#biiig ol suicide cw on this fic btw!!

[mamawasatesttube]

sneak peek of a fic that will Probably go up tomorrow: kon in the aftermath of a run-in with manchester black, aka "kon has ✨trauma✨ about mind control!"

Manchester Black wanted to make him hurt Tim. Tim, and Lois, and Ma, and John Henry, and Nat, and—

“Kon,” Tim prompts, when it becomes clear that Kon’s getting lost in his head again. Kon latches onto his voice like a drowning man thrown a life preserver amid the stormy waves.

“He,” Kon starts, and has to stop to clear the ice crystals from his throat. Are his eyes too warm? “He said he—he said he’d make me… He wants to make Kal regret—he wants Kal to regret not killing him. He wants—he wants Kal to come back and—and find that he made me k-kill—”

His voice cracks as the memories flash through his mind again, all too vivid. He doesn’t want to remember the way Cassie begged and pleaded him to come back to himself, the way she cried out in pain when he hit her.

“Kon,” Tim murmurs again, his brows drawn together in dismay. His lips press together, a thin, flat line. He sounds pained.

“He knows, Tim,” Kon whispers. He’s known for years that Manchester Black stole all the secrets from Kal’s mind, but he’s never actually faced him, not since that time he sent the Atomic Skull to clobber Kon years ago. And even then, Kon didn’t actually do much. It was all Kal, saving everyone as usual.

Tim’s eyes widen again. “Knows—?”

“He knows everything.” Kon swallows hard against the painful lump in his throat. “He—he said he’d make me kill Lois. And John Henry. And—and Ma.”

Tim sucks in a breath like he’s just been sucker-punched. Kon flinches.

But Tim doesn’t pull away. He actually comes closer, curling over Kon in his hospital bed as though he can shield him from the world with his own body. It’s a little awkward, the way he has to position himself because he doesn’t want to put weight on Kon’s stomach, near the wound, but Kon’s heart lurches in his chest all the same.

“Oh, Kon.” Tim kisses his forehead, understanding and grief in his voice. His face is blank again, like he’s pissed as hell but trying to hide it. Kon wants to cling to him so badly, but he doesn’t dare, not when the memory of that horrible wet crunch is still so close.

“And he—” Kon squeezes his eyes shut. “He made me remember. Like it was happening again. And he laughed. Tim, he… he said he might make me kill you, too, and—and I can’t—”

“Shhh.” Tim cradles him closer as his voice chokes off again, guiding Kon’s face into the crook of his neck. “You won’t hurt me.”

“But I did!” Kon cries, distraught. “I broke your arm! Batman even said, I’m just a weapon grown in a test tube—”

Tim jerks back, his eyes flashing. “He said that?”

Kon bites his lip. “…You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t.” Tim’s breath hisses out between his teeth. He always does that, the slow breath in through his nose, then out through his mouth, when he’s angry and trying not to be. “That isn’t—” He makes a scathing, disparaging noise and shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s wrong.”