Unspoken
- - - August 12th - - -
"Excuse me, sir, may I have a few moments of your time?"
Batman was currently analysing a strange piece of technology that Superman had just dropped off after an intragalactic mission. He closed one of the applications on the computer screen before him, then rotated his desk chair to face her. Mary took that as a yes.
"I would like to talk to you about Superman and Superboy."
The Dark Knight's features remained motionless.
"It appears that several members of the Justice League believe that Superman should behave more like a father towards his clone."
Batman nodded once, confirming the statement.
"I disagree", she continued. "May I explain my reasoning?"
He nodded once more, still staying silent.
Mary pulled up one of the empty office chairs and sat down across from her employer.
"First of all, I does not make any sense biologically. Superboy is Superman's genetic twin, not his son, if one was looking for a family relation. I understand that there is an apparent age difference, but that could be the case just as well for brothers, or cousins, or uncle and nephew, or two random people with no family ties whatsoever. I think we should all leave it up to them to define their relationship in the way that makes most sense to them. And I really don't believe that calling themselves father and son would be a suitable choice for either of them."
Batman raised one eyebrow slightly.
"Well, on Superboy's side, I don't think he wants another authority figure in his life to make choices for him. He has a very strong preference for making his own decisions, and a natural aversion against being told what to do. And so far, he has proven to be a very independent, undemanding young man who can take care of himself just fine. He is finding his own place here."
The Dark Knight neither confirmed nor denied that.
"Regarding Superman, on the other hand, I can fully understand that he is shocked by suddenly being confronted with a sixteen-year-old whom people call his son."
Batman's eyebrow rose once more, stating the obvious question.
"Because he has not fathered him!", Mary explained. "I might be old-fashioned here, but to me, that general assumption presents quite an accusation. When a man is confronted with a nearly grown-up son he never met before, that normally implies that he was careless with a woman he never meant to marry, that he knowingly or unknowingly abandoned a pregnant girl, that he neglected to provide for his own child, failed to contribute to his care and education, missed the chance the see his son grow up. That is what people would think, if Superboy was suddenly introduced to the public as Superman's adolescent son. There would be predefined roles, and public expectation, and none of them would take the special circumstances or both of their individual characters into account."
She knew well that 'having a father' had a very different connotation at Wayne Manor, to the point where the seemingly unapproachable Batman had actually adopted his protégé Robin legally. She respected that, but in this specific case, it meant that Batman was uncommonly biased.
"I am not saying it is right that Superman is ignoring Superboy entirely. He does have a duty to the boy. Not because someone stole a sample of his DNA and they happen to look alike. But because Superman is the only man on this Earth who can help Superboy figure out his powers. They are both Kryptonians. The only Kryptonians in this galaxy, if I understand that correctly. Maybe they can help each other find out more about their heritage, their abilities, their limits - there must be things that even Superman has never been able to try out alone. This could be a great chance for both of them, if they actually got to know each other…"
Mary's voice trailed off.
Batman glanced back at his screen.
"Done?", he asked.
She nodded.
Batman returned his attention to his computer. It was obvious he was not planning to reply to her speech.
He did not have to.
"Thank you for listening", Mary concluded, referring to all three of her addressees.
Down in the cave's common area, Superboy was staring at his stone wall more intently than ever.
"So you're not only ignoring me because I was meant to fight you?", he asked the bare stones, his voice barely audible – to human or Martian ears, at least.
High above the clouds, Superman searched for an answer, but could not find the words.
When Megan served dinner, Superboy was still staring at the living room wall.
Megan suppressed a sigh. At least he was not watching static noise on the TV again.
She set the pot of pasta onto the counter and started laying out plates and cutlery. Spaghetti and fried mushrooms with parmesan cheese, a bit of fruit salad for dessert – a simple meal, but she was proud of it. After more than a month on Earth, she had finally managed to prepare a decent dinner without Mary's help – nothing burnt, no broken dishes, no cereals or spices strewn across the kitchen floor… And she had even cut out all the brown spots from the apples and pears which she had dropped during telekinetic coordination training before dicing them up for the salad.
Mary had left together with Batman two hours ago, to spend the evening with her elusive mentor in Gotham.
Which meant that Megan and Superboy were alone in the cave tonight.
Except for Red Tornado. But he didn't really count, did he?
Being alone with Superboy was… well, a bit frustrating, actually.
He just wouldn't talk.
She could feel that Superboy was upset about something. She was not reading his mind, of course, even though it was terribly hard to resist. His raw emotions practically radiated off him.
He had also been starring at that wall for three hours straight – that might have been a hint as well.
He was brooding.
How she wished he would finally open up to her. Tell her about his thoughts, his anger, his sorrows.
Tell her anything, really.
Why wouldn't he talk?
Why didn't he want to talk to her?
He was still sitting there, immobile, facing the wall. There was a tension in the line of his jaw, in his strong neck and those broad, muscular shoulders, accentuated perfectly through that black t-shirt that only underscored his masculine physique… How she longed to just approach him, to gently stroke his head, softly trail her fingers through that wavy mess of dark hair, tell him it would be okay, that he was not truly alone, that he did not have to be so lonely…
Pull yourself together, Megan, you're being embarrassing. Again.
Stop staring at him. He knows you have been starring at him. He can hear every move you make, and you haven't moved since you started admiring his body.
His gorgeous body...
"Dinner is ready", she called out.
Superboy stood up from the couch wordlessly.
Don't blush just because he is approaching!
Megan averted her eyes. Sometimes it paid off to have so much practice in controlling her skin colour.
He sat down next to her.
"Would you like some pasta?", she asked.
He nodded.
Not even a simple 'yes'.
She filled his plate first, then her own.
Okay, one more attempt.
"Anything you want to talk about?"
He shook his head.
What else had she expected? She'd asked him every day.
Yet it still hurt.
They ate in silence.
This was ridiculous. She was making a fool out of herself. He might be gorgeous, but he was clearly not interested in her. They were nothing but team mates, they were barely even friends.
Stop day-dreaming about him. He doesn't like it when you talk to him. He barely tolerates you even when you do respect his silence. Three words, that's all you'll get from him tonight.
Get over it, Megan. He'll never be your Connor Manly.
Get over him.
Superboy finished his pasta.
He ate the fruit salad.
He lowered his spoon.
Megan started gathering the dishes.
"Thanks for dinner", he said.
Three words, as always when it was her turn to make a meal.
"You're welcome", she replied.
She levitated the plates into the dishwasher, expecting him to return to the couch.
He didn't.
Instead, he kept looking at her with those piercing blue eyes.
"You want to go swimming?", he asked.
She stared at him, her heart suddenly racing.
"Swimming? Now?", she stammered. "With me?"
He shrugged. "Yeah."
"Well, yes, of course! It's still warm out. I'll need my swim suit, though. Hello, Megan! I can just shift my bio-clothes into a swim suit. But I'll need a towel. Should I go grab two towels?"
He nodded, and smiled.
He had the most amazing smile in the world.
Megan turned around and fled from the kitchen, certain that he would hear her pounding heart echoing all throughout the cave.
Which, of course, he did.
Author's note:
This chapter is uploaded early as a thank you for my very first meaningful reviewer, dimensionholder!
Sorry about Mary's long monologue here. I just couldn't resist. We'll hear Superman's answer eventually.
All reviews are cherished! I'm sure you'll find the words...