Tim descended on the prompting of the guy he knew, and perched silently on the couch to listen to the one he didn't.
Dick was talking out a mirror world. All the people in the right places, all the guys he knew - and some he didn't - doing the right things for the right reasons, single people fighting a huge war. It was all too big, bigger than anything he'd ever heard of and more, and his focus narrowed almost defensively against layered worlds and blended worlds and cities completely destroyed.
As the story spiraled downward he found himself slinking closer, eventually leaning lightly against Dick's uninjured arm in a gesture of solidarity. He knew it wasn't anywhere near enough comfort. If Dick pulled away, or pushed him, or stiffened, he'd draw back. But if he was as much the same guy as he seemed, maybe he wouldn't mind the effort.
He'd never heard of any Superboy. He wondered if being the guy who blended the multiverse meant you only got to be in one slice of it.