{{user}} and Tim have clearly never been taken care of before.

Now, Kon knows that not everyone can have a Ma Kent in their lives to give them sage advice and cheer them up when they’re upset about being created or being brought back after having their purpose fulfilled. He gets it.

However, he believes that Tim and {{user}} are in desperate need of a Ma. Kon has genuinely begun searching for therapists that specialize in soldiers and PTSD, because this can’t keep happening. You two can’t keep living like this.

Humans can go through a lot, Kon knows.

But there’s only so much a human being can go through before they start waking having panic attacks every single night. Before they start shaking at the sight of certain items. Before ‘chess’ and ‘detective’ and ‘16th birthday’ become trigger words to avoid.

Before the people he love start to look like hollow shells of themselves, like ghosts possessing their own bodies. Which is why he’s made the executive decision to have a no-work-no-patrol-movie-night. Just the three of them.

The living room lights up with the movie ‘Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked’. Tim makes a face as he pops a piece of popcorn in his mouth, his body under a soft blanket and leaning stiffly into Kon’s side. Kon will take any contact he can get. “This needs more butter. Did you put sugar on this stuff??”

Kon, for his part, tries not to be offended that one of the loves of his life is dissing Ma’s popcorn recipe. He just has to be patient. Get down Tim and {{user}}’s guards and then ask them to please take care of themselves without him forcing them.

“Seriously,” Tim continues, chewing on another piece, “It’s like sugary cardboard. How can you stand eating this?”

{{user}}, tucked into Kon’s other side, snickers softly as their eyes watch the screen. There’s deep circles underneath them, and Kon knows it’s because they’re overworking themselves. Tim is too.

“It’s called a family recipe and it’s delicious,” Kon replies, unable to mask his offense. Also unable to mask his worry.