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“Hero” Is A Four-Letter Word

Summary:

Jon Kent was excited to have a sleepover with Damian. But when the night actually comes, he seems upset. Damian is determined to find out why and cheer him up.

…Only problem is, he's never been the best at comforting others. But he has to try—there's nothing he won't do for Jon.

For Whumpril Day 13: Weak Link

Work Text:

Damian did not often ask for favors.

But Richard had been encouraging him to be more 'open' lately, whatever that meant, and so when Jon happened to mention he had a three day weekend coming up, Damian decided perhaps he could make an effort to appease his brother. Just something small, that wouldn't be too taxing because he liked Jon anyway. He got his opportunity to ask Bruce as they were getting ready for patrol that evening: could he and Jon have a sleepover? Assuming the Kents agreed, of course.

They did. Clark and Lois said that of course Jon was welcome to stay the night the following Friday, provided that he finished all his schoolwork before flying to Gotham. Jon had been all smiles as he told Damian. "I'm gonna work really hard and finish all my stuff for the week super fast! Wayne Manor is so huge; I can't wait to stay there!" He went on rambling about all the games they could play, movies they could watch, and every other fun thing he could think of.

Which made his current state on the night of the sleepover itself—quiet and barely engaged in the FIFA match he and Damian were playing—somewhat concerning. Damian furrowed his brow as Jon let in yet another goal, apparently not even trying to defend. "Kent," he said. "If you don't wish to play anymore, you can simply say so."

Jon shrugged. "It's fine." He kept staring at the screen, controller clenched in his hands yet barely moving the joysticks. Something was clearly distracting him.

That, in turn, was distracting Damian. Was he ill? Annoyed at Damian for something? Tired, or maybe hungry? One of those was easier to solve than the others. "What do you want for dinner?" Damian tried. "Alfred can make anything you want. Even desserts. His pumpkin pies are delectable."

"I don't care. Whatever you want." Jon looked down at his lap.

Not hungry, then. So maybe the problem lay with the activity itself. "Do you want to play a different game? I know you mentioned Mario Kart last week when we planned this."

Another shrug. "Sure."

He sounded so glum that it was almost making Damian feel bad. And when Mario Kart had loaded up and Jon's expression remained just as downcast after the first race, Damian finally decided to be direct. Instead of starting a new match, he muted the television. "Something's wrong."

Jon bit his lip. "It's nothing. I don't want you to worry about it."

Damian crossed his arms. "Trust me, Kent, if I could ignore your distress, I would. Be honest. I would like to know why you are upset."

Letting out a low sigh, Jon leaned back, sinking into the beanbag chair. "Do you remember Wednesday?"

Damian thought for a moment. Wednesday had been a fairly eventful day, as he recalled. A villain named Mr. Quigley had wanted to capture a hero for ransom. He lured Superboy in with a report of a cat stuck in a tree, and then trapped him (and the cat) with a kryptonite net. Superman had solved the situation fairly quickly—he gave Quigley the money he wanted to secure Jon's release, and then immediately went after him as soon as Jon was out of danger. Quigley was now rotting in jail, and presumably would be for the next decade or so. There was no lasting threat.

"I remember," Damian said. "But you were unharmed, correct? I’m sure the kryptonite was not fun, but your healing factor should have dealt with it as soon as you were freed. Surely it did not take two days for you to recover."

"It didn't. I’m fine." Jon took a deep breath. "It's just that—well, Dad had to save me. What if it was Bruce who always had to be rescuing you?"

Damian pressed his lips together. "I wouldn't let that happen, Kent. You know me."

"Yeah, well I didn't have a choice." Jon set down his controller and brought his knees up to his chest. "I was useless, Dami. I’m supposed to be a superhero, do the saving, but instead I needed it myself. What does that make me?"

This conversation was rapidly going places far beyond Damian's expertise. Where was Richard when Damian needed him? "You're not useless. Being captured doesn't mean you're not still a hero. And you did rescue the cat. That's a good thing."

"Superman saves people," Jon replied. "Dozens of them. Every day."

"A cat is easily worth a dozen people." An attempt to make Jon laugh, even if Damian did essentially believe it anyway.

Jon didn't laugh. Instead he seemed like he was on the verge of tears, just barely able to hold them back. "I’m the weak link in my family, Damian. Quigley went after me for a reason. I was easy to get. Sometimes I don't think I'm even worthy of being a hero."

Damian sighed and leaned forward. It seemed he was going to have to at least try to comfort Jon, unless he wanted his friend to break down sobbing on a night that should have been the highlight of the month. "You know Todd, yes?"

"Your brother Jason?" Jon nodded, wiping his eyes. He hadn't quite started crying yet, but tears still threatened to fall.

"Correct. I’m sure you are also familiar with his death. It would therefore logically follow that dying because Batman did not arrive in time would be the pinnacle of 'needing rescue.' Right?"

Reluctantly, Jon nodded again.

"So, I will ask. Is Todd the weak link in my family? After everything he has done as Red Hood, everything he did for me while we were both in the League?"

"I… guess not," Jon replied. Some of the tension in his body seemed to fade.

Damian snapped his fingers. "There you go. Needing to be rescued sometimes doesn't make you incompetent. You are still more than worthy of being a hero, Jon."

Jon remained hesitant. "…So who is the weak link in your family, then?" Insecurity was still writ on his face.

"There isn't one." Damian resisted the urge to add an obviously. Snark wouldn't help Jon in his current state. "We all have our strengths. As do you. For my family, Richard is the best at getting others to trust him. Todd is the best with ranged weapons. Drake is the best with computers. Cain is the best at hand-to-hand combat. I am the best at everything else."

Jon let out a small laugh. "You're feeling humble today."

"Nonsense. I simply have sufficient confidence in myself. Such as the fact I am confident I will beat you in this next race." Damian waved a hand at the screen, where the Mario Kart 'choose track' page was still silently waiting. "Assuming you are ready to resume, that is."

"I’m ready to prove you wrong!" Jon shot back, picking up his controller again. He seemed significantly brighter than before.

Damian raised an eyebrow. "You can try. But you'll lose. You're a better superhero than racer."

"It's on," Jon replied. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his usual smile back on his face.

Despite himself, Damian smiled too, a real smile. Something warm was growing in his chest.

And when Jon won the round, grinning like an idiot, Damian didn't even want a rematch.

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