zeegoeshere

I don't even know what this *is.* It's not really fic, it's just another byproduct of my sad, sad obsession. Also, it's totally the fault of petronelle, monkeycrackmary, jamjar and everyone else but me.




"Oh. God." Tim feels like he's going to throw up. He *knows* he's swaying on his feet.

Superboy--Conner--the *robot* smirks at him. "Dude. The look on your face is priceless."

"Oh crap." Hiro is in the doorway, looking miserable. "I--I didn't mean for you to find him."

Tim grits his teeth. "What. *Why.*" He looks away from the robot's grinning face.

Hiro meets Tim's eyes and flinches, looks away. "I was *lonely.* And--and it's not like you ever come around anymore, and none of the other Titans remember I exist, and I think Batman hates me. And I just--I couldn't just let him die."

Tim thinks of the cloning labs back at the Tower and understands a little. "This--this isn't him. It's--it's a *robot*."

"I know that," Hiro snaps. "Geez, just because I spend all my time up here doesn't mean I don't *know* that. It's just--" his jaw works, and he doesn't meet Tim's eyes. "I told you. I was lonely."

Tim understands that, too.

***

Superficially, the robot is an exact match. In skin tone, muscle mass, eye color--even its *voice.* Its smile is--slightly off, but still close enough to make pretending easier.

Hiro didn't seem surprised when Tim commissioned another machine from him. He seemed a little sad, a little wistful maybe, and if Kon had been there he would have reached out to him. Clapped him on the back, or ruffled his hair, or invited him back to the Tower. Something.

But Kon is gone, and Tim has no idea what he would say to Hiro if they actually tried to talk. And he... he doesn't think that visiting the Titans would be particularly good for Hiro *or* the Titans, at this point.

So he gives Hiro the specifics for the robot, and Hiro thankfully doesn't ask why the robot should be programmed to say 'liittle buddy' and 'chum' and 'wonder boy.' It's not something Tim thinks he could explain.

He doesn't turn it on for days, just lets it sit in his apartment. He feels foolish and naive and pathetic, and he comes close to destroying the damn thing several times. But one night he comes home from tangling from Ivy, and his body is one giant rash from whatever chemical had been in the vines Ivy had wrapped around him. All he can think about is the way Kon had looked the first time they fought Ivy together, and he finds himself reaching over to press the buttons on the robot's palm, activating it.

"Dude!" The robot gives him a crooked grin, and--god, even its *body* language--

"Could you--" Tim starts to say, his voice scratchy, but the robot is already lying down beside him on the bed.

"Whatever you want, Wonder Boy."

God, that stupid nickname. It makes Tim start laughing before he can stop himself, and the robot is still grinning. Its gaze makes Tim uncomfortable, so he presses his face against Kon's t-shirt.

It doesn't smell like Kon, and its chest doesn't rise and fall with breath underneath Tim's cheek. But it's still an illusion that holds... some comfort, at least.

"Hey, Robin, don't worry. Things are going to be all right." The robot's voice is ridiculously cheerful, and when Tim feels its large, warm hand on the small of his back, he realizes he's shaking. Badly.

"No, they won't," he says, muffling his words against its chest.

"Sure they will, little buddy!" Tim laughs again, feeling slightly hysterical. He's groping blindly, wrapping his arms around the robot before the notion is more than a half-formed thought in his head.

The robot's arms wrap around Tim's midsection and squeeze lightly. "Harder," Tim blurts out, and--oh.

If he analyzes this, he'll find that it's not, actually, that similar to being bear-hugged by Kon, and yet.

Tim shudders, and closes his eyes.

***

It becomes something like an absurd, bizarre, and deeply dysfunctional ritual. Most of Tim's patrols these days end with him beaten, bruised and bloody in new horrific ways (a year ago he would consider his current behavior reckless and inefficient, but the truth is that he's actually *more* effective this way), and when he returns to his bedroom every night (technically, morning) the robot is waiting for him.

Usually, Tim programs it to not talk much. The voice is--the voice is close enough to be painful, but not close enough, and. It's enough to curl up against its side and feel the pressure of arms that could snap him in two, wrapping around him and holding him tight. It would be uncomfortable for most people--it *is* uncomfortable, but not in a way that Tim doesn't need. The robot holds him hard enough that he can't even shake. It makes it bearable to wake up the next morning and do what he needs to, despite the fact that Kon's body is in the ground.

He gets hard, sometimes, and the robot--Tim isn't sure what Hiro programmed it to do, but it reacts. Questioning hands sliding lower on Tim's body, its leg shifting, and Tim always says "No." It would be too easy to--take advantage. To let himself get lost in the illusion that this really *is* Kon, and. Better to just close his eyes and lie still until his erection subsides and he falls asleep.

***

When Two-Face blows up the building Tim's living in, the robot saves Tim's life. Rolls over to cover him automatically, and when Tim comes to the artificial skin on the 'bot's back is gone, exposing circuitry and metal. It can still function surprisingly well, considering; Hiro really is a genius, and his design is nearly flawless.

It says his name, and Tim knows that it only stutters because its voice box is damaged. But it's still Kon's voice, saying his name with a broken, bleak voice, and Tim feels his eyes burn with tears, even though he's already shed too many.

Hiro repairs it, of course. Good as new--better, even, considering that Hiro's made some considerable advancements. But the voice is still slightly wrong.

Batman buys him a new building, one that won't blow up as easily.

***

Bringing the 'bot to the Tower was an impulse decision. Tim knows that Wonder Girl is going to be there with her rage and her blame, and that Rose Wilson will try to seduce him again, and he feels nauseous at the idea of navigating it all. He leaves the robot in the bat-plane, but it flies silently into Tim's bedroom when Tim calls for it.

He doesn't allow himself to fall asleep in its arms. He gives himself a few hours to breathe, and then goes down to his lab. The robot follows him; no one is awake at this hour to see.

The 'bot floats in a corner while Tim works. Its eyes are bright and the look on its face is chipper, enthusiastic. Tim is asking it what it thinks of all this before he can stop himself.

"It's pretty rad, man," The 'bot says. Tim wonders what gave Hiro the desire to give the 'bot phrases that Kon hasn't used since he was less than a year old. "You freaky Bats can do *anything.*"

Tim smiles. "I'm hoping so."






Omg writing that depressed me so much. I now need chocolate and schmoop and porn. GAH.