A/N - To refresh your memory about the timeline, Steph died on Sunday night.
Bruce calls Tim Monday afternoon and then Tim and Conner find out they're soulmates, ending with Tim sleeping over at Conner's; Crystal's drama in Ch. 13 also happens all throughout Monday, and Cass confronts Bruce Monday night and then meets Jason.
On Tuesday Bruce calls Dick about Steph's death and then Dick calls Jason, who drags Slade into the phone call. Tim and Kon's interview took place on Tuesday morning and Slade and Dick meet Jason and Cass on Tuesday afternoon.
Lex et al pick Crystal up for the funeral viewing late Tuesday afternoon. This chapter takes place Tuesday evening, directly following Ch. 16.
"Bruce! I didn't expect to see you here tonight," Commissioner Gordon breathed out in a tone full of awed empathy. His hug broke the mutually stricken eye contact between Batman and his former-Robin as Bruce's face got buried in his shoulder.
Tim couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. He wanted to run - he wanted to hit Bruce even harder than he'd hit his dad - he wanted to hug him and draw false comfort from pretending that Batman wasn't somehow responsible for Steph lying twenty feet away in a coffin.
"Do you need to go?" Conner whispered in his ear as he wrapped his arm protectively around his waist. Tim must have looked really awful, because Conner didn't know -
"Damn good of you to come, Brucie," Lex rumbled in his deep bass, pulling his fellow billionaire into another hug as soon as Commissioner Gordon let him go. "I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you."
No, he really couldn't, Tim thought to himself with sarcastic snark. Not that Bruce had any right - no right! - to sympathy, when he'd fired Steph and let her die.
"I had to show my support for a grieving parent," Bruce rasped, sounding absolutely wrecked as he gratefully accepted Lex's hug. On a good day he'd be as phony as Jack Drake around Lex. It was awfully unsettling to see B slumping into Lex's arms like a genuinely lost puppy.
Tim couldn't keep his eyes from bouncing right back to Bruce's face once he was free of Lex's embrace. Bruce met his gaze with haunted eyes that immediately started bleeding tears.
"Tim -" Bruce choked out. "I'm so sorry - so sorry -" he gulped and then Batman, Bruce Wayne, was full-on sobbing, in public, in front of Lex Luthor and Oracle and Commissioner Gordon and a room full of strangers.
Sobbing like Tim deserved to be, but wasn't, because his mother had raised him to behave properly in public spaces, thank you very much, no matter how internally distressed he might be! But here was Bruce, with absolutely no regard for propriety - or for Mrs. Brown, whose dismayed gaze strayed across the room to the billionaire's heaving shoulders that she no doubt felt that she, too, had more of a right to. She was hanging onto her dignity in front of her friends, though, instead of loudly wailing. God, why had Bruce come!?
Tim didn't realize that he'd sunk down to the floor until Conner was crouched protectively around him, cradling his face in black fishnet-covered hands and wiping hot, silent tears off his cheeks with his thumbs.
"We can go sit in the limo," Conner offered in a low voice.
Tim couldn't get his mouth to form words around the muted whimpers that he was softly keening as unobtrusively as possible, so he nodded instead. Because that was what one did when overcome in a social situation! One gracefully exited the room and released one's volcano of emotion in private! Even Conner knew that! What the hell was wrong with Bruce, making everything about him?!
"Come on, Timmy," Conner said gently as he stood and easily pulled Tim upright. Tim sniffed and glued himself to his soulmate's side. Bruce, he saw (and more obnoxiously, heard), was still sobbing away, completely overcome by grief as the Commissioner and Lex attempted to comfort him, while Babs watched with pursed lips.
She caught Tim's eye and sighed. Great minds… Tim thought with a grimace. Conner turned to Babs.
"Could you tell my dad we went out to the limo, Professor Gordon?" he asked her politely. Huh. He'd even remembered her preferred title in the midst of Tim's (subdued, masterfully managed, barely noticeable) breakdown. That was very thoughtful of Conner, Tim noted with appreciation. He was so similar to Lex, in his caring attentiveness towards people - although Lex had been uncharacteristically rude to Babs earlier, hadn't he?
Which - eep. Not the problem of the moment. Tim filed a potential Oracle-Lex Luthor brawl under "Future Catastrophes With In-Laws" and tuned back in to Babs and Conner's conversation.
"Sure, Conner," Babs was kindly replying. "Tim's lucky to have you," she added with a soft smile for Tim that released some of the anxious knots in his stomach about what she might be thinking about his Son-of-a-Super-Villain Soulmate.
"I'm lucky to have him," Conner replied sincerely enough, but his mouth stayed in a grim line as he glanced one last time at the bawling Bruce and narrowed his kohl-rimmed eyes the slightest bit.
See! Manners! The whole world except for Bruce knew what constituted acceptable public mourning behavior. Conner was obviously equally disgusted by the uninvited billionaire's garish display of (technically merited, but reprehensibly timed) grief. Bruce had no right at all to be slopping his mess of emotions all over the legitimate, non-responsible-for-Steph's-death mourners who'd come to comfort her mom! So infuriatingly rude.
"Come on, babe," Conner muttered to Tim with a frown, propelling him towards the room's main entrance. Tim relaxed into Conner's strong arm as they walked, mindlessly allowing his feet to move, until Conner suddenly jerked to a halt halfway to the receiving room doors.
"Conner?" Tim asked with a wrinkled up brow.
"Trouble," Conner hissed, tensing up. He quickly turned them around and practically dragged the befuddled Tim back towards Bruce and his mothering hens. "Dad!" Conner said urgently, tugging on Lex's elbow to pull him away from Bruce the Weeping Willow.
Tim glanced over his shoulder, looking for Riddler or Penguin or any type of disturbance at all, but the room was full of nothing but Mrs. Brown's neighbors and colleagues, who were giving her hugs, mingling with each other, and talking shop while they nibbled on the abundant refreshments and cast not-so-subtle, curious, and mostly judgy glances at the loudly sobbing billionaire who was so crassly shattering the room's reverently hushed atmosphere.
"What is it?" Lex asked in a low voice, snapping to attention and instantly as serious as Conner's tone.
"Vicki Vale," Conner whispered. "Outside with a whole news crew." Tim stared at Conner in amazement, but Lex seemed completely unfazed.
"I'll distract them while you get to the limo," he said immediately. He made a quick scan of the room and gestured with his head to the rear doors that the caterers were using as they went back and forth to the kitchen.
"Find the back exit to the building" he quietly instructed. "Where they bring the bodies or the food in." Conner nodded and was about to pull Tim along, when Lex stopped him. "Actually -" he hesitated. He flicked his eyes to Babs, who was watching their whispered conversation with open curiosity from a few feet away.
"Barbara, if I could trouble you?" Lex asked both apologetically and most respectfully. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Reporters have descended and Tim and Conner may have a slightly easier time making their escape with an adult accompanying them," he explained. "If you would be so kind…?" he indicated the caterers' entrance.
"Sure," Babs answered, sounding slightly surprised. Her face went from surprised to downright astonished when Lex reached down and gratefully squeezed her shoulder.
"Thank you," he said with deep relief. His hand looked like it wanted to linger, because it hung back when he turned around, but then he was straightening his suit jacket and striding purposefully to the main doors, which were still devoid of reporters, while Babs' wide eyes followed him.
"Come on," Conner said impatiently, tugging Tim along and giving Babs a pleading glance.
"Right behind you," Babs said, shifting into Mission Mode.
The caterers did indeed protest when the boys burst into the staff hallway, but after one look at the wheelchair-bound Babs behind them who briskly demanded the back exit in her no-nonsense teacher voice, the trio was being ushered through the kitchen to the back loading dock.
"What if a news crew is waiting here, too, to ambush us?" Tim asked Conner worriedly before allowing him to step outside.
"They're not," Conner said confidently. Tim gave Babs a look. Because no offense to his soulmate, but how the hell did Conner know that for sure? Or know that Vicki had arrived in the first place, for that matter? But Babs give Tim a tiny head nod of support for his soulmate's odd self-assurance.
Well, ok. If Oracle said so …
Conner led them out into the sunlight, where, indeed, no reporters were to be found. And there was Mercy, pulling the limo up behind the catering van.
"Thank you, Professor Gordon!" Conner called as he pulled Tim into a run.
"My pleasure," Tim heard her answer. She gave him a sad smile good-bye when he glanced back at her from the limo door before she turned and wheeled herself back inside.
"In, in, in," Conner insisted, pushing Tim ahead of him into the limo before slamming the door shut and locking it. "What's the plan?" Conner demanded of Mercy, who had the dividing window rolled down. "They'll be on us in a minute."
"Maybe not," Mercy answered. "Your dad is really good at engaging people's attention, when he wants to," she smirked. "He told me to get positioned for a clear exit, in case we need to leave without him," she said as she began to drive towards one of the lot's far entrances. "But I suspect that he'll give Vicki such an impressive interview that she won't bother with you two. Not tonight, at least," Mercy said comfortingly. "You might need to make a statement tomorrow, but he'll figure that out."
"Ok," Conner sighed in relief. Tim felt his own shoulders slump as his heart rate began to slow down. That had been close. How had Conner known? "No offense, but can I put the window up?" his soulmate was asking Mercy.
"Of course," she smiled back at him. "I'll buzz you on the intercom if your dad gives any further instructions."
"Thanks," Conner said as the dividing glass began to rise, giving the two soulmates some much-needed privacy for some much-needed answers.
"You ok?" Conner asked Tim quietly once the dividing window had sealed them off from Mercy. "You want a soda or anything?" Conner offered, noticing Timmy's still ragged breathing.
"I'm good," Tim said automatically. "But -" He paused and bit his lip, looking up at Conner with troubled eyes.
"How did I know?" Conner asked for him. Tim nodded. Conner took a deep breath and let it out slowly, just like his therapist had taught him to do before speaking when he felt shaky and nervous. "Please don't hate me after I tell you," he softly begged his soulmate as his stomach began to churn and twist like a nest of snakes.
"Babe," Tim answered in shock. "I could never hate you. Not ever," he insisted, gently placing his palms on Conner's cheeks before pressing their foreheads together. Conner sniffed away tears, because his Timmy was sweet and smart and adorkable and hot and liked him, truly liked him, but that could all change after a few words from Conner.
"You might be revolted by me," he insisted, low and miserable. "Or you might be scared of me and want me to keep away from you. I'd never hurt you, though, Timmy!" he promised, pulling his head back so he could stare straight into his beautiful soulmate's eyes, the eyes that Timmy swore were far inferior to Conner's own, but which Conner thought were breathtakingly gorgeous.
"I know you'd never hurt me, Con," Tim softly reassured him. He slid his hands in a soothing path down Conner's arms and then squeezed their hands together. "Go ahead and tell me. I promise it'll be ok. I, uh, have my own stuff to tell you, too, remember," Tim said, looking slightly nervous himself, now.
"I know," Conner mumbled in embarrassment. "I know your stuff, I mean," he added, wanting to be completely honest with his soulmate. "That you were Robin and Bruce is Batman. I found out by accident," he added. "I didn't mean to." Timmy gasped at Conner's admission and his heart started hammering again in his chest.
"It's ok, babe, I'm not upset that you were Robin," Conner quickly comforted. "I'm really proud of you, actually," he said, dipping his head as his cheeks turned pink. "And super impressed."
"How did you find out?" Timmy begged to know, his voice slipping into a higher, panicked register. "Does your dad know? Do you know - oh shit - do you know about your dad? OhmyGod -" he squeaked.
"Ok, breathe," Conner coached, putting his hands firmly on Tim's shoulders and pressing down to ground him. "No, my dad doesn't know, at least not that I'm aware of. Yes, I know he's sort of a villain, but he's not nearly as bad as the Terrors who made me," Conner glowered.
"The Terrors?" Tim repeated, his eyes going wide. "Who made you?"
"I'm a clone," Conner muttered in shame, squeezing his eyes shut in case Tim's face went sour. If his soulmate looked at him like Superman had, Conner didn't know how he would stand it. "Do you know Amanda Waller?"
"Of her, yeah," Tim breathed out in shock.
"She stole DNA from my dad and Superman and combined it to create me," Conner said without looking up. "The scientists hyper-accelerated my initial development so that I was a teenager when I first gained consciousness. They kept me prisoner and - and tortured me," Conner got out in a shaky voice as his eyes squeezed tighter shut, "trying to make me into their weapon."
He wanted to say more, he did, to explain all about the abuse and training and cruelty and kryptonite and how he wasn't bad, he wasn't, but - oh God, he was suddenly sobbing as hard as the pathetically inappropriate Bruce Wayne. Warm arms embraced him and snuggled him tightly into an even warmer chest.
"Babe," Tim crooned against his head in a broken voice. "Sweetie - Conner - I'm so sorry," Tim's voice quivered over the words as he hugged Conner tight, tangling a hand in the back of his hair, which probably messed his gelled spikes up, but Conner didn't care. "It's ok, you're safe now," Tim soothed before pressing kiss after kiss into Conner's forehead. When Conner shivered and nuzzled closer, Tim began running slow fingers along his scalp.
"I'm here," Tim promised more assertively, sounding downright badass in a way that Conner had never heard from him before (and quite liked). "I'm here," Tim repeated, reaching fingers out to tilt Conner's chin up so he'd look at him, "and your dad's here, and Mercy's here - and yeah, I know she's an Amazon and I'm glad, because we're all here to protect you. No one's ever gonna hurt you again, ok? I swear. I swear as Robin," Tim passionately uttered. "Or - as the former Robin. I swear as a superhero," he bit out with determination. "I'm gonna keep you safe."
Conner shuddered as a wave of love and relief and comfort washed through him. Tim didn't look repulsed by him at all. He looked fierce, and protective, and so, so concerned and not the slightest bit disgusted. Conner whimpered softly as he pulled himself even tighter into Tim's frame and melted into his boyfriend.
"I wanted to keep you safe today, Timmy," he sniffed out against Tim's neck. "It's your sad day. I should be taking care of you."
"You did keep me safe, babe," Tim smiled down at him. "One reporter ambush successfully averted," he bragged on Conner's behalf. Conner managed a small smile back at him.
"I'm super sorry I overheard about you being Robin," he apologized. "I was trying so hard not to listen in when you talked to your dad, but then you mentioned Superman and I got really scared and couldn't help eavesdropping."
"Why does Superman scare you?" Tim frowned. "Because he used to fight so much with your dad? But isn't Superman your dad, too?" Conner snorted, but it came out wet and sad.
"He called me an abomination," he ground out in a cracked voice. "My dad and my aunt and uncles - some of my dad's friends, you know?" he explained and Tim nodded his understanding. "They rescued me from Cadmus. Uncle Floyd saw me there when he was a prisoner, too, and he told my dad and they came for me."
"But then Amanda Waller sent Superman after me; she told him I was a weapon. And Superman, he - he agreed with her. I was so scared. I thought he'd love me like my dad did and instead he wanted to kidnap me and lock me up on the Watchtower," Conner's voice wavered before he broke down in tears again, remembering his crushing disappointment that had turned to absolute terror when the Man of Steel had sneered at him with heat beginning to simmer behind his eyes.
"Oh, my God," Tim gasped, reflexively hugging Conner even tighter. "How could he do that? Why would he do that? Superman's always been so good! And anyone can see you're a person! Plus, how long ago was this?"
"A few years," Conner mumbled into his shoulder.
"So you'd have looked even younger to him than you do now?" Tim cried in horror. "What the hell, Superman? I thought he helped kids. I thought he helped everybody. What happened? Did he take you from your dad and lock you up?"
"No, Uncle Floyd shot him with kryptonite so we could escape down to the bunker under LexCorp Tower," Conner sighed. "And then there was a trial, in court with a judge. All the Justice League Founders came to support Superman but I think he'd lied to them, because Batman got really angry at him."
"He said," and here Conner perked up at the comforting memory, "he said he'd blow the whole Watchtower up before he'd let the Justice League lock me up there, and he told the judge that I should get to live with my dad. And I did get that," Conner smiled in relief. "And Superman got a really strict sentence. He can't operate by himself in Metropolis anymore -"
"Is that why he's always buddied up now?" Tim interrupted, his jaw dropping. "I thought they were having him train new League members." Conner gave a derisive head shake.
"He's under supervision. And those goggles he wears now aren't his new uniform, they're to keep him from using his heat vision because he could kill me or my dad with it from far away if he wanted to. I think the Justice League has to lock the goggles on him special before he goes out on duty. He has to stay far away from me and my dad, too, not that that helps a lot, because super speed, but at least I don't have to get nervous from seeing him hanging around glaring at me," Conner sighed.
"My dad and Mercy and our bodyguards are all allowed to carry kryptonite, too, to protect me," Conner added, almost as an afterthought. "But my dad doesn't trust many people with it because they could use it against me, too. I think only him and Mercy have it for day to day, but Uncle Floyd has a lot of kryptonite bullets that my dad made for him, I know, and Uncle Polaris and Aunt Star and Uncle Shade have hidden caches of kryptonite they can bring out of hiding to save me if they have to."
"Oh my God, Conner," Tim murmured. "I can't believe Superman - I mean, I do believe it. I do. It's just so horrifying, that someone I thought was so good could turn out to be such a monster." He swallowed uncomfortably.
"A little bit like Batman, huh?" Conner said sympathetically. "Even if he's not exactly a monster. He messed up so bad and let you down so much. I'm so, so sorry Timmy. I can't even imagine how you must feel about him now. I'm messed up about him not saving Steph, too, and I don't even know him like you do," Conner said thickly. Tim hummed in sympathy.
"B stood up for you against Superman," he said. "That was big. Of course you'd like him and feel disappointed."
"Yeah," Conner rasped. "But he was like your dad, right? A good dad. Because your own dad sucks so much."
"Yeah," Tim whispered, tears filling his eyes. "He was. Is. I don't know anymore. I can't wrap my head around him firing Steph."
"He fired her?" Conner gasped. "I thought Spoiler was independent of Batman." Tim gulped.
"He made her Robin after my dad found out about me and moved us to Metropolis. Actually, Steph broke into the BatCave and bullied Bruce into making her Robin."
"Oh my God, she sounds amazing," Conner said wistfully.
"She was," Tim sniffed. "Completely amazing. And she was a kickass Robin. Sure, she needed more training. She hadn't had nearly as much yet as me or Jason or Dick. But, B was supposed to give that to her! And instead he fired her and -" Conner's stomach lurched.
"There's more to how she died, isn't there," he nervously asked. He'd thought that Batman simply hadn't paid enough attention, that he hadn't kept a close enough eye on his city's solo teenaged vigilante. But Tim was making it sound like it was way more than a tragic oversight. In fact, his soulmate was shaking his head in frustration with tears running down his cheeks.
"I don't know. I think Bruce was trying to tell me about what really happened when he called me at school to tell me she was dead. He said something about the gang wars, but I stopped listening."
Conner shifted his face so he could press a kiss to Tim's neck, and he reached his hand up to wipe away his tears. He remembered with a sick feeling in his stomach how he'd seen his crush (who yes, of course, he'd been secretly eyeing all lunch period) freeze and stop breathing before blanking out and letting his phone fall to the ground in the school courtyard, only yesterday.
"I want to ask Bruce for all the details," Tim groaned in his arms, "but I also can't stand to look at him right now. Especially after he had the nerve to show up here tonight and cause a scene!"
"Right?" Conner snarked. "He was making Mrs. Brown really uncomfortable and tonight was supposed to be for her."
"Yeah," Tim angrily agreed. "And no matter what happened, if B hadn't fired Steph - if she hadn't been out there by herself - God," Tim crumpled, finally letting out the Bruce-level sobs that he'd clearly been holding back. "Why would he fire her?" he howled into Conner's hair. "That was her last text to me and I never even answered it. I never answered it, Conner!" Tim wailed. "She died thinking I didn't even care!"
"No, no, hey, honey, no way she thought that," Conner frantically soothed. "I promise. Steph loved you. It wasn't the first time you've gotten caught up in a project and didn't text her back right away, was it?"
"No," Tim choked out, still sobbing. "But I should have. I should have checked my phone. I could have saved her. I could've called Bruce. I could've made him go look for her when she didn't answer."
"Baby," Conner said helplessly. "Fuck. Timmy," he rasped, tears forming in his own eyes as his soulmate sobbed his heart out. Conner shifted out of his slump against Tim's chest and pulled his soulmate into his own lap instead, wrapping Tim's arms around his neck and cuddling his head against his cheek. "I wish I could fix it," Conner said hoarsely. "I'd give anything to fix it. Even if it meant not knowing you were my soulmate until we turned twenty-one."
"I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you right now," Tim sobbed out. "Is your dad gonna be mad I was Robin? Is he gonna try to hurt me?"
"Baby, no. Absolutely not," Conner said confidently. "He loves you and he'd never hurt anyone I cared about, but most especially not my soulmate. We probably should tell him, though, before he hacks into Steph's phone," Conner sighed. "He's gonna be pretty mad at Bruce and we might need to calm him down."
"We can't tell him Bruce is Batman!" Tim gasped, lifting his tear-stained face in horror. "Why would we tell him that? Bruce will feed me to Superman! He wouldn't even let me tell Steph my real name for the longest time, let alone his! Conner - no way!" Tim gaped at him like he was crazy.
"But - won't he find that out from Steph's phone?" Conner asked in confusion. Tim shook his head no.
"B uses all his Batman tech and his phone number is registered to an untraceable source. I mean, actually -" Tim suddenly blushed and looked damn nervous. "Me and Steph shouldn't have been texting about Robin and Spoiler stuff at all on our phones. That was a really stupid security risk. But once I'd moved to Metropolis, texting was the easiest way to keep in touch, and, well, yeah."
"Asking Bruce for your own Bat-phones to text on probably wouldn't have gone over so well, huh," Conner hummed sympathetically. Tim groaned and shook his head.
"Plus, my dad had threatened to kill Bruce when he found out I was Robin. Bruce was staying away from me." Conner choked.
"I'm shocked your dad had that in him," he said in wonder.
"Oh, he's got a lot of inner asshole," Tim said sourly. "It all just curls up and hides in front of your dad."
"You do actually like my dad, right?" Conner asked nervously. "Even though he's done some bad things?" Tim flushed.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "I like him a lot. It's awkward." Conner grinned.
"Awkward would be if you didn't like him," he said happily as he gave a sigh of relief.
"Maybe," Tim groaned. "But either way, we totally cannot tell him that Bruce is Batman, Conner. We can't." Conner shifted uncomfortably.
"I don't want to lie to my dad," he mumbled.
"You don't have to lie," Tim promised. "Just say that it's like how he won't discuss certain villain things with you. You won't discuss certain hero things with him. Which is perfectly fair and completely respectful and one hundred percent truthful."
"Ok," Conner breathed out, feeling slightly less anxious and agitated. Because he loved his dad, ok? Normally he'd tell him everything. But he had a soulmate now, and he'd promised to put Tim first. And Batman was Tim's secret most of all, even if Conner had accidentally learned it.
He wished more than anything that he could tell his dad, but as long as Timmy didn't expect him to lie about it, Conner guessed he could handle setting a boundary, as his therapist would call it. She'd probably be real proud of him, actually, for taking that step with his dad.
Man, Conner was gonna have so much to talk to her about this week. He wondered if they could stay in Gotham through the weekend so he wouldn't have to turn around and drive right back down on Saturday for his appointment. He'd ask his dad and Tim how they felt about it.
Tim might appreciate having some time to talk to Bruce on a less emotionally charged day, Conner thought, if he decided that a face to face conversation was what he wanted to have with his former mentor. Tomorrow would hardly be a good time, with Steph's funeral in the morning, but if they stayed through the weekend, then Tim would have time to work it out.
Conner was so caught up in his thoughts that he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to his super-hearing at all, so he and Tim both jumped out of their seats at the sudden rap on the tinted limo window. Conner's gaze shot to the glass, expecting to see a reporter -
But it was a soggy, miserable Bruce Wayne peering into the dark pane instead.
Shit.
Conner would have preferred Vicki Vale.
A/N - Thanks for reading! More to come
