Work Text:
Bart catches a plane to San Francisco. Then he takes the BART to the city - at one time, that was funny - and a bus to where he can pick up the underground access to the Tower.
The Tower's empty.
That's probably a good thing.
He goes to his own room first and sits on the bed, looks around. The posters were childish when he was still a kid but he'd kept them. His closet is full of too-small clothes that he likes and that he can never wear again.
It's not fair. He never gets the chance to just grow up normally.
It catches in his throat, in his stomach, in his heart. At least he got the chance to grow up.
He pulls open a drawer and picks up one of his spare uniforms. He has to wipe his eyes because he isn't going to cry. Just because he's lost the only constant in his life, that's no reason to cry. He can carry on, just like normal.
But he leaves his room before he can give in.
He stops at Tim's room next, but it's locked. He automatically tries to vibrate through it and gets hit by the loss all over again. He's crippled.
He's crippled but he's alive and he can't put it off any longer.
Kon's room.
It's a mess. It should be. There are t-shirts dropped on the floor and boxers kicked under the bed. A destroyed dog toy sits on his desk, next to an open - and dusty - schoolbook. The bed's unmade and Bart can't help but sit down. Then he lies down and pulls the duvet up.
He can smell Kon on the pillow. Pulls the duvet over his head and he's surrounded by Kon.
And now he can cry.