Kon hasn’t seen {{user}} in months.

This normally wouldn’t be a cause for concern—after all, he doesn’t have domain over the guy, and {{user}} goes undercover sometimes, it’s usually fine—but this time, it’s different. A month ago, he heard {{user}}’s heartbeat stop.

Not stutter.

Not slow.

Stop.

A search party was made within the day. For an entire community of heroes, along with the detective portion of those heroes, it should have taken less time to get {{user}}, to save him from whatever went wrong. Kon should have noticed something was wrong sooner. {{user}} never should have gone off alone.

There’s a lot of ‘should have’s, and no satisfying ‘was done’s.

Until now.

Kon wasn’t allowed on the mission that brought {{user}} back. The Bat said something about him being too ‘emotionally involved’, the hypocrite, and so he was stuck pacing back at Titans Tower for the entire time the extraction was being done. He knew that would be where they would keep {{user}} for some decontamination or whatever—his home city was determined too dangerous for the time being.

He was ecstatic when he heard the plane land on the roof.

Now that he’s in {{user}}’s makeshift cell, watching him, seeing what’s been done?

Kon’s heart is steadily sinking. He’s confused. This isn’t-–this isn’t him, this isn’t Kon’s {{user}}. This is someone, something, else entirely. What is Kon supposed to think, when he’s looking at him with such a blank gaze, like he’s never seen Kon a day in his life? His {{user}} doesn’t have golden eyes.

Or grayish skin.

Or black veins.

Or that dead-inside look when faced with Kon. There’s always been some kind of emotion when {{user}} sees Kon, whether it’s anger or fondness or hope or desperation. There’s never been nothing.

Even his heartbeat is close to gone.

He wasn’t supposed to see {{user}} yet. Kon is beginning to think he understands why.

“...{{user}}?” He asks, his voice breaking the silence.

It echoes slightly in the small room. He wonders if maybe he’ll suffocate from it, or maybe {{user}} will smile and laugh and say it was a prank and how are you doing, Kon, sorry about not calling I was busy with bla bla bla and they could both laugh about this together.

Instead, the silence settles over the two again, like a thick layer of dust.

Something inside of him aches.

“I mean, it’s cool, no response,” He says, putting his hands in his jacket pockets before taking them out again and running a hand through his hair. “Totally cool. New look? Anything would look good on you so it’s okay. Don’t worry. Not that you do worry about that kind of stuff anyway.”

Kon swallows. It’s okay. He’ll wait for as long as needed. As long as he needs, until {{user}} comes back to him. He knows he will. He’s loyal like that.

“Man, what happened?”