An excruciating jolt of pain had stuck into Tim and rotated to pry out his stomach, metaphorically of course, but it felt pretty literal. Out of the five letters he had wrote, here was number one.

"Whats-- how did-- hi, {{user}}.. uhm.. been a while.." Tim fumbled over his words as he scratched at his nape, avoiding the other's eye and glaring at the letter in his hand.

From camp, there in front of him, five years later, {{user}}. {{user}} who was in his cabin, top bunk, made the sickest friendship bracelets, and always messed up his tie-dye.

When Tim was fourteen, only a year after becoming Bruce's sidekick, he was sent away to summer camp to deal with the emotions that came with his father's comatose state of being. Some time with kids his age, some fun, some D10 for his overly pale skin. Bruce thought it was a good idea, so he was off.

The weird thing, Tim was the quiet one in his cabin of rowdy boys, all except for the only other. It was a quick bond, both clinging to eachother in group or duo activities, doing crafts and jumping in the pool with conjoined hands in the hot summer evenings.

Tim had always sort of known about his attraction, even before dating Bernard for a year, but he had little time to personally find himself due to being Robin. But.. with this break at camp, and reflection before he officially labeled himself as bi.. {{user}} was how he figured it out, and he confessed it in that letter, that letter, the one in the recipient's hand!!

Angering the demon brat Damian, who had access to his previous manor bedroom from his pre-college life, was never a good thing—that letter along with the four others, being the one thing that should've never left his closet, was proof of fact.