The 13 "you're safe, I promise" with Lois and Kon.... 👀
Kon can't breathe.
Well—that's fine. He's Kryptonian. He doesn't need to breathe, anyway. And besides, he can breathe. Kinda. He just can't do it very well, but that's fine. He's fine. It's fine. He doesn't really need to breathe. It's fine.
Boiling water splashes over the rim of the mug all over his hand; it doesn't really hurt, but he still hisses and jerks the kettle away on impulse. Shit. He's supposed to be making a cup of tea, not spilling hot water all over the kitchen—
"Conner?"
Fuck.
"Oh, hi there, Lois!" Act natural! Act natural! Is leaning on the counter and crossing his arms acting too natural? Is there such a thing as acting too natural? "Didn't, uh, see you there! What brings you to this fine establishment? ...Kitchen? ...Room? At this hour of night?"
Lois, standing in the doorway, raises an eyebrow. "You have superhearing."
Kon snorts. The flutter of anxiety in his chest swells. "Well, that doesn't mean I always use it. C'mon, you know I'm dumb as a rock, Lo."
"Right. And I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed."
Lois steps into the kitchen properly. Kon watches, horrified, as her eyes fall to his hand and the mug and all the spilt water; she's going to know something is wrong, but—nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong. There's nothing to know. But she's going to know anyway.
The worst part is, since it's Lois, she'll know exactly what's up even if he cleans it all up with superspeed. The sudden movement will catch her eye. The subtle changes in the environment. She knows what it looks like.
"Conner," Lois says, and Kon knows the jig is up. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing!" Kon nudges the mug away from the edge of the counter. Steaming water sloshes over the side onto his hand again; Lois winces, but Kon just wipes it on his shirt, not caring. "I just, uh... you know. Nothing. I'm chill. Cooler than ice cold. You know."
Lois gives him a look. Kon resists the urge to bury his face in his hands.
...His hands. They're shaking.
"Hey."
Lois, apparently, notices that too, because she steps closer, and then she's holding his hands in both of hers, her thumbs rubbing gently over his knuckles. Her hands are so much smaller than his, so delicate, and yet... it's kind of nice.
"It's okay, squirt," she says, her voice gentler. "Talk to me. Something's clearly eating you. Everything alright?"
Kon looks away, at the kettle sitting on the stovetop, and feels shame twist in his gut. "I... yeah, everything's fine. Just... you know. Nightmare, that's all."
Lois's face softens even further. It's not an expression Kon is really used to seeing on her; everything about her is usually sharp, sharp, sharp. But she's nothing but kind as she squeezes his hands. "Oh, kiddo. Wanna talk about it?"
Kon laughs against the tightness in his chest. "I mean, you know, it was nothing special, just—you remember that whole thing where I died once, so... yeah! What else is there to say?"
He tries to laugh again, but the memory of the dust and smoke clogs his chest, and it dies in his throat. Fuck. Everything still feels shaky and unsteady and—
Lois pulls him into her arms.
She's a full head shorter than him, and her frame is much more slight, and there's no way she should logically be able to offer him nearly as much solace as she is, and for a heartbeat Kon is completely, utterly frozen in her embrace—
And then she rubs his back with a firm hand and murmurs, "You're safe, kiddo. I promise."
—and time begins to move again.
Kon squeezes his eyes shut and slowly, slowly sinks against her, his hands coming up to rest tentatively against her back. Her heartbeat is loud, steady, and slow in his ears, and the rush of blood through her veins is a steady white noise to drown out his memories.
He takes a breath.
"That's it," Lois encourages, and rubs his back again. "You're okay. You're okay."
Kon lowers his head to tuck his face into her hair. He should feel ashamed, and he knows he will later, but right now, the comfort is overwhelming enough to banish all those thoughts from his mind, and he just... stays.
"Thanks, Lois," he mumbles, finally, several seconds later, when he can bring himself to withdraw.
Lois pats his shoulder, smiling. "Hey, don't sweat it. Anytime. After all," she says, "What else is family for?"
Then she turns to add milk and sugar to his tea, just the way he likes it, and he thinks he can breathe a little easier after all.
