zeegoeshere

I started this last summer, after Kon got mind-controlled by Luthor and sent off to Smallville. It started off as a way to help me deal with shitty canon--I thought Kon sulking in Smallville while his friends were in danger was dumb, so I sent him to Boston instead. (It made sense at the time.) And... yeah. It's been *thoroughly* jossed since then, and I'm not gonna finish it, but I still like the idea of Kon as a barista and he and Cass as a team, so I'm putting it up here.


***

Kon really isn't a coffee kind of person. Back in his Hawaii days, he lived on Mountain Dew and Jolt, and there was never any coffee in the Kent house. (Occasionally there was caffeinated tea, but… no.) Kon always flew or ran to get himself awake before school, and that usually worked better than caffiene, anyway. Well-worked until he fell asleep in second period like he always did.

But there are weird little dark pretending-not-to-be-trendy coffee shops all the fuck over Boston, at least in the neighborhoods around his apartment. And it's either lie on the crappy mattress in his crappy apartment, staring at the ceiling as vivid memories of exploding Vic or breaking Tim's arm or hitting Cassie scroll over his vision, or hang out in coffee shops feeling self-conscious and hardly ever actually buying coffee. After he accidentally burned a hole in his ceiling, he went with the latter option.

He misses Metropolis. Boston is… well, it's a * city * so it's better than Smallville, but even when the sun is shining it's grey and depressing. There aren't even any colorful supervillains, not that Kon wants there to be.

His fourth day after running away - after everything -- he bleached his hair and cut it. It looks awful, but fashionably awful like every other guy with bleached hair and a haircut that's supposedly 'edgy' but actually just a bad haircut. He hates it, but it gives him enough anonyminity to make it not feel like stepping onto the street is an invitation for Luthor to come and mindwipe him again.

He still doesn't feel safe. The other night when he was walking home (he hasn't flown in weeks), he stopped a girl from being raped. The guy went down with one punch, but all Kon could think of was that Luthor could somehow *see* him, that he knew, that this was all the opportunity he needed to come and take Kon's own body away from him again. He didn't even stay to comfort the girl.

He's been here three and a half weeks now, and he's running out of comics to read while he nurses his coffee or mocha latte or whatever. He's even reading the really lame dramatizations of real things that happened to the Justice League, which just aggravate him because he's never mentioned and everyone knows that things didn't happen that way. He tries reading the news, but it seems like everything going on is either about Luthor or the Titans or the universe falling apart at the seams, all of which make him nauseous.

He tries reading books. He was never into that, really, because there were always better things to do - and besides, Cadmus downloaded all the major plot points of the big classics into his brain when he was 'born', so what was the point? He remembers seeing some geeky-but-maybe-kind-of-interesting-looking books on Tim's shelf when he sneaked into his room that one time, so he starts there. It's all right; Terry Pratchett is funny, but American Gods was just * weird *, and Kon thinks he's going to have nightmares now about vaginas that eat people. After that he sticks to Star Trek and Red Dwarf novelizations that he remembers Tim liking, because they're basically comic books with no pictures. Tragically all of the Wendy the Werewolf Slayer novelizations totally blow.

After a while he figures out that the barista at his favorite café is totally flirting with him. Which makes him feel fucking dumb, because she's really being obvious, but he just didn't notice. And once he does notice, he can't really bring himself to care. She's nice, and pretty hot, too, with hair died bright apple red and an eyebrow ring. But he can't even bring himself to smile back, and…

He wishes he could say it was because of Cassie, but it's not. He doesn't go back to that café.

On a random Friday he accidentally goes to a concert. He's sitting at a table in a café near Cambridge, and the next thing he knows some people are setting up guitars and drums and sound equipment and practicing really, really loudly. He wants to leave, but there's a crowd gathering and the lead singer keeps smiling at him and trying to catch his eye because he's sitting so close to the makeshift stage, so he just puts his book down and listens.

It's okay. It's more interesting to watch the band perform than to listen to them; they kind of suck live. They're called I Stole The Batmobile, which Kon can't decide whether to cringe or laugh at. They all have jaggedy, patchy haircuts and hair that's either dyed blonde or jet black; the lead singer has a hole in his jeans right over his crotch. And he winks at Kon, and Kon thinks he looks a little bit like Tim if Tim was a bad guitar player, and blushes.

Afterward the lead singer and the drummer come up to him and they sort of make small talk for a while. They like his haircut. They invite him out for drinks, but Kon declines. It's not like Luthor's going to find him amongs a bunch of drunk indie kids, but - but still. It's.

Kon doesn't want to think about it, and he rides back and forth on the T until his brain is filled with the sound of the tracks and that special subway smell and the feel of the cheap seats making his ass numb.

A month into his stay a job posting goes up at a coffee place near his apartment, and the manager of the place - Tanya - abruptly asks him if he wants the job before he's even finished ordering his drink for that day. “Everyone who's applied has been a complete fucking moron,” she says. Kon has no idea why she thinks * he* won't be a complete fucking moron, but he could use the money; the little he's managed to save from all those Kent allowances is pretty much gone, and his landlord is giving him the evil eye.

The job sucks. The customers - even the ones who Kon knows and who seemed cool before he had to serve them - are whiny and awful and the equipment is hard to use and working with all that food and coffee is just gross. On his first day he and Tanya are the only ones working, and they get swarmed around lunchtime. The customers get even more dickish than they were before, and while Kon is pretty good about not losing his cool to their faces, when he looks down he realizes that his grip is denting the countertop. After that, he relegates himself to dishes.

It gets easier, sort of. The insanely busy parts that make him feel like he's narrowly avoided death are balanced out by the insanely slow, boring parts that just make him want to die. So in a way, it's kind of like being a Titan. The comparison makes his chest hurt, so he tucks it away far back in his brain along with everything else from the past year.

Most of his coworkers are stuck up, but Tanya is pretty cool. She's a lesbian, she majors in women's studies at BU, and she always seems to be going through a traumatic breakup with one woman or another. She has funny stories about college and horses around with him during slow periods; sometimes she gives him weird compliments, like saying how good a listener he is for a man, or how it makes her happy that he's actively resisting the patriarchy, or something.

He doesn't watch TV much, or read any newspapers. You can smell the fear in the air, though; even the civilians know that something bad is coming. No one has seen Superman for weeks; the rumors are that Wonder Woman has turned into a supervillain. Kon hasn't liked her ever since she tossed him off the Tower roof, but he thinks that's a little harsh.

One night as he's walking back from a late shift, he sees some guys holding up a 7-11. The clerk -- she can't be more than 16 -- has tears streaming down her cheeks, and she's fumbling with the cash drawer. The biggest guy is jeering at her, waving the gun in her face, saying lewd, awful things.

Kon does it on automatic. The guy doesn't even see him before Kon has the gun out of his hand; the other two guys both swing at him and miss, and they all go down with one punch.

"Oh my god." The girl is still crying so hard she's hiccuping. "God, thank you. I don't know-- " She puts her hands over her face.

Kon sucks at this part. "Hey, it's okay," he says, trying to sound comforting and not just awkward. "Call the police, and um, your boss, maybe...? I'll tie these guys up."

Except that, crap, he doesn't have any zip-strips. So he just waits with the girl (her name is Cynthia) until the police show up, and manages to disappear before they start asking him questions.

When he gets back to his apartment, Kon throws up. It's fucking *Boston,* those bandits and the two-bit cops don't know anything about Luthor, Luthor won't -- can't --

He punches the wall. The whole thing is beyond fucking stupid and he's tired of it and tonight felt *good* and it's not like he could've just walked by and done *nothing.* He wants to say, Fuck Luthor, who *gives* a fuck but then he remembers what it felt like to blow Vic up, to *watch* himself blowing him up and not being able to do anything. Or what Tim's bones felt like, how fragile they were. Or Cassie's tear-stained face before he punched her into a tree. Or--

Saying to hell with it isn't an option. Not even close.

The next day he buys some black sweats, black sneakers, a black knit cap and some stretchy black material to fit over his face. It's the stupidest DIY superhero costume *ever,* made only slightly less dorky because Kon doesn't have to cut eyeholes into the face mask thanks to his ever-improving X-ray vision. It'll do the trick, and if any crooks laugh at him -- well, he's going to be punching them *anyway.*

Boston is pretty empty of heroes, which means that it's overriden with crime. Even the few second-class heroes it *did* have are all off fighting whatever is tearing the universe apart. It makes Kon think about Metropolis, and the shape it must be in without Superman or Supergirl or *anybody,* or San Francisco without the Titans, or-- but he can't go back to either of those places. Not yet.

It's not like there isn't plenty to do here, anyway. After two nights of 'patrol' he totally thinks he gets part of why the Bats are so screwed up. He'd fight colorful metallo monsters and talking apes over crack addicts who are willing to kill for it and rapists and dealers any day.

A week after he first dons his dorky costume, someone gets some poor quality pictures of him beating up some random criminals and sticks them in a newspaper. The reporter dubs him the Ski Mask Avenger, and Kon wants to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. And then he wonders if anyone working for Luthor reads the Boston Globe, and wants to die for a whole other reason.

But days pass and his scary bald father doesn't come to collect him, and he relaxes a little.

The next day, Batgirl walks into the cafe and orders an herbal tea. Tanya tries to flirt with her and Kon tries to scrape his jaw off the floor.

It's not just that she's *here,* in fucking *Boston,* in the fucking *cafe where he works,* although it is all of that, of course. She just looks so... normal. She's wearing a lavender t-shirt and a black, nondescript jacket and jeans that are a little loose and her hair is pulled up in a pony tail and it is blowing Kon's mind. He's seen her without the costume on that cruise, but she was in a *bikini* and then she was in an *evening gown.* This is...

She smiles at him like she isn't the first member of their community to see him since he ran away, like everything is just fine, and his brain breaks a little more.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he hisses under his breath when his motor functions return.

She laughs softly and pulls out a newspaper clipping: the grainy picture of him as the Ski Mask Avenger.

Kon pales. "Oh god. It's obvious that that's me? You could *tell?* You-"

Cass shakes her head. "Only me. I could see your..." she gestures at the picture and mimes a punching motion.

Body language. Right. Kon breathes. "Could anyone else tell that way?"

Cass shakes her head. "No. No one... bad."

She pauses, and raises an eyebrow at him. Kon realizes he's staring.

He grins. "Wow. It is really *fucking great* to see you again."

There isn't, technically, a rule against hugging on the job. Technically he should be serving the middle-aged couple next in line, but he don't think Tanya will mind if he lingers a bit.

Cass surprises him by hugging back *hard,* using enough strength to crush a normal human and burying her nose in his shoulder. He can feel how hard she's breathing.

She stays in the corner sipping her tea until he gets off his shift twenty minutes later. He hugs her again, just because he can, and sits down.

"Dude. What are you doing here? Did you come to save me from my horrible costume-making skills?"

She smirks. "Maybe." She tilts her head, giving him one of those piercing looks that always makes him wonder if he accidentally forgot to put some pants on or something.

"You are... by yourself, here. You have no one."

Kon ducks his head. "Yeah. That was kind of on purpose."

She frowns. "It's *wrong.*"

Kon shrugs. "I've done it before--*ow!*"

He's not sure what nerve she's pinching, but apparently it *really hurts* when you pinch that part of his arm in just that way. She glares at him.

"*Wrong.*"

He glares back. "It works, okay?"

She pinches him *again*, fucking *ow,* and just does it harder when he tries to yank his arm out of her grasp. "Does not. You look terrible."

Kon snorts, and she finally lets go. He rubs his arm. "Gee, thanks." He doesn't know what else to say, so he doesn't say anything; neither does she. They sit there not talking for a while, and Kon always *hates* it when conversations turn into this, but with Cass it feels natural. He doesn't feel the need to fill up the silence with words.

She finishes off her tea. "I am alone. Also," she says, staring into the cup. "Batman is... gone. Not fighting in Gotham. Robin is with his team. Nightwing is..." she frowns. "Don't know."

Kon winces. "I'm sorry. That must suck."

He can see her hesitate, pursing her lips and glancing up at him instead of her tea mug. "And -- Spoiler. *Robin.*"

Kon resists making a face. "What about her?"

Cass frowns at him again. "We were friends. Very..." She makes the squinty face that he's learned means she's looking for the right words. "We were *friends.*"

Oh. Fuck. Kon is an asshole. "Oh. Oh man, Cass, I'm sorry, I..." He cringes and stands up to hug her again. She snorts softly against his shoulder.

"I miss her," she says, and Kon thinks about death and Robins dying and what would've happened if he'd done more than break Tim's arm, and if he starts crying in the middle of the cafe he's going to die of embarrassment.

"Do you have a place to stay? Do you want to crash in my apartment?" he mutters into her jacket. She laughs softly and just nods.

***

When he models his super-dork costume for her, Cass *guffaws.* He's never been able to make her laugh like that before. He grins and strikes another goofy post.

"What's so funny? I mean, besides my obvious utter lameness."

She wipes tears from her eyes and points at his chest. "*My* first costume."

He snorts. "Seriously?"

She nods. "Different one now." She cocks her head and gives him that *look* again. That freaky mind-reading look. "I could make *you* one."

Kon bites his lip and fingers the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve. "Not that that wouldn't be cool, but... I need to be incognito, you know? I can't let Luthor know it's me."

Now she has that look where she's totally laughing at him, just silently. "He won't. Trust me."

She goes back to Gotham the next day, "for supplies." Which is just... damn. She's actually making him a costume. He's going to have to *wear* an actual costume again, as opposed to a ski mask.

He's not sure how he feels about that.

When Kon gets back from work the next day, she's set up a freaking *sowing machine* in his apartment.

"Dude. They teach you *sewing* at Bat-camp?"

She threads the needle through some tiny-ass hole in the machine without looking up at him. "Oracle."

"....a *robot* taught you how to sew?"

She throws a piece of fabric at his face.

*Someone* taught Cass to sew, or at least to magically conjure awesome costumes from the air; Kon's not sure of the difference. It's an all black body suit, with bright blue and red uneven stitching sort of outlining his body and criss-crossing over his arms. She's made him a sort of cowl/mask thing out of his lame-ass ski mask, with the same red and blue stitching over the eyes.

"It's different," she says carefully when he first tries it on. "From... everything."

Kon couldn't agree more. It doesn't have the S symbol and it feels strange, alien from any identity he's had before.

"I'll need a new codename or something," he says, eyeing himself in the mirror. The suit *does* make his ass look great. He wonders if that's too conspicuous.

Cass purses her lips, studying him. "You will think of one. In... time." She waves a hand.

"Eventually. Yeah." He smiles and runs a hand over his chest. "I like it."

They make a good team, which utterly fails to surprise Kon. He's a Super and she's a Bat, in all the ways that count, and it's not like being with Tim but it's close. Different, neither better nor worse. She reminds him a lot of Tim, and sometimes the way she looks at him...

He doesn't know if he reminds her of her dead Robin. He's never asked.

When they hear the news about Bludhaven, Kon's heart feels like it was squeezed, quashed to a pulp. He doesn't even notice the casualty rate at first, because all he can think is Tim Tim Tim Tim like a constant litany in his head. Cass has to remind him that Tim isn't there, that he's off with his Titans, which lets them both grieve for other reasons.

Kon doesn't know if the vague feelings of nausea and fear that have settled in the pit of his stomach will ever go away, or if they're just a part of him now, as permanent as his tactile telekinesis. He doesn't know what to do, and he doesn't think Cass does, either, but she at least can put on a brave face.

Neither of them really know what's going on. They're relying on civilian news, which they both know is only getting bits and pieces, nothing even close to the full truth. They could find out more, but that would mean leaving -- and it's clear to the both of them that they can't, not right now. Every other hero on the planet has left, abandoning the cities they protect to fight demons in the sky, in other galaxies. Kon remembers what Gotham looked like during No Man's Land, and that's what almost every city looks like now.

"We're not going to live through this, are we," he says to Cass one night, after they come back to the apartment covered in soot and smoke, after a failed attempt to save an entire block from a devastating fire. "I mean, none of us are. The whole world, it's--it's ending."

Cass purses her lips and doesn't say anything. She holds out her arms, though, pulling him in close and guiding his head to rest on her shoulder. She smells like fire and death just like him, but it's comforting all the same.

***

Writing Update:

The Compass That You Gave Me
Words Added: 2,202
Words Total: 12,257 (AHAHAHAHA oh god.)


Dear ZigZag Wireless (company providing my internet at the moment):

Fuck off, and die, and also fuck off. I have had to spend what probably amounts to, seriously, *hours* of the past two days struggling to get a motherfucking signal, and this is only a few weeks after my internet went away *completely* for a week. What the fucking fuck? Do you actually expect me to *pay* for this service?

No. Fucking. Love,
Zee