DC Elseworlds 1. Chapter 1

"Mommy and daddy are going far away tonight," they murmur in sweet, friendly voices

"Mommy and daddy are going far away tonight," they murmur in sweet, friendly voices.

Timmy's mom kisses him on his forehead, and Timmy's dad dutifully checks under the bed for monsters or other unpleasant things. In the morning, the big house is empty.

Timmy is used to that, so he escapes the house's hollow shell to sit on the steps. Some might say that Timmy lives in a mansion, but he's explored every nook and cranny a thousand times. Finding a spider is a treat, and there's more of them outside. It is there--where Timmy looks up into the clouded sky and imagines his parents flying by--that his dark eyes see the flying person.

Right away, he knows something is amiss. After all, Timmy's a smart boy. He knows all about things like Physics and gravity. He also knows that people cannot take to the air without the help of machinery.

He stands up almost instinctively and says, "hey you, stop that!" even though he knows the stranger is too far away to hear a small, humble voice from the ground.

Yet the flying person _does_ stop, coming to a hover--a distinguishable speck--and then changing course. He lands in the lawn with a pretty big crash.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man," starts the stranger, looking worried as if damaging the lawn or toppling the flower-pots was a very bad thing to do. "You weren't supposed to see me. _Nobody's_ supposed to see me. I'll get in trouble!"

Timmy crosses his arms and gives the other a disapproving stare. "Then you shouldn't be flying around like that. Don't you know that people can't fly? It's a rule!"

The other boy is taller than Timmy, but not by much. He turns around, and with very blue eyes glaring back, he snaps, "maybe _you_ weren't supposed to see me. What are you doing, shouting at me like that?"

"Just so you know, I'm _good_ at seeing things." Timmy defends, making a sound and rolling his eyes to justify his case. He repeats, "and _you're_ not supposed to be doing that, so it's your own fault!"

The odd, flying boy drags his eyes heavenward and is probably already deciding that he doesn't like Timmy, the laws of physics, or being here. He'll probably leave, too. Far away. Just like everyone else. And boldly, without a plane or a helicopter. "Yeah, well, people-rules don't apply to me. I'm not really a real person."

"Yeah?" Timmy tightens the fold of his arms. "And what does that make you then? An imaginary person?"

Timmy's too old to have imaginary friends. His dad said so, once.

The other boy is looking over his shoulder, surveying the sky as if it were about to tell on him. "If it gets me out of trouble, then sure. I'll be whatever you want."

Despite himself, Timmy finds himself pausing at that. His brows frown deeply. "So...you want to stay?"

The boy gives him an indiscernible look, and then mutters, "you'll probably tell on me if I leave, right?"

"Maybe I will," Timmy considers, not really sure who he'll tattle to. The threat is there, but Timmy's smart enough to know that it doesn't truly matter. _Nobody_ believes in flying people.

The stranger looks slightly hesitant, as if he doesn't trust himself enough to call Timmy's bluff. Perhaps he's running away from something, too. Stalling. "Maybe I'll stay for a little bit, then?"

Timmy will take that. He shrugs and says, "I have some games. Mom and dad buy them for me when they go places."

A small pause, before the strange flying boy copies the shrug. "Yeah, that sounds fine. Will it be okay with your parents?"

Timmy smiles, quite pleased with himself. "Don't worry. They don't believe in flying people, so nobody will mind if you're here."

As the two go inside the very big house, Timmy thinks that his mom, at least, might mind the lawn. Maybe he'll tell the flying boy to come back again to fix it.

_That's_ a threat he might bank on. Flying boy or not, Timmy knows they won't get through half of the games in one visit.


	2. Chapter 2

"You know," a voice says out of the darkness, and the flying boy feels his heart leap into his throat

"You know," a voice says out of the darkness, and the flying boy feels his heart leap into his throat. "Instead of hiding in my yard, you can just come hang out in my house."

"Geez," gasps the flying boy. "Tim!" He didn't hear the boy leave the house, let alone sneak up on him.

And sure enough, there's that furrowed brow gazing up at him, and those hands crossing. "How long were you living in the tree?"

"I'm just..."

"You're hiding," Timmy states with that weird sense of certainty. Somehow, Timmy has it all figured out. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"...I...no. No, it's..." and for the first time that he can admit it, the flying boy feels shame. "It's not good for me to be here."

He's dangerous. They've always told him that he's dangerous. It's all lies, though some parts of the flying boy believes it. The rules, made for his own benifit. For the safety of the world. You don't want to scare or hurt innocent people, do you?

No, no the flying boy doesn't.

But somehow, when Timmy had first caught sight of the flying boy and had ordered him to obey the Laws of Physics, well...that had been voiced with the first authority of truth that the flying boy had ever heard.

And they'd come after him. They'd hunt him down. Then _real_ people would get hurt, and Timmy would be first...

His revelation is painful, and it takes a long moment to develop. Timmy clears his throat. "I can't climb trees as well as you can gravity down them. Come on, are you coming with me to the house or not? When my parents come back, we'll have a plan ready."

The flying boy stares down, not quite hearing. Finally, he shakes his head. "No, I have to go Tim. Far away."

Something sparks in the others' eyes. Shock, fear, anger?

"What are you running from?" Timmy shouts up, angry for the first time that the flying boy's ever seen. Timmy hadn't even looked like this when they had first met. Annoyed, maybe. But this is new. "My parents run from me, or to something. I don't know, but they're never around. You know this!"

It almost seems like Timmy is threatening to scream betrayal.

The terrible, awkward situation changes though, when just as suddenly Timmy says, "you _know_ you can trust me. And I can hide you. I can keep you safe."

Always that certainty.

The flying boy wants to believe it, too. But isn't growing up all about discovering just how little control you have over your world?

"I do trust you," the flying boy says, softly. "But do you honestly think it would work?"

No.

A raised brow, which looks very grown-up, despite Timmy's age. "Yes. And do you want to know why it **will** work?"

The flying boy stares down from his branch and is captivated. Timmy is so assured, even without knowing the secrets or the details of the flying boy's life. "Why?" he whispers.

Timmy rocks on his heels, and plays with his secret. Thrilled even, to finally share it. "Because I know who Batman is. And he will help us."


End file.

DC Elseworlds, Friendship