for you."
"Anything...?" Tim looked at him skeptically. They were almost at the same eye-level. Cobalt blue eyes meeting crystal blue. Tim had the most beautiful eyes.
"Anything." Conner assured him. He would do anything for his Robin.
"Conner, what I've always wanted from you..." He paused, looked down at his feet. The seconds ticked by as he thought. Then, finally, "No... Its not appropriate for me to ask. You're only eight years old. Thank you, but... I don't want anything from you."
Conner did a double take. He was only eight years old. Well, yes. That was true. But that was stopping Tim from asking him for something? What could he possibly want from the demi-kryptonian that he couldn't give because he was only eight years old? Gingerly, Conner cupped the other man's face in his hands and tilted his head back up, forcing the Robin to look at him.
"Tim..." He said. "That's just a number. As far as the state is concerned, Conner Kent is twenty-four. The was I look, you'd think I was still sixteen. Just forget about my age. What do you want? I promise, nothing you ask for will change the way I think about you."
"Conner..." God! His eyes were so blue! "I... I want... I want to wait until you're eighteen. I'll tell you when you're eighteen. When you're eighteen, I'll be twenty-four. It should be alright then."
Oh god! All this time... Was Tim struggling with the same dilemma he had been?
"You feather-brained idiot."
...
A few weeks after that, Superboy died.
...
