Colt did not move.
Whether it was Timothy or Red Robin, neither would consider their partner's status when falling in love. In any case, whether it was wealth, strength, or wisdom, nothing could compare to Red Robin himself.
Perhaps Timothy simply likes people who are sunny, enthusiastic, a bit foolish.
Sunshine. Colt felt that he had been quite sunny before the age of nine, but now only darkness remained; Ghost sounded as if he had nothing to do with sunshine.
Enthusiastic—Colt was very enthusiastic before he was nine, but now he was nothing but indifferent. Even if he heard an explosion, as long as it wasn't his home being blown up, he wouldn't even bother to glance at it.
Low intelligence? Before he was nine, Colt was as stupid as if he had no intelligence at all, but now he is a Quantum Ghost capable of rapidly digesting knowledge packages. In Tony's mouth, his brain is already the size of a walnut; he can hardly be considered to have low intelligence.
A person can't go back to being nine years old, Timothy isn't a masochist; now, he can only follow the path of lust at first sight that grows into love over time.
Colt didn't think about letting go for even a single second; his mind was entirely occupied with how to break up that pair in the hospital room.
Quack
The notification sound from the encrypted group chat woke Colt from his Plan ABCD..
[185, 205, 246: Bow your head.]
Colt lowered his head.
Timothy had come downstairs at some unknown point and was sitting in his wheelchair in the courtyard, enduring the snow, wearing only a hoodie and a wool coat.
The temperature today is -3 degrees, the wheelchair isn't insulated!
Colt rushed down, pulled up Timothy's hoodie, then pulled the blanket covering his legs up to his neck, tying it behind his neck to wrap him up completely.
"Someone will see us." Timothy said this, but the smile on his face showed no sign of being afraid of being seen.
In such cold weather, there was no one in the courtyard at all, a tree happened to be positioned perfectly to block the surveillance camera; no one would see. Colt remained silent, pulling both himself and the wheelchair into his Ghost field without a change in expression.
"The car is still in the underground parking garage," Timothy said again.
"You're driving in this weather with a cast on your leg?" Colt's expression looked like he wanted to hit someone.
"You have to trust Red Robin's driving skills." Timothy said with a smug expression, looking to be in a very good mood.
"Do the drivers who fight you for lanes also have Red Robin's driving skills?" Colt was in a bad mood, but he still had the Quantum Terminal search for Timothy's location while pushing the wheelchair toward the underground parking lot.
Timothy turned his head to look at the many bags Colt was dragging behind him and changed the subject: "Did you come directly from New York?"
Colt stared at the corners of Timothy's mouth that had curled upward. Thinking that Timothy's happiness might be related to that blond, he felt a surge of jealousy. Fortunately, one couldn't discern emotions from a voice, otherwise he would have been able to squeeze lemon juice from his words: "Right, whoever you're looking for, that's who I'm looking for."
"So, you heard everything?" Timothy's smile faded.
"Starting with you caring about his life." Colt muttered, head down as he accelerated.
“What do you think of my suggestion?” Timothy's hand tightened under the blanket.
What suggestion?
Colt had the Quantum Terminal search for the keywords and located Timothy's car. He used his Spiritual Power to directly cover it, pulling the car into a Ghost field and letting it trail behind him like a kite along with the various bags of supplies.
Timothy was busy using his phone to handle the surveillance from the underground parking lot. Fortunately, his car was parked in the Wayne garage, which was not open to the public, so no one saw the vehicle vanish into thin air.
Colt took an unconventional route, dragging the vehicle and supplies and pushing the wheelchair through walls and into the sky, but he suddenly paused mid-air as he looked at the "Suggestions" retrieved by the Quantum Terminal.
Timothy shook his phone. "The hospital surveillance has been handled."
Colt shook his head; he wasn't losing his composure because of the surveillance footage.
"You're suggesting Bernard go to Munich University in Germany?" Colt's voice rang out simultaneously in the communication channel and the encrypted mobile group, making his surprise evident.
He is very smart and has the desire to continue his studies, but he cannot afford the high tuition fees. This near-accident was also because he was trying to earn tuition money," Timothy said righteously. "I am just recommending a school to him that is sufficiently safe and sufficiently excellent.
Colt was even more worried: "Can he get in?"
"A professor from Munich University will provide him with a recommendation letter, so he doesn't need to worry about whether he can get in. The Wayne Scholarship will also cover all his expenses, whether for his undergraduate, master's, or doctoral studies; he only needs to worry about whether he can graduate." Timothy's expression suggested he wanted to send the blond away as far as possible, preferably so that he would never return to Gotham for the rest of his life.
Universities in Germany have always been easy to enter but difficult to graduate from. With an integrated undergraduate and graduate program, Bernard wouldn't be able to return to Gotham for at least ten years, which was not the attitude to show his sweetheart.
Colt's heart beat faster and faster, nearly leaping into his throat; he felt as if he had misunderstood something.
..
The two returned to Oak Tree Manor in silence.
Birdie came to meet them from a distance, carrying a long, thick insect in its beak, leaving several muddy paw prints on Timothy's pristine white blanket. The bird dropped the insect, nudged it toward Colt with its beak, chirped while looking up.
Timothy translated the bird language: "He is showing you his survival skills and feeding you his favorite protein."
Colt could understand; he just wanted to scream, "Get it away!"
Timothy knew for the first time that Colt could actually set an AI voice to roar with anger; he had always thought Colt's voice was eternally calm.
Sigh, humans are no match for birds.
Seeing that Colt wouldn't eat the insects, Birdie swallowed them himself. The insect was as thick as a finger and nearly the size of a palm, yet the bird could actually pin it down with its claws, peck it into two pieces, then swallow it in a few gulps with its neck stretched out.
Colt put down the car, put down Timothy, put down the large bags he was dragging behind him. He grabbed Birdie and rambled for half an hour about how her ability to train her survival skills deserved praise, but warned that Gotham's insects were not edible, especially those insects that looked abnormal in color; eating too many would cause mutation!
"The chance of mutation is only one in a thousand," Timothy reported from the side.
Colt grabbed a handful of nuts from Birdie's snack bag and tossed them to Timothy: "Here, replenish some trace elements to help with bone cell metabolism and protein synthesis."
Timothy gave Birdie a look that said, "Good luck to you."
The bird was unhappy and flew to the large oak tree outside the courtyard, showing off claws so healthy they could take on any bird in the world.
Colt's eyes were full of "my child's rebellion has broken my heart."
Timothy stuffed the peeled sunflower seeds into Colt's mouth. "Don't worry, Damian gave him foraging training. He knows what is edible and what isn't."
Colt chewed on the sunflower seeds and suddenly remembered something. "Is Red Robin still doing toxin resistance training?"
He does." Timothy looked at Birdie, who used to find even flapping its wings tiring back in September, but could now fight its way through a flock of birds with ease, murmured, "That mountain cricket Red Robin just caught is poisonous; even a chicken wouldn't dare eat it.
Damian might have special pet-feeding skills.
Colt fell into silence.
“Damian might harm people, but he certainly won't harm animals.” Timothy paused. “The reason you didn't clip the Robin Bird's wings or keep him in a cage was because you hoped that one day he could survive independently in the wild. That is a good thing for a bird.”
He looks just like a Gotham bird now," Colt said, lowering his head in disappointment. "He can live on his own; he doesn't need me anymore.
I need you," Timothy said softly, wrapping his arms around Colt's shoulders. "I need you, Colt.
Colt looked at him.
Timothy was calm at first, but Colt stared for too long, he no longer simply used his eyes as a mirror like before. The scrutiny in Colt's gaze was far too obvious, making him want to stand at attention.
Colt slowly withdrew his gaze. "You can't stand for long, sit back down."
Timothy sat back in the wheelchair obediently.
Colt pushed the wheelchair back into the room and began organizing the supplies. They were all daily necessities, mostly food: milk, eggs, fish, meat, soy products, shrimp, nuts, vegetables, fruit.. almost all of them were foods that could promote bone healing.
Timothy sat in his wheelchair, moving back and forth to put things into the refrigerator and cabinets, setting aside what would be needed for lunch as Colt instructed.
"Is this what you went to New York for?" Timothy asked.
"Edwin has been buying takeout for Tony for over ten years, these are all organic foods that he personally selected. I paid for them," Colt explained.
"Wayne has its own specialized organic farm that makes deliveries every morning. I had them send a portion here as well," Timothy said. By "here," he naturally meant Little Reed's house.
Colt did not refuse.
While Colt was cooking, Timothy rotated his wheelchair to hand him bowls and seasonings; although he didn't make low-level mistakes like mistaking salt for sugar, he was truly getting in the way.
Colt did not rush Timothy; instead, he gave him a handful of vegetables to wash.
The bone soup bubbled in the pot. Colt turned it down to a low simmer and began chopping vegetables for the salad.
Timothy stole a slice of cucumber.
Colt bit into the remaining small half of the cucumber and began slicing the red cabbage that Edwin strongly recommended, along with the sweet baby cabbage he liked, plus a few slices of apple.
..
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Author's Note: There will be extra updates tonight~~ Please add to your collection and pre-order~
Chapter 49
Lunch was sumptuous and nutritious; the only drawback was the lack of coffee, leaving only milk.
Timothy held his milk, glancing longingly at the coffee machine, decided to find something to keep him busy to aid his digestion after the meal.
I've never asked, did you return to Earth from the Bifrost?
"You saw the mecha wreckage?" Colt sipped his milk contentedly. He still wanted to grow taller, so he had a very high acceptance of milk.
"So you left Asgard, not by using the Bifrost normally, but by jumping off the bridge yourself. Aren't you afraid of being thrown to the edge of the universe by spatial turbulence?" Timothy slammed the milk glass onto the table.
The cup wasn't broken, the milk didn't spill.
Colt looked up, a ring of milk still on his mouth, looked at Timothy innocently. "The Ghost field is related to space; I try my best to anchor to Earth so I won't be flung too far away."
"So, how many light-years away did you fall?" Timothy asked.
Near Centaurus.
How many times did you jump?
Five times.
How long did it take?
Five hours in total.
Timothy remained silent for a long while before sighing, "You wasted five Power Reactors and five hours, traveling all the way back to Earth from 4.2 light-years away, only to turn the meticulously crafted Knowledge Explorer mech into a pile of scrap metal."
"It wasn't that much effort. The real Knowledge Explorer is still sitting in your garage, it's much better than this broken one." Colt finished the milk, wiped his lips, tapped Timothy's milk cup with a spoon.
Timothy picked it up and drained it in one gulp. "Why?"
"You know why." Colt carried the washed dishes to the kitchen.
Timothy followed behind Colt, opened the dishwasher, started helping to tidy up the tableware.
"I think there has been a misunderstanding between us," Timothy said.