Archive of Our Own

1.

All Jason had wanted to do was run into the Cave and get the jacket he’d left there without being noticed.

Instead, he walked in on the weirdest fucking situation he’d ever seen in his life.

Damian Wayne, the goddamn demon brat, was letting Jonathan Kent… hug him?

Actually, Jason wasn’t sure if it was a hug.

Damian was standing over a table, files spread out on it. Jon was floating horizontally behind him, his arms wrapped around Damian’s middle and his chin resting on Damian’s shoulder. He was rambling about something, seemingly undeterred by the fact that Damian wasn’t responding.

What the actual fuck? Since when did Damian let anyone touch him at all? Let alone like this.

“Hey, brat, you know you’ve got a Kryptonian hanging off of you?”

Damian didn’t even turn around. Jon, however, jumped, shooting nearly a foot higher in the air. He pulled Damian closer to him when he did, lifting him off the ground slightly as well.

Jason couldn’t help but laugh. Didn’t the kid have super-hearing and all that other bullshit? How had he not heard him come in?

“Jon, stop it!” Damian hissed, slapping at Jon’s hands. “Put me down!”

“Sorry.” Jon put Damian back down on the ground, landing on his own feet next to him as well. “Hi, Jason.”

“Hey.”

Damian spun around, breaking Jon’s hold on him. “You have super-senses, how the hell did he manage to startle you?”

“I guess I got a little, uh, distracted.” Jon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his face was bright red.

“Distracted?” Damian scoffed. “What if he had been an intruder?”

“I was just trying to listen to what you were saying! You’re the one who always gets all pissy when you have to repeat yourself.”

“Are you incapable of multi-tasking?”

Jason would’ve been sorry for Jon, getting yelled at like this, except for the fact that Jon didn’t look all that upset about it. His eyes were wide and he was blushing- and not in an embarrassed way either. Hell, he was even floating again.

Was it possible that he and Damian were…

“One of these days,” Damian continued, still lecturing Jon. “Your inability to pay attention is going to end in disaster.”

“Come on, D, you’re just being dramatic now.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “I am trying to look out for your well-being.”

“Aw!” Jon cooed. “You care about my well-being!”

Jon threw his arms around Damian again, pulling him into a tight hug. Damian grumbled, but, shockingly, didn’t push Jon away.

They were totally together.

Fuck.

Jason owed Cass fifty bucks.

…

2.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“No, some of us are actually trying to finish our mission reports here.”

Kon, unhelpfully, elbowed him. “Come on, Tim, just look.”

Tim didn't look up from his computer. “Kon-”

“Just for a second.”

“Fine.”

Tim let Kon spin his chair around so that he was facing the mats where Damian and Jon were currently sparring. Tim watched as Jon ran at Damian, only for Damian to dodge with ease. He grabbed Jon’s arm as he flew past and used the momentum to spin him around, sending him crashing into the nearest wall.

“Why is Jon letting Damian throw him around like a rag doll?” Tim quirked an eyebrow up at Kon, who just laughed in response.

Really, Damian shouldn’t have been able to move Jon if Jon didn’t want him to. Which, of course, begged the question of why Jon would want him to.

“Probably the same reason I let you do it to me.”

Tim wrinkled his nose at the insinuation. “Ew, no, they’re kids.”

“Not really. Jon just turned nineteen, and Damian’s what? Seventeen?”

Okay, maybe Kon had a point. Even if it was a gross one to think about.

“Yeah, I guess he is.”

“How many relationships had you been in by the time you were seventeen?” Kon nudged Tim, an evil smile on his face.

Tim kicked his shin in return. “Shut up, it doesn’t mean I have to like whatever is happening here.”

Kon put on an exaggerated pout. “Is someone feeling protective over the demon brat?”

Tim was saved from having to answer (and from any further teasing, for now) by a yelp coming from the training mats. Jon was on the floor now with Damian straddling him and holding his wrists down, successfully pinning him. Jon’s face was so red that Tim almost felt bad for him. Having a crush on Damian Wayne could not be easy.

“Why are you going easy on me?” Damian demanded to know.

“I’m not!” Jon insisted. “I- I’m just feeling a little off today.”

“Oh, is that what you’re going to say the next time we have a mission? ‘Sorry, I’m feeling off today, so I’m not going to use my powers. Please don’t kill me’.”

In a second, Jon had flipped them so that he was on top of Damian. “I won’t have to worry about that because you’ll kill me with your nagging first.”

“No, I would use kryptonite.” Damian hissed. “Now get off of me so we can continue training.”

Jon leaned in closer. “I thought you didn’t want me to go easy on you?”

It was Damian’s turn to blush now, although it was considerably less noticeable. “Jonathan, I will get the kryptonite out right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Would you like to find out?”

“Come on.” Tim said to Kon, picking up his computer. “Let’s get out of here before whatever sort of weird foreplay this is gets even weirder.”

Kon grimaced. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

…

3.

They were screwed.

Dick wasn’t exaggerating. It was, unfortunately, an objective fact.

They had gotten some bad intel. An anonymous tip (one which Oracle would definitely have to look into later) that had been sent in about a new shipment of fear toxin led them right into a trap.

Luckily, it had only been Dick and Damian on patrol because everyone else was busy. That meant that there were plenty of people around who could respond to their emergency beacons and would hopefully be here soon.

Unluckily, Damian had never learned how to keep his mouth shut and was now getting the shit beat out of him because of it.

Yeah, totally screwed.

Dick strained against his handcuffs as Damian took yet another punch to the face. “Leave him alone!”

He pulled harder, but it was no use. He was handcuffed to a metal pole inside some dingy warehouse. The cuffs were military grade, not the type he could break or use lock picks on.

The man grabbed Damian roughly by the jaw, pulling him forward as much as his own restraints would allow. He was handcuffed to a pole, similarly to Dick. The asshole beating him up was holding him so tightly that Dick was worried Damian’s shoulders would dislocate from the strain.

The man pulled out a knife and brought it to Damian’s mouth. “Any last words before I cut out your tongue, smartass?”

Damian smiled wickedly. “Superboy.”

The goon barely had time to look confused before a blur of red and blue tackled him away from Damian.

Dick stared in shock as the blur untangled themselves from the man (who was now groaning pathetically on the floor) and stood up to reveal none other than Jonathan Kent. Obviously, Dick had heard Damian say his superhero name, but talk about perfect timing.

Jon’s eyes searched the room, before settling on Damian. He clearly took in the other boy’s battered state- a split lip, swollen nose, and angry red marks that were sure to bruise- if the little gasp and clench of his jaw were any indication.

Jon turned back towards the man, his eyes now glowing red. He grabbed him by the front of the shirt with one hand and hauled him off the ground, then used the other to punch him straight across the face. There was a cracking sound that Dick was sure meant Jon had broken the man’s jaw.

Then, Jon wound his fist back and hit him again, and again. Dick’s stomach lurched with the realization that Jon must’ve been pulling his punches so that he could hit the man more times, rather than breaking his entire face in one go.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Dick wanted to punch this asshole just as badly for hurting his little brother. He, however, did not possess the ability to knock a man’s jaw clean off his face with a singular hit.

“Superboy, that’s enough!” Dick ordered.

Jon didn’t listen, he didn’t even look like he’d heard Dick (although, obviously, he had). He just continued pummeling the man. This was not the happy-go-lucky, sunny Jon that Dick was used to. No, this Jon was much more reminiscent of the one who’d just recently escaped Ultraman’s clutches- so angry and scared and wiling to do whatever it took to ensure he was never separated from his loved ones again.

“Superboy.” Damian’s voice cut through the overwhelming sound of bones being broken.

Dick chanced a look over at him. Damian seemed completely unsurprised by Jon’s temper, and wasn’t that a scary thought. Dick didn’t think Jon would hurt Damian or anything, but the fact that he’d clearly lost his cool around Damian enough times for Damian to be used to it wasn’t exactly comforting.

Dick wondered if this was just how the kid was now, if his experience with Ultraman had caused irreparable damage, or if he was only this upset because Damian had gotten hurt. He hadn’t seemed all that angry until he noticed Damian’s injuries.

Jon let the man drop back down to the floor and rushed over to Damian. He fell to his knees in front of the other boy, throwing his arms around Damian’s neck and pulling him into a tight hug. Dick would’ve thought it was cute if not for the circumstances.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked. His face was pressed into Damian, but his voice still carried enough for Dick to hear. “You never call for me during missions, I was so scared that I was going to show up here and you’d be like on the brink of death or-”

“I am fine.” Damian cut off Jon’s rambling, sounding annoyed. Though, Dick didn’t fail to notice the slight smile on his face. “We just needed some backup and obviously you’d be here the fastest.”

Jon pulled away from the hug, his hands moving to ghost over Damian’s jaw and cheeks. “Your face, D.”

“It will heal.”

Jon sighed. “You know, you could’ve called for me sooner.”

“I had it handled.” Jon looked like he wanted to argue, but Damian didn’t give him a chance. “Now, would you get these handcuffs off sometime today?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

Jon went behind Damian and quickly broke the cuffs. He then came over to Dick and did the same thing, greeting him with a bright smile as though Dick hadn’t just watched him pummel a man half to death.

Dick wondered if he should say something to Damian. Maybe warn him to be more careful around Jon in the future. God forbid that temper get turned on him someday.

Dick turned towards Damian, only to catch him staring at Jon with a look of utter adoration. Or, at least, it seemed that way to Dick. To most people, it probably just looked like a slightly softer version of the grimace he usually wore.

Yeah, maybe Dick should rethink that conversation. He doubted Damian would listen.

…

4.

Over the years, Bruce had come home to quite a number of bizarre scenes.

This definitely made the top ten.

Damian was sleeping on top of Jonathan Kent.

Both boys were on the living room couch, Jon laying on his back while Damian had his face buried in the crook of the other boy’s neck. He was dozing peacefully as Jon tapped away on his phone.

Bruce’s first instinct was to start shouting, but, truthfully, they weren’t actually doing anything wrong. No wandering hands, no disheveled clothing, no bruised lips or necks. They were just… laying together.

Bruce cleared his throat, uncomfortably aware of the fact that he’d been staring. Jon jumped a bit at the noise and Bruce wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that he hadn’t noticed him sooner or concerned.

Jon smiled once he noticed it was just Bruce. “Hey, Mr. Wayne.”

“Jon.” Bruce greeted. “Is everything alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, ‘course.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “So Damian didn’t get knocked out or hit by a tranquilizer dart or anything like that?”

Jon laughed. “What? No. He’s just tired, he’s been staying up the past few nights working on a case.”

“And he chose to sleep on you rather than in his own bed?”

“Guess so.” Jon shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

God, no wonder Bruce had gone gray so young.

All the talking had made Damian stir slightly. Honestly, Bruce was surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. The boy could usually hear a pin drop in his sleep, yet another consequence of being raised in the League of Assassins.

“Jon?” Damian murmured, rubbing at his eyes blearily.

Jon ran a hand down Damian’s back. “Shhh, it’s alright, it’s just your dad.”

Damian turned to look for himself. “Father, did you need something?”

Bruce was quick to shake his head. It was not often that any of his children got an appropriate amount of rest. “No, no, go back to sleep.”

Damian dropped his head back down on Jon’s shoulder and closed his eyes once more. He looked peaceful in a way that Bruce rarely witnessed. He wasn’t aware that anyone could have that effect on his son, let alone Jonathan Kent.

Jon, meanwhile, was staring at Damian with the dopiest grin Bruce had ever seen. The kid looked like a damn lovesick puppy.

Bruce grimaced at the sight. Jon was nice and all, and Bruce didn’t think he’d ever intentionally hurt Damian, but he still felt a surge of protectiveness. Damian was his youngest son, his baby, after all.

Besides, he knew how teenage boys thought, even half-alien ones.

Yeah… he’d have to ban the two of them from having sleepovers for a little while.

…

5.

The older Clark got, the less he slept.

Over the years, he had gathered too many worries. For his friends, his family, his planet.

So, needless to say, he was already awake when he heard Jon screaming.

Clark was in his son’s room in an instant, immediately looking for any possible danger. Except there… wasn’t any.

Jon was alone, eyes shut tight as he writhed around on his bed. He was sweaty and worryingly pale.

“No, stop!” Jon shouted, still asleep. “Stop it!”

Jon was clearly having a nightmare, and a bad one, at that. They had been quite common after everything that had happened with Ultraman, but had mostly subsided in the past year or so. Clark had thought they were over, he should’ve known better.

Clark made his way over to the bed and shook Jon gently. “Buddy, wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

Jon’s eyes snapped open and locked in on Clark. However, instead of the relief Clark normally saw when Jon woke from a bad dream, there was only fear in it’s place.

“Get away from me!” Jon yelled as he tried to kick at Clark.

Clark held up his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just me, it’s dad.”

“No, you’re not!” Tears welled up in Jon’s eyes. “You might look like him, but my dad would never hurt me like this!”

Suddenly, a few things clicked into place. The first being that Jon thought his nightmare was real and still happening. The second was that he was convinced that Clark was Ultraman.

Being shot with a kryptonite bullet would’ve hurt less.

“Jon, take a breath, it is me.”

“No it’s not! You’re lying!”

Jon covered his eyes with his hands. He was close to hyperventilating now, continuously murmuring the word ‘liar’ over and over again.

Clark wished Lois was here. Maybe seeing her would convince Jon that Clark was telling the truth. Unfortunately, she was out of the country doing research for a piece she was writing. Clark would just have to handle this himself.

It was at that moment that Clark noticed the blood dripping down Jon’s fingers. Horrified, he realized that his son was clawing at his own face.

“Jon, stop, you're hurting yourself!”

Clark grabbed Jon’s wrists and tried to pull them back, but they wouldn’t budge. There was more blood now. Clark’s only option was to use his super-strength.

“Get off of me!” Jon screamed just as Clark finally managed to rip his hands away from his face.

Jon stared up at him. His eyes were glowing red. Before he could even think about moving out of the way, a wave of heat vision hit Clark straight in the chest, sending him flying across the room. He slammed into the wall and heard a deafening crack that definitely meant he’d broken it.

Of course, Clark wasn’t hurt. He was, however, quite disoriented. It took him a moment to pull himself back up to his feet, and, when he did, he found that Jon was no longer in his room and the window was open.
Damn it.

Clark rushed out the window as well. He had to find Jon. Who knew what damage he would cause in such an unstable state?

Luckily, it wasn’t difficult. Clark had had his son’s heartbeat memorized from the moment he was born. It was beating erratically right now, sure, but it was still his heartbeat.

Clark followed Jon through the skies, keeping a safe distance so as not be spotted. He could still see and hear Jon, even from this far away, he would know if anything happened.

Jon didn’t slow down until they were miles from home. More specifically, they were right over… Gotham? That was weird. Jon really only ever went to Gotham to visit Damian, but that couldn’t be what he wanted now, could it?

Apparently, it could be. Jon flew for a couple more miles before stopping above an apartment building. Sure enough, Damian Wayne was standing on the roof, fully decked out in his Robin gear and clearly in the middle of patrol.

Jon flew down to the rooftop and crashed straight into Damian with enough force to knock him down. Clark couldn’t help but wince, being full-body tackled by a Kryptonian (even a half-Kryptonian) had to hurt.

Clark continued using his super senses to be able to see and hear the boys while at a safe distance. As much as he wanted to go down there and comfort his son, he knew it would only make things worse.

Jon was laying completely on top of Damian, his arms wound tightly around the other boy’s shoulders and his face buried in his neck. Jon was crying hysterically, mumbling about Ultraman through his tears.

Clark’s heart ached for Jon, he held his breath as he watched Damian wrestle his son into a seated position. The kid was breathing heavily (likely from having the wind knocked out of him) and the annoyance on his face was clear even with the mask. Clark knew what was going happen next and he also knew that Jon’s reaction wasn’t going to be pretty.

See, Clark liked Damian, he had grown into a heroic young man over the past few years. However, he was still… well… Damian. Clark knew that the kid let Jon get away with more than most other people, but the way Jon was acting was a lot for the average person to deal with, let alone someone who threatened his own family members with dismemberment for so much as ruffling his hair.

Clark waited for the moment that Damian threw Jon off of himself, for him to start scolding Jon for being a ‘crybaby’ as he had so many times in the past, but that… didn’t happen.

Instead, Damian let Jon continue to cling to him. They were sitting up now, Jon in Damian’s lap with his arms still tightly around the other boy and his face still squished into the crook of Damian’s neck. He was no longer crying as heavily.

Damian, meanwhile, had one arm around Jon’s waist, balancing him, and the other carding through his hair. Clark could hear him whispering reassurances (some in Arabic), and Jon’s heartbeat slowed considerably as he listened to them. Suddenly, it was clear that the look on Damian’s face before hadn’t been annoyance, it had been concern.

As Clark watched this interaction, he was hit with the crushing realization that this definitely wasn’t the first time this had happened. How many times had his son entrusted his emotions to Damian Wayne?

After a few moments, Damian moved the hand in Jon’s hair to cup his cheek, wiping away a few stray tears as he did. “Jon, look at me, where are you?”

Jon obeyed, lifting his head to meet Damian’s eyes. “Gotham.”

“More specific.”

“Um, on the rooftop of some apartment building in Gotham?”

“And who are you with?”

“You, uh, Damian Wayne, my best friend.”

“Exactly.” Damian nodded. “You are with me, and so long as you are with me, I will not let anyone hurt you.”

“I don’t think even you have enough Kryptonite to defeat Ultraman.” Jon sniffed dejectedly.

“Jonathan.” Damian placed both hands on Jon’s cheeks now, staring at him with an intensity that made Clark want to look away. “If it meant keeping you safe, I would find a way.”

A small smile graced Jon’s face. “Even though you’re like a quarter of his height?”

“I will throw you off this roof, Corncob.”

Jon laughed and settled his head back down on Damian’s shoulder. Damian put his own arms around Jon’s waist once more. They seemed so content, something that was very rare with the lives they led.

“You can stop spying and come down here now.”

Of course Damian had noticed him.

Clark’s cheeks burned, he had literal super-senses and still wasn’t half as perceptive as any of the Bats, even the youngest one. As he floated down to the rooftop, Damian Wayne’s unamused expression greeted him.

“I assume you had something to do with this.” Damian said once Clark landed, gesturing at Jon.

“Dami, it’s alright. I told you, I just had a nightmare.”

Damian continued to glare at Clark. “Really? A nightmare gave you bruises on your wrists?”

The words felt like a slap to the face. Clark hadn’t realized he’d hurt Jon, but sure enough, there were angry purple bruises on his son in the shape of his hands.

“He was hurting himself, I was trying to get him to stop.” Clark explained.

Damian raised an eyebrow. “You actually thought the appropriate response to your son having a nightmare about being tortured was to restrain him?”

Geez, he really was Bruce’s son.

“Dami, please.” Jon interrupted. “It’s not his fault, he’s never seen it be this bad before.”

Damian still looked unconvinced, but he didn’t argue anymore. “Fine.”

Jon untangled himself from Damian and stood up. Slowly, hesitantly, he walked towards Clark. Rao, he hated the fact that his son was acting like this around him.

“Dad, I’m sorry.” Jon shifted on his feet. “I know you’re not him, but sometimes…”

“It’s alright.” Clark reached a hand out towards Jon, but quickly thought better of it and aborted the movement. “It- it’s been a long night, we can talk in the morning. Why don’t we just go home now?”

“Actually,” Jon looked back towards Damian, who had stood up as well and was still glaring at Clark. “Is it okay if I stay with Damian tonight? I, um, I’m not sure how well I’ll handle being at home after what just happened.”

Clark knew that it wasn’t being at home that worried Jon so much as being around him. He plastered on a smile, not wanting Jon to feel any worse than he was sure he already did.

“Of course. Come home whenever you’re ready.”

Clark wasn’t completely sure that it was the right choice. However, he did know that Jon would be safe with Damian, that he apparently felt safer with him than his own father.

Honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Damian had sworn to him years ago that he would never put Jon in harm’s way, and the Bats weren't ones to break their promises.

…

+1

Damian saw it happen.

He saw the moment the man came up behind Jon, he saw the syringe with an unnaturally green needle, and he saw him lunge.

Damian tried to shout, to warn Jon, but it was too late.

He also saw Jon’s eyes lock on his own as he was stuck with the needle, widening before rolling back in his head.

Damian moved across the alley with a speed he hadn’t known himself to possess. He punched the man as hard as he could (the moron hadn’t had enough common sense to run), effectively knocking him on his ass.

“What did you do to him?” Damian demanded to know. “What did you inject him with?”

The man just laughed. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Damian grabbed him by his collar, pulling him halfway off the ground. “Tell me what you did to Superboy!”

“I’m not sure he’ll be Superboy for much longer, not if my boss has anything to say about it.”

Damian’s blood ran cold.

It had been a normal patrol, just him and Jon. He should’ve known better than to rush into some random, isolated alleyway without surveying it first. If he’d been alone, he would have, but Jon had the unique ability to make Damian act very stupid.

Of course, the screams that Jon had ran off in search of had not been real. It had just been a ploy to get them (more accurately, Jon, it seemed) alone. Damian felt sick at the fact that it had worked, that he had fallen for something so obvious and now Jon was unconscious with a kryptonite syringe sticking out of his arm.

Damian drew back his fist to punch the man again when he heard a groaning noise behind him. He turned around, finding Jon blinking sluggishly and pushing himself up on to his elbows. Relief flooded through Damian, Jon was alright. He dropped the man back to the floor and rushed over.

Damian slowed as he got closer. Jon was standing up now, but something was off. His movements were oddly rigid and disjointed. He almost looked like a puppet being manipulated by someone very clumsy. Part of Damian wanted to write it off as disorientation, although another part of him wasn’t too sure.

“There you are, Robin.” Jon’s smile was sickly sweet, not the bright, genuine one that Damian usually found himself on the receiving end of.

Not to mention the fact that his eyes were black.

This was not his Jon.

Damian kept his face neutral. He had to be careful about this. Jon was liable to attack if he realized that Damian knew he was not himself, and that would be sure to end disastrously.

The best course of action would be to bring Jon back to the Bat Cave, where he could then figure out what was in his system and how to combat it. Damian just had to figure out how to get him there.

“Superboy? Are you alright?”

“Better than ever.” Jon was still smiling.

It was still wrong.

If needed, there was also kryptonite in a hidden, lead compartment in Damian’s utility belt. Not that he was all that willing to use it on Jon in the first place, however, it was available if the situation truly became dire.

“I think we should get you medical attention.” Damian explained, hoping Jon went for it. “We don’t know what was in that syringe.”

“Great idea!”

Without warning, Jon ran at him. Damian reached for his knives, but Jon was quicker. He wrapped his arms around Damian’s waist and shot off into the sky.

“Superboy, stop!” Damian shouted over the wind. “You shouldn’t use your powers, we don’t know if they were affected!”

It wasn’t a lie, not completely. However, if it could get Jon to land instead of flying them into space- which seemed to be his goal since they were only going upwards- then the reasoning wouldn’t matter much. It also wouldn’t matter if Damian died from lack of oxygen.

“Okey dokey!”

Jon let go and Damian found himself falling back down to Earth at an alarming speed. He fought the urge to panic, mentally going over any items in his utility belt that could help. Unfortunately, he came up short. His grappling hook was useless with no buildings around and he didn’t exactly have a parachute with him. Still, he kept trying to think of anything, anything at all, that could-

All of a sudden, Damian was back in Jon’s arms, floating rather than plummeting to his demise. Jon had caught him? That didn’t make any sense. What was the point of dropping him just to save him?
Damian looked up at Jon, and for a moment- just a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw his eyes flicker back to blue.

“You know what?” Jon seemed less confident when he spoke. “I don’t think I wanna fly anymore. Let’s see how fast we can make it to the ground!”

“Wait, no-”

Damian’s protests were cut off as Jon barreled back down towards Earth. Damian was still being held tightly to hit chest, and they were angled in such a way that ensured that he would be the one to break their fall.

In a fit of desperation, Damian hit his emergency beacon. None of his family members were close enough to get there in time, but someone would need to deal with Jon afterwards. Even if they would use kryptonite on him, which Damian had so desperately tried to avoid.

Damian could see the ground rising up to meet them. He tried to tuck his head as far down as he could. Maybe, if he could make himself smaller, the armor on his suit would absorb most of the impact. It was a Hail Mary if there ever was one.

In his effort to minimize any injuries, Damian also pushed his head into Jon’s chest. He pressed his ear right against Jon’s sternum, hearing the thump thump thump of his heart. He tried to let the rest of the world fade away, only focusing on it. If it gave him a bit of comfort, knowing that Jon’s heartbeat would be the last thing he heard, then that would be something that only he knew.

Damian closed his eyes and braced himself for impact as they crashed. He waited for the pain and then sudden nothingness that he knew to be associated with death. Except, it never came.

Damian did a mental check of himself, eyes still shut tight. He didn’t feel any pain, couldn’t pinpoint any injuries. It could’ve been shock, sure, except for the fact that he was certain he should be dead right now.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked around. Although, he was unsure what exactly he was searching for. Some sort of explanation, maybe, for how he had survived being used as a human crash pad?

He quickly found it in the form of Jonathan Kent laying beneath him. His arms were wrapped around Damian’s head, almost as if he was trying to shield him. He had shielded him, Damian realized. He must’ve flipped their positions at the last moment so that he took the brunt of the impact instead.

Jon stared up at Damian and, once again, his eyes flashed their rightful blue. Damian was sure of it this time.

“Damian?”

His Jon was fighting back.

Just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. Jon grabbed him by the throat and shoved him backwards on to the hard concrete below. There was a sharp pain in the back of his skull and Damian immediately felt dizzy, he was pretty sure that Jon had just cracked his head open.

Jon’s hands on his throat, meanwhile, were unforgiving. Damian fought past the nausea and pain, clawing at Jon’s hands and trying to push him away, but it was useless. He wouldn’t relent.

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Batman was screaming in the back of Damian’s mind, yelling at him to just use the kryptonite. Damian stubbornly refused to obey it. He could make excuses all he wanted, the truth was, he just couldn’t bring himself to hurt Jon. Not even if it meant his own life.

Damian knew that that was what it would come to. He was exhausted and injured and it was becoming increasingly hard to breathe.

Damian was going to die.

It was alright, honestly, it was. Damian had faced death many times before. He could think of much worse fates than Jonathan Kent being the last thing he saw on this Earthly plane.

“It is okay, I do not blame you for this.” Damian managed to wheeze out.

He should’ve stopped there, normally he would have, but he found himself wanting to say more. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to his brain or the guarantee of imminent death. Either way, Damian needed to say the words that had existed at the back of his mind for months now more than he needed to breathe.

Damian used the last of his strength to force the words past his lips. It was an honorable use of his last moments.

“Jon… thank you for being… my friend.” He raised one hand to cup Jon’s cheek. “You are so…very… beloved… to me.”

Damian let the darkness envelope him. The last thing he saw was Jonathan Kent’s bright, blue eyes.

…

Damian was mostly sure that he was dead.

Only mostly- because he didn’t recall the afterlife having quite so much arguing.

“No, I’m telling you, the fries at Bat Burger are shit if you don’t get them jokerized.”

“How could you, of all people, say that?”

“‘Cause it’s true!”

“You’re a heathen, an actual heathen, I can’t believe…”

Okay, so Damian probably wasn’t dead. Not unless he was in hell and his punishment was listening to his brothers have inane arguments for the rest of eternity.

“Shut up.” Damian croaked out. His voice was rougher than he thought it would be and his throat ached.

He immediately heard the sound of jostling and footsteps. There were multiple people calling his name, all clearly very close by.

Damian forced his eyes open. He was in a cot in the Cave’s medical bay, all of his family members hovering nearby. Dick and Bruce were the closest, one on each side of him.

There was only one person missing.

“Where’s Jon?”

Everyone’s looks of relief shifted to guilt. No one made eye contact with him. A million horrible thoughts raced through Damian’s mind. Was Jon still being controlled? Had he been injured? Was he…

Was he dead?

Finally, it was Tim who broke the silence. “He’s fine. He brought you back to the Cave and told us what happened. We were able to treat you and give him an antidote for the toxin he’d been injected with. It was specifically designed for him, to make him become violent towards anyone he cares about. We’re still investigating who made it.”

Damian’s heartbeat immediately slowed. Jon was alright, everything was okay. So why wasn’t he here?

“That still doesn’t answer my question. Where is he?”

More guilty looks.

“Have it your way then.” Damian sat up, ignoring the way his body ached with the movement. “I will just go find him myself.”

Bruce stepped forward. “Damian stop. He was here, I told him to leave.”

“You what?”

“He wanted to stay with you, but I didn’t feel that it was safe.” Bruce explained. “I made him leave.”

Anger flared hot in Damian’s gut. “You had no right!”

“He tried to kill you, Damian!”

“He was being mind-controlled!” The shouting made Damian’s already sore throat burst into pain. “And he fought it, he tried to stop himself from hurting me!”

“It wasn’t a risk I was willing to take and that is final!” Bruce was so loud that Damian was sure he had woken the bats.

Dick placed a gentle hand on Damian’s shoulder, which Damian immediately shrugged off. He didn’t want comfort from anyone here. They had all sat back and let Bruce shun Jon for something that wasn’t even his fault.

Bruce shook his head. “I’m sorry, Damian. He’s just too dangerous.”

…

Screw Bruce. Screw all of them.

Whatever he had said to Jon had clearly upset him because it had been an entire week and Damian still hadn’t heard from him. No visits, no phone calls, he wouldn’t even reply to Damian’s texts.

So, he had no choice but to go find Jon himself.

He was no longer confined to the med bay, however, he wasn’t quite cleared for patrols yet either. It had just made him doubly pissed off and ensured that pretty much everyone was avoiding him in fear of his bad mood.

In actuality, it was a good thing. It meant that no one would figure out that he had left. They would all assume that he had just spent the day locked in his room once more. The only real risk was someone realizing his Robin suit was missing, but Damian doubted anyone would notice until later when they all went to get suited up for their own patrols.

So, here he was, out at dusk, searching for Jon. Although, honestly, ‘searching’ was a strong word. Damian already knew all the places he liked to go when he was upset, it was just a matter of having to check each of them.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long for him to find Jon sulking on the same rooftop where they had spent so many nights hanging out when patrol was slow. He was lucky that Damian had been the one to spot him, he didn’t think his family would take kindly to Superboy hanging around Gotham. Especially not after… everything.

Damian swung up on to the rooftop, landing a few feet away from Jon. The other boy turned to look at him, but didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t know Superboy had started doing solo patrols in Gotham.”

Jon didn’t respond, not even to tell him to shut up. He looked tired, as though he hadn’t slept all week. His shoulders were hunched and his hands were shaking slightly.

“Jon.” Damian took a step forward.

Jon backed away. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well I wouldn’t be if you weren't ignoring me.” Damian huffed. “Besides, I have been cleared medically.”

“I meant, you shouldn’t be around me.”

Damian scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Jon hung his head. “I hurt you, Damian.”

“You were not in control of your actions, I do not blame you for it.”

Jon flinched, hard. “Damian-”

“Besides, you fought against it.”

“Not hard enough.”

“I am fine.” Damian insisted.

Jon was silent for a long moment, an odd look passing over his face. Damian almost thought that he was going to just fly off and leave him here.

“Why didn’t you use the kryptonite?”

“What?”

“It’s been bugging me all week.” Jon shook his head. “I know you carry kryptonite on you, and you always threaten to use it on me over the stupidest things, but you didn’t use it when I was trying to kill you. It doesn’t make sense.”

Damian took a deep breath. How could he possibly explain that the mere thought of hurting Jon had been unacceptable? Especially since Damian never hesitated to hurt anyone else.

“I did not feel it was necessary.”

“Not necessary?” Jon parroted, incredulous. “You are so damn selfish sometimes!”

Damian rolled his eyes. How dramatic. “Oh, yes, I am so selfish for not wanting to injure you.”

“I could’ve killed you- I almost did!” Jon shouted, his eyes flickering red. “Did you ever once think about how I’d feel if you died? How I’d feel if I had murdered you?”

Damian could’ve screamed. Didn’t Jon understand that Damian had just been trying to protect him?

“All I did was think about you!” Damian shouted back. “I was trying to figure out how to get you back to the Cave without hurting you. The kryptonite was supposed to be a last resort!”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Jon threw his arms out to either side. “It’s better for me to kill you than for you to possibly injure me with kryptonite?”

“I did not know how the kryptonite would interact with what was already in your system.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. It just wasn’t the actual reason why Damian had been so hesitant.

“Yeah, maybe, but you still knew it probably wouldn’t have killed me.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “I did not know that and I was not willing to risk it.”

“I’m the invulnerable one here, Damian, not you. I could’ve snapped your neck in a second!” Jon had gotten closer as they argued. He was getting in Damian’s face now, which was making it annoyingly hard for Damian to think.

“Yes, but you didn’t! Besides, even if you had, it would not have been the worst thing!”

Jon blinked at him. “What?”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that.

Damian took a shaky breath, there was no backtracking now. “I am just stating the facts here, it would’ve been much worse for you to die than me.”

Jon’s chin trembled. “Don’t say that!”

“Why not? It’s true!”

Damian didn’t want to have to explain it, didn’t want to be left so open and vulnerable. He supposed that he could always just leave, but he was certain that Jon would never speak to him again if he did, and that wasn’t an option.

“Jon, you are good.” He continued. “You are so kind and brave and strong and you never even have to think about it. You are quite literally a symbol of hope.”

Damian felt pressure building behind his eyes, tears threatening to fall. He wouldn’t let them. He was already so weak, laying out his emotions like this, he would not start crying as well.

“The world needs Superboy, it doesn’t need me.”

“Who cares about the world?” Jon retorted, eyes beginning to glow. “I need you!”

For the first time in his life, Damian was at a loss for words. What was Jon saying? He couldn’t mean that, not in the way Damian truly wanted him to, anyway.

All of a sudden, Jon was much closer to him, so close that Damian could see each individual freckle on his face. He was sure that Jon could hear the way his heart was pounding out of his chest.

“I need you.” Jon repeated, quieter this time. “Dami, please.”

Damian wasn’t sure who moved forward first. One second they were staring at each other, and the next, they were pressing their lips together. It was hesitant at first, a bit uncertain, but it was still the nicest thing Damian had ever felt.

Now, Damian would be lying if he said he’d never thought about Jon in this way, of course he had. It just wasn’t a thought he let himself indulge in. How could he? Jon was Jon and he was Damian, never in a million years had he thought that this would actually happen.

On the rare nights that he had let himself entertain such notions, though, he had to admit, he had imagined that it would be rougher. He’d figured that was inevitable, considering Jon’s super-strength.

However, Jon was being so gentle right now that Damian wouldn’t have thought he was even touching him if not for his own senses being carefully attuned to the world around him. His mouth was slow and sweet against Damian’s own. His hands flitted around Damian’s waist, just barely holding him there.

Damian wrapped his arms around Jon’s neck, pulling him closer and turning his head slightly to get a better angle. When he did, he felt wetness against his cheek. He pulled away slightly, only to see that Jon was fully crying now.

“What’s wrong?” Damian immediately asked. Had he done something? Had he misinterpreted this?

Jon shook his head. “Nothing, I- I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea. I just, I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“What if I get too… excited,” Jon’s face flushed a pretty pink at the implication of that word. “And lose control of my powers?”

Damian fought the urge to respond sarcastically. Jon was so stupid and sappy, but he was being like that for Damian. He couldn’t recall anyone else in his life ever being so careful with him.

“Jon.” Damian cupped Jon’s face in his hands, wiping away stray tears. “How many times have we fought together? Sparred with each other? You’ve never once hurt me.”

“Except that I-”

“That was an outlier.” Damian was quick to cut off any further self-pitying. “I have already told you that I do not hold it against you and you should not be holding it against yourself either.”

He took Jon’s hands and pressed them against his waist properly. “I’m not going to break, Jon.”

Damian leaned forward and kissed Jon again. It was firmer this time, more confident. Jon didn’t try to move his hands away from where Damian had placed them, he just held on tightly.

“Damian.” Jon whispered, pulling away slightly. “You can’t leave me. You have to promise you- you won’t run off and get yourself killed doing something reckless.”

“Can you promise me the same thing?”

Jon was silent, gaze shifting to glare down at the floor. They both knew he couldn’t promise that, and neither could Damian, not with the lives they led.

“However,” Damian continued. “I can tell you that I do not plan on leaving you, and if there were to be a scenario where I was forced to do so, I would fight with everything I had to come back to you.”

Jon gaped at him, clearly surprised by the sudden intensity of Damian’s words. Damian didn’t mind, he knew it was a lot. That didn’t change the fact that he’d meant every word of it.

“Me too.” Jon finally managed to squeak out. “I’d do anything for you, Dami.”

Damian swore he could feel his heart fluttering. He kissed Jon again, and again, and again. He was a bit disappointed when Jon finally pulled away.

“Wait, can we- can we just go back to what you said before? Because you’re so wrong.”

“I’m wrong?” Damian questioned.

“Yes, you are.” Jon stood firm, despite Damian’s glare. “The world needs Robin just as much as it needs Superboy.”

“Robin is replaceable.”

“But you aren’t.”

Damian looked down at the floor, not wanting Jon to see the emotions he was struggling to keep at bay. Jon, however, was having none of it. He put his fingers under Damian’s chin and forced him to meet his gaze.

“Dames, your family and I, we would all be devastated if something were to happen to you.” Jon continued. “And I don’t want to hear anything about how you don’t deserve our love or whatever other nonsense your brain is telling you. You’re amazing. Despite everything you’ve been through, you chose to be a hero, to be kind, even when it was hard. Actually, especially when it was hard. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Damian sucked in a breath, it was rare for him to hear such praise. He didn’t know what to do, except to kiss Jon once more. He put his all into it, trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words at the moment.

Jon laughed against his mouth. “You know what this means?”

“What?”

“It means that you’re stuck with me.” Jon’s hands moved down to Damian’s hips. “Forever.”

Damian groaned, breaking away to rest his head against Jon’s collarbone. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

“Now, can we please get off this rooftop before your family sees us? I think they might actually kill me this time.”