Rating: T
Where else can I find this story? All five parts are on the first page of Part 5 of the original Young Justice Anon Meme on LiveJournal.
Summary: Lex Luthor is in prison, and Superboy is given a mission to protect the man who put him there: Clark Kent. But what Conner doesn't know... (Part V of Masks, from the Anon Meme).
Author's Notes: This is the final installment of Masks. As you'll see, it sort of got away from me, but I love how it came out. I hope you will too. I do suggest, if you haven't already that you read, at a minimum, my stories Red and Green and Present, both of which are available on my profile. This story diverges quite a lot form canon and follows those stories. The events of Red and Green are particularly important (Present explains how Conner and M'gann got together and why Conner's name isn't Conner Kent in this storyverse. It also has some character development, but it's not as crucial as Red and Green. I'd still suggest you read it).
With regards to the show, this episode takes as canon the episodes before the first trip to Bialya, and parts of that particular episode, but not all of it.
This is an edit/cross-post, so please bear in mind that this story started a really long time ago (May of 2011), so a lot of it differs from canon. But, on the plus side, you have no need to fear that this might become a dead fic, because I've already finished it.
Hero
Masks, Part V
Chapter 1: Luthor Dethroned
Robin rides the R-Cycle at top speed right through the zeta-beam port, which Batman has told him not to do about a hundred times. He jumps off the bike and runs into the TV room. "Turn on MNN! Turn on MNN!"
They're watching an old Godzilla movie, and Wally protests. "Metropolis News Network, really Rob?"
But Robin takes a remote from his utility belt and switches the channel to MNN over Wally's protests, but Wally shuts up as soon as he sees the news. Lex Luthor's scowling face is plastered across the screen and Conner flinches back reflexively. A female newsanchor is providing commentary: "Lex Luthor has been arrested…"
Whatever she says that follows is a blur to Conner, he can no longer pay attention to her words, rather he's fixated on seeing the scene unfold. The image zooms out, Luthor is wearing a perfectly tailored suit, but his tie is ruffled. His hands are tied behind his back and two police men are escorting him from the entrance to LexCorpTower to a police car. Police tape lines the path to the car, and people are crowded along it. They have microphones and cameras—lights are flashing. A mousy-looking man with glasses pushes a voice recorder in Luthor's face, over the police tape: "Comment, Mr. Luthor?" he asks with deep civility.
Luthor looks up, his eyes meet with the blue eyes behind the glasses, "You," he snarls, and his face turns into something so vehemently ugly that Conner finds himself trying to sink into the couch. Then Luthor manages to break free from the police and lunges towards the man in the glasses, going over the tape, into the crowd, and knocking him into the ground. Rage flashes across the face, and something about that look clashes with the glasses. The man pushes Luthor off him and gets up. Before the police can get Luthor, he tries to lunge again, so the man in the glasses punches Luthor in the jaw, making Luthor fall to the ground. Luthor doesn't get up right away and the police rush to see that he's ok. He seems to be mostly, ok, aside from a split lip and a dislocated jaw. One of the officers looks at the man with the glasses, who raises his hands and says "You saw it officers, self defense." The cop smiles and nods. Luthor's eyes are dazed, and the trip to the car continues without incident. A red-headed young boy with a camera turns to the man who just punched Luthor, "Wow CK, that's quite a right hook you got there."
"Oh," CK blinks. "I guess I've been working out… Don't know my own strength."
"And Smallville, Luthor makes you angry," a gorgeous woman pokes CK/Smallville with her pencil.
CK/Smallville scowls almost imperceptibly, then smiles, "I guess."
"Yeah, well, don't smile at me. I'm still mad."
Robin giggles his creepy little laugh. "Someone's going to be in the doghouse. Plus, I know someone else who's not going to be all that happy with that stunt you just pulled."
Conner doesn't know what Robin's talking about. But he does know this: whoever this CK/Smallville guy is, he likes him.
Once the broadcast starts to get boring, Artemis interrupts, "But I thought Luthor was untouchable?"
Robin smirks. "I come bearing gifts."
He runs out, heading towards his bike. When he comes back, he's carrying a stack of newspapers.
"Dude," Wally starts skeptically, "Weren't you just telling me about how paper is dead?"
Robin smirks and hands a paper to Wally. "I thought this would make a better souvenir."
Robin passes the papers out, he hands the last one to Conner. It's the Daily Planet. Written in big black letters, the headline screams: "Luthor Dethroned," and then, below that in just slightly smaller letters: "Luthor Funds Terrorism, Engages in Foreign Corruption, Behind Attempted Wayne Assassination, Among Other Crimes." There's a big picture of Luthor being standing in front of the Metropolis skyline. The byline reads, "By Clark Kent" and suddenly it clicks: Conner knows who CK is. Clark Kent from Smallville; the woman must be Lois Lane—they wrote the biography on Jor-El that Artemis bought him for his birthday.
He's read that book over and over—the spine has almost fallen off. The tragic tale of a man, the greatest of his age, who foresaw calamity and was powerless to stop it, but who loved his son so much that he was willing to die to save him. Lane and Kent's words had ensorcelled him there. It had been the first book he'd ever owned, the first book he'd ever read, and the first book he'd ever devoured. By telling the tale of his lineage (and Conner likes to think that there was so much love in Jor-El and Lara's hearts that they would have loved him too, even if Superman can't), Kent and Lane taught him to love the written word.
Here again Kent's words ensorcel him. There isn't the same craft to the language, perhaps Lane shining by her absence, but what there is is a meticulously researched exposé of criminal activities. The article goes on for pages: it tells two stories. The one on the surface is that of Luthor: it chronicles the depravity of a man with too much power—all the power in the world in fact, congealed into little green pieces of paper and a little green rock. And then, beneath that, unwritten, is the story of Clark Kent, just a mild-mannered reporter, a David who took on Goliath. Conner can see the work that's gone into taking Luthor down—months, maybe even years of digging and digging. Kent has given all the evidence he's unearthed over to the police—that's why Luthor was arrested. That's why Luthor lunged at Kent so angrily. A shudder goes through Connor, because Kent must be the bravest person in the world; just a normal man, to take on the Master of Metropolis. Luthor could probably kill Superman, and Kent took him on without a mask or sobriquet.
Connor wonders if Kent knows what he's done to himself, because Connor is pretty sure that Luthor will stop at nothing to destroy him now, especially after the punch. And Kent, Kent isn't made of steel. A bullet to the head will put him right out.
Wally pulls him out of his reverie.
"So, like, how long do you think they'll put him away for?" Wally asks.
Robin laughs, a real laugh, and like Batman's laugh, it sends shivers up Conner's spine. "Wally, Luthor's going to be indicted on charges of funding terrorism. Batman's looked at Kent's evidence; it's so airtight not even the best defense lawyers from Harvard and Yale could possibly get Luthor off. Funding terrorism is treason—Luthor's going to get the chair. It'll take years—Luthor's lawyers are going to pull up all the stops, he'll exhaust every appeal, probably spend half his fortune trying to get the law changed, but the Supreme Court is pretty consistent: capital punishment is constitutional, and I don't think anyone is going to be too interested in changing that for Luthor."
"The chair?" Conner asks.
"The electric chair," Artemis answers darkly. "They're going to strap him into a chair and throw electricity into his brain until his heart stops beating. Or they'll inject him with poison, or something. He's going to die for this."
Ice forms in the pit of his stomach. Conner has a pretty good idea of what death is—he almost tasted it once, courtesy of Luthor, and he's not sure it's a fate he'd wish on anyone, not even someone like Luthor. But the other thing is, if Robin is right, then Luthor will know it. Luthor will know that at the end of the day, he's going to die, and that really means Luthor has nothing to lose. All of his fortune will be aimed at three things: first, delaying the inevitable; second, killing Superman; third, killing Kent. The third one is the only one where Luthor is highly likely to succeed.
Silently Conner decides he's not going to let that happen, and Conner appoints himself Clark Kent's de-facto body guard.
It takes Batman all of five minutes to figure out what Conner is doing. He's half-way to Metropolis (running, because it's faster and less destructive than bounding, and he still can't fly—maybe the people at Cadmus made him wrong and he never will) when he gets the call on his League communicator.
"Superboy, this is Batman."
"Yes?"
"Would you care to slow down for a second?" Conner has long ago gotten used to the fact that Batman has GPS tracers on every single one of them. He slows, then stops.
"I couldn't help but notice that you're running to Metropolis."
"Yes."
"You're going to protect Kent from Luthor." It's strange, because Conner is almost certain that Batman's voice has the same contempt for Kent as it does for Luthor.
"Yes."
"Has it occurred to you that Superman and Clark Kent are quite close, and Kent may not need your protection."
"Yes."
"You're lying."
"Yes." It's a little distressing how well Batman knows him.
"Come back to MountJustice—It'll take Luthor a few hours to put together a coherent attack plan on Kent, and in the meantime, Superman can take care of his mess."
Conner has half a mind to disobey Batman… but… Conner knows all too well that when Batman calls them back, it's usually for good reason, so he turns around and runs back to HappyHarbor.
Batman already has the others rounded up and is briefing them. Conner just takes a seat next to M'gann. Batman continues to speak.
"As such, the League has decided to dispatch the Young Justice team to protect Clark Kent and his parents, Jonathan and Martha. Miss Martian, Aqualad, Kid Flash, and Artemis, you four will take charge of the Kents. The League, via Superman, has already informed the Kents of your arrival. Martha Kent has insisted that you stay as their guests. M'gann and Artemis will share the guest room, while Kaldur and Wally will be in Kent's old bedroom."
Conner feels a pang of envy, because he'd like to see Clark Kent's old bedroom.
Batman continues: "You are to maintain your code names and masks at all times. The Kents are extremely nice people, but you are not to discuss personal matters. You are not to talk about yourselves or any of your teammates or any other members of the Justice League. You are also not to talk about Clark Kent or Lex Luthor.
"This is quite important.
"Robin will be with me, monitoring the underworld, Luthor's bank accounts, and the world economy.
"And Superboy will be protecting Clark Kent in Metropolis. Everyone but Superboy is dismissed."
Everyone gets up to go, though M'gann throws him an uncertain glance. He smiles reassuringly at her. When they're alone, Batman signals to Conner to get up. He leads him silently to the old conference room.
"Sit," Batman says plainly, sitting himself. Conner does as he's told. "I'm going to tell you everything that I can, but I can't tell you everything."
Conner nods.
"While Superman knows that a security detail has been attached to the Kents, he does not know who makes part of that detail. Nor does he know that Kent himself is being provided with a body guard. For once, Superman and I are in accord that Kent does not require any additional protection; however, Superman was not invited to the vote, the other Leaguers believing that he is too close to the problem, and I was outvoted.
"The only reason I have assented to have you guard Clark Kent is because you're the only one of your teammates who could take a bullet for him and be no worse for wear. However, I want to make it perfectly clear, I do not want you to put yourself in danger for the sake of Clark Kent.
"Try to keep a low profile. Eventually it will get out that you're following Kent. When Lois Lane finds out you're in Metropolis, she'll want to interview you. She's a tough cookie, but essentially honorable. The first thing you say to her is 'Hello Ms. Lane, my name is Superboy, and everything I say is off the record.' She won't be able to quote you for a story then, but she can still use things you say to put other things together. You shouldn't tell her anything about the League or the Team. You should be especially careful not to divulge any information that might serve to identify who we are. Don't talk about Wally's love of science, or the fact that Artemis goes to private school, and nothing, and I mean, nothing about anything you might have seen in the Batcave. Superman… you can say anything you want about him; I don't care, but as always, use your best judgment; Superman is very well-loved in Metropolis, especially at the Planet.
"The last thing: I will be in regular contact with you and your teammates. If you need backup, don't hesitate to contact the League. You can always contact me. If I don't answer the League communicator, and it's an emergency of any sort you can call this number." At this, Batman slides him a small card with the number 555-264-3972 written on it. But Batman's gloved fingers never leave the card. "Memorize this number. Call, and I will answer unless it's not humanly possible. If you call when I'm fighting hand to hand or otherwise incapacitated, it will forward to someone you can trust—you remember the man at your party?"
Conner nods.
"Good. He's good in a pinch. More than once he's picked me up and kept me from bleeding out in a sewer." Batman takes the card away. "What's the number?" he asks.
"555-264-3972."
Batman smiles. "Good boy. Go on out. Robin's going to help you with a disguise."
Conner nods again, and then he leaves. Robin is waiting for him outside.
"Why does Batman hate Mr. Kent?" Conner asks.
The grin that was plastered on Robin's face disappears. Robin sighs. "It's complicated. Batman doesn't hate Clark. He's just angry with him."
"For helping put Luthor behind bars?" Conner doesn't understand.
"No. For how he did it. Batman's a fan of the shadows. But anyway, it's not important. You know how Batman is… he knows how to hold a grudge, but he'll get over it as soon as the crazy hullaballoo blows over, or you know, at the next alien invasion, whichever come first. Come on; let's go get you ready to hide in plain sight."
To be continued...
Author's Notes: Reviews are wonderful.