I should really be writing Fight, but the latest episode gave me a lot of questions. I've never been a huge Supermartian shipper, but I was starting to warm up to the pairing come season 1 end, and then I got slapped in the face with season 2. So yeah. I don't know where this came from, considering that I wrote this while watching Russian soap operas and having my dad read over my shoulder. Shoutout to Emily for helping me along with the fic :D

I do not own Young Justice.

Note: This happens shortly after Conner breaks up with Megan, during the 5 year gap.

He walked along Happy Harbor Park, gently touching the green leaves on the bushes lining the pathway. This was the place that he had taken her out to on their first official date. They had taken this same path, holding hands, and laughing about their latest in class assignment. Then the topic would switch to how silly their homeroom teacher was the other day, and then they discussed how he should change his facial hair to look better.

In other words, it was the most fun he had since coming out of Cadmus, rivaled only by the thrill he felt when Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad freed him.

Moving away from the green foliage, Conner walked toward the small swing set and slides. They had sat on the swings for what seemed like hours before Kaldur had called them back to the mountain. They had talked about everything and nothing.

He walked toward the swings, kicking up stray dust as his heavy combat boots landed on the sand covered ground. It was early April, the weather nice and mild. The sun was just beginning its evening descent, painting the sky an orange hue. It was still too cold for the young children from the neighbouring homes to be outside and playing in the park. The grass was slowly coming out of its winter state and turning greener; especially after the influx of showers Happy Harbor had gotten the past week. The leaves were just starting to come out, bringing this faint green colour to the surroundings.

Swinging himself lazily back and forth, he drew random nonsense in the sandy ground. He remembered when M'gann would sit on the swing beside him and drawing neat pictures. She would often giggle and ask him to identify what it was she drew. Sometimes it would well known things like the very swings they sat on, Robin's mask, or the lightning bolts that adorned the costumes of the Flashes. Then there would be the odd day when she would use this sand to educate him in various Martian customs. She would draw the caves of Mars, a famous dish, or the way homes looked on Mars.

He idly wondered if she would share those very same scenes with whoever she would move onto next. Conner was no fool. He might be a clone no older than a few years, but Megan is one person he feels like he knows inside out.

He was there when she revealed that she had based her appearance on Marie Logan. He was the first, other than J'onn and probably a select few other members of the League, to know that she's a White Martian in disguise. She was the first person to show him that he can exist independently of Superman.

But in the end, he couldn't take it any longer.

"A penny for your thoughts?" a young male voice inquired from his right.

Jumping slightly and taking a quick glance to make sure he wasn't wearing his Superboy shirt, he looked up to greet the newcomer. He was a lithe male, looking no older than 16. He had messy bangs reminding Conner slightly of Robin. But the one thing that stood out the most about him was his stunning blue eyes. They were understanding and open, showing nothing but genuine curiosity and… understanding?

"A what?" he asked, blinking.

"A penny for your thoughts. It's an expression that means that I'm willing to listen to whatever is on your mind if you're up for sharing, that is," the unknown man smiled.

"Oh," Conner felt slightly stupid.

With his unwavering smile, the teen walked up to the unoccupied swing and stopped before it. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Still unsure of this unknown person's intention, Conner shrugged. "Anyone can use it," he mumbled looking away. Something about those blue eyes made him feel uncomfortable.

The black-haired stranger sat down on the swing and started swinging back and forth with an enthusiasm that a normal 16-year-old should not be displaying… on swings of all things.

"You know, this reminds me of home," he said, getting louder and quieter as he approached Conner only to leave him again as the momentum carried him back and forth.

"… Home?"

"Yeah." A small silence followed that statement, interrupted only by the groaning of the rusted hinges of the swing.

Conner took this as an opportunity to further analyze this stranger. He saw that the stranger was wearing black converse – the latest trend if he recalled correctly – and dark jeans. There was slight bulging in his pockets, probably a cell phone and a wallet. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie with a white jacket pulled over it, an odd choice in Conner's books. He also absently recalled Robin wearing the same colour hoodie a few times to the cave between their missions.

"I used to be in a circus," the teen brought the Kryptonian out of his thoughts. "My family and I… we were trapeze artists. We could fly, truly fly. It's the greatest sensation in the world, if you know what I mean," stopping his swinging, he looked away from the, now almost red, sky and looked the clone in the eyes. Blue met blue.

"Past tense," Conner noted.

The boy looked away from his blue eyes, and looked back to the sky. "Well, one day they couldn't fly anymore. I was too late, I'm always too late."

Conner didn't know what to say to that. He looked sadly at the stranger beside him and offered him a small smile.

He smiled back.

It was a truly bittersweet smile.

"Oh how rude of me," their comfortable silence was broken. "Alfred would have my hide for this. My name is Richard," he extended a hand sideways.

"Conner," the half-Kryptonian extended a hand and shook it with Richard, mindful of his super-strength.

"The offer still stands, Conner," Richard said after their broke the handshake.

Conner sighed, looking past the expanse of the park and into the trees beyond. "It's kinda complicated."

"I've got time."

"Well there was this girl whom I've liked – loved ever since I remember…."

"Childhood sweetheart?"

"Something like that. She taught me a lot of things, and I think I rubbed off on her as well. We had a lot of great moments, and I can't help but think how happy I was before this happened," he gestured with his hands at nothing.

Richard said nothing; he was just staring intently at Conner's form.

"But then, I realized something."

"You guys were too compatible."

Conner tried to hide his surprise, but he nodded numbly. "I broke up with her. I tried to explain the reasons why – why I think our relationship won't progress as smoothly as it had been until then. She refused to listen, saying that she was expendable and that I had used her." He looked down at his upturned hands. Clenching them into fists, he continued, "Nothing hurt me more than those words leaving her mouth. I tried to reason with her, I really did."

"I don't doubt it, Con," Richard stood up from his swing. Bending down on his knees in front of Conner, he gently took his clenched fists and started to ease them open. "You have to give it time. To her, this is sudden. She never realized that out of the two of you, you would be the one to think of your future together, or that you would be the one to initiate the break up, if there would be one. She just needs time to come to terms with it." He finished with Conner's right hand, and moved to his left fist. "Just give her space; I'm sure she'll listen to you later." Finishing with the left hand, Richard looked up to meet Conner in the eyes. "I'm sure you're a great guy…" he shook his head, "no, I know you're a great guy."

Giving Superboy one last smile, Richard eased himself up from his crouched position. Holding out a hand, he said, "Are you ready, big guy? Are you ready to walk with your head held high and with open arms?"

Hesitantly, Conner reached for Richard's hand. Before he could grasp the younger boy's hand, Richard had already grabbed his hand and hauled him up to his feet.

"'Cause if you aren't, too bad. You're going to do it anyway."

With that statement, he left Superboy standing by himself nearby a still swinging swing.

Smiling softly, Conner whispered, "Thank you… Robin."

This is probably one of the most heartbreaking things I wrote for Young Justice. I wasn't aware I could do something like this. And with this, I shall go back to attempt to write Fight, which is long overdue for an update.

Leave a review on your way out :D