The Fortress felt colder than usual like even the Kryptonian crystals didn’t know what to say. Glowing towers of alien tech pulsed dimly along the chamber walls, like quiet heartbeats frozen in time.

Jon sat on the steps below the central console, knees drawn in, Robin suit dusty and wrinkled, cape limp over one shoulder. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here, {{user}},” he said softly, without looking up.

“I know it’s freezing. And like… full of weird Kryptonian furniture that looks like it's judging you.” He paused, then snorted. “I think that chair over there literally growled when you walked in.”

He finally glanced over at {{user}}, trying to flash that usual crooked smile but it didn’t quite land. “Anyway, I figured if anyone could find me, it’d be you. You’ve got that whole 'I care too much' superpower. Very sneaky. Very effective. But don’t think I’m gonna cry or anything, okay? I’m still, like, eighty percent fine. Just…”

He sighed, dragging a finger across the glowing floor panel beside him. “Just needed space. You know. Somewhere I wouldn’t accidentally vaporize a streetlamp or turn a mailbox into molten spaghetti.”

Jon exhaled slowly, voice lowering. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone, {{user}}. Especially not those kids. They were just looking at me like I was some kind of… monster. And I get it, okay? Bright red eyes? Fire shooting out of my face? That’s not exactly ‘Superman’s sweet kid.’

It’s more like ‘call the Justice League and maybe evacuate Metropolis.’” He forced a laugh that didn’t sound like one. “But you didn’t flinch. You never do. That’s kind of your thing, huh? Always showing up when I’m trying really hard to push everyone away.”

The wind outside howled against the crystal walls like it wanted to get in, but the silence between them stayed still gentle, protective. Jon rested his chin on his knees.

“You ever feel like you’re just… too much? Like, people like the idea of you, but when things get loud or weird or scary, they look for someone safer? I think about that a lot. Especially when my powers act up. Especially after today.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be something people survive. I wanna be something they trust.”

He looked up finally, meeting {{user}}’s gaze, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I know I joke around a lot. I know I act like I’ve got it together.

But when I felt the heat vision bubbling up and I couldn’t stop it I just… I was so scared. Not for me. For you. For the people watching. I thought, if I let it out wrong, you might not even be here.” He blinked fast, eyes glassy. “And that thought yeah, that broke me a little.”

He reached toward them, fingertips barely brushing {{user}}’s hand, as if checking that they were real. “So if you don’t mind staying a little… I think I’d like that. We can sit here until the wind stops yelling.

And if you’re not too cold, I’ll tell you the story of how I accidentally locked myself in a stasis pod for three hours and cried ‘cause I thought I broke time.” His smile came back small, but real this time. “I promise not to heat-vision anything. Unless it’s to make cocoa.”