Chapter Text
Superboy has many things, now. It’s no longer a shock when someone calls something ‘his’. He no longer has to pause and recalibrate his brain every time someone does him an unexpected kindness.
He has a room in Mount Justice, the Young Justice headquarters. He has friends. A bed, with blankets and pillows and a gigantic octopus plushie that Wonder Girl won him when they went to a fair together. He’s got a communicator, too, and books, and comics, and shows and movies, and a TV set up in his room so he’ll never be bored.
And a name. And a name for most of his friends: Cassie, Bart, Tim.
He’s Kon-El. It didn’t take long for that to happen, now that Superman is back from the dead and was troubled to find that he had never been given a real name before. It’s the best day of his life, maybe – tied with Young Justice kidnapping him and destroying the last of Luthor’s restrictions on Kon. Under no uncertain terms is Lex Luthor to come back for Kon – double-unlikely, now that Superman is alive and very interested in keeping Superboy out of Lex’s hands.
Not just because he could be a weapon of mass destruction, either. Superman was also pretty troubled by how Lex had treated Kon. Even aside from the whole “brainwashing and constant control” thing. Apparently Superman was pretty concerned that Kon hadn’t been able to eat actual food, limited to vitamins and condensed protein. He seemed pretty insistent that someday, he’d get Kon a “pie” from “Ma”.
He is not the only one who seems preoccupied with keeping Kon fed and healthy. The rest of Young Justice makes it their business to keep the fridge stocked, snacks on-hand, and they’re always introducing Kon to new foods. He doesn’t think he’s had the same meal twice since being freed. He’d be open to having most of it again, but he’s not all that picky. Still, a small part of him never wants to try those very first foods again – he’s worried it won’t be as good as it was the first time.
He does like snacks, though.
…Which is why, among Kon’s growing list of possessions, one of the first was a mini-fridge.
It’s not necessary. Bart didn’t actually need to get it for him. But it’s one of the most thoughtful (?) things he’s ever been given.
When asked why, Bart shrugged and said that he didn’t always like it when his teammates knew just how much he needed to eat to avoid his powers eating away at his body. Said that his team didn’t always need to know how much or how little he ate on any given day because as long as he’s healthy, it’s only his business. It resonates with Kon, because he can feel everyone looking over his shoulders some days. Paying attention because they’re worried and kind and not (exclusively) because they’re nosy – but it still feels like being controlled when everyone’s poking their nose into his business.
So it’s nice. Being able to store a handful of snacks that he can choose not to eat or not, that no one needs to know anything about.
Mostly, he doesn’t eat them. Or, not quickly – he pokes at them more when they’re getting closer to their expiration date. But they’re nice to have in an emergency. And double-nice to know they’re just an arm’s reach away from him.
–He has missions now, too.
Ones he has a lot more control over. He chooses to go on almost all of them, but Robin always asks if something is too much for him – and he’s allowed to stay home if it is, with no penalty. They especially ask when Young Justice takes on LexCorp robots. Kon still usually says yes, but it’s nice to be asked.
Kon eventually gets used to the endless training; the sparring and strategy and simulations.
Robin helps him a lot.
They spar frequently. Kon thinks Robin only wins so much because Kon tends to lose power pretty quickly when not in direct sunlight, and even then, he has to hold back his TTK or risk stopping Robin’s heart accidentally. But over time, Kon wins more and more often, and learns how to use his powers in a fight without risk of real harm.
Kon thinks he’s making his friends pretty proud. And, as time goes on, he thinks he’s a genuinely fun addition to their team.
He worried a little, at first. Banter in fights was one thing – but whenever they had him alone after a fight, they were always so concerned rather than just friendly. It helps, Kon thinks, because whatever they’re worried about seems to be resolving itself just fine.
–
Unlike the rest of his team, Kon gets regular check-ups. Not at Star Labs, which volunteered, but at the Fortress of Solitude, with Superman.
Kon still has to squeeze his eyes shut and pretend he’s doing anything else when blood has to be drawn, but at least he never has to be injected with anything. He is, understandably, extremely shy of needles.
Mostly, Superman has always been focused on scanning his blood for appropriate nutrition levels and halogloben levels – something that tracks the amount of solar radiation being safely stored in the blood.
That, and Kon always has to be measured and weighed and, annoyingly, pinched.
It does give him deja vu, every once in a while – he remembers this from before he was free. Lex and his techs always seemed to prefer lower numbers, but the first time Kal took his measurements, it only worried him.
“Did Lex ever tell you why he was so concerned with keeping you so… small?” Superman had asked.
Kon had shrugged, still giddy with receiving his new name. “Something about fearing that I’d have a human metabolism.”
Superman’s brows had knitted. “Did he say why he thought that was a bad thing?”
“No clue.” Kon hadn’t really cared why, to be honest – all he really cared about was that he was his own person now, and Superman wanted him around. “Hey – When are we gonna be done with this? I wanna see the rest of the Fortress.”
Now, Kon jiggles his knee idly while the blood drains into the vial. He looks anywhere but at it, and kind of wishes his daydreams could get a little further away than this same place four months ago.
“Almost done,” Clark says – and wasn’t that a development, Superman having a name, too. “Nice suit, by the way.”
Kon glances down, surprised at the compliment, and grateful for the distraction. “What, this old thing? The team helped me make it. You like it?”
“It suits you. And I like that you picked it yourself. The old one doesn’t seem like it was your style anymore.”
Kon smiles. He looks down, genuinely pleased, but rubs the back of his head – a quirk he thinks he picked up from Robin. “Figured that with an actual personality I might want to pick my own clothes, too.”
“Do you have enough clothes for when you’re out of costume?” Clark asks – and painlessly removes the vial from his arm. Kon lets out a deep sigh, relieved to have it finished. “If not, I’m sure Robin can get some funding.”
“The others keep giving me stuff they think I like.”
“Sure,” Clark says, and smiles at him – “But it’s okay to pick your own stuff, too. I know they’re enthusiastic about helping you adjust to the real world, but you’re not obligated to wear or keep all of it just because they give it to you.”
Kon decides to think about it. Instead of answering though, he looks over at Clark, where he’s already scanning the sample. “Any good news?”
“You’ve been doing a good job of staying out in the sun without overdoing it,” Clark says. “Just stay on track. Don’t give into the temptation to chase the sunrise after it sets, your body can’t process that much without making you feel sick.”
“Chase the sunrise-?”
“I got hurt a few years ago and ended up staying in the sun almost nonstop for days by following the sun. It did the job, but it actually damaged some of my blood cells. Haloglobin can only stretch so far so quickly.”
Kon nods slowly. “Anything else?”
“No, all your levels look good. Still recovering – there’s minor damage that I’m not sure can be reversed over time, but I think with everything else in order, you’ll be okay.”
“So… permanent damage?” Kon frowns a little. “Like what?”
Clark bites the inside of his cheek. “Nothing you really need to worry about.”
“Okay, sure, but isn’t it my body?”
Clark sighs. “Of course it is,” he agrees. Then, deciding not to fight it, he brings over the tablet he’s reading the scans from. “You have both human and Kryptonian DNA. The Kryptonian side is responding fairly well, since you were never deprived of light.”
“Sure,” Kon says slowly. “So this is something with the human side?”
“I’m going to tell you a few things, and ask if it relates to you, and I want you to answer me honestly,” Clark says, resting a hand on Kon’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze. “I wanted to wait until today to make sure that you had time to really, really recover. And now that your weight has nearly reached a healthy level, and your nutrition is about as good as we can get it-”
“Just say it.”
“Humans in growth and development stages – like you – who are deprived of proper nutrition or don’t receive enough calories tend, obviously, to be much smaller than standard. I’m 6’3” and Lex is 6’2”. When I was your age, I was almost at my adult height, already 5’11”... And your current height is well under that.”
So that’s what all the measuring was for. Kon crosses his arms over his chest, feeling small. “Okay, so I’m kind of short. I could probably make it up.”
“Unfortunately that’s usually not how it works,” Clark says delicately. “You’ve grown a little, which is a good sign – but not much. You’re probably going to be three to five inches shorter than me. Which is still normal height for a human – but not particularly tall.”
“I guess. Sure.” What is there to say to that, anyways? Thank you?
“Lex did give you a decent amount of calcium, so your bones aren’t brittle. That’s a good thing – most of the most essential nutrients, you received.”
“So he wasn’t as big of a dick as he could’ve been. I know. Robin ran the numbers on a lot of this, you know.”
Clark smiles wryly. “You might’ve mentioned earlier. I could’ve compared notes.”
Kon, despite everything, still isn’t sure how he feels about people comparing notes about him. Clark, fortunately, seems to sense this, and gives his shoulder another squeeze.
“We care. And I for one don’t want you to have to keep suffering for how Lex treated you forever. I want you to make sure you know all your options. Okay? I’m no doctor, but Kelex is pretty good at this stuff, and helping me figure out the best advice for you. Even if you’re part human.”
“I know.” Kon tucks his knees up to his chest, feeling small. Maybe that was the intention, he thinks. For Kon to always feel small and powerless despite all his powers.
“Being deprived of calories can affect cognitive function and decision making. Long term.” Clark doesn’t let go of his shoulder. “You seem to be doing pretty well – but if you ever feel like your head is in a fog, or you get headaches more than the average person, or you feel overwhelmed by decisions – it’s probably not your fault. It’s probably because of this.”
“Oh.”
Clark makes a small noise of sympathy, and moves his hand to rub up and down Kon’s back. Kon allows himself to unfurl from how he’s tucked his knees into his chest, and Clark pulls him in for a hug. It’s stupidly comforting. His massive arms, his huge shoulders – Superman was built for this. He was always going to be the best hugger on the planet. And despite Kon’s slowly building teen rebellion, he can’t help but feel at least a little reassured.
Kon wonders if he’ll ever be that good at hugs. He’ll never be that tall, but…
“Guess I’ll never be as big as you, either,” Kon says against Clark’s shoulder. “Ugh.”
Clark pats him on the back. “Probably not,” he admits. “It’s possible, maybe, but it’d take a lot more effort for you. And I’d hate for you to focus on your body that much, after all this. It’s the one thing I’m especially grateful for – that Lex never…”
“Never what?”
Clark hesitates. He seems to realize he’s said to much, but now Kon’s curious. He pulls further away, leaning back against the backrest.
“Come on, what? Just tell me, I’m the one stuck with all this.”
“Lex has a bit of a complex about his body,” Clark finally says. “And mine. I suppose he might have projected a bit. Tried to ensure that you would look the way he wanted you to.”
Look?
Kon furrows his brows, well and truly confused. “What do you mean?”
“Certain people are deeply focused on appearances,” Clark hedges. “And have decided that some things look better than others.”
“Well,” Kon thinks. “I mean, some things do look better than others.”
“I’m not explaining this right. Batman’s going to have my head for broaching this so clumsily,” Clark mutters to himself. He puts a hand over his mouth, index finger tapping as he thinks. “When it comes to people’s appearances, that’s a pretty terrible mindset. Especially with how overly specific some people – like Lex – can get, especially if they fixate on it. Some people will do anything to change their appearance to better match common beauty standards.”
“...Oh. I know that part,” Kon finally says, interrupting Clark, who looks like he’s struggling. “I found out about plastic surgery a few weeks ago,” Kon says. “We were doing something in Hollywood. A plastic surgery clinic caught on fire and I asked Cassie what it was for, since it wasn’t like, a real hospital. She got into a whole lecture about feminism and beauty standards and how sad Diana gets about women outside of Themyscira. And how there’s not like, necessarily anything wrong with plastic surgery, but some people get addicted to it and get dozens of procedures when they could benefit more from therapy, and that it’s dangerous and most of the time it preys on women’s insecurities.”
Clark’s shoulders visibly sag. “Oh. Thank goodness.”
Kon tilts his head at him. “So… Lex was like, big on plastic surgery, or…?”
“Something like that,” Clark says. “He’s certainly had a few procedures. But mostly, he was obsessed with the idea of meeting perfection. But human bodies aren’t really designed to look like his idea of perfection naturally.”
Clark’s getting at something different, Kon just knows it.
“What’re you so afraid of telling me?” Kon finally asks. “I can handle it. I mean, if I handled being poked and prodded for ages and can still come here and get blood drawn, I think I can survive it.”
“You’re right,” Clark says with a sigh. “...What I’m grateful for, above all else, is that Lex never seemed to discuss weight directly.”
Kon tilts his head.
“It’s clear that he was extremely controlling,” Clark says gently. “But he never told you all the reasons he restricted your food intake. But it was clearly to give you a physique he wished he could have had for himself.”
“...I don’t get it,” Kon says. “I still got strong. Isn’t that…?”
“Not quite.” Clark, surprisingly, takes a step back. Then, he motions to his body, from his collarbone down. “I looked a bit more like you did when I was younger. But can you tell me the biggest difference between us?”
“You’re a lot bigger than me, for one,” Kon says – sounding petulant despite himself.
Clark chuckles. “I’m glad that’s something you want for yourself,” he says honestly. “But not quite what I was looking for.” Then, he rests a hand on his stomach. “This. Lex thinks that if I’m superhuman, I’m meant to have a certain look.”
“Which is…?”
“He clearly didn’t talk to you about this at all,” Clark says, sounding deeply relieved. “He hates that humans put on weight easily. And that even Kryptonians do, too, if they’re eating right. Or, I suppose, enough over what they strictly need.”
“What’s so wrong with it though?”
“Nothing,” Clark answers firmly. “But Lex is convinced there is.”
“So you think- you don’t think it was just to keep me small and easier to control?”
“That could’ve been a part of it,” Clark says. “But I knew him when he was younger. I definitely think this was a bigger part of it, even than the obvious benefits of keeping you weaker.”
Kon doesn’t quite know what to feel about that.
Clark just gives him a small, bittersweet smile. “I’m glad you didn’t get the brunt of that. At least, not directly.”
“Is there- a reason he feels that way? It’s… you said other people feel the same way he does, right?” Kon doesn’t know why he asks. He doesn’t think Lex is right, and he knows it doesn’t matter. He likes being healthy; he likes his new life, wouldn’t trade it for anything. “Is there anything to it?”
“Beauty trends change a lot over the years,” Clark says, after a long hesitation. “Body trends are part of that. He just happened to get stuck in an era where bodies with absolutely no fat on them were popular. Especially if they were also muscular.”
Kon frowns. “Even though I’m stronger now than I was then?”
Clark nods.
“Even though I felt like shit?”
“Sorry, who taught you that word?” Clark asks, brows raising.
“Bart. But seriously?”
“I’m afraid so.” Clark gets closer and pats Kon’s knee. “But I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. I don’t look the way Lex wants me to – er, not anymore, at least – and I still make the top five most attractive heroes list.”
“That’s… is that really something that gets ranked?”
“I- Hm.” Clark rubs his chin again, looking as though he shouldn’t have said that. “I suppose that doesn’t really matter either, come to think of it. What I’m saying is that how you feel is a lot more important than what you look like. And if you ever start doubting that, tell someone. Okay?”
Kon doubts he will, but he nods anyway. “I guess. Sure.”
Clark still looks slightly concerned. But he pulls away looking slightly more confident than he did a few moments ago. “Good. Let’s get into the rest of it, then. Like I said, you’ve grown a little, heightwise, since you got out. That’s a really good sign, it would be unfortunate if you were stuck at 5’6” for the rest of your life. Not that being short is bad, but in our line of work, it would put you at a disadvantage in combat, especially when your body is meant to have the growth potential of someone much taller.”
Kon almost tunes him out, having heard a lot of this the last time he was in for a check-up. That is, until-
“But for the better news, I think you’ve officially reached a healthy weight.”
This has Kon blinking up at him. “I haven’t actually stepped on a scale yet today?”
“Sure,” Clark says. “But scales don't tell the whole story, and you've certainly put a lot of muscle lately, too, which isn't really what you needed to be healthier, even if it's a natural byproduct of eating right and the amount of exercise you get. But with the measurements we took, and with my own eyes, I can see enough soft tissue to make a judgment call. You’re still borderline, of course – and it’ll be important to still eat whenever you’re hungry, but you can tell your friends they don’t need to feed you like you’re starving to death anymore. You’re healthy. I'm really proud of you, Kon.”
Kon feels his cheeks warm. Fifteen minutes ago, he thinks he probably wouldn’t care. But it makes him feel strange now. That the way he looks – something Clark could tell just by seeing him – suddenly has another layer to it. That the way he looks was something Luthor was trying so hard to control, something that clearly mattered to him enough to hurt Kon over it.
“Oh,” Kon says. “Cool.”
Clark can see that some of his enthusiasm has waned, and he rubs the back of his neck. Probably doubting opening Pandora’s Box, Kon thinks.
“It is cool,” Clark finally settles on. “We should celebrate at the farm. If I know Ma, she’s already expecting I’ll bring you and will have made an extra plate or two. And before you say no, I don’t think you actually got to take a look at the crops before. I don’t think you’ve gotten to see many growing things yet, I think you’ll like it.”
It’s a welcome distraction. Kon nods, but there’s a tiny part of his heart that stays here, he thinks. A small part of innocence he didn’t think he had, spoiled.
He didn’t think it was possible for Luthor to find new ways to hurt him. But now that he’s free, he learns new things every day.