Somehow Bart makes it through another "introductions and team-building exercises" session with his new RA and floor-mates. He's really hoping he'll be able to afford a place of his own somehow next year, now that he's getting paid as a Teen Titan. Not that he doesn't like his floor-mates, they all seem very nice, but it's so hard to explain why he's not always around on weekends when they want to throw parties.

He introduces himself as Bart-who-likes-bananas, following Steve-who-likes-seafood and Madoka-who-likes-Melon.

Their RA, Maria-who-likes-Motorbikes, is no Emily but seems nice enough.

Bernard (who likes bats, apparently) is on his floor again, and he greets Bart with a hearty slap on the back as soon as Maria releases them.

"How was break?" asks Bernard, following Bart into his room without permission. Bart lets him since he knows better than to keep anything incriminating around his room, having spent many precious microseconds last year cleaning up his room in the time between opening the door and his friends being able to see inside.

"Good," says Bart absently.

"Relaxing?" asks Bernard. "Mine was amazing. I think I spent all of it on the beach."

"Not really," says Bart, unable to lie about this. "But it was good all the same."

"How was Japan?"

"Er," says Bart. "I didn't go to Japan?" Except when they were chasing the Fearsome Five, but surely Bernard couldn't mean—

"I saw it on the news," says Bernard casually. "You don't have to lie to me."

"I don't know what you—"

"Bart, I know, all right? You don't have to hide with me."

Bart stares at him.

"I know about Tim, too."

"Ohmygodhe'sgoingtokillme," says Bart. "Not that he would have any reason to I mean because I don't know what you're talking about I've never been to Japan."

"I figured out who YOU were because of Tim," adds Bernard. "Not the other way around."

"Oh grife," groans Bart again, and he just used a future curse word, didn't he? He is dead. He should just go turn himself in now, it will hurt less.

"I knew before I met you," Bernard repeats. "I've known about Tim for years. Since we were in high school together. I figured it out then."

Bart covers his face with his hands.

"I didn't figure out about you until I saw you two together when Superboy came." He pauses for a moment. "Although in retrospect it should have been obvious."

Bart peers at him from between the fingers of his hands, which are still covering his face and making it difficult to make eye-contact. "Does he know you know?"

"I don't know," says Bernard. "Maybe. He always seems to know more than he lets on. But we haven't seen much of each other since I figured it out."

"Then he's not going to believe me," says Bart, hiding behind his hands again.

"Bart, you're being ridiculous. You and Tim are friends."

"Some things are more important than friends," mutters Bart.

"I don't think they are," says Bernard.

Bart uncovers his face. "I'm not sure Tim thinks so," he says. "He takes himself very seriously."

Bernard laughs. "Not as seriously as he used to, though. I suppose I have you to thank for that?"

Bart blinks at him. "I don't think so? He and—" He snaps his mouth shut. "I'm not the one he's really close to."

Bernard looks at him with interest, but Bart shakes his head firmly. "No, no, no, I am not talking about this. We are not talking about this."

"I thought you'd be relieved," says Bernard. "You don't have to lie any more. And I can cover for you when you need to run out."

Last semester Tim arranged some kind of fake job for him with a Wayne Industries subsidiary in the city. Bart tells everybody it's a basic office job in a secured building and he has a perfect excuse for not being around on weekends, but he still tries to put in a token appearance in the dorm on most of his Saturday nights.

Bart considers Bernard's offer for a moment. "It would be nice," he says hesitantly. "But... I wish you hadn't told me you know about Tim. Not that there's anything special about Tim!"

Bernard is still giving him that bemused look. "How about I talk to Tim about this?" he suggests. "I can make certain he isn't going to kill you."

"He wouldn't actually kill me," Bart concedes, after some thought. "It would be too messy and he'd have to hide the body and explain it to Wa— to everybody else, and Tim hates waste. But he'll be really really mad at me and I don't want to make him mad." He pauses. "Sorry sorry, sheer terror makes me act my age."

Bernard stares at him for a moment. "I really do not want to know the context behind that, do I," he says.

Bart shakes his head. "No. I can't explain anyway. Secrets."

Bernard looks a little hurt.

"Not mine," adds Bart. "Well, not entirely. So I can't tell you."

"Why do you keep everything a secret anyway?" asks Bernard. "Why are you even at college? Couldn't you just... hero all the time?"

Having spent several years asking Max the same question it feels strange to be suddenly trying to justify it now. "I like being a hero, but I like not being a hero as well. I like learning things and going to parties and helping student clubs. I didn't have any real friends when I was little so I like having them now." He shrugged. "It's isolating if you never get to talk to normal people. Heroes see the big picture but normal people are nice too, and I like to spend time with them so I remember what I'm fighting for."

Bernard gives him a funny little smile. "I think I followed that," he says, and Bart wonders how quickly he'd been speaking. "You read a lot, huh," he adds, looking around the room and letting his eyes land on a pile of books.

"I'm a fast reader," says Bart, and then flushes as Bernard starts laughing.

"Can I ask about that?" he says. "About being fast, I mean?"

Bart shrugs. In for a penny, in for a pound. "I can't promise to answer."

"Have you always been this way?"

Bart nods. "Always, since I was born. I don't remember ever not being fast."

"It must be a bit of a drag, talking to us slow people then."

"I'm used to it," says Bart magnanimously. "Ma— my mentor was always teaching me how to slow down. I got in a lot of practice in high school." He feels a little twinge and wonders what Max would have made of this situation.

He would have been sarcastic, Bart decides.

—

He's in class when the wave hits him. The world seems to slow to almost a completely standstill; his professor frozen mid-word, his classmates almost stationary. Then, just as quickly, it speeds up again, until it's going faster than he can keep track of—

Then he passes out.

When he wakes up again, it's to one of his classmates shaking him. "Oy. Oy, Allen, you okay?" The words seem too fast, or are they too slow, or...

The other students on his row are gathering around with various expressions of concern.

And oh, he knows this feeling now. He's running at normal speed.

The speed force has collapsed.

Somehow, he manages to convince his mouth to move; convince muscles that are used to running at a fraction of their capabilities to work as hard as possible. "I'm fine," he breathes. "Don't need hospital. Just rest. Not enough... breakfast."

"I'll walk you back to your dorm," says Bernard, and Bart thanks his lucky stars that this is one of the classes he shares with Bernard. He'd forgotten what a relief it is to have a friend who knows his secret. He hadn't had a Carol in Keystone and it had been a special kind of hell.

The walk back to the dorms seems to take both an eternity and no time at all. By the time they reach the stairs he's starting to get the hang of moving in normal time, but he's still finding it hard to follow his thoughts.

Once they're safely in Bart's dorm room, Bernard fixes him with a concerned stare. "So what happened? I've never seen you get sick."

"Not sick," says Bart. "Speed gone. Don't know why." He should call Wally, but... he doesn't think he can hold down a conversation yet.

Bernard doesn't look any less worried. "You have a fever," he says, laying a hand on Bart's forehead. "Are you sure you're not sick?"

Bart blinks at him. "Speed gone," he repeats.

"I'm calling Tim," says Bernard.

Bart tries to get up the energy to protest, but it doesn't come. He doesn't want Tim to see him like this. Tim probably never gets sick. He definitely never loses his powers because he doesn't have powers. Powers are a weakness, Tim would say.

If he concentrates, he can hear Bernard on the phone. "It's Bart. He just collapsed in class and he's burning up. He's muttering something about speed."

That sounds bad, thinks Bart fuzzily. He coughs roughly, but he can't get the words out to reassure Bernard that he's not doing any drugs.

"Tim says he'll make some phone calls and come right over," says Bernard. "You need to sleep."

Bernard doesn't need to ask him twice.

When he wakes, Bernard is gone, but he isn't alone in his room. He blinks. "What happened to Bernard?" His throat is hoarse and the world still isn't right. He's too slow, and the rest of the world is too fast.

"I sent him back to class," says Tim. "You were sleeping."

Bart decides he doesn't have the energy to figure out if he should be hurt or not that Bernard left.

"I called Wally," Tim continues. "He says the speed force has disappeared, and he's investigating it."

Bart frowns. "Should we be talking about this?"

Tim sighs heavily. "I'm jamming. Nobody's over-hearing a thing from in this room. Give me some credit."

"World's greatest detective," slurs Bart.

Tim gives him a mock salute. "Don't you forget it. I also checked with Linda, and she says that Wally isn't running a fever or croaking like a frog."

Bart blinks at him.

"I expect your immune system was fighting off something or other when it hit," says Tim. "You don't get sick very often, right?"

Bart shakes his head. "Last time was in... junior high. I threw up on bank robbers."

Tim almost looks amused. "I think your metabolism takes care of most normal bugs. But when it lost that boost from the speed force, you succumbed to it all at once.

"Hate being sick," mutters Bart.

"Sit up, I have some cold meds for you. They should take care of some of the fog in your brain."

"Meds don't work," Bart insists fuzzily. "Metabolism."

Tim sighs. "They'll work this time. Trust me."

"'kay," says Bart. Trusting Tim is easy.

He manages to lever himself into a sitting position and takes the glass of water and pair of pills Tim offers him. When he swallows, it's like being stabbed in the throat with a dull blade. He coughs for about a minute afterwards.

"How's... Jay?"

"Fine, under the circumstances," says Tim. "And the twins are fine too. It's just you, I'm afraid."

"Sorry," says Bart. He collapses back on the pillows and closes his eyes again.

"Don't go to sleep," Tim advises him. "This stuff gives you crazy dreams."

"Won't sleep," Bart promises. "Keep talking."

"I've been watching the police alerts for any supervillain activity that might indicate who could have brought down the speed force," says Tim.

"And?" prompts Bart, after a moment's silence during which he concludes that Tim probably got distracted looking at his laptop.

"What? Oh, nothing promising so far. All my leads are petering out."

Bart opens his eyes to confirm his guess. Tim is totally absorbed in his laptop. "Were you in class?" asks Bart, suddenly realising Tim is in his student "uniform" of jeans, a band t-shirt and a hoodie. He'd once asked Tim what he thought of the band on his shirt and Tim had just looked at him blankly.

"I wasn't doing anything important," says Tim.

Bart's brain feels like it's starting to kick into gear again, so he carefully sits up. He would feel guilty, but he's pretty certain Tim will be able to catch up on anything he missed. "Thank you for coming," he says instead.

Tim shrugs. "By the way, Bernard says I should apologise for not telling you he probably knew about Robin."

Before Bart can think of anything to say to that, Bernard himself knocks on the door and enters without waiting for a response.

"You're awake," he says.

"Tim gave me drugs," Bart explains helpfully.

Bernard's eyes scan the room until they land on a package lying on Bart's desk. "You gave him meds with pseudoephedrine? Are you crazy?"

"Do I look crazy?" says Tim mildly. "Look at him."

Bernard peers at Bart closely, and Bart edges away.

"He actually look less hyper than usual," says Bernard, in wonder. "He almost looks... calm."

"See?" says Tim. "I know what I'm doing."

"I'm right here," Bart protests.

"I brought chicken noodle soup," says Bernard, holding up a shopping bag. "And orange juice."

"You mean, instant ramen?" says Tim, glancing at the bag.

"Instant ramen is a filthy lie," says Bart seriously. "It isn't even close to instant."

Tim and Bernard look at him oddly for a few seconds, then Bernard starts laughing.

"No, seriously!" Bart insists. "I've been living in normal time for hours now and I can still tell that it isn't going to cook instantly."

"Make the soup," says Tim, with another of those almost-smiles.

—

Being sick isn't any more fun at 7-going-on-19 than it was at three. He's managed to get on the phone to Wally, but Wally doesn't have any more news than Tim does.

"I'm doing my best, Bart," says Wally dismissively. "I don't have time to talk to you about how we haven't found anything yet."

Bart sighs.

Carol calls and he whines at her about how awful he feels and how much it sucks being stuck in his dorm, and afterwards he feels a bit better, even though she wasn't really very sympathetic.

His friends have been coming by with regular gifts of whatever home remedies their parents recommend for 'flu. His desk is piled high with flat lemon-lime soda, three bottles of orange juice, echinacea tablets, hot water bottles, ice packs, ginger, honey and lemon juice drinks and any number of other unidentifiable objects.

"You brought it all on yourself, really," says his RA, shaking her head at the mess. "You should have had the flu jab like they tell you to."


Since he can't explain that the flu jab wouldn't have done anything for him, he keeps his mouth shut and nods. "Yes, Maria."

"Have you been getting your classmates to take notes for you?"

Bart already memorised the textbooks for most of his classes and doesn't really need anybody to take notes, but he nods anyway. "Most of them. I don't know anybody in my economics classes."

"Which ones are you taking? I'll see what I can do."

Tim arrives just as she's leaving.

"Who are you, anyway?" she asks. "Who keeps letting you up?"

Tim throws on his most charming smile. "I'm a friend of Bart's," he says. "And I went to highschool with Bernard. I buzz him to come down and walk me up."

Bart is not entirely convinced that Tim is being truthful - he's definitely seen Tim around some times Bernard is safely in class. But he nods in agreement.

This time it seems he's telling the truth, though. Bernard sticks his head around the door and waves. "Oh, hi, Maria," he says.

Maria looks between Tim and Bart carefully, and part of Bart wants to pre-emptively deny that they're dating. (Another part wants to let her keep her misconception. Tim would make a fantastic boyfriend.)

"Take care of him," she says, eventually.

"I'll do my best," promises Tim. She smiles back at him, looking almost shy, before leaving Bart's room.

"You could charm the pants off a donkey," mutters Bernard in wonder.

Tim raises an eyebrow.

Bernard shakes his head. "Nothing." He drops a canvas bag by the side of Bart's bed. "I brought you some games, and notes from class."

Bart has tried booting up his Gamestation a couple of times, but the screen makes him dizzy and his reflexes are so terrible he always gives up in disgust a few minutes in.

When he explains this, Tim gains a plotting sort of smile. "You mean, there's a chance it'll actually be a fair fight?"

"He never competes in the dorm gaming tournaments," says Bernard. "I never could figure out why, he always kicks my ass."

"Because it's boring," says Bart. "They're all too slow."

"This is our chance for revenge," Tim tells Bernard.

Bart sighs. "I thought you were here to make me feel better."

"Did we say that?" asks Bernard innocently.

—

The pile of unread books by the side of his bed keeps growing smaller and smaller - he can't read as quickly as he's used to, but he has plenty of time on his hands now. He wonders how normal people ever manage to get bored, when they have to read so slowly. Pretty soon he'll have to send someone out for another library run.

As if his thoughts have summoned him, Tim appears at Bart's door.

Bart narrows his eyes at him. "I know Bernard didn't let you in this time. He's in class."

Tim gives him his "trained by the world's greatest detective" look and settles himself at Bart's desk.

"Everybody already thinks we're dating," Bart points out. "I don't think this is helping."

"Does that bother you?" asks Tim, voice so bland Bart can't read anything into it at all.

"No," Bart says. "It's just not true, that's all. And it would be confusing if either of us started dating somebody else." Plus, if he really thinks about it, totally unrealistic. Somebody like Tim's carefully maintained persona would never be seen dating somebody like Bart.

Bart returns to his novel, which is about a man that gets sucked into a magical world and then discovers that he can do magic by singing and promptly begins recycling pop songs from Earth into magic spells. Tim is completely absorbed in his laptop. Bart suspects there might be big things going on in the Bat family, but Tim isn't being very forthcoming with information about it.

He's just about to suggest that Tim let him go to the library himself before he goes completely stir-crazy when the world leaps into fast-forward.

He watches everything spin past him for several crazy seconds, then it drops to a standstill. Just as he has time to think 'what, again?' everything starts moving again, only in slow motion.

It's a familiar slow motion, at least. Bart clears his throat, trying to get used to living in relative time again.

"Tim?" he says. "I think the speed force is back."

Tim turns to stare at him for a moment. "I couldn't understand a word of that," he says. "But I gather you were trying to say the speed force is back."

It's like listening to an audio file reduced to so slow it's practically ambient, but he manages to understand Tim. He nods.

Bart's phone rings.

"It's Wally," says Tim, picking it up and handing it to Bart.

Bart picks it up, and after the third time manages to unlock the screen. "Hello?" he asks, without even trying to slow it down. Wally will understand.

"Did you do something?" asks Wally. He's running a little slower than Bart, but it's not too bad.

Bart shakes his head, then remembers he's on the phone. "No. I was hoping you did."

Wally swears under his breath. "I'm going to call Jay." He hangs up before Bart can respond.

Tim is staring at him in abject fascination. "Wally have any explanation?"

Bart shakes his head.

"Damn," says Tim. "How are you feeling?"

"Aside from the world running at a fraction of its usual speed?" says Bart, as slowly and carefully as he can manage. "I feel fine."

"Guess the speed force brought your immune system up to speed," says Tim.

"About time," mutters Bart. "I want to go running," he says.

"Let's give it a day," says Tim. "Just to be sure the speed force is back for good. I'd hate for you to get stranded in the middle of the ocean."

Tim is worried about him. Bart should feel offended, since he's not a child anymore and he's perfectly competent and capable of taking care of himself these days, but the feeling appears to have been replaced with a warm, fuzzy glow.

"All right," says Bart. "No water walking for at least two days."

"It's Saturday tomorrow," says Tim. "How about you get a lift to the tower with me?"

Bart blinks. "Don't you take the Bat-Jet? Would Batman let me on it?"

"It'll be fine if you stick to the lounge area," says Tim.

Bart runs around the city three times, then the state, then returns to his dorm, a bit more tired than usual. Being sick sucks.

Tim is already gone. Bart thinks maybe he said something about class before Bart left.

Bart's phone rings, and it takes him several seconds to find it, neatly tidied away in his desk drawer. He blames Tim. "Hello?"

"Bart? It's Helen Claiborne."

"Helen!" he says, sitting up and pulling his legs closer to himself in delight. "How are you? How is Manchester? Have you seen Preston recently? Oh no, he's in Vancouver isn't he, how about Rolly?"

"Bart," says Helen, laughing. "I'm fine, we can talk about your friends later. I have some news for you."

Bart's heart beats once in his chest, very hard. "Is something wrong?"

"No! No, it's the opposite. Bart, it's Max. He's come back."

Bart drops the phone, and it takes him almost three microseconds to catch it before it hits the bed. "Max? Max has come back? How? When? Why? Is he okay?"

"To answer all of your questions, I don't know. I think he's fine, but he's been asleep practically since I found him at my front door yesterday. I thought you might know more about it than I would."

Yesterday... so when the speed force returned. It couldn't be a coincidence. "I'll be right over," he promised. He could always call Wally from Manchester.

He remembered to send Bernard a text before he left the city to let him know he'd be away all weekend, and then sent a secure message to Tim letting him know the same.

"Bart, are you all right?" asks Helen, once she's done hugging him. "You're so thin and you look like you haven't slept in a week!"

"I had the flu," he says absently. "I'm over it now. Where's Max?"

"Still sleeping," she says. "The flu?"

He nods. "The speed force disappeared and I got sick but I got better once it came back. And I think Max must have come back at the same time but I can't be sure until I talk to him and why is he still sleeping?"

"He looked exhausted," says Helen. "And he's looking worse than you, so it must be bad."

Waiting has never been Bart's strong suit, but he lets Helen feed him cookies and news of his various friends and acquaintances in Manchester.

His phone rings in the middle of an interesting story about the county fair.

It's Tim, on the secure line. "Bart? Where are you? You're not in your dorm."

"Something came up," he says. "I'm in Manchester."

Silence for what seems like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. "Max Mercury?"

"I am not even going to ask how you figured that out." He's not going to ask but he suspects Oracle is involved somehow and if Batman is tapping his phone he really does not want to know.

Tim doesn't dignify it with an answer. "Stay on your guard. And... if it's really him? I'm glad for you."

That little knot of worry, the one that made him hurry to Manchester and had eased when he found Helen safe, ties itself up again, hard and fast in his stomach. "Thanks."

Belatedly, Bart realises he should have called Wally first. He does it now, and waits while the phone rings for a small eternity before the voicemail kicks in. "Hi it's Bart I got a call from Helen Claiborne today she says Max has come back I'm there now no news I'll be careful bye," he tells the recording of Wally's voice, then hangs up.

He leaves a similar message for Jay Garrick and wonders why they even bother having cellphones.

Helen had left him to his own devices when he was on the phone, but she returns with another plate of cookies pretty soon after he hangs up.

"Did Max seem normal to you?" asks Bart, taking a cookie.

"He didn't say anything at all, other than my name," says Helen. "Then he passed out. I put him to bed and he hasn't stirred since." She pauses. "You look worried." She sounds almost wondering.

"I just hope Max is okay," says Bart, trying to paste on a smile the way Tim does.

Helen sits next to him and gives him a half-hug. "I'm sure he is."

Bart clamps down on the stream of what-ifs currently running around his head. "I just wish he'd wake up."

There is a soft, strained chuckle from the doorway. "You never ended up learning patience, then. I shouldn't be surprised, should I?"

Bart whirls. "Max?"

Max is leaning heavily against the door jam, and Helen is right - he looks half-dead. "It's me. I'm back."

Max takes a shaky step into the room, then a second, and then he and Bart are hugging. It's warm and comforting and a little bit like coming home.

"You've grown up," says Max. "Physically, at least, I'm refraining from judgement on your mental state."

Bart tries to feel indignant, but the feeling won't come. "I'm at college now," he says. "It's been four years."

"College?" says Max. "Those poor fools. How are they coping?"

"It's fine," says Bart. "I've learned about secret identities and only one person knows and he already knew because of— a high school friend of his and I didn't tell him and I never used my powers in front of him. So it's not really my fault anyway."

Max rubs his forehead. "Are you still with Carol?"

Bart blinks, then he remembers that when Max disappeared he and Carol had been almost-not-quite-dating. It feels like an eternity ago now. They've been friends after breaking up for longer than they'd known each other when they started going out. "No," he says. "We broke up when I moved to Keystone. But we're still good friends; we talk online all the time."

Max nods, although he seems a bit bemused.

"Finding out our relationship almost destroyed the world in the future kind of put a sour note into it," Bart adds thoughtfully.

"So you finished high school and got into college and now you're living on your own. Amazing."

"I'm living in the dorms," Bart corrects, ignoring the dig. Max is back, Max is back, Max is back.

"And only one of your friends knows? Will wonders never cease?"

Bart bounces on his heels and just grins at him. He's becoming more and more convinced that this really is Max, he really is back.

Wally and Jay Garrick arrive halfway through dinner. They're in full costume and look like they're prepared to find anything from total chaos to a children's birthday party.

They find the three of them sitting calmly at the dinner table.

"Max Mercury," says Wally awkwardly. "Welcome back."

"Flash," says Max.

Helen clears her throat. "Would you gentlemen like anything to drink? Have you eaten? I think there's some pasta that Bart hasn't got to yet."

Wally and Jay politely refuse the food, but they do sit down at the table.

"Bart, can I talk to you outside for a moment?" says Wally, once dinner is finished and the plates are cleared away.

Bart obediently follows him outside. "I think it's him," he says. "He's asking all the right questions; he even asked about Carol."

"Has he said anything about the Speed Force?"

Bart shakes his head. "He says he doesn't remember anything from the moment the Rival took him over."

Wally paces on the spot for a moment. "We have no way of knowing if he's telling the truth or not."

"We're not Bats," says Bart. "Just trust him. He's not in any state to fight."

Wally looks him up and down. "Neither are you, by the looks of things. What happened?"

"Flu," says Bart shortly. "Don't worry, it went away when the Speed Force came back."

Wally gets that slightly guilty expression he usually gets when he realises he and Bart don't really get along and he doesn't take enough interest in Bart's life.

Bart decides to go easy on him. "I didn't really spread it around. I wasn't in any state to entertain visitors."

He overhears Max and Helen in the kitchen once he returns to the house.

"Go easy on him," says Helen. "He missed you. It hasn't been easy with you gone."

"I'm not good at emotions," says Max. "It just comes out as sarcastic."

"Just tell him you're proud of him," she says. "It's not hard."

But I already know, thinks Bart, and smiles.

Seeing Max again is wonderful and he feels like a little wound in his heart has finally begun to heal, but it just drove home to him that he didn't need a mentor any more. At some point in the last four years the world started making sense.

He doesn't need him, but he's glad to have him back.

Bart walks into the room and wraps Max in a hug.

—

When he gets back to the dorm late on Sunday night he goes straight to bed without talking to anyone. In the morning he makes a token effort at still looking sick, but he doesn't think he's terribly convincing.

Bernard is very clearly hung over at breakfast, though, and just gives him a bleary, suspicious look.

Kon and Cassie invite themselves over to his dorm on Monday night, which is unusual enough that he doesn't complain about secret identities at all. Kon is wearing a hipster outfit that would be a lot more convincing if he weren't built like a tank. Cassie looks like a normal college girl, far removed enough from her Wonder Girl identity that Bart thinks it's unlikely she'll be recognised.

"We missed you on the weekend," says Cassie. "I was worried."

"Yeah!" says Kon. "We heard you were sick last week, you should have come to the tower to get better, we're much more interesting than your dorm room." He pokes at the mattress for emphasis.

"I wasn't in any state to move ten feet, let alone across the country," says Bart. "But thanks for the thought. I wasn't in my dorm last weekend, though, I was in Manchester."

"Definitely should have come to the Tower," says Kon.

"It's home," Bart points out. "I wanted to be there."

Kon looks at him sidelong.

"And there was Flash business," Bart adds, for honesty's sake.

"Superheroes are so territorial," Cassie laughs.

Tim shows up a little while later, uninvited. Bart mouths "creepy" at Kon and Cassie behind his back.

"How was Max?" Tim asks, a little too casually.

Kon perks up. "Max?"

"Tired," says Bart, unable to fight off his grin. "But I think he's going to be fine."

"Hey, how come Tim knows when it's Flash business?" says Kon, in mock offense.

"I didn't tell him anything, don't you know, he's trained by the world's greatest detective," Bart says.

Tim rolls his eyes.

Somebody knocks on Bart's door. "Bart, it's Bernard. Did you take any notes in class today? I think I fell asleep."

While Bart is trying to figure out if he can fit both Kon and Cassie in his closet, Tim walks to the door and opens it.

"Um," says Bernard, staring at Kon and Cassie. "Hi?"

For their part, Kon and Cassie are staring at Tim like he's grown an extra head.

Tim closes the door behind Bernard. "He already knows, anyway. This is Bernard, he went to school with me."

"You did fall asleep," says Bart, making a vain attempt to defuse the awkwardness. He digs around in his bag until he finds his notebook. "Here, make a copy of these. And then go get some rest, you don't want to get flu. It sucks."

Bernard takes the notebook awkwardly. Bart's dorm room is really not big enough for five people, and he practically has to step over Cassie to reach it.

"You take notes in class?" says Kon.

"Most of the time," says Bart absently. It's hard to pass a course entirely on reading, even if you have memorised the textbook. "Why?"

Kon just shakes his head.

"I, er, I'm just going to go now," says Bernard. "Sorry. Glad you're feeling better, Bart. Nice to meet you guys."

"It's not like I told him your names," says Tim, once Bernard is gone. "Stop staring at me like that."

"Bart's not the only one who's changed," says Kon, grinning.

"You think I've changed?" asks Bart, diverted. He's been starting to wonder if anybody else has even noticed.

"You're paying attention in school," says Kon.

"You don't come to me for advice anymore," Tim points out. Bart thinks Tim might seem a little put out by that.

"I think you grew up while we weren't looking," says Cassie.

"I guess it had to happen someday," adds Kon.

"Is that bad?" Bart asks hesitantly.

Kon ruffles his hair. "Never. Just makes you more awesome."

Bart attempts to fix his hair and mock-glares at his friends.

"Tim, on the other hand, needs to stop being such a creeper," says Kon.

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Maybe I was coming here anyway," he says.

"And yet you instantly knew what I was talking about," Kon points out.

"Well, I like having you all here," says Bart. "So Tim's allowed to be creepy this time."

END