He didn't want to be there, but Secret had been giving him the evil eye recently in a really *bad* way. Bart had started avoiding talking to him - not out of any particular bitterness, but because he simply looked so uncomfortable during their conversations. The final straw had been a simple look from Cassie, who in that single second brought across everything they had all been trying to say since day one.
Apologise.
God, he hated the idea. Apologise to Batman junior, after that argument. The argument to end all arguments. He couldn't remember it exactly, through the haze of rage he'd felt at the time, but he was pretty sure he'd called Robin a neurotic, snotty control freak. What had Robin said? Something about Kon not living in the world everyone else inhabited. It was hazy.
But he'd always remember his reply.
"Y'know what your problem is, Rob? You think that all your problems are so much worse than everyone else's! "Oh, I've got to go around being gloomy and depressing and arrogant the whole time, my life's so hard!" Well, some of the rest of us have problems too, y'know? But we don't cut ourselves off from the rest of the world when they get too big! We don't pretend that we're so damn mature while acting like the biggest kid here!"
And he would always remember Robin's face, which turned so carefully blank and expressionless that Kon knew he'd hit deep, and regretted the words almost before they were out of his mouth. Robin had looked at him very calmly and said, "And your problem is that you never get the full story before you act, Kon."
Then he had turned to walk out. Kon had yelled after him, "You want to keep your name a secret, mystery boy? Keep your whole damn life, why don't you?"
Apparently, that was what Robin was doing . . .
Gotham by night was better than Gotham by day, in a way. It looked cleaner because you couldn't see the dirt, and high overhead the stars were fantastic, mirrored in the dark city-scape below. The lights of a perfect Gotham shimmered and shattered in water of the harbour, and by its side the flawed Gotham positively glittered.
The problem, Kon thought gloomily as he landed on a gargoyle and put his head in his hands, was actually finding Robin. Once he did, he was sure the words would come, but until then - well, Gotham was a big city and Robin was one of nature's shadow-followers. He could be anywhere. Kon didn't even know he was out that night - didn't even know if he was standing in their headquarters right now.
It was all so . . . aggravating.
There was a familiar swish and he turned, mouth already forming into an "R", but the shape that landed on the rooftop behind him was Batgirl. She put her head on one side and made a curious noise.
"Hi," Kon said. There was no reply. "You never were much of a talker. Hey, you seen Robin?"
She gave him a long stare and then said, "Why?"
"Oh. Uh." Kon examined the stars closely. "Just need to, y'know, talk to him."
He couldn't make out any expression under that mask, but he got the distinct impression that she knew more than she was letting on. "Follow," she said eventually, and in one fluid movement spun around and somersaulted off the building and into space, a dark rope whipping up to catch around some object hidden in the gloom. Kon leapt up after her as she swung around and landed, cat-like, on a flat rooftop and began sprinting, leaping short distances between buildings. Kon flew alongside her, humming to himself.
"So," he said after an uncomfortable pause. "Where is he?"
She didn't look at him. "Working."
"Working? Like, Bat-working or does he flip burgers in his spare time?"
She lowered her head slightly but kept running. "Real work."
He didn't know which she meant by that, but didn't feel like asking. "Has he - uh - talked about Young Justice recently?"
The merest flicker of a glance at him. "No,"
"Not at all?"
"No."
She stopped suddenly and pointed down at a darkened alleyway from which the sounds of struggle and curses kept erupting suddenly into the night. Eventually there was a very final thud and then a familiar voice began muttering, half to itself.
"You have the right to remain silent - that bit only really counts if you're conscious, though - but anything you say can and will be used - oh, where's the point?"
Robin appeared, neon-orange and vivid black under a streetlight with a scowl on his face, dragging some unfortunate crook by a rope. "You have the right to an attourney, but we know you did it so there's not much point-"
He threw the rope over the bend of the streetlight and began winching the limp shape up. "And don't struggle, because I'd hate to have to hit you again. Half you guys should get longer for resisting arrest, really."
A cop car was already racing up the street. Kon took a wider look now, and saw the bank window smashed in further up the street, the glass glittering blue and red as the car approached. He looked behind him but Batgirl was gone - and when he looked into the alley, Robin was gone too. He sighed and sat down, legs dangling over the lip of the building. "No-one stays put for five minutes in this crazy city," he muttered.
"Go home, Kon-el."
After taking a moment to make sure he hadn't swallowed his tongue, he turned. Robin was standing at an unfriendly distance, entire body hidden in the folds of his cape. His eyes were still narrowed distrustfully, but he looked more ready to run away than attack.
"You guys're too creepy for your own good sometimes, you know?"
He hated the look Robin gave him then. Anger, hatred, anything else he could handle. But Robin gave him such a look of cold disgust that his stomach clenched. Had he picked it up from Batman? He tried to imagine the same expression on the Bat's face, and felt a little sympathy for the scowling boy in front of him.
"Look, Rob, I-" he paused. "I came here to, uh-"
Robin shrugged. "Frankly, Kon, I don't care why you came here. Just go again."
He turned around and began to walk away. Kon stood up, trying to swallow his anger. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. "Hey, I came here to try and make up, but if you're not interested-"
"No, I'm not."
Robin threw out a line and swung off unconcernedly, leaving Superboy dumbfounded. After a few seconds he blinked, came back to reality, and hurried after him, finally catching up as Robin landed on another rooftop. That was something, he thought. Robin could easily have lost him, but he obviously didn't want to.
"Rob - look, about last time-"
"There's nothing to talk about, Superboy. You said everything you wanted to say then. And I don't have time for this right now."
"Hey, after calling me the immature one this whole time," Kon snarled, "you're hardly the big adult here, huh?"
"I don't pretend to be, though." Robin said simply. He turned around again but Kon grabbed his arm -
- and knew it was instantly the wrong thing to do. Robin's head snapped around and he gave Kon another look, so he let go instantly and cringed slightly. "Can't we just talk?" he said quietly.
"About what?" Robin said wearily, looking genuinely tired. "About how you haven't got off my back since the day we met, or how I really can't deal with all this right now? Kon, there's nothing to say. We're never going to get on. Where's the point trying?"
Kon blinked. "You're quitting?"
Robin didn't meet his eye. "I can't deal with this right now," he said very quietly.
"Okay, he-who-has-terrible-problems," Kon growled, "what's wrong this time?"
Robin pulled away abruptly and walked to the edge of the building. Perfectly calmly, as if there weren't fourteen stories until the pavement, he stepped off and vanished.
Kon stared in horror for a second, and then ran forward, a hundred explanations running through his head. Test of friendship? He'd never reach him in time now. Suicide attempt? Why would Rob do that? Sudden lunacy? Maybe . . .
He hardly dared look down.
Not that he would admit it, but Kon was half expecting to see a horrible mess on the sidewalk. But he didn't see anything. Robin was gone, and he knew Gotham a lot better than Kon did, and there was no way he would see Robin again tonight.
Attempt number two, Kon thought glumly. This time the night wasn't cold and crip and clear, but misty and grey, with occasional patches of soul-drenching rain.
As soon as he saw Gotham in the rain, Kon instantly forgot what it had looked like before. Gotham was meant to be viewed through a sheen of drizzle. It suited it.
Spotting a dark shape on a building, he swooped down and said, "Ro-bat." He swallowed. "Man. Bat-man. Uh. Hi. Seen Robin?"
The Batman gave him a measured look, as if using any form of facial expression would simply be a waste on Superboy. "What are you doing in Gotham, Superboy?"
"I came to see Robin," he said, but it came out a lot more quietly than he meant it to. It always did, when he was faced with this huge, demonic figure in black. "D'you know where he is?"
Batman stared at him for a while longer and then said, "Go home, Kon-el."
Kon would have liked, just once, to say, "Bite me, Bats." but it would be suicide. Not because Batman would attack him, but because he'd just have to kill himself out of sheer terror. He managed to mutter, "You two really were made for each other." before flying off, a little more quickly than perhaps necessary.
And after hiding behind a skyscraper for a moment to make sure Bats wasn't following him, he set off bird-hunting again.
This time he found Robin sitting under an ornate overhang above a bank, bundled in his cape and watching the cash machines across the road gloomily in the slight shelter. Rain poured off the overhang in front, so he was looking at the world through a screen of drips. Kon wouldn't have seen him at all if not for the flash of yellow when the wind blew past.
Robin didn't look at him, but he got the idea that the silent boy knew he was there. "What the heck was the roof-thing for?" Kon said eventually, when Robin didn't acknowledge him. "I thought you were killing yourself."
Kon almost saw the sentence Wish I had, pass through Robin's thoughts. "I wasn't in a talking mood."
"Are you now?"
"No."
Kon sat down next to him regardless. "What'cha doing?"
"Waiting."
Kon didn't press further, but kicked his legs aimlessly and said, after searching for a conversation topic, "Saw Bats earlier."
"Oh."
The venom in the simple mono-syllable was tangible, and Kon was startled. "Rob?"
But Robin had wrapped his arms around his knees and was still staring at the cash machines, brows furrowed in fury and thought. Kon tried to work out what was happening, and realised with a sudden jolt of discomfort that if he was the one sulking, Robin would probably know how to deal with him.
So . . . what would Robin do?
Stay calm, probably. Stay calm and say something adult. Something adult . . . "if you pick at it, it'll never get better"?
"You okay?" he said finally, well aware of how lame it sounded.
Robin looked at him for the first time that evening, a sort of puzzled look. His gaze returned to the other side of the road. "Why?"
Kon paused. Because it was the right thing to say. Because he was meant to care about things like that. Because he did care about things like that.
He wasn't going to like this, but he had to say it eventually.
"We're worried about you, man." he said quietly. "You haven't shown up for ages. I'm beginnin' to think you took what I said seriously," he said with a weak grin, but Robin just gave him another look.
"That's exactly the problem, Kon." he said quietly. "You did mean it. Every word. And how can I look at you as a friend knowing that's what you're thinking about me?"
Kon was bewildered. He had never thought of it like that before. "It was just a stupid argument. We fight all the time."
Robin stared at him. "Boy, you really don't get this at all, do you?"
"Wh- what?"
Robin sighed. "I cannot walk into a situation where I know I'll just end up in an argument. It's stupid. It's pointless."
"You really hate not being in control, don't you?"
Kon realised he had touched something true this time, because Robin looked back at the cash machines - this time, to avoid looking at him. "I like to know I have some control over the outcome," he said slowly. "I don't like feeling like I'm sneered at for screwing up and resented for doing it right."
"Rob, we don't feel like that at all-"
"They don't."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
Robin waited for a loud squall of wind to fade before he said, "Kon, have you ever really accepted me as leader?"
"Well - yeah, I mean-"
"No," Robin said firmly, looking back at him. "Don't just say what you think I want to hear. Tell me the truth."
He was so surprised that for a second he couldn't think at all, and then tried to work out what the truth was. It sounded just as bad to him as it would to Robin.
"I guess . . . sometimes . . . I guess I like to be in charge. I'm used to being solo. I think sometimes I might've just been showing off," he said, flushing slightly, "and sometimes I resent being told what to do even when it's a perfectly good plan an' I woud've done the same without being told." He swallowed. Well, that had been incredibly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry for yelling at you."
Robin nodded gloomily. "I'm sorry too. I know I'm not very good company. And I know I get depressed a lot, and I really shouldn't take it out on everyone else. It's just hard sometimes. I can't talk to you guys properly because of the secret and I can't talk to anyone else about some stuff."
"What about Batma-"
He'd forgotten the look that crossed Robin's face earlier but it was back again, and then dissolved into baffled misery. Robin hunched himself into a smaller ball and looked across at the cash machines, but Kon knew he didn't see them at all.
"Okay," he said. "I told you the truth. Now you tell me. That makes it fair. What's going on?"
Robin sighed. "I haven't spoken to Batman in a couple of weeks now. We had a . . . difference of opinions."
"You had a fight."
Robin sighed again, and looked at the dark grey sky. "He yelled at you?" Kon attempted.
"I yelled at him," Robin said, and the confused look appeared again. "He just stood there. He should've said something."
Kon felt giddy for a second. "You shouted at him?"
"I was mad," Robin said simply, pushing his damp hair back distractedly. "He's so stupid sometimes."
"Oh?"
"He always thinks whatever he does is right, and it doesn't matter what other people think as long as he does what he wants to. And he's totally incapable of dealing with anyone who can talk back to him. And-"
He had finally caught the half-amused expression Kon wore, and stared at him for a moment before he said, "Oh," and looked at the floor, reddening. "Yeah, well. But he does it on a bigger scale."
Kon shrugged. "You wouldn't be you if you were different . . . right?"
Robin leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "I can't deal with all this, Kon. I can't. It's too much. Everyone else just worries about homework and dating and normal stuff and I'm almost getting my head blown off every night for some guy I never talk to because I feel guilty because he betrayed me, and half my friends call me one name and half of them call me another, and no-one knows who I am at all anymore. Am I a total nutjob?" he asked weakly, but Kon just laughed.
"You're one of Young Justice, aren't you?" He paused. "Aren't you?"
". . . yeah. I've just been busy recently."
They looked across at the cash machines. A white car was drawing up beside them, and three shapes emerged from the back, holding crowbars.
"You want a hand?" Kon said cheerily.
"There's only four of them. Sure it's not a waste of your god-like strength?"
"Bite me, birdboy. Four?"
"There's always a driver."
Kon rolled his eyes. "You stop the car," Robin said, but paused as he stood up. "Okay?" he said, and it really was a question.
Kon shrugged. "Good plan, I guess. Lead on."