@reddrakebird:
If there was one thing Conner Kent could put his mind to - it was sulking. If there was a world record for the number of days spent wallowing in self-pity, Kon was fairly certain he could win it outright out of sheer stubbornness. During the disaster in Metropolis, Kon had spent the entire day rescuing people from the destruction of his own rage manifested. Finally, Kal had placed his hand on his back and told him to go home. But where was home? Kon didn't know anymore. He was starting to doubt everything all over again. Hurt tugged at his heartstrings like a grappling claw from an arcade machine. Humiliation crawled up the back of his throat. Stupid boy. He spent the next several days on the moon, wanting to isolate himself from everything and everyone, lost in self-deprecating thoughts. But there it was safe to kick at the dust, pull off his shades and just yell; eyes heating up as he shot heat-vision far off into space. Screaming where nobody could hear you. It was ugly. It was lonely. But most of all it was cathartic. Memories replayed in his head; those blue saddened eyes haunting him 384,400 km away. Eventually, he had to go back to the farm. Ma would worry about him. Ma worried about everyone. And sooner or later, Krypto would track him down and then he'd have to deal with talking to Kal about his feelings. Hard pass. Kon eventually headed down to the Kent farm, spending lunch with Ma reassuring her that he'd be fine - just on a mission with his friends. It was a white lie, and one he wasn't sure she entirely bought but she didn't probe further and he appreciated that. Eventually, he got out his phone to check on Bart. That's when the number of missed calls and messages hit him; a perfect twenty. How very like Tim. His stomach wavered as he clicked on the notification, scrolling up to read from the top. At first his eyes rolled, breath hardened as Tim asked if he was okay, then a few messages later if he wanted to talk. But the more he scrolled, the more he felt his chest tighten until eventually he crumbled and messaged the other man a simple, short text back. He busied himself helping out the farm with iits chores the rest of that afternoon before heading inside to grab a shower in he early evening. Taking the time to wash the grime off his skin, Kon got out (this time with a towel wrapped around his waist), heading to Kal's old room, which had temporarily become his when the Kents unofficially adopted him. He pulled out a fresh costume and grabbed his jacket, fixing his hair in the mirror, before doing up his boots and belt and sticking his shades securely onto his face. He got to the studio in Bludhaven deliberately a minute late just to keep Tim sweating. Hovering outside Timothy's window, Kon tapped a rare and gentle knock on the glass as he floated in the air outside, waiting for permission to come in. In his other hand, he held a small box of glazed doughnuts, picked up on the way there.
He waited for Timothy to open it, before passing him the box and slipping inside, careful not to bang his head on the window frame.
"Hey." He mumbled awkwardly; no hint of anger or malice left in his voice. He'd already exhausted that harshly into space. His face saddened at the visible darkened circles underneath the smaller man's eyes and the sunken in cheeks beneath them. "Long week, no sleep huh?"
