Fic: Earned and Inborn
Title: Earned and Inborn
Author: angel_gidget
Rating: PG
Word Count: 898
Disclaimer: So not mine, man.
Summary: Tim has some tough news to break to Chris Kent. That news has a name: Damian.
Notes: Done for darthbatgirl upon request.
The automatic muscles and lack of body-fat thanks to the yellow sun was not a Kryptonian trait. It was a trait of the house of El. That meant that Chris Kent, born Lor of the house of Zod, was not so lucky as to have it. If he wanted to look like a superhero, he had to work for it. That was where his hero came in.
"Done with the laps?"
"Yup!"
"Good. Now get down and give me fifty, soldier."
"Yes, sir!"
Robin was funny when he talked like that. Even funnier when Batman caught him talking like that.
When Chris had first started, he didn't think he'd ever get past ten push-ups. The pig-iron watch at his wrist made him feel the pull of Earth's core, making him feel sluggish and heavy. It was like being perpetually ill or sleepy... and immune to caffeine. He finally understood how humans always trudged around on the planet's crust, unable to soar or float as he had in the Phantom zone. The body had weight, so everyone had to walk... but then he'd seen Robin do cartwheels. And flips. And glides along a grapple-line.
As he grew in the superhero community, Chris later saw heros who were even better at such things. Batman. Nightwing. But it didn't change the fact that Robin was the first. It didn't change the fact that Robin was the only one who really took the time to teach him. Because Tim was just that schway.
Tim. Chris was still giddy that he knew more than a code-name now. That was a big thing in the Bat-clan as the Superboy-in-training quickly learned.
"I checked the mirror this morning. Look! Biceps!"
Tim chuckled.
"Congratulations."
Floor exercises came next. When it finally came time to hit the bars, Chris noted that his mentor seemed distracted.
"Is everything okay?"
"Hm? Er, yes. There's... there's someone you'll be meeting today."
"Someone new?"
"Yes."
Big stuff. Batman never let anyone in lightly. And if the person passed all the muster, shouldn't Tim be more... excited? Happy?
"Is he nice? Or she?"
Robin looked like he'd been caught. Like Batman had seen him doing a Bat-imitation or something. It was off. And worrying.
"It might actually be better if you remove the watch before meeting him. Just to be safe. He's going to be the new Robin."
WHAT?
"WHAT?"
Robin's--Tim's--shoulders sagged and he wore a tired expression and he rubbed at the scrunched-up frown between his eyebrows.
"It's complicated, but it's where everything is ultimately heading."
"But... but.. no! No one can replace you!"
Tim--Robin!--smiled rather sadly and knowingly as he laid a hand on Chris's shoulder.
"It's flattering that you think so. But this... pattern was established before I came along. And I--I just don't fit the profile anymore, Chris."
"This a college thing, isn't it?"
He'd hated when Tim went to college. He never had time to play or train, and aside from a few patrols, he'd been stuck on that boring 'campus' thing and it was awful. Summer had taken forever to come.
"Yes. Partly. And I'm too old to really--I'm not out of the game. Not permanently. But I need time. And later, I'll try something new. For now, you will meet Damian. I... I hope you'll be friends."
Chris tried to pay attention to the details the way Tim taught him.
"You don't like him, do you?"
"I don't want you to judge him with any of my prejudices."
Chris sighed and unlatched the watch. He began to hover above the ground almost instantly, noting the difference that "powerless training" made in his powered-up state. The rush of energy. The lack of much-hated gravity. It was so hard to enjoy it knowing that he was about to be introduced to some... impostor.
No prejudices. Right.
He heard a click and echoing steps from the house-entrance of the bat-cave. A boy his own age with spiky black hair and a black-and-white bodysuit strode in with his nose upturned.
"This is the--hmm--Superboy, correct?"
Could he have made 'Superboy' sound anymore childish?
"Chris, Damian. Damian, this is Christopher. He'll be working with you on the beginner's cases I've laid out for the both of you."
The new boy sneered.
"Cases? Am I to use him to wrestle the viscious paper-work to the ground?"
Chris found that to be the last straw.
"You're one to talk, nasal-kid! Exactly how are you supposed to replace Tim?"
"Chris!"
Robin's (the real one's) reprimand was terse and sharp.
"Sorry."
The kid with too much product in his hair stared at him and then, seeming to contemplate for a moment, decided to dignify at least one of Chris's comments with an answer.
"I simply fail to see how the muscle of an operation is supposed to be of any service regarding detective work. For that matter, I don't see how in-born Kryptonian strength is supposed to receive equal laud to earned physical speed and cunning tactics. Suppose you lose your powers? Kryptonite in all it's forms is becoming an increasingly-common commodity. And then there's magic to consider..."
Chris watched in a rather detached manner as the little wind-up boy continued. He spared a glance in Tim's direction and saw... an apology. And amusement.
Chris smirked back.
This kid was so stupid.
He just might have fun setting him straight.
Author: angel_gidget
Rating: PG
Word Count: 898
Disclaimer: So not mine, man.
Summary: Tim has some tough news to break to Chris Kent. That news has a name: Damian.
Notes: Done for darthbatgirl upon request.
The automatic muscles and lack of body-fat thanks to the yellow sun was not a Kryptonian trait. It was a trait of the house of El. That meant that Chris Kent, born Lor of the house of Zod, was not so lucky as to have it. If he wanted to look like a superhero, he had to work for it. That was where his hero came in.
"Done with the laps?"
"Yup!"
"Good. Now get down and give me fifty, soldier."
"Yes, sir!"
Robin was funny when he talked like that. Even funnier when Batman caught him talking like that.
When Chris had first started, he didn't think he'd ever get past ten push-ups. The pig-iron watch at his wrist made him feel the pull of Earth's core, making him feel sluggish and heavy. It was like being perpetually ill or sleepy... and immune to caffeine. He finally understood how humans always trudged around on the planet's crust, unable to soar or float as he had in the Phantom zone. The body had weight, so everyone had to walk... but then he'd seen Robin do cartwheels. And flips. And glides along a grapple-line.
As he grew in the superhero community, Chris later saw heros who were even better at such things. Batman. Nightwing. But it didn't change the fact that Robin was the first. It didn't change the fact that Robin was the only one who really took the time to teach him. Because Tim was just that schway.
Tim. Chris was still giddy that he knew more than a code-name now. That was a big thing in the Bat-clan as the Superboy-in-training quickly learned.
"I checked the mirror this morning. Look! Biceps!"
Tim chuckled.
"Congratulations."
Floor exercises came next. When it finally came time to hit the bars, Chris noted that his mentor seemed distracted.
"Is everything okay?"
"Hm? Er, yes. There's... there's someone you'll be meeting today."
"Someone new?"
"Yes."
Big stuff. Batman never let anyone in lightly. And if the person passed all the muster, shouldn't Tim be more... excited? Happy?
"Is he nice? Or she?"
Robin looked like he'd been caught. Like Batman had seen him doing a Bat-imitation or something. It was off. And worrying.
"It might actually be better if you remove the watch before meeting him. Just to be safe. He's going to be the new Robin."
WHAT?
"WHAT?"
Robin's--Tim's--shoulders sagged and he wore a tired expression and he rubbed at the scrunched-up frown between his eyebrows.
"It's complicated, but it's where everything is ultimately heading."
"But... but.. no! No one can replace you!"
Tim--Robin!--smiled rather sadly and knowingly as he laid a hand on Chris's shoulder.
"It's flattering that you think so. But this... pattern was established before I came along. And I--I just don't fit the profile anymore, Chris."
"This a college thing, isn't it?"
He'd hated when Tim went to college. He never had time to play or train, and aside from a few patrols, he'd been stuck on that boring 'campus' thing and it was awful. Summer had taken forever to come.
"Yes. Partly. And I'm too old to really--I'm not out of the game. Not permanently. But I need time. And later, I'll try something new. For now, you will meet Damian. I... I hope you'll be friends."
Chris tried to pay attention to the details the way Tim taught him.
"You don't like him, do you?"
"I don't want you to judge him with any of my prejudices."
Chris sighed and unlatched the watch. He began to hover above the ground almost instantly, noting the difference that "powerless training" made in his powered-up state. The rush of energy. The lack of much-hated gravity. It was so hard to enjoy it knowing that he was about to be introduced to some... impostor.
No prejudices. Right.
He heard a click and echoing steps from the house-entrance of the bat-cave. A boy his own age with spiky black hair and a black-and-white bodysuit strode in with his nose upturned.
"This is the--hmm--Superboy, correct?"
Could he have made 'Superboy' sound anymore childish?
"Chris, Damian. Damian, this is Christopher. He'll be working with you on the beginner's cases I've laid out for the both of you."
The new boy sneered.
"Cases? Am I to use him to wrestle the viscious paper-work to the ground?"
Chris found that to be the last straw.
"You're one to talk, nasal-kid! Exactly how are you supposed to replace Tim?"
"Chris!"
Robin's (the real one's) reprimand was terse and sharp.
"Sorry."
The kid with too much product in his hair stared at him and then, seeming to contemplate for a moment, decided to dignify at least one of Chris's comments with an answer.
"I simply fail to see how the muscle of an operation is supposed to be of any service regarding detective work. For that matter, I don't see how in-born Kryptonian strength is supposed to receive equal laud to earned physical speed and cunning tactics. Suppose you lose your powers? Kryptonite in all it's forms is becoming an increasingly-common commodity. And then there's magic to consider..."
Chris watched in a rather detached manner as the little wind-up boy continued. He spared a glance in Tim's direction and saw... an apology. And amusement.
Chris smirked back.
This kid was so stupid.
He just might have fun setting him straight.