Diversions & Digressions | fanfiction by mara

Fanfic100 prompt 84, He and Psych_30 prompt 19, Separation Anxiety. Just
a little angsty vignette to remind folks I’m still here. Losing my mind, but
still here.

CONTINUITY: Before Infinite Crises in Multiple Annoyances, I’m afraid.

When he joined Young Justice and then the Teen Titans, Tim decided the worst
part was leaving Gotham regularly. He fretted and kept a comm channel open in
case they needed him at home.

Perhaps it was a legacy of the earthquake, but it made him nervous to be too far
away from Gotham. No one ever mentioned it, although Tim was certain Bruce–at
the very least–knew how often he checked on things.

Tim suspected much of his ‘family’ had the same reaction to leaving. Even after
Dick moved to Blüdhaven, he found plenty of excuses to check in. If he wasn’t
perched on one of Barbara’s bookshelves, he was on the comm, chatting merrily
with Tim while they beat up muggers.

After several years, that gut reaction faded and Tim rarely checked to be sure
Gotham was where he’d left it. He trusted Batman and the others to protect his
home.

Besides, he loved being a Titan.

He…he loved being with Kon-El.

Weekends ended too soon now, taking him away from the dorky disguise glasses,
the broad shoulders, and the wicked grin when no one else was looking.

Black and red t-shirts, seen out of the corner of his eye, made Tim’s heart race
until he realized they weren’t attached to the right person. He worried
constantly in the back of his brain about something happening to Kon, that the
next time he came to the tower, Kon wouldn’t be there.

Tim told himself that was ridiculous–if anything, Kon should worry about him.
And Kon did: Holding Tim close, whispering that he should be careful, that he’d
better not get himself hurt, Kon worried about Tim’s safety.

For a few weeks, Kon nearly endangered missions in his zeal to protect Tim,
until Tim convinced him he could take care of himself…by kicking Kon’s butt
three ways from Sunday in the gym.

Cyborg gave them a funny look when he found them–Kon lying on his face, arms
twisted behind his back, laughing hysterically–but just shook his head,
muttered something about ‘boys will be boys,’ and left again.

Tim never ever said the word ‘love’ to Kon, even if he thought it. Somehow he
felt like that wasn’t something men did. Or maybe he just chickened out. It was
difficult to tell.

But every Sunday night, they stole a few moments in one of their rooms, kissing,
touching, reassuring themselves that the other was there. Then Tim left for
Gotham and Kon for Smallville, each praying to whatever deity might be listening
that they would see each other the next weekend.

Tim secretly swore that he would never lose Kon. No matter what. And in the
keeping of that promise, he would eventually lose his soul.

But that is a story for another day.

–end–

Aunt,
there’s no such thing
as honest love
in the world of men.
If there were,
who’d separate?
And if separation ever came to be,
who could go on living?

–Hla Stavhana (c. 50 A.D.), South Indian king, Prkrit poet. translated from The
Gthsaptaat of Stavhana Hla by Martha Ann Selby, vs. 124