To Fly

Tucked into the curve of the mountain, perched upon a ledge that was hidden from mortal sight, Conner sat watching the moon travel across the night sky. Out past the city limits of Happy Harbor the stars glowed fiercely, each one unique and important. He closed his eyes and leaned back on his hands, a soft sigh passing his lips.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since January 1st. Since they had learned so many truths and learned a thousand more lies. Conner couldn't say which was which, as he didn't think even Batman knew. Some good had come from the New Year – Superman acknowledged him, if not as a son than as a friend, a companion, and he and M'gann were closer than ever. Still, the joy he felt from those two events paled in comparison to everything else he felt. Frustration, anger, rage, even fear, mostly fear, if he were honest with himself. Fear of the missing sixteen hours, fear of where Red Arrow would go, and how far he would go, to find the original Roy Harper, and fear for the future, so uncertain at this time. Kaldur was so unlike himself while he worried for Red Arrow. He faltered in training, stumbled over simple words, and seemed constantly distant and solemn. Kaldur had helped Conner become who he was, helped him when it seemed no one else would. Now, with Kaldur lost and broken, Conner couldn't even do the same for him. It hurt, more than any fight ever had.

A whispering wind shifted the sound of footsteps to his ears and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon to his nose. Zatanna.

"Conner?" Her voice was soft, hesitant. He couldn't blame her. He'd stormed out of the cave – an hour? Two hours ago? – and nearly destroyed one of the doors in the process. Not even M'gann had tried to contact him since. In response, he grunted.

Zantanna sat down next him, tucked up in her too large coat and fluffy toque. She was holding two cups in her gloved hands, both steaming. His nose caught the scent of chocolate as she handed him one. Again, he grunted.

Zatanna sipped her own hot chocolate and said nothing, simply watching the stars alongside the Boy of Steel. For a time, the only sound was the whispering wind, shifting the pine needles and branches in the trees. Then, Conner spoke.

"You have a reason for being up here?"

"Can't I just want your company?" asked Zatanna in response. Conner looked at her and said nothing. She blushed, though it was hard to tell with her flushed cheeks, but did not look away.

"Talk to me Con," said Zantanna. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "What are you thinking in that big brain of yours?"

"Nothing." But his mind drifted, whispering the thoughts that had remained in his head since he gave up the shields. Weak, worthless, a pathetic copy. Meeting Match had only solidified those thoughts, so carefully concealed from M'gann. Zatanna raised an eyebrow at him, her skeptic expression exaggerated.

"Look, really, it's nothing," he said. "Just, thinking. About the fight."

"With the League," finished Zatanna.

He nodded. "Yeah." Another long silence stretched out between them and Conner closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. A thought sprang unbidden to his mind, and before he could find fault he spoke it aloud. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if were more like your dad?"

"What?" Zatanna stared at him incredulously, frowning.

"If you had your dad's powers, all of them, do you think we'd be different? Would the team be different? Would our missions be different?" The words spilled from his lips, tumbling. "If you could be who you were meant to be…" He trailed off, flexing his hands. "What would be different, if you could-"

"Fly?" finished Zatanna. Conner grimaced and looked at his hands in his lap, breathing deeply.

"Yeah," he said. "Fly." Zatanna sighed, unwrapping her pink scarf from around her neck and carefully winding it around his own. She tucked it in place and shook her head slowly, frowning.

"What?" asked Conner.

"You're stronger than you know, Con," said Zatanna. "You don't need Superman's powers, Superman's body, Superman's… well, anything. You're Conner Kent, Superboy, and that's all we need you to be."

"I'm supposed to be Superman's clone, not some half-baked copy."

"Half-baked?"

"Wally," supplied Conner. Zatanna nodded in response.

"You're not a … half-baked copy, Con-"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" asked Conner, voice sharp.

"I like it," said Zatanna. "Sounds unique, different. Just like you."

"Sure," said Conner, rolling his eyes. Zatanna bumped shoulders with him.

"I mean it." She set down her cup and dangled her arms over her legs. "God, you're difficult."

Conner flexed his hands again and frowned. "I want to help him," he admitted quietly. "But I can't. I don't know how."

"Who?" Zatanna leaned closer to him, a hand on his shoulder.

"Kaldur. He… he and Wally and Robin are the reason I'm on this team. Robin broke me out, Wally promised to show me the moon," his eyes went to the sky, where a moon that was not quite full hung high in the sky, "and Kaldur broke me out of my mind control. I owe them… everything." He tugged his legs close to himself, something he'd seen M'gann do a thousand times. "And I can't even help them when they need me."

"This is about Ro- Red Arrow, isn't it?" asked Zatanna. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder, the soft fabric of her gloves noticeable through his thin t-shirt.

"Yes. Kaldur isn't acting like Kaldur. And I want to fix it but I can't." He huffed in frustration. "I'm useless."

Zatanna tucked her legs underneath her to slip closer, her other hand resting on Conner's bicep. "Have you tried talking to him?" she asked. Conner looked away. He had, days ago, back when Red Arrow had first disappeared. Kaldur had spent the day working out his frustrations in the training room, and the only thing Conner had succeeded in was getting his butt handed to him when he sparred with the frustrated Atlantean teen. Since then he hadn't tried, not wanting to hurt him even more.

"Once," admitted Conner.

"Then try again. If at first you don't succeed, try and try again, right?" She was smiling, but Conner couldn't return the gesture. "Con, please. You might be the only one who can help him. He's hurt, we can all see that, but none of us who try are getting through." Her face fell, a frown tugging at her pale, cracked lips. He wondered if she was using the Chap Stick she'd gotten for Christmas. "He just lost his best friend; frankly, I'm surprised by how well he's taking it. Artemis and I aren't close enough to get through, Megan, well, she's scared of him right now, and Raquel's in Dakota City. You, Robin, and Wally are his best friends. Wally's too busy being distracted by Artemis and his own hormones to do dick all, and Robin is busy being Robin in Gotham with Batman. That leaves you, and you're the best choice."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," said Zatanna firmly. "And don't think I won't kick you off this mountain if you disagree with me again." She paused to sigh. "Please, Conner, help him, if only because no one else can."

"I'll think about it," said Conner, looking down at his lap again. Zatanna sighed and stood up, dusting off her hands. The cups floated up into them with a whispered word and she shook her head. He heard her turn to walk away but didn't look up, instead focussing on the trees that surrounded this side of the mountain.

"My dad…" Zatanna's voice cracked. "My dad used to say that you didn't have to fly in order to soar. Does that make sense?" Conner frowned, eyes narrowing.

"A little," he admitted. It made more than a little sense, when he thought about it.

"Just something to think about, I guess," said Zatanna. Another pause. "Talk to him. You're more than your powers, remember that." When he said nothing, she sighed again. "Goodnight, Con." Her footsteps trailed off as she walked away. Only when the last footstep faded did he speak once more.

"Goodnight, Zatanna."