Chapter Text
Sleep didn’t come easy to Timothy Drake-Wayne.
The whirl of his constantly-moving mind kicked up the worst when he tried to rest. With nothing to occupy it, he found his mind replaying all of his inadequacies and horrors behind closed lids.
It was really only when his body took control against his will, when the need for rest was too great, that he found sleep at all.
And, with a compounding of current events, that particular problem was made much worse for the young man who was Red Robin and the active CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He was lucky to get more than 3 hours of sleep every few days.
His family was starting to worry.
Tim insisted he was fine, everything was fine. (It was always fine, it had to be. He couldn’t afford for things to not be fine.)
Still, Alfred had refused him his usual coffee during post-patrol breakfast that morning. The butler had wanted him to go to sleep.
Unfortunately for Alfred, Tim had to scout his college campus before classes started. And where there was a college campus, there was almost always a coffee shop nearby willing to supplement his particular caffeine needs.
Freshly eighteen and an adult by societal standards, he could purchase his own even if the quality wasn’t wholly to his preferences. Little compared to anything his grandfather figure could produce. And making his own was out of the question, a fact that he was ashamed to admit. He wasn’t as bad as Bruce, who could burn water on the best of days, but Tim was still unskilled at the craft of brewing coffee.
Perhaps he could work on that.
That, and the other myriad life skills he had been too busy to develop during years of living a double life.
Bruce had returned to the fold after his stint in the time stream. Damian had long since taken over the role of Robin. Gotham City had more vigilantes than ever before. Tim’s purpose as the tape holding Batman together had long since been fulfilled, leaving him as vestigial in function. Unneeded.
That was why he had cut back on his hours as CEO and Red Robin in order to enroll in college.
Because… maybe it was time.
Time to step back, figure out what was next for him. Take a break.
What a “break” would entail (Would he step away from the cape entirely? Return the mantle of CEO to Bruce?), what it would mean for him, he still wasn’t sure.
Could he even fully commit to this time off, commit to college?
He’d attempt a semester, at least… though he was undecided on a major, if he managed more than that. Business, maybe. He’d figure it out.
It was thoughts like those that preoccupied him as he parked his ride—one of his family’s many motorcycles—and made his way to the coffee shop.
“Pour Decisions”, read the signage. He snorted a bit in amusement. Aptly named, for a coffee shop so close to a college campus.
The cafe itself was set into the brick architecture of the surrounding building complex, nestled between a laundromat and a pizza place. Each establishment was fronted by large windows with simple woodworking, with the cafe’s storefront painted a rich mahogany. Inside, he can see heavy wood-tones and the warm yellow glow of pendant lighting. Many bodies were clustered inside, either in line or seated at tables.
Tim could already taste the bitter nectar of the gods.
There was appeal in how close the cafe was to campus. Students were obviously the main clientele, especially now that they were moving into dorms for the semester. Tim would find it convenient once classes started, too.
All of those details slotted into place despite his bleary-eyed mission to acquire coffee.
Cool metal beneath his hand, a jingle of bells. The smell of roasted coffee beans.
Decadent.
His attention returned abruptly when he collided with a muscled back.
“I’m sorry!” Tim was quick to say, staggering back a step. “Shit, I wasn’t paying attention!”
“I can see that.”
Soft eyes the color of cornflower sea-glass glanced down at him, directed over the vast slope of a shoulder. Amusement crinkled around them, unbothered. Tim found he had to crane his neck to meet them.
The man who owned them was probably taller than Jason and Bruce by at least two inches. Unlike them, however, he was more lean muscle than the bulk Tim’s father and older brother packed.
Still. No wonder Tim felt like he had walked straight into a wall.
“You okay?”
Tim blinked uncomprehendingly for a minute, before jolting back to the present. The man was starting to look concerned. “Yeah, I mean, yes! I’m fine. I’m sorry again for running into you.”
“No harm done.” Tim’s concern was waved off with a hand. Long-fingered and calloused, Tim couldn’t help but note. He swallowed reflexively. Then, the man continued, “I’m Danny, by the way.”
Danny. He would remember that. “I’m Tim.”
“Nice to meet you, Tim,” there was mirth in Danny’s tone. Looking down over his shoulder like that must have been uncomfortable, because he turned around enough to get a better angle without losing sight of the line to the counter. “Come here often?”
Was Danny flirting?
No, there was no way. Tim was just tired. He was hearing things, or projecting, or something.
He shook his head, hair tousling with the movement. “No, first time.” He paused. “...Do you? Come here often?”
…Fuck, Tim. Don’t go flirting before you’ve had your first cup of the day! You know how that usually goes!
Danny’s smile warmed, still openly amused. “Sure do. I even worked here, briefly.”
“Did you?”
“Mhm. For a year or two.” Danny shifted with the line as it crept forward, easy as anything, like being surrounded by bodies and noise and caffeine-starved college students wasn’t the least bit bothersome. “I worked a couple different jobs, actually. Though I had to step back since I’m starting college.”
“I’ve never seen you around,” came out before Tim could stop it. It was too quick, too interested. Fuck, he was going to freak this guy out by acting too stalkery. He could practically hear Steph laughing at him from across the city.
Besides, Gotham was a big city, and Tim didn’t make a habit of frequenting this part of town as his civilian identity. He more often found himself on rooftops than in cafes like Pour Decisions. But Danny seemed like the sort of person Tim would have noticed, had he run into him. Plus, Danny seemed too good-humored to be a born Gothamite. And despite how tall he was, he didn’t look that much older than Tim, either.
“I’ve been here since I was seventeen,” Danny revealed.
Tim’s detective brain latched onto that detail, interest sharp despite his better judgement. What had led Danny to Gotham, of all places?
“Danny, you’re holding up the line!” a barista shouted from the counter, interrupting them.
“Oh, sorry, Jen!” he called back. Danny glanced back Tim’s way, curls of black hair bouncing against his forehead. The movement caught the pendant light overhead, turning the dark strands briefly glossy. “I should probably go put in my order.”
He waved casually, then disengaged from Tim to go chat with who Tim assumed was Jen.
His familiarity with the café workers corroborated his claim to have worked there. Curiosity still nagged at the back of Tim’s mind, though. Something about Danny had caught his interest, and not only because his eyes were gorgeous.
Though that was most definitely a factor.
“Can I help who’s next?”
Tim blinked. Right. Coffee.
Tim would dwell on the mystery that was Danny later. For now, it was time to get the caffeine he so desperately needed.
He stepped up to the counter and ordered on autopilot, rattling off enough espresso to earn a visible pause from the barista. He pretended not to notice. Once his order was placed, he joined the scattering of people waiting on the opposite side of the counter.
“So, will I be seeing you around campus?” Danny’s sudden voice startled him.
He had assumed the conversation was over. That they would stand in silence until their drinks were called and then go their separate ways.
Apparently, Danny had other ideas.
How was this man so friendly in Gotham of all places?
“Yes,” Tim muttered. “At least for the semester.”
“Oh?”
“Mm. I’m not really sure what I even want to study.”
That admission sat strangely in his mouth.
Tim was smart. No one could argue that. He might have dropped out of school at sixteen, but he had easily gotten his GED and later taken over as CEO of Wayne Enterprises during Bruce’s disappearance. His time running his family’s company had helped it flourish to new heights.
He could run board meetings. He could dismantle criminal networks. He could track Bruce through time on evidence so thin most people called him crazy and delusional.
And somehow, something as simple as choosing a major was tripping him up.
Still.
Stepping back to figure himself may have been difficult, but it was necessary.
He had to find out just who Tim Drake-Wayne even was.
“Well, you don’t have to decide right away,” Danny said. Then he grinned, an impish gleam glittering in those gorgeous blues, and whispered conspiratorially: “Liberal arts majors exist for a reason.” He laughed at his own terrible joke, which brought a strange warmth behind Tim’s sternum. “Besides, you can always change your major if you figure out what you want later.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Tim said, trailing off thoughtfully.
It sounded so simple, laid out like that. Simple, yet somehow completely out of reach. Tim would have to do more research.
Danny was still grinning when Tim glanced back up at him. “Is that what was on your mind when you ran into me?”
“Among other things,” Tim confirmed, cheeks growing warm at the reminder. Fuck, how was he always messing up his first impressions so badly? He was a vigilante! A CEO, for fuck’s sake! It shouldn’t be that hard!
“Order for Danny!” The shout from the counter cut through the silence stretching between them. Tim took it as a mercy.
“Well, that’s me.” Danny stepped forward to claim his drink, though his gaze lingered over his shoulder. “See you around?”
It was likely just Danny being nice. He was a nice person. No need to go getting your hopes up over nothing, Tim. They probably wouldn’t even see much of each other once classes started on campus!
But his coffee-deprived brain was working on autopilot. So of course he had to go and blurt out the most embarrassing response to ever exist:
“I’d like that.”
Fuck, just put Tim out of his misery.
Danny’s smile softened. His eyes made butterflies flutter in Tim’s stomach. Tim never wanted to stop looking.
Then Danny was gone, giving Tim one last wave over his shoulder before slipping out through the café door and into the gray Gotham morning.
Tim watched him go for several seconds too long.
Then the bell over the door jingled, the line shifted, and someone behind the counter called his name.
Right. Coffee, then scouting the campus. Everything else would just have to wait until later.
✩✩✩
The first full week of classes had officially concluded.
Fueled by coffee and spite, Tim had managed to attend all of them with varying degrees of wakefulness—his nightly activities and insomnia be damned.
Whether he was retaining anything was another question.
It wasn't a true concern, though. He was already well-versed in most of the coursework. Being raised from a young age to inherit Drake Industries had given him a brutal head start, and his real-world experience running Wayne Enterprises filled in many of the remaining gaps.
Still, potential problems could still arise if he encountered anything new. His perfectionist brain made him far too aware of that fact. In fact, one elective in particular had turned that quiet, niggling thought into something louder as the week wore on.
Computer Engineering.
He had plenty of self-taught information on the subject. More than enough to hold his own, probably more than enough to outpace most of the class if he really wanted to. But Tim knew better than anyone that the difference between formal education and self-taught was vast. There were differences in structure, in terminology, in the kinds of foundational assumptions instructors expected students to already have. Gaps he didn’t know about were the most dangerous kind.
Which meant a study partner or tutor would be needed.
A certain classmate—one with those lovely blue eyes like cornflower sea-glass named Danny (last name still unknown)—seemed like a likely candidate. Their previous interaction suggested they would get along well enough.
Probably.
…Maybe.
Assuming Tim didn’t mess it up.
The thought on how to approach the man stalled him in the hallway outside their classroom, waiting for the man in question to appear.
It was becoming a common occurrence, especially the less sleep he got. Circling a problem over and over in his head, dissecting it, coming up with a multitude of different scenarios, and… getting nowhere.
Tim was beginning to suspect that he had a problem.
"Are you okay? You've been standing there for almost ten minutes."
Tim didn’t jump at the sudden voice pulling him from his overcrowded thoughts, back into reality. He didn’t.
A soft, rumbling chuckle proved him wrong, and the speaker’s broad shoulders angled into his line of sight.
Danny. Because Tim had absolutely no luck to speak of.
Danny was smiling down at him with those soft-looking lips and glimmering blues again. “Hello? Anyone home?” he teased.
Tim cleared his throat and straightened, fighting the urge to fidget with his collar. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about the lecture,” he claimed.
“Right,” Danny said, skepticism coloring his tone. His eyes flicked down the hallway, then back to Tim. “Well, someone might walk into you if you’re spacing out in the hall like this. Unless that’s something you’re into. Far be it from me to judge.”
Tim flushed high on his cheeks. “I’m not intentionally standing here hoping to be trampled.”
“Good to know.”
“But this is good. You’re the person I was hoping to talk to.”
Danny quirked up a brow, and smirked. “...So it was intentional.”
“No! I—ugh…”
Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, face burning and already regretting everything. Of course he managed to fudge things up immediately, again. Why did he even try? Stupid gorgeous, tall, broad-shouldered men making Tim embarrass himself and flounder like a fish—
Danny was still smirking down at him, looking like the cat that got the cream. At least someone was enjoying himself, even if it was at Tim’s expense.
He rolled his eyes and huffed.
“Just. Forget it. I’ll go find another study partner to work with. Have a good day.”
He went to sidestep Danny and make his own exit, only to be halted by a hand on his arm.
“Wait,” Danny said quickly, letting go of Tim to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I wasn’t thinking. Foot, meet mouth, y’know. Could I get another chance?” The humor softened from his face, leaving something earnest behind. Tim felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I’d love to study with you.”
Tim arched his own eyebrow, this time. This hadn’t gone like he had intended. He would have preferred to begin their interaction on his own terms, with his own plan, rather than so off-the-cuff. But. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, he supposed.
He’d succeeded in his mission to acquire Danny as his study partner.
Now, to not scare Danny away.
“Alright,” Tim said. Graciously. Totally not still blushing like a flustered teenager with a crush. “Shall we discuss it over coffee, then?”
Danny practically beamed down at him. "Gladly!”
✩✩✩
An autumn chill settled slowly in the wind as two weeks passed in quick succession.
The leaves had turned almost without warning, green giving way to oranges and reds. The air smelled damp and cold in the mornings, sharp enough to bite at Tim’s lungs when he rode in on early mornings, and the walkways had started collecting drifts of fallen leaves that crunched underfoot.
A routine was established in those weeks that worked well for Tim.
Studying with Danny in their shared elective had evolved into something more friendly and companionable than strictly necessary. They still worked on Computer Engineering together, but eventually their sessions had expanded. Tim would take notes for business law or statistics while Danny picked through mechanical engineering coursework beside him. Sometimes they traded explanations. Sometimes Danny rambled through a problem until it solved itself out loud. Sometimes they simply existed across from each other in comfortable silence.
It was… nice.
Tim had already aced several quizzes in his classes with ease, just as expected. Things were going quite well, if he was honest with himself. Far better than he could have predicted.
Danny’s presence gave his mind something external to anchor itself to. His chatter kept Tim from sinking too far into his own thoughts, and his quiet made the room feel occupied without being demanding. It was a balance Tim hadn’t realized he needed until he had it.
Which was why the current silence bothered him so much.
Danny was quieter than usual, gaze lowered toward his open textbook without seeming to read any of it. His brow was furrowed, the usual smooth ease of his expression pulled tight by something Tim couldn’t quite name.
"Is something on your mind?" Tim asked from his note-taking, keeping his tone purposefully light to avoid pushing any unknown buttons. "Usually I'm the one lost in my head."
Danny huffed. His hand lifted to the back of his neck (the left hand, which Tim noted as odd considering Danny was right-handed), smoothing over the baby hairs there in a gesture Tim had come to recognize as self-soothing. “You got me,” he chuckled, the noise wobbling at the edges.
Were those nerves?
That, more than anything, earned Tim’s full attention. Danny was usually all loose limbs and easy smiles, a collective ease that was enviable to Tim. Seeing him hesitate now, made something in Tim’s chest tighten.
He set his pen down.
Danny shot Tim a weak smile. “I had something I wanted to ask you. I’m just… not really sure how to go about it.”
“You? Not sure what to say?” Tim smiled back, chuckling. “And here I thought you admitted you didn’t think before speaking. Where’d the filter come from?”
Danny rolled his eyes, but some of the tension in his shoulders melted away at Tim’s teasing. “Ha-ha. Very funny. For real, though. Do we always have to study together?”
Tim stiffened. “What?”
“Wait, no! That came out wrong!” Danny sat up straighter. “I meant—shit.”
His mouth worked wordlessly for a moment. Then he pressed his knuckles against his chin, elbow balanced on the table, eyes darting away before forcing themselves back to Tim’s face.
“What I mean is…” Danny exhaled again, rocking his head from side to side in thought. “I’d like to do other things with you. Other than studying, I mean. Maybe we could see a movie? Or something. I’d like to get to know you more.”
Every thought in Tim’s head screeched to a halt.
Unable to do more than stare and blink, Tim turned his focus inward to go over their past few weeks of interactions. Had he missed something? What had he done that could possibly warrant this sudden interest in his person, rather than a shared class to study for?
Sure, they got along fairly well. Tim enjoyed the time they shared. Danny was handsome and funny and kind, after all. But this partnership wasn’t meant to go beyond that. Their conversations had only ever related to their classwork and their few mutual interests, before this.
What changed? Had Danny been hinting at this before, and Tim just hadn’t seen it?
Tim had a fair bit of knowledge of Danny’s major of mechanical engineering already, due to his work in WE. That worked to the taller man's advantage when he could ramble about his coursework and receive feedback from Tim. Tim was able to help with explaining topics and problems from Danny’s lessons and coursework.
Tim’s own major, currently Business, wasn’t interesting to Danny. That was perfectly fine with Tim. He liked Danny’s company. It helped quiet his racing mind when he had someone else to focus on.
But this. Tim hadn’t expected this. Was Danny asking for friendship? A date? Was Tim supposed to already know? Had there been signs? There were always signs. Tim was usually good at signs.
Dammit, was Tim even ready to try dating, again?
“Oh no,” Danny said. “I lost him in his head again.”
Tim blinked back to the present.
Danny was watching him with an expression caught somewhere between fond and anxious.
Right. Come on, Tim, were you Red Robin or weren’t you? Tim inhaled slowly, letting the moment bolster his nerves. “Sorry, I was caught off guard by that,” he admitted carefully. “I didn’t think this went anywhere beyond our schooling.”
Danny’s eyes flicked between both of Tim’s, likely trying to get a read past the man’s sudden poker face. “It could,” he offered slowly. “If you wanted. Won’t know unless we give it a try, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck again, glancing away. “And… if it’s too awkward, we can just go back to being study buddies. No pressure or anything. But if it works out… well, I’d like to be friends and hang out, if that’s cool with you.”
Tim rolled the thought around in his head. He would be lying if he claimed he hadn’t been lonelier, lately. Cutting back on his hours as Red Robin and CEO meant that he no longer interacted as much with his family and friends. It might be nice to have a friend connected to this new part of himself that he was building—a part where he learned who he was and what he wanted for himself.
Friends. It couldn’t hurt, could it? He liked Danny. And Danny apparently liked him well enough, too, or else he wouldn’t have offered to see Tim outside of their study sessions.
And wasn't that half the charm of college, making new friends and memories?
"...Okay," he acquiesced tentatively. "We can make plans for this weekend, if you’re free?"
Danny grinned. “This weekend,” he agreed.
✩✩✩
Danny’s clumsy request came early in the week. An outing on Saturday—one that would be an all-day affair, apparently, considering the frankly alarming number of activities Danny wanted to fit into a single day.
To Tim’s surprise, once he agreed to Saturday, Danny quickly became more familiar with him outside of their study sessions. He often found himself running into Danny between classes, where they would walk on the green together or go to Pour Decisions for a cup of coffee and warm conversations. Honestly, Tim was surprised with how often he found himself finding Danny, like Danny was constantly seeking him out to hang out.
It was nice. Tim was enjoying himself.
In the midst of all of this, Tim wasn’t sure when his thoughts shifted—only that once they had, they became all-consuming. A familiar curiosity woke in him, sharp-toothed and difficult to satiate, screaming Danny’s name over and over in the back of his mind.
He wanted to know more.
He had to know more.
More than what Tim could learn in casual discourse. From study sessions, and coffee breaks, and walks together, and their upcoming outing on Saturday.
Tim needed to know everything.
Unfortunately for him, he had limited time during the school week. His investigation had to wait until the weekend drew closer. However, once Friday evening arrived, all bets were off. Tim found himself following Danny home after they bid each other farewell until their outing the next day.
When Danny entered a large apartment complex, keys in hand, it was simple work to deduce which floor he lived on and subsequently the unit the man was staying in.
Finding the unit number on the communal mailbox, Tim finally learned Danny’s surname, written in Danny’s distracted and endearingly chicken-scratch script. Nightingale.
Danny Nightingale.
Tim liked it. It sounded so nice rolling off his tongue.
(Tim Nightingale sounded even better, in his not-so-humble opinion.)
From there, Tim went home to his own apartment to scour the internet for every kernel of data on one Danny Nightingale. Much to his chagrin, the information was scarce. Alarmingly so.
The smattering he could track down gave a vague image of Danny—enough to pass a cursory glance, but not near enough to satisfy Tim’s appetite for knowledge.
Good enough grades in high school. Proof of a name change from Fenton to Nightingale. Emancipation at the age of seventeen (which was confirmed to be around the time Danny moved to Gotham). Zero social media presence.
Hell, Tim couldn’t even find photos of Danny beyond a standard one for Danny’s college ID.
None.
How was that even possible?
Alarm bells were ringing in his head. His heart rate ticked upward. Thoughts collided in his skull like a freeway pileup, fast and violent and impossible to sort. His fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly at the roots in an attempt to ground himself through the fog of mild panic thrumming beneath his skin.
How did anyone have so little presence in the world?
People left trails, even when they didn’t want to. Even when they tried their damnest to not leave one. There should be receipts, or records, or pictures with him tagged in them, or comments about him from others, hell Tim would take even a blurry background appearance in someone else’s life.
It was like this man didn’t exist beyond what he’d purposefully left for others to find.
There had to be more to Danny than Tim could gather digitally. And now with Danny’s address seared in his mind, Tim had a way to discover those truths in real time.
It was time to uncover the mysteries of one Danny Nightingale née Fenton.
Decision made, he went to his closet to prep the clothes he wore for nighttime reconnaissance out of the mask. Folding them up, he placed them in his desk chair, ready for easy changing.
(And no, it was not a stalking getup, no matter what Steph liked to say. So what if he intentionally designed it with his Red Robin color scheme in mind. So what if it had a single sleeveless arm and buckles. It was subtle! Shut up, Steph!)
He set his camera on top of the pile, for good measure. Just to ensure everything was ready for him at the end of his get-together with Danny on Saturday.
It itched at him to have to wait until after their day out to investigate more. But the knowledge that he was adequately prepared for tomorrow soothed his thirst for knowledge in the interim. …Kinda. It would have to.
If only his brain would get the memo and let him sleep.
It churned the entire night.
Thankfully, however, morning came quickly—if sleeplessly. A glance in his bedroom mirror when he finally got up reflected back a pallid, hollow-eyed face. Shadows were heavy beneath his weary eyes. Shit, and on his day out with Danny, of all days!
Tim splashed water on his face then pat his face dry with a face towel. It did little to improve things.
Dammit.
Perhaps a touch of concealer would hide some of it?
After a bit of searching around his bathroom drawers, he found and applied some.
“I still look like shit warmed over,” Tim muttered, scowling at his reflection. He cursed his insomnia to hell and back. “Fuck. It’ll have to be good enough. Hopefully Danny doesn’t mind too much.”
Tim wasn’t confident, but a man could dream.
A quick glance at the digital clock in his bedroom told him he had enough time to drown his exhaustion in caffeine before meeting Danny. He started throwing together an outfit, then paused when his gaze landed on the recon clothes folded on his desk.
Could he bring them along in his messenger bag without risking Danny noticing them?
Probably.
He packed them.
“Okay,” Tim muttered once he was dressed in a deep peacock-blue turtleneck and simple cream slacks. “This looks acceptable.”
The words gave him pause. This wasn’t a date, they were just meeting up. Together. Outside of class. Just the two of them. On an outing Danny spent ages planning for. For an entire day.
Tim stared at himself in the mirror.
“...Fuck, is this a date?”
He quickly slapped his cheeks to chase away the spiral before it could fully overtake him.
Don’t be an idiot, he scolded himself, forcing himself away from the mirror, scooping up his messenger bag and heading for the door.
They were friends hanging out.
That was all.
Nothing more.
Tim would allow no such thoughts to take root and hinder the day’s agenda.
…Though perhaps afterward, depending on how their interactions went, he could humor the thought.
Maybe.
The drive to his usual coffee shop, the Daily Grind, took only a few minutes despite traffic. Once there, he acquired the most potent blend available in the largest size they offered. Warmth leeched through the cup and into his hands, chasing back the autumn chill that had been building since late August bled into the middle of September.
The equinox had come and gone, breaking summer’s lingering hold.
Tim inhaled the curling steam, letting the scent of roasted coffee, with nutty and chocolate notes sprinkled in, settle his nerves.
“Good coffee?”
Danny’s voice jolted his heart into a jackhammer rhythm.
Tim did not jump. His coffee just sloshed a bit in his cup, that was all. It didn’t even spill!
His eyes snapped open, startled gaze locking onto Danny’s face angled far too close for comfort.
How the hell did Tim not notice him approaching?
“Do you enjoy sneaking up on me every time we meet?” Tim demanded with a glower. His heavy eyelids cast his blue eyes nearly black. “And how is it that you always seem to know where I am?”
“What a coincidence, amiright?”
Tim stared at him.
Danny’s smile wobbled the longer the stare lasted. He fidgeted. His gaze flicked to Tim’s intense gaze, then away, then back again. His mouth opened. Closed. Words seemed to escape him for several seconds.
Then, his expression abruptly brightened. “I didn’t know you frequented this place, too! It’s one of my favorites outside of Pour Decisions.” He laughed, a little too quickly. His hand jerked toward his neck then stalled, an aborted movement. “It’s closer to my place, you know?”
“I see,” Tim said. His lips quirked, and his head tilted to the side, just barely.
The lie was so glaring.
Danny’s apartment was nowhere near this coffee shop.
Tim was so tempted to call him out on his lie, but then Tim would have to reveal how he knew where Danny lived. But even still, “This coffee shop is also close to my apartment. How fortuitous. I had no idea that we lived so close to each other.”
“Lucky, I guess!” Danny laughed, pitched a bit too high with nerves. Still, it was infectious, easily chasing away the autumn chill. Tim found himself smiling up at him. “Well, since we’re already here, do you wanna grab breakfast before heading to the museum? I can’t wait to check out the space exhibit I mentioned! After that, we can do lunch, then a walk in the park. Then the movie, then dinner?”
“That’s still a lot,” Tim said, sipping at his coffee. Honestly, he had been so excited for today that he failed to sleep, and now that he was faced again with the sheer amount of things Danny wanted to do, everything was a little daunting. Plus, the excitement being exuded from the man? It was so cute, and Tim wished he had the energy to properly appreciate it. “You do know there are only twenty-four hours in a day, right?”
Danny laughed at that, a bit sheepish.
Still, Danny’s enthusiasm made it difficult to regret agreeing to hang out. It colored every rambled word, bright and eager, and settled somewhere warm beneath Tim’s ribs. The wide, toothy smile on Danny’s face only made it worse. Perhaps it didn’t matter if the day was over planned and Tim was running on fumes. Not if he got to stand there and bask in Danny’s easy warmth for a while.
Gotham knew he needed it.
The day progressed with surprising ease after that.
Tim had little to say, but Danny filled the silence effortlessly. He had an endless supply of things to chatter about as they wandered the museum, and Tim found he was quite happy to listen. Because it turned out Danny was very passionate about space. Very.
Constellations, distant planets, orbital mechanics, aerospace engineering—once the museum exhibit opened the floodgates so to say, he went on and on, eyes bright and hands moving excitedly as he explained details Tim already knew and even others he didn’t. He spoke with the kind of enthusiasm that made even old information feel newly discovered and bright.
Tim listened to him ramble through the museum visit.
He listened through lunch.
He listened during their walk through the park, where dry autumn leaves littered the path and crunched under their shoes and Danny kept tilting his head up through the branches as though he could see stars even through the gray Gotham daylight.
Before either of them knew it, it was time for dinner. They had to abandon the idea of a movie since the hour was later than they had expected and no one was dumb enough to walk the streets of Gotham at night (at least not without a domino and a cape, but Tim digressed. He wasn’t about to share that little tidbit with Danny. They were nowhere near ready for that).
“What are you in the mood for?” Tim asked as they neared his parked car. “There are a couple of places close by. We can head over and look at the menus.”
He had learned that Danny didn’t drive. Which was odd, given how easily he seemed to commute around the city without a car, but not impossible. Gotham public transit existed, bad as it was. Walking existed. Danny was certainly fit enough to get himself around.
But something in Tim’s gut told him there was something more happening.
…Dammit. As lovely as the day with Danny had been, he couldn’t wait to start his recon.
His Bat paranoia was itching up a storm.
“That sounds great!” Danny agreed easily, walking with his hands tucked casually in his pockets. Unbothered. Cheerful. “Lead the way!”
So Tim did.
Ultimately, they chose a quaint Italian place with warm lighting and narrow tables. Tim indulged in a rich pasta dish while sampling bites of the chicken parmesan Danny had ordered. Conversation continued in an easy current, broken only by pauses for bites of food and sips of their drinks.
Tim found himself relaxed. Content, even. Despite the mysteries growing around Danny, Tim enjoyed his company and soaked in his easy kindness and energy. Tim couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease.
Empty plates signaled the end of their day together.
It felt much too soon, even with Tim antsy to delve into his detective work. He wanted the day to last forever.
Still, time stopped for no man, least of all for him.
Tim paid the check before Danny could stop him, to the other man’s dismay.
“I’m the son of a billionaire, I don’t mind paying,” Tim assured him dryly. “You can cover it next time.”
That had Danny perking up again, something pleased flickering in his expression. Next time.
Tim worked hard not to blush. It wasn’t a date. He hadn’t just asked for a second. He had to remind himself of that. “Can I drive you home?” he asked instead, changing the subject.
“Sure,” Danny agreed easily, smiling all giddily in a way that had Tim’s guts twisting into knots. “Let me just punch in the address for you.”
Perfect. That would make visiting without drawing suspicion so much simpler. Plus, he would know exactly where he had dropped Danny off before beginning his recon. He’d have a much easier time tracking how far away Danny was, now.
As they neared the address, Tim made a herculean effort not to comment how far away his apartment was from The Daily Grind. It itched fiercely at the tip of his tongue. What were you really doing there? he wanted so badly to ask.
Were you looking for me?
They sat in silence during the drive, separated only by the center console and gear shift. Danny’s gaze stayed fixed on the blurred scenery outside the window, distant thoughts seeming to swarm behind the eyes reflected in the glass.
Tim stole several glances at him. What was on his mind? But Tim held back from breaking the silence, lest he start overwhelming Danny with invasive questions and scaring him off.
Danny said nothing the entire time.
When Tim finally pulled up in front of the apartment building, Danny still looked lost in his own head, staring up at the hazy light of the moon. “We’re here,” Tim said, finally breaking the silence that had almost grown tense. “I had a great time, today.”
Danny jerked his head to face Tim, blinking as if returning to himself by degrees. “Huh? What?”
Danny must have used up all of his energy for the day. Tim could relate to that. He may have been more energetic from Danny’s enthusiasm and company, but he was still lacking enough sleep to properly function.
Perhaps a joke would help? “Do you need me to walk you to the door?”
It worked. Danny chuckled. “No, I’ve got it.” He unbuckled his seat belt, reached for the door handle, then looked back at Tim. “See you on Monday?”
“Yeah.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Tim watched as Danny disappeared inside the complex before pulling away, just to ensure that Danny returned safely, of course. One could never be too sure, with Gotham.
Then, Tim drove about a block away. He parked.
He grabbed his messenger bag from the back seat, wholly unnoticed by Danny throughout their day out.
With Danny gone and the day over, he finally let all of his curious ruminations surface. Danny’s sudden appearance at the Daily Grind. The lie about how close he’d lived to the cafe. All the times he had appeared wherever Tim happened to be free and on campus.
There was coincidence, and then there was all of that.
Tim turned the windows black and changed into his recon gear quickly. Black fitted cargo pants, red pockets, asymmetrical shirt with one bare arm and one red sleeve, and enough straps and buckles that Steph’s “stalker outfit” comment taunted him. He pulled the loose collar up over the lower half of his face, clipped his bangs back, and secured his camera around his neck.
Perfect. He was ready. He just needed to find a good perch with a view of Danny’s window, and he’d be set.
But it was not to be.
As Tim approached the complex again from the rooftops, he spied Danny emerging into the night in similarly dark clothing.
He lifted the camera on instinct, adjusted the zoom, and snapped two quick pictures. One of Danny exiting the building. One of him headed into the city afterward.
Where was he going?
Well. There was only one way to find out.
Tim followed after him.
The task was easy enough at first. Danny moved through the city with familiar confidence, using dark streets and quiet rooftops to slip through Gotham’s shadows similar to a Bat, but not enough to shake an actual Bat.
Or so Tim thought.
He took another picture when Danny crossed over a narrow alley by way of a fire escape, barely more than a dark shape against the brick and smog-dimmed moonlight. The image would be grainy, probably, but usable.
He kept tailing him.
Eventually, they reached the cluster of warehouses settled at the docks.
Then he lost sight of Danny in the maze of buildings. There one minute, gone the next.
…Perhaps Tim had underestimated just how Bat-like Danny was. He could already picture Bruce’s disappointed frown.
Tim moved carefully from one structure to the next, sweeping the area in controlled increments, looking for any sign where Danny had disappeared to. He even checked the night vision mode in his camera, as shitty as it was, hoping he was just missing something obvious.
Nothing.
Then a bright green flash split the dark.
Tim pivoted toward it instantly.
In its glow, he caught sight of Danny’s retreating figure, leaving the illuminated warehouse.
There!
The camera came up again.
Click.
Danny’s blurred silhouette.
Click.
The open warehouse door, still bleeding green light.
Click.
…Huh. There was something in the windows of the warehouse. Something… mechanical-looking.
Brows furrowing in concern, Tim crept to the warehouse rather than follow after Danny. By the time he closed in, the glow had faded away and several shadowed figures had fled out of the building and into a nearby car.
Tim dropped behind cover, raised the camera, and caught what he could.
Click. Click. Click.
The figures were indistinct, smeared by darkness and distance, but the gold glinting off them in the smoggy moonlight came through.
It was better than nothing.
He watched, still and silent, as the getaway car’s engine roared to life and the strangers sped off into the distance.
What in the world had he just stumbled across?
He waited for several long minutes after the group cleared out, ears straining for any sign of movement inside the warehouse.
Nothing.
So he ventured in.
The vast space opened up around him the farther he moved in. In the center stood a strange contraption: an octagonal metal frame surrounded by cables, dead terminals, and enough scorched hardware to suggest something had gone very, very wrong. It was a gateway, leading to nowhere.
It reminded Tim eerily of a Zeta tube.
Tim cautiously approached the structure, walking circles around the perimeter, documenting everything with his camera as his mind examined the scene. Warmth rolled off the metal of the contraption, but he heard no hum of electricity even this close to it. Like it had been cut off from its power source very recently.
He took one more picture of the interior panels.
And what happened next, Tim blamed entirely on his lack of sleep.
He stepped inside the gateway.
Staring up at the curling arch above his head, he followed the metal down to the inner walls. Thoughtlessly and with some strange unbidden impulse, he rapped his knuckles against the panels making up the interior.
An electric hum kicked in all around him.
Sparks crawled along the metal. Green light enveloped him. It was far too late to escape.
Fuck, Tim thought.
Then all Tim knew was pain.
It tore through him in blinding currents, too bright, too deep, too much. Every nerve screeched. Every muscle locked. His body was no longer his own, just a thing caught in a circuit never meant to close.
Somewhere distant, someone screamed.
It took him too long to realize the sound was coming from him.
But fuck, who else was it supposed to be? Tim hadn’t called for any backup. No one knew he was there.
His consciousness kept attempting to ebb away into oblivion, only to be snapped back—endless agony ripping through him.
Over.
And over.
And over and over and over.
Gotham, make it stop! he pleaded to any higher powers out there. End it! Let me die! Please!
Death had to be better than this. Anything would be better than this
MAKE. IT. STOP.
He didn’t know when it finally ended.
Only that awareness returned in pieces.
The taste of blood. The stink of smoke. The rough kiss of concrete smashed against his face.
Or was it the other way around, and his face was smashed into the concrete?
He didn’t know.
Heavy eyelids peeled apart to reveal a blurry pair of white shoes—boots, really—hovering inches above the ground in front of him.
He made an attempt to angle his head to see who they were attached to.
He really did.
But his consciousness betrayed him, and the world fell away into darkness.