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He had to hold his breath while his head was being dragged across the pavement creating this almost ocean of concrete behind it. Jon struggled against Ultraman’s grasp while he drilled words of mockery into his head.
“You’re still holding back. You’re weak. If you wish to defeat me, you’ll have to kill me. I won’t let you rest so swallow your compassion and go on… kill me!”
Ultraman raised his hand down and sent Jon flailing into the air, beams of unbridled heat then hit his chest - making it hard to breathe. Ultraman was a maniac, he was grieving and at this point, projecting onto Jon. The things he said only ever made sense to him and problems only existed in his head.
But he was wrong, compassion didn’t make him weak. Compassion made him who he was and if Ultraman didn’t have that then this battle would not last.
“You’re wrong! Compassion is not a weakness.”
“Am I wrong? And what are you going to do about it?”
Jon’s been holding in so much anger recently, as of recently, he’s had a bit of a temper that perhaps was just in the company of being a teenager, that or being tortured for some years - either one worked but, right now it wasn’t useless. He’d use it to fight - to fight for what he believes in and not let this idiot get the best of him.
He felt that anger surge through him. For a moment, he couldn’t see because when he punched Ultraman it seemed like a mass of discolored electricity bursted out of him. It sent Ultraman falling out of their air like an angel stripped of its wings and when he hit the ground, he saw the earth cry out. They’d made a mess of the battlefield, but it wasn’t like anyone else was around.
“There’s nothing weaker than only caring about yourself. All that power… and not an ounce of strength,” Jon said standing over him.
Speaking of strength, Jon’s was fading. He wanted to fly but he felt his energy bleed out of him, realizing he had expended himself when he hit the ground.
“That… is the hardest I’ve ever been hit, and I’ve pissed off a lot of powerful people,” Ultraman coughed. “I don’t know what power that was, but it must have taken a lot out of you.”
Ultraman slowly crawled to Jon and put his hands under and above Jon’s head. Jon squirmed but all efforts went unnoticed.
“Now listen up because you won’t be getting another chance to learn.”
Jon felt himself begin to be choked.
“I’m going to take you back and I’m going to make you suffer. I’ll make your home suffer; then your world suffers but first I’ll start with those you care about. I’ll start with Lois Lane. Your Lois Lane.”
An eerily familiar voice chimed in, “No, you won’t.”
Jon’s eyes were clamped shut so all he heard was a snap so profound it made the air around them shake. When Jon felt the hands around his head go limp and Ultraman fall lifelessly beside him... he had known what had happened.
“You… you killed him. You- Dad?”
“Dad…? Oh, great Rao,” Clark said, a tear falling from his eyes. “You have your mother’s eyes.”
--
Lights. Tiled ceiling. Soft sheets against his bare skin. There’s a pounding in his head like something’s itching to get out.
Jon looks around the room, it seems like a medbay and there’s a stranger to his right, a civilian in a lab coat, maybe a doctor.
He turns to Jon revealing that he is no doctor, a villain, a notorious evildoer who’s amazingly the third face he’s seen on this earth and that must be some kind of record.
“Luthor!” Jon jumps off the bed.
“Yes?” he answers.
“Stay away from me!”
“I… take it that we’re not close in your world. That’s a shame. You still have nothing to fear from me and besides, you shouldn’t be jumping around like that - your chart says that you’re disoriented from having overloaded.”
“Overloaded?”
“It seems that your body can work as this almost solar battery and unleash energy in ways our Superman can’t. You could very well be stronger than our Superman- eh, I’m sorry, I’m rambling. What’s your name?”
“My name is Jon,” he says.
“Jon? Like Clark’s father?”
“You know my grandfather?”
“Yes, he’s a good friend and a great man. Jon… the Clark Kent of our world has gone through great tragedy. He’s trying his best but-“
“You’re awake!” Clark says from outside the medbay door.
“I am…” Jon takes a small step back.
“He’s going to be just fine. Clark… this is Jon,” Luthor chimes in.
Clark leans forward and hands Superboy his shirt. “Jon? If we had a boy, then we would have named him that…” he smiled weakly.
Jon cut through the awkwardness in the room. “You killed Ultraman.”
“I did but I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t wish death on anyone,” Clark explained.
Jon did not accept that. He may not have seen it happen, but he trusts his intuition. This man may have looked like his father, but he lacked his warmth and every time he raised his hand, his body told him to run away.
Jon narrowed his eyes.
“Why was Ultraman here in the first place?” Luthor asked.
“He’s been killing Kal-Els across the multiverse… he’s out for some sick vengeance. He’s not easy to understand… he was slowly losing himself.”
“Perhaps he was thwarted by Supermen times before and thought he should be the one to act first instead?” Luthor deciphered.
Clark had this distant look in his eyes. “And you came here to…?”
“To save you, actually.”
“Oh, thank you-“
A buzzing noise ran through The Hall of Justice and stole Clark’s undivided attention. “Alarm?” he says, charging out of the room to see a zipping speedster; Barry Allen. Jon followed and as things had been going for Barry in his past few days, he was once again lost.
“Flash! What’s the emergency?”
Barry’s attention quickly left him. “Um, hello teenager in an extremely familiar costume who bears an uncanny resemblance to the Superman he’s standing next to. Is this going to have an explanation?” Barry points to Jon.
“I have a name,” Jon clicks his tongue.
Wonder Woman even joined them at this point and Jon’s eyes shot open. “I’ll explain later. What are we dealing with?”
Barry sighs. “Attacks on Barracks in Star City and Gotham. I suggest we take Star City since our Gotham team has already followed suit - Damian is already on the scene.”
Damian?
Damian was with these guys. They’re murderers. They’re compulsive and traumatized dictators who flipped their world upside down. Their world has the same foundation as his, but it’s been shaken to its core. Damian must have a good reason; this was not like him - he knows better. He’s Damian Wayne.
The boy he loves.
On Earth Prime, Jon’s been dating Damian for years and things have been amazing, once he lets you get to know him then you find that Damian Wayne can be one of the softest, most caring, and most feeling individuals you’ve ever met. Well, Jon was somewhat biased by being in love with him and all but still, regardless of that he knew what type of person Damian was and this didn’t make any sense.
He has to find him and get answers.
Before he could finish his string of thoughts, Clark was up and flying off to Star City. “Wait, you’re leaving already. Can’t I help?”
Clark groans. “Agh… no, Jon. You should stay here. Stay safe ,” the man wearing his father’s face flew off with Wonder Woman.
Jon couldn’t stay here. He came here thinking he had to save his father from an alternative version of himself, turns out he has to save his father from himself.
Jon wasn’t the best detective, but he knew that he and his mother must not be… be alive in this world. The most he could do was be a thorn in his father's side and give him a headache for him to have some time to put together a plan to stop his father’s reign of terror on Earth. Perhaps, this would be a longer stay than he thought.
He confronted the Flash and thankfully, they didn't have an altercation. Flash was reasonable enough to have a civil conversation and let things go. He also found Hawkgirl and ripped the wings off her back then found Wonder Woman and ran circles around her because a fight with her would simply take too long.
He eventually disarmed her and left her stranded somewhere close to the sun. He took the lasso of truth with him. He’d need it for his mission, if he had to restrain anyone then let it be with the lasso of truth that was forged by the gods with the purist of gold that made it intangible to break.
He didn’t know how long this would take him; he started finding great annoyance at being on different earths. He… doesn’t have the best relationship with traveling between worlds.
He just wants to see his family, right now, the people he cares about, and it wasn’t his Damian, but he still found comfort in seeing him. He tracked him via heartbeat and found him perched up on a gargoyle in Gotham.
“Who the hell are you?” the look-alike spat.
Well, weirdly enough, his hair was quite long and silky. Damian always complained when his hair got too long and the suit that he dawned was far from a Robin’s.
“I’m Jonathan Kent.”
“Kent?”
Jon chuckled softly to himself. It is always nice to see him.
“With the lasso in my hand you know I am telling the truth. I am Kal-El’s son of a different earth than this one. I’ve come to save your Superman from Ultraman.”
“What does any of that have to do with me?” Damian grew defensive.
“I know you. I’ve known you my entire life. We are… ngh, close… in my world,” the lasso’s luminescence became prominent.
Jon continued to explain himself.
“I know Bruce has these feelings against you, but I always want to hear your side before anyone else because I trust you. I believe in you.”
“I don’t know who you are or who you might think you are, but things are different here. I wouldn’t waste time on anyone else when there’s a destiny in front of me… I am a natural-born winner.”
Jon sighed. “I don’t know what happened to make you this way. I don’t know if it was Bruce, Dick, Alfred, or myself but I know you’re better than this, Damian.”
Damian gasped.
“I know you’ll do what you know is right. I believe I can trust you with this,” he then hands Damian the lasso of truth.
“Do you truly want to kill your father?”
“I- N-no!” Damian was partly upset at being tricked but more upset with himself for getting that answer pulled out of him.
“As I thought. Keep that safe as I will you. I will be back, Damian-“ Jon began to fly away.
“Wait!” Damian shouted. “What are we…?”
“We’re… friends.”
“I’m supposed to believe you wouldn’t lie to me?”
“Of course,” Jon lied.
A look of concern then a feeling of awkwardness befell them before Jon told Damian his goodbyes and flew away. Damian immediately was skeptical; he knew he had to be strong and pull through this… bump in the road.
Was he trying to get in his head? To get the advantage against him? There’s no way he’d give some doe-eyed alien boy the time of day in any universe for that matter. Did the others trust him? Was he a double agent? He wasn’t weak like his father, and he would put a stop to anyone who got in his way, even lost puppy Kryptonians with a savior complex.
--
Once again inside the main computer room of the Hall of Justice, Superman leaves Viktor and Damian alone to their own devices; devices being Viktor to the main computer and Damian to Viktor himself. Superman had just left them on account of his own annoyance that Damian didn’t trust Jon one bit.
“You’re not going to leave this alone, are you?” Cyborg grits his teeth.
“Absolutely not. Kal-El won’t listen, he’s letting his heart guide him, a heart filled with grief. He knows better than anyone that if Jon joins the other side, then they’ll have one of the most powerful weapons in the world.”
“Your heads got too big,” Cyborg tries to walk past Damian, but he stops him.
“And you lost half of yours,” Damian snaps back. “Though I need you to tell me where I can get my hands on some kryptonite,” Damian said softly.
“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I’m no fool, Cyborg. I know you keep kryptonite or… you know where some is?”
“…” He sighed and took a step back; he then summoned a boomtube to Damian without explaining to him where it led but he knew if he wanted to keep the rest of his head then it better take him to where he could find some kryptonite.
-
“Citizens of earth. I am very pleased to announce that the terrorists; Bruce Wayne and Harleen Quinzel, have been captured and are awaiting execution for their many crimes against us.”
The world heard Superman’s emotionless voice air through their screens. The moment he saw Bruce and Harley tied up in front of the Hall of Justice he flew up to the sun to collect as much solar energy as he could.
“If Jon comes-“
“He won’t,” Clark says matter-of-factly.
“If he does then I’ve analyzed Luthor’s scans and figured out the earth he’s from to develop a way to send him back. Then you won’t have to hurt him,” Cyborg explains.
“He won’t come.”
The half-man, half-machine gives Superman and Wonder Woman a glare.
“It won’t come to that,” she assured him before leaving together.
“Where’s Damian?” the boy scout questioned.
“I’m here. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
Neither did Jon. Clark might have shown that soft side in him that resembled humanity, but it didn't even last twenty-four hours before he started public executions. He was out of his mind, along with the rest of the world. There were people in the building, some buildings not so much because everyone slowly left the city to hide from these psychos. Psychos who believe themselves to be their gods who can dictate the world as they see fit.
Jon flew in from the sun and flew in so fast, that the dirt on the ground jumped up instead of horizontally. With broken stones at his feet, he glared at Superman through the haze and made out the corners of his mouth curving in delight.
“Color me shocked. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Jon grimaced. He ignored the man entirely and let his eyes search for Damian beside the hostages.
“Don’t be a coward, Damian. Fight for what you think is right! You know in your heart this shouldn’t happen,” Jon scolded him.
“And what about you? Are you jumping around like a dog trying to get Daddy’s approval? What happened to shame?”
“More people should know how to put up a fight,” Jon spat.
“Is that what you came here to do?” Superman laughed to himself. “You?”
“If you raise your hand to me then you better be ready to kill me. I won’t go easy on you just for wearing my unborn son’s face. You’re nowhere near the man I would have raised him to be.”
Jon clenched his fists. He could practically taste the hypocrisy in his mouth. He let his feet fly off the ground and puffed his chest to make his voice more pronounced.
“Superman. Doesn’t. Kill. You never raise your hand before you lower it - you taught me that!”
“Then what is it you think you’re going to do?”
“Violence would be the last option but if you forced my hand… I’d do what any hero should; I’d just make sure you never hurt anyone ever again, you hypocrite.”
“I’m a hypocrite? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have the people you care about be taken from you? No?! Do you have any idea what it is like to have this power that makes their lives fill your senses and feel them as they shrivel up and blow away?! To hear all that noise turn to silence?!”
There was silence between the both of them before Superman’s eyes darted to Damian and then back to Jon.
“No?” his voice grumbled. “Let’s see, shall we? Let’s let the world see.”
Superman’s hands moved like bullets. He snatched Damian by the arm like a dog and pointed to him, “What about him? What if I hurt him?”
Jon forced himself to breathe through his teeth. He almost lunged forward without thinking first - if he clenched his fists hard to satiate his anger then he might just snap his fingers off. Superman wasn’t an idiot - he could see the frustration on his face. He could see Jon's pupils dilate when Damian was brought up.
“There it is. There it is,” he mocked. “If I killed him-“
“What are you doing, you idiot?! Get your hands off of me!” Damian clawed at his grasp.
“You’re not going to do anything. I wouldn’t let you.”
Superman couldn’t hold back his laughter, not like he wanted to anyway. What the joke this was; Super-disappointment wants to bat with big guys but hasn’t even graduated from Little League. Without hesitation, he snapped Damian’s wrist… the scream bellowed through his throat but the moment it left his vocal cords and was able to hit Jon’s ears, Jon threw himself at Superman and sent them both hurtling into an abandoned building. Grabbing him by the collar, he dragged Superman across the construction.
Meanwhile, Damian coached himself through the pain until he’d lost sensation in his wrist. He threw a birdarang at the cameras, “Dammit,” he groaned. Damian then used his birdarang to cut through Bruce Wayne’s ropes to free him. The people around him started to become hysterical as the buildings surrounding them began to fall.
“I’d say that maybe both me and Bruce are losing a son to this conflict, but you’ll always be half the man I am,” Superman announced, grabbing Jon by the neck and tossing him into the clouds only to meet him there and drive his body back down to the earth, passing through the stories of buildings in the process.
“How dare you touch him?!”
“I asked for a fight. Not a tantrum.”
The air was thin, all that thrashing around left more dust than anything. Jon choked and felt a familiar dizziness come back to him.
“Are you going to continue fighting or is this world finished with its disappointments?”
Jon coughed, “Ask yourself that,” a weak giggle fell from his throat only seconds before Superman started smashing his head into the ground. To be fair, he was low for that one, but it still felt good to get the last laugh - it’s compensation for getting your head bashed in.
Superman was slinging incoherent insults into the air while working out some aggression by battering Jon into the floor. Jon lost the hearing in his ears and saw blood fill his eyes.
“If I had a son, I’d never- If I- I… I’d never… ugh, you came to save me, huh?” Clark fell backward in anguish. His knuckles were bruised and bloody, he stepped back into the debris and left Jon grappling with his consciousness until it finally slipped away from him.
--
When Jon woke up, it was incredibly quiet. He used his hearing to check if he was safe first and when he only heard the sound of one heartbeat beside him - he knew he wasn’t thrown into some sort of prison.
There was a warm towel on his forehead, the room around him was dimly lit, worn down, and falling apart. He was sprawled out on a broken-down couch in some sort of abandoned building. At the foot of the sofa, he saw Damian trying to maintain a fire for warmth. He left Jon on the sofa so he could rest.
Jon sat up from the cushions and inspected him once more. His hand was bandaged - seemingly he had made a makeshift splint for himself with what he could find.
“You’re awake.”
“Where are we?”
“A hideout.”
“… you have a hideout?”
“No. I have multiple. I made this one when you got your ass kicked.”
“Why? You suddenly found you had a bleeding heart?” Jon said with sass.
“Maybe, I should have left you to die.”
“Tt.” Jon clicked his tongue.
“What was that?”
“The sound you make when you know someone’s right.”
“I do not make that sound.”
“I could have sworn that was universal-“
“Enough,” Damian interrupted him, annoyed because not only did his hand lose all its sense but he also lost his sense of humor. “For some reason, Super-psycho didn’t kill you and I’ll take this opportunity to get some answers.”
“Is this an interview? If I would have known, I would have brought my notebook-“
“Why are you here? Why bother me? Why try to protect me? Trick me?”
“Trick you?” Jon furrowed his brows.
“Answer me!” Damian demanded.
“… you… you don’t scare me, Damian,” he said softly.
Rao, even smelled like his Damian. He sounded just like him but with a bad attitude, well, more than usual. The way he shows his teeth and stands his ground reminds him so much of Damian. He missed Damian so much.
Damian’s eyes widened under his Nightwing mask. He leaned back, breathing his confusion.
“I did tell you the truth. I didn’t trick you. I am here to save my father from Ultraman but… somewhere down the road, I guess I strayed from my path,” Jon stands up as Damian jolts.
“That means I think I should leave.”
“Leave?”
“I don’t want to get too attached to this world,” Jon lowered his head, putting one foot out the window and saying his last goodbyes, “You're still resourceful- agh!” Jon yelled out in pain.
A green sheen of kryptonite felt as though it had trapped him in its light. He felt his strength quickly flee him and looked up at Damian, not with fear but with disappointment.
“How's this for resourceful, huh?”
Jon choked on his words. “Damian, what are you doing?”
“Following through like some of us are too weak to do.”
“You’re not going to hurt me, Damian.”
The whiplash you get from having senses keener than the entire animal kingdom to the underdeveloped senses of the average person made Jon want to topple over onto the floor. The Kryptonian couldn’t ever know what this Damian was thinking, that’s why he brought the lasso in the first place. He just struggled to even comprehend the concept of any Damian Wayne - regardless of the horrors they might have faced - would ever, ever want to hurt him. He couldn’t truly be evil no matter what anyone else said, not to his core, not Damian Wayne. In exchange, if Damian did mean to cause him harm, then he’d much rather he died than have to hurt him.
“You don’t know me. We’re not friends here and I don’t believe I’d ever subject myself to your companionship. So, tell me? What are your true intentions with Superman?”
“I told you!”
“You lied to me!” Damian came in closer, and Jon fell over in pain.
“I only lied about one thing. We’re not friends.”
“What are we then?” Damian asked.
“...”
Should he tell another lie? No, that’d never work.
“... We’re… in love. We’re in love with each other.”
You could hear a tree fall in the nearby forest after Jon said that. The vigilante took the hunk of kryptonite and threw it across the room. He was speechless, he didn’t know what to say but: “You’re lying.”
“You know I’m not, Dami.”
Dami? Who the hell does he think he is? Damian clicked his tongue, falling on the sofa behind him. Jon slowly regained his strength and sat next to him. Damian was deep in thought but part of him didn’t want to believe it. Falling for Superman’s son? That maniac’s unborn baby was someone he decided to share his life with. Those fatalities are what caused this war in the first place.
“Damian, are you alright?” Jon says like his life wasn’t threatened just minutes ago.
“Explain yourself. Tell me everything you know.”
“About you?”
“About us.”
Jon sighed. This whole excursion was taking so much out of him. He almost died three times in a couple of days and the comfort of Damian beside him, on a warm comfortable sofa was amazing to him regardless of the circumstance.
“I’ve always had a crush on you since I was a kid, your feelings for me were mutual in a way but they didn’t develop into something more serious until we got a bit older. And well, on our first date, you wanted to go stargazing with me because you always seemed to enjoy it. Then when we started, I decided that perhaps I could give you a closer look, so I took you in my arms and brought you into the sky to see the stars. When you’re in high velocity the air is incredibly chilly, and I didn’t realize this because of my powers. You ended up getting sick and I felt incredibly bad, but you insisted it was your fault because you just didn’t want to ruin the moment-”
Jon perked up when Damian’s head hit his shoulder. Damian didn’t say anything but continued to listen attentively. This isn’t what Damian meant when he said, ‘Tell me everything about us,’ but he also was not going to stop him.
“We’ve been together for a couple of years now. Two years and two months to be exact… Dami, that’s how I know for a fact that you can be better than this. Nightwing isn’t supposed to be worn this way.”
Damian felt full offense. He stood up and stared daggers at Jon.
“What the hell do you know about Grayson? Nothing! You don’t know what you’re talking about to be judging me like that!” Damian shouted. “What? I’m not judging you-” Damian just became louder in rebuttal.
“Yes, you are! How do you expect me to believe that you’re different from everyone else? That you won’t do the same?!”
“These couple of days have sucked for me too and you think I kept you alive just to toy with you?”
“You think I kept you alive to be toyed with?!”
“I don’t blame you for what happened to Nightwing but why should I give you the truth when you can’t even give it to yourself?!” Jon screamed.
Silence found its company in them after Jon let those words slip from his mouth. Jon noticed Damian shaking and his heart fell to his feet.
“I’m sorry, Dami-“
“Don’t call me that.”
“… Damian, I truly don’t blame you for what happened to Dick because it wasn’t your fault.”
“Don’t you get that it isn’t better?” Damian pulled off his mask to reveal the tears he’s been fighting back. “If you hated me for that too then it would have made all of this easier. Why can’t you just hate me? How do you expect me to deal with knowing that the only people in the world who could love me are already gone?” Damian sobbed softly.
Jon only meant to step closer, but his actions escalated into a hug, one he refused to let Damian run away from no matter how hard he’d push back against him physically and emotionally.
“I could never hate you. I love you and my family way before I get to myself. You make me the happiest I’ve never been as I hope I do you. I’ve loved you my entire life and I wouldn’t stop even if the rest of the world was reduced to flames.”
Jon made the hug tighter, Damian felt like he’d burst into flames first. A feeling, an aching, and then an urge bubbled up inside of him while he was being embraced by Jon. He studied it, analyzed and assessed it as he was taught to do all things before, he felt a warmth spread throughout his body. He pushed at Jon once he realized what it must have been.
“Get off of me. Get off of me and leave!”
“What did I say?”
“Leave!” Damian spat, fury in his eyes.
Begrudgingly, Jon turned tail towards the window and made his way to exit. With one foot on it, he didn’t turn his head to say; “I’m sorry, Damian… and I love you.”
Jon flew out the window. He wanted to give his proper goodbyes to Damian since he deserved as much but Jon knew he needed some space and out of respect he was willing to give him that.
Jon spent a little over thirty minutes siphoning through the sounds in Gotham trying to find Batman and his goons but when he did, he realized how much of a tool he was. The moment he set foot inside their makeshift Batcave he, along with his goons attacked Jon before he could explain himself as if he wasn’t the person who prevented their deaths in the first place.
Other than being annoyed, he was incredibly proud because it was most likely Damian who saved them. He was sure in his heart that it was Damian because not even for a second did he doubt that he would come around.
He drilled Bruce about how he gave up on Damian to fend for himself and how no one else is going to be there for him - if he wants this conflict to end then he needs to pick up on his own hypocrisy as well.
When it was time to return to Damian, he was hesitant, though he didn’t want to leave on the note that they did.
The world was so damn quiet, not because it was peaceful but because everyone was terrified to make noise.
“Jon?” Damian said. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”
Damian’s suit had released any resemblance of Nightwing from it. It looked entirely new and seemed to fit him more.
“Your suit…”
“Yeah, I gave up Nightwing. It started to feel like I was doing a disservice to Grayson,” he stepped closer to the other.
“You have a name for it?”
“No, I’m still workshopping that.”
Jon’s eye twitched. “I want to do better but… hell if I know where to start,” Damian places his hand on Jon’s chest and the Kryptonian doesn’t flinch. His fingers spread longingly around the symbol on his chest. In a way, he felt himself ache for that hope that crest carried - he felt himself ache for the savior of his world.
“I’ll need your help.”
“All you have to do is follow your heart, Dami.”
That name again. It sounded mortifying but somehow different when he said it. When Damian gently cupped his face, closed his eyes, and leaned into Jon - forcing the other to stop him. “I can’t,” he said. “I might have my urges but… I have a Damian of my own and I can’t act on them. It’d feel like cheating. You have to understand.”
“Am I still not… good enough for you?”
“Damian… this wouldn’t be right, and you know that.”
“You made me feel like this! You can’t take responsibility?!”
Jon was silent.
“You… you said that you loved me…”
Jon exhaled deeply. “I do love you. No matter where you are. I thought in every universe I find you and I love you but… maybe, not in every universe. Although, that doesn’t mean someone can’t come along and love you for me,” Jon explained softly. “I have to go.”
“You can’t leave… you can’t leave me like this. I need you… we need you! The world needs Superman,” Damian’s head was to the floor.
"No. This world needs heroes. Any heroes. Everyone here might have the same face but the only person I could recognize was you. You are a hero, Damian Wayne, regardless of what you've done. There's always still time to do what's right. I know you. I know you can do it."
Jon held his chin up when he spoke; "I couldn't save my father... but I did save you. You're smart... you're capable and one of the strongest people I know, and I know you can turn the tides in this conflict,” if he didn’t know any better than Jon would have kissed him.
Jon abruptly turns away. He needed to get away before he no longer had the sense to make himself.
“Is this goodbye?”
“It is,” Jon sighed.
“Then will you promise me something?”
Jon tilted his head. “What is it?”
“Promise me that the next time you look at the stars you’ll remember me - you’ll remember all the versions of us in worlds where we’re less fortunate and think of ways to appreciate your world more?”
Jon’s fist clenched.
“I promise.”
—
Some time had passed since Jon had left. Damian was doing great. He was left to his own devices for a while, but he was holding up just fine. The only thing he was missing was his other half. Jon found him on the roof of an old Gotham building after interrogating some lowlife thug for the expense of hiding recreational drugs on minors. Jon snuck up on Damian or at least Damian allowed Jon to think he snuck up on him when he hugged him from behind. Seeing him was kind of jarring since he shared the face of the person he had to abandon but he should any unreasonable thoughts out of his head in order to enjoy himself with Damian.
“You’re back,” Damian declared.
“I’m back,” Jon said blissfully. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Damian tried to turn to face him, but Jon wasn’t budging. “You’re not usually this touchy, what’s up? What’d you find there?”
“There was this… evil, long-haired version of you there that really got under my skin.”
“Under your skin…?” Damian raised an eyebrow.
“Not like that… Although, he did come onto me… like he tried to kiss me but don’t worry, I rejected him.”
“… You rejected him…?”
“What?” Jon said.
“You rejected me.”
“I… sense I did something wrong, but I don’t know what it was.”
“You saw a long-haired, evil, hot version of me and didn’t kiss me?”
Jon’s jaw dropped to his knees.
“… First of all, I did not add that last part. Second of all, curse me for trying to be loyal!”
“I am offended.”
Jon scoffed and let Damian go from his grasp.
“There is no winning with you people.”
“There’s just no competition, sadly,” Damian said. Jon leaned down and planted a kiss softly across Damian’s lips, Damian smiled into it. “Since you're back, do you want to make up for it tonight?” Damian wrapped his arms around the taller boy.
“Yeah, I already have an idea in mind. Do you… want to go stargazing with me?”
“We haven’t done that in forever. What prompted this?” Damian asked.
“I think it would be fun,” Jon swooped Damian in his arms. “Well, it’s your choice,” Damian said softly.
Jon flew off with him to find a nice spot to go and watch the stars with him. To bathe in the moon’s steady glow and talk to each other about time spent together. Jon thought the other world had looked the same but no, theirs was much different, he realized how much life was in it in a way he’d never noticed before.
“… Damian… do you ever think about growing out your hair…?”
“There’s no way in hell, farm boy.”