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It is important to note that for a Kryptonian under a yellow sun, silence was a rare gift. With some time, patience and practice, most learned to manage the stimulation. Their brains could handle filtering it, and that background buzz became so normalized that they often forgot about it until they were someplace truly silent, such as the vacuum of space.
Jon was pretty used to it, even at 10. His powers had come in somewhat early, and so he’d had some time to adjust to it. Most nights he even slept like a normal kid would. But not that night. That night, at around midnight, something started pawing at the back of his consciousness. Not enough to startle him awake, but it did slowly coax him out of sleep. At first he didn’t know what was wrong, it didn’t sound like any of his friends were dying, his dad wasn’t close enough for him to hear, but was probably fine, and his mom had passed out at something close to a reasonable time for once. But then as he reached the most recent addition to his checklist, he heard it: A quiet whimper.
Chris.
Admittedly, Jon had no idea what he was doing. It didn’t stop him from hopping out of bed and walking to his brother’s room of course, but he had no idea what he was going to do when he got there. He vaguely understood that some bad stuff had happened to Chris. It wasn’t like anyone explained in any detail, and Chris sure as heck didn’t want to talk about it. But he could tell it was bad by the way his parents would frequently check in on him. Like they checked on both of them, but it was pretty clear that they were watching for something with Chris. So whatever it was, it had to be really really serious. And he figured that was why Chris was making those sad little sounds in his sleep. So, he knew that waking him was a risk…but he couldn’t just listen to him suffer like that. So he didn’t.
“Chris.” He whispered after peeking his head into Chris’ room and gathering his nerve. His brother sat upright instantly, asleep one moment, seated and scanning the room the next. It took him a beat to catch his bearings before his vision focused and he made eye contact with Jon.
“...You okay?” He asked quietly, his voice still hoarse and uncoordinated from sleep.
Something about that stung Jon a bit. Chris woke up from a night terror and his first concern was seeing if Jon needed him. Jon didn’t need that, he was fine. Nothing terrible had ever…well…maybe that wasn’t true. But even so, Chris must have had it way, way worse, so he was the one who deserved to be taken care of. He didn’t care that Chris was older, Damian was older than both of them and Jon still tried to take care of him too.
So Jon shrugged dismissively and walked into the room. “I’m fine dude, just checking on you.”
Chris’ brow pinched. “Oh. Uh. I mean, I’m fine?”
Jon rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh.”
“...What?”
“I know you were having a bad dream or something.”
Chris sighed and rubbed his eyes. “It’s fine, nightmares happen.”
“W-well yeah, but–”
“I promise if I need to be rescued, I’ll scream or something.”
“I don’t think that’s worked out for you in the past.” Jon really had no idea where that came from, it almost sounded like Damian had commandeered his vocal chords, because why would he say that to–
Chris frowned, but Jon could see the way his lips wobbled subtly, like he was trying to hold tears in. “Well…you…shut up.”
“Chris–”
“Actually, like, go to bed or whatever.”
“Chris–”
“Just leave me alone!”
“I don’t know how you don’t get this, but just because I’m not standing right in front of you doesn’t mean I can’t hear you crying anyway! Super Hearing! We have the same powers! So you might as well just let it out and maybe we can actually talk or something and stop being weird about it!”
Jon saw Chris’ irises flicker red for the briefest of seconds, before he sighed and deflated, falling back onto his pillow. “...I’m not supposed to be upset in front of you.”
Jon closed the door and walked over to Chris’ bedside, before copping a seat next to him. “Who says?”
“You’re my little brother, I shouldn’t–”
“Okay, seriously, you’re not that much older than me, and we’re about the same height, so really—”
Chris rolled over onto his side, facing away from Jon. “They’re my problems, alright? You can’t fix them, no point in bringing anything up. I don’t want it spreading.”
Jon squinted. “What? What don’t you want to spread?” Chris didn’t answer at first so Jon scooted closer to him and leaned against his back. “Chris…”
“You’re so annoying.”
“I get it from dad, I think.”
“...Yeah. Yeah.”
“If you’re worried about me getting sad, I can handle–”
“You can still be a good Superboy. Maybe a good Superman or something one day. I don’t want to change that.”
“Hey–what? Chris, if you want to be a Superboy, it’s not a big deal, I got you dude! I’ve got lots of hoodies, and maybe we could get a different color—”
“I don’t care that you’re–that wasn’t the point!”
Jon huffed out some mild frustration. “If you don’t make your point soon, I will start tickling you.”
Chris stiffened. “I’ll throw you through the wall.”
“Then Mom will be mad at both of us.”
“Maybe I’m willing to take you down with me.”
“Chris!”
“Fine! Fine. Um. I just…I don’t…I don’t think I can be happy the right way for that, not anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
Chris hesitated. “...I can’t smile right anymore. It doesn’t…Superboy should be something to look up to, right? Doesn’t work if I can’t look like I’m okay. I dunno if I can even be okay. My smile looks wrong.”
Jon sat with that for a moment. “Chris, please roll over.”
“No.”
“Well I guess Mom and Dad are going to have to replace another wall–”
Chris squeaked and rolled back onto his back, slapping away the hand Jon was about to squeeze him with. “I swear to Rao, Jon, I–oh.”
Jon cuddled up to Chris and placed his cheek on his brother’s chest. “I’m not happy all the time. Dad isn’t either. Sometimes I’m scary, I mean I nearly killed Damian’s mom that one time–”
“What—”
“It’s fine, she was smart enough to use him as a human shield, stopped me from having a clear shot for long enough to calm down.”
“...Jon…w-what–”
“My point is that if I look like I’m happy and inspiring to you when I’m actually intense and a little weird sometimes, I bet you’ll be just fine and people don’t think you’re anywhere near as messed up as you think you are. Whatever messed you up didn’t do a good enough job, cause I still like you, and Dad still likes you, and Mom and like…everyone else.”
Jon felt Chris’ breath hitch and chest tighten under his cheek. The sniffles that followed confirmed it for him.
Neither of them spoke for a while, Chris quietly crying while Jon rubbed his stomach and held him close. Eventually, Chris found words again.
“I just…I just wanted to be good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I tried really hard. And I think I did it. But just…please don’t tell anyone else I said this–”
“I got you.”
“Okay. But just…sometimes I kind of wish I hadn’t. Sometimes I wish I’d just…I dunno. I dunno what else could have happened, but maybe they could have figured it out without me. I know that’s awful, Dad doesn’t ever regret helping people, that’s the whole point. It just…hurt. A lot. For a long time. Sometimes it still does.”
Jon squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips together when he heard how Chris’ voice cracked. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard anyone sound so upset while still being so quiet. He made sure his voice didn’t give away how close he was to joining Chris in tears.
“Y-y’know, Dad isn’t happy to get hurt. Neither am I. It sucks. But not wanting to get hurt doesn't make you a bad person.”
“Wishing I’d let things get worse to save myself does.”
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
Jon felt Chris’ chin brush his hair as he looked down at him in surprise. “What?”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you could go back and change it and you did. Cause it seems like it sucked real bad. But also? I don’t think you would anyway, even if you could. Even if you deserve it. Even if no one would judge you.”
Chris let out a heavy sigh, and sniffled a few more times. “...Yeah. You’re…you’re probably right. I still feel shitty though.”
“Language.”
“Shut up.”
Jon giggled, and Chris made a little huffing sound that was something close to a laugh. Jon took it as progress. “Do you feel less ‘crappy’ with me here?”
“...A little.”
“Mkay. Then I guess I’m staying. You’re sharing that pillow with me though, I’m not going to sleep on you all night, your heart is too loud.”
They shuffled around to figure out comfortable positioning on that bed that was not intended for two people, and eventually settled in again.
At some point before sleep took them, Jon felt Chris’ cheek on his shoulder.
“…Thanks.”
Jon leaned into the touch.
“Yeah. I got you.”