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Stomp

Who: Tim Drake-Wayne and Conner Kent
What: Tim needs to get used to sharing an apartment with someone who doesn't just use up the hot water and eat his cereal ~~Cass~~
Where: Raven's Gate apartment
When: Shortly after the end of this log
Warnings: Probable mentions of recent attempted assault and injury.

Having managed to completely screw up both last night and today's conversation with Bruce, who is giving him entirely too many conflicted feelings that are starting to centre around being annoyed at getting walked out on without a proper explanation but cut through with awareness that he could have handled that talk better himself, Tim is just glad to be heading home. Or what he's calling home for right now, a small two-bed apartment in Raven's Gate that he's sharing with Conner, close to the docks and the smell of the sea but busy and civilised enough for his city-boy tendencies. He takes several measures to avoid pursuit, just in case anyone was staking out Bruce's safe house, and then picks up a few groceries before making his way to Raven's Gate.

He heads in through the front door and calls out, quietly since he knows Conner will hear him, "I'm back."

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"I was undercover at a club." Don't make him say it was a sex club, the shirt is embarrassing enough by itself, in the stark light of day and out of the Alvin Draper character. To try and avoid further dissection of that, Tim shrugs as if that's enough information on his undercover troubles and latches onto the other conversational track. "Because he's not our Bruce. He's from some other Earth where, apparently, we don't exist. All I could get out of him was that he knows something about us - me and Dick, at least - from visiting other worlds before, and that he'd rather avoid us."

"Looks like you were trying to attract attention, wearing something like that. What were you investigating? And how did you get hurt?" He won't force Tim to tell him if he really doesn't want to, but he's not happy being told previously he couldn't come along, now even more so since Tim's gotten hurt somehow.

"Maybe he just doesn't know how to deal with the thought of having kids or something? I mean, Kal's never gotten around to that idea ever." With me goes unspoken as he rolls his eyes ever so slightly at the mention of his 'father'. Chris was a whole different story. "And you know, Batman is... different without a Robin. If that's what you mean by 'we' not existing."

"... Yeah, I guess I did attract attention." He isn't entirely comfortable talking about it, because he screwed up, and because it really wasn't pleasant, and he runs a hand through his hair. "I was investigating illegal activity and mostly doing recon on the big players in town, I thought this club would attract that kind of interest since it's fairly new and... niche. But I ran into a group who'd drugged some girl and I sort of - redirected their attention. And I would have been fine, but as it turns out, one of them could drug people with his hands."

He steps away to put the groceries into the right cupboard as he talks, then turns to look at Conner again for the Bruce talk. "Maybe, but I don't know if he even knows we're his - adopted - family. And that was what I meant, but he didn't recognise Superman when I mentioned him, either."

"What?" His eyes narrow in concern and anger, though the latter isn't directed at Tim. "You were drugged? Are you okay? Did they do anything else...?" Because if they had, Conner was going to go find them and smash their faces in. "Damnit, Tim, next time you go out, you should take me with you." He tries to make a convincing argument because he's pretty sure Tim will argue against him. "I know it's shocking, but I actually can be quiet. I can be the big broody bodyguard to make sure no one messes with you just in case something bad does happen, then you won't be on your own. I know you can take care of yourself but we're pretty much on our own here."

He'll walk over and help to put some of the things away, listening while Tim goes on about Bruce. "... Man. I'm not sure I want to meet a Batman who hasn't meet Superman. He'd probably freak and shoot me down if I start flying or something. At least I wouldn't have to worry about a kryptonite ring."

"They didn't get a chance to do anything else." Thanks to Bruce. It's a little galling to admit, but between the lack of support network and unknown factors like different xenians, Tim really is feeling out of his depth here, and it almost cost him his life. "I'm fine, I slept it off. I know you can - act as a bodyguard, even if you do need to work on your range and acting skills. And disguise skills." Just a pair of glasses isn't going to cut it under Bat-standards, okay. "But - maybe, sometimes, I guess... I could use the back up."

That was markedly less argumentative than Tim would usually be about this.

"It seems like you have to deal with an over-abundance of magic to make up for the lack of kryptonite, but I can't imagine any Bruce would want to get involved with that. ... Still, I wouldn't go flying around the first time you meet him. If you ever meet him."

"So teach me. Not like there's anything else to do in this dump. And not sometimes. All the time. Otherwise I'm just going to start following you from now on anyway. It's not hard for me to find you if I really want to." He taps the side of one ear for emphasis.

"I guess we'll see. Planning on inviting him over for dinner?" He's only half teasing about that.

Tim raises an eyebrow at that, giving Conner a sharp look. He remembers the time the other boy decided to follow him around Gotham with that ridiculous bag on his head, attempting to annoy him into submission. At least what Conner is talking about this time is more subtle, but he'll still know, and he can't help but be irked by the idea. He'd like to say that he'd be able to lose Conner, too, and he could... if he had access to lead, and... alright, those plans are being stowed away for the future. For now, he sighs and rolls his eyes. "Anything but that. If you're serious about this, I can teach you a few things. Don't expect to be my bodyguard all the time, though." That wouldn't have been the most advantageous role if Conner had been involved in the planning last night.

As well as that worked out. Hm.

"I owe him breakfast, but I doubt he'd accept the invitation. I mean, I don't even know how to invite him."

"Like I said, I know you can take care of yourself pretty well. I guess I mean more like... I'd just stay back and watch, just to make sure. You can handle stuff on your own unless it starts going really south. It's just... You're the only person I really know here. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I could say the same for you." For pretty much all of that - he knows that Conner can take care of himself, in terms of pure resistance to damage and capability to dish it out, he's got Tim beat - but it's the other stuff he's a little lacking on. Well, okay, if it was just blending in with normal people, Conner would have him beat there too. But with unknown xenians and magic just permeating the streets, he feels justified in not wanting anything to happen to Conner, either. "If Bart was here, it'd be a lot like the old days."

Conner raises an eyebrow at that. "You mean back when we had no idea what we were doing?" A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "That all seems like centuries ago instead of a few years."

"Do you... need any help taking care of anything?" he asks, gesturing at Tim. "Some salve or something?"

"When you had no idea what you were doing, yeah." He works with Batman, he always knows what he's doing. ... Okay, maybe not always, but shh, he tries to. "It does feel like it was a lot longer ago than it really was."

"No, the stitches should be fine - I'm going to be sore for a while, though." Normal people would be asking for painkillers in that case, Tim.

"No going out and being Mr. Hides In Shadows until you're better then. And if you sneak out, I will go after you. Got it?" He gives Tim a stern look. Yes, he is totally parenting right now. Well, somehow has to. Tim does not do a good job at taking care of himself, Conner feels. Especially if he comes home with stitches and bruises after being drugged.

Tim is not very appreciative of parenting coming from his best friend - he knows it's just that Conner is worried about him, and that's fine; not ideal, but fine - but that doesn't mean his sense of independence chafes any less. "I've fought with worse." That's not... actually reassuring, and he's always regretted it afterwards. He frowns at Conner for a long moment, then sighs, rubbing a hand back through his hair. "I'll try to restrict myself for a day or two. I have some jobs to apply for to keep me busy, anyway."

He flops back into the chair at that. "Hey, that's all I ask. Just take care of yourself and don't do anything unnecessary in normal people terms, not your terms."

Oh. Right. Jobs. He should get on that too, huh.

He takes a seat in the other chair, a little far forward so he's almost perching. "I do take care of myself." On a very specific Tim scale of things that might not exactly match up anyone else's standards of taking care of themselves, as Conner is probably getting more of an idea of from actually living with him for more than just weekends. "Neither of us exactly have normal standards to go by, either. I promise not to do anything that'll tear my stitches, okay? That's - reasonably normal."

And yes, yes he should.

Conner just snorts at that first sentence, giving him a disbelieving look. "I'm gonna hold you to that last thing. That's what I'm worried about the most." He pauses for a moment, looking down. "I know I'm probably not the most therapeutic person to talk to either, but if something's ever, you know, on your mind or bothering you or something like that, you can come talk to me about it to.."

Tim raises an eyebrow, and takes a moment before speaking. He's just thinking... maybe it'd be good to talk about what happened, but he's gone as far into it as he's really comfortable with, and he'd rather just put it behind him. And he doesn't want Conner to start worrying again and have more reason to tell him not to go out alone. "Conner... I appreciate that, and if I need to talk about something, I'll come to you. I already told you what was bothering me about Bruce. You're my best friend, here or anywhere - and not my therapist, so don't worry about that, okay?"

Conner holds his hands up surrender. "I got it. I was mostly just saying for future reference, you know? Just don't bottle everything up until you explode or crash, okay?"

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