Jaime's house sat in the suburbs, the picture of everything Conner had ever wanted. It looked just like the kind of house you would raise a family in. A normal family. With a mom and a dad and maybe a dog. The door to the garage had been left wide open, revealing an old pickup and a smaller sedan. A third car sat in the driveway with the hood popped, and a man with a cane who had Jaime's brown eyes stood over it, in deep conversation with a redheaded man.
Clark pulled up to the house and cut the engine. "I should introduce myself."
Now Conner felt this was entirely unnecessary, but Clark opened the door before he could voice such.
"Mr. Reyes! I'm Clark, Conner's father." Conner groaned even as his heart jumped at the way Clark so casually introduced them. Like they were a real family instead of a facsimile of the real thing forced together by circumstance.
Conner got out of the car, and trailed behind Clark as the man walked up to introduce himself to Jaime's dad. It was forty out, but after a week of near freezing mornings, it felt like a blessing. Jaime's dad grinned, and excused himself from the man he was speaking with. He wiped his hand on his dark blue jeans before offering it to Clark.
"Alberto, please."
"Thanks for having Conner over. Obviously if you need anything, feel free to give me a ring. What time should I be back?"
"I can text you, Clark." At this point Conner had become so numb to the humiliation of watching Clark pull out his dinosaur of a phone that he didn't even feel the embarrassment. But if Clark thought for one second this was some kind of playdate and that Conner couldn't handle himself-
"Oh, don't worry. I can drive him home. When do you want him back?"
Suddenly Clark turned big blue eyes, wide with panic, on Conner. Conner for his part, could not help the man. No one had ever asked Lex or Rex when he was supposed to be home. He had no frame of reference for when normal teenagers went home.
"Um, 8?" Conner tried.
Mr. Reyes smiled, kind eyes taking pity on Conner's obvious ignorance. "So early? I thought Jaime wanted to go see a movie. Unless you have plans..."
"No," Conner said.
"Ten is fine," Clark said, "Uh, maybe just be home before eleven? Text me if you need a ride earlier?"
"O-of course."
The questioning lilt and stutter did a lot to really sell the fact that Conner and Clark knew what they were doing. Mr. Reyes smiled, clapping his hands together. "Well then, Conner, Jaime and the others are inside. Did you want to give me your number Mr. Kent?"
"Yes, of course, Clark is fine."
Conner started towards the house. He paused at the door to look back. Clark and Mr. Reyes looked almost natural, speaking together, though the other man easily had ten years on Clark. For a minute Conner could imagine the life he could have had if Clark had taken him with him when he left Metropolis.
Or maybe if Conner had reached out to him, instead of running off with the first swindler he met.
He shook it off, and waved when he saw Clark watching him, before stepping into the house.
Unbearable. Suffocating. Insufferable. There were many words for the atmosphere in Jaime's living room. Conner knew several by virtue of the SAT vocabulary sheet Tim had almost eagerly shared with him when he showed up.
The living room was homey. Warm plush carpet, cheap paneled walls, and a round table for quick studying or eating. It sat behind a big leather couch and moderately sized TV. The four boys sat at the table, in relative silence, each with the study materials of their choice.
Bart had his chemistry book open, though the rate at which the eraser of his pencil bounced off the pages made his boredom obvious. Jaime had his Spanish homework open ("Don't judge me. I'm an AP Student."). And Conner worked on English. Tim seemed to be writing something, but had no books out.
No one spoke. Every now and then Conner would look up to check on the others to find Bart staring into space and Jaime glancing nervously between Bart and Tim. It had been like this since he arrived and Conner felt at a loss. He normally liked studying with Tim. He sighed.
At last, he couldn't take it. "I need the bathroom."
"I'll show you where it is." Jaime jumped up, a little too eager.
Jaime led him away and Tim watched them go, while Bart started testing how high he could bounce his eraser off the table.
When they got to the hallway, instead of leading Conner to the bathroom as promised Jaime brought them to a hard stop and pointed at a door.
"We need to talk. Now."
Conner bolted towards the door, mostly in reaction to the command in Jaime's voice, and Jaime followed him into what was obviously his bedroom, going by the general teen boy decor. Upon closing his bedroom door, Jaime spun around and leaned against it, throwing his head into his hands.
"Dude. Please. I need your help."
Conner stilled. He needed to pee pretty desperately actually and had no idea what Jaime meant. "Excuse me?"
"Dude, with Bart. This entire thing is falling apart."
"What thing? Are you a thing?" Conner asked.
Jaime threw up his hands. "I don't know!" he lowered his voice, "I mean it was just supposed to be us today. I thought maybe I could get him to, like open up?"
"Then why am I here?"
"I wanted your help man. I didn't think we were actually going to study."
"My help..." Conner racked his brain for his relevant skills and came up with very little that wasn't his ability to speak entirely in movie references. "With what?"
"You know…" Jaime said, refusing to meet Conner's eyes.
"Yeah. No. I really don't."
"I thought you would make a good wingman," he hissed.
Conner laughed in his face.
"Keep it down," Jaime said, looking panicked. He turned to check the door but no one seemed to be coming to look for them. He turned accusatory eyes back to Conner. "You don't have to be an ass."
"Sorry. Believe me it's not you. I'd love to help. But I don't think there's a single person on the planet who would recommend I give dating advice." In fact Conner's short list of exes demonstrated to great effect his poor judgment and had created a pretty shitty template for dating in the future. He'd never even kissed someone who wasn't arguably robbing the cradle. Tana had been twenty when he turned fourteen. And Kay had been easily ten years older than Tana.
"Dude, seriously?" Jaime asked. And he looked miffed.
"What? It's true."
"Every girl we know drools over you. Cassie and Cissie asked you to homecoming and Jason Wayne asked you to prom. Spare me your 'I'm not that special bullshit." Conner spluttered. "It's not even that hard. I just wanted some moral support when I went to talk to him."
"First of all," Conner said, "contrary to popular belief I've never dated...in like. Like this, ok? I've had two girlfriends. And, like, it wasn't a good situation and I don't- I've never even been on a real date. Why couldn't you have asked Stephanie?"
"I did. She said to ask you because boys. "
"Unbelievable."
Jaime sighed. He leaned back against the door again and both boys sat in awkward silence, staring at the carpet. Conner really didn't know why his friends couldn't just talk like normal people. It seemed to him that normal high schoolers were insane.
"Look," Jaime said, "I'm sorry. When I invited you I thought it would be just us, ya know. I didn't actually realize Tim would be here. And now we're like, actually studying." Gone unsaid was the accusation that Conner had been the one to technically invite Tim along. Sort of.
"Tim's not that bad." Or maybe he was, considering the complete silence they had been working in, but Conner felt the need to defend his accidental inviting of Tim. Make your bed, lay in it and all.
Jaime sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, but some of the tension seemed to have eased out of his posture. "Yeah. It's not really. I mean he didn't know. I should have made it more clear. I wasn't even really originally going to invite you. It was supposed to be just me and Bart. But I panicked."
"Clearly."
"We can't all have your good looks and apparent obliviousness."
"Ha. If you only knew." Conner really did need to pee, but he clearly wasn't getting out of there without doing something, so he added, "I'll try to convince Tim to lighten up. If you have any ideas of what we could do, that would be useful."
"Normally Bart and I play videogames-"
"Date like things Jaime. If you're going to do this at least try."
"You guys were gone a while," Tim said, while still staring at his essay. Bart watched them both with big gold puppy eyes, and Conner sheepishly returned to his seat. Despite having grown better at reading him, Tim's flat face and concentration made it impossible to tell where his head was at.
Bart turned to Jaime, "Are you ok?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm great. I'm just…" a terrible liar, which really was no surprise.
Time to be a friend, Conner supposed. He leaned over into Tim's personal space. He could sense the moment he moved too close because Tim's muscles seized, and the boy stilled even as he refused to look up from his essay.
"Hey, Tim?" Conner didn't have a lot of ideas as far as getting Tim to go along with Jaime's plans for the day, so he tried the only strategy that had worked last time. "Can we take a break?"
"We barely started," Tim said. He started writing again, and that wouldn't do at all. Conner's whining wasn't as effective when the victim wasn't looking at him. He reached out and grabbed Tim's pen, forcing the boy to halt.
"Tim come on. Let's do something fun. Or at least eat."
"I would really like to eat," Bart said.
Jaime still hadn't sat down. He stood behind Bart, watching Conner with comically wide eyes and generally completely failing to keep his cool. To preserve the act Conner ignored him.
"Tim, come on," Conner said.
Tim looked up and appeared to be seriously considering Conner's attempts to get him to break. "We have cookies. Alfred made a batch for me to bring over."
"I ate like half of them before you got here," Bart said sheepishly, "But we could head to that little place around the corner. The one with the deli? There's like, a gas station."
Conner looked past Bart's head at Jaime, and tried to imply with just his eyes that gas station food was no way to treat a date, but Jaime just said, "Whatever you want Bart."
Obviously, Conner would have to do all the work himself. "Weren't you telling me, Jaime, about a great place a few blocks from here, that serves fried ice cream for dessert?"
Bart's eyes lit up. "Oh, right! That cafe thing!"
"Well Tim?" Conner turned to see the Wayne boy wilt under the peer pressure. He folded in on himself, leaning back, and looking down at his homework. "I..."
"Come on, " Conner said. "We can split a desert and you can lecture me on the Holy Roman Empire on the way over."
This appeared to break him. Tim closed his notebook. "All right. Fine. But we have to study later."
Forty fahrenheit was unbearably cold to Conner's thin blooded, Hawaii acclimated body. He layered on the borrowed fleece and hoodie from Clark, and Jason's much more appropriate for Gotham weather leather jacket. As he pulled on the green plaid patterned fleece he caught Tim smirking at him.
"What?" Conner asked. "I'm cold."
"Nothing," Liar. Definitely lying. "You look good."
Conner huffed and zipped up his hoodie and coat. Tim, being a native Gothamite, wore a simple beige sweater and what looked like skinny jeans. He dressed a little bit like some kind of magazine model, with perfectly dark hair, a perfectly refined face, and a perfectly slim build under clothes that were clearly casual only in the sense they included jeans. It could be kind of infuriating how perfectly groomed Tim looked for a highschooler, and Conner wondered whether he actually dressed himself, given the state he had been in when he'd visited the manor. Maybe Alfred picked his clothes on school days. Maybe the Waynes had a stylist.
Conner, Tim, Jaime and Bart set out on foot. Jaime shouted something in Spanish to his mother, and with his limited education, Conner could make out the words "four" and "home", before Mrs. Reyes popped her head out of the kitchen.
"Mijo," she said, sounding exasperated, "Do you need money, or not?"
"I'm fine. We're just gonna go to the cafe around the corner. We'll be back."
"Are you sure? I could drive you. And then I could give you cash for the movie."
"What movie?" Tim asked, sounding alarmed.
"Thanks Mrs. Reyes! We'll be fine. We'll call if we need anything," Conner said, shoving Tim out the door, while Jaime finished saying his goodbyes to his mom.
"I didn't agree to a movie, Conner," Tim said, pouting petulantly as they waited on the walkway in Jaime's front yard.
"Tim, relax. Just...take today as a chance to hang out with some friends."
Tim sighed, "I'm not...you know I've been told I'm not very much fun. I could just head home if you guys don't want to study. No need to, uh," he paused, looking for the words, "kill the vibe?"
Tim looked kind of absolutely sad as he finished the sentence tentatively. Like he expected Conner to actually send him away for the day. "Who said you weren't any fun?"
"Jason."
Conner snorted. "Right. Jason. Picture of fun right there. You probably shouldn't get your party tips from a juvenile delinquent."
"Because you're the picture of civil obedience." Tim said. Tim's humor, the more Conner got exposed to it, was exceedingly dry. If it weren't for the fact they'd been talking for the last few months he might have thought Tim meant what he said.
Conner puffed up a little bit. "I'll have you know, I was ."
"Was?"
"Before I was arrested."
"For what?" Tim's eyes lit up. Conner blushed. He hadn't meant to say it as a means to get Tim's attention, but he most certainly had it now.
"Wouldn't you like to know," he said, trying to play his sudden embarrassment off as smug.
Tim hit him lightly on the arm. "Asshole." But it was fond. And the way Tim didn't look away or back down, Conner had a feeling he'd be watching him all day, waiting for a slip up.
"Thanks, Mom!" Bart said cheerily to Jaime's mom as the two walked out of the house. Jaime wore significantly more layers and Bart held up his hands to show off a pair of knitted wristers in bright red. "Aren't these awesome? Jaime's mom made them."
"I'm jealous," Conner said. And he wondered why Jaime was even freaking out. If Bart was close enough to Jaime's family he was calling Mrs. Reyes 'Mom' that had to be a good sign. "Jaime, are you going to lead the way?"
Jaime looked uneasy still, and glanced towards Bart before stuttering out "Of course," and walking ahead. Bart fell into step with him automatically. Conner waited a moment, then followed. Tim seemed to naturally fall in line with Connor. This made things much easier. Conner had been worried about keeping his end of the deal as Jaime's wingman, but Tim looked like he was going to make it easy on him. He stayed close to Conner, even as Conner lagged behind Jaime and Bart to give the two privacy.
The neighborhood was nice, full of houses just like Jaime's, and the sidewalk cramped and a little crooked so that Conner had to watch his step. They turned the corner of the block to a slightly busier street, and started towards the main roads. The weather was nice enough that people were out and about walking their dogs, and more than one pack of bikers passed them in the street.
Conner hoped for a quiet, uneventful walk. Tim poked him.
"So why were you arrested?" he asked. He kept his voice low so the other two wouldn't hear.
"You sure are being nosy today."
"Was it the thing with your step dad?"
"You remember that?"
Tim shrugged and kicked at a rock on the sidewalk. "You told me about it in the first place."
Conner wondered at that a little. Mostly because despite his slight obsession with the Wayne's being wackadoos, he'd never considered they, or rather Tim, would find him interesting in return. Conner, despite everything, had always found himself boring. His life could be chaotic and he reveled in the ability to rebel against any standard set for him but…
Conner was not smart. He was not clever. He was not particularly well spoken, and he caved under pressure. No, when Conner looked himself in the mirror at the end of the day, what he found was lacking.
A bitterness rose in his throat at the thought. "Well it's not a very interesting story."
Tim didn't say anything at first, and Conner thought whatever moment they were having had passed when they caught up to Jaime and Bart at a stop light. But as the little man blinked on and Bart and Jaime started walking again, Tim slowed down, and Conner slowed with him.
"What happened? If you don't mind me asking."
"I…" Conner didn't know where to begin. Funnily enough, in all his time in Gotham, no one had actually asked him why he was there. Not even Stephanie. And now that someone was asking, and it was Tim Wayne of all people, he found he'd never figured out a way to tell the story. In spite of himself he could feel the pangs of homesickness and deep loneliness setting in.
"Sorry." Tim said, frowning. "I didn't mean. I just was curious, you don't have to."
"No it's fine," Conner said, "Really. I just. Never really talk about it."
"Why not?"
Conner finally looked over at Tim with a wry smile. He didn't really know what to say. He felt like he might cry.
"I didn't want to leave," he admitted.
Tim didn't say anything. If anything he looked uncomfortable, and Conner regretted how much his face betrayed his emotions. He hadn't meant to get all worked up but-
"You must miss it."
So much. He missed it everyday. All the time. Everytime he went to sleep to thoughts of people who were no longer a part of his life, and every time he woke up with the whisper of a dream in his head. He missed it in spite of all the pain, all the betrayal. He missed it even though he'd learned nothing, done nothing useful, and left hated by almost everyone who had known him.
"It's so cold here," he said instead.
Tim fell quiet again, but this time Conner was prepared for the thoughtful response that followed.
"It must have been very difficult. For you to have to have moved here. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was mostly my fault."
"I doubt that." Tim said it the same way he told Conner he'd gotten a question wrong in Chem or corrected his spelling. For once instead of being infuriating it was reassuring. At least someone believed him. In him.
"Well, I do make some pretty terrible choices."
"You haven't even told me what you did."
Conner grinned, beginning to feel a little more himself. "Well. I sort of got charged with five counts of felony burglary. They tried to throw more at me but uh." Conner shrugged, "They didn't actually have anything. They were after…"
And after all this time Conner still tripped over talking about her. Tim let him pause, and Conner took a deep breath to reassemble his head.
"They were after my girlfriend."
"Oh," Tim said.
Conner couldn't help but feel disappointed. Bearing his soul, and all he got was an 'oh?'
"Told you it was a boring story," he said, resentment settling into the pit of his stomach.
"That's not-" Tim said.
"Uh, right, we're here." Jaime and Bart stopped suddenly, forcing them to pause their conversation.
The cafe was a tiny open air place with a canopy. The indoor seating, what little of it there was, was absolutely stuffed, and the tables squeezed into the space between the cafe and the building next door were clustered around space heaters. The curly font on the top of the doorway declared it Mama Rosa's and Conner was delighted to see most of the tables were small, or else already taken. It made his job much easier.
"Fantastic, I'll go grab us a table," And Conner waltzed past them to go find the smallest table he could.
The food smelled great, but unless Conner planned to use Lex's card, he had to be wary of spending anything. Lex already had too much dirt on him. The fact he even knew Roxy was in Metropolis made him uneasy. He slid into a minty green metal chair. The seat was cold and the paint peeling on the table. All around him families and couples were out enjoying what, for Gotham, counted as an excellent late fall day.
Tim walked up to the table, some kind of wrap in hand, and looked unamusedly down at Conner. He looked at the little two chair table and said:
"You expect all of us to fit here how exactly?"
Conner leaned back, spreading his arms magnanimously just as Jaime and Bart walked up with their food. "We can split. Jaime and Bart can eat at one table, we'll eat here."
Jaime turned red. "I really don't think that's necessary. I'm sure if we-"
"You're right," Conner said, "Tim, here."
He scooted over and patted the chair seat. Tim went scarlet so quickly Conner almost felt bad.
He started stuttering. "Oh. well. I don't think. Um-"
At the same time Jaime decided the dangers of sitting at a table with Conner outweighed any danger of sitting alone with Bart and said. "Thanks, but we'll get a table," before steering Bart away.
Conner heard the auburn haired boy say, "I don't mind sharing," before the two were too far away to be heard over the other diners. He turned a grin back on Tim who still stood frozen, food in his hands.
"Well?" Conner asked.
But Tim just ducked his head and silently slipped into the seat across from him.
"Suit yourself," Conner said, and readjusted. The seats were too uncomfortably small to share anyways. As Jaime and Bart sat down a couple tables over, he leaned to peer around the two families sitting between them. They looked happy. Bart was definitely chatting up a storm. He strained to try and hear what he might be saying but couldn't make out anything over the mom at the closest table talking to her kid about his soccer game. He sighed. Jaime was being super careful to not get too close to Bart and sat stiff as a board.
Conner wondered if Jaime had ever dated anyone before because it sure as hell didn't look like it.
It was then he realized that the table was too quiet and he turned to see Tim staring at him. Upon being caught Tim jumped a little and turned his attention to his food. Conner smiled and leaned forward.
"See something you like?"
Tim choked on his sandwich.
Conner felt like all things considered he was doing a great job at the whole wingman thing. Granted, he'd never had to do it before, and hoped he'd never have to again, but as Jaime and Bart laughed at some inside joke ahead of them on the sidewalk, he couldn't help but feel a little proud of his handiwork.
"Hey!" Bart called back to them.
Tim had been acting weird and quiet all lunch, and jumped when Bart seemed to be addressing them directly.
"Tim, Conner, there's like, a shopping center nearby. Wanna walk through before we head back?"
"Oh! I think that weird pop up amusement part is still in the parking lot." Jaime said, "We could grab funnel cake?"
"I was thinking of that new arcade," Bart and Jaime quickly devolved into talking about stores and places that meant little to nothing to Conner.
Quietly, so only Conner would hear, Tim said, "We really should be studying."
Feeling kind of bad for dragging Tim all over the place, Conner put a hand on his back and tried for his most reassuring smile. It must not have worked because Tim pretty much physically convulsed at the touch.
"I'll make it up to you. I swear. Just do me this favor and go along with it for the day."
Tim bit his lip but didn't say anything as the group crossed the street and made their way through a busy intersection towards even more stores and bars and parking meters.
"This is terrible," Tim said, as he shoveled another bite of funnel cake into his mouth. The parking lot outside an arcade in a mall that was half strip-mall half normal mall (and all around too small to be either) had been converted into a rather sad looking amusement park. A short ferris wheel, spinning arms, and UFO shaped rides took up the rather grey and musty lot. Despite the general subpar quality, the place was packed, mostly full of kids and gangly teenagers.
"Stop eating it," Conner said.
Tim made a face and took another bite.
"I know it's trash, but I can eat like five of these." Bart said. He and Tim sat on a metal bench together. Bart had insisted on sharing his funnel cake when Tim mentioned having never had any, and Jaime stood around awkwardly looking for the life of him like he didn't know what to do.
"Jaime is there a bathroom around here?"
Jaime shrugged. "I dunno, in the mall, maybe?"
"Wanna come hunt it down with me?"
Tim's attention snapped to them. "You guys make a habit of group bathroom trips?"
"Why, did you want to come?" Conner asked, and feeling a little more comfortable that Tim would let him, he poked the other boy in the ribs as payback for earlier. "Jealous?"
"No," Tim scoffed. "Don't get lost. I think Bart and I are gonna try the bungee jump."
"Is that what that's supposed to be?" Conner asked.
All four boys looked skeptically over at a contraption made up of four poles and a trampoline. A person was harnessed into bungee cords between each pole. One person had completely inverted and hung, flailing, while the poor polo shirted college student running the attraction tried to instruct them on how to get right sided.
Tim stood, "Come on, Bart, before the line gets too long."
"Awesome." Bart stood, tossing their now empty paper plate in the trash. Jaime and Conner watched them make their way through the crowd. Conner was pleased they were getting along at all, and surprised that Tim didn't seem to find Bart more irritating, but turned to Jaime because he had priorities.
"Jaime. My man. We need to talk."
"Conner-"
"It's not that I don't like helping you out. It's really no trouble. But you've gotta make a move man."
"I'm trying. "
"Are you though?"
The two started walking through the crowds, away from the busiest attractions, and towards the mall.
"Is there anything I can do to make it easier? Should I ask the ferris wheel guy to stop the ride at the top?"
"Don't you dare."
"I'm just saying."
Jaime sighed. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. They ducked into the mall, which had already started putting Christmas decorations up, and Jaime led the way down the narrow hall past some sad looking stores, towards presumably the bathrooms.
"I think things are going really well," Jaime said at last.
"I don't think Bart has any clue," Conner said.
"Well. Yes."
"So like, ask him out or something."
"Easy for you to say."
Conner grinned. "Really. I swear I've never done this before. You're doing fine."
Jaime stayed silent, looking sullen. Which, if Conner ever lived to see his twenties he'd have to apologize to Clark for a lot because teenage boys were the worst.
"Look," Conner said, trying to wrap things up as he could see the bathroom sign up ahead. "If you don't ask him I will."
Jaime perked up. "For me?"
"Uh uh. No way. If I do the work, I get the prize. Man up, Reyes or I'm going wine, dine and charm the pants off your date there starting as soon as I get back from the bathroom."
Jaime spluttered and Conner darted out of range and towards the bathroom just in time.
"You're an asshole!"
"Next time make Stephanie help you."
Conner didn't have to worry about charming the pants off Bart, because Tim did it for him. He and Jaime returned to the fairground to find the two of them giggling like kids while Bart waved around a comically oversized teddy bear. It stood nearly as tall as Bart's admittedly short frame.
"Jaime! Look what Tim got me!"
Tim was flushed red from laughter, and looked over at Bart and oh boy Conner had never seen the other boy so alive. He looked giddy with it.
"Did you buy that?" Jaime asked, and if his voice sounded a little strained, well, served him right for being so slow and dragging Conner into this mess.
"What?" Tim asked, and Conner watched some of the light fade from his eyes. "I uh, no? No. I didn't I uh-"
"Tim has killer aim," Bart said. "I think we just won every game in this place."
Tim flashed a grateful smile at Bart. Honestly Conner hadn't expected the two to get along very well, but he'd have been lying to say it wasn't nice to see Tim actually enjoying hanging out with someone. He'd been worried that maybe Tim didn't like anyone.
"We did the hoops, darts, water guns, we shot the rubber ducks. And I don't even know how he did the basketball because that hoop has to be rigged."
"They have to make sure someone wins every now and then or else people would accuse them of rigging." Tim said, not at all explaining how he won. "I can show you how to cheat a claw machine if you want."
Bart's eyes went wide, " Really? There's one in the mall let's-"
"Maybe after?" Conner interrupted if only for the sake of Jaime's ever more obvious near aneurysm. "Come on, Jaime and I haven't tried any of the rides."
"They're kind of lame," Tim said, not helping at all, "The bungee jump line was too long and everything else looks like it's not up to safety code."
Conner tried to give Tim a look that impressed upon him exactly how unhelpful he was being.
"Tim said he could probably scale the mall if we wanted to though," Bart said helpfully, and Conner heard Jaime groan behind him.
"Oh my God," Conner said, "I just remembered, Tim, come with me I want to ask you about English. Jaime, Bart, don't wait up." With that he reached out, grabbed Tim by the wrist, and dragged him away. He didn't pay attention to where they went, just ducked around crowds until Jaime and Bart were out of sight and stepped into the nearest line.
"Con- Conner, hold on," Tim wriggled free, "Is everything ok?"
Tim looked a little hurt, and for a second Conner felt bad. Tim didn't seem like he had many friends and he and Bart had really been getting along. If Jaime didn't make a move soon Conner knew he'd be making this up to the both of them for a long time. He checked to see what they were in line for. The rickety ferris wheel loomed above him. Great.
"Everything's fine," Conner said, "just dandy."
Tim frowned. He didn't seem to trust Conner's word, and even though he hadn't complained about the cold once since leaving the house, he brought his arms up and hugged himself in a universal signal of chills. He looked unhappy and now Conner felt like even more of a jerk.
"So...I'm not doing anything wrong?"
Conner blinked. "No. Of course not."
"Well. Ok. You just seemed like- you seem unhappy." Tim said. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans and seemed to be trying to look anywhere but Conner. "I thought...I thought you wanted me to try and be friends and stuff."
Conner hesitated because, as usual with Tim, he wasn't sure he knew where this conversation was going. "Well, if you like them."
"I like them."
"Cool."
"Right."
They shuffled forward in line little by little. Tim nudged him a little.
"So...you don't have an English question?" he asked.
Conner nudged back. "Nah. Just had to make up an excuse to get you alone."
Tim blushed and mumbled something about Conner being a jerk. "I hope you fail."
"Liar."
They were loaded into a gently swaying seat by a bored looking older teen, who spouted off safety rules like he would rather be anywhere else.
"Hands in the ride at all times. No standing during the ride. Please be respectful of other passengers."
Conner and Tim took a seat for two, and the wheel slowly creaked.
Conner could have cared less about the ride. Or the amusement park. Or generally any of their surroundings. He loved roller coasters, always had, but the only ferris wheel he had been on had ended in a make-out session with Tana back when they had first started dating and besides that, he'd never cared for slow rides. The wheel creaked and groaned as it moved, inspiring very little confidence, and Conner barely noticed as they slowly rose above the crowds.
He leaned over, perhaps a little too far, to see if he could spot Jaime and Bart in the crowd below and considered pulling out his phone to text Jaime and see if he'd made his move yet.
Snap.
Conner jerked and the seat rocked, and Tim smiled a little bit. He was holding up his phone, and lowered it slowly.
"Sorry," he moved to take a picture, this time of the city skyline and not Conner, but Conner leaned over to catch a peek at the picture Tim had taken. Tim hesitantly held it out. Conner diffuse lit by the grey-white light of a late autumn Gotham sky, looked out over the crowds below with a face so serious Conner couldn't believe it was actually him.
"Do I always look that angry? Why are you taking pictures of me."
"Yes." Tim said, with a wry smile. "Well you didn't come to Homecoming with me, so I don't have one of you. Not as fancy as film but-"
Conner laughed and pulled out his own phone. "Ok, that's fine, we can get your fancy camera later."
He scooted closer to Tim, rocking the seat, and turned on his front facing camera. "I look too serious in that one. Here. Smile."
He held up his phone. They were nearing the top of the ride and Tim simply looked at Conner with his incredulous blue eyes.
"What?" Conner asked. "Too good for a selfie?"
Conner watched Tim physically bite down a retort before relenting and scooting closer. Tim felt cold even through the many layers. He put an arm around his shoulder and held the camera up higher.
"They key to a good selfie is the angle," Conner told him.
"I'm sure."
He snapped the picture, right as Tim finished talking with a look on his face caught halfway between amused and surly. He grinned as he showed Tim.
"I look stupid."
"You look great." He pulled away and tapped send on the picture, "And now you have a picture of the two of us. To makeup for homecoming. And I'm sure everyone will be at prom."
"Yeah. Prom."
Tim got all sad and quiet again, but Conner couldn't really help that. He honestly didn't know what it was sometimes that got Tim in that mood, but at least he had stopped taking it personally. As the ride began to descend, he shucked off his, technically Jason's, coat.
"Here."
Tim blinked up at him. "Excuse me?"
"You're freezing to death. I can feel it from here."
"It's 42 degrees Conner," Tim said, but accepted the jacket anyways. And he was smiling again, so Conner counted it as a win. "So what movie are we seeing tonight?"
Jaime beamed at Conner when they finally reconnected on the ground. He shot him a discreet thumbs up over Bart's head, and Conner took that to be a good sign. And then they got to the movies.
The theater sat on the opposite side of the mall. It was only four, but Jaime had a skip in his step as he led them through the building to the ticket stands. And Conner was happy for them, really.
"...it's like, an inversion of the typical haunted house set up. Plus the main character is blind and I hear they do cool stuff with that," Jaime said.
"I don't know about horror movies," Bart said.
"There's a new western style movie about a bank heist. I really wanted to see that," Tim scanned the movie times above the ticket counter and Bart meanwhile shifted restlessly.
"Oh," Jaime said. "Sorry, I didn't really ask. Did you guys want to see something else?"
"I don't care," Conner said honestly. He enjoyed neither horror or whatever heist film Tim was on about, but then he saw Bart gesturing wildly behind Jaime's back. His arms flailed, and his meaning was entirely lost to Conner, and when Jaime turned to face him, question in his eyes, Bart blurted.
"Horror's fine!"
After buying the tickets, Bart got in line for concessions and Jaime went to save them seats. Tim was the first to speak, looking deeply concerned for his new friend, he reached out and tapped Bart on the shoulder.
"Everything ok Bart?"
Bart spun around. He flailed again.
"You're gonna have to use your words," Conner said.
"Jaime asked me out."
"That's great!" Conner said as Tim said "I don't get it."
Conner spared a look at Tim, who looked exasperated, and Bart waved his arms with even more drama.
"Guys, guys, guys, you don't understand."
"What's the problem?" Conner said, feeling his heart sink. He didn't know how he would break the news to Jaime if it turned out all this had been for nothing.
"I thought we were already dating. What am I supposed to do?"
Tim had the nerve to laugh, but politely covered it up by clearing his throat and asking, "What do you mean?"
"We've been dating for like two months," Bart said, "Like since Homecoming."
"So barely a month." Tim said.
"Hold on, since homecoming? Then why is Jaime freaking out?" Conner asked.
"Jaime's freaking out?" Bart asked, panic-stricken. "Oh God I knew something like this would happen. Stupid, stupid, stupid-"
"Hold on," Tim said, grabbing Bart's wrist to stop him from tearing out his hair in frustration, "What's the problem?"
"The problem is I've never been on a date-Hell, I'm so bad at dating I didn't tell the person I was dating we were dating and now I have to go on our first date? How are you not freaking out?"
"It's actually pretty funny," Conner said, "Because Jaime told me earlier he needed moral support to ask you out. Literally that's the only reason I'm here."
"Oh my God," Bart said, curling in on himself.
"Not helpful, Conner," Tim said, then turned to comfort Bart, "I mean. At least you know the feeling's mutual."
"Oh my God I'm doomed. Why am I terrible at this?"
"You're going to be fine," Tim said, "Come on, I'll buy you the infinite refill popcorn."
Bart looked up with golden eyes shiny with unshed tears. "Really?"
"Really. And Conner will give you dating tips while we wait, right Conner?"
Conner sent Tim his best, I'll-get-you-for-this look and Tim returned with a withering if-you-hurt-him-I-will-hold-you-accountable stare before he left them to go talk to the cashier. Conner turned to Bart, who looked like he was calming down.
"So, what are you worried about?"
"Mostly about the fact my best friend, who I thought was also my boyfriend, is not my boyfriend. And now I have a second opportunity to mess everything up. I nearly thought I did the first time, ya know? He didn't talk to me for days after homecoming but then we were getting along again and I just sort of assumed…" Bart shrugged. "This sucks. And by the way you suck for not telling me."
"Sorry," Conner said, and he meant it, "If I had known I probably wouldn't have kept ditching you today." Bart smiled, and Conner added. "For what it's worth, he was totally freaking out. You should have seen his face. I threatened to ask you out if he didn't."
Bart snickered. "Conner, please. And what if I said not interested?"
Conner mock gasped, " Bartholomew, please. My heart can't take it."
Bart giggled, and shook out his shoulders like he did before a race. "All right. I guess this could be worse."
"So much worse," Tim said, appearing magically with the largest tub of popcorn Conner had ever seen. "At least you know he likes you back. Now all you have to do is go along with it." He handed Bart the popcorn, "Also for what it's worth, I also thought you were dating after homecoming. It's weird to me that that flew over his head."
"Stephanie says boys are oblivious walnuts." Bart said.
"She's also the one who told Jaime to ask me for wingman help, so there you go," Conner said.
Bart smiled and held up the popcorn, "Well then, I guess I'm gonna go rescue my not-boyfriend. Thanks for the snacks Tim. You're like, my hero."
Bart turned and started towards the theater.
"You want anything?" Tim asked, already reaching for his wallet again.
"Nah." Conner said. He watched Bart's retreating form and turned to look at Tim. Tim looked a little tired, but generally in good spirits, and his blue eyes turned to meet Conner's.
"What?" he asked.
Tim looked good in Jason's too big coat, cheeks still pink from a day of laughter and cold. Conner shrugged.
"Well. I still feel like I owe you one. Wanna theater hop over to that western you were talking about?"
"It's more a neo-western." But Tim's eyes lit up even as he corrected Conner and they walked over to the other side of the theater. Conner relaxed, and though he didn't follow the movie at all, found for the first time all day he wasn't worried about what the others were up to.
They'd sort themselves out without him.
"Thanks for the ride, Mr. Reyes," Conner said.
It was dark out. Conner had stayed at the Reyes' for a little too long after the film, but at ten thirty had finally been dragged out by a reminder from Tim to be responsible. The last he had seen them, Bart and Jaime had been playing Monopoly in the living room with Jaime's sister Milagro and Jaime's mom. It had been painfully sweet, and stirred the sort of emotions in Conner that he knew he'd have to stomp out quickly or risk a week of moodiness.
Tim had also left, a black car having pulled up outside the house just before Conner had asked for his ride. Tim had offered, of course, to give Conner a ride home repeatedly, but Conner had turned him down.
"If you want to study tomorrow, we can," He added.
Tim had shrugged, "My schedule can be kind of rough. Can I text you? If Bruce says it's ok…?"
"Yeah, that's fine," Conner said, even as he felt his heart sink a little. It was a small thing. A silly thing. But he had been kind of looking forward to making up his lost study time with Tim.
Mr. Reyes dropped him outside his apartment building and drove off. Conner could hear the neighbors shouting. Home sweet home.
His foot had just hit the first step when he heard it. A sound like someone was rifling through something in the alley between his apartment building and the next. He tried to make out more of his surroundings in the yellow lamplight, but saw very little except for a trail of garbage and water stains in the pavement.
Now Conner had seen some horror movies. And he was no leading actress. In fact with his looks, he probably was the douchey guy who died at the start of the movie, who everyone hated. So he should have known better. Instead, he took out his phone, a part of his mind whispering about the dangers of Gotham and the Bat, and quietly made his way to the mouth of the alley.
Silent as he could, footsteps masked by the sound of his rowdy downstairs neighbors, he peered around the corner. A dark shape loomed at the end of alley, and Conner's only thought was that Gotham had a bear problem after all, before glowing red eyes snapped up to meet his.
He might have screamed, he definitely scrambled back, even as part of him tried to unlock his phone.
And then a shadowy figure, a person not a monster, flew down from the roof like a bullet, landing on the creature's back. It screamed, an unearthly sound unlike anything Conner had ever heard, and then a very familiar voice said:
"Run!"