#like oof

It isn't lost on him that, only minutes ago, Bernard was baring his heart to Kon – maybe even offering his heart – and the very first thing he's going to do with it is destroy it. An hour ago, Kon wouldn't have believed that he was worthy of Bernard's heart, would have traded almost anything for one chance to hold him without guilt.

It takes barely any telekinetic effort to bring the muscle to a standstill, but a fresh tear rolls down his cheek for every electrical pulse against his TTK, as it tries in vain to beat.

At first, it seems like Bernard isn't even affected by it. Then he takes a sudden, deep breath that seems to take him by surprise. Kon knows it's an involuntary act, his brain not yet understanding why it's stopped getting fresh oxygen.

"Oh, that feels odd," Bernard comments lightly, turning a soft, appreciative smile on him. "There's no pain though – you aren't hurting me."

No, Kon thinks helplessly, just killing you.

"Just like that, Kon," he says, still offering reassurance to his murderer. "We're almost done."

He's calm, but Kon can feel the loosening of his muscles as the seconds pass, feels Bernard's body growing weak before he so much as sways.

Without thinking, he braces Bernard up with TTK, and nearly sobs when he relaxes into his invisible embrace, as though his touch is still safe. He won't let Bernard collapse. He owes him at least that much dignity.

Those green eyes aren't tracking anymore, their gaze drifting off to one side as the oxygen deprivation in his brain steals his vision.

"Hey– make sure that—" His voice is getting weaker, his words interrupted by hungry, instinctive draws of breath that won't save him, but the affectionate smile doesn't waver. "—pretty face is the– the first thing I see– when I get back– yeah?"

"Yeah." Kon can't help the wretched strung-out sound of his own words. He wishes he could sound stronger, be stronger for Bernard right now, but all of his strength is going into stopping his TTK from dragging Bernard out of the circle to start CPR. "I can– I'll be there."

"See you– soon– Superbo..."

It's hard to recognize just how much life and movement there is in a body until it's snuffed out.

The faint electrical pulses of a heart trying to beat echo once, twice more, and then everything about the body with his TTK field just… stops. There's no more breathing, no more twitch in muscle fibers or tension in the ligaments.

When his body goes slack, the reassuring smile Kon's been holding onto for strength slides off his face, and bright green eyes that trapped him from the first time he saw them are already vacant and dull.

There's no strength left for the body to support its own weight, the weight that Kon held in his arms so recently he can remember the shape of his face in his hands. His TTK catches all of it, lowering him gently to the floor, trying to arrange his limbs into some kind of dignity. He doesn't move the head or close the eyes, either to punish himself or to hold on to Bernard just a bit longer.

For a moment, Kon can't hear anything but the melodic splash of his tears hitting the floor.

So Tim reasons like this: Bruce is dad-shaped, when he's not grieving. So it's okay if he hurts Tim while he's grieving, because he'll love him later. His sixteenth birthday was just a test to make sure Tim can stay safe. It was love.

When Jason breaks into the Tower, Tim doesn't think he's mad at him for stealing his job. He isn't really listening, he's thinking You're my brother? Nice to meet you. He's thinking You love through pain? I can take pain.

When Damian tries to kill him, Tim thinks he loves like Jason, and sure, Jason gave him injuries that still hurt sometimes, and Damian prefers to make him fall which has terrified him since he watched the Grayson's fall. But it's okay, it's love. He knows it's love, because they're family.

And then Bruce 'dies' and Tim finds a pattern, and he tells Dick. The brother who loved in a way that's... softer. A way that wasn't scary or painful. And Dick doesn't believe him.

But that's love, right?

Because they're family, so this disbelief must be some type of love, way of caring, connection.

And then Damian comes out as Robin, and Tim finally listens when he's called an interloper. A thief. A charity case.

And Dick wants him to be Nightwing to Dick's Batman, when years ago he told Tim Nightwing would never belong to Batman.

Disbelief isn't love, it's part of something else.

So Tim goes away, and he rescues Bruce, and Dick catches him as he falls out a WE window. And the family is mending, so they want Tim back. And Tim accepts because there's no disbelief. So the love must be back.

But Jason and Damian stop hurting him physically. And Bruce doesn't test him. And Dick barely even asks him questions now, as if stopping opportunIties to disbelieve (he's actually just overcompensating by believing literally everything Tim says, including 15-energy-drinks-by-11-am Tim).

And Tim doesn't understand, because they're family. And his family doesn't love him like this.