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Contrary to popular belief, when Conner Kent is having a panic attack, there is no minimum safe distance. No one – and he means it, no one, not even you, Cassie – should get close enough that it could hurt them. Also contrary to popular belief, he will be just fine without help.
This includes the other members of Young Justice, whether they like it or not.
Besides, what's a little interdimensional trauma for a Superboy? He is so totally cool with being written out of existence, it's a real cherry on top to all the other issues he's still processing.
He’s got this, guys, seriously.
/////
Except, Kon so totally does not have it.
As a bonafide member of the hero community, not to mention a guy who’s been lost in space, lost in the multiverse, died and come back to life, been experimented on, had a fair share of shady team-ups, been mind controlled, been used to hurt his friends, been erased from existence, been stuck in the future, etc, etc… Kon has had his fair share of nightmares. Most of his sleep paralysis demons are literally things he’s fought and defeated (or who defeated him, thanks Superboy-Prime), and generally, he’s pretty good at recognizing reality from dreams once he wakes.
The issue is that, as it turns out, when reality has warped around you so many times, it starts to get a little bit harder to make that call.
The stupid thing is dying is supposed to be literally the most traumatic thing a guy can do – and his nightmare wasn’t even about that this time. None of his friends even died, either! Instead, his nightmare is all about reality shifting around him, over and over again, like so many grains of sand. Warping until his friends are unrecognizable to him, and he’s just as alien to them as they are to him. Until they can look him in the eyes and say, “Wow, a new Super? What’s your name, dude? Do you have one, this time?”
And yeah, Kon doesn’t need a dream interpreter to understand where that’s coming from, thanks.
The point is, aside from his friends and Ma and Pa, basically no one actually remembers him. And even his friends still have all their memories from before Kon weaseled his way back into this timeline. They all remember a world without Kon, where he never existed at all, and that world seemed just fine without him. And, sorry, Kon doesn’t mean to be selfish, but that’s fucking terrifying.
This is worse, though.
When his friends arrived on Gemworld, they already more or less knew him, or at least knew of him. Tim and Cassie and Bart, anyways.
But the others… it took them a lot longer. Cissie didn’t remember him at all, and man, had that one stung.
The dream ends with Kon becoming completely intangible – invisible, untouchable, and unable to speak. And no, does he not want to think about where that little ditty is coming from.
He reaches out for his friends as they walk away, and his hand ghosts completely through Tim’s Robin cape.
He slips through the floor next, incorporeal as a ghost, and it's not until his stomach drops from the fall that he wakes.
/////
When he wakes, his TTK is locked down tighter than he’s used in years. It's a thick, suffocating blanket around him, clinging to his sheets, the air, his sweat, anything touching him – and anything touching what he's touching. It spreads, and spreads quickly. It also feels like a muscle cramp, except in his brain – and he can’t even move his hands to massage the ache. He's paralyzed from fear. Superboy, too weak to move. God help him. It helps, in a small, sick way, though. TTK is tactile in nature – duh, tactile telekinesis – and it grounds him to the world around him. It proves that he’s real enough to interact with his environment, which, after that nightmare, helps.
The issue comes when he can’t turn it off.
It scares him, and he doesn’t want it to be this strong, this far-reaching – but instead of it shrinking back into him, like it’s supposed to, he feels it continue to spread out. Seeking out the entire layout the YJHQ. Something, anything, to ground him and tell him what era he’s in, where he’s at, who he’s with, how he got here, if he’s really here or if it’s another simulation or another reality reset or-
It’s the Happy Harbor Rhode Island HQ. The original.
The trouble is, Kon remembers the mountain headquarters in Happy Harbor, Rhode Island being destroyed. But, he muddily remembers, in this dimension, it apparently never was, so it was the easiest thing in the world to turn it into a proper headquarters, complete with four bedrooms and two guest rooms, a very comfortable rec area, and lots of training space.
…Kon kind of wishes they were in the one in ruins, though, because it feels like it’s pulling him right out of this reality. Which isn’t great, because his TTK only digs in tighter. Tighter, harder, and shakier – until the entire apartment vibrates. All because of him. All because of a stupid nightmare.
Though their apartment is pretty sturdy, and built to withstand actual supervillain attacks, it’s probably not quipped for this kind of strain. Kon hasn’t exerted this much TTK in ages, but he can’t seem to figure out how to turn it off right now. But because it’s so much, it’s shaky, barely holding its shape, yet as an immovable force, it’s liable to do some real damage against their apartment.
He’s not sure exactly how far his TTK field is reaching, but if he could wager a guess, it’s basically all of the top floor.
His TTK stops reaching, suddenly, before he can dip lower, into other floors. Some tiny part of him thinks his TTK is trying to track down another person, to prove he’s not alone here. But he’s so, so fucking grateful it stops before it actually touches anyone. Kon can’t think of anything more terrifying than being paralyzed by TTK, especially when Kon’s so out of control right now.
His teammates are there, though, he thinks. Realizes, fuzzily, that it’s game night.
That he went upstairs because he had a headache. Or something – either way, he distanced himself from his friends earlier tonight, and went to sleep. Fat lot of good that did him.
But he’s lucky – so, so lucky – that his teammates aren’t on the top floor with him. He doesn’t want to think about what unstable TTK could do to them.
Except, not thinking about it makes him think harder about it, and now all he’s picturing is what could happen if he doesn’t get control of himself right fucking now. The apartment shakes more as he struggles to keep the field from expanding even further. He’s struggling against it, so why isn’t it retreating? Why isn’t his TTK working?
This isn’t what they told him at the Fortress of Solitude. They told him he might one day lose his powers – poof, gone, just like that, no warning whatsoever – not that he’d lose control of them. His heart-rate picks up, harder than ever. His breathing is shallow – which is funny, since Kryptonians don’t need to breathe much. He wonders if he’s imitating humanity or if this is an au naturale panic attack.
His x-ray vision is going haywire, too, which is just peachy. It exposes everything except what lays inside a few lead-lined areas, and his superhearing is picking up every creak and groan of the HQ breaking under his grip.
Among other things. His X-Ray gravitates to bones, and he sees a few sets of them, in their proper shape (alive, moving) on the ground floor.
“-adding reinforcements to the walls next time, he’s definitely gotten stronger,” Tim says, and Kon both wants to laugh and cry from finally, finally hearing another living soul. And one of his best friends, at that. Because of course Tim is talking about this and strategizing, when would he not? Kon would be embarrassed, but he can’t, because if Tim is talking it means he’s okay, it means that Kon’s TTK hasn’t reached him.
Cassie elbows him, which Kon can see clearly, because he can see them with his x-ray vision, which is so, so not good for them to be exposed to it this often. But god. God, is he relieved that they’re moving freely. “That’s your focus right now? Architecture?”
“It’ll be Kon’s focus, if he’s worried about bringing the apartment down on us.”
“I’d survive, this base isn’t that heavy.” Cassie looks up though, as if calculating it. For a second, Kon thinks she can almost see him; she’s looking straight where he’d be, if she could see through walls. For an instant he thinks of his dream, of his friends not even seeing him. The base shakes again. “Oof. I’ll have a backup plan, but it really wouldn’t hurt that badly for this to come down on me. You used pretty light materials. Sturdy – but light. It’d be nothing to climb out from.”
“And I’d get out of here way before it blows,” Bart agrees. “Kon doesn’t have anything to worry about with me.”
“Fine. Then he’d be worried about bringing it down on me,” Tim says, and Kon can just hear the eye-roll in his voice. “But he doesn’t need to, because I have two metas right next to me that would get me out before it could collapse. So there’s no reason to worry about that. We’d be fine if it collapsed. It wouldn't matter if anything happened, because I have contingencies anyways, but I couldn't be safer with both Cassie and Bart with me.”
Something in Kon’s chest releases, just a little. Right, he thinks. Tim’s got two metas with him. Two metas that could protect him.
The base shakes a little less, steadying into vibrations not much worse than an average earthquake.
“Uh, sure thing, dude. We sure are standing next to you,” Bart says. “But feel free to keep monologuing.”
Cassie suddenly looks up again. “Oh!”
“What?” Bart asks. For a moment, he sounds confused, maybe weirded out. But then he looks up too, and his voice is bright as anything when he chimes in next. “Ohhhh, Tim, you sly fox. I get it! Kon, you listening, buddy? Whatever’s going on, as soon as it’s over, you better be ready for the biggest hug in the world.”
Kon almost, almost laughs through the panic. He appreciates Tim's subtlety, but it's nice to know Bart cares.
“Get in line,” Cassie says, only barely able to mask her worry, but Kon hears it anyway. He’s good like that. “He’s invulnerable, only someone with super strength can get in there and really hug him.”
“What, like a bear hug?” Bart asks.
“Yes, like a bear hug. You’re not getting out of it this time, Kon,” Cassie says, sounding a little more genuinely cheerful this time. She crosses her arms, shifting her weight to stand more confidently. “Get hugged, idiot.”
Tim scoffs. “Please. Anyone can bear-hug him if he lets down his TTK. His vulnerability is good, but you can get past defenses and give him a pretty good squeeze if you know how.”
“It kind of hurts hugging supers if you do it wrong, though.”
“That’s why you do it right,” Cassie says. “Honestly. Tim just said there’s a method to it.”
“Besides, Kon’s half Kryptonian,” Tim agrees, “You won’t get hurt just by hugging him too hard. He might not feel it much if you don’t know how to do it right, but as long as you’re not punching him or something that'd backfire your force back onto you, there’s no risk.”
“Fine, sure, but it must be like a baby trying to hug you with all its strength. Or like, a teeny tiny little lizard,” Bart says. “All your strength is like – and no offense, Tim, because I see those gains and I know you can definitely lift more than me, and I see you sort-of-flexing right now, you have nothing to prove, dude – whatever you can lift, it’s nothing compared to how much of a squeeze Kon could take.”
“Which is why I’m bear-hugging him, and you two are normal-hugging him,” Cassie says. “And that’s an order.”
“You literally can’t control how hard I hug Kon,” Tim says. “That’s none of your business and frankly I’m offended you think I’d ever normal-hug a super. God, Cassie.”
Their voices start to blend together, to Kon. The riffing is so normal, so average, everyday banter for Young Justice, that Kon lets it just wash over him. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing coming a little easier. His friends are fine. Annoying each other like their lives depend on it, but that's always been their modus operandi.
“Don’t come crying to me when you pull a muscle," Cassie continues, and Kon almost laughs, "I did warn you.”
“Not to be a hater but yeah, don’t strain yourself. Last thing we need tonight is an actual injury.”
“Guys, seriously? You think I don’t know how to avoid pulling a muscle?”
“You know how, but the odds of you trying to like, push through anyways – you get weird when you’re competitive, Tim. No offense. Like – super weird. Especially when you’re trying to do stuff for the people you love-”
“I’m not going to pull a muscle hugging Kon!”
“Guys, I think it worked,” Cassie says suddenly. She sounds relieved – and for a second, Kon doesn’t know why.
Until he realizes the walls have stopped shaking, and the door is finally unsealed. His TTK is no longer freaking out and forming a barrier around the entire first floor. His teammates are free to move. And aside from a headache pounding in the back of Kon’s skull, his TTK in his control. If anything, it’s a little weaker than usual. He’ll take it if it means his friends are free.
“There we go. HQ – release lockdown mode, override S-B-T-T-K-3-X.”
“That’s the actual worst code imaginable,” Bart interrupts. “What’s 1 and 2?”
“Doesn’t matter, this one is over without an issue.”
“You forgot 0, Tim always includes a zero option,” Cassie stage whispers. “I bet zero is where we actually did have to get Tim out of here. Because he plans for the worst even when we clearly don’t need it, since Kon wouldn’t ever hurt us. Even accidentally.”
They’re definitely still talking so Kon can hear and won’t feel alone, he thinks, a little more rationally now that there’s not a fog of panic. Now that the TTK isn't wound so tightly around him that his brain feels like it's getting pinched. He can breathe and move, and while he's slow about getting to the door, he knows his friends are on their way. God, he loves them. He feels like he's run a marathon by the time he actually turns the doorknob.
Bart is already on the other side of the door, because of course he is.
Kon puts his hands up to say it’s okay, that everything’s fine now, no need to worry. He doesn’t get to say a single word before Bart’s pulled him into as tight a hug as that scrawny body can handle. Kon stares down at him for a moment, too surprised to do much else.
A little too afraid to hurt him to hug him back just yet.
Bart doesn’t seem to mind. “Doing better?”
“You came without knowing for sure?”
“Yup,” Bart says. “You heard us, right? Tim says you hear even better when you’re having a panic attack, is that true? Because otherwise Tim and Cassie and I are going to have some embarrassing stories for no reason-”
“I heard you,” Kon says.
“Oh, good. So you know we love you.”
Kon almost chokes. He’s still not quite hugging back, still not entirely sure if he can avoid accidentally hurting Bart. “I’m just,” he manages, swallowing hard, “Glad you guys got downstairs okay. I worried it’d go further. That you guys were already stuck, and I was– with how much the TTK was shaking, you could have all been-”
“All of us could have been what?”
Kon’s head snaps up to look at Tim, who’s just now walking in with Cassie.
“Bart, that’s a really pathetic excuse for a bear hug,” Cassie says. At Kon, she smiles – the grim sort of smile. Glad to see him, and hoping that things are better than they look. “Hey. I’m glad you’re back with us. Now can I cash in for a real hug?”
She opens her arms, and Kon nods, oh so slightly. He’s still not hugging Bart back, but… Cassie – she can take it. She hugs him about as hard as she can without it being a chokehold, and Kon squeezes her right back.
“Your grip sucks,” Cassie says. “You should get some rest and give me a real hug tomorrow.”
Kon just laughs because he knows it’s not true, and that he still needs to be careful tonight, but he’s grateful nonetheless. Bart shifts to hug Kon from behind, winding his short arms around Kon’s middle. He wraps all the way around, but it can’t be the most comfortable since Bart’s so tiny.
Kon finally risks it. He reaches for Bart’s hair, gently – so, so gently – ruffling it in appreciation.
“You broke through it on your own,” Tim says, nodding approvingly from a distance. “That’s great. I had a backup plan if it continued much longer, but the fact that you could do it alone-”
“I wouldn’t call that alone,” Kon says, finally risking an arm around Bart's shoulders, who leans in happily. “You guys were kinda loud.”
Tim smiles, lopsided. It always looked so intimidating with the Robin mask, once upon a time. Now that Kon can see Tim’s eyes, it’s more disarming than rogueish. “Good,” he says simply. “And don’t worry about it stretching too far. I’ve tested your TTK. It recognizes organic material. It takes concerted effort to interact with anything primarily made of organic carbon, as well as a few inorganic compounds that are out of the norm.”
Three pairs of eyes turn to Tim.
“What I mean is, the building is specially made to resist your TTK if it puts anyone else in danger. It tracks what rooms we’re in only far enough to give off a signature that renders it – well, not immune to TTK, but much more difficult for you to get in. I’ll teach everyone the override code in case there’s an emergency, but-”
“Tim,” Bart says. “We get it, you're always looking out for us and Kon has literally nothing to worry about. Can you just join the group hug already?”
“If he doesn't want to it’s okay-” Kon starts.
“Look how sad he is,” Bart says, eyes and face solemn and wistful. “Look at him. He’ll die without a group hug.”
Tim’s brows shoot up. “Maybe don’t mention dying right now.”
“It wasn’t- that wasn’t what it was about,” Kon says, but he’s not actually sure anyone’s listening, because Bart is already speeding along.
“He’s SO sad, guys. His face is like a kicked puppy, we can’t just leave him like this.”
“Bart, you can’t even see his face from that angle, and we’re literally holding him in a group hug right now,” Cassie says. But she gives Kon another squeeze, and Kon closes his eyes, resting his cheek on her shoulder. He meets Tim’s gaze, who still has not yet joined the hug.
“Yeah, but Tim hasn’t,” Bart says. “Well?”
‘This okay?’ Tim mouths, as though there aren’t two other sets of eyes on him right now.
Kon smiles despite himself. Nods, because there’s a lump in his throat all of a sudden.
“Well?” Cassie says cheerfully. “Come on, Tim. We’re holding Kon hostage ‘til he’s better.”
It takes zero convincing. Tim sandwiches himself on one of Kon’s sides, and after some slight reluctance – and maneuvering with Cassie – Tim finally gets enfolded under one of Kon’s arms. Bart is quick to slip under the other, and then it’s up to Cassie to round up the whole Young Justice sandwich, squishing Bart and Tim (gently!) in her arms.
Kon lets them hold him for a few minutes. And the remnants of the knot in his chest finally, finally releases.
“Thanks, guys,” he finally says, shaking his head in disbelief. “For everything.”
“We came back for you,” Tim reminds him, detective that he is. “And we'll do it again in a heartbeat if you disappear again. Maybe we didn’t all know about you at first– but. Now that we do, we’re here to stay. Don’t forget that.”
“We care,” Cassie says. “Of course we’re going to check up on you.”
“I literally re-wrote time for you,” Bart says, punching his shoulder. “You can’t get rid of us that easily.”
Kon closes his eyes. He doesn’t need TTK to get a hold on reality this time. It’s not the dimension he came from, and he knows that his friends’ memories of him might still be fuzzy. But he’s here. And real. And the world around him isn’t going to fall through any time soon.
He takes a breath, counts to five, and his best friends are still in his arms when he opens his eyes.
“I love you guys,” he finally says. “You guys better remember that part, too.”