All that could have been
He laid on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying really hard not to think. Not now. Perhaps not ever again.
A hand caressed his arm playfully. A big, warm, half human, half alien hand...
"Hey, Rob," said the clone. His sweated, glowing face leaning over his, "what's the matter?"
Rob.
Rob, not Tim.
He looked into his blue eyes through the lenses of his mask, realizing he had failed miserabily. He was thinking, at lightspeed pace.
Another night. Another fight.
It didn't matter if it was drugs, guns or just stolen goods. There was always a fight going on at Gotham City. And that night he'd been the man to fight it.
Or the teen.
Whatever.
He had hit as usual. Swift, quick and hard. A red blur, a moving shadow. Five big guys on the floor before they could even realize that shinny thing that had hit them first was a bat-a-rang.
Same exciting thing as everynight.
Same boring thing as everynight.
And then, suddenly, everything had become diferent.
"I see you don't need help" had said a voice behind him.
He had known the voice. He didn't need to turn to know whose voice it was. Still, he had turned, his breath rasp and hot, his pulse racing like mad.
For he was there. His bulky frame against the dark, starless Gotham sky. Unmistakable. His eyes, his smile...
"I don't know why I still worry",-he had joked.
And he could just stare, just shiver...
"Come on, man! Have you seen a ghost?"
"Con..."
It had to be a dream, because he had lived that very moment a thousand times before. In his dreams. So it had to be a dream. A very convincing one.
Hazily, his mind fogged by awe and astonishment, he had walked to the boy with the S in his T-shirt. He had stretched an arm, touched his face...
"Hey!" He had caught his arm, still smiling, and then, gently, he had wiped out the tears that Tim hadn't realized were running down his face. "Don't you dare get all moppy on me. You know I couldn't handle."
And somewhere there, while he hugged him and let the bigger boy return the hug, something had changed forever. For it had been the moment.
The moment he had finally realized why it had been so hard to move on without him.
The moment he'd got carried away.
The moment the hug had turned into a kiss. A longing, painful kiss.
All this time, he had been in love with his best friend.
Perhaps since Steph's death. Perhaps before. It didn't matter much. He had needed him dead and back to realize why everything had lost its meaning since he was no longer there.
So he had kissed his dead best friend, who had looked at him with surprise in his eyes for some seconds before returning the kiss.
And from that moment on he had shut down all his logical thoughts. He was too concentrated in kissing, caressing, lusting...
Conner is dead.
He'd never been aware of how much he had longed for him.
You were at his funeral.
He'd never been aware of how much he had needed having him like that...
He loved Cassie.
God! He loved him! How came he had never been aware of it before? How hadn't he realized? This whole year in pain...
You had his cold body in your arms.
He was so warm...
He is dead.
There was such intensity and hunger in his kisses...
Conner is dead.
He had closed his eyes and just let his body do the thinking, letting the clone fly him to some empty motel room. His brain could rest for a while. His brain could shut his ugly, dirty mouth for a while...
Dead...
Shut up... just... shut up...
"You know what the matter is", he said, sitting down.
"It's because of what we have just done?" He smiled warmly. "No one has to know if you don't want them to."
Tim eyed him, smiling too.
"Don't treat me as if I were stupid, will you? As I said, you know what the matter is, Match."His face changed. His smile, if it was one, was now of comptent.
"A little late to realize, don't you think?"
Robin held his smile as a protective wall. Held his bluff. Match didn't need to know the truth.
"What gave me away? Oh, I know, real Superboy would have never fucked you, would he?"
Ouch.
Keep your smile, Timmy, keep your cool.
"That, yes, and the fact that you never ever spoke my real name while we were at it."
"Aw. I should have thought of that while you shouted his. "
Robin draw air. He deserved it, so he just let the clone had his little winning.
"I must admit it puzzles me", he said, finally, while he look for his underwear with his eyes. "Why? It's a stupid plan, after all, don't you think? Everyone was going to notice sooner or later. So, why the effort? And I have come up with two possible answers. One, you were so miserabily lonely that you thought it would be cool let eveybody think Conner had come back to life and live the life of a heroe that you never had, because, let's face it, you never deserved it."
Match frowned. This time truth had hurted him.
"And the other one?"
"Someone, let's say Luthor, or Intergang, or whoever wants to rule the world this month, is behind it. The brain you don't have."
"Says the naked Robin sit on my bed."
Tim half laughed.
"That's a good point." He conceded. "Anyway, someone wanted you to pose as Superboy, to destroy us from the inside, poking in our most recent, hurtful, open scars. So that's what you've done, or tried to do. And as you didn't know if we were an item, you followed my lead... Ending stupidily in this empty motel bed."
Tim kicked the blanket to get from under it as to ilustrate his point.
"And you want to know who" Match didn't move
"Not really. And as I said, I'm not that sure there's a who to blame. But at least that posibility is more evil than pathetic."
Again, a hurt frown crossed Match's brow.
"And now what?"
"What do you mean? Now we get dressed and get out of here before anyone comes in and find us as we were brought to this world."
Match snorted, getting up. Man, he had a fine body. And he had done his homework. The hair was just the right color, the right length...
"No, I mean, what do you intend to do about it? Even if your utility belt was not under the bed, I'm still like a hundred times stronger than you."
That made Tim laugh.
"Do you really think that if my intention hd been to bring you down I would have told you I knew who you were? No, you stupid clone of a clone! I would have waited until I had a mean to get rid of you. And belive me, now, in my head, I have like three or four."
Match jumped at him, dropping him off the bed. In just a second he had pinned him to the wall.
"You conceited git. I can still kill you right now, with my bare hands."
"But you are not going to. If that was what you wanted, you would have done it already, as soon as I said your name."
Clicking his tongue, Match let him free.
"So what? You let me go?"
"Why not? You've done nothing, yet" Robin shrugged and picked his underwear, beggining to dress up. "You can learn a foreing language.. and then get lost in that foreing country. The furthest, the better. And never ever come back." Tim lost his casual smile and turned to the other boy. "Because if I ever see you trying to pose as Conner again, I'll get some kryptonite myself and beat you so badly that you won't even have a funeral, because all your remaints would fit in a jar."
The clone looked him in the eyes.
"You don't kill, everybody knows."
"Everybody knows I've never done it so far. Don't try me. Not with this."
Match began picking his clothes.
Tim watched him dress in silence, a little wary. In fact, he was not so sure about Match's intentions. But it was not only the fact that he could smash him just like a grape fruit. No. The sense of danger took most of his other thoughts away, and it was good. For the moment being he didn't need to think at all.
"No." The word was out of his mouth as soon as he saw Match about to pick his t-shirt. "Don't wear that ever again."
The clone picked it nontheless and stared at the big, red S.
"Or you'll go for the Kryptonite, I know..." He grimaced, throwing it to him. "I should have started with Wondergirl", he said finally with an amused smile. "It would have been easier."
"Go. Now."
The clone sighed, putting a foot on the window sil. He turned one last time.
"You know, Rob, I knew all along you two were not an item" He said, an strange gleam in his eyes. " I guess I just... Don't know. The new costume is kinda sexy. "
Tim felt how his face blushed, tensing his cheecks. He tried to say something else, but he was already gone.
I knew all along you two were not an item.
What was that suposed to mean?
He let himself fall on the bed, still half naked, holding the t-shirt against his chest. His half of the bed was still warm. All the room was, in fact.
Time to think of it.
Time to accept what had happened. What he had wanted, whished to happen. What he had allowed to happen.
He'd been in love with Conner. He still was. He had wanted Conner so he had allowed Match. And now, God forgive him, he was thinking that, given the cahnce, he would just repeat.
He'd been stupid. He could have showed him how to fool the rest, so he could have kept him.
Gee, Drake, you are sick.
He covered his head with the shirt, inhaling his scent.
They even smelled alike.
"Yeah, I am. But you are just wishing I had thought of it before."