Conner had never liked Mondays. Nothing good ever happened on Monday. As he lay awake at three in the morning, unable to fall back to sleep and unwilling to get out of bed, he wondered if Clark would let him take a skip day. He'd never taken one before. He actually hadn't missed a single day since school started, which was a record for him.

Outside the sound of light rain and distant Gotham sirens sounded as much like home as the surf of Hawaii used to. He felt the restlessness of it in his bones, and eventually he sat up. The part of him that had enjoyed saving pictures of gruesome murders for Maps or to add to his conspiracy theories felt cold and distant. Then he thought of all the work Clark had started for his next article and he felt worse.

Hoping to distract himself, he flipped open his laptop and tried to see if he could find anything else out about the Waynes that would point to what Tim had told him.

The first few articles were mostly news stories about the kids themselves. Duke's adoption had apparently been quite recent, and buried under that were clickbait articles about whether or not Dick Grayson was the most eligible bachelor in Gotham. He also found one or two stories about Jason Wayne caught shoplifting, and was unsurprised to see him flipping off the cameras.

In his bookmarks he found the old websites Maps had sent him. The author of the website, who went by A, had not been as far off as Conner would have liked. If he crossed off every mention of the Wayne's being vampires, it still left a tangled aristocratic conspiracy between the five founding families of Gotham, and monster sightings which Conner was beginning to suspect were more accurate than he originally thought. There was a long and creepily detailed family directory for the Waynes, which Conner was reading through, when Clark knocked on his door.

"Conner? Your friend is here."

"Excuse me?" Conner looked up. The sky outside had lightened to a uniform grey while he'd been absorbed in his reading. The only friend who'd have any reason to visit him was Stephanie. He had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't Stephanie.

The image of Tim standing awkwardly in his grim dark apartment living room brought Conner a previously undiscovered joy. Clark had refused to let Tim wait outside, so instead he stood, back to the living room wall, looking woefully out of place. He was too clean and put together for the lopsided little place. He also looked nervous, permanent frown only lifting when Clark asked if he was ok and Tim forced a smile to tell him he was just fine.

"I thought you'd want to get to school early," Tim said, as Conner grabbed a bagel and dodged out of the kitchen where Clark was whipping up coffee and a sandwich. Conner took a seat on the couch so he could glare at Tim while he ate.

"I do. Normally," Conner said. He decided not to ask about the whole showing up unannounced at his home thing. He had a feeling the answer would be creepy. And he'd done a fair amount of stalking himself. "I should also remind you the man in the kitchen is an investigative reporter. Are you insane?"

Tim shrugged but didn't answer and Conner heaved a dramatic sigh so that Tim would understand exactly how absurd he found him.

Tim waited quietly for Conner to finish breakfast, shower, and throw on the first clothes he could find. He emerged hair still wet, in two sweaters and his jacket. He found Clark cornering Tim at the kitchen table. Tim looked utterly terrified as Clark held up a large plate of eggs. Conner spotted a bowl of fruit on the kitchen table and decided they would have to leave quickly if they were to avoid Clark's avid hospitality.

"Really, I don't mind," Clark said.

"I ate at home, Mr. Kent,"

"Please call me Clark."

"Ok Tim, I'm ready to go."

Tim slipped by Clark before he could be guilted into breakfast, and Conner followed him to the door.

"Conner, you need a hat, it's freezing out," Clark said, still holding a plate.

"I'll be fine."

"You'll get a cold."

Tim was smiling when Conner finally shut the door behind them, and locked it.

"He's nice," Tim said, and he sounded like he hadn't expected Clark. Which, to be fair, most kids didn't expect Clark because Clark was exactly what Pixar movies taught you Dad's were supposed to be and nothing like any real parent Conner had met.

"And you're a stalker. What are you even doing here?"

Tim crossed his arms and looked Conner up and down. "Last night Bruce told me never to speak to you again."

"Oh."

Tim shrugged it off. "But you still owe me answers. And seeing as I don't know where Jason is and know better than to try and find out, I figured I get them."

The sudden grim topic and lack of sleep both made it hard for Conner to figure out what to say.

"I'm sure he'll be back." He tried.

"Yeah?"

"I used to run away all the time." He decided to leave out the one time he ran away to a completely different state for obvious reasons.

"He does this sometimes," Tim admitted, "But usually there isn't a killer on the loose and usually he isn't quite so mad...I think this past year has been rough."

They walked down the steps, but as Conner tried to turn towards the direction of the school, Tim grabbing him by the shoulder and steered him in the other direction, towards a pretty red sports car parked on the street.

"Way to keep it on the down low." Conner said.

"What? I thought I'd give you a ride."

"You didn't strike me as a sports car type."

"I have a motorcycle," Tim said, which while equally preposterous to Conner, was clearly meant to illustrate how Tim was totally the kind of guy who'd drive around in a sports car.

The car was manufactured by Waynetech. It had the low to the ground leather seats of a sportscar and an incredible amount of buttons on the dash. Tim looked more excited about showing Conner the car than almost anything they had done together in the last four weeks.

"Bruce got it for me because he felt bad about my dad," Tim said, "I mean, not in a weird way. God that was an awful way to put it. You know what I mean."

And Conner laughed and slipped into the passenger seat. He did know what Tim meant. Lex had gotten him Krypto right after Clark left for the same misguided reasons.

"So what answers are you looking for?" Conner asked, as Tim started the car.

"You want breakfast before school? I know a place that's fast and they have wifi. We can study for the pop quiz in English."

"There's a quiz in English today?"

"And then we can talk."

Tim, it turned out, had supernatural knowledge of every teacher's habits. Mrs. Bruner liked to give pop quizzes every second Tuesday after a test. Ms. Isley would be giving them more worksheets in preparation for the state exam, and Coach Scott would likely just drill them for the annual fitness evaluation.

"You're a creep," Conner said. "You're a stalkerish creep."

"I pay attention."

They both sat in Tim's car in the school parking lot. Tim had the heat on blast and they had picked up breakfast from a crepe place that hadn't even looked up when Tim walked in the door, just handed him an order full of chocolate creme filled pastries and shooed him away. Conner had always liked sweets, but Tim's sweet tooth took him by surprise.

"Chocolate isn't breakfast," Conner told him, as he dug into his own fruit filled crepe. Tim shrugged.

"Whatever you say. Now, for questions."

Conner couldn't help it. He laughed. "Sorry. I just do not understand. I'm completely normal. I don't even know how you could have questions. I mean really. You get how this is ridiculous, right?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I get to ask whatever I like right?"

"Sure."

"Nothing's off limits?"

"I said sure."

Tim rolled his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight and Conner braced himself for whatever invasive nonsense Tim would come up with.

"What's your favorite color?"

If Tim's goal was to irritate the ever living hell out of Conner, he was succeeding. After thirty minutes of sitting in the car, Tim had worked his way through what Conner suspected was a pre-prepared list of questions, which included favorite colors, his birthday, his favorite food. By the time they were done with breakfast students had started showing up. The busses pulled up to the front of the school and released teenagers onto the sidewalk.

And they all stared as they walked past. Conner did his best to play nonchalant, but Tim didn't help by generally looking like a supermodel.

"You'd think they'd have something better to look at," Conner muttered.

"Don't worry about it," Tim said.

But Conner did worry. He worried as he walked into school with Tim Drake Wayne pretty much glued to his side. Because people talked, and the last thing he needed was to wind up in some headline for Lex to see.

"Where's your first class?"

"English. Do you plan on walking me to every class?"

"It's my day for questions. Yes."

Tim walked him to English and Conner began to doubt that Tim fully understood what their thing, whatever it was, looked like to other people. Buying him breakfast, walking him to class, showing up in the most conspicuously colored car ever. It was all rather sweet in a creepy, stalkery, socially awkward kind of way.

Stephanie beamed at him as he took his seat in class and Conner knew for certain he was screwed.

"So Tim Drake, huh?"

"Shut up."

"You know, I'm almost offended. He's my ex and you didn't even ask."

Cassie, who would normally ignore the gossip in favor of paying attention, had turned fully around in her seat while Mrs. Bruner called attendance.

"You know it's not that," Conner said.

"Just calling it how I see it, Kent. Be careful.

He grumbled, but had to relent as Mrs. Bruner called the class to attention for a pop quiz.

Conner tried texting Jason during class as a way to distract from the fact Tim met him at every bell. While he kind of enjoyed the company, it meant all his other friends kept their distance. He caught Stephanie, more than once, making obscene hand gestures with Bart behind his back and at one point Jaime told him "Good luck."

"I don't need luck."

"That's the spirit."

"There's nothing here. I don't need luck because I'm no — I don't care what Stephanie said."

Tim seemed somehow immune to this.

"You're making it really hard for me to fly under the radar," Conner told him when Tim walked him from Spanish to math.

"When were you under the radar?"

"Before you started walking me to class."

Tim looked puzzled, and he tilted his head, as he looked Conner up and down. "Didn't three separate people ask you to homecoming? That's hardly under the radar."

"You don't think it's weird that Tim Wayne is suddenly hanging out with a nobody?"

"...It's my turn to ask—"

"The questions. I know."

Tim's ability to dance around the subject of Jason was remarkable and aided by the fact everytime Conner tried to ask him something he'd be reminded of their deal. Tim seemed to be taking it literally.

Conner had known that the extra attention from a Wayne would make him the subject of a lot of attention. But the full impact of it hit him at lunch. He walked into the cafeteria and people either openly stared, or pointedly didn't. Conner saw his friends huddled at a table. Unusually, Duke, Cass, and Damian had all taken seats with them.

This left Tim sitting alone at table that really could have fit four or five more. Leave it to idiot high schoolers to make Conner's life their prime time tv. He thought about turning and just eating in the library. He wondered if people would start saying they'd broken up. Not that they were dating. Not that anyone seemed to care they weren't dating.

He sighed and grabbed lunch, then took a seat across from Tim who kept his nose buried in a schoolbook.

"I think we need to lay down some ground rules," Conner said.

Tim looked up, bright blue eyes hidden behind dark frames. Conner could tell, from the subtle tensing of his shoulders and the way he gazed too steadily back up at him that he made Tim nervous. He filed it away and marveled at how quickly he'd come to be able to read Tim's mood.

"Ground rules?"

"Yeah," Conner said, "because we obviously need them."

Tim thought this over, then nodded, closing his book and giving Conner his full attention. "What do you suggest?"

"One," Conner counted off on his fingers, "You cannot, absolutely cannot, tell my Dad. In fact don't tell anyone. The fewer people who know the better and I cannot risk getting in trouble."

"You didn't strike me as someone who worried too much about that kind of thing," Tim said, and there was no mistaking the sulk in his voice.

"Two," Conner said, "no more lying to me. It's cool if you've got like, a private life or whatever but I don't really like feeling like I'm going crazy because my friends are lying to me."

"Three. No cops. Ever. I don't do cops."

"What about Dick."

Conner stuttered, "No cops that aren't related to you then. And four, I want everything at school to go back to normal."

Conner tried to eat, but instead just waited in silence after he finished his list. Tim seemed to be thinking it over quite seriously.

"What do you mean normal?"

Conner gestured to the far side of the room, where Duke looked happily engaged in conversation with Jaime and Damian sulked at the far end of the table next to Cassie.

"That wasn't my idea. It's your friends who are insufferable."

"Excuse me?"

"They think we're dating so they're trying to give us space."

"Don't be ridiculous."

They went back to eating in silence.

"I'll tell my family to sit with me tomorrow. Like normal. You can sit with us…"

"That would just draw more attention."

"Does the idea of people knowing we hang out bother you that much?"

Conner paused. It hadn't occurred to him Tim might interpret it that way, and he tried to think of the best way to explain that all Conner ever wanted in life was complete and utter normalcy. That the Wayne's, while fantastic, and interesting, and fun, and exciting, were also a one way ticket to getting in the tabloids or trouble. Either of which would land him back in a house full of cameras.

"I like hanging out with you I just…"

"Don't want people to see it?"

"I didn't say that."

"It's fine," Tim said, then didn't speak to him for the rest of lunch.

Conner knew he had somehow upset Tim. He couldn't blame him, but it did make Chemistry a little bit rough. Trying to get Tim to pass the vial of ambiguous liquid when Tim seemed determined not to talk to him (and also to pout which was unfair) was nigh impossible.

"When I said I wanted things to go back to normal, this isn't exactly what I meant," Conner said. And Tim frowned.

The only saving grace was that Gym was right after Chemistry. Conner desperately wanted the hour of distraction.

Coach Scott had them run laps and got a game of capture the flag started before pulling Conner aside.

"How have you been doing Conner?"

"Fine Coach Scott."

"You coming to practice tonight?"

"I planned on it."

"Listen, not to get your hopes up, but I've been talking to the other coaches about the JV team. You're more responsible than half the current players anyways-"

It took a minute for Conner to wholly process what Scott was saying.

"-Anyways. It's a damn waste to have you out there and not on the team so, consider yourself second string."

Seemingly done with the conversation, Scott walked off leaving Conner mildly confused.

It was technically a win, he supposed.

Tim was waited on the bleachers all of practice. The sun from the morning had slowly faded into an indisputable grey, and Tim huddled at one end of the football field with an AP English book and a permanent scowl.

"He does not look happy to be here," Jackson remarked during warm ups. Jackson was on the varsity team but the sudden addition of Conner to the JV practice field a few weeks ago had given them both a chance to get a little more familiar.

Jackson didn't talk much, which Conner greatly appreciated.

"He never looks happy," Conner grumbled.

Jackson smiled slyly, "You would know-?"

"Why are high schoolers like this?" Conner asked instead of humoring him with an answer.

"You must admit, it's the best gossip they've had to chew on since prom. I for one, am grateful to you and the Wayne's."

The varsity coach started yelling something at the other end of the field, and Coach Scott stalked over, apparently unhappy with the other's coaching methodologies. Jackson grimaced and give Conner a curt nod before jogging off to his side of the field.

After practice Tim drove Conner home in unbearable silence. Conner shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he tried to figure out the best way to let Tim know it really wasn't personal. It was Tim who broke first.

"Look," Tim said as they pulled up outside Conner's tiny, two story apartment building, "I get it ok? It's not like- I wasn't always a Wayne so I understand not wanting to- or rather wanting to fly under the radar. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I didn't think you'd mind. You didn't seem like you minded earlier."

"When?" Conner asked, a little miffed Tim had taken the opportunity to apologize first.

"I don't know. With Jason. At the mall. I guess I thought-" Tim chanced a glance over at Conner and stuttered to a halt.

"What, Tim?"

"Nothing." Tim said, this time not making eye contact.

They sat, low rumble of the car motor the only sound between them.

Conner's thoughts raced in the silence. He thought about Tim, about Jason, about the last few weeks, and sighed.

"What's the point of asking questions if you aren't even going to ask the ones you really want to?" Conner asked.

Tim flushed and continued to avoid eye contact. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Conner smiled a little, "You don't. Never. I'm not good with being the center of attention that's all. But you can ask me anything. Swear on my mother's life, remember?"

"Is your mother even alive?"

"I don't know."

Tim nodded, like he expected that answer. "Do you know her at all?"

"No. Clark didn't want to make things hard for her. She didn't want me. That's all."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be. I'm used to it." Tim didn't say anything else for a moment so Conner nudged him. "Tim, ask your questions."

"Back when we first met, you said you had a foster dad. What happened?"

Conned reached down and adjust his seat, reclining as far back as the car would let him. He had a feeling they would be here a while.

"Rex. His name was Rex. I met him one of the many times I ran away from home. When he said he had a business opportunity lined up in Honolulu I asked to go with him. He had a daughter named Roxy. She's a couple years older than me and I think she maybe always knew I needed someone watching out for me. She may as well be my sister. She goes to MU now. Studying forensics.

"You never mentioned her." Tim said quietly. And Conner realized for the first time that of all his friends, Tim would probably understand his complicated feelings towards adopted family the most.

"You'd love her. I hope you meet some day." And he meant it. Roxy would probably love Tim too, what with his responsibility. "When Rex took me to Hawaii we ended up living on the opposite side of the island from Honolulu. The damn "business" opportunity was a run down tourist trap"

"Eventually it wasn't enough and Rex got up to trouble. Sold drugs on the side, no big deal. But he's an idiot, and even dumber with money. He stole from whoever he was selling for. And got arrested more than once for various things. Soliciting. Public disruption. Whatever. The last time he just skipped town and, well, Roxy and I haven't seen him since."

Tim was silent for a while after Conner finished. He could almost see the way Tim was fitting this new information into whatever mental file he kept on Conner.

"And he...was good to you?"

"He wasn't terrible," Conner said with a grin as he remembered Rex and wild nights by fires they made using broken furniture and lessons on picking up women that never worked.

"Are you worried?"

"Yeah but...can I tell you something I haven't told anyone?"

Tim nodded.

"I hope he doesn't come back. I hope he disappears forever and Roxy forgets about him so she can focus on school. If he were still here she'd be with him still, trying to take care of him, so I hope he doesn't…"

Conner trailed off. He'd never said it before and suddenly felt like a piece of shit for voicing it. It was true, but Rex had done so much for Conner. Had brought him someplace Lex couldn't get to him, had given him freedom, and also Roxy, and Conner had to be a terrible person for wishing he'd never show his face again.

"It's ok," Tim said, "Parents are complicated."

"You're telling me."

"He isn't the reason you got arrested though?" Tim asked.

Conner had figured this question would come. He still wasn't sure he could answer it, but now that he had started talking he found it easier to keep going (or maybe harder to stop, he couldn't tell).

"No. That was Kay."

Sometimes Conner wondered why no one had ever stopped him. Why they had let him run off with Kay when it was so obvious what she was doing.

'Hey pup. What are you doin' in a place like this?'

He tried not to be bitter.

"Kay was a stripper."

...it was his birthday and Conner had never been more disgusted. The bar was too dark and smelled terrible. But Rex kept shoving drinks at him and it was hard to leave with the other man calling over a girl or a drink or an entree every five minutes.

"Kay was gorgeous. And tall. She took one look at me and I guess decided — "

— you look like you wanna have some real fun.' she said with a smile. She looked over at Rex, then smirked down at Conner. 'Wanna get out of here?'

Conner had never agreed to anything so fast in his life.

"At the time I was dating this girl Tana — so I just, I don't know, started being with Kay? I guess you would call it dating but it was more than that. Or less, I guess, depending on your perspective. Roxy hated her but like I said, I'm kind of stupid. Then she started to get a little… wild? But I guess I never really thought we were doing anything that bad, ya know? I was always in trouble anyways, I didn't really see the difference. The first time she really freaked me out, we were actually at home. Some guy broke in. Kay lost her shit. A lot."

The cop didn't even pause to hear Conner out. Instead he found himself on the ground, while someone shouted. Kay cried on the steps.

If you leave I'll get worse.

"What finally did it though, ironically, it wasn't even that bad. The local cops were trying to get Kay for a long time and they wound up pinning a bunch of car thefts on us both because I basically went down for everything she did anyways. I was out walking to clear my head when they arrested me."

"I ended up getting a slap on the wrist, a probationary deal where I agreed to attend school for a few months and say I'm sorry, then go live with Clark."

Conner decided to leave out the fact that Kay, the last time he saw her, was speeding away in a car she stole at a hundred miles an hour. And the fact the light punishment was likely Lex's doing but emotionally exhausted as he was, if Tim asked he probably would tell him.

But Tim didn't ask. He had placed the car in park and brought his knees up to his chest while he listened thoughtfully to Conner's story. Having just born his soul to the guy, Conner felt mildly embarrassed. "I told you it was kind of lame."

"Hardly," Tim said with a bit of a huff, "I guess I'm just trying to figure out…"

"Yeah?" Conner asked, when it was apparent Tim was going to just get lost in his thoughts again.

Tim's eyes hyper focused on Conner again. "I have one more question."

"Shoot."

"Would you have gone to Homecoming if I asked you?"

"No."

"Oh," and Tim deflated in on himself, suddenly seeming half his size and not making eye contact. Conner realized his mistake almost immediately.

"I mean, because I was out that week. I couldn't have, it didn't matter who…"

Tim shrugged a little. "No, it's okay. I wasn't...I was just, it was stupid to ask. I mean, we were just talking about— you've got a lot going on I shouldn't have asked like that."

Conner felt physically ill. Because in his head he could almost perfectly imagine what Tim was telling himself. That Conner didn't like him. That he wasn't special to Conner. That Conner would be able to walk away from him, from whatever their little friendship was and wouldn't think of Tim ever again.

"No, Tim listen," Conner didn't consider himself particularly brave, or good at expressing himself, so he reached out, put his hands on Tim's shoulder, and after an awkward pause where Tim jolted and Conner almost reconsidered, he pulled Tim into a hug.

It felt awkward, and the divider between the seats jabbed into his side, but Tim relented after only a moment and Conner didn't let go no matter how weird the angle. He didn't know if Tim would get it. After all, he barely understood himself how his own brain worked sometimes. But he really hoped Tim would understand.

"You can keep walking me to class, if you want."

Conner heaved a great sigh as he tromped up the stairs of the rickety building. He had never been so un-smooth in his life. Where had his social skills gone? How did he manage to simultaneously word vomit the last four years of his life and manage to not even get close to expressing to Tim how utterly ok he was with the idea of going to homecoming with him?

The thought alone made his head kind of swim so he tried to shake it out. Lord knew it would keep him awake all night.

His legs twinged from practice. Coach Scott had been extra brutal on them today because of Conner's tentative addition to the team. As a sub, he was reminded. But he'd get a jersey and a place on the bench which was more than he'd ever had in his life. Part of him desperately wanted to take a picture and send it to Lex. He resisted mostly because Lex was terrible and any more of satisfaction he might gain was far outweighed by the general misery accompanying any conversation with the man. At best he would send him a formal transcript or college application or something to show he was behaving.

Conner quietly dropped his bag beside the front door, shook off his jacket, and had just started yanking off his shoes when a head popped up from where it had previously been concealed on the couch.

"Jason!"

"Hey."

"What on earth-"

"Don't tell your Dad I'm here," Jason hissed. He vaulted over the back of the couch, socked feet barely making a sound. "Or mine, for that matter."

Jason sported a shiny new black eye and day old clothes but otherwise seemed almost cheerful.

Conner took a deep, steadying breath. "Do you have any idea how much-"

-how much we worried about you?" Roxy said. She scowled as she grabbed him by the chin, inspecting the bloody scrape across his forehead-

-Conner shook off the deja vu and sighed. "So you staying for dinner?"