Title: Dark Without a Dawn

Characters: M'gann M'orzz, Connor Kent

Pairings: M'gann/Connor

Plot: After watching "Darkest" the thought occurred to me that after losing her best friend, boyfriend, and younger brother in the course of a couple days that M'gann would probably get pretty pissed. Maybe even lose it, considering she wasn't that stable to begin with. And she'd probably want some payback. So this is kind of an angsty, M'gann-goes-rogue kind of story.

The moon is bright as M'gann glides through the air, passing under its glow. Below her, Ivy University sleeps quietly, the old brownstone buildings lit dimly by the street lamps scattered across the campus grounds. Her fellow students are all resting in their dorms; maybe staying up late to study for an early exam, or ordering a late night pizza. All normal, happy college kids. All blissfully spared from the pain that roils inside her—once piercing, like a knife, and now a dull constant ache that will not go away, perhaps never will.

They don't know what it's like to see one of their oldest friends destroy everything that once bound them together. To watch the boy they loved be taken from them, powerless to stop it. To see their best friend lying dead in the sand. Or to know their little brother had been taken, too, and in the hands of the greatest evil they could imagine. Because she been there. She hadn't stopped it.

As she gazes down from above, it occurs to her that she's never really fit in among her peers, despite the years she's spent literally in their skin. She will never be one of them.

And she's known that for a long time, really, she realizes suddenly. Even in those days when she'd spend hours in front of a TV set, mimicking the voice and actions of a girl who was really just an actress herself. Another person she had come to care for who was then tragically taken from her.

Too much. It was all too much.

But she's done being powerless to the pain.

The wind teases her hair as she hovers in front of the window to her dorm room. Her eyes glow brightly as she opens the shutters with a thought, and then glides silently through them. Her roommate is gone, thankfully. M'gann knew because she'd read her mind on the way over, and had gently reminded her as she was checking out at the library that she still had three more books to find. M'gann needs her privacy; she needs her suit, the spare she kept under the loose floorboard in the room. The only one she had left now. She holds out a hand, lazily, and the floorboard rips from its place.

She keeps costume floating in the air before her as she considers it briefly. The cape was unnecessary; it would get in the way. And it was too much like her uncle's…too much like J'onn's. She didn't want anyone thinking of her as the Martian's niece anymore. With another thought, the cape flutters to the ground, severed. The big red straps fall, too. Now it's just black. No decoration. No frivolity. No more ridiculous superhero costumes. No more insipid codenames. Although, she did like that one part of her uncle's that maybe she would keep.

Manhunter sounds pretty good to her right now.

Another thought and the material is wrapped snugly around her, feeling more natural than her human skin ever did. She spares one last look around the room—it's the only real "home" she's got left now—and then she's gone, back out the windows and into the night.

She's just past the rooftop when she senses him; feels like kicking herself for not noticing sooner. Her heart pounds loudly in her chest as she turns. He's standing on the roof, arms folded across the bright red "S" on his chest. And he's looking at her with those bright blue eyes, the ones that could see right through her, no matter what form she was wearing. A split second passes where she wants to throw herself into his arms, tell him she's being crazy, and beg him to tell her that it's all going to be ok.

But the moment passes. And she doesn't. It's too late for that now. It's been too late for a long time.

The seconds tick by and neither one speaks. They've communicated telepathically for so long, she knows that's what Connor is expecting—to feel her mind reach out to his, the way it has so often before. When he realizes finally that she isn't going to, he breaks the silence.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" He says quietly. His voice is low, betraying no emotion. His eyes don't leave her face as he waits for an answer.

"Yes." She makes her voice hard, like steel. There will be no changing her mind.

"To find Gar?" He asks. His voice catches on her little brother's name, and her own throat contacts at the sound. She knows how much Connor loves him, how much it's hurting him to think he hadn't been able to save him—thinking that it had been his fault. And that he knows that a part of her thinks so too.

"To find them both." She answers, her voice hard. She can't afford to show sadness. Can't afford to even feel it. She can only feel her anger. "And to make that monster pay."

Connor looks down, no longer able to meet her gaze. She can see his shoulders tensing, the way they do in a fight when he's bracing for a blow. "And you're not coming back." He says, so softly she can barely hear it.

She's glad he's not looking at her. Because no matter how hard she tries to fight them, there are tears in her eyes as she answers.

"No."

Connor doesn't respond. He stands there as if frozen. Almost like he didn't hear her, though with his super hearing she knows that there's no way he hadn't.

At last, he speaks again. "I should have seen this coming," he says. It's just like him. He's always been the first to find his faults, even where he has none. "The way you were with the Kroloteans, the signs were all there…"

That sends a shock of anger through her. Her eyes flash blue before she can help it, and her words are quick with rage. "And now don't you think it might have been worth it?" Her voice is harsh even to her own ears. "Now do you see why it had to be done? I wish I had taken even more of their knowledge. I could have prevented this! All of this!"

Connor is shaking his head. "M'gann," he says, sounding patient and calm. It startles her, because she expects him to rage, to yell at her, to tell her she's wrong. But his eyes aren't narrowed in anger; they're soft and pleading. Somehow, that makes what he has to say even worse. "You would have killed them. That isn't who you are. We already lost Kaldur—" his voice hardens over the word, "—we can't lose you, too. Please. I…I can't lose you."

His voice breaks at the end. Her heart does, too. She didn't think there was any piece left that hadn't already shattered. His words hurt her…but by now she's used to pain. Still, as she looks at the boy she first loved, and still does, she wants to comfort him. Just one last time. She wishes she could make him understand. Then again, it's Connor, the one who knows her better than anyone else. He probably already does.

"I'm sorry," she finally tells him, her voice a whisper, too soft and too feeble to possibly convey all that she feels. "But…I have to go."

Before she knows what she's doing, she's standing in front of him, raising a hand to gently cup his cheek. He reaches out to her, too, his eyes dark with pain that somehow hurts her even more than her own. Or maybe it is her pain, reflected back at her through his eyes. They've shared everything else. Why not share each other's suffering?

And then their lips are pressed together for the last time. It's a soft kiss, so much different from their first, yet somehow the same—expressing all the feelings they don't have the words to say. Soon—too soon—he breaks away. He can't meet her gaze. He turns, looking away. She understands. If their situation was reversed, she couldn't bring herself to watch him walk away either.

"Goodbye, Connor," she says softly.

And then she turns, rising quickly into the air, and is thankful for the gust of cold wind that dries the tears on her cheeks. The moon isn't so bright anymore. A cloud passes over it, suddenly. And everything is dark.