Disclaimer: I do not own 'Young Justice'
'Too Good to be True'
'B' Part III
by Song Six
"Watch your step." Conner told him, leading him to the ledge of his window. Richard hesitated following for a moment.
"Are we jumping out of a window?" he asked curiously, while Conner scratched his head sheepishly. Yeah, so getting the blind kid to jump out a window wasn't the best plan, but it was the only exit out of the house without his grandparents knowing. He took Dick's hands and led them to the old water drain. It was damp and wet from the rain, and at first it was hard for Dick to really get a good grasp; but eventually he was able to wrap his arms around the pipe.
"Careful, just slide–" Conner warned, but before he even finishes, the young teen has already let go of him and slid to the ground with ease"–down."
He gaped down in surprise at the boy, but all Dick did was smirk once he got a firm footing to the dirt, "Hurry up!" he called with two hands either side of his mouth. Conner nodded and actually fumbled as he tried to leave through the window. Funnily enough, he had a lot more trouble doing so than the other teen did. He blamed it on the size of his build. He had too much pride to admit he had his klutzy moments.
Once he reached the bottom with a loud plop into the dirt, it was Dick at the bottom helping him steady himself. There was way too much irony in this situation. After Conner was sure his boots were planted safely into the mud, he took the other teen's hand and started walking. It was only after a few minutes did he realize how embarrassing his action was. When he turned around, Dick was blushing just as hard as he was, but he never let go, "Is this alright?" he asked with hesitance
"Y-Yeah." The younger teen replied, coughing into his free hand. Conner cleared his throat and continued walking leading them towards the red crusty barn at the edge of their estate. As they got closer he could hear the sleeping animals nestled in their hay. He wondered how well Dick could hear them. At night, the barn looked like a haunted house since it was so dark inside with the chipped paint and peeling wood. But it wasn't inside they were heading.
Eventually they reached the side of it, Conner let go of the boy's and gave the wooden ladder leaning on the wall a wiggle. After he was sure it was sturdy enough to carry them he turned around and asked Dick, "Can you climb up the ladder by yourself?" He should have thought about this sooner, maybe West was right about him sucking at making plans; in both football and life.
The younger teen placed a hand on each hip and grinned at him playfully, "Can I take the derivative of a cow?" What?
"What?"
"Yes, I can." Dick said simply, before moving his arms around in front of him. When he found the ladder he shimmied up quickly like it was almost too natural for him to do this all the time. But man, was that question going to be on the math final? Aw shucks, he really hoped it wouldn't be. It wasn't even something that they covered together in tutoring. Maybe if he didn't skip out Richard would have showed him? He knew you had to start using the alphabet in math, but he didn't know animals had anything to do with it either!
Once Richard reached the top of the barn, Conner quickly followed after. At the last step, he almost lost his footing, but luckily the other teen caught him. No really, how was he able to do that? He then took the teen's hand once more that night and led him to the spot he often used to sit with the best view of the fields of wheat. When they were settled in their seats, he couldn't help but wonder still…"What's a derivative of a cow?"
Richard rolled his eyes. The older teen quirked an eyebrow, he didn't know Dick could do that still. "Prime rib." Oh, it was a joke. Conner fought the urge to slap his forehead as he always did, "Where are we?" Dick asked, pulling his hand away realizing they had forgotten to let go.
That's right, he took him up here for a reason. Conner took a deep breath and looked up, a soft wind blew past his ears. He closed his eyes for a second before taking in the sky once more, a rush of emotions and memories passing through his mind. He folded up his knees and clutched his hands tightly in front of them letting it all come back to him, "It's pitch black out…"
"Conner?" Dick raised an eyebrow confused wondering what was going on, but the older teen kept going.
"It's not just dark, it's pitch black out with a hint of blue, like looking into the ocean. You want to reach out your arms and touch the bottom…" as he says this he reaches his arms out, and so does Richard "…but you feel so small because it goes on endlessly…"
Dick than realized what he was doing, "Go on."
He swallows a hard lump in his throat before he keeps going. His voice filled with wonder and awe in a soft almost whisper "…There's a billion stars, and it feels amazing to just look at them, because it's like having everyone you love smile at you at once beaming brightly." After he said that last line, he felt the back of his eyes begin to pulsate, but he counts back to ten in his head trying to fight it away.
"That was really amazing dad."
"That was really amazing Conner."
"Yeah." He wondered if the stars were twinkling on their own or if they always shined brighter through water. But when he felt the pressure to answer the other boy, he blinked away anything in his eyes and grunted, "Um, so me and my dad would come up here and look at the stars. He wanted to be an astronaut. Never went to college though."
"Oh, that's cool."Richard meant it, and plus he didn't know what else to say. There was something Conner wasn't telling him. He could sense it in the air around them. Maybe it had something to do with his father. The mention of him did seem to bother the older teen. They must have gotten into a fight or something earlier. He did say that was his Grandfather earlier, not his dad. Maybe he was mad at him for the same reason he was upset with Bruce: for always working and never home.
"So what happened with your parents? It's ok, if you don't want to talk about it." Conner asked in a gentle but curious voice. Richard shook his head when he realized where he was again. He was also taken aback by the question, but it was nice that the other teen didn't try to force the story out of him. Not like everyone else. He remembered when Wally first asked or more of probed him to know about the accident. Some people didn't get how many feelings it brought back just thinking about it. Sure, not like the jerk was purposefully trying to be insensitive, but some people didn't get how much it hurt to lose people you love if it never happened to them.
"Do you really have no idea?"
Conner rubbed his chin thinking before replying, "No, I mean West told me something, but I don't really know anything about you." He wanted to know though.
Dick nodded, of course Wally would say something. That big mouth. "Do you want to know?" Yes he did.
The older teen shook his head, "I'm not going to make you tell me. It's your deal not mine, I get it if you don't." Somehow, just knowing that put Dick to some peace. Strangely enough, without all the pressure or the fear or being pitied; he kind of wanted to tell Conner now. But could he?
Conner didn't seem like a bad guy, in fact he seemed like a really good guy. For an ignorant bumpkin, he had a huge heart. But then again, what if he just felt sorry for him like everyone else? What if he saw him as a circus freak? What if he treated him differently? However, there was the possibility maybe once, just this once someone would actually understand him. But it was like he mentioned, no one could truly understand until it happened to them. There was really only one way to find out: "Me and my mom stargazed a lot too."
"Really?" the older teen was actually happy to hear such a thing. It was something the two of them could have in common. He missed stargazing with someone…even if Dick couldn't see.
"Yeah, after every show she'd hold me and we'd just sit there on top of one of the canopies and it look at the sky." The younger teen explained now sitting cross legged clutching his knees tightly. Maybe this was a bad idea, it was easier said than done.
Conner didn't know what to say, there wasn't really much he could. Now he understood what those other people felt when they found out about him, "I'm sorry."
Richard sighs before breaking out of one mood and jumping right into another,"Bruce tries, he really does, but no matter what he does it's not like he could give me back everything I lost…" he held a sad tone, but there was an amused undertone"…it's funny, I can't even drive that motorcycle." He almost said this bitterly, but it was more grateful than anything else. If you didn't listen carefully you would have missed it.
Conner didn't, "Because you're only fourteen right?" But he did manage to miss other things.
Dick was ready to bust a gut, "Er…yeah dude, because I'm fourteen!" he cackled loudly, and as much as the other boy enjoyed his laugh, he was confused as to what was so funny.
So he kept going, "Why did he get it for you?" he wondered. Richard smirked with amusement, but it melted into a genuine smile. No mischief, no playfulness, no sarcasm, or even any teeth. Just a simple, sweet, warming smile. Conner's never seen this particular look on his face before, and it was really nice.
"Because I mentioned to him once how I used to dream of having one. I would have named it the R-Cycle I told him…because you know, the D-Cycle would come with too many jokes." He laughed joyfully with pure bliss like he was remembering something unforgettable. He was already small, so Conner could picture a young Dick Grayson running around asking Bruce Wayne for a metal death trap. Somehow, it sounded cute. Not like Megan cute though…right?
"Jokes?" Conner questioned, scratching his head truly bewildered.
Richard rolled his eyes. Really, he's able to do that? "Think about it."
Sky blue eyes looked up to the left as he concentrated to find an answer but alas…"I don't get it."…nothing.
"Should have figured…" Richard chuckled at him, as the air grew colder and the winder grew stronger he shivered. Good thing Conner's clothing was big on him, they were like blankets, but his hands were bare. So he settled for sitting on them hoping to warm them with his bottom"…he said once I do get older, Alfred can drive me around."
Watching the smaller teen made the bigger of the two grow cold himself. In order to keep his own hands warm he tucked them deep into his armpits, "Why can't you do it yourself? You'll be older."
"Conner, you're a swell guy you know that?" Dick commented struggling to not keep laughing, the older teen was just about to ask what was so hilarious when he points to dark blue eyes. Sometimes Conner wondered if he should just write on his arm in permanent market so he wouldn't forget so many times the obvious.
"I get it…by the way, I didn't know you could roll your eyes." Somehow, even that was funny to Dick. Excuse Conner for not knowing lot's of things.
Dark blue eyes look around as if he could actually use his orbs, but only to demonstrate he still had the ability to move them, "I'm blind, not paralyzed Dude." For a moment, Conner felt false excitement watching his pupils move about. For a moment it was almost like he could actually see.
"Sorry…" Just thinking about the fact Dick couldn't look around like he could or ever see what Conner looked like made him sad too. If he could see what he looked like, what would Richard think? It was something he'd never know, but then again did it really matter?
"I could have been though," Dick started with a sigh enticing Conner's interests," actually…I may not even be here if it weren't for…nevermind."
"It's ok…" If it weren't for what? But he knew what it was liked to be probed, so he didn't pry "…so what I said about the stars, it's what Dad used to say. I could never think up anything like that, or like him." What was it about this guy that made Conner keep almost talking about that? He never did to anyone, he barely did with his grandparents by choice.
Dick didn't need to have his eyesight to see something was wrong, he could feel it, but he didn't want to push the older teen. Conner didn't push him. He acted like a good friend and didn't make him tell him his story…wait, were they friends now? Would it be ok to just tell him?
"It was June 27th, five years ago. Haley's Circus was performing in Gotham City for the first time on the tour. We had no idea how corrupt the city could be." Yes, it would be.
Conner's heart started to beat rapidly. Richard was confiding in him, which was something he was not expecting. This was it:"You were nine?"
Dark blue eyes glistened as they struggled not to let anything fall, "Yes…that day…Tony Zucco, some mafia boss approached my parents saying they should pay him for protection. They wouldn't go for it; they knew he was trouble…"
Conner had heard of him, a man who is consistently put to jail, but never stayed. He said nothing as he patiently waited for the boy to continue with his story. Richard bit his lip thinking, his Adam's apple bobbing crazily. The older teen knew this was probably taking a lot out of him.
"Later on, I overheard him telling someone they were going to get revenge, but I was really young back then, and I didn't know what it meant or what to do. A-And then while we're performing the ropes...they…he…usually dad always checked the ropes but he must have forgotten because…" he paused for a moment, but he didn't need to finish for Conner to know what had happened. Everyone knew. "…they snapped."
"Dick–"
"When we all fell, their bodies broke my impact…" Dark blue eyes couldn't fight it anymore, and tears started to fall rapidly without fail"…Mom died holding me in her arms trying to save me. It was all my fault."
"No, it wasn't." Conner tried to convince him, but he refused to listen.
"If I had just warned them they would still be here with me." There was an awful desperation in his voice, a tone he thought he'd never hear someone like Richard Grayson ever have.
"Don't say that." He started, but it was no use.
"No! If I just said something, anything at all we could all be here happy and looking at the stars together." Dick yelled back at him, face red and nose flaring. He never meant to send him over the edge.
"You can't–" Conner wasn't sure what to say, what would Ma have said? What has she said to him in the past? "–your parents would never blame you for what happened. Obviously, they loved you enough to sacrifi–"
Richard interrupted him throwing his arms in the air, "I know what they gave up! But I just wish my mother could have at least survived in my place!"
No. How could Dick ever say such a thing? Did he not get it? "And she would have wanted the same for you had it been you! She died so you could be alive and be happy! That's always all they ever want from us even when they're gone." That is all parents ever want, for their kids to be happy. You don't need to be the winner or perfect for them, all they want is…for you to be happy. Wait…that's all they want…Conner stopped for a second, he really needed to take his own advice.
"Well I can't Conner. How can I be happy when I can't even see the stars in the sky or anything anymore? All I see is black, all I ever feel anymore is lost. I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. And worst of all I just…you have no idea how much I just want…how much I…if I could just…" Richard punched the roof, but not too hard, just enough to let go of some of his pent up feelings "Dammit…"
Richard moved his face away from him, which confused the older teen since it didn't really make a difference…"Dick?"…unless he was hiding something. At the sound his name the younger teen turned his head slightly, but just enough for Conner to see something he regretted.
For the first time since he's met the guy, Conner didn't want to have to look at his eyes…"You have no idea how it feels to be so helpless."…because never has he ever wanted to see those blue eyes cry. He never got why Ma was always reading sad articles in the newspaper and would say it broke her heart. No one did anything to her so it didn't make sense to him – until now. He did feel helpless, because he couldn't do anything to change the way Dick is. No one could. Suddenly, he forgot how cold he was from the weather.
He tried placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, but it was batted away quickly, "I know you can't see anymore. I know what I said a long time ago about being able to see and being weak but–"
"No Conner! I just…you don't…you don't get it. I am weak. Because I don't care if I never see again..."Dick had to stop and catch his breath, it was as if something was clogged in his throat and he couldn't speak. He felt like something was choking him "…All I've ever wanted up to this point, is to just to…I just…" He started to walk around the roof pulling at his hair in frustration.
Conner has never seen him this upset before. Just as he was about to try to calm him down he froze. Richard stopped in his tracks, got down to his knees and buried his face in his hands sobbing softly. When he lifted his face he cried out hysterically: "I am weak if I don't have Mom…without her, I feel weak. I needed her…I…I'd give anything in the world for her to be here! To hear her voice to…just…have her tell me I was good enough, I mattered, she loved me, she was proud…I don't want to see again I just want her!" His voice was a mix of rage, pain, and worst of all sorrow. That was it, it was never about seeing it was his mom. Conner should have known, because he knew that feeling all too well.
But how could a smart, talented guy like him think he needed someone else to tell him he's good enough? For a freshman with a high IQ that's pretty stupid. "Dick, I called you weak. I was wrong. You're wrong too." How come Dick can't understand his mom wasn't blowing smoke in his ear when she said all those things? Just because she's gone doesn't mean she didn't mean it. He highly doubts the guy's mother would lie to him about stuff like that.
"How would you know?" Richard spat bitterly standing up crossing his arms.
Conner stopped in his thoughts. He's right, how would he know? He didn't even know what it exactly was that he needed to believe himself. You think the answer would be easy, but he just didn't know what to think anymore. Not when there's no one telling him what he needed to hear, he knew how that felt. So how could he ever tell Richard different? Especially when all the boy wants is his mom to say things like 'I'm proud of you', or 'you're great', and 'I love you'. Up to this point all Conner has ever wanted was–
"You're much stronger than you think you are. Trust me."
–for him to say those things.
It finally hit Conner, the answer to all his stress and all his low self-confidence was always there. Even though he wasn't there to say it anymore it didn't make it any less true. Just like Dick's mom, he said it for a reason too, and that was because he meant it, "Because, you are strong. Stronger than you think. You just have to believe that yourself. Your mom told you, you are for a reason. She wants you to know that even when she can't be here to tell you. She just wants you to believe in yourself and be happy." Of course, there was no way Richard would believe him, not until he believed it himself. Just like their parents did. Funny, and to think all this time he's been the blind one.
"How would you know? How could you possibly know?" Richard demanded to know angrily.
Conner fisted his hands as he prepared himself. This was something he's never told anyone outside of Smallville. It was something hard for him to ever talk about, but now he was ready, "It was what my Dad wanted for me…at least, now I'm beginning to get that."
Dick was almost speechless as the anger left his mind and body. His heart stopped for a moment as he realized what Conner could be implying, but he didn't want to jump the gun, "What do you mean?"
"He was on his way home..."
It was a sunny day much like any other in the city of Metropolis. Blue skies, bright sun beating down, fluffy clouds, and happy smiling go lucky people on their way home from a long day at work. Unlike Gotham, this city was not as nocturnal, all the action and excitement happened during the day while there was still light out. There was just something about the place that made you want to skip instead of walk; whistle a show tune as you went your way; pick up strays of litter acting as a good citizen.
Clark Kent was one of these cheerful go getters driving across the great iron bridge that connected the big city to the small country town of polite folk, otherwise known as Smallville. Tonight, he promised his only son they would toss the football around before it got too dark, so he had to hurry home. Afterwards, they were going to slice up some of Ma's famous apple pie with some vanilla ice cream and stargaze as they always did.
He was pretty sure he was going to make it home in time, because traffic was usually always good. However, there was a jam on the bridge, which was unusual since normally this sort of thing never happened. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled assuming it was probably just a D.U.I drive through test thinking it wouldn't take long. He was wrong. Eventually, ten minutes turned into half an hour, half an hour turned into an hour, and one hour turned into three. The sun was beginning to set and Clark was running out of time. He needed to get home.
None of the cars were moving, and everyone else was also confused as to what the commotion was about. Soon he started to grow impatient. Clark turned off his engine and stepped out of the car. The atmosphere was different from how it normally was. It wasn't fresh with clean air and relaxed with pure bliss. Rather, it was smelling heavily of collecting exhaust, and there was a strange feeling of alert – something was wrong.
People gave him funny looks wondering what he was doing and where he was going as he walked by. A few honked at him telling him to get back in his car and just wait and let the authorities handle it. He wouldn't take this sitting down though, he had a boy to get home to and a promise he had to keep. He was going to teach him a special move he used to use back when he was the quarterback of his high school.
As he got closer and closer to the cause of the jam, there were more and more empty cars, and in the distance he could see blinking red and blue lights. Something was definitely wrong. There was a crowd of people gathered around, and a helicopter had just arrived overhead. Policemen were trying to direct people to go back to their vehicles and turn around, but there were too many. There was no way everyone was going to leave that soon, it would take a couple hours. As he approached the scene he then realized even the swat team was here.
He was just about to turn to a little old man to his right to ask what was happening, but the look on everyone's faces and the pointed guns told him everything. There was a lone man standing in the middle of the chaos clutching a smell metal object with what appeared to be a digital clock. He had a bomb. He looked around midst all of the hectic mess and all the frightened people. He saw the danger in the eyes of the armed men, the hatred in the eyes of the citizens; what everyone else missed was the lack thereof of it in the eyes of that lone man. Clark saw what others had failed to in this man: fear and regret.
When he saw that it was going nowhere he took a stand and ignored all the voices around him and the one in his head yelling at him: 'was he crazy?' The police were screaming at him to stop moving or they would shoot, but he knew it was a bluff. They could point any gun at him and he wasn't scared. No bullet would hurt him that day. As he approached the lone man, he started to gain even more confidence as he realized the other was shaking violently.
"Hey there, my name is Clark Kent." He greeted with a huge dazzling smile. The police stop screaming. The whole crowd falls silent as they wonder what he was doing. He sticks out his hand waiting for the other to take it. For awhile, the man just eyes him not so sure how to react before he takes his hand and replies:
"Lex Luthor."
Clark nodded his head and gave a nice firm handshake before letting go and placing an arm around the shaking man. The other tensed for a second before relaxing under his reassuring smile, "Luthor? I heard of you, you're a famous architect right?"
Luthur nodded as well and hugged his device closer, "and you write for the Daily Planet." Clark could feel the suspicion rising back in his expression. He needed this guy to trust him.
"I'm not here to interview you or pump any information. I just want to know what's wrong." He tried to convince the bald man, but he didn't look convinced.
"Here…" so he slipped off his tie, his blazer, his shined shoes, slid off his khakis, and unbuttoned his shirt. Many people gasped in surprise of his actions, Luthor sighed in relief, "…see? No bugs." He let down his shoulders and loosened his grip a bit on the metal object when Clark placed his arm around him again.
"A-Alright."
He asked him in a gentle voice, "What are you doing?"
The man looked up at him, at first he's speechless, and he wondered if this was all a trick. But anyone could see the sincerity in the dark blue eyes of Clark Kent, he was a man with a huge heart never out to lie or trick. When he found his voice he told him nervously in a quiet voice, "I-I didn't want to hurt anyone…I r-really didn't."Clark didn't even have to question him to know that he meant it. The poor man was almost in tears, and he looked so alone.
"Then why do you have this? It's dangerous." Clark told him, gesturing towards the ticking object as the numbers slowly dropped with every second. He noticed he was running out of time – they all were.
"This was supposed to be my bridge," Luthor whispered with a look of shame refusing to meet his eyes, "they promised me they would use my design." It was a matter of pride apparently, and because of it he risked people's lives. He felt as low as the situation was.
But Clark refused to look down on him or hate him for it. Instead, he continued to comfort the pitiful man, "what happened? How come they didn't?"
Luthor shook his head closing his eyes as if remembering a bad after school special with a sickly look, "they insisted they use this iron design by my colleague, Winslow Shott, simply because it looked more 'artistic'. The man had been a toymaker all his life and suddenly he comes in stealing my dream. All I ever wanted was to be picked. They never picked me. Then after they do someone comes in and steals it."
Clark gave him a slight hug as Luthor started to feel angrier, but he calmed down under Clark's touch and remembered the situation he was in, and once more his fear was back, "s-so, I kept trying to tell them iron wasn't strong enough. They should have used my steel design, but they didn't care. A-And I thought I'd teach them a lesson."
"And you made this contraption?" the kind man asked taking the metal object in his hands, Luthor didn't even put up a fight. The crowd still remained silent as they saw it was finally going somewhere.
"I called it Doomsday. I placed the actual device in a steel box to teach them a lesson. I wanted them to only think I was going to blow up the bridge and show them steel was stronger than iron, but my calculations were way off and now…now…now we're all going to die," he sobbed burying his face in his hands in devastation. The kind and forgiving man held him patting his back trying to sooth him, but there was no point anymore. Clark glanced at the clock and realized there was only one minute left.
In sixty seconds a lot of people were going to get hurt – a lot of people were going to lose their lives. Women, children, fathers like himself just wanting to get home to see their family. People with so much life ahead of them, and it was all because of one man's wish being stolen from him. He couldn't let everyone pay for one man's suffering. Especially knowing these people had loved ones to return to. He had to do something, and quick.
He clutched the device tightly in his hands and looked at Lex Luthor with serious eyes pulling away. The police and swat team around them readied their guns not sure what was going on. The bald man looked back at him and instantly knew what he was thinking. There was great gratification in his own expression, as well a look of guilt and apathy because he couldn't do something so selfless himself.
There was a glimmer in his dark blue eyes, one that shined with bravery as well as a great sadness. There was no mistakening the ache tearing wildly at him on the inside knowing that one little boy wouldn't be seeing his father that night. He knew what he was giving up, but he was a man with a huge heart, and knew somebody had to do something. Lex Luthor stood there on his knees looking up at him in great respect. He never knew someone so heroic.
"Wait, I remember hearing about this on the news…was your dad–?"
"Yeah, my dad was The Man of Steel…"
At least, he would receive that name later on in the headlines. This would of course be after he asked Lex Luthor to do him one thing. When the man assures him he would follow his request, Clark took the metal box in his arms like a football; ran towards the edge of the bridge with a determination that could not be matched with anyone else; leapt from the edge holding onto the bomb for dear life knowing what was about to happen. People screamed as they figured out what was going on, and as soon as he hit the water…
"…it was over. He saved a lot of lives." Conner looked away from Richard and up to the sky. He knew there was no way the boy could see his tears, but he didn't want to cry in front of him still.
Dick was shocked, who knew that Conner Kent was the son of Clark Kent: Man of Steel, hero of Metropolis. How did he ever miss the writing on the wall? All this time Conner was like him, he lost his whole world in a single moment too, "Your father died being a hero."
"No, he was always my hero." Conner corrected as he started to blink rapidly trying to stop his eyes from watering…"The only reason I know this whole story was because Lex Luthor came to me and told me himself before they forced him into prison. It was my dad's final request that he told me how much he loved me a-and how he'd always be proud as long as I was happy. That…that…I'm stronger than I think I am." …but there was no stopping it. The hot salty droplets would not stop coming as they streamed down his cold cheeks. He clutched the roof of the barn trying with all his might not to let Dick know he was crying.
"There was never really a time I believed in myself, but he always did. He always told me he thought I was strong, that I could do whatever I wanted to if I just tried…" as his nose started to dribble, he paused to wipe it on the arm of his sleeve"…now that he's gone, I don't know what to think or do and it's just hard. Lot's of people think it's stupid, but if he's not here telling me I'm good enough I just don't…I feel lost too." Conner's voice was broken now, and was almost like a whimper, it was impossible for the blind boy to not know he was crying, "That's how I know how you feel, because I needed him too."
His body felt cold, goose bumps were running up and down his arms. For the first time in a long time, he's finally let himself feel the loneliness and ache he's been fighting. All this time he wanted to just keep it inside and just be angry, but all he wanted was to just feel this sadness. But it was hard, having to remember these feelings and remembering. The emotions brought a sickly tug at his stomach and he wanted to puke. Just when he was about to feel like shriveling up and disappearing warmth surrounded him. It was a hum like sensation that enveloped him from the inside out. It was Richard. As he sat there hugging his knees, the young teen stood behind him. His arms wrapped around him with tears in his eyes as well burying his face in the crook of his neck. What was this feeling growing in Conner?
"We can both be lost, and then neither of us has to be alone."
It was like holding an empty cup for so long, and someone finally filled it for him, for both of them.
"Thankyou." He knew what this feeling was, how could he ever forget? It was warm, it was nice, so familiar…
For hours on end in the chilly air and changing sky, they sat there together into the dawn: mourning the person they had lost, cherishing the one they have discovered. Never in his life had Conner felt anything like this since his dad died: he felt right.
Monday morning, Megan was in for a shock when Conner flat out refused to skip out on tutoring. In fact, from that point on he refused to skip out at all ever again. They barely got time together anymore. During the school day he did at least try to find the little time he could to spend with her, but for Megan it wasn't enough. She felt neglected. She cried, she complained to Wally, but to no avail, her tries were useless:
"But Conner, I never see you anymore!"
"I can't ditch Megan, you're just going to have to deal with it."
"What could I have done wrong…"
Although he was beginning to have relationship issues with his girlfriend he had been having less problems with football. After realizing he needed to take his own advice on life, he decided to start believing in himself more and trusting in his own leadership. He even had the balls to tell West to close his mouth and sit out on the bench. Coach had no complaints since they won the big game. The red head however was not happy, not one bit. Or traught, as Dick would say:
"Kent, you think you're hot stuff, but Dude, you totally aren't."
"West. Shut up."
Conner's grades were also going up alongside his newfound confidence. He was having an easier time in math, and he felt less stressed out. He felt like he could go back to the farm without feeling guilty about his scholarship, and he felt he could actually start comprehending the work with less and less help from Dick each time. Of course, he would never let the boy know that. He still enjoyed the time he got with him. That's not to say they still confined their friendship to their tutoring sessions. After Dick's disastrous birthday, Conner took it upon himself to take him out to dinner in public, and he even invited him to the big Kent family reunion during Thanksgiving. Dick happily accepted:
"That sounds awesome, is it during the day?"
"Yeah, we always play football and Ma makes this huge meal with Kara."
"Then you think you wanna come over to my place at night for Alfred's feast?"
"Yeah, sounds good."
They were getting stares in public. Rumors were starting to fly. Megan and Wally were always making a fuss more than usual. But Conner didn't care, he was actually really happy. He hadn't been this happy for a long time. Having a friend like Dick who understood him was all he needed. With that boy around he could do better at sports, feel like he was good enough, and managed to raise his math grade to a 'B'. Things were really looking up, but for how long?:
"Dick, I need to talk to you."
"What now Wally?"
Author's Note: Alright...I hope that cleared up loads of questions you guys have been asking for a long time...please review and let me know what you think! I reply to all questions and comments and I always love to hear what you have to say! Like I said before, I like chatting it up so please review and let me know your thoughts! Thankyou for reading!
