Chapter Text
Kon wipes the imaginary sweat from his forehead as he leaves the chicken coop, absorbing the Kansas sun. Working at Martha Kent’s home never fails to bring him a sense of satisfaction. One that’s equal to when he’s working as Superboy.
Life has been good lately. Really good, maybe even too good. It’s been getting to the point that it’s making him nervous. Kon doesn’t get good things. This is a precedent that has been set from the moment he was created. His life is one that’s filled with backstabbing, realizations of betrayal, and suffering.
Call him dramatic (which he is) but a pattern is a pattern, and as the bats would say, ‘there is no such thing as coincidence.’ So, Kon is expecting something to go wrong any day now.
But it hadn’t. So he sort of just… settles in.
He is in a loving relationship with Tim. One that proved to be good for the both of them. They have been friends almost his whole life, and were in a situationship for half of that. Now, he officially can call them boyfriends, or partners as Tim likes to put it.
His relationship with Clark and the rest of the supers has improved immensely over the past few years. They are to the point that he could call them family, Clark’s parents being an outlier, of course. He has been a part of the Kent family for far longer than he’s been a part of the super family. Martha and Jonathan Kent made him realize a lot of things, mostly that he is worthy of the good things in life, and that he isn’t hard to love at all. They adored him from the moment they saw him.
Kon even has a little brother slash cousin to dote on now. Apparently, Jon has always looked up to him as a brother figure, he’s just never been able to actually meet him. According to Clark and Lois, Kon has exceeded the kid’s expectations and he fell into the big brother role like he was meant for it all along.
“Kon,”
Now Kon is trying to figure out what he wants to do with the rest of his life. He does the hero work, has the secret identity, got the guy, and… now what? What is next for Kon El.
“Kon El!”
Kon startles at the hand snapping in front of his face. “Huh? What– huh?”
Tim smiles and looks up at him, holding his sun hat with one hand to keep it from falling off. “Hi! Thank goodness, I finally made contact with Starship Kon-El. Are you done cruising around, space cadet?”
Kon snorts. “Very funny, Mister Hyperfixation,”
Tim wags his finger at him, “That’s Mr. Sarcastic to you. And my obsession with Batman is something I told you about in confidence, Kon-El,”
“And yet everyone and their mother knows about it…”
Tim rolls his eyes and playfully smacks his invulnerable shoulder. “So, what had you so lost in space, anyway?”
Kon looks away from him. Not to avoid him, just to think for a moment. He surveys the huge, open skies of Kansas. The flat planes filled with fields aplenty, the background noise of the farm animals and the tinkling of silverware from the house. Ma must be unloading the dishwasher. “Honestly babe, it’s complicated. Lots of big thoughts up in this starship, y’know?”
“We can uncomplicate them together,” Tim offers, leaning in slightly, his voice softens. “Come on, hit me with it,”
Kon hums, then looks back at Tim. “You know that feeling you get when everything’s going well, but it’s never lasted this long before, and now you’re stuck tryna figure out what to do with your life ‘cause you aren’t in the middle of a crisis?”
Tim opens and closes his mouth. “Oh.” he nods slowly, processing all of that. “Those are big thoughts,”
“Yep,” Kon murmurs, looking away again.
“Well…” Tim starts, “I do understand what you mean. I think I feel the same way, honestly. For me it was my mom dying, then my dad, then some bat stuff, then you dying, and Bart, and then my spleen, and…”
“Jesus christ, Tim,” Kon winces, despite knowing about all of this. Hearing it all laid out like that really puts it into perspective.
Tim waves his hands frantically. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to make this about me or anything, and it’s not a competition! Just trying to relate,”
Kon urges him on, giving him a lopsided smile. “Yeah I get it. Go on?”
“Right,” Tim glances away and takes a deep breath. “So I’ve also been feeling… kind of lost. But, Kon,” here Tim takes Kon’s hand and rubs his thumb over his knuckles. “I’m pretty sure I’ve found myself with you,”
Kon breath catches. “Tim…”
Tim squeezes his hand. His voice is steady. “Call it cheesy, or crazy, but this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. My family’s getting along, my team is doing as well as they ever are, and I have you with me.” He squeezes his hand. “And honestly, for me? Right now that’s all that matters,”
“Oh,” Well, now Kon kind of felt like an asshole. If Tim is happy just being with him, why isn’t he? Why did Kon have to be so greedy and want more than this? What the hell is he looking for? A purpose? What a joke! Who even has one of those?
Kon pulls his hand out of Tim’s and turns to look back at the horizon, his chest tight.
Tim blanches. “Crap– uh, I didn’t mean to downplay your feelings. My idea of happiness doesn’t need to match yours, Kon,” Tim quickly backtracks, trying to pull his foot out of his mouth. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad,”
Kon lets out a sigh. “No, it’s fine. You said it–different ideas of happiness, right?” they share a nod, “I am happy though, Tim. I just…” He pauses, articulating what he wants to say. “I feel like I need to do something more with my life now,”
Tim clasps his hands together and brings his pointer fingers to his chin. An iconic pose of his that signifies he’s thinking hard about something. “Doing hero work doesn’t feel fulfilling to you?”
“No it does– agh. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just growing out of ‘Superboy’ or somethin,’”
Tim snaps his fingers. “You know what, I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing!” His eyes gleam with ideas.
Now Kon is confused. He blinks twice, trying to process. “Um– wait, you have?”
“Yeah!” Tim’s lips twist into a sheepish grin. “I mean, Red Robin is great and all, but it… I made him when I wasn’t in a good place, and now that I’m in the best place I’ve ever been, it doesn’t really feel like me anymore,”
“I guess that makes sense,” Kon says, reflecting on how Tim had acted that year. He’d really gone off the rails.
Tim winks with a cheeky tip of his sun hat, “Plus, Red Robin is more of an underground vigilante. With you as my partner, I need an identity that can be in the spotlight,”
“Yeah?” Kon nods along and starts to walk up towards the house. He had noticed that Tim’s face was getting flushed from the heat, and he still needs to bring in the eggs anyway. “You already have an idea of what you wanna do, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. How about you– wait, stupid question, that’s what this conversation’s about in the first place,”
“Yeah I have no idea– Krypto heel!” Kon hears Krypto coming seconds before he arrives. The Superdog comes to a clumsy stop into Kon’s calves. Tim doesn’t react visibly, but his heartbeat jumps with adrenaline at the doggy jumpscare. “Sorry about that, he’s used to Supers knowing when he’s coming,”
“He’s fine. Good boy, Krypto,” Tim holds his hand out for Krypto to sniff, to which the dog wags his tail as he recognizes his scent.
Kon leads them all up the stairs where Ma is waiting for them. “Hey, Ma. We got the eggs,”
“Took y’all longer than I thought it would,” Ma says, waving a spatula in their direction. “Put ‘em down on the counter, dear. Thank you for always workin’ so hard, especially you, Timothy,”
“Hey now,” Kon murmurs while Tim preens.
“Sucks to suck, clone boy,”
“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you,” Kon says without thinking about it.
Tim chokes on his spit and Ma makes a sound like a wheezing hyena. “Kon– in front of Ma?!” he frantically slaps his shoulder.
Kon balks. “Shit, I said that out loud,”
Tim facepalms and shoves Kon towards the stairs. “Okay bye Mrs. Kent see you later– Kon move faster!”
They hurry up the stairs to escape any more mortification. Ma has a habit of taking jokes a lot further than necessary, and neither of them feel the need to be traumatized today.
Krypto follows them up the stairs curiously, tilting his head at their antics but continuing to wag his tail. When they reach Kon’s bedroom, Tim immediately races for his laptop and swivels it towards Kon.
“What are you doing?” Kon says. He scratches Krypto’s ears absently as the dog presses his face into his leg and paws at the air, asking for pets. Krypto flops over on the floor, belly up, and Kon obligingly leans over to rub it. His face twitches with discomfort at the movement, wincing slightly.
“Showing you–” Tim flips his screen around. “My ideas for new hero identities!” And it’s a powerpoint. Honestly, what was he expecting? “So I’m thinking we debut again together, around the same time. We’ll still be a part of Young Just Us so we– Kon, are you okay?”
“Huh?” Kon blinks and looks away from his dog. His hand unconsciously goes to rest on his stomach, which is firm beneath his hand.
“You made a face. Are you hurt?” Now Tim looks really worried, because something that can hurt a kryptonian was something to be very, very worried about. Kon almost winces again at his concern, but he focuses on giving a reassuring smile.
“Naw, I just thought about something silly, like an intrusive thought. Anyway, you were saying?” He urges. Thankfully, Tim buys his excuse and continues going through his laptop.
Sometimes being thought of as the dumb, teenage kryptonian with muscles for brains works in his favor. Nobody expects him to be clever enough to deceive anyone, much less the greatest detectives in the Justice League. People like to forget the fact that he’s mentally almost twenty now.
As he listens to his partner’s ideas, his own thoughts run wild. He has been getting these weird pains for weeks now, but he hasn’t really registered them as something to be concerned over. He supposes he has been too busy to think about it, but now that it was pointed out to his face like this… Is there something wrong with him?
A few weeks had passed since Kon started feeling… off, for lack of a better word. The aching had yet to subside, and it felt like his health was only continuing to worsen, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He thought that if he ignored it, it would go away and he would get better. He always bounces back, so why should this be any different?
Except he was starting to believe he wasn’t injured at all. He’s been having moments of weakness almost every day, and the exhaustion after patrol was becoming undeniable. The more he ignores it, the worse it seems to get. It’s gotten to the point where he now hesitates before every mission, worried that he may become a liability in the field.
Now, Kon’s stomach is churning. An unwelcome feeling that has become all too familiar. Just another symptom that’s started plaguing him. He feels clammy and cold, dizzy in a way that is wholly unfamiliar to him.
“Kon? You haven’t eaten much. Not feeling spaghetti tonight?” Tim motions with his fork towards Kon nearly full plate.
Kon smiles thinly at Tim, swallowing down the lump of nausea, “You know I love a good pasta. I think I had too big a snack earlier so I’m not super hungry,” he lies, the words feeling choked out of him. He can feel Tim staring at him, sharp and dissecting.
When he glances up, Tim’s eye twitches in a way that screams he’s suspicious. He knows his excuses are weak, alright? It’s just that if he takes one more bite he is going to throw up, and it’s night time right now so there’s no Solar Ex-Machina to save him.
The rest of their dinner is quiet, and the air is tense with unspoken words. It’s palpable, and Kon can’t meet Tim’s eyes for too long. The pressure of the moment makes him want to crawl out of his skin, and Kon can’t leave quick enough.
He briefly kisses Tim and then he’s off, moving too fast for Tim to see until he’s out of sight, and it’s only then that he lets his altitude drop. His wobbly flying and waning concentration don’t make for a smooth ride.
By the time he’s back at Ma’s, he can’t hold it in anymore. His stomach rebels, and he throws up the little he ate that day behind the barn. It’s painful, and an entirely unfamiliar experience for him.
Kon wipes his mouth and grimaces at the awful taste left on his palate. He glances around him and listens, but the only eyes he finds are the cows. One of them is staring at him, chewing her cud in a somehow judgemental fashion.
Kon glares back at her. “Oh don’t look at me like that,” he mutters, despite knowing she can’t understand him. She moos indignantly, as if to remind him that cows can judge people too.
Kon sighs and decides he has better things to do than hold a staring contest with a cow. He trudges through the backyard until he reaches the steps to the house. The stairs have grown to be daunting on a normal day, and are downright exhausting to look at now that he feels weak and shaky after his little episode in the bushes.
He lets his TTK bring him the rest of the way into the house, silently praying that Ma isn’t up to see him like this. He makes it to his room and collapses on his bed, immediately curling into a fetal position with his arms curled around himself in a facsimile of a hug.
Kon feels miserable. He doesn’t want to be alone right now. He wishes someone was there to help take care of him, but nobody ever did that, not really. He’s supposed to be all grown up now, a perfect clone, a real adult. He was nineteen, he shouldn’t need people to baby him anymore.
That doesn’t stop him from wishing Tim were here right now.
A soft clicking of nails on hardwood reaches his sensitive ears, followed by the swish of a tail outside his window. He tilts his head and opens the window with TTK. Krypto rushes in and before Kon can even tell him to heel, slows down before he barrels into Kon’s pathetic form.
A whine escapes Krypto’s throat, and he licks at Kon’s hands where they’re resting over his belly. His eyes are wide and imploring, as though peering into Kon’s soul and trying to decipher why he was hurting.
Kon sniffles and reaches up to lay a hand on his dog. “Good boy, Krypto. Good boy.”
To get straight to the point? Kon threw up again. A lot. The very next morning he found himself unable to keep his breakfast down and was head first in a toilet bowl again, this time with no boyfriend to pat his back and comfort him.
“Ugh…” Kon curled up on the bathroom tile. “This sucks,” he leaned back against the tub and hid his face in his arms.
Nearby, the sound barrier broke accompanied by the tinkling of a familiar tag. He looked up seconds before a white blur found its way up into his arms and licked at his chin.
“Krypto!” Kon laughed, all upset washed away by the super dog. “Aw, man, thanks buddy, yes, thank you,” he squinted and gently patted Krypto away from his face so he stopped trying to lick his eyeballs.
Krypto sat back on his haunches and let out a soft bark in greeting. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he tilted his head cutely, the way dogs do.
“Did you hear me moping, bud? Thank you, I feel better now,” Kon scratched behind the dog’s ears. “good boy, Krypto, good boy,”
Krpyto nuzzled into his palm with a lick to his wrist before he paused. His head tilted again, left and right like he was puzzling something out. Suddenly Krypto was shoving his way back into Conner’s arms, this time sniffing at his torso.
“Wha– buddy!” Kon laughed. Krypto flopped over into his lap and wiggled, pressing his side into Kon. Somehow it felt gentler than usual. “Yes yes, do you want a treat?” Krpyto’s ears perked and he froze, panting. “Yeah, a treat? Let’s go get you one,”
Kon pushed himself off of the tiled floor and washed up in the sink. Krypto stuck glued to his side the whole time, his ears turning back and forth like he was listening very carefully to something. Kon wondered what he was listening to, and strained his own ears to focus on the surrounding area.
The only thing he heard was animal noises and the occasional soft conversation of neighbors a mile down the road. Maybe Krypto was listening to another animal’s conversation, gathering intel or something. He snorted. That was certainly a thought.
When Kon got to the stairs Krypto flew down a few steps in front of him, only he paused a bunch of times to look back at Kon as he followed him down. “Hm? I don’t have a treat yet, buddy, just one second,” he laughed.
He opened the treat package, the crinkling making Krypto go absolutely wild with the zoomies. The superdog barked and spun in circles in the air and on the ground.
“Okay, Krypto! Sit!” Kon ordered.
Krypto sat, eyes on his prize and tail wagging so fast it was a blur in two places at once. Kon gave him the treat and pet his fuzzy ears, squishing his face between his palms as Krypto licked his chops. He earned a lick to the nose for his troubles, and giggled uncontrollably.
He was so distracted by the super dog, he completely forgot about throwing up that morning.
A week later, Kon looks into the mirror and he doesn’t understand what he’s seeing.
He’d just finished a shower a few moments ago, and now he is stumbling back into the wall, aghast at his own appearance. He’d never felt so unfamiliar with his body before in his life.
Nothing seemed wrong at first, but there were a ton of seemingly infinitesimal things that added up. The way his weight was distributed had changed. His abs look weirdly bloated, and his skin is shinier. Even his hair looks different, thicker somehow.
His face looks a little sharper, and he realizes he’s lost weight in some areas. In others, he’s gained some.
Great. Just great. This was exactly what he needed. Not only did his body feel strange and unfamiliar, but his reflection also looked like someone else's—alien, in more ways than one.
He wonders if anyone else has even noticed. No, Tim has definitely noticed. Tim always notices.
Rao, this is getting terrifying. The physical evidence that something is wrong makes reality slam into him. Anxiety has been gnawing at him for as long as he’s known something was off, and it’s only gotten worse.
He thinks he’s having a panic attack. His breathing quickens, stuttering in his chest as he slides down the wall, clutching at his knees. He feels like he’s dying. He’s not though, he’s not dying, he knows he’s not. He has died before after all. He tries to inhale, but he can’t.
Outside the bathroom door, Krypto is whining. The dog must be able to hear his distress. Kon barely hears him over his own heartbeat, so he’s startled when Krypto forces the door open and drops his–slightly slobbery– phone at his feet.
Kon zeros in on the device. His hands tremble as he picks it up. He fumbles with the screen and taps the number at the top of his contacts.
“Hey, It's my Kon! How are you?” Tim’s voice cuts through the panic, and he clings to it like it’s a lifeline. His breath catches, and he lets out a helpless sob.
He hears a gasp and the sound of something wooden– a chair, maybe– clattering loudly to the ground. “What’s wrong?” Tim’s voice goes all business. “Where are you?”
“I’m–” he gasps in air, “At home. Think I’m– panic–” his vision blurs with tears and lack of oxygen.
“You’re having a panic attack?” Tim’s voice sharpens with urgency. Kon can only grunt in response “Okay, honey, I’m here. We’re going to breathe together alright? I’ll count. Focus on my voice,”
Kon clings to Tim’s voice, the steady cadence grounding him as he’s guided through box breathing. His breath stutters out of him a few times, but eventually he feels the air returning to his lungs.
“How are you feeling?” Tim asks gently after a few moments of silence. “Do you want me to come over?”
A wave of longing crashes over him. He wants Tim to come over and take care of him so badly it hurts. He covers his trembling lips with an equally unsteady hand. “I think I’m okay now,” his voice cracks, and Kon winces at his own transparency.
There’s a soft exhale, followed by, “...You know that I’d love to come see you. Anytime, anywhere,”
Kon hums weakly, his voice higher than usual. “Mmhm.”
He hears Tim whisper, “Oh, Kon…” Followed by a quiet, “I love you, hon,”
Kon’s heart aches. “Love you too,” He hangs up abruptly and stares at the floor. His vision swims, and he feels his body start to tilt over, suddenly filled with exhaustion. Krypto rushes in, nudging at him with his warm body to keep him upright. He’s giving Kon his best puppy dog eyes, looking up at him with naked concern.
“M’sorry, Krypto. I’m kind of a mess right now,” Kon whispers hoarsely. He rubs at his face, grimacing at the wetness around his eyes.
Krypto nudges his way under his arm and leans hard against his body. The dog’s presence is oddly grounding. Kon almost feels like Krpyto already knows exactly what’s happening with him. “You’re smarter than any of us, huh?” Krypto licks at his chin in response.
Kon sighs and stares up at the bathroom sink. “Well, Krypto, buddy. I don’t think I’m okay,” he admits lightly. Saying it out loud doesn’t make it any better, and his voice just echoes back at him.
His mind drifts towards Tim—his ever-supportive partner. Tim who had wanted to come over, anytime, anywhere, for any reason. Maybe Kon didn’t have to be alone in this after all. Maybe he should reach out.
Maybe it was time to talk to Tim.