not_the_s | (no subject)

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Clark was on the island. It had been a day since Lex had told him and he was still having a hard time processing it. Clark Kent was on the island and not his pseudo-parent. No, he could have dealt with that. No, this one was the Clark freaking Kent who had been on the island before. The one who had all but ignored his existence and made him feel like crap. That Clark Kent.

He wasn't sure what he felt except for the fact that he in no way wanted to see Clark. Oh, he knew it was inevitable, but he would be satisfied with delaying that sometime for as long as possible.

He was hurrying out of the kitchen, sandwich in hand, and dropped it when he saw a familiar head of hair.

"Tim?" Oh god, he wasn't sure if he wanted Tim to be here or...wait. Tim wouldn't remember anything, would he?

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Tim is on his way back out--having made the careful, irritable trip back to the clothes box for a shirt that will hopefully last him longer than an hour, this time--when the voice stops him.

Even more than the name, it's the voice, and it's rare enough that he hears it these days that he stops, weight on the crutches to spare his ankle--it's not that bad, but he can hear Alfred telling him how it will get worse--staring up the hall at his other best friend.

At some point, seeing Kon and Bart is going to stop feeling like they've come back from the dead, even if it will never stop feeling like they left, and Tim shakes himself once, injured foot twitching before he pushes forward. "Kon--you. Bart said you were here, um.

"Hi," he finishes lamely, almost choking on a dry laugh.

"Hi? Hi? That's all you..." Kon shakes his head and no. No, he doesn't care what might have happened with the other Tim. If this one doesn't remember it, then it's fine. Great, even, because the first thing Kon does is run up to him, wrap his arms around him, and yank Tim away from the crutches and into a breath-stealing hug.

"You have no idea," he mutters. "No idea at all."

Of course it figures that Tim shows up when he does. Right when Clark appears. Right when he needs his best friend most.

Bart has prepared him for the lack of inhuman strength, but even without his meta abilities, Kon is more than strong enough to hug him right up off the floor.

It's probably for the best that he doesn't, since he doesn't seem to be holding back. Two years, Tim thinks. He's been human for two years, and he can't imagine having to--start over, like that. "I'll have more to say, I promise," he says, letting the crutches dangle precariously from his arms as he does his best to brace a hand on Kon's ribs while he's still trapped in the embrace. He doubts Kon would appreciate him thinking about his loss in a moment like this.

"I just need a moment to adjust. And breathe."

"Dude, do you even know how long it's been since I've seen you? Of course you don't." There's a little bit of desperation as he asks the next question. "You don't, do you?" Okay, so maybe he'd prefer living with a Tim who doesn't remember the part where he'd been jealous about a relationship he'd only heard of and tried to seduce Tim's ex. ...who happened to be Bart. He's glad Bart doesn't remember, either.

"No, of course not. Stupid. Okay, so have you seen anyone here, yet? Bart's here and Cissie and, uh, Cassie." Okay, the less said about that right now, the better. "Lex is here, Lex Luthor, but he's kind of not the one we remember. It's like he's younger or something and not really evil." He doesn't add the yet.

Then he sighs and drops his head. "And Clark's here. A younger one. One you'd probably think is me."

Tim arches a doubtful brow at the assertion: he's trained Kon, lived with him--known him for long enough that he trusts himself not to mistake him for the original last son of Krypton.

Clark, especially a young Clark, isn't likely to pick him up and squeeze him on sight.

"It's been a significant amount of time for me as well," he says, shifting in Kon's hold until he's approaching something like physical comfort. "I--I met them, but nobody told me how much you actually know about the state of things at home."

"Oh, I died and came back to life," Kon says as if it means nothing. It means a lot more than nothing, but he's still not sure how to process something that will happen to him eventually. It's not as if he's really going to remember any of it, right?

"And Bart was old and now he's young again. And you...huh. I don't know much about what happened with you. The other Tim never really said." He gives Tim a wry look. "Funny, that, don't you think? You, not talking about yourself."

Tim stiffens in Kon's arms, and he'll deal with the consequences on his ankle if Kon drops him, but it's suddenly not possible to be comfortable in the embrace. To try to talk to Kon about these things when he's that close. "I'd like to be put down," he says, letting himself stay stiff, stay still, and ask instead of moving to disable the grip.

He doesn't know how Kon can say it like that, or--he can speculate as to how, can understand enough of Kon's personality that it isn't shocking, but it's still hard to deal with. "You're back, when I'm from. Somewhat recently, but--when are you from?"

"What? Oh. Whoops." He sets Tim down carefully and sighs when he mentions being from somewhere...somewhen. "You remember the whole Superman and Batman us in the future? When Bart sent us back to the wrong time? Yeah, that's from about when I am. Was."

So, technically he's not supposed to know about dying, but the gigantic gold statue is enough to clue him in.

He wonders how much Kon really knows about that future and how it came about--it probably depends on how much Bart knows, divided by how much Bart finds important, multiplied by the probability of anything on this island triggering one of Bart's tangential info-dumps.

Meaning Tim has no idea, and he shuts down the thought with a slow blink and tilt of his head that, on anyone else, would have been a full shake. He's going to start coping any minute now, really. "I've placed myself somewhat ahead of Bart in the timeline, I think that places me further along than all of you." It's disconcerting and comforting at once: possessing the most information is one of the few things to really put him at ease.

Not that it's doing him much good today.

Kon shrugs. "Okay. It's not like I care, you know? You're just the same Tim as I know. Well, taller. As long as you're not taller than I am, then we're fine." He grins a little at Tim and wraps an arm around his shoulder.

"Okay, now spill. What happened with you and the crutches? Just how much, exactly, did I miss while I was gone?"

Tim shifts his weight onto his good foot and fidgets the crutches at a steeper angle, giving himself a reason to look down. Kon's presence, his disregard for personal space--these aren't new things, but it's strange to have them again.

Strange enough to make him look away, because he's not the same Tim that Kon knew as a Titan. "I'm not a Titan anymore," he says, and the turn of his mouth is rueful when he looks at Kon again. "I'm not even Robin, anymore. I do a lot on my own these days." Or at least, by the standards of a team of superheroes: he's not sure he'd get half as far without Tam, Pru, and Lonnie.

"You'll always be a Titan. I thought you knew that." Kon gives him a sharp look. Even the people who have moved on to bigger and better, like Dick when he was with the Outsiders. Even they were still Titans. You didn't just stop being one."

"And I promise that you'll always be my Robin, no matter who's stepped into your place." Clearly someone has stepped into it if he's not Robin anymore.

"That's not--" what he'd meant, but he had forgotten. Dick is. Dick is Batman now, and Batman really isn't a Titan. Tim never could decide if Red Robin is either, but it's good to know Kon still thinks so.

The Titans are Cassie's now, and he'd make an awful crack about losing them in the divorce if it wouldn't be awful, and completely nonsensical to them all. "Thank you, I guess I just haven't felt much like anyone's Robin today."

Shifting in Kon's grip, he steps back out of it and shifts his weight again, leans on the crutches. "The crutches were part of a disguise when I arrived, but I managed to actually twist my ankle. It'll be a few days before I'm up for our brand of adventure."

Kon snorts. "As if there is our brand of adventure on the island. Except sometimes. But even then, it's not as if I have my powers or anything anymore." He almost pouts at that. If there's anything - not anyone, because that's different - anything that he misses most, it's his powers. He can pretend that he misses the Zesti more and stuff like that, but really...powers. All the way.

"Hey, you should come flying with me sometime. I...the other you gave me hang gliders."

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