Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Timothy Jackson Drake died from a car accident at the tender age of 15 after taking his parents Porsche out for a joy ride while they were abroad.

Or at least, that's what the news reported.

In reality Tim Drake died cold and alone.

Bleeding out on the floor of a one of the only places where he felt safe.

Murdered by a man he had once looked up to.

He would much rather have gone out in a reckless blaze of glory like the media seemed to think.

Really anything would have been better than being killed by a man wearing tights and an obviously home-made Robin costume.

Spewing some nonsense about how he was going to "clip another bird's wings to teach Batman a lesson."

Some lesson that was.

Killing the kid who kept your dad and legacy alive all for some C rate revenge scheme.

What a pathetic death.

And the best part was how just a couple of weeks later; Bruce forgave Jason and welcomed him back into the family with open arms.

It's funny.

How easily people forget about you.

He's been haunting the manor for years now.

Ever since Jason killed him.

Tim isn't sure why he's attached to the manor rather than the Tower where he had died, or even his own house where he had grown up.

But instead, he's been trapped inside the walls of another family.

Watching as he death his covered up as a rich kid asking for trouble.

Watching as Jason rejoins the Bats, despite having murdered him in cold blood.

Watching as a silent girl, a broken boy, and a bright signal join the 'ragtag' group of vigilantes.

Watching as they become a family.

Watching as they never even mention the third Robin who was killed by one of their own.

Watching as he doesn't even get so much as a memorial case.

Watching as pictures of all of these other people begin to fill the halls of Wayne Manor.

Watching…

Watching…

Watching…

…

In some folklore, ghosts have an object that they're attached to.

Something important to them in their past life that keeps them tethered to the mortal plane.

If only such a thing existed, then maybe he wouldn't have to suffer so much.

Even having his item be thrown away and ending up stuck in a landfill as a result would be less painful than this.

Secret was never like that though.

But then again, she was also a bit more corporeal.

And she didn't age.

Meanwhile no one could see Tim but himself, and when he did see himself in a mirror or some kind of reflective surface, he looked his age.

He should be almost nineteen now, and the image staring back at him showed that.

Tim Drake, technically eighteen despite his life ending at the ripe old age of fifteen.

In fact, it was almost the anniversary of his death.

Three years of desperately trying to find out why he was still there and how to either come back or move on.

Three years of dead ends and dwindling hope.

Three years of attempting every possible kind of communication with the outside world, only to be denied.

Only to return to watching.

It's ironic.

In a way.

After all, Tim spent most of his life watching the bats.

Following behind them on silent feet with a camera bag in hand.

Capturing all of the moments where Robin was magic, and Batman was a father.

Maybe others would have taken action photos as the vigilante duo were fighting the rogue of week, but Tim preferred the more domestic scenes.

The ones with Robin hiding under Batman's cape, or the two eating takeout on a rooftop.

Now those photos were likely collecting dust under some floorboard back in Drake Manor.

A shrine to family he naively longed for and never got to have.

…

When Jason died, it was explosive.

The Bat made sure that all of the criminals in Gotham would suffer as his son had.

Even if they were just petty thieves.

He was more violent.

More volatile.

Lashing out at the world for taking his son.

While simultaneously hoping that the world would retaliate.

That he would be able to reunite with Jason in the afterlife.

At the time, Tim couldn't stand to see his hero like that.

Slowly destroying himself over the death of his son.

In that moment he had realized that Bruce needed something to protect.

Something to keep him from self-destructing.

Batman needed a Robin.

But Dick wouldn't go back and even when he did try, it didn't end well.

So, Tim took it on himself to wear the red, green, and yellow.

To become the light to Batman's darkness and save the man from himself.

He often regrets that decision now.

Thinks that he should have just let the man destroy himself.

Or even just sent all of his proof of the man's identity to Gotham PD and let Gordon sort it out himself.

At least then he would still be alive.

Although Tim never would have met his team if he hadn't become Robin.

The only people who ever truly cared about him.

Well…

That's not exactly true.

He knows that his civilian friends, Callie and Ives, both cared about him.

Read in the paper about how Ives didn't believe he would die like that.

How he said that Tim may have been rich, but he wasn't reckless.

If only he knew the half of it…

He wonders where all of his friends are now.

Probably in college.

Studying.

Meeting new people.

Going to events, to parties.

Taking up odd jobs on the side to pay everything off.

Maybe even studying abroad.

Tim has no idea if any of his friends from high school are even in Gotham anymore.

But mostly, he wonders how his team is doing.

The papers laying around told the sparse details of both Impulse and Superboy's subsequent deaths and resurrections not too long ago.

If only he could use the Batcomputer.

While he's able to look at the files people have pulled up on the Batcomputer, he isn't able to search anything himself.

And the Bats typically only search for Gotham related crimes on the computer.

His team has likely forgotten about him too.

It's not like he was the most popular member after all.

Not with all of the rules that Batman imposed on him.

Besides, none of them have even come to visit the manor since he's died.

…

Not until today that is.

Chapter Text

He isn't exactly sure why everyone is here, just that something big happened so now all the heroes from both the Justice League and Titans are meeting in the cave.

Although, if he had to guess…

They're probably discussing ways to get Bruce back from the time-stream.

The older man had fought Darkseid a couple years back and had been blasted with his omega particles.

Everyone had assumed he was dead.

They had a body and everything.

But Tim knew better.

He knew that while the chances were slim, omega particles had the properties of being able to transport someone throughout time.

Then when the Darkest Night happened he heard about how Bruce's body was supposedly odd, confirming his suspicions.

Not that he could do anything about it.

Not that he would…

Tim takes a spot in the middle of the long meeting table where all of the Justice League and Titans are seated, and starts rifling through their case notes.

The odd part of his situation is that he can interact with inanimate objects, but also not.

It's almost like he can touch the after image of things.

He can pick up papers and books and even write things, but he's the only one who is able to see it.

To everyone else, the objects are untouched.

Then after about an hour or so, everything goes back to how it should be for him as well.

It's like some weird time lag where he can do things for a little bit before the glitch gets fixed, and he has to grab the book he was reading back off the shelf.

Technology is the only thing this doesn't work for.

No matter what he does, he just isn't able to use a computer or any other device.

His current hypothesis on this is that because computers are constantly processing new information in real time, the "glitch" just doesn't work. It's the same thing if someone else picks up a piece of paper that Tim was holding, the paper will suddenly disappear from his grip as reality "updates."

So he does his best to scan through the papers before the meeting gets started in earnest and people start reaching for them.

Tim only gets a minute or so, but in that time he's able to glean that the Justice League have located where Bruce is in the time-stream and they have a plan to extract him.

From there he just sits back and takes in all of the faces around him.

The main members of the Justice League have hardly seemed to change at all in the years since he's seen them. Hal seems to have a few more grey hairs, but other than that they're all exactly how he remembers them.

Meanwhile the Titans as well as his own team have all aged and grown into their roles as heroes. He can tell how much they've matured in the few years since his death and is proud that his friends and teammates seem to be doing well.

Although, he can't help but notice how Kon in particular seems to keep glancing in his direction.

As if the Kryptonian can see him…

Except that should be impossible…

No one has ever seen Tim before, and Clark isn't acting like anything is wrong so it can't be Kryptonian thing.

But throughout the meeting, Tim keeps catching Kon's stare out of the corner of his eyes.

About halfway into the debrief, John Constantine suddenly stands up with an annoyed huff.

"Alright, I can't take this anymore. Robin- no not you brat, Robin come with me." The disgruntled British magician orders, staring directly at him.

Tim sits dumbfounded for a couple of seconds making sure that, 'yes he is talking to the ghost sitting on the table.' Before quickly standing and following after the man as he stalks further into the cave.

Constantine leads him to where all of the miscellaneous trinkets from the Bat's fights are stored. It takes him a couple of seconds of digging through one of the many boxes, ignoring the protests of the Bats and other heroes, as he pulls out a small piece of plastic that Tim instantly recognizes as a stylized R.

But not just any R…

No, that was the insignia that he wore on his suit.

His Robin symbol.

"This is yours right?" The man questions, waving the R in front of his face as Tim could do nothing but nod his head numbly.

"Good. Superboy! Or whatever your calling yourself nowadays, get your ass over here!." Constantine calls, not even looking towards table as he begins to draw some sigils on the ground in chalk with his symbol positioned in the middle.

Tim watches as Kon jumps at being addressed before hesitantly making his way over.

"It's Supernova." The younger hero corrects as soon as he gets close enough, and begins to exam the magician's work.

Going still as his eyes land on the small R in the middle.

"What do you think you're doing with that." Kon practically growls, grabbing Constantine by the collar of his trench coat in the span of a couple of seconds.

"Helping, you twat. You can see him too right? I'm doing a ritual to make so he can interact with our plane of existence an not just be stuck in an eternal purgatory of watching everyone around him. Sound good? Or do you have any more objections?" The magician snarks, brushing off his jacket as Supernova releases him and stumbles back in surprise.

"You mean… He's real? I-I'm not just imagining things?" Kon stutters, locking eyes with Tim as he does.

And Tim…

Tim has no idea what to do.

The only person he's talked to in the last few years has been himself.

And now Kon, one of his best friends, is standing in front of him looking three years older than he last saw him.

Not only that, but he can apparently see Tim.

Tim, who is supposed to be dead.

"Unless we're both on some really good drugs and seeing the same hallucination. You're previously deceased friend is indeed here." Constantine drawls sarcastically, continuing his ritual.

"But then… That's really you Tim?" Kon asks slowly reaching his out towards him.

However, at the mention of his name, the members of the Bats who had been listening from a distance, were immediately on their feet and demanding to know what was going on.

"Dammit kid, you couldn't have waiting a bit longer before opening your loud mouth!" The magician swears muttering about how he doesn't want to have the Bats on his ass for this, as he furiously scribbles the rest of his spell.

"Alright, hand on the R. Now!" Constantine orders, already grabbing Kon's hand and pushing it onto his symbol in the middle of the sprawling chalk.

As soon as the Kryptonian's palm comes to rest on the R, Tim feels an intense pain tear though his entire being.

It felt like he was simultaneously being ripped apart and put back together.

In the end it becomes too much and his legs begin to collapse underneath him as the world fades out of focus.

Only to find himself caught in a familiar pair of arms when the dizziness subsides.

It was a strange and foreign feeling.

Something that Tim hasn't felt years.

He can't help but to sink into the touch, thinking that he must have finally died.

Because whatever this is couldn't possibly be real.

It's simply too good, and Tim Drake never gets anything good.

So he lets his head rest against the familiar broad chest and soaks in the warmth of the embrace.

Closing his eyes in contentment.

It was nice…

Safe even.

He can't remember the last time he felt safe…

And then the warmth on his back regretfully leaves him, the frost seeping into his skin once again.

Tim presses his body closer to source in protest, wrapping his own arms around them in order to increase the amount of surface area in contact with the heater.

Then what feels like an impossibly warm and soft hand comes and gently grasps his chin, tilting his face upwards.

Tim allows it, slowly blinking his eyes open to find the bright blue eyes of his friend gazing back at him.

He wasn't sure why Kon was in the afterlife since he had just seen him back at the cave, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

This was probably just a recreation of his former best friend made by his conciseness in whatever place his soul has ended up.

Kon looked older.

Stubble lined his chin and cheeks, and he looked more worn than the cocky boy Tim remembered.

His skin was as sun kissed as ever and hair seemed soft and curled. He couldn't help but reach one of his arms up and tangle his fingers in it. The coils felt like velvet between his fingers.

Kon always had been pretty obsessive about his hair…

He likely would never have let Tim do something as intimate as this in reality, something about how the oil on people's hands wasn't good for your hair…

"Tim…" The man spoke, the first sound that registered in his mind since the pain.

His voice was deeper, but strained in way that brought Tim out of his thoughts and back to the situation at hand.

Kon was crying…

Why was his subconscious making this version of Kon cry?

Tim quickly brings his hands up to hold his friend's face, gently brushing the tears out his eyes with his thumbs.

He has no idea what's wrong or how to fix this.

How do you even comfort a figment of your imagination?

"Hey there clone boy." Tim says with a lopsided smile, hoping to snap Kon out of…

Whatever this was.

Kon's eyes widen a fraction before pulling him back into a crushing embrace, practically folding his body over the shorter man.

"I don't… I thought you were dead Rob. I thought I would never see you again. Rao, it's been… What? Three years now? I don't… How? How are you here?" His friend stammers, his hands clutching onto him as if Tim might disappear.

"I feel like I should be the one asking that question, after all it seems a bit weird that an someone who's still alive would show up in the after life." He chuckles, a bit self deprecatingly. He can't help but wonder if him acknowledging the fact that none of this is real will break the illusion.

"Actually…" A startlingly familiar British voice cuts in as a different hand lands on his shoulder.

"I'm afraid you are very much still in the mortal realm." John Constantine continues as a rush of noise suddenly fills Tim's ears and brings him fully into the present moment.

It's loud.

There's a cacophony of shouting and crying all around him, the sounds all reverberating against the walls of the cave and making everything so much louder.

It was all too much.

Way too much too soon.

Tim still didn't fully comprehend what was even going on.

How was he being held if he wasn't dead?

Did Constantine really bring him back?

But… He didn't feel whole.

It felt like he wasn't still wasn't fully there.

Like a part of him was still missing.

In that moment, where everything was just too much and nothing made any sense.

Tim wanted nothing more, than to just disappear.

And as soon as he felt that impulse, the feeling of warmth around him vanished.

Replaced with a cold sort of detachment as a collective gasp as well as more shouts filled the room.

Tim looked up to see Kon grasping at the air around him frantically, as if the other man could no longer touch him.

And that's when Tim realized that he couldn't.

In fact, Kon's hands were even going through him at times.

He stumbles back in shock looking down to find his body transparent once more.

He hadn't even noticed that he had been more solid a couple of seconds ago.

Until now, that is.

"Bloody hell… Why did I even chose to get involved in this?" John groaned beside him in frustration, the British man taking out a pack of cigarettes and and a lighter.

"Everyone just calm down and let me explain? Okay? Especially you ghost boy. Panicking is not going to help you become any more corporeal." The magician sighs as he lights up a cigarette putting it in his mouth, before shoving his lighter and pack back in his pockets.

And Tim tries to clam down.

Really he does.

But now all of these people are looking at him.

Because apparently people can see him now.

And its been three years since anyone has so much as glanced at him, much less talked to him.

So he tries.

Taking in deep breaths to try and calm himself while focusing on his physical form only to find his body flicking in and out of it's sold form.

Chapter Text

"Alright! Here's what we're going to do. You fuckers are going stay over there, while I talk to these two, okay? And if you have any objections, I have no problems with just leaving and taking them with me. So, it's up to you." Constantine announces with a loud clap of his hands.

God why did he have to get involved in this?

Better yet, why the fuck was the soul of a Robin tied down to this place? He knew the gist of how the third Robin died. Attacked by some rogue at the Tower or something like that...

He doesn't know the exact details, okay? It wasn't really his business at the time.

What he does know, is that typically a person has to have a really strong emotional connection to a place in order to get tied to it like this. And even then the soul only stays trapped if they happen to keep strong emotions towards it.

It isn't very often that someone isn't able to move on after a few years.

Usually, souls only stick around for this long if they either really care about their loved ones or they hold a serious grudge against someone.

Of course, this is a special case, as Robin isn't exactly a 'spirit.'

Rather…

John takes another drag of his cigarette, reveling in the burn of smoke in his lungs, before breathing it out.

Rather, he appears to be soul bound to the half Kryptonian.

While soul binding isn't typical of humans, there are certain races where a person will have a "chosen partner." That partner doesn't have to be romantic, per say, but rather just a person who they are meant to 'click' with.

A person who literally shares a soul with them.

Their partner can be of any race, as long as they have what you would call a "soul."

Of course, the sharing of souls can cause some interesting side effects when it does cross races.

For example, since the two are tied together so is their life-span and aging rate. Typically, the species that lives for the shorter amount of time will instead adopt the same aging rate as the one who lives longer.

Souls must also be around the same maturity for a bond to be formed for maximum compatibility.

It's all a rather convoluted system that he personally hasn't looked too much into, only having encountered it a few times. But he does know that the largest thing a soul bond alters is how death impacts a creature.

Usually when a soul bound dies their spirit stays connected to their alive counterpart who should be able to see and interact with them, although not physically.

And since their souls still have a strong and living connection to the mortal plane, they can typically be brought back in some capacity.

Some can be fully revived if they have died recently and can still be shoved back into their bodies.

While others…

Others have to be brought back "incomplete."

A conduit, something that the soul has a strong connection with, is used to ground them in the mortal plane through a ritual. This allows them to take on a more corporeal form and actually interact with outside world.

In this case the conduit acts as their anchor. As long as the conduit is intact they'll be able to remain present and corporeal. Additionally, they can only be harmed if their conduit or the person they are soul bound to is harmed. And in the case of the conduit being destroyed they'll be forced back into their incorporeal state.

However, since they don't have a real physical body with a conduit, they are still able to take on their incorporeal forms. This can be done either consciously or unconsciously in times of great emotion duress where their connection becomes unstable.

The only way for a soul bound to truly die is if the person they're connected too also dies.

So now here he is with a semi-dead kid and the rest of the Justice League staring.

Great.

Just how he wanted to spend his Tuesday.

Thankfully his threat seems to be keeping the heroes at bay for now, but he knows how the bats get.

Especially about one of their own.

"Now that that's taken care of. What questions do you have?" He asks the two dumbfounded young men before him (one of them still trying to remain corporeal) taking another quick puff of his cigarette.

"How about what the fuck is going on? How is Robin here? And why does he keep… flickering? He's not going to like… die again, right?" The half-Kryptonian demands, both confusion and frustration lacing his tone.

John just raises an unimpressed eyebrow at his outburst, noticing how Robin has gone fully incorporeal again.

"What do you think is going on? He's your soul-mate, soul-bound, other half or whatever you Kryptonians call it." Constantine dismisses a bit judgmentally. Honestly, how do you not recognize your soulmate? Especially when he's literally dead and only here due to the bond.

But at the hero's continued confusion, John realizes that he made a fatal assumption.

"God dammit. You don't know what a soulmate is do you?" He sighs in exasperation, shooting a scathing look at Superman.

Of course he also has to explain a soul bond to these two, because no one ever does their bloody job.

"Like in fairy tales?" Robin questions thoughtfully, his head cocked not unlike an inquisitive bird.

"Not exactly… It's a feature that a few races I've met over the years have had. It's a kind of magical attachment where someone will share a soul with some other person who is supposed to act as a natural complement to them. Their soul bound can be any race and a bond is almost always made between two people who's souls are of the same maturity. Usually this means two infants, but my guess is that since you were artificially aged you ended up paired with Robin here." Constantine explains tiredly, glaring at Superman throughout his whole speech.

Superboy, or nova, or whatever, should have known about this years ago.

Really, it should have been one of the first things he learned about Kryptonians.

But instead, John has to explain it because his other half just happened to get killed and be stuck here.

"You mean… I've always been tied to Rob?" Supernova questions, glancing at the young man next to him.

"Yeah. I have no idea how you didn't notice the connection when you first met, or even just throughout your time working together." The magician states with exasperated disbelief.

"Ah… there were some. Um… Complications when we first met." The half-Kryptonian admits awkwardly, a flush creeping up his neck.

"Right… Well, with soul bounds even when they die they're still attached to their partner. So as long as you're alive he'll be here as well. But he'll remain in this incomplete state since his attachment to his physical body is long gone. Instead, this is what will keep him anchored to this plane and give him a corporeal form." He continues, handing the R decal over to the physically present partner.

"And what exactly does that mean?" Batman, well Dick Grayson really, growls stepping forwards.

"I think I made my conditions for my continued cooperation clear. So step down or we leave, boy." Constantine can't help but sneer.

He knows that Dick is a respected hero in his own right, but he's also not actually Batman. And even if he was, John still wouldn't give a fuck. He clearly stated his conditions, so if the other man is going to ignore them, then he has no reason to stick around.

"I think you're forgetting, Constantine, this is my cave. My home. My brother. I have a right to know exactly what is going on." Batman demands, stepping forward with a clear threat to his movement.

"Right. Which is why I said I would leave. Not much of a detective, huh? And I'm sure Robin will tell you anything he wants you to know after our discussion." The magician states, not backing down. He also makes sure to take a long drag of his cigarette and blow smoke in the other's face just to reinforce his point.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he notices Robin glaring daggers at the other man. His fists and jaw clenched as a vein in his neck pulses in anger, and John has no doubts that he's preparing to punch the other man in the face.

And well…

Who is he to get in the way of a family dispute?

So, he just steps back as Robin stalks forward. The younger man's form still invisible to Batman until the last second as he raises his arm and throws what looks to be a devastating punch to the other's face.

John can't help but wince a bit as he watches the older man stumble back in both surprise and from the sheer force of the blow.

"Hah. Me? Your bother? What a fucking joke. You haven't been my brother since you let the man who murdered me back into the family without a second thought. You knew him for what? A couple of years before he died as Robin? A couple of years that you mostly spent ignoring the kid because you thought he replaced you. But suddenly you care about him as soon as he fucking murders me in cold blood in the one place I viewed as safe? Suddenly he's "little wing" and your precious little brother who can do no wrong? What about me Dick? I've been trapped here for years watching your little mockery of a family without being able to say anything. Years of seeing my murderer laughing and having fun with the man who used to call himself my older brother." Robin rants shaking out the hand he had used.

At that moment the current Robin, God this was getting confusing, charged at the kind-of-dead Robin with a katana yelling profanities at him in what seemed to be Arabic.

But the older of the two just made himself incorporeal, letting the boy run through him, before returning to his physical form and knocking the kid down.

Honestly the fact that he had gained control of his physicality so quickly was impressive, if not also a bit concerning.

"Stay out of this brat. This has nothing to do with you." Robin warns, his boot currently standing on the other's back in order to keep him down.

"Hey! Leave the kid alone." Red Hood growls through his voice modulator, now joining the fray.

Although John can see that his posture seems more weary than the brash persona he's trying to display.

"…"

"Leave the kid alone?"

"You mean like how you left me to bleed out in the Tower after beating me to pulp and slitting my throat?" Robin asks with a deadly sort of calm as he picks up the younger Robin's sword, flourishing it at the other vigilante.

Huh…

So that's who killed Robin.

No wonder he was stuck in the manor.

The kid must have been holding one hell of a grudge.

Then Robin disappears and Constantine watches in fascination as he flickers in and out of existence around the Red Hood, leaving slash marks along the other's body as he goes.

Honestly, John didn't even know that he could keep inanimate objects with him when he turns incorporeal, but he supposes that it makes sense when you think about the fact that he's still wearing the clothes that he died in. Although the Robin uniform seems to have grown with him oddly enough… Likely just due to some magical nonsense.

Magic could be weird like that.

A gust of wind blows past him, putting out his cigarette as a consequence, and suddenly the half-Kryptonian was half folded over Robin.

The positioning similar to when the two had first reunited with the exception that the larger man was now holding Robin from behind.

"Let me go Kon." Robin spits, still glaring at Red Hood as if he was the one with laser vision and could burn the man down to ashes where he stood.

Even as the other is currently bleeding out from multiple wounds.

"I know. I know he deserves it, but let's just take a second to figure all of this out before jumping straight to revenge alright? Me, you, Cass, and Bart. We'll all go somewhere away from here and just talk everything over, alright?" Supernova speaks gently, attempting to calm the shorter man down before things got any more violent.

"And what about you guys, huh?" Robin snaps, using his newfound powers to easily slip out of the other's grip.

"You all left me too. Not a single one of you ever came to the manor in all the years that I've been dead. Did you even care to come to my funeral?" The shorter man continues, vitriol spilling from his lips.

"Rob…" The half-Kryptonian begs, reaching out to touch the other's arm only to be met with air.

"Don't 'Rob' me. Tell me Kon, what was so important that none of you ever thought to come here throughout the years?" Robin challenges, his posture rigid with defiance.

"Because they killed you!" Supernova shouts, finally seeming to break as the sound echoes throughout the otherwise silent cave.

"Because they killed you, and they threw you a shitty funeral with a generic ass gravestone, and I couldn't stand to be around them, okay? I'm sorry that you were stuck here Rob, really, but I didn't know that. I didn't know and I couldn't trust myself to be around any of these people." He rants, his distaste for the Bats clear in his voice.

"Kon…" Robin whispers, the anger seemingly dissipated as he reaches his hand out to the other man's face hesitantly.

"They killed you, Rob. They killed you in our base, and I couldn't stop it." The half-Kryptonian sobs as he leans into the shorter man's touch.

Constantine can't help but let out what he knows is an annoying whistle at the display, no not a wolf whistle, he isn't that bad, bloody hell….

"So, with that all taken care of. I think I'll take my leave if everyone's good here." He announces, already backing towards the zeta that he knows is located in the cave.

"Don't you dare-" The injured Batman growls, seemingly having finally recovered from that haymaker of a punch, and noticed his departure.

"Ciao" He waves with a shit-eating grin as he steps into the zeta, quickly punching in the coordinates he wants before anyone can stop him.

Chapter Text

Kon doesn't know what to make of this.

Any of this.

It all started out when he pulled the short end of the stick on the team and ended up having to attend the Justice League meeting as their representative. Even though the last thing he wanted to do was go to the Batcave to try and figure out where the man who let his friend's murderer go free was.

But then he saw him.

Sitting on the table, rifling through the papers as if he were supposed to be there.

The ghost of what his best friend would look like if he ever had the pleasure of making it past 15.

Kon tried to just ignore him at first.

Focus on the case at hand and all that.

But…

He can't help the way his eyes kept being drawn back to the figure sitting on the table.

On the way that he just kept acting like Tim.

How his head would tilt to listen to whoever was speaking.

The way he would worry his lower lip in thought.

When he would tap his fingers against his chin in contemplation.

Everything about him was just so Tim.

Which would make sense considering that what he's seeing had to just be some figment of his imagination.

So it made sense that he would act just like how he remembered.

But it still hurt.

Just seeing a picture of his old friend is usually enough to make the old rage bubble up in his chest. A red hot ugly thing aimed at the people who let Tim die. The kind of scorching heat that made him want to burn down all of the people who failed to protect his Robin.

After everything that happened he couldn't stand to be around any of them. Even when some of the older Titans tried to sooth him over with excuses of it all just being a mistake, he would lash out of them

Kon wouldn't describe himself as violent, sure he liked to punch people in battle or to blow off steam but that was different. He didn't enjoy hurting others.

In fact he hated the feeling.

The feeling of acting like a monster.

However, he also just couldn't stand by while they made excuses for Dick.

Not when Tim was six feet in the ground because of him.

Not when the man who killed him was allowed to walk free.

Everyone told him that loss was normal considering their line of work.

Except, Tim didn't go out in some blazing ball of glory on the battle field (like Kon did) instead he was put out by someone from his own family.

Jason Todd killed an innocent kid and yet the whole Batfamily was protecting him.

And he was expected to work with those same people?

No

So he went to the Justice League with Cassie and Bart and with their permission they formed their own team separate from the Titans. It was basically just Young Justice again, but more official.

Now though, as Kon looks at this older version of his friend, he just feels hollow. Like someone just punched a hold through his chest cavity and yet he was still alive.

Living and breathing despite having all his vital organs ripped out.

A living shell of a person with a gaping hole pouring out blood and gore where his heart should be.

It reminds him of the dreams he used to have where in it, CADMUS messed something up and his body ends up failing. Slowly and painfully tearing itself apart at the seems.

Like that, this is just a cruel image of what could have been.

Of who his friend could have become if his life wasn't cut short by one of the people sitting as this very table.

Or that's what he thinks until Constantine gets up and starts to speak to his hallucination, which turns out not to have been a hallucination at all but actually was Tim.

Tim was here.

He was alive.

Tim is alive.

It was only thing repeating in his head throughout the whole ritual thing Constantine did.

Tim was alive and even more importantly, he was back.

And for the first time in years, Kon felt complete.

Like the chasm that had opened in his chest had been filled.

Then Constantine started talking about soulmates…

About how Kon and Tim were soulmates.

And he had no idea what to think about that, or what that meant. Apparently it was a Kryptonian thing that Clark just for got to tell him about.

But what makes him feel terrible is that he was supposed to know.

When they first met, Kon was supposed to have instantly felt the connection he had with Rob but instead he ended up entranced by Poison Ivy.

Sure him and Robin clicked eventually, but it took time. Their friendship was rocky at first with both of them grating on each other's nerves. They argued over just about everything and Kon felt that Tim didn't trust them since he wouldn't reveal his identity.

But in the end, they managed to work it out.

And then Tim died and suddenly there was a hole in his life where the other boy had been.

A painful thing that he filled with anger towards the bats so that he wouldn't have to feel the loss.

The emptiness that Tim left behind.

An emptiness that didn't pass like the saying goes, but rather seemed to get worse as time went on.

Now he wonders if part of that was Tim…

If he had been feeling all of the grief and betrayal that his friend was going through while being trapped in his own kind of hell.

He can't help but wonder if things had been different if he had recognized the bond earlier. Maybe then he could have used it to know that Tim was in danger. Maybe then he could have saved him.

Then Dick cut in and everything just went down hill from there.

Kon honestly has no idea where Dick even got the audacity to pull something like that, but Tim definitely made his thoughts on the matter clear.

Then the stabby brat came in, and then Jason…

In hindsight maybe he shouldn't have stopped Tim.

Maybe he should have just let his friend skewer the man who killed him.

Rao knows he deserved it.

But they were practically surrounded by the rest of the Justice League.

And the last thing he wants is for his friend to be locked up when he's just came back.

It was all just too much too soon.

He couldn't get his best friend back just to lose him seconds later.

Even if he wants all of the Bats to suffer for what they did to Tim, he knows that this isn't the time nor place.

So even though Kon wants to do nothing more than help his friend in his bloody crusade, he forces himself to wrap his arms around the younger man and hold him in place.

Of course that didn't do much considering Tim can just turn into a ghost and slip out of his grasp.

Then Robin turned his ire on Supernova, and he just broke down as the events of the day took their toll on him.

So much happened in the past few hours, and seeing Tim's shattered face was his breaking point. Having his friend looking at him as if Kon wanted to cause him pain, when in reality he felt too disgusted by the other man's family to bring himself to step through the threshold before now.

But Tim didn't know that.

Didn't know about how he would spend hours sitting at his grave with Bart, Cassie, Cissie, Anita, and Greta.

Didn't know about how his death absolutely wrecked all of them.

How his death ravaged Kon's life.

All because the people who were supposed to protect him failed and left Tim to rot in a cage.

Kon wraps his arms around the shorter man and holds him close, not paying any mind to the tears still streaming down his cheeks.

If only he had known that Tim was here.

If he had known…

But he's here now.

So Kon holds onto his friend like a lifeline.

Needing to make sure that he was real, that all of this was real.

He needed to know that is wasn't just some dream that he would wake up from.

It doesn't help that Tim is still kind of a ghost and can become incorporeal at any moment.

"I need you to be as physical with me as possible, okay?" Kon whispers low so that only Tim and probably Clark would be able to hear.

"What?" The other man asks sounding startled, and Kon can hear his heart rate picking up (huh, he didn't even notice that he could hear that again…) as a flush begins to take over his friend's face.

Except Kon didn't mean it like that.

Really, he was known for flirting but Tim was…

Tim.

And he had just come back from the dead and…

Whatever, point is he didn't mean it like that.

"Just don't 'go ghost' or whatever." Supernova stutters as he tightens his grip around Tim's waist.

But now he's forced to think about how close he is to Tim, and how his friend's waist feels in his hands and how their bodies fit together and…

Okay.

Not the time.

Rao, why did Tim have to even make that insinuation?

But now he can't help but notice how much Rob's face and everything has changed. All of the baby fat has long since left his cheeks, replaced with sharp edges and elegant features.

His hair was longer as well, falling just below his his shoulders.

Kon never really thought about what Tim would look like without short hair, but it looks nice.

Smooth and soft looking in a way that he never noticed when the other had it cut shorter.

No. Nope. That is not what he should be thinking about. The weird stuff about soulmates was just getting to him too much. Soon, he really needs to have a talk with Clark .

Although, he also can't help but notice as he embraces the other man, that he has a lot more muscular oddly enough. Not the bulky kind like himself, but rather his friend is all lean muscle similar to how Nightwing was before he became Batman.

Kon really has no idea how that works, can you even work out as a ghost?

Now that he thinks about it, does Tim need to eat?

Sleep?

What did he even do for all of these years?

Considering what he knew about Robin, he wouldn't doubt that the other man had been training for all of these years.

Researching endlessly on how he could get back.

Scheming up some kind of plan to raise hell on all those who hurt him.

Okay, he really needs to start focusing.

His friend literally just came back from the dead after being stuck in the same house as the people who killed him. They can discuss everything that comes that later, but for now he needs to get them out of here.

"I- yeah, okay. I'll try." Robin replies, and he feels as the other man adjust himself into a more secure position likely picking up what Kon's plan is.

The good thing is that Kon knows he isn't the only one affected by the proximity if Tim's heart rate is anything to go by. However, that could also just be from the other having to concentrate on remaining corporeal.

Supernova takes in a steadying breath, making sure that the League are still focused on Constantine's departure before making his escape out of the cave.

Thankfully the old exits Robin told him about all those years ago were still there, so he was able to make it out before anyone could pull the alarms to stop them.

Chapter Text

It was bright.

Brighter than any room in the manor had been, even with all of the lights turned on and the window blinds up.

The sun was positioned a little past mid-sky, beginning to set in the west (likely around 4pm if he had to guess). Tim had been trapped inside since his death, not even able to walk the manor grounds. At this point, the image of the wide-open sky above him has become as foreign to him as space is to many citizens. Although he also hasn't been to space in a while...

As the land flies by underneath him in a blur of colors, Tim finds himself clinging to Kon despite the comforting feeling of his friend's TTK surrounding him. With Kon's strength and powers it was basically impossible for him to fall, but it's been years since Tim has flown. So, while he wants nothing more than to relax into his friends hold, to show that he still trusts Kon and that nothing has changed…

His body won't let him, because things have changed.

Tim hasn't seen Kon in years, believing that all of his former friends and teammates had moved on and forgotten about him. While they were out in the world doing things, he was caged in a house full of ghosts. Only able to train and study the books in the library.

With nothing else to do he learned advanced physics, math, ancient history, chemistry, anatomy, biology, engineering, and about 20 different languages. At first, he focused on things that he hoped would help him figure out more about his situation; he looked into the supernatural and taught himself ancient languages that might help him decipher some of the older tomes in the library. But it took him less than a year before he exhausted all of Bruce's limited resources on magic.

The rest he learned to keep himself busy and as a way to try and keep himself sane.

There was a reason why Isolation was a form a psychological torture.

When he wasn't studying, Tim spent his time doing physical routines. Repeating the drills that Lady Shiva taught him to do with his bo staff and continuing to work out in order to retain his physic.

After all he had no idea if or when he would be able become corporeal again, so he needed to prepare for any and all outcomes.

But even will all of that knowledge, he still has no idea what his friends have been doing in his absence or if they even want anything to do with him.

Kon, at least, seemed to still be acting as a hero considering he was at the Justice League meeting, and he seemed happy to see Tim.

But was he really?

What if he was only doing these things because that was how Kon was supposed to act to his best friend coming back from the dead?

Maybe he had moved on, and Tim was just an old memory dragging him down by daring to return to the land of the living.

All of the bats seemed to be happier without him, who's to say if everyone else felt the same way.

Perhaps Tim had been the problem all along and the world was better off without him.

Maybe he should have stayed dead…

The moment he lost himself to that thought, Tim found himself falling.

One second he was secure in Kon's hold and the next there was nothing but air.

His first thought was that this was Kon's way of disposing of the problem. That everything before truly had been an act and now that they weren't in view of the Justice League his friend decided he wasn't worth the trouble.

He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

In the early days of his solitude, before he lost his faith in the bats, Tim imagined what it would be like to get miraculously revived. If his family and friends would welcome him back with open arms.

Or if his return would be seen as a mistake.

As time passed he began to lean more towards his second hypothesis.

After seeing how the Waynes expanded and watching as more kids were brought into the fold, it became clear that there wasn't be any room left for him.

That if Tim came back and decided to forgive them for everything they had done, he would be an unneeded appendage at best. While everyone else had their roles and jobs in the family he would be like an appendix.

A vestigial structure that was at risk of becoming infected and taking down the rest of the body with him.

Is being alive but hated by others better than being stuck in his own hatred of the living?

Tim doesn't know.

All he knows is that Kon stopped him from attacking Jason and now he's falling.

Although Constantine did say that he couldn't actually die unless Kon did…

And even more than that, he said Tim would be able to retain a physical form as long as his anchor was intact…

So, all Kon would have to do to get rid of him is break his old Robin insignia…

But if that's the case, then why is he falling?

As Tim comes back to himself, he finds Kon flying next to him looking very panicked and very much like he hadn't dropped Tim on purpose. In the back of his mind, he remembers the fact that he can literally phase out of physical reality and recognizes that was probably what had happened.

Kon didn't hate him, at least not that he was aware of.

He wasn't trying to kill Tim.

He thought that Tim deserved to be kept around.

The other man also seemed to be trying to say something, but he wasn't able to make out any of the words with the roar of the wind rushing in his ears. Tim hopes they aren't important as he doesn't think he could focus enough to read Kon's lips.

While he would absolutely love to be fully present, Tim feels like he's caught in some kind of daze.

Like the world is moving too slowly and too fast at the same time.

Upon glancing down (always a bad idea, by the way) Tim finds that he's much closer to the ground than he thought he would be.

How long has he been falling?

It must have been for a while considering he can make out the details of the houses below him, definitely not a good sign. Although, it might be interesting to see what would happen if he does hit the ground. Even in his whole semi-dead state, he still felt pain. The amount of times he tried to walk through walls or objects without concentrating on it could attest to that fact.

Of course, his "wounds" would just heal as usual and after a few days he'd be fine.

Around a year after his death, Tim had decided that he had enough and one day he decided to just try and end it all. Unfortunately the only thing he got for his efforts was a gaping hole in his chest that hurt like hell.

With all of the pain he was in, Tim wasn't even able to move himself off the floor for at least a week.

By the seventh day he was, thankfully, healed enough to get up and walk a few feet before collapsing in agony all over again. In the end, it took around a month and a half for him to be able to function semi-normally.

After that, Tim never tried to take his own life again.

No matter how bad things got, he wasn't able to put himself through that kind of pain again.

Now, as he stares down his quickly approaching doom, he can't help but wonder how long it would take for him to recover from this kind of injury. If a stab through the heart took over a month before he began to really recover, Tim can only imagine how much longer it would be for all of the shattered bones and damaged organs that this fall would no doubt result in to heal on their own.

Then again, there's also the question of how much doctors and surgeons would be able to speed up the process…

But that was a question for another time when he was be able to perform controlled experiments. Right now, he needs to stop himself from splatting on the ground and being in excruciating pain.

Simple.

Easy.

Yeah.

He had been able to control his whole 'ghost situation' just fine earlier when he went up against Jason. But in that moment, he had all of his burning rage and anger at his family to ground him. Then with Kon, he had the warmth of his friend's body as well as the feeling of comfort and safety that came with being around the man.

All he has right now is the vast emptiness of the sky and the uncertainty of not knowing how he'll be accepted in this new world. Oh, and the literal ground which is still getting closer by the second.

And…

Kon.

Who was looking at him with so much concern and fear that it dispelled any remaining doubts Tim still had. He would really hate to make his best friend have to watch him become a stain on the pavement, especially knowing there was a way for him to prevent that from happening. Even if he won't die, Tim has no doubt that the sight of it alone would likely traumatize Kon for a long time.

So, he reaches his hands out towards the other man and tries to focus on memory of his touch. On the feeling of being safe and warm in his friend's arms.

Drinks in every small detail of his face, tracing the lines of worry etched into the other's face and reveling in the familiarity of his features.

Attempts to listen for the low cadence of Kon's voice over the howling of the wind. Desperately latching on to every syllable he manages to catch.

Breaths in with the hopes of being able to smell the faint scent of leather and ozone that always seems to cling to the other's body.

And imagines how his friend must taste-

Okay.

Nope.

Not going there.

Four senses should be enough to bring him back to reality.

Yep.

Sound, sight, touch, and smell are good.

No need to even think about taste.

Tim just needs to lock that thought up in a vault in the back of his mind, never to be opened again.

Although, he does remember a Superman flavored ice being made…

Does Kon have an ice cream flavor now?

Would it taste similar to the Superman one, or be something entirely different?

Would he taste as sweet as the ice cream?

FUCK.

His spiralling is thankfully broken by a crushing embrace and the familiar comfort of his friend's TTK wrapping itself around his body.

The same friend who he was just internally debating the taste of…

Maybe the pavement would have been a kinder fate after all.

"Rob. Rob. What the actual fuck was that. I- fuck. Don't ever do that again. You hear me? I can't- I just got you back, Rob. I can't lose you again. So please… Please just stay with me. Please Robin… Tim…" Kon begs, his grip on Tim strong but not crushing.

Never crushing.

Because Kon would never hurt him.

He would never anyone (except their enemies, of course).

It was one of the things that made him so intrinsically Kon.

How could Tim forget such a simple thing?

Such an obvious fact of life?

Because everyone else has already betrayed him, including his family. So what makes Kon any different?

Nothing.

Everything.

Because he's Kon.

And Kon would never hurt him.

And maybe that's enough.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry Kon. I didn't- I promise I didn't mean to. I'll work on it, okay?" Tim reassures the half kryptonian, returning the embrace just as hard.

"Shit Robbie, I really thought I was going to have to watch you… And- and I wouldn't be able to save you, again. And it would have been exactly like last time." Supernova rambles in his ear, the taller man tangling a hand in his hair as he cradles Tim's head against his shoulder.

"I'm here, Kon. I'm here, and I won't be leaving you again. After all, according to Constantine you're literally stuck with me for the end of time." He says lightly in an attempt to lighten the mood, looking up at his friend with a cheeky grin.

All of his previous worries and sorrows temporarily forgotten in favor of comforting his friend.

"I mean, I still have no idea what this whole soul mate thing even is but knowing you, you'll probably have it all figured out by next week. Just… promise me that you'll be careful." Kon returns with a soft sigh, his eyes still appearing haunted despite Tim's efforts.

"Promise." Tim murmurs as they gently descend, the golden fields of Kent farm swaying softly around them. The rustling of the wheat serving as a balm over the sound of his racing heart.