Infinite Crisis Aftermath

1

'Kon! No!'

Superboy's lifeless body sprawls across bloodstained ground. Tim is yelling, crying, falling over himself to reach his friend. He can see Superman, face buried in his hands. Bruce, leaning over the body, saying something Tim can't quite make out. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters now.

Kon is dead. Dead.

But he has to see him. He has to say goodbye. He wishes Bruce and Clark would just get away from Conner,  leave him in peace. Clark, the bastard - acting like he's sad now, when he was never there for Conner when he needed him. And Bruce, standing over Conner, trying to lift him up. 

Can't they just leave him alone? 

Tears blur Tim's vision. He stumbles, lands hard.

Strong arms wrap around him, scooping him up.

'Conner?' Tim whispers, knowing it's not but hoping, hoping so hard and maybe, maybe it could be true.

'Tim, I'm so sorry - ' 

Dick's voice cracks, choked with emotion.

'Put me down! I need - I need to see him - ' Tim struggles, trying to break Dick's embrace. He struggles to see over his brother's shoulder. 

Kon, broken. Bruce, frantically shaking his head and mouthing something to Dick. Tim can feel his brother tense.

'Please, Dick! I have to! You - you don't understand, it's Conner, I have to - '

'Bruce says no.'

'What?' Tim angrily shakes free his tears, furious at Nightwing. 

'Look, Tim, I - I know it's hard, right now, but it's for the best. You - you'll understand later. It's for - for the best, Tim.' Dick sounds like he's trying to convince himself, too. 

'Please, Dick. Please.' Tim's sobbing into Dick's shoulder, barely even struggling. Dick's heart lurches. 

'Let's go home, Babybird.'

Superman and Wonder Woman have hauled Conner onto a makeshift stretcher consisted of Superman's cape. Bruce is threatening someone on the phone. And then they're carrying Conner's body away, leaving behind a puddle of rust-coloured blood. Dick shifts Tim so he's facing the other way - he can't see this. Superboy, always strong and confident, reduced to just a limp body and a trail of blood.

'They're taking him away, Dick! No!'

Tim lurches towards Conner. Dick nearly drops him, but manages to cling on. He starts to run away from the scene, his long strides jerking Tim against his chest. Dick takes him past the rubble, through bodies and debris and into the city. He knows the city, and right now it feels like the safest place for Tim.

Tim...

Tim, clinging tightly to his chest, a child again. Somewhere along the journey, he's stopped yelling and calling out for Conner, his muffled voice subdued. He quietly sobs into Dick's costume, warm tears soaking the fabric. Dick can't stand to look down at him. If he sees those tiny shoulders shaking, he's going to break down and he knows it. He has to be strong for Tim.

Most of the citizens are in their homes now, watching the carnage ensue on their televisions. But Gotham is the city that never sleeps, and the blinking neon lights reveal places still open. Dick figures it's as good a place as any to rest for a minute.

He stops and tries to put Tim down, but his brother clings on. Dick doesn't argue. 

'Hey, babybird,' he whispers. Tim's tearstained face peers up at him. Dick's heart aches. Tim is twelve. Too young for this kind of heartbreak. First his dad, and now... this. 

 'Do you want to get a drink while we're here? Eat something, it'll make you feel better.'

He waits. He's not really expecting a response.

'You want me to take you home, Tim?'

Tim stutters, trying to get words out.

'I want Conner.' Then he's crying again. Dick feels tears burn his own eyes.

He takes Tim home.