Catching Icarus

Chapter 2: Explanations

Nobody spoke for what felt like eons, broken only by the appearance of the rest of the Justice League's. Flash—Wally and Hawkwoman intercepted them before they enter the room as well, locking the door behind them. Leaving Superboy alone in the room with red light, he heard their muffled voices speaking from the other side of the door. But couldn't pick out what they were saying. His hearing deadened by the lights he was under.

Superboy hugged his knees tightly as he tried to process what he saw. The man calling himself was undoubted Wally.

Time travel? Wally looked in his late twenties but Black Canary and Hawkwoman looked just as young as ever. Another spell of Felix Faust's that only effected Wally? But where was the original Flash? The other partners? Was something warping everyone's perception of him like it was Superboy?

But Superboy instinctively knew that couldn't be the case. He had been so obsessed with the idea of getting everyone to remember him he hasn't taken a second to think. Now that he has a moment to breathe, too many details weren't adding up. He noticed that not only Hawkwoman changed her costume, Batman had too. Black Canary's hair was longer, wavier. It would take time for that growth, but not enough to explain Wally.

And besides the slight physical details, why was he in the Watchtower in the first place? It was the league's sacred base. They didn't even let their partners know about it's existence much less board it. Why would they let a Kryptonian clone they didn't trust onto it so easily? Mount Justice or the Hall would be far more secure for him.

Superboy froze as realization coiled around him tightly like a snake.

This wasn't his Justice League.

The funhouse mirrors left him locked in the red light room for hours. He doesn't sleep, far too dangerous to close his eyes here surrounded by enemies. Any of his super abilities long having been sapped away. Superboy cursed himself for ever going along with the fake Superman.

The door opened and the Batman who was not Batman entered.

"Come with me," he ordered.

Superboy held back a snarl at the man who commanded him. Getting out of this room of poisonous light was his first priority, then getting out of this rotten base.

And then he could go home.

He followed Batman out of the room to see the fake Superman waiting in the hallway with a expectant expression. The windows of the bridge all closed to prevent Superboy from seeing proper sunlight. Looking at the man, it's all Superboy could do to not punch himself for ever falling for the forgery in front of him. When had Superman ever managed to make eye contact with him before? When had he ever managed to stay within five feet of him?

"Good morning, Superboy," the Doppelganger said with a warm smile.

Superboy turned away.

His face fell, and the not-Batman pushed him onward until he reached a barren room sans a small table and two steel chairs. A two sided mirror on the wall. If his vision was active he's certain he'd be able see who was on the other side. The Batman gestured him to take a seat while fake-Superman went elsewhere, probably to observe from the other side of the glass.

As he took a seat, the older man mirrors him and cleared his throat. "I'm going to ask you a few questions," said the Batman. His voice is kinder than the previous night but still more distant than he was used to.

Superboy grunted. Glad for once for his lack of knowledge outside of Cadmus and the mountain. If Felix Faust's copy thought it could get something useful out of him. It was sadly mistaken.

"What is your name?"

"Superboy."

"You said you're Superman's clone. Who created you?"

"Cadmus."

He raised a eyebrow in confusion, unsure of Faust's game as the fake Batman pursed his lip in confusion. Why was he distracting him with all these softball questions? His existence as a clone was easy information to gather at this point.

"Explain to me as simply as possible what happened last night. Before Superman brought you."

And so he did. Of his mission, of the league, of Felix Faust, of Morgan Le Faye and of the blast that transported him here. Whatever he had to let the wizard think he was compliant so he could finally escape.

Batman continued to ask follow up questions. Stuff Superboy didn't even know in the first place and told him such.

As he spoke, he felt something in the direction of the mirror. It's minuscule but he felt a familiar tug in his head. And instantly he's on alert.

"Get out," Superboy barked. Focusing directly at the opaque glass, springing into a standing position, surprising the Batman into doing the same.

He was a fool, understanding the barrage of pointless questions. Felix was just waiting for him to get his guard down. To get into mind like so many others.

"Get out of my head!" He repeated but the tug only seemed to pull harder at his brain in response. Cupping his head as his voice increased in volume as he tried desperately to push out the foreign invader. The closed room feels suddenly tight and small. And it felt like he was in Cadmus' lower floors all over again. "Get out! Get out! Get out! I won't let you!"

The fake Batman said something but Superboy could not hear him, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he focused all his energy on the trespasser.

M'gann's touch was light. Lighter than any psychic he encountered—a gentle caress over the crawling sensations of spiders he felt when they entered his mind. Even his brothers who has done their best to be gentle had felt like locusts buzzing through his brain. The invader was no different.

He felt lightheaded as he took large gulps of air to ease his now suddenly burning lungs but it refused to accept it.

"Get out!" He said hitting the glass that separated him from his attacker, the impact bruises him but he continued desperately to get at his unseen opponent.

"Superboy! Stop it!" Batman yelled.

"Get out!"

He felt a sharp prick and looked down to see a needle in his side, implanted by the man he turned his back on.

And then oblivion.

"He knew your name?" Bruce asked lowly as Flash blocked the door holding the clone from the rest of the league who had finally arrived. Clark thought it was pointless, the door was soundproof and at this much exposure, Superboy's enhanced hearing was gone for sure.

Wally nodded. "He thought I was sixteen and that I gave myself powers to be like my uncle. Guys, my uncle isn't a metahuman. He died on the job when I was in high school. He kept saying he was my friend. And"

"He called me Hawkwoman, not Hawkgirl." Shayera added looking at the others firmly. "He said I changed my costume."

The sentence triggered something in the man of steel. A flash of a monster with his face in a black and white suit appeared in his head.

Superboy had felt strangely over familiar with him. Declaring that the whole league had forgotten him, that he had fought a dead man at the Metropolis museum. Clark had checked and the building had been nothing but peaceful.

Clark had briefly entertained the thought that maybe the boy was right. That this was a cruel trick by Mxyzptlk or another reality warper to trick or punish them. But the boy's knowledge did not add up for that to be a possibility.

But that wouldn't apply if he wasn't talking about this Justice league.

"Do we have another Justice Lord situation?" Wally half whispered catching onto everyone else in horror. "I don't want to fight a kid. Even if he's a evil one."

"Flash," Diana admonished. "He's a child. Don't assume the worst."

"He's being realistic," Bruce said, always the optimist. His expression equally as miserable as the Flash. "Our last encounter with someone from a parallel universe wound up with Shayera in the hospital and us imprisoned because we took pity on them. We can't assume he's any safer."

"There can be a infinite amount of universes. We can't assume each one is evil," Diana said.

"Yes, we shouldn't blame a child for another's errors," J'onn agreed.

"I think I spooked him pretty bad," Wally said. "Maybe just let him sleep it off and interrogate him in the morning? Not like a few hours will make a big difference. He's kind of trapped.

Bruce grunted. The closest equivalent of a yes, he'd get from the dark knight.

The crowd dispersed and Clark took one last look at the room, x-raying through the door to see the boy's sullen expression before leaving.

He does not sleep that night.

Clark had known as soon as he saw him that leaving Superboy in the red sun room overnight was a mistake. Whatever little trust he had gotten the previous night had evaporated, the boy's glares are harsh and piercing. His arms crossed defensively, reminding him of a wounded animal.

Was this the first time he experienced power loss? He must have be terrified.

"Good morning, Superboy," he said in his kindest voice. And the boy immediately looked away with a frown.

Bruce, determined as ever urged the boy forward while Clark went into the side room where J'onn was already waiting.

The Martian would quietly sneak into his mind while Bruce distracted him. Exonerate him and leave with the boy none the wiser. And they would be able to move on from there.

"Are you sure he's not Batman's clone?" J'onn said wryly, as the boy slumped in his seat. Glaring at the dark knight.

Clark ruffled at the remark.

"What is your name?"

"Superboy."

Clark briefly wondered what the boy's real name was. What the other Superman decided. He always imagined naming any child he was responsible for after his father, Jonathan. But then again would it be proper for a clone to be given even a hand-me-down name? Something unique would probably be more sensible, instead of giving the boy more legacy to deal with.

But then who even knew if the other Superman was adopted by the Kents in the first place. The other Superman might have lived a whole different life from Clark's.

Parallel universes were a headache like that.

Batman continued to ask for questions and the boy went into how he was made by Cadmus. How he and his league were fighting Felix Faust, dropping names of a much smaller justice league. Filled with members who definitely were not in there own.

Zatara.

"Zatanna's father," J'onn helpfully supplied. "Zatanna said he was a ordinary stage magician."

Aquaman, who was a reservist on his most charitable days, a green lantern by the name of Hal Jordan and Captain Marvel.

That name hurt.

Clark had not seen hair no hide of the superhero since their fight at Lex's complex. The child hero staying firmly in Fawcett City after he scolded the league for their actions in response to Cadmus.

He wasn't wrong to say it.

Superboy continued on, unaware of his reverie mentioning that he had taken the attack for his own universe's Superman.

And Clark wondered how terrified the other Superman must be. If Kara had ever done something as foolhardy to save him. He'd never be able to forgive himself. He still had nightmares of the injuries she had received while he was under the influence of Darkseid.

"I think he's relaxed enough," J'onn said, turning his attention to the teenage clone. Superboy who was completely focused on the dark knight, his red eyes gaining a bright yellow glow.

Superboy's eyes swiveled towards J'onn with such accuracy, Clark would have guessed he still had his supervision.

"Get out," he yelled, moving into a standing position, jolting Batman to do the same.

And Clark immediately realized they made a terrible mistake.

"Get out of my head!" The boy roared, palming his head in a apparent effort to push the Martian out. His heart rate skyrocketing as he chanted,"Get out! Get out! Get out! I won't let you!"

"Superboy, it's alright," Bruce said, trying to calm the child down as he did so many others. "You're safe. It's alright."

But he was ignored.

"J'onn," he said urgently.

But J'onn did not hear him, he wasn't there. Clark tried to shake him, but he didn't respond, causing Clark to curse under his breath. As he continued to try to get the attention of the Martian.

Superboy's heart rate continues to climb as he started to hyperventilate. For a brief moment, Clark is afraid the boy would have a heart attack. The boy turned his attention to the glass and he started to pound against it. Doing his best to get his way to J'onn. It was futile, the glass was meant to be strong enough for even the members with super strength to not to be able shatter it.

But the clone doesn't care. Attacking with all the ferocity of a cornered animal. He hit the glass repeatedly and Clark distinctly heard the sound of breaking bones. As Superboy continues to punch the glass, his skin tearing and blood splattering against the glass from the ferocity of his blows. His eyes wide and feral as he continued to yell for J'onn to leave his head.

Blind to the rest of the world, Bruce managed to sneak up behind him and inject him with a sedative he had kept in his utility belt.

Clark watched the boy slumped against the glass, and sped back into the room before he could hit the ground. Placing the unconscious teen into one of the free chairs, leaning his head against the table.

"That went well," Bruce said drily.

J'onn, the silent observer phased through the glass. Superboy's lack of consciousness apparently enough to bring the Martian back to the world of the living.

"He broke his hand," Bruce said observing the limp teenager's now bloody appendage. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out medical tape, wrapping up the wound of the unresponsive child. Turning his attention to J'onn. "Did you at least get anything useful?"

"I sensed a lot of psychic activity within him."

"Psychic activity?"

"Psychics leave echoes when they enter people's minds. They fade away with time but there is always a faint footprint of their presence. It's what I look for when I search for mental manipulation." J'onn clarified.

"And the boy?"

"I felt a cacophony of psychic influences within him. Dozens, hundreds. I lost track trying to even find where he begun . Even among my people I've never seen so many influences in one's mind. "J'onn said grimly. "I can only describe it as a form of abuse."

Clark caressed his sleeping face in sympathy. No wonder the boy had a panic attack. How much must he have suffered before arriving here.

"Fantastic. Five minutes and we activated his trigger," Bruce said with a frown. "Did you at least find anything useful?"

"He wasn't lying about how he wound up here," J'onn said. "I did not sense any malice or darkness in the boy either."

That was suddenly very little comfort to Clark. They had proven the child was innocent and terrified him of the league in the process because they had decided to not simply tell him what they were doing. He wondered briefly how the other Superman would look at him after what he did to Superboy. He could have never seen anyone who drove Kara to such dire straights as trustworthy. Captain Marvel's chastisement rings in his ears.

"You don't act like heroes anymore."

Superboy awoke to the numb sensation of his right hand and looked down to see a cast immobilizing it. He tried miserably to move his digits and was rewarded with a wave of pain. The cause of the injury flooding back to him. He cursed himself, and can almost hear Black Canary's voice chastising him for having turned his back against an opponent. His body felt like a heavy sack of sand, from the sedative, and could barely move from his spot on the bed.

At least he didn't have those nauseating red lights making things worse.

"This was the room with the best view of the sun," Superman's voice chimed in as he entered the room. He pointed to the open window where the Star looked so close, Superboy could almost touch it. It would be blinding for anyone who didn't have Supervision, which alerted the clone to his returned powers. Superman—the false one, Superboy corrected. "If you're anything like me. Your hand will heal up in a day under it."

He had no idea why Felix was doing this illusion anymore. Unconscious, he was easy pickings for any psychic he had worth their ilk. Any information he had was probably long accessed.

"You went in my head," he accused miserably. But was able to do little else.

"I'm sorry," the copy said in what attempted to be sincerity but Superman didn't apologize. At least Superman never apologized to him. "We had no idea—you have to believe if we knew of your history with psychics we never would have tried that. You were right to get angry. It's not a defense I know. It's just the last time we had a visitor like you. It didn't go so great. A friend of ours got very hurt. And we were scared to go through that again."

"A visitor like me?" He repeated, angry at the man for talking past him. Like he understood their stupid games. "What are you talking about? You and Faust aren't going to trick me."

Superman slapped his head in apparent realization. "Oh, Rao. We were so busy thinking about what you might do. We forgot to consider what you must be thinking. Superboy, this isn't a trick by Faust. I promise you that."

"Superboy, the reason no one remembers you and why things are so different. It's not because Faust did a spell on you…Well he did but not the one you think."

"You're babbling."

"Sorry. Sorry."

"Superboy," Superman said with that eerily gentle tone that he reserved for everyone but him. "Faust didn't just transport you from the Museum to the warehouse. He transported you far further than that. This isn't your world."

Multiverse theory. His Cadmus education helpfully supplied at the prompt. That there were infinite branching universe from every single decision that one made.

It was supposed to be a theory at least. It did explain the past day at least. And why this Superman was looking at him at least.

Superman pushed on unaware of his effect on the clone, placing a hand gently on his knee. "We can't apologize enough, we know. We never should have put you through that. But we can promise we'll do our best to bring you home.

The contact made his blood boil. It wasn't fair that it was this Superman touching him.

Superboy wanted to spit out he didn't want their apologies. They. Broke, Into, His. Head. They weren't M'gann, who didn't understand social norms. They had violated him willingly. He didn't want anything to do with this league. He wanted to free of this space prison that reminded him of Cadmus with every passing second. And go find his own way back.

But he bit his tongue. A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Kaldur telling him to calm down. He couldn't set fire to the bridges they were offering. He had no experience with magic or this world. And these people were at least offering to get him home. And even if he didn't like them, they were probably his only path to get back to his own universe.

"Okay," he said finally, ignoring the suddenly bright expression on Superman, the uncanny valley of his expressions made him itch.

It's not like he had any other choice.

End Chapter

Edited the chapter to make the end flow a bit better. Felt a bit abrupt in hindsight.

Think this is like about a three-five chapter story? Something actively smaller than All We Know.

So this was a fucking lie.

Rewrote J'onn and Superboy's encounter a million times. Until the angst version went out.

Next chapter is Superboy, properly interacting with the league.

To new readers who want more Superboy/Clark try it out.

All We Know of Love