He missed her.
He missed everything about her, even when she was standing right next to him, just as she was doing now. He listened absentmindedly as Nightwing briefed the team on their mission, not really hearing anything he was saying. Something about aliens, an impending invasion, team assignments – he didn't really care at the moment. Not when she was right next to him – so close, and yet so far away.
He saw her and La'gaan exchange a quick glance, and he knew they were speaking telepathically, just as they themselves had done not so long ago. He saw the corner of her mouth lift in a slight smile and it sent waves of nausea to his stomach. He didn't make her smile like that anymore. He wasn't the one she loved. Not anymore.
Everything had been fine – better than fine. Everything had been perfect. For almost five years, they had been inseparable. Being original members of Young Justice, they had been a large part in the training of the younger heroes that came to the mountain, looking to earn their place in the superhero world just as they had years ago. They'd become mentors, teachers, and with that came more responsibilities. But nothing had ever fazed them, nothing they couldn't handle together. They'd always been called Superboy and M'gann. Never one without the other. Now, it was like they were strangers.
Six months ago, M'gann had ended it. Conner had never seen it coming. She'd tried to be strong, pushing him away when he tried to hold her. She wouldn't let him. She gave him no reason, no warning signs – one minute they were happy, and the next, he was alone. Six months ago, she had broken his heart, and he still didn't know why.
He could hear her heart beat next to him, hear the soft inhale and exhale of her lungs. His hands clenched into fists as he tried to focus on Nightwing, who was eyeing him curiously. But he saw something else in Nightwing's eyes – sympathy.
Conner felt her hand brush his accidentally and both of them jumped. She barely looked at him before fixing her gaze intently on Nightwing, while Conner found he could not look away. She'd recently morphed her hair short and cropped. He'd never even be able to tell her how much he liked it. She'd grown and matured in the five years that had passed. She was more confident, a quality he found incredibly attractive – one of the many that she had. But he couldn't tell her that either – not when they hadn't spoken in months.
His missed that more than anything. He missed talking with her the way they used to. Late nights spent in the mountain, talking both out loud and telepathically for hours about anything and everything. Conner had never been very good with words, but with M'gann, they just flowed like it was the most natural thing in the world. He missed their telepathic link, and relished it when she was required to connect with him on missions, although he knew she limited the connection to him drastically than she did with the others. He missed the comfortable feel of her mind touching his, like they were touching each others' most inner essences of who they were. He missed the intimacy of it, of knowing that here was someone who knew him completely. La'gaan would never be able to understand what that meant. He was never serious enough or humble enough to appreciate what M'gann was giving him. Conner wished he could tell her that, too.
She finally glanced at him, and Conner heard the slight increase in her pulse. Their gazes met, and Conner did not look away – he only had a few handfuls of these seemingly insignificant moments to hold on to. He needed them to get through the days that were the loneliest.
He wanted nothing more than to know why – why did she do it? She was everything to him, and he thought she had felt the same. They had been so happy, and then she just broke it – broke him, with no explanation. That was what really killed him. He would do anything, say anything, be anything she wanted him to be if it meant she could love him again.
Why, M'gann? Conner thought. He knew he could only speak to her if she initiated the telepathic link – and she had not, but he still said it just the same. He was always hoping she would reignite the link they'd once had – so he would talk to her quietly, sometimes late at night in his bed while he knew she was just a few halls down, sometimes when they were just a few inches from each other, like they were right now. He was always talking to her, asking her the questions he knew he could not say out loud, hoping she would somehow hear him. His mind felt so incredibly empty without her there, and he now knew that this was the true meaning of loneliness.
He felt a flicker in his head, a flicker that felt so familiar and so warm that he almost thought he'd imagined it. He focused on it, already feeling it leave, and concentrated on pouring everything he'd felt the last few months into the few remaining seconds he had before she realized what she was doing and withdrew.
He remembered the sharp pang in his impenetrable chest when she'd left that night. He remembered the weeks of trying to talk to her, only to have her force him away. He remembered the constant ache as he'd tried to understand why, why she had done this. He remembered the day La'gaan had joined the team, the first time he'd seen M'gann smile at him with the smile she used to reserve for him alone. He remembered the day he'd finally fallen apart in Superman's embrace – the very first time he'd ever cried. And he remembered the numbness that had spread to every part of his body from that day on.
But he remembered other things – happier things, as well. Memories from long ago and ones that were not, but felt like decades. He remembered the first time they'd met, how she'd stirred something in him even then. He remembered the first time they'd kissed, how terrified he'd been of losing her. He remembered the days of sneaking around and avoiding the others on the team, wanting to keep their newfound relationship secret and all their own. He remembered saving the Justice League from Vandal Savage, New Year's day kisses, and how he didn't think he could get any happier than he'd been at that moment. He remembered how just months ago, he had learned that his powers were beginning to evolve, and that he was slowly gaining the ability to fly. She'd been so excited for him, and now he could barely hover because the memory reminded him too much of how much love had shone in her eyes when he'd told her. He remembered the first time she'd told him she loved him, and the last. And he tried with all his might to remember what life had been like before she'd loved him, and he could not.
I love you. Conner thought.
M'gann's eyes widened and he felt the link strengthen for barely a second before it dropped altogether, leaving his mind empty and alone once again. He had no idea how much she had received from his end of the link, but he hoped something had made it through. He still could not look away, and before she turned to look back at Nightwing, Conner saw her eyes glistening in the dim light.
M'gann?
"Superboy, Miss Martian, and Beast Boy – you will go to Rann with Adam Strange. Prepare to leave as soon as possible."
Conner's eyes snapped back to Nightwing, who nodded at him slightly. Conner returned the gesture and turned as Beast Boy came to stand next to him. Conner gave him a small smile as Beast Boy visibly quivered with excitement while trying to retain an air of professionalism. M'gann turned to face the both of them, her expression unreadable.
"I'll go get the bioship ready." She said softly.
"Right…" Conner said. Their eyes connected for a brief moment before she turned to leave.
Beast Boy bounded after her, his excitement no longer containable, and Conner trailed behind as he tried to force his feelings to the back of his mind and get into mission-mode, but it was hard when the person he was trying not to think about filled every corner of it.
Nightwing's voice, now instructing the rest of the team and dividing them into squads for the remaining missions, faded with each step he took until he was out of range and surrounded by total silence, save for the sound of his footfalls on the concrete floor. He held onto his memories as tightly as he could, letting them bubble to the surface to remind him of days long gone – of days that didn't feel so empty.
He missed her so much. He missed feeling whole, and wondered if he ever would again.