It won't go to waste; I plan to donate them. After the Teen Titans disbanded, they started a charity. Most of them are high school students who don't plan on going to college, so some decent clothes could help them find jobs in the Upper East Side.
Although high-end custom tailoring could fetch a good price on the second-hand market, Colt had no intention of selling them for money. He was simply not very strong, he wasn't as skin and bones as Joseph claimed, nor was his height of 177cm particularly unusual; these clothes could find successors. Timothy would also be happy that his gift could help those in need.
Joseph looked even angrier.
Colt rubbed his eyes and yawned, "Dad, is there anything else? I want to sleep."
Joseph glanced at the water stains remaining on the floor by the window and squeezed out a few words: "Go to sleep. I see your toothpaste is almost finished; get up early tomorrow to go shopping."
..
Timothy returned to the mansion next door.
Under the glow of American dollars, the house was being renovated extremely quickly. The bedding in the bedroom and the toiletries in the bathroom were already fully equipped; only the soft furnishings for the first-floor kitchen and living room were still missing.
Timothy, wrapped in a bathrobe as pajamas, was updating his work logs using the wrist computer equipped with his Red Robin uniform.
The sudden "quack" of a duck rang out.
Timothy submitted the log with one hand while reaching for his phone from his belt with the other.
A message from an encrypted group chat between two people.
【 139, 0, 255: You already said goodnight, so why aren't you asleep yet? 】
[185, 205, 246: (*￣￣) Going to sleep right now.]
Timothy stretched and got into bed to sleep.
The lights in the room went out. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window was the terrace, beyond the terrace was the woods. Through the gaps in the branches and leaves, one could see half the silhouette of Colt's house, including the terrace of Colt's room.
The rain was too heavy tonight; nothing could be seen. No, a white shadow was drifting quickly through the rain, Colt stared at him through the floor-to-ceiling window.
"It's three in the morning, why aren't you sleeping?" The phone didn't ring; this time, the sound came from the communication channel.
Timothy sat up and waved to him, "It's raining heavily outside."
I didn't pay for the rain; free rain won't touch me," Colt said as he walked through the floor-to-ceiling window and set down a file, "You left this in the study.
He seemed to have truly just come to deliver a file; after setting it down, he turned to leave.
Timothy grabbed Colt's sleeve: "You forgot to say goodnight to me."
I did!
Colt took a deep breath, slowly turned around, looked at Timothy.
Timothy tapped his cheek with his finger.
Colt held his breath, leaned down, kissed Timothy's cheek: "Goodnight, Tim, sweet dreams."
Timothy still didn't let go of Colt: "This house used to be a haunted house; I'm a little scared to sleep alone."
Red Robin is afraid of ghosts? Even a ghost wouldn't believe that!
Colt didn't believe it either, but he still stood by the bedside: "You sleep, I'll protect you. If you start sleeping now, you can still get four hours of sleep."
His ability to find any opportunity to get people to sleep was truly beyond words.
Timothy shifted, making room for someone else. "Come up. The central air conditioning hasn't been calibrated yet, it's too cold in the room."
Colt: You know the temperature is constant inside the Ghost field, right?
Timothy: Are you coming?
Colt climbed onto the bed, obediently pulling the quilt up to his chin and placing his hands on his stomach. He closed his eyes, but then suddenly opened them again. Colt sat up and began inspecting the pillow carefully, even turning the pillowcase inside out to look inside, as well as the quilt and every corner of the bed.
"What are you looking for?" Timothy asked.
The Safe House hasn't been officially put into use yet, so there certainly wouldn't be anything hidden here that couldn't be seen.
"No Ghost signature, but it can be touched." Colt patted the pillow into place, smoothed out the messy quilt, lay back down.
Timothy nodded. "You've upgraded?"
The concept of "mine" is very broad. To test Colt's abilities, Timothy once drafted an authorization contract, granting Colt the right to use all the items under his own name, without telling Colt himself. Legally, such an authorization contract would be invalid, but as Colt stepped on the floor of his new Safe House, shaking his blanket, it proved that the rules had recognized this authorization. Perhaps, what limits Colt is not the rules, but his own recognition.
"I don't know, maybe." Colt was uncertain.
Reality is not a game; there are no level-up notifications or flashy upgrade effects. You only realize your abilities have quietly leveled up once you find yourself capable of doing things you couldn't do before.
"Go to sleep." Timothy reached out to take off Colt's hearing aids and tucked them under his pillow.
Colt stirred restlessly.
Timothy's hand moved over and held his hand.
Colt squeezed back gently, then remained still.
In a quiet world, accompanied by another's breathing, counting another's heartbeat, feeling another's body temperature, it was like an astronaut tethered by a safety rope; even when only darkness remained ahead, they knew they would not drift away.
Colt had a chaotic dream.
He felt as if he had become a reader, watching the stories of superheroes from a god's eye view—comics, animations, movies, the works—some of whose plots were like a pile of dog shit.
Du Zhe, why are you tearing up the book?
Shitty author, you don't understand Batman at all! I'm going to burn down the editorial office!
..
Colt sat up abruptly.
Du Zhe, his name was Du Zhe, he had almost forgotten his own name!
He remembered!
He is just a reader! He wants to change this world! He wants to make heroes happy! But he never expected the malice of this world to be so powerful! His plan was shattered before it even began!
He died, forgotten by the world! No, he isn't dead! He used himself as an anchor to hold two worlds together; being forgotten was his own choice!
Why choose to be forgotten?
Colt held his head, trying to squeeze out more memories.
Because he didn't want anyone to be sad because of his departure.. because he still wanted to go home.. that Joker countdown was the countdown to going home! He still had a chance to go home, which was why he was frantically absorbing knowledge, all just to bring this advanced technology back home!
..
Colt," Timothy sat up, putting an arm around Colt's shoulder, "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?
Colt slowly turned his head, staring blankly into Timothy's eyes.
Red Robin, Timothy Drake, became a target he deliberately sought out because of their similar ages. Their acquaintance was the result of his intentionality, whether he was six years old or eighteen.
Timothy propped himself up, slowly leaning in to kiss his cheek, "Good morning, Colt."
Colt's eyes widened; he fumbled for his hearing aid from under the pillow and practically scrambled away in a frantic escape.
What is he doing?
What has he done?
Colt's mind was a complete mess.
Even though he had no memories, his subconscious still remembered that leaving and forgetting were his choices. He had clearly prepared to go home, so why did he have to get close to Timothy in this final year!
Holding hands! Hugging! Kissing! Sleeping together! It had long since crossed the boundaries of friendship!
What was Timothy thinking?
Why did Timothy let the relationship develop into something so ambiguous!
He is Red Robin! The rational Red Robin! The Red Robin who is determined to become the greatest detective! Wait, Red Robin doesn't seem that straight in the comics.. Has he come out with someone? Who is that person?
I can't remember.. never mind, it doesn't matter. Who wouldn't love Red Robin? Even he would turn gay just to see his own reflection in those ice-blue eyes!
Colt rushed back to his own house and froze when he saw Joseph standing on the terrace.
Joseph scanned him with a serious gaze, looking at his messy hair, his pajamas buttoned all the way to his neck, his bare feet beneath his pajama pants.
Colt put on his hearing aid with a pale face, his toes curling in embarrassment.
Joseph didn't ask him where he had gone, only saying, "Don't stay out all night from now on."
Colt nodded.
Yes, he also has to go home! He has been cramming knowledge into his brain like a madman all these years just so he could bring it back home! Super Battery, Quantum Teleportation Device, holographic virtual technology, miniature nuclear fusion reactors, Iron Man armor, extra-corporeal cultivation.. With these technologies, his hometown will be able to fly!
He came here to learn technology, not to fall in love! A romance destined to have no result is being irresponsible to himself, also irresponsible to Timothy!
He is just a reader, how can he interfere with the protagonist's fate?!
Timothy quickly discovered that as soon as Joseph returned, his good days were over.
Red Robin had tried to knock on the window of Colt's room three times, three times he had received a warning from the Intelligent Protection System.
Joseph did not change the permissions Colt had granted Timothy; he simply added a small program to the Intelligent Protection System that would trigger an alarm whenever Red Robin approached. Timothy wanted to visit using his daytime identity, but Joseph had suddenly begun making contact with other companies, such as Stark, Lex Corp, Oscorp.
***Faced with such an overt threat, Timothy could only honestly keep his distance from Oak Tree Manor.
Joseph's interference wasn't the biggest problem; what troubled Timothy most was
Colt began avoiding him. The good morning and goodnight kisses, which had been so hard-won through two months of gradual progress, were gone. Without Joseph at school, Colt also refused his hand-holding and hugs because he didn't want him to become an urban legend on campus.
All of those adorable physical contacts were gone!
Colt no longer urged him to sleep every night, nor did he send him various sci-fi videos and fantasy movies in an attempt to make him dream of space and magic.. just as if they were merely ordinary friends!
Timothy felt wronged.
He did nothing that night; they had clearly only held hands, they weren't even embracing when they woke up. So the problem still lay with Colt—was it nightmares? Was it recovering his memories? Or was it discovering his own feelings and his heart resisting them?
Colt clearly wanted to handle it himself, so Timothy could only wait.
The detective had plenty of patience.
Timothy seemed not to have noticed Colt's retreat, continuing to say good morning and good night to Colt in the encrypted group chat as usual. He asked about today's products from the Dream Treasure Chest and pressed for an update on the progress of the photo re-takes. Then, he shared updates, complaining about Damian, venting about the troublesome brothers at home, whining about Alfred restricting his coffee consumption..
Analyzing and researching the Dream Treasure Chest is serious business; one cannot be careless when archiving the chest's daily yields.
Timothy is in the photo, so it's reasonable for him to ask for it.
It is normal for friends to say good morning or good night to each other, it is also normal to share updates.
..