Tim just, so sad that he's beyond crying at this point.
Because see, he loves Kon. Misses him so fiercely that it's like he's lost an actual limb.
And watching this slow deterioration is worse than any kind of torment: and the thing is? Tim's selfish. he gets that: he knows this about himself the same as he knew Dick Grayson was Robin, the same as he knew his mother and father didn’t love him, or that the sky was only blue because of refracted light particles or--.
It’s just...he wants Kon back but... not at the expense of his memories, his laughter. his stupid sense of humor, or the way the corner of his mouth would lift up just fucking so when Tim did something exceptionally stupid and Kon was debating the pros and cons of teasing him.
This person? This inexact replica? He's Kon but only in all the ways that he isn't and it's almost worse. Watching him fall apart like this because at least his first death Tim didn't witness.
Not firsthand.
Come in too late to a battle Tim would have been useless in anyway to clutch the body of a boy he loved so desperately that he'd spiraled into madness trying to bring him back.
And now?
Now Tim will be even more directly responsible for killing him and it shatters something beneath his sternum. Like he's swallowed broken glass and garbled acid all at once.
Gentle trace of calloused fingers across the cut of cheekbone Tim could recreate at his most sleep deprived, avoids the cupids bow of a mouth he’s only ever dreamt of kissing. A gentle caress around Kon's eyes, soft pads to the feathering lines of skin that shouldn't even be there.
Not if Tim had done this right. Not if Kon were really here.
How do you even kill a super? He's got kryptonite wrapped in lead tucked in one hand. A cylinder of it as narrow as a hyperbaric needle. A fucking bic pen ink cartridge is comparable in size.
And Tim? Gets to experience the visceral sensation of holding Kon all over again as he stops breathing and the light leaves his eyes.
