A/N: My first Young Justice fanfic. Superboy is my favorite gravely conflicted clone.
Disclaimer: *taps foot* I do not own Young Justice or anything related to it. DC comics is on Mother Earth for a reason.
Cerulean orbs fell on the shirt in a mixture of admiration, awe, pride, and disdain. A forefinger and a thumb gently tested the fabric of the shirt, and he was amazed at how comfortable, how soft and sturdy, it felt in his hands. Unwillingly, his eyes scrutinized the shirt; they searched for a flaw, a mishap in the handling and structure, but they were unable to detect one. In the reflection, within the mirror, he witnessed the two defining colors mingle with the other. Black and red, red and black, one was different, the other was the same. The shirt that he clutched in his iron grip, through not fault of its own, reminded him of a truth that had been shrouded in light, secrecy, and doubt.
"You don't have to wear it."
Superboy quivered but not out of surprise, shock, or a lack of keenness. The Dark Knight could walk on water for all he cared, but he could never escape the hearing of his ears. No, it wasn't the presence or the words that made the boy feel uneasy and testy, he was quickly becoming infamous for being just that. He wasn't ashamed to admit the tone of the man's voice was what made him quiver, the blunt but secured quality.
The shirt folded in his grip, and he felt his nails dig into the skin, nearly breaking it. "I know."
"Yet, you hold onto it as if its a lifeline." From the mirror, Superboy's eyes landed on the older, masked man. A glare rose in his eyes, but not out of anger, it was more of a frustrated glare. It was an uncontrolled, frustrated glare. Batman stared back at him, his body solid and unmoving.
It came to Superboy. He was conversing with Batman; Batman didn't reveal emotion, not any emotion that was visible, he believed. His hand clenched tighter on the shirt, and he heard the soft tears in the thread.
"You're in my room." The emphasis on the word was unnecessary, but his restraint was falling thin.
Batman nodded, "Yes, I am." Behind the mask, his eyes narrowed, "I wanted to ensure that you were well."
He bit back a growl, "Why's that?" Anger fought with the calm of his cerulean orbs, "Shouldn't you be...up there...with him."
"Where I should be now isn't important." He executed his word with an assured tone, "What matters is if you are adjusting accordingly."
For the first time Superboy turned his head away from the mirror, "Adjusting?"
"After all that has happened, it will take some time for you to adjust to your new environment," Batman replied smoothly.
"The same for Superman?" He didn't attempt to suppress the growl, "Does he have to take time to adjust too?"
Unmoved, Batman observed the calmness being devoured by the rage, but he remained firm in his place. "I am not a mediator. I am on neither side. You both need time to adjust. Be patient."
Muscles inside his body slammed into his senses, begging them for sweet release. His fingers twitched, blanketed in the black and red shirt. It was impossible for him to secrete the hurt and anger that flashed inside his eyes; he couldn't hold it back, the disappointment. When his body whirled in the opposite direction, towards Batman, he felt a nasty taste in his mouth. His breathing was low and heavy; the shirt in his hand dampened in his sweat. Despite the fact there wasn't a single, foul intention floating in his mind, there wasn't an unblemished one to cancel the unsteadiness out.
"I've been patient!" He snapped, "I'm tired of waiting!"
The expression Batman's face was unreadable, and the unreadable expression scaled the anger that was riding on Superboy's back. He hadn't worn the shirt, didn't want to, but he glared at it and then back at the Bat. He repeated the process just to hold his gaze long enough on the shirt, and the symbol of justice, high and true rested on it.
You don't have to wear it.
But if I don't, the thought trailed off aimlessly. There was no point. He unfolded the shirt, straightening it and letting it out into the light, and he focused his attention on it for some time. His body was swift and easy in its movements; one hand in one hole, the other hand in the other hole, and the shirt fell on his body, a perfect fit. The softness and sturdiness of the shirt remained on his body, and he quietly thought how pleasant it felt against his skin. There was no time to revel in the pleasantness. Head raised to Batman, he answered the superhero's unspoken question with an unspoken response of his own. Superboy was content with the impressed but not quite satisfied appearance on Batman's face.
The back of his cape was all that Superboy was allowed to see as Batman turned away from him. "They're waiting for you." The flowing blackness waltzed down the hall, where the other were waiting.
Superboy stood there in the middle of his bedroom, eyes glazed with simmering anger. But he breathed a breath that was slow and fixed, it settled his nerves fairly well. They're waiting for me, he told himself assuredly, they're waiting for me.
But without that symbol, a callous voice from his subconscious spoke out, you are nothing.
Any attempt to deny the vicious truth was thwarted by the sounds of conversation and laughter down the hall. He distanced himself from his bedroom and the empty hall, and strode towards the sounds of laughter and companionship. The cruel voice that had risen from the dark depths of his subconscious was swept away by a flood of his forcefulness. It deeply fell into the curve of his thoughts; it didn't fall so deep where it wouldn't be heard of again. Presently, Superboy was content with the respite.
Tomorrow would wait. Today was his day.
A/N: Truth is, I thought of Bruce Timm's Justice League. The character I thought of was Galatea, Powergirl homage and Supergirl's JLU clone. Although she tried to kill Supergirl, I couldn't help but feel bad for her. I understand that YJ and JLU are separate entities; I couldn't help but think of it. If I hadn't watched "Schooled" I probably wouldn't have written this. 12:28 here, I have to wake up for seven. Batman has this force, and it's a powerful force. I think he sees what is right and what is wrong; he doesn't blame Superman, but he knows what he is doing isn't right. That's my take on his stance, could be wrong. Many thanks to those who've read this, but reviews are greatly appreciated. Please, don't favorite without leaving a review.
Have a great weekend!