Rating: T for mentions of drug use.
Genre: Angst
Summary: Conner's feeling very lonely this season. The real reason Lex Luthor wasn't at Santa Prisca in "Summit."
Author's Notes: This is another short story from the Anon Meme. Note, it's not in continuity with anything else I've written. If you've got access to the OED, I think this story works better if you look up the word "Friend" in it, but not obligatory by any means.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit.
Mutual Trust and Intimacy
"Get your rest," Nightwing says. A moment later he adds, "You'll need it." And on that ominous note, the meeting is over. Dick turns to leave. Gar turns into a monkey and launches himself at M'gann.
Conner looks around at the rag tag group of misfits he guesses he's supposed to call friends. He sighs. Friend. The definition comes unbidden, culled from the Cadmus programming. The Oxford English Dictionary has twelve different definitions, and that's just for the noun.
A person with whom one has developed a close and informal relationship of mutual trust and intimacy; (more generally) a close acquaintance.
Dick, Wally, Kaldur—the first people he ever called friends, but are they close? Is there mutual trust and intimacy? What do you call three people who saved you but don't trust you enough to bring you in on their scheme to infiltrate the Light?
A person who is not hostile or an enemy.
That's a better word, perhaps, but useless too. Under that definition even Lex Luthor might count. Luthor is evil, yes. Manipulative, without a doubt. But an enemy? Conner isn't sure.
He sighs and turns to leave—there's a party in the corner around M'gann. Everyone is so glad she's back, safe and sound. It doesn't quite look like there's room enough for him, and he's not sure he cares. He grabs his things to leave and suddenly M'gann's voice is in his head, [Connor?] He turns around, her eyes meet his, [are you heading out?]
[I guess,] he answers.
[I'll walk you out,] she tells him. No invitation, no come and join.
"Ok," he shrugs. She excuses herself for a moment and walks to him. Lagoon Boy's eyes follow, angry and observant.
Once they're out and alone she reaches up to him. He remembers every time she brushed her palm against his cheek. His heart aches with longing. But he stops her. Grabs her wrist when she's a centimeter away.
"I broke up with La'gaan."
He doesn't quite know how to answer that, so he doesn't. He lets her wrist go and she wraps her arms around herself. He wants to reach out. She looks small and miserable and he wants to take her in his arms and hold her. But he doesn't. He doesn't do anything at all.
She presses her lips. He can hear her swallow. Can hear her heart speed up. She licks her lips and he remembers the feel of her tongue against his. "Conner," she starts again. She buries her hand in her hair. "Look. This whole mess with Kaldur…. I… You… Conner… You were right. I shouldn't have done what I did… I know just how wrong I was now. I'm sorry."
He nods.
"I miss you Conner. I miss you so much. I love you. Let's get back together. Let's make it work."
He shakes his head.
Her eyes are so sad, and he hates seeing that in her, hates knowing that he's hurt her.
"Don't you love me?" she asks, voice wavering and desperate.
"Love you?" he asks. Then he brushes the hair out of her face with tender, loving care. "M'gann, I love you more than anything."
"Then—
"But I don't trust you." It's the ugly bitter truth.
A person with whom one has developed a close and informal relationship of mutual trust and intimacy; (more generally) a close acquaintance.
"M'gann, you tried to reach into my mind and make me forget. You tried to change me. Make me docile. Make me do what you wanted me to do."
She looks down. "I didn't want us to fight."
He lifts her chin so she'll look at him. "I was inconvenient, so you tried to fix me, like a thing. Without any regard to my will or agency. What I thought. What I was. Who I was. You didn't care. You wanted to make me into what you wanted me to be."
"I've learned my lesson," she whispers out like a prayer.
He can't help but sigh. "I believe you. And I'm very glad. But… it doesn't make any difference."
"Why not?"
"Because, M'gann, every time I hear your voice in my mind it's like I'm back at Cadmus, in my pod, with Desmond filling my head with his commands. I look at you and my stomach twists in fear. My heart starts to race—I mean, it always did. But… now… it's not the same." He takes her hand in his. "I used to think you were so beautiful—and I don't mean the pretty human face you took from Gar's mom. I mean all of you. But now I see you and I see myself taking Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad and loading them into pods and walking around lifting heavy objects just like a forklift. I see you, and I'm afraid of you."
"Can you ever forgive me?"
"It's not that M'gann. I forgave you a long time ago. I'm sorry too you know."
"I know."
"Lagoon Boy loves you, you know."
"Yeah. But I don't love him."
"I'm sorry," he repeats. She just nods and swallows. Then Gar comes out and calls M'gann back to the party and Conner takes the opportunity to zeta beam back to Metropolis.
Lois is on assignment in Europe, so he has to water Clark's plants. He lets himself in to Clark's apartment and strikes up a conversation with the plants. He thinks he remembers reading that that makes plants grow stronger. But the problem with plants is they don't talk back, and suddenly he's acutely aware of how incredibly pathetic he must look talking to Clark's stupid violets. The fact that there's no one there to see him hardly makes him feel any better.
Job done, he gets up, puts the watering can back where he found it and makes sure to lock the door behind him.
It's nearly three AM now, and he knows he should go to bed. It will be a long day tomorrow. But he doesn't really want to go to bed. The city air is cool. The sky is overcast and the city lights catch in the clouds. He pulls out his cell phone and thumbs through his contacts. Clark is out of town. So is Lois. He knows Dick is busy scheming, not that he'd want to talk to Nightwing anyway. He pauses over the number for the Kent Farm. He knows Martha and Jonathan are asleep, and he also knows that they won't mind if he wakes them up. But Jonathan is sick and Conner doesn't want to worry them.
Wendy.
She might be up.
He sends her a text message, "You up?"
She doesn't answer, so he puts the phone away and shoves his hands into his pockets.
Around 3:20 it starts to rain. He finds it refreshing. He doesn't have an umbrella with him, but it doesn't matter. He wants to get wet.
At 3:37 a car pulls up beside him. The window rolls down and a familiar unwelcome voice calls out, "Son?"
He turns around to meet Lex Luthor's tired eyes.
"Fancy running into you here," he says, and only then does he realize he's right in the heart of the Financial District, three blocks away from LexCorp's headquarters.
The limo's door opens. "Get in," Luthor commands as he undoes his seatbelt and scoots away from the door.
There are probably a thousand reasons why he shouldn't get into Lex Luthor's car, not the least of which is that Luthor is probably on his way to the Light's summit with the Reach. But he does anyway. His clothes are dripping wet. It'll probably ruin the upholstery in Luthor's car. Count that as a strike against the Light, he thinks, but he can't seem to relish the thought.
"Mercy, please turn up the heat," Luthor asks his driver. That's when Conner realizes how cold he is.
They drive in silence for a few uncomfortable minutes until Luthor asks, "What were you doing walking around Metropolis at this god forsaken hour, and in the rain?"
"I couldn't sleep," Conner shrugs.
"How come?"
"You know. Stuff."
There's another silence, then Luthor says, "I couldn't sleep either. That's why I was at the office.
When the car comes to a stop Mercy gets out to open the door. She has a large golf umbrella open to shield Luthor from the rain.
"Come upstairs, Son," Luthor invites as he takes the umbrella from Mercy who gets back into the car and drives away.
"Let's get you out of those wet clothes, or else you'll catch your death of cold."
"You know that's just an old wive's tale. Besides, it takes a little more than cold to get rid of me." But when Luthor ushers him into a lavish bathroom with a six nozzle shower, he doesn't object. Luthor brings him a change of clothes—boxers, a pair of grey sweats, and white athletic socks—shows him how to use the shower and leaves him to his own devices.
The water is strong and hot and Conner didn't know how much he wanted this. Luthor has a veritable assortment of toiletries. He grabs something that he thinks is probably a shower gel—it smells of lime and verbena and has little beads that scratch his nigh-invulnerable skin.
Luthor's towels are a deep crimson, monogrammed with the letters LL in gold thread. They're fluffy and soft, and he wonders if this is what clouds feel like. He decides to go commando because wearing Lex Luthor's boxers is just a tad incredibly creepy. By the time he's dressed again the sun is already rising over the city. There's a breakfast spread on the kitchen table and Luthor's bending over the counter with a straw up his nose.
Conner has never given much thought to Lex Luthor's personal habits, but in retrospect he realizes he never would have expected this.
The white powder disappears. Luthor bolts up and shakes his head violently. When he sees Conner he frowns. "That's very bad. You should never do that."
Conner takes a seat at the table and looks at the older man. "I never thought you would—why?"
Luthor straightens out his tie and sits across him. "Not everyone can run on sunlight. I haven't slept in the better part of a week, and at a certain point, caffeine can only do so much. But it's a nasty habit and you shouldn't do it."
Luthor leans over to pour himself some coffee. "Decaf," he explains. "You want some?"
"Got any that's not decaf?" Conner asks, because hey, not everyone runs on sunlight.
"I can put a pot on. Or make you an espresso. I have instant coffee too, if you don't want to wait."
"I can't imagine the great and powerful Lex Luthor drinking instant coffee."
Luthor shrugs. "It's funny. It's not nearly so maligned in Europe as it is here."
"Can I have an espresso?"
Luthor nods and gets up. "Single or double?"
"Double."
"Help yourself to whatever, by the way, if it wasn't obvious."
Conner nods, even though Luthor is fiddling with the espresso machine and has his back turned. He reaches over and starts to serve himself scrambled eggs, bacon, and home fries. He grabs a pistachio muffin and a strawberry yogurt and serves himself a glass of orange juice and is delighted to realize that it's freshly squeezed, not the Tropicana crap he usually drinks.
"Your grades have been slipping," Luthor says as he puts down the coffee cup in front of Conner. He doesn't wait for an answer before he starts piling eggs on his own plate.
Conner shrugs. He had no idea Luthor knew who he was, or was keeping tabs on something like his grades.
The older man looks at him suddenly. "Son, is everything ok?"
Luthor is a manipulative bastard, Conner reminds himself. "Of course," he lies. Or tries to. It comes out a lot more like, "No."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.
"Not really," comes out like, "Yeah, kinda."
"I'm all ears."
Conner wonders if anything in his life will ever be this surreal again. He's talking to his billionaire super-villain genetic donor about his stupid problems over breakfast, and in a few hours they'll be fighting in a cave somewhere in Santa Prisca.
"You did the right thing," Luthor says finally. "The Martian Girl isn't good for you. Even if you love her and she loves you—that's not enough."
"What do you know about love?"
Luthor chuckles. "More than you might think, Son." He spears a piece of fried potato on his fork and chews it thoughtfully. He washes it down with his decaf coffee. "You know, they say that behind every great man there's a great woman?"
Conner nods.
"It's entirely true. I could rip my heart out and give it to Mercedes Graves and know she'd guard it with her life. There's nothing in the world for which I would trade her away. I trust her with my life, with my secrets, my dreams and goals. And I entrust her with my most important errands. And because I trust her, because I know I can trust her, I can rely on her, and she makes me so much more than I am.
"But that only works because I know I can trust her. I know that if I give her a weapon for an arm, that weapon will never point itself at me. I know that if I give her access to LexCorp's financials she won't embezzle a penny. I know I don't need to check her work or have her tailed and I'll never have to worry about her testifying in court or talking to reporters.
"But you can't trust Miss Martian. No matter what she does now, you'll always wonder, do I feel this way because she wants me to?. And so you won't tell her things. You won't rely on her. You won't ask her for advice. And that, my son, is a recipe for disaster."
"It sucks."
"I know. But, here's the good news. You're quite young. And you're a good boy. You've got your whole life ahead of you, and you'll meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve her. Or him," he adds with a shrug.
"Listen, if I of all people found Mercy, and Superman found Lane several hundred light years away from where he was born, you'll find someone too."
Suddenly Luthor's phone rings. "Excuse me," he says and pulls out his Blackberry. He smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry. That's my girl Friday reminding me I have a very important business meeting. You can stay a while longer and help yourself to anything you like, except my cocaine and alcohol."
As Luthor walks past Conner reaches out and grabs his wrist. "Hey, are you free for dinner tonight?" He asks (he hates to think of himself as pleading).
Luthor bites his lip and for once the man looks conflicted. "I'm very busy tonight. Would you like to do dinner tomorrow? Or we can do something during the weekend, if you would like."
Conner shakes his head. "No. Tonight. Please." That sounds more like pleading. "From 4:45 to 9." It's an outrageously long amount of time to demand from Lex Luthor, CEO and super villain extraordinaire. It's also the exact time when the Light is supposed to be meeting with the Reach in Santa Prisca, and only after he's said it does it really occur to Conner that if Luthor tells the Light that the Team knows about the meeting, the whole thing will be ruined and Dick will have his hide. Dick, after all, knows how to get into Batman's not-so-impenetrable vault.
The look in Luthor's eyes changes entirely.
"Is it important to you?" Luthor asks. He no longer looks conflicted, but cautious.
"Yes. Please. It's very important to me."
"Why?" Luthor asks skeptically.
"Because… Because I'm very lonely," is the only explanation that he can offer.
Luthor seems to be thinking about it. Finally he nods slowly. "Very well. I will tell my business partners that an urgent matter has popped up and requires my attention and I will clear my schedule. From 4:45 to 9 tonight I will be here. Waiting for you."
"Thanks."
"Of course, that's what I'm here for." And with that Luthor leaves.
Conner finishes his breakfast. Then with his x-ray vision he looks for Luthor's stashes. He finds eight little baggie scattered throughout the apartment and empties each one into the toilet. He stuffs his clothes in Luthor's drier, and once they're wearable again he leaves the clothes Luthor lent him folded in the hamper in the bathroom. He grabs the shower gel—Luthor did say he could help himself to whatever he wanted, and the door clicks locked behind him.
On his way out he checks his phone. He has a new message from Wendy: "Just got this sup?"
"NM," he answers. "was thinking of you."
The phone buzzes in his hand with an almost instant reply. "At 3am?" Then it buzzes again. "And ur up?"
"Just had a double espresso with my dad," he writes back.
"Allniter?"
"Ya. Gettin that second wind tho. Feeling really energized."
"LOL. Bout 2 head 2 breakfast, if u want 2 join me."
He looks at his watch. He can teleport to Ivy Town and be in the dining hall in fifteen minutes. "Kk. Be there in 15?"
"B waitin 4 ya."
With a smile, he sets off running to the nearest zeta beam port.
A/N: Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. :)