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Lights twinkled on the tree, branches stretching towards the ceiling of the Justice cave.
Bart, Cassie, Robin, Greta, and Cissie slept in a pile on the couch, visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads. Not a creature was stirring- except Kon, that was.
He was back from hypertime, back with his friends. But as much as he wanted to, Kon still couldn’t sleep.
Every time he woke up in a different place, he thought he was in another reality again. In hypertime, he had so rapidly shifted from place to place. Now, it seemed hard to know what was real and what was fake. Because with limitless realities, everything was possible. There was the possibility he was a cowboy, or a girl. A possibility he was in a jungle or in the middle ages.
Possible for Robin to be dead.
Possible that he was still with Knockout.
…Suffice to say, his thoughts were keeping him awake.
Annoyingly, Kon had been having a perfectly fun day before this. Bart had insisted on celebrating Christmas together as a team. Their festivities were complete with a sleepover, a Christmas movie, messy crafts, and the cave filled to the brim with all types of decorations; a Christmas tree, stockings, paper snowflakes, garlands, wreaths, and even mistletoe. Even in the current darkness of the room he was in, just thinking about the chaotic fun they had brought a fond smile to Kon’s face.
They had spent the afternoon gluing pom poms and drawing smiley faces on little wooden discs to create ornaments of each other, and cutting up paper to make snowflakes. They had decorated the Christmas tree- or, more accurately, they randomly littered the tree with a variety of miscellaneous ornaments while Robin pleaded with Bart to “stop running around the tree before you break something”.
Bart stuck out his tongue and kept running.
After untangling Bart from the Christmas lights, they all agreed it would probably be best to continue decorating the tree later and to watch a movie instead.
Instead of calming them down, an argument between Cissie and Cassie was spurred about whether Nightmare Before Christmas was a Halloween or Christmas movie. It was only after 10 minutes, when one of them mentioned Home Alone and Greta chimed in that she didn’t know what that was, that the girls finally came to a mutual agreement: They needed to watch Home Alone.
Robin prepared the hot chocolates, with Cissie adding her ‘top secret special ingredient’- aka cinnamon- to the cups. Drinks in hand, they crowded onto the couch.
Despite Kevin’s antics on screen, the group of teens were lulled to sleep- leaving the top half of the Christmas tree unfinished and Kon to the silence.
At first, he simply watched the Wendy the Werewolf Stalker Christmas special and tried to ignore the sense of unease that creeped over him.
But it wasn’t enough.
Every shadow draped over familiar corners, disguising them until they were a stranger to his eyes. Something once known now slightly off- like a distorted mirror image.
Like staring back at your own face, the only difference being the stillness of a body. Like filling a position that should have never been vacated. Like a love that was never yours to begin with, embracing with a history now erased.
No. He needed to move, to do something, to stop thinking. He needed a distraction.
So here Kon was, at two am, putting ornaments on a tree.
It was a delicate process. Floating in the air, he carefully slipped the hook of the ornament onto a branch. There was no room for the stupid slip-ups that Kon was prone to.
Hook, hook, hook. Caution. Steady hand. Just keep a steady hand. Careful. Hook. Hook. Hook again. Repeat.
Steady.
Right now, his movements were deliberate, but all it took was one rough movement to make a mistake. A sudden callous error to mess everything up, like he always did.
Knockout, one of the biggest mistakes of the many he’s made, always liked for movements to be rough; fights tangled with flirting, marred in punches and vice-like grips.
But it wasn’t just the way he fought that she liked- but Kon’s temperament as well. While Kon loved her, she loved his usefulness. He defended her like she needed defending. Was loyal to her with mindless devotion. Knockout barely needed to lie- he simply jumped through hoops to justify her behavior and fell for every trick. Wholly obedient, like a dog.
Like a pup.
No. No. No. His mind was drifting. Right now, it was about decorating the tree and only that. He flew down to pick up more ornaments. Clutching them in his hand, he flew back up, higher.
But even the current TTK he was using reminded him of Knockout. Tactile Telekensis was his signature- but sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel it was tainted by red hair and a green bodysuit, practice sessions that steamrolled over school and friends. Sure, he had been using TTK before he met her, but she helped hone it further. Sharpened it into a weapon.
Her lessons had been useful. He hated it.
It was funny, wasn’t it? She trained him and used him at the same time. He, in turn, used what he learned against her.
And in a million realities, their paths crossed and destinies twisted ironically. Knockout attacked him. She saved him. She loved him. She lied. She tried to kill him. She died for him. She used him. She changed because of him. In every universe, he wasn’t the same person he used to be because of Knockout.
How come everything led back to her?
Kon gazed at the shiny red ornament in his palm, staring at his reflection. Thinking about Knockout was exhausting. He thought he was done with her when she was put in Kulani prison. But going into hypertime and seeing her again dredged up all of the memories. It was like she never left.
He just wanted to sleep. Wanted to sleep eternally, to never wake up and think about Knockout again.
Kon’s hand trembled.
The ornament fell from his grasp.
He should catch it. He needed to catch it. Fly with his arms outstretched- extend his TTK force field- reach out blindly and believe it wouldn’t all crash down-
He should use what Knockout taught him.
The ornament shattered on the floor.
Against the silent room, the crash resonated; like an abrupt shift to a different reality; like tearing through a million universes in a second.
Kon was at the Young Justice cave, but it felt like he was a million miles away. The shadows of the room seemed to intrude on the cheery lights of the Christmas tree.
A part of him wanted the darkness to cloud his vision, but another part was just reminded of hyperium; the dark, smokey, cloud that followed him through countless realities and wiped away lives. Of a burning jacket; the only way back home going up in an explosion.
No, no. He came back. He came back. He came back.
He just needed to sleep- sleep profoundly and not be wide awake reliving nightmares.
He needed to be real.
Distantly, he noticed he was now standing on the ground, eyes cast towards the ornament pieces still scattered on the floor.
When- when had he flown down?
He wondered if a sting of pain would wake him up to reality. To remind him that he was really here, that he wasn’t dreaming.
The shards glistened invitingly. He reached down.
“Kon?” A groggy voice came from behind him.
Kon whirled around.
A red and green figure stood there, rubbing at his eyes. “Rob.” Kon straightened up. “Sorry to wake you. I uh, was just decorating the tree. Dropped an ornament. You can go back to sleep, I’ll take care of it.” He tried for a confident smile. It felt more wobbly than he wanted it to be. Hopefully, the darkness covered it up.
Robin scrutinized him. “Okay,” he said slowly. “At least let me help clean it. I can go get a broom.” Robin turned and walked out of the room.
Kon took a shaky breath. Get it together, Kon-El! He scolded himself. Without Robin, the silence loomed.
But not for long. It seemed like in a blink of a second, Robin was back. Armed with a pan and broom, he quickly swept up the ornament pieces, then leaned under the tall Christmas tree, head disappearing under the broad branches as he cleaned up under the tree as well.
Now that Kon was thinking about it, where had they gotten a tree so big? And how exactly had they gotten the tree into the cave?
Robin emerged, pan filled with shards. “There.” He announced victoriously. “See; quick and easy.”
Kon cracked a small smile. “Thanks. Ah, you have a few-” Kon reached over to Rob’s hair and, running his fingers through the strands, plucked leaves out of his hair. He waggled them in front of Rob’s face, amusedly noting that the red Christmas lights cast an effect of blush on Robin’s cheeks. “Leaves got stuck in your hair. Y’know, I’m surprised you were on board to get a tree.”
Robin sighed. “I wanted a fake one. Less maintenance, lasts longer…”
“And?”
“…And that wasn’t fun at all. Plus, Bart and Greta really wanted to pick out a huge tree, so… here we are.”
Kon snorted, turning to look up at the tree that towered over them. It really was cool.
The two boys, gazing up at the tree, stood in silence; but it didn’t seem oppressive like before.
Rob cleared his throat. “So, Kon,” Robin fiddled with a fir needle. “What’re you really doing awake?”
…So much for covering that up. “Just thinking.” Robin tilted his head. Go on, he motioned with his hand. “Ugh, about hy- the JLA secret mission.” Kon quickly finished.
“Ah. The ‘secret mission’.”
“Sorry it was so hush hush- I don’t even know if I should be telling you Rob, I mean, I didn’t even tell Cadmus-” Kon cut himself off, taking in Rob’s silence. It was suspicious. “Wait, Rob…” He stopped again. Robin’s face stayed impassive. Kon gaped. “…You already know what happened, don’t you.”
Rob hummed noncommittedly. “Bits and pieces.” Kon gave him an incredulous look. “What? You thought I wasn’t gonna look into it?”
“Rob, you are a riot.” Kon snickered. “So then, y’know that I went to alternate realities?” Robin nodded. Kon took a deep breath. “Well- d’you know Knockout?”
Robin stiffened. “I’ve heard of her.”
“Here, she wasn’t…. the best. But in one universe I went to- Knockout… she was better. She said that Superboy- her Superboy, that is- saved her from a life of crime.” Kon’s hands tensened into a fist. “It’s just- if Superboy in that universe could have changed her, why couldn’t I?” He should have done more. Maybe, if Kon had tried just a little bit harder, he could have helped her.
Knockout loved the Superboy of her world. They were partners. Why then, in this universe, he was nothing to her but a pup playing pretend, a fun tool to use and then throw away? Did he do something to deserve how she hurt him?
“Her Superboy was the same as me. The same face, same body, same costume, same scars, same fingerprints. Then why-” his voice wavered. Why wasn’t I enough?
“Kon-”
Kon barreled on. “I found a universe where she loved me. And I still messed it up. Her Superboy died and I was a bad screw up of a replacement. Yet Knockout still sacrificed her own life to save me. How come every universe I go to, the people closest to me are dead?” What am I doing wrong?
Robin shook his head, mouth open in protest.
No. No, it was important that Robin understood. “Rob.” He blurted out. “In one universe- you were dead. And I know there are a gazillion different possibilities, but…”
When would it become real? When would the trail of death following Kon- the bodies of Officer Smithson, Victor Volcanum, Knockout, even Westfield- encompass his friends?
“…But that doesn’t matter here. We’re in this reality now, Kon. Right here.”
“Right here.” Kon echoed. “But then why…” he trailed off.
Why did it feel like he never left? Like his head was spinning, feet never finding solid ground, destined to be misplaced in time? Like he was still stranded in another dimension, no one coming to find him?
Robin stared at him for a moment. “Kon…” He started, then paused. “Wait here.” He scurried off.
Kon barely took note. A fresh wave of panic was overtaking him. Sensations blended together. He could only hear his own breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Kon shut his eyes, tight, fingers clenched. He couldn’t stop imagining all the potential scenarios- the mistakes he made, the people he couldn’t save.
He didn’t know whether seconds or minutes passed, but eventually, footsteps reapproached. Kon opened his eyes to Robin making his way back in the room. “Here.” With a loud thunk, he plopped an item onto the table.
Kon peered at the book in front of him. “A… cookbook? Where did you even get this?”
“Our library has everything, remember? And we-” Rob flipped through the pages, before stopping on one. “-are gonna make Christmas cookies.”
Kon blinked. “You serious?”
Robin pointed at the first set of instructions. “Read.” He commanded.
Kon let out a laugh. "Alright, okay! Preheat the oven at 350...” As he read the instructions, Robin got to work, clanking pans and pouring ingredients. “…and then, using a mixer, beat the butter and sugar together.”
Robin let out a hum as he scoured the cabinets. “We don’t have a mixer.” He passed the butter bowl and a wooden spoon to Kon. “Can you mix them together?”
“Uh, sure.” He started to stir the ingredients together like a soup. That… didn’t do anything. Couldn’t he just-? He touched the bowl, using his TTK to whip the mixture together.
Robin plucked the bowl away. “Nope. This is a ‘no TTK’ recipe.”
Kon scowled. “Rob. I’m not a mixer. I don’t know how to ‘beat butter and sugar’.”
“Well, here I’ll show you.” Robin took off his gloves, placing them on the table. “Don’t want these getting messy...” Rob moved closer to Kon, placing his hands over Kon’s and repositioning the spoon. “Here. You just have to mash it against the bowl, then mix it ‘till it’s all combined. Scrape the edges of the bowl to get all of the sugar." Robin’s hand was warm against Kon’s, gripping it tight. As he instructed, his hair brushed by Kon’s cheek. “After a few minutes, it should be pretty light and fluffy.”
“Uh, alright. What’s after that?”
Robin stepped away from Kon, deeming his mixing satisfactory. Kon felt an odd twinge at the distance. “We, uh,” Robin checked the cookbook, “mix the wet and the dry mixtures.” He moved to grab the flour, baking powder, and salt mixture. Robin poured the flour in the bowl as Kon kept mixing.
Once the ingredients had fully combined, Rob grabbed the rolling pin. “Now, we can flatten it out.”
They scooped the dough out of the bowl and rolled it out until, finally, they had a large sheet of dough.
“We don’t have cookie cutters, so-” Robin brandished two knives “-we’re gonna be cutting our own.”
Kon raised an eyebrow as Robin handed him a knife. “Still no TTK? These are gonna be real wonky, Rob.”
Robin shrugged. “I mean, doesn’t matter what they look like, as long as they taste good.”
Fair point, Kon had to concede. He gripped the knife, cold metal against his skin, and sunk it into the soft dough. Carefully, concentrating hard, Kon guided the knife. It was a delicate process.
A delicate process that was being interrupted by Rob’s… insightful commentary.
Rob scanned the shape Kon was cutting out. “Is that... a leaf? Like a caterpillar got hungry, type of leaf?”
Kon pouted. “It’s a Christmas tree. Is yours, uh,” he peered over. Robin was definitely making a Santa hat- and a good one at that. “a rainbow?”
Rob glared. Kon smirked right back.
They continued creating their cookies. Eventually, the sheet had been all diced up into all types of shapes- hearts, mittens, stockings, and gingerbread men.
As Robin took out a tray and tore parchment paper, Kon studied the cookies. He had really messed up on some of them- there was a star where he had accidentally cut off one of the points, a candy cane that looked more like a ‘P’, and a reindeer that… was entirely unrecognizable.
The cookies were crooked. They were misshapen. They were lumpy, distorted, and did not look like the cute Christmas cookies in the recipe book whatsoever.
Kon grinned proudly. And he had made them, with his own hands; no tactile telekinesis needed.
Robin transferred the cookies over to the tray. “Alright, now in the oven for 10 minutes,” He announced as he slid it into the oven. “And let's make the frosting. Kon, what do we need?”
Kon looked at the book. “1/4 cup of butter, 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar, 3 tablespoons milk, and 1 teaspoon vanilla extract stirred together,” he read aloud. Robin dumped the ingredients in a bowl, mixing until they combined into a fluffy cream.
“Mmh, let me try this,” Kon reached over and scooped a dollop of frosting with his fingers, sticking it into his mouth. “Hm. It’s pretty good!”
“Kon- you have a little-” Rob suddenly reached towards his face then stopped, fingers hovering a few inches above his mouth. “Uhm. Frosting.”
Was it just Kon, or was the room hot? Hopefully the cookies weren’t burning. “T-thanks Rob.” He wiped his cheek, brushing off the icing, and cleared his throat. “So- so how are the cookies going?”
“Uh, good question, I’ll check the cookies. You put the icing in a ziploc bag.” He rapidly turned to face the oven.
Comfortable silence stretched between the two of them as they busied themselves with their tasks. Robin peeked into the oven. Kon repetitively scooped and threw mounds of frosting into the bag. Robin moved to the sink, turning on the tap, and began cleaning some of the utensils they had used. Kon closed the bag, finally full of frosting, and flattened it to one corner.
A thought had been brewing while he had been baking the cookies, an action he needed to take. At that moment, it felt important that he voice it to Robin.
He didn’t say the words loudly, but in the quiet, it resonated. “I think I should see Knockout.”
The sound of scrubbing and clangs of measuring cups of stilled. Kon heard Robin’s intake of breath.
“I haven’t seen her since… since she got put in there. But I just need to check that our realities are different. That there really wasn’t anything else I could have done for her.”
Rob put his hand on Kon’s shoulder. Kon faced him. “Kon… ” Robin started hesitantly. But Kon met his gaze unflinchingly. His mind was set. “…Stay safe,” he finished. There wasn’t anything else he had to say.
DING! The oven cheerfully fractured the solemness.
Robin withdrew his hand. “Ah, we should, uh, get that. Uh, can you see if there’s sprinkles in the pantry?”
Kon jerkily nodded his head and strode over into the pantry. There was an assortment of sprinkles: all colors, shapes and sizes. There were a lot of sprinkles for a superhero’s headquarters. It had Bart written all over it. “Lotta sprinkles here, Rob. We gonna use them all?” he called out.
“Just bring as many as you can!”
Kon piled the containers into his arms and began to walk out distractedly, taking note of all of the other food stacked on the shelves.
Robin suddenly popped in the entryway of the pantry. “Hey, d’you need any help carryi-”
They collided in the doorway. Sprinkles sprinkled onto the ground.
“Ow,” Rob complained, rubbing his head. His eyes flickered up to the ceiling for a moment. He paused. Groaned. “Kon, don’t look up.”
Naturally, Kon looked up.
Mistletoe.
He put his head in his hands. “I am going to kill Bart.” He looked down at the ground. “...After we pick these all up.”
The two of them crouched down, hands sweeping up the multicolored specks. “Cleaning my mess yet again, huh, Rob.”
Robin chuckled. “I don’t mind.” he said softly. Kon grinned.
As they picked up the sprinkles, just for a moment, their hands brushed by each other. The touch felt electric. They looked up at each other. Rob’s lips fluttered as he breathed out. Kon leaned in closer.
“Hey, these smell good!” Kon and Robin abruptly jerked apart and turned their hands in tandem towards the unexpected voice. Bart raced into the room, eyes fixated on the pastries sitting at the center of the table.
The rest of the Young Justice team buzzed into the room.
“Ooh,” Cassie waved her fingers over the cookies, “yummy.”
Robin quickly pushed himself off the ground and sped over to protect the cookies. “You need to let them cool off!” he shouted. “There isn’t even frosting on them!”
“Greta, wanna see how many I can fit in my mouth.” Bart, completely ignoring Rob, picked up a handful and started throwing the cookies into his mouth. “1- 2- 3-” he started, his counting muffled. Greta cheered him on.
“Bart, don’t do that- Greta don’t encourage him!”
“Rob, what’s this shape?” Cissie picked up a cookie and held it up. “Some kinda rainbow?”
“It’s a Santa hat!!”
Kon let out a peal of laughter.
It felt nice.
The scene washed over Kon, The smell of freshly baked cookies. Christmas lights glowing. His team, his closest friends, bickering. He looked at it all fondly.
Cassie bounded over him, cookies victoriously stolen from the cooling tray. “Hey Kon, have you tried one yet?” She offered a cookie to him. Kon grabbed it and took a bite.
It was soft, chewy. The flavor seeped into his mouth, a sweet and gentle taste. It was good. Maybe this night wasn’t too bad after all.
Kon looked at Robin, across the room. He caught his eyes. Thanks. Kon mouthed. Rob smiled. The room felt warm.
This was where he belonged.
Kon felt real.