Fact Check
A quick drabble for @ofviolentdeath that’s been on my mind for aaaaages.
When Kit walked back into the living room, Robin was sitting on the couch. One of his gloves was off. Kit’s favorite mug rested in his hands, his grip on it so tight that Kit could see the knuckles turning white. If he wasn’t careful, he’d break it. But it wouldn’t be the first casualty of their dishes. The psychic was staring into the cup like it held the answers to the universe, but his gaze didn’t have that unfocused look it did when he was mid-vision. This was the aftermath of having seen something. Maybe something he didn’t necessarily like. Kit’s stomach churned.
Robin’s powers had always made Kit vaguely uncomfortable, but they’d more or less agreed that Robin wouldn’t intentionally look into Kit’s future and things were fine.
This was a decided violation of that trust.
A tired breath escaped Robin and he glanced Kit’s way, still holding onto the cup like it was the only thing anchoring him to this reality. “She’s telling the truth, you know. About being your kid.”
He nodded, feeling too exhausted to deal with this. Feeling the years of that previous lifetime aging him in this one. “I know. Started remembering bits and pieces of it after Willow smacked me upside the head with her gun.” Not a pleasant way to remember having kids. But none of the memories were all that pleasant so he supposed it fit.
“You know?” The knuckles got whiter. Kit had liked that mug. “Why the fuck haven’t you done anything about it?”
“I’m not… that person anymore. And I don’t think I can be that person again. He was shitty and they’re better off without him.”
“Yeah and he’s gone. What about this person?”
“I don’t know if their mom is going to want this person. And I don’t know if it’s a good idea for any version of me to get back into their lives.”
“Don’t be stupid.” His grip loosened on the mug and he set it on the coffee table with slightly more force than needed. Kit winced at the sound. “They want you back. And it’s never a bad thing to have a family member in your life who gives half a shit about you.”
They didn’t talk much about their families, but Kit knew things were strained-at-best for Robin. “I need time, okay? I need to sort my shit out. They deserve a version of me who at least has some idea of how the fuck to be a functioning human.”
“You’re more functioning than me,” Robin reminded, sliding the glove back onto his hand..
“No offense, but that’s not hard. I’ll get there eventually, okay? I will--”
“I know. I see the future, remember? Not the past. But get your shit together already. You’re mortal. You don’t have time to waste.” He stood, straightening the sleeves on his cardigan. “I’m going out.”
Kit’s eyes narrowed. “Where?”
Robin shot him an irritated glance. “Your daughter--” Kit winced again, but he wasn’t sure if it was in response to the words or the venom in them, “--decided to fuck with my powers today for shits and giggles. I need a fucking drink. Or a few. Are you going to stop me?”
“I should.”
Robin arched a brow.
“Fine. Fuck. Go. Don’t die.”
He didn’t say anything else, but he slammed the door on the way out.