A/N: Okay, I am the worst person in the world. One, I haven't updated in forever. Two, I have not been keeping up with Young Justice and did not even realize there was a second season out until the seventh episode. So I was basically thinking "well, I'm fucked." Three, I suck at tenses. All my teachers have told me this and so have my reviewers.

This is my favorite chapter to write. No joke. It's like a really good Kpop comeback. I will not accept flames for this chapter. No. Sorry. Not happening. Flame my other stories if you want to. I have three more chapters to go. Flame those. For goodness' sakes, flame me. This chapter is the shizz.

Pairing: AqualadxSuperboy

Chapter 11: Despite where our paths mark out

If given the choice between the fate of the world, and the fate of a single relationship (the most beautiful, wonderful thing that has ever happen to him), a good leader will choose the former.

Kaldur is not naïve or disillusion enough to believe he is a good leader. Robin (Nightwing, he corrects himself. They'll be getting a new Robin soon, but Kaldur does not think much of it. They will only be acquaintances on the battlefield for a short period of time. It is a thought he chokes back because it is a thought that means he has already made his decision) confirmed this when Kaldur tried to sacrifice himself again for his team (it was a sacrifice he wishes to forget, not because he regretted the action, but because it led to that discovery-). Kaldur is not hurt by the statement, in fact, he welcomes it. If he is not a leader, he does not have to make the choices of a leader.

That is why Kaldur is here, with Connor (the love his life, his pearl, his other half) instead of giving an answer to Nightwing. That is why Kaldur is talking to Connor instead of chatting with Black Canary about his familial abnormalities (He refuse to concede to the idea that he had 'issues' to 'work out'. He will explain this to her. That man is not his father. That man did not raise him. Calvin Durham was-is his father. His king did not lie to him. An omission of truth is not a lie. He knows this.)

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be with his boyfriend. There is nothing wrong with wanting to spend every waking and sleeping moment with him instead of other people (he is not avoiding anybody. Young men avoid their families all the time in favor of their lovers. He is not ignoring a message from his king. The king just wants to make sure he is alright. It is not important. He wants to clear the water. Everything is fine. Connor is simply more significant. Why would he trade a second with his lover for one with those lying pieces of-)

"Kaldur?" Connor asks apprehensively. His voice full of worry (enough to snap Kaldur out of his loathing for a second, a mere second). "Are you alright?"

Kaldur smiles, kind as ever with a familiar (false) serenity. It will not reassure Connor, and for some reason, he did not expect it to. They both knew the truth, but Kaldur continue to deny it. He is alright.

Kaldur is not alright. He has not been alright since he found out. About Black Manta. About M'gann and Artemis. About his parents. About his king. About every single lie he's ever been fucking told-

"As long as I have you," Kaldur tells him after a little kiss to his naked back, "I have nothing to fear."

Connor does not believe him. (So astute, my love) They lie in bed after another round of rough lovemaking (sex, fucking, and other disgusting terms Kaldur sometimes uses in their rougher moods. But it is different. Before, no matter how provocative the terms, they are nonetheless filled with love. Tonight is different. Tonight, he uses the act in a revolting manner. He uses it to forget instead of connecting with Connor, the only one who has never lied. The only one who truly cares. He is disgusting and tonight, he is more repulsive than ever because it does not matter to him where he gets the distraction.) Connor turns to give Kaldur a doubtful look. He has always been perceptive when it came to the people he cared about, and Connor definitely cared about him. (Not love, he sneers to himself. Never loves.) But Connor should believe him. He can conquer the world as long as Connor is by his side. He needs Connor. He needs him like he needs water. He is his water.

Connor loves him, he tries to convince himself. He doesn't say it out loud because he's scared. He is scared that they will break up. Not everybody can be as happy as Dick and Wally. Some of them might end up like-

"I am fine," he tries again, more convincingly this time. Kaldur ran his hands down Connor's back adoringly, worshiping the flesh beneath his webbed palms. He kisses the spots he thinks he misses again and again, committing them to memory. Finally, he looks away, as if he's contemplating a new ritual for reverence.

"What are you doing?" Connor asks with a small grin, the first real smile of the night.

Smile again and you will have me on your knees, my love.

Kaldur breathes in Connor's scent for a second, and then for another. Finally, he made his request. "Can you do something for me?"

Kaldur does not understand many land dwellers' traditions. He has to admit, though, that out of all of their strange customs, the desire to print their bodies with pictures and calligraphy to be the most difficult to comprehend. Some people did it out of affection for a loved one (primarily their mother), while others did it to commemorate a special event. Some did it for a passing infatuation, and there were a number of individuals who do it to single themselves out (though he did not see the logic in that last comment when there were so many out there with body art).

Kaldur received his first tattoo following his battle with the Ocean Master alongside his best friend, Garth (traitorous bastard that stole his first love. He forgave him, of course, because it led him into the arms of Connor). He took on another when he accomplished his first advance spell under Queen Mera's tutelage. Most after that were battle necessities. The tattoos were invaluable in times of conflict, and provide instant access to the spells he needed for disabling his enemies.

"Anything," Connor tells him automatically. No contemplation. No further thoughts. Despite the hidden nature of the request, Connor never hesitates to comply when it matters.

It is almost enough to make him cry, because Kaldur deserved that trust once, but he soon will not. He is going to lose it, just like he is going to lose him.

"Let me give you a tattoo," Kaldur tells him softly, removing his hands from Connor's back to wrapping it around his chest.

Connor eyebrows' peaks at the request. "Why?"

For all of Kaldur's composure, a piece of him broke at the thought of Connor's rejection. "Will you refuse me, Connor?"

Connor can hear the disappointment in his tone. The bitterness is obvious to anybody, most of all to someone who knows him so well, to someone who can hear his pounding heart and shallow breaths.

"No, I'm just curious why. You never showed any interest in branding me before. Well, except when you bite me," Connor jokes.

Wrong, Connor, but not a lie. He has always wanted this, or something like this. He just did not know how prepared they were to do this.

"I want to give something that you will always remember me by. You may give me one as well. I already have a design plan for us, unless you would like to make your revisions."

Connor abruptly rebuffs his offer with a scoff, "I'm no artist. Anything you have in mind is good."

Kaldur nods in agreement, "I hope so too."

Because you need to remember me, Kaldur thinks possessively. When I am gone, I need to know that you will always have something permanent to keep near you. No trinkets or objects that can be destroyed.

With Connor's permission in his hands, Kaldur left to receive the supplies. He had all the proper paints and tools, but originally lacked the means to perform. According to Nightwing, Connor's skin was not as thick as Superman's but he will still need special treatment if he wishs to continue with his plan. Like his little prank so long ago, it was not hard to attain the right material, and with the help of Nightwing (who he begged, threatened, and finally blackmailed into agreeing. The boy turn man was truly a leader, willing to sacrifice Connor's body for a mission again. He could kill him. He should kill him.), he was able to procure the correct amount necessary to do the task without hurting Connor.

He warns Connor that unlike human tattoos, Atlantean artistry is truly permanent, and cannot go away with a simple laser. Both participants need to commit to removing it before it is truly gone, and even then there is still a mark. Connor seems more reluctant, but agrees none the less.

Kaldur is a horrible person because he knows what he is doing and does it anyway. He is using his own distress to trick Connor into a commitment he is not ready for, and Connor will agree because he always does when Kaldur is in pain. There is no need for secrecy, but he tells Connor that there is because Kaldur decides that for tonight, he is not a good man. There is another way to get it removed, but it is far too painful and Kaldur cannot handle it if Connor decides to have it gone. He will surely mess up the mission, and the world will not survive, so he lies.

The design intended is without embellishment or frivolity. The Kryptonian pentagon plays a solid frame for the overall design with the House of El (generously approved by Superman) stood inside. It was nearly identical to Superman's symbol, had it not been for Kaldur's own heritage fusing into the emblem. His family is not a noble one, but the apprenticeship awarded by King Odin has given him a position of faux nobility amongst Atlanteans. His symbol, consisted of a majestic sea creature wrapped around the Connor's sigil is protective, in contrast to the human's ideas of sea monsters treachery. The pentagon is made of crushed red coral while the beast is done with a rarer gem.

Kaldur knows the process of body art personally, and knows the pain involved. He had requested training from some of the most skilled Atlantean tattooists to teach him the proper etiquette to keep the process as painless as possible. Grabbing the tingling ointment of enchanted kelp and salt in his covered hands, he slathered the oozing mixture on Connor's body. The numbing effect would take some time to activate, and while he waited, Kaldur prepared the paints.

When he is ready, Kaldur lifts his first tool, a thin, delicate needle of fine craftsmanship if anyone cared to notice. The tip glows menacingly, and Kaldur hesitates (you are a good man, Kaldur. Do not do this. You are not ready, you stupid son of bitch-) for a moment, before laying its point on Connor's skin.

Connor does not scream like Kaldur did his first time. Kaldur is not surprised. Connor is stronger than him.

Too strong, Kaldur thinks with both pride and regret. Connor will survive without him, but Kaldur cannot live without Connor. Kaldur will spend the rest of his mission pining for Connor, and all his days and nights following it, if he survives. Connor will be moving on, becoming the person and hero he is meant to be. He may never forgive him. He may never love him-

He continues his masterpiece quickly and efficiently, in order not to drag the time and cause more pain, (for both of them, a voice in his head mocks. It is the sound of his true father's voice, and it is cruel and haunting. He is weak, and the voice reminds him of that). Each wince on Connor's back is mirrored by his own internal expression. His face, however, remains placcid and cold, and he shows no outward signs of anxiety. Connor notices this, and Kaldur can see a flicker of doubt in Connor's mind.

Good, Kaldur thinks, doubt makes the process so much easier.

Finally, Kaldur finishes. Connor breathes a sigh of relief, and is allowed to rest for the first time it what seemed like forever. The tattoo is still burning, Kaldur remembers that much from his own artwork, but it would fade away in time. He would add ointment, but the cream would ruin the fresh paint. As a comfort, Kaldur kisses around the brand, careful not to touch the actual mark. When Connor is resting, daze from the pain, Kaldur starts thinking. Worst of all, he starts remembering. They lie there for an hour, with thoughts running through their heads in a deathly silent room.

Perhaps it is the Kryptonian physiology, but sooner than expected, Connor is lucid enough to asks questions.

"Is this because of Black Manta?"

Yes, Kaldur told himself. He wanted to make sure that something was real. He needed to know that there was something in his life that was not a lie, someone that could not be corrupted by his king, his mother, his fucking father-

"No," he lied, with his eyes shimmering with false amusement. So little tact, he forced himself to think in mask of his deeper, darker thoughts. Kaldur, as a boyfriend, should be amused that his boyfriend thought there was something wrong (There was not anything wrong. Everything was wrong).

"Then, is it because of Artemis and M'gann?"

"…Yes," Kaldur replied with enough hesitation to sound truthful (he was lying again. He needed to stop lying. Connor could tell. He could always tell.) "I understand that their relationship was not perfect but to break it off so suddenly…was unfortunate. M'gann really loved Artemis."

"M'gann didn't give Artemis a choice," Superboy implied bitterly. No one knew much about the break up, except that Artemis had a change in heart and wanted to break away from the superhero business. Of course, there was a deeper reason behind the separation. Kid Flash had declared his early retirement months ago, and his relationship with Dick was as strong as ever. Superboy, however, had always been close to the girls, and was probably the only one to know the truth. Kaldur did not pry, though. M'gann and Artemis had a right to their own privacy.

They all had their secrets.

"So what did Nightwing want to talk to you about?"

Oh what did their precious, almighty leader ask of him? Do you want to know, beloved? Do you want to know how our perfect leader, who took everything away from me, wanted? Who I sacriface my position for, whom I trusted, desire me to do? Would you hate him as much as I do? Would you forgive him? Would you follow me?

"He wanted to know if I would acquise to a psychological examination and therapetic session since the discovery of my father's identity. Procedure, it was referred to. It is amazing how little faith he has in me."

Liar, Kaldur thought to himself. Nightwing has too much trust. Far too much trust. Leaders should not be so trusting. So much faith in just one man, and a man in love at that.

The not-explanation is not enough, but it will suffice for now. Connor does not think to ask, even though it is his last chance to do so. Kaldur lies down beside Connor, and with both eyes open, begins to dream.

"Do you love me, Connor?"

Connor is surprise at the question, though he does not know why. Kaldur has asked him many times, in subtext, in letters, but his query has always been filled with playfulness and a touch of longing. He has never inquired it with so much bitterness, so much doubt as he did now.

"Why is that so important?" Connor retorts defensively.

People often forget that humans, like all animals, are just that. They are animals, highly evolutionized creatures, but animals nonetheless. Why should aliens or clones of aliens be any different?

"Because I am sick of being the only one pouring my heart out and getting nothing in return," Kaldur replies with an icy maliciousness that shocks both of them. He feels his stomach turning, and can see the pain in Connor's eyes.

Kaldur is trapping Connor, confining him into a little corner and like any wild beast he will not submit or be placated by his fear. He will attack or hide or find a way to protect his self that does not depend on logic alone.

A lizard's tail breaks off in desperate need to escape a predator. Stone crabs regenerate their limbs after hunters rip them off their bodies. Bees sting their enemies to protect their queen at the cost of their lives.

So Connor avoids the question. He answers Kaldur vaguely, and while he does not say no, he doesn't say yes either. He denies any attachment that is concrete and while it kills Kaldur, Connor is still a jaded young man, scared of facing the fact that there is someone who loves him unconditionally without asking for anything in return.

"You know the answer to that," Connor replies grumpily, masking his internal guilt. He is hiding his true feelings, and both of them know it. But Kaldur does not push; this is the one thing he will never try to get from Connor. So instead, he laughs, bitterly and filled with sorrow, and it kills Connor a little bit.

Good, a dark voice in the crevice of his mind speaks. Kaldur stifles it, buries it alive in the very hole it comes from but it is too late. The damage is done.

The damage has been done, and Kaldur apologizes out of formality rather than forgiveness. "I'm sorry. It has been…a very stressful time for me. Forgive me. I just…I love you so much, Connor."

I love you too much. These words are unspoken, because if Kaldur says them out loud, Connor would suspect something, and Kaldur would tell him what happened. What Nightwing petitioned him to do, and what he would do. Connor is not a good liar, nor is he a good actor. Kaldur loves him too much, and that would jeopardize any chance they had at finding the Light.

Several months from now, a great battle would be held that would cause Kaldur to leave the team. Shortly after that, his father will find him soul-searching, seeking a solution to end his misery. Then, he will join him and the Light will test his loyalties. Finally, he will do something so horrible that will cause all his teammates to despise the very core of his being.

Kaldur is happy Connor couldn't say it. He is happy that Connor is too distrusting of the world to say the words that would have caused Kaldur to change his mind. He is happy (and disgusted with himself) that M'gann and Artemis's relationship has hit such a roadblock that it causes Connor to reevaluate the strength of their relationship. Nightwing had given him a choice, and had Connor been next to him, he would have made the wrong one. The selfish one. He is choosing the world over Connor, and he knew it is the right thing to do.

He just wishes it didn't hurt so much.

Let me say one thing: you girls are cray-cray. And I say girls because I doubt any guys are so aggressive about smut that they would do this. Seven years ago (when I first joined), it would have been weird for someone to send a message directly to a person's account and ridiculous for someone to send a message directly to a writer's email just for an update. I had both scenarios happen to me (though not by the same people and one was by a facebook friend I added but did not know). I love it. Thank you for making me feel special.