Character Dynamics: Black Canary, Superboy/Miss Martian
Epsiode: Set in the five year gap between the finale of Season One and the premiere of Season Two
Some days, Black Canary was a punch first, talk later kind of fighter. Other days, she usually got her two quips worth before those cunning remarks turned into something more supersonic and deadly. Right now, she was in a let's-talk-feelings-and-avoid-violence-and-serious-bodily-injury type of fight and losing. Engaging this verbal battle in the training room probably hadn't been the most fitting setup, but the illuminated fighting ring was the only place where she was certain she'd find Superboy. Beneath her heavy combat boots, the electronically infused floor hummed in acknowledgement, familiar with her signature from her many days of teaching the young heroes. As the combat program projected her schematics, now juxtaposed with Conner's over-clocked time in the ring, where they could both easily see; the superhuman clone tensed up in an intimidating stance. "I told you not to bother me, Dinah!" he bellowed in a low, rumbling growl.
Ooo. He said Dinah. Not a good sign. Halting her determined pace, the blonde Leaguer simply slanted a dark brow, delivering him a deliberate look that was caught in the grey area between the extremes of a glare and a sympathetic gaze. "I'm not going to allow you to let this situation get out of hand, Connor. You need to talk about this. Whether that's with your fists or your mouth, you're going to explain to me why—"
"I don't owe you an explanation for anything!" Lunging at her with the impressive force of his steely genetics, he aimed to crush her nose with his fist, hoping to splinter the cartilage beneath his knuckles.
Luckily for the pretty bird, she'd anticipated this from the moment she had planned to confront him. Swiftly curling a hand around the face of his punch, she disengaged him with a merciless double-elbow slash to the jaw. Releasing him, she watched as he staggered backwards with clumsy footfalls, mouth agape in agony as he sputtered, hands nurturing his jarred mandible. The surprise in his eyes was lucid, but she could spot the beginnings of fury darkening the bright pigment. Just as he began to regain his stance, she sent a low sweep to his ankles. Involuntarily, he bent low to balance himself and stumbled to the side, giving her a wide opening to send a forceful hook to his sore mouth. The connection caused his neck recline with the force of the blow and gravity took its toll. He would've ended up sprawled out on the ground if his knees and an elbow hadn't caught the floor first. Still, that didn't prevent the humiliating read out:
Superboy Status: FAIL
"Since it's obvious that you're not going to accomplish anything by fighting me, I suggest you start talking."
When Conner refused to give in, avoiding her fierce gaze and hanging his head towards the ground, she couldn't prevent the aggression from invading her tone, "Now."
Clenching his teeth, he began to push off the ground to shift into an upright position. Once he straightened out, he loomed over her a good amount, a sour look searing his visage. His superior height, however, did nothing to deter her. "I can't — dammit Dinah, you didn't have to hit so hard! I can't tell you anything when you've broken my goddamn jaw!"
"Please," she scoffed, crossing her arms over her indignantly puffed out chest, "you take after the Man of Steel and you're doing a fine job of insulting me. I didn't break it."
"Whatever," he spat, turning to leave the ring and power down the combat system. The ground ceased to spill out light as he headed towards the hallway that led to his room.
"Connor…" Suddenly, her warm palm was resting upon one of his shoulders. He wanted to shrug it off, it would've been easy, but something in her voice made him stop walking. "Tell me what's wrong. I don't want to have to fight you anymore. It's not doing either of us good." Tugging at the dark fabric of his shirt, she spun him around to make her point. "See?" she asked, slipping the fabric of her jacket down to show him the maimed junction of her shoulder and arm. "I think beating you up caused a stitch to come undone."
His eyes scrutinized the maimed spot, tracing the jagged and cruel pattern that held the careful weaving of a stitch. It was bright and angry, livid from the strain of her attack, with a sticky fray that had begun to stain her jacket. Horrible memories of the recent week screamed in the forefront of his mind. The Justice League's recent encounter with Mallah and The Brain had resulted in an alarmingly occupied medical ward in the Watch Tower. Justice had triumphed once again, but it wasn't without an extravagant price. Black Canary, who had been wheeled in on a stretcher her body had painted crimson, suffered from a lacerated shoulder that had bared its bones. The evil duo's deranged animal projects had a taste for human flesh that put the blood sacs for transfusions on demand. Having a stock of a meta's blood was rare, a cumbersome factor that nearly cost the League a few members. Despite the raw history her wound personified, it was the collection of pale, white scars surrounding the newest affliction that drew his attention.
Curling his fingers into his palms until his knuckles were bleached bloodless, Superboy chewed on his lip for a bit before finally replying. "I'm sorry." And he was. Sometimes, he forgot that Dinah Lance, the hard ass vigilante infamously known as Black Canary who could knock you back with a single scream, could hurt, too. He hated that she had to show her scars to remind him that she wasn't invincible. Over the past four years, she had grown to be something like a mother figure to him. It tore him up inside to know that someone so special to him could be hurt so viciously.
"For what you did to me, or for what you said to M'Gann?"
M'Gann. The very name that haunted him incessantly. Even when he tried to escape it in the dream world, she was everywhere. Unavoidable, persistent, always there to make him suffer with guilt.
"For you, mostly. I did what I had to do to protect her."
Covering her wound back up, she turned with a sigh and started in the direction of the Cave's infirmary, looking back over her good shoulder to make sure Superboy followed. He seemed to contemplate it at first, but soon traced her footsteps before coming to her side.
"Although I'll agree that breaking things off with her ended some issues, staying with her would have been better for—"
"Don't. Just… don't say it. I don't want to talk about it. Not anymore."
Dinah opened her mouth to prolong this dispute, but he quieted her with one final say. It wasn't pleading, nor was it an order. It was a simple, hollow verbalization of someone who didn't want to fight anymore. "Don't, Dinah."
Later, after graciously refusing his help, Dinah began to treat her reopened wound. Superboy watched in his brooding silence, not knowing that it wouldn't be until a year later when he would ever get to confide in anyone again about her. Even if it was to a complete stranger on a planet that was star systems away, he'd done far more regrettable things in his life, much like a particular break up he would continuously feel bitter towards.